Super Strong Legs Maïa!

Over the summer, our little car-free family has been up-close and personal with the self-propelled lifestyle. The girls had a total of six weeks of paid day camp, not counting the two weeks with Nana and Grampa, or the week they were at horse camp for three days, and home with their cousin Marissa for two days. The camps were not in our neighbourhood, so we had to get there somehow.

On the days that called for thundershowers–and in this hot and humid summer, there were a few–we bused it. But the rest of the time, we biked. The four and a half kilometers would be a breeze for me, but it was a little trickier for the girls. At first.

Our first time out together, I wasn't quite recovered from my appendectomy, so I was happy to ride slowly. Solanne was on the trail-a-bike behind me, and Maïa on her own two-wheeled steam beside me. Up until then, Derek had been taking them in to camp. Now, I was ready to bring them in, and he would pick them up at the end of the day. Unfortunately, Derek forgot to tell me what to expect.

So when we were on the road, on a very slight incline that would last about 200 metres, Maïa slowed down to a crawl. Then she stopped. There was no way she could get going on the slant, so she had to walk her bike. Very slowly. Which meant I had to walk mine. Which meant Solanne had to get off the trail-a-bike and walk beside Maïa. Solanne is in the same terrible habit as Maïa of picking up random stuff from the ground. So by the time we got to the top of the "hill," she had a handful of treasure, which she wanted to hold in her hand while biking. We had a strong disagreement about it. Finally, I had to ditch my bike and take the rocks from her little hand and tell her to get on her bike. There was some whining, some more feet dragging. All this lasted about 15 minutes. We could have been almost half-way there by now... I was losing my patience. I blurted out, "this is why I hate biking with you people!"

Solanne burst out crying. Maïa got on her bike, determined to get going.

We biked in relative silence the rest of the way, save for me giving Maïa direction on where to turn next, when to stop, when to go.

The next day, after apologizing and telling them that I in fact enjoy biking with them (generally), we were off again. And Maïa made it up to the first stop sign on the incline.

The next day, she made it up to the second stop sign. By the end of the week, she had made it all the way to the top without stopping. I was so proud of her, and she so proud of herself, that this time I burst into spontaneous song:

Super Strong Legs Maïa
She's my superhero!

Everyday, when we got to the top of the hill, I sang that song to Maïa. Sometimes, Sol would join in. Sometimes Maïa would join in. Always, Maïa wore a smile of pure pride. Good for you, I'd think. It was hard, and you didn't let that stop you.

That song has become such a ritual that when we pass the spot on walks, we sing it. (I'm sure the people who live in the house at the top of the hill are sick of my silly song.)

Back to school

Today was the girls' first day back to school, and my first solo morning bike ride since June. And at the top of that hill, I sang Maïa's anthem to myself.

And suddenly, that terrible day I wished had never happened, the one I'm a little embarrassed to admit to, was overlayed with Maïa's theme and all those days of accomplishments.

Branded!

As I was giving Solanne a bath, she looked up at my razor and said:

"That's yours. And it has a ribbon of moisture!"

Clearly something she'd learned on tv. Clearly there are too many ads for Venus shavers on Teletoon Retro.

Day 28 - Going home

May 31, 2010

We woke to a crystal clear sky; the Alps gave us one last show before we left. Nico came to pick us up and made the hour-long drive to bring us to the Milan airport.

I sat in the front with Nico, rather silent. I am looking forward to being home again, but I will miss my cousins, my aunts, the landscape, the warmth of the people and the food more than I want to think about right now.

At one point during the drive, Maia had her body turned entirely toward the window. She was looking out at the mountains and she had tears in her eyes. When we asked her what was wrong, she began to cry and told us how much she was going to miss the mountains. I would venture a guess that she will also miss all the people she has met and the adventures we've had.

It's a long flight back home, to familiarity and routine. For now I'll rest and begin to enjoy the memories we've created.

Day 27 - Goodbyes and fond memories

May 30, 2010

The morning was truly a lazy one: we had breakfast, then lounged around until lunch. Federico was working again this morning (the eighth day in a row), and Nico had worked the night before, so we didn't see my cousins until just before lunch, though my aunt was around, busy puttering in the garden, then preparing our lunch.

We - zia Lina, Federico, Nico, Federica, Derek, the girls, and I - ate outside under the hot sun and chatted away half the afternoon, telling silly stories, teasing each other, and laughing.

