We then took what I thought would be a brief break for lunch. I only made this mistake the first day. The Italians know how to cook, they just don't know when to stop serving food. I was still digesting the feast from the previous evening, and what I thought would be a simple meal turned out to be multi-course ritual that took some three hours, and while this was not exactly prime fishing time, it was still fishing time. "Oh, wait, now they bring the pasta, oh, wait, now they bring the pheasant, and the wild boar, and more pasta, and the pre-dessert, the main dessert, another pheasant we found hiding in the sideboard, and the fruit." The food was wonderful, but as much as I love to eat, I have gone on Power Bars and Red Bull for days on end when the fishing is hot. Sure, you may think it's sacrilege to visit Italy without experiencing the cuisine, but I must point out that I knew Paris had Wels catfish before I knew it had an art museum.