In the meantime, I sat on a bench and wrote a sort of information request in Italian using a dictionary I had brought with me. A bus showed up and I thought I might hop on it and head back to Feltre. I finished my note, folded it up with my calling card, and put it on the front door of the municipal office.
I scurried back to the bus stop and the bus pulled away. I waived my hands and shouted, but the driver didn't stop. By this time it was raining, and cold.
I walked up to the café and asked the woman behind the bar what time the bus was coming. She said 2:20; I had about 12 minutes. I thought the bus that had just gone by would just go up the way to the next village and loop back through Servo on its way to Feltre in a few minutes.
I sat and waited, and waited, and waited.
I drew a "Feltre" sign, preparing to hitchhike again.
The bank across the street reopened and customers came and went (well, maybe three or four... Sovramonte is not as bustling as Feltre).
A woman came out of the building behind the bus stop and told me there would be no more bus to Feltre.
I just sat in the cold rain with my scarf over my head holding my little Feltre sign. A handful of cars passed, everyone stared, but no one stopped to pick me up.
Eventually I decided I'd just have to start the walk back (~20km) - maybe someone would pick me up on a more main road.
I stood up and approached two old men in front of the bank and asked them which way was best to get to Feltre by foot. They thought I was crazy. I said I knew, but there was no other option. They asked what I was doing.
I told them about my heritage quest, and one of them said he was from Zorzoi and was surprised he didn't see me there this morning. The other said his surname was Bellotto! I couldn't believe it. I think I might have shoved him in surprise - get out! He showed me his ID, and sure enough, he was a Bellotto. He told his friend to drive me down to the bridge so I could hitch a ride to Feltre from there. The friend said he would, but he had to go into to the bank in the meantime.
While he was inside, I pulled out the photos I had brought with me and asked Mr. Bellotto if he recognized anyone.
He didn't. I asked what his grandfather's name was. He said he was old and couldn't even remember.
Mr. Bellotto hollered at everyone who passed (about two people) and asked if they spoke English. One woman going into the bank spoke a little English and stopped and chatted with us a while.
She said her last name was Antoniol. I told her I thought that was my great great grandmother's maiden name. Then the other old man came out of the bank. Ms. Antoniol asked me what the other common surname of Zorzoi was, and I said D'Incau, as it appears on tons of gravestones in the cemetery. The man from Zorzoi exclaimed that D'Incau was his surname. So, there I was, standing in a circle with representatives of three of the main families of my great grandfather's homeland.
Mr. D'Incau said he'd take me to the bridge and I gave Mr. Bellotto a huge unexpected hug. I was so happy to have met a cousin, even if we're not closely related. I made him take a picture with me and he gave me a kiss.
I wrote down my Skype on one of my calling cards, but I don't think he even knows what the internet is.
I hopped in Mr. D'Incau's car and he drove me to the bridge. He was just as aghast as I was about what a small world we live in. It was really neat.
He asked how old I was, and he said I was just a child when I told him my age.
He asked if I had eaten, and I said I had just had a panino. I was wondering if he was going to invite me to dinner or something - no such luck.
I put my sunglasses on top of my head since it wasn't very bright, and he remarked at how beautiful my eyes were. I asked if he thought they were Bellotto eyes. He said he didn't know. If only I hadn't worn them in the picture above, we could have compared!
He asked if I would send him a postcard, and I said I would. I wrote down his address (which isn't much of anything - Zorzoi is so tiny there aren't even street names!) and gave him my business card as well.
Once we arrived at the bridge he got out with me and spoke to another girl at the bus stop. They talked forever, flirting even though they were decades apart. I kind of zoned out, tired and dazed from my journey.
The bus finally arrived and I took it all the way back to Feltre.
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