When it had cooled down a bit, Nico and Federica took us to a donkey and mule refuge, which the children really enjoyed. We got lost going up there, and on the way down, Nico was nearly out of gas and there were no gas stations in sight, and we were late for our rendezvous with my aunt for supper. And all these situations did was fuel our laughter. Federica and Nico have been great company and lots of fun. Despite the language barriers, or perhaps because of them, we have had lots of laughs, and we've gotten to know each other quite a bit over a week. As Federica said, it's like we've known each other our whole lives, even though we only met once before, and that ten years ago, but it feels so comfortable, as though we had just seen one another last week.

And after a few bumps in the road, it felt the same with Federico. Last time I visited, we went out two or three evenings in a row, just the two of us, and I got to know him a little more personally. This time, I'm a wife and a mom, so that wasn't really possible, but we did find ourselves friends again.

Our last supper was at zia Lina's brother's pizza place. This time we were joined by a couple of friends, and my aunt's nephew, Luca, for whom I had translated the English lyrics to his favourite songs during my last trip, who joined us after dinner with his fiancée. We all visited and laughed more and were all reluctant to leave.

We finally said our goodbyes, to acquaintances, and then to Federica, whom we won't see again before we go home. It was tearful on all sides; she and Nico hope to come to visit in the next couple of years, and until then there is email, though it's not quite the same as hanging out and watching her play with my girls and seeing the three of them get by on Federica's limited French and the girls' elementary Italian.

Derek and the girls drove home with my aunt and I hitched a ride with Federico. He and I got to chat like we did once, a lifetime ago, it seems.

My aunt's nextdoor neighbours came by, by this time after 11 pm, to say goodbye and buon viaggio. We also gave our last goodbyes to Federico since he'll be leaving early in the morning to work near Milan this week.

I've always hated goodbyes, and saying goodbye to relatives whom I may not see for another decade, when we will once again be in a completely different stage in life, is nearly impossible. So instead of thinking about it, I'll pack up and look forward to routine and to the pleasure of sleeping in my own bed.

Day 26 - A cultural experience

May 29, 2010

After our usual breakfast of caffe latte, we lazed about a bit then went to Nico and Federica's house for la grigliata, the barbecue.

A few friends arrived shortly after us: two couples, each with a little girl under two years old, plus another friend. Maia and Solanne entertained the smaller girls, so well in fact that their parents joked and asked if the girls were looking for babysitting gigs.

We ate well again: chilled risotto and salumi, then a mixed grill of pork chops and sausages with green salad, followed by coffee (of course) and a kind of thin cheesecake made with crushed biscotti, ricotta cheese and blueberry topping.

It was also a cultural experience for us, being around couples more or less our age: the women prepared everything and the men didn't even feign to help, even during clearing. The dads did help with the babies, but weren't quite as hands on as our friends at home tend to be. And when my cousin told them that Derek and I had taken each other's last names, they were somewhat speechless and didn't know what to make of it (here everyone keeps their own name and the children
take their father's name, though a newly minted law now allows children to take their mother's name).

We returned to my aunt's house somewhat tired from a full afternoon of speaking to so many people in Italian. At least at my aunt's there are fewer people, and my dear Neopolitan aunt prefers to speak slowly and to have others also speak slowly - thank goodness, since that's the only speed my Italian goes!

We had a quiet dinner with zia Lina and Federico. Then my aunt showed off all the new channels she now gets with the decoder a friend installed today. Federico found the "Boing" channel - all cartoons, all the time. The girls had no trouble following along with the
Italian versions of Bugs Bunny and their favourite, Scooby Doo.

By 9 pm, I decided they had had enough tv, so we turned it off and got the girls ready for bed. Federico left to go out with some friends and we stayed up another twenty minutes or so with my aunt, then she left us and went upstairs.

I imagine my aunt and perhaps cousins think we are rather boring: we go to bed early, begging off going out (we were invited by the neighbours this evening) because the girls need to go to bed. My aunt explained to the neighbours, somewhat at a loss, that the girls don't sleep in the afternoon so of course they're tired in the evening. Here kids have a little rest in the afternoon, for an hour or so, and are up until all hours in the night. People also find it strange that we don't let our kids drink cola or much sugary treats at all.

