The dig routine was an early Italian breakfast, wonderful large bread rolls hollow in the middle eaten with butter and jam and large cups of coffee or juice. After breakfast we went off to work just outside of town. We rode in small minivans a few minutes out of town. We had a morning break and then at noon we had a large meal after which we rode back to town for the mid-day break which lasted until about 3 pm. Then we returned to the dig and worked until about 7 pm when we returned for dinner. This routine was five days a week.
After several days, I discovered that the morning coffee, (I had been drinking large amounts of it because I was so tired in the morning) was the kind of coffee the Italians had been forced to drink during the war, a touch of coffee and grains and chicory, low octane. The train station near by had a bar and that was where I got my morning coffee after my discovery. I picked up the wonderful roll, butter and jam and went to the train station and ordered two, duo cafes. My mornings were much better once I got real coffee to start the day.
My routine of ordering duo caffees from the bar went on for several days until someone asked why duo? The joke was on me but I learned the word for double, doppio and then that was my order, a double espresso.
The Po valley was the scene of repeated disasters due to the rise and fall of the Po river, a large important river fed by the mountains. It was not until mid-twentieth century that the river was tamed. The only community of interest I can think of that I might share with archeologists would be a curiosity, sometimes a fascination with ancient natural disasters, for me geological disasters seem always to fire my imagination.
It was my first trip to Europe. I booked a very cheap student flight with a company that purchased empty seats on commercial and charter flights to Europe. I believe it cost only $200 or $250 round trip that summer, the summer of 1969. For the flight I had to call a number to let them know when I wanted to leave for Europe. Then they called me back to let me know where to be to meet someone who would give me the ticket and details of what flight I was on. The other condition was that I was not allowed to tell anyone how much I had paid for my flight.
I boarded and landed at London’s Heathrow airport. From there I took a train to the main train station, and traveled by train to Trento, Italy. This was very tiring and stressful and yet I arrived in Trento, Italy in the Po Valley of northern Italy exhausted, just in time, the night before the archeological dig was to begin.
The dig was sponsored by a museum in Trento. I had learned about it in my cultural anthropology class and I earned credit for my adventure and dig in Trento. The chance to go to Italy, my room and board paid for the month on the dig was just the opportunity I was looking for that year, it seemed like a dream come true. I had not formed an opinion about archeology, and I didn’t have a clear idea about what era we were researching that summer in the Po valley.
Ironically, I learned that I was really interested in cultural anthropology and not the least interested in archeology that summer. And that is really the story of my experience in Trento that summer, that, and my first experience with Italian culture. At the end of the month of July, when the dig ended I met Sharon, my girl friend in Paris and we traveled in France and northern Italy for about two weeks.