Day 25 - Mountain climbing and coming back down to earth

May 28, 2010

Our last day in Valle d'Aosta was a clear one - a good thing, since we were hoping to go for a hike in Gran Paradiso National Park. We gave our keys back to the owners of the apartment at 9 am and were quickly on our way.

After a quick stop for provisions, we were on our way up the snaking highway to Gran Paradiso.

We parked in Valnotey, a tiny town in the mountains, put on an extra layer since it was in fact cooler up there, and readied ourselves to
climb the mountain, up a path, of course.

More groups (the same ones?!) of Italian school children were at the base of the paths, and we wondered if we would have hike amidst a crowd of loud preadolescents. I also wondered if Thursdays is their
day for museum/castle outings, and Fridays are hiking days.

Luckily, we passed the groups within the first 100 metres of the path and didn't see them again until we reached a meadow, about 800 metres above the town. I'm not sure how they got there, and we didn't see them again, so they must have taken a different route.

Our little mountain goats, also known as Maia and Solanne, did very well on the path, even though it was at times rocky, at times narrow, and at times very steep. We saw a tall waterfall on our first leg, and we decided to lunch near its top when we arrived to it. Bread,
provolone cheese, and carrots and apples fuelled our last leg.

About 500 metres ahead we stopped at a rifugio, a little house in the hills where, as the name suggests, people (shepherds?) would take refuge if caught in inclement weather up above. We stopped and had our reward snack: chocolate with hazelnuts.

The girls and I enjoyed the view and took a few pictures and videos while Derek explored a little further up. He returned with news that we should go just a little farther up, again with the promise that it would be worth the effort.

The climb up was steeper and rockier than what we had done thus far. We got to another meadow where there were three or four rifugi. There we saw ibex, one lazing on a rock, and a few down lower, grazing. We walked closer to them, as quietly as two excited little girls can - there was lots of excited whispering. Derek and Solanne got within 20 metres of the lazy ibex. Derek would have gone closer, but the mother instinct in me kept looking at those giant horns and I began begging them to come back. Derek the adventurer returned reluctantly and we
turned to visit the rifugi.

There wasn't much inside, though some very determined loiterers had brought up lounging chairs and left them behind. More than one group had built a fire in the main building, and many more had unfortunately
not packed out their garbage.

Derek and I had timed how long it took to get up and knew when we should be back to the car in order to make it back to my aunt's house in time for dinner; thus, it was time to start making our way back
down the mountain.

We didn't hear any cukoos here, but the view was still beautiful, and I got to sing a bit of "The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Music."

The way down, of course, was a lot faster as well as a lot more
dangerous. Derek and I each took a small hand and made sure to keep them on the inside - a sligtly tricky thing for them since when the path zigzags down, the inside moves from right to left and back again. I also taught Maia the important climbing lesson of always keeping at least one foot on solid ground when climbing, which means no jumping down the hill. She was disappointed at first but quickly learned her lesson when she slid partway down the path after having jumped after
my warnings. She took steps the rest of the way down and found that in fact it made more sense to do so.

I am happy to report that the drive back down the hill was not terrifying, and it was rather uneventful. We got back in time to visit with my aunt and cousins a bit before supper.

I guess our fatigue was obvious because everyone left soon after supper, giving us our space to put the girls to bed and turn in early (ish).

Day 24 - Discovering the valley

May 27, 2010

The clouds and drizzle did not bode well for seeing mountainscapes, so we decided to visit one of the castles for which this valley is famous. There are at least a dozen that dot the landscape along the main highway that crosses the valley.

We headed to the town of Nus to visit the Fenis (FAY-neess) castle. Up the hill from the parking lot stands a 14th century castle, complete with battlements and a labyrinthine structure. We picked our way through a couple of very loud and boisterous groups of Italian school children. The man at the ticket booth informed us that the next tour was in twenty minutes, and there is no entry without a tourguide. So we sat down on a damp bench and waited our turn amidst the crowd of
sixth graders (I'm guessing). I'm not sure how their teachers herded them - they seemed so out of control. At one point they nearly knocked our kids over in a footrace they held. Solanne asked why big kids didn't know how to behave but that little kids like them did. I was proud of her for noticing that a little self-control and self-awareness goes a long way.

Maia's favourite part of the castle was the canopy bed in the lord's chamber; I must admit, I wouldn't have minded that grand chamber, either. We managed to follow along on the Italian tour and translated for the girls, to boot.

After the tour, we picnicked at the park next to the parking lot. More kids were there - perhaps the same ones. There were play structures, so we let the girls loose as we finished our lunch in relative quiet.

The park was the girls' favourite part of the day, and why not? There was a long slide, some swings and the coolest park zipline we've ever
encountered. They must have tried it a couple of dozen times each.

We managed to pry them away from the park with the promise of more adventures. We headed back to the town of Aosta, where we visited ancient Roman ruins. It turns out the Romans had built an outpost here in 84BC, and named it Augusta (which over the centuries became Aosta). The town boasted a large arena that seated up to 35,000 spectators. The ruins aren't as vast as those in Rome, but are somehow more
awesome given the geography. At the time Aosta would have been very isolated, and somehow these clever Romans managed to erect such amazing buildings.

There were no cats among the ruins here, bit there were plenty of lizards to capture the girls' attention.

We walked up and down the main shopping street, bought a few things: new pants for me (I'm a little tired of the same two pairs), t-shirts for the girls, and some Playmobil, mostly for Solanne who has more than once wistfully and almost tearfully (though not whiningly) talked about how much she misses playing with her Playmobil. Maia chose a woman sitting in a hammock; Solanne chose a woman in a lounging chair and a boy in a little pool - both scenes are reminiscent of hanging out at Nico's house in the sun.

Late in the afternoon we drove back to the apartment to freshen up for dinner, then we drove back into town to a Slow Food restaurant.

Even the setting was elegant: down a narrow alley lit up with tiny white lights on bows that arc over alley. We ate traditional Valdostano food. We began with plate of local salumi, including a skinny sausage that was such a dark red that it was nearly black. If I'm not mistaken it contained beets, as evidenced by its taste and its colour. For primi Derek had a cabbage soup that was prepared like French onion soup, with thick crusts of bread soaked in the broth and a melted layer of Fontina cheese to cover it. I shared a fondutta with the girls: melted Fontina cheese in a fondue bowl, served with croutons, which you put in and fish out with a spoon - almost like
eating cheese soup! For secondi, we all shared two bowls of polenta, one made with melted Fontina cheese, the other served in a bowl of fresh cream. Polenta is local concoction of cornmeal, and I never fail to feel full after about four spoonfuls. It's easy to understand how this would be the perfect mountain food! We capped off our dinner with gelato with walnuts, for Derek and Maia, and a chestnut cake with a sweet nutty drizzle for me and Solanne.

For the first time this whole trip, Derek and I walked away from a restaurant full but not bursting at the seams. It took nearly four weeks, but we finally discovered the trick to not overeating: don't order separate meals for kids; instead, just order two of each course, and share with them. Too bad it took us this whole trip to figure it out. I guess we'll just have to come back...

Day 23 - Lazing about

May 26, 2010

It was a rather grey day, and after yesterday's hike we didn't feel like doing much of anything. So we didn't.

Maia worked on some math homework that we had brought along. Her teacher had prescribed one math problem per day, plus daily reading and practicing her cursive writing. I have to admit that we haven't kept up with the reading, though Maia is reading comfortably in French these days, but we have been diligent with the math problems and should have them all done by the time we get home.

We got Solanme to practice writing lowercase letters, since she tends to forget a few when she is writing, though we have discovered that when she does them in a row, she knows almost all of them. She did
complain a little at the work. We asked her why she complained since her teacher said that she was always such a good little worker. Solanne explained that she much preferred the work she got at school, with the letters printed as examples and pictures of various animals on them. I guess I should have asked her teacher for those sheets!

The rest of the day, the girls made up their own games: they have their dolls, Clicky and Vanille (their stuffed animals), some puzzles, stickers, and a little Barbie tent that fits either dolls or stuffies. Derek and I managed to read, as well as plan out our future bathroom renovations. We've seen a number of different apartment layouts and it has given us lots of fodder for the reno fire.

We didn't set foot outside, and that suited us just fine for the day.

Day 22 - On top of the world

May 25, 2010

Solanne was up first and ran to the window to check the weather: the clear blue sky told her that we'd be going to the snowy part of the mountain today. Her excitement was later replaced by a very foul mood and yet another crying fit, a little like the one she had in Rome.

Taking a grumpy kid up a 90-minute cable car ride was not our idea of
fun, but neither was the possibility of missing out on a clear day, since one never knows what weather will come tomorrow.

We gave Solanne the option: we could relax at the apartment today or we could go to the mountain, but it all depended on her mood. Through the crying and the wailing, she understood, and since she was the one who was most committed to visiting the mountain, she managed to calm herself enough to convince us she was ready.

We packed up the car with snacks, lunch and water. Fleece jackets, wind breakers and extra sweaters rounded out our list of things to
bring to the snowy parts of the mountain. We weren't sure what kind of cold we'd be facing at the top of Monte Bianco (Mont Blanc), so we packed it all.

We took the road west, then north; Derek was already more comfortable
driving and took the hairpin turns like an expert. We followed the valley to Courmayeur, where the road began to snake its way up the mountainside. The signs were clear and road direct to the funivia (cablecar).

It took us less than an hour along the winding roads to the base of the cable car. We parked the car and noticed that there were very few people around. As we disembarked from the car, an American couple with two little kids around Maia and Solanne's ages informed us that the
funivia was in fact closed until the 28th. Maia cried a little at the idea that we wouldn't be going up the mountain; Derek and I were trying to figure out a plan B.

We drove down about 200 metres to a little souvenir shop we had spotted, in the hopes of finding a map with hiking trails. The man at the store didn't have any maps, but he did suggest we drive up the
road further to the camping area; there we would find trails.

We followed his advice and we were not disappointed. We parked the car along a little flat road that brought us into the camping area (we saw all of one camper there). The first thing we saw was a mountain river, running quick and clear. In the fast moving parts, it was a blue-green; in quiet spots it was completely clear - so clear in fact that it was impossible to take a good photo of it. We would see endless streams, some as narrow as the width of my hand, others too wide to forge. I had been clever and brought two plastic drinking glasses; we
drank the fresh mountain water every chance we got.

We walked up the road a bit and found a picnic area; there were three couples there. We ate our bread, fruit, and almonds and were on our way again. Derek and I thought that our whole walk might be along this road, and in fact we wouldn't have minded given the very little traffic we saw all day - about a dozen people in all.

But we did come to a series of trails. The children were excited to see some snow at the base of the trail and knew there would be more higher up. The path was rocky and winding and rather steep. At some points, the snow was a few inches deep along the side, at other points there was no snow at all. Small streams of melted snow crossed our
path and sometimes became part of the path. We went further and further up, forded a couple of streams and finally came to a rather snowy part. There was a break in the trees and we got a spectacular view of Monte Bianco and the other summits. Derek wanted to go further, but the snow was slippery and I wasn't sure I wanted to risk it with the kids, either getting them wet from the snow or losing them down the side of the mountain. So I did the sensible thing and sent Derek ahead to see. Within a few minutes he was back, telling us to come. There would be more snow and two or three streams to cross, but
it would be worth it. He was right. We sat on our perch overlooking the valley and river below, the mountains all around us. Impossible to capture in words the view or the feeling except to say "perfect."

It was surprising how warm it was, given the presence of snow. We were all in pants and hiking shoes, along with t-shirts, and we were very
warm. When we finally got back down to the car, we took our shoes off and washed our feet in the ice-cold river.

With the day in our bodies, including a little more sun than we had anticipated, we drove home, cleaned ourselves up, had a pasta supper and are now all in bed before 9 pm.

I'm on top of the world and will sleep well tonight.

Day 21 - To the mountains

Day 21 - To the mountains

May 24, 2010

It has been a mixed day, full of excitement, relief and terror. The terror was entirely related to driving in the Alps. The rest was about beginning the next leg of our trip.

We had our usual breakfast with my aunt outside, on yet another spectacularly beautiful day. It has been sunny and hot ever since we arrived in Piemonte - almost too hot by moments, but we have not complained! Sunscreen, hats and when needed, shade, have provided the
relief from the worst of it.

We set off a little after 10 in my aunt's car. She and my cousins had insisted that it was ridiculous for us to rent a car when my aunt has hers and she nearly never drives it; she relies on her sons to get her
what she needs or to drive her where she needs to go. We finally agreed to take her car, if for no other reason than they wouldn't tell us where to rent one. And wouldn't you know it, but Federico gets a job and has to go off to work for four days in Milan, more or less marooning my aunt at her house, which is in the country, a kilometre or two from town. But my aunt just laughed it off and said that I must be a good luck charm since Federico hasn't worked in a year and a half
and suddenly he had two jobs: one on Saturday and Sunday, and another this week.

So off we went. I don't know how to drive a manual transmission car, thus Derek is the default driver. That makes me the navigator, which is the opposite of how we do things at home. I knew it couldn't go well for us. I don't read maps in a hurry, so if/when we take a wrong turn, I can't find our location fast and I often have to stop. Derek, on he other hand, can figure out in seconds where we are. What I do best is watch for signs and remember landmarks, not burying my nose in a map.

The first part of the trek was a breeze: we found our way to the toll highway and made it to Aosta, the capital of Valle d'Aosta. Finding
our way to the apartment, however, was another story. Derek had the address, and we bought a map, but the map wasn't detailed enough and we ended up driving around in circles, at times stalling the car on hills, having to turn around on very narrow streets, and having some rather upset Italian and French drivers on our tails.

We finally called the man who is renting us the apartment, and he met up with us to show us the way.

Our new home was worth the wait, and perhaps even the stress of driving around here. The house is built on the side of the mountain; we're overlooking the valley below and have a view of snow-capped mountains in front and to the side. Apparently, we're lucky to see the snow: normally, most of it on these peaks would be gone by this time of year, but all the cool temperatures and rain we got on our first two weeks in May made it so that it snowed up here.

The girls are very happy with the apartment: they have bunkbeds in the loft and a ton of places to hide or just curl up in. Maia even hung up all her clothes in her child-sized closet.

We had no food in the house so a trip down the mountain to town was in order. We wandered along the main street of Aosta for a couple of hours, then did some groceries and came home. There were more stalls, more turning around and more getting lost (the maps are horrendous). Maia and Solanne, being children, at times wanted to talk to us, at times wanted to understand what was going on. Derek and I asked them a number of times to stay quiet so we could figure out what we were doing. Quiet isn't always their forte, and the stress of the driving and navigating got to us, and we both yelled at the kids. Soon we had
honking drivers behind the car and crying children in it - and even more stressed parents trying to find our way back.

The best part about being a parent is that your kids love you. And they have an amazing ability to forgive. The moment the car was safely parked in its spot behind our building, Derek turned around and apologised and explained what was going on when we were driving. We got hugs and kisses and a whole lot of loving and forgiveness.

It took me the better part of the evening to unwind and let go of the day. I hope that we get our bearings soon and that I can start to enjoy travelling around the most beautiful area we have seen our whole trip.

Days 18-20 - Con la famiglia

May 21-23

With no time to ourselves and every moment taken to visit with my cousins and my aunt, it's been impossible to write. Coincidentally, there are few pictures to show for these three days.

We got into a kind of rhythm, if not to say routine: waking around 8 am, eating a breakfast of caffe latte with cookies (or hot milk with corn flakes, followed by cookies, for the girls), someone taking us out to see some thing or another, returning to a full lunch with my aunt, followed by another tour, and ending with a late dinner. Our days wrapped up, for all four of us, around 11 pm.

***

Some context to my family here: my aunt Lina is my father's younger brother's widow. She lives in the house in which she raised her two boys, Federico and Nicola. The older of the two is unmarried and lives with his mom, though he owns his own house a few kilometres away. It is common for unmarried adult children to continue to live with their parents, and in fact, even when married, one of the children will live with the aging parent(s), either by having their spouse move into their childhood home or by taking in their parents into their new home.

Zia Lina is from Naples, so a good deal of the food she makes for us is Neopolitan. And she's a great cook, so we have been eating very well. We haven't told my family here that we're vegetarian; the linguistic and cultural chasm is too great for us to attempt to explain. Everyone is therefore rather pleasantly surprised at our girls and how they would rather eat artichokes, broccoli and Brussels sprouts than touch their meat. And I've been very proud of how polite they have been about strange foods, especially the meats. They have not once made a bad face or spit something out or refused to try something. There have been a few times where they couldn't finish their plate - invariably something with meat - but otherwise it has gone very smoothly. It helps that there is pizza, pasta and yummy veggies to go around.

***

In these three days we visited Santhia, a small town close to where my aunt lives; Vercelli, the main city in the area; Burcina, a park in the hills where we went for a walk along paths to admire the blooming trees; Viverone to walk along a little lake. We ate pizza at my aunt's brother's restaurant. We watched the Eurocup final game with Nico and Federica, and saw Milan's Inter team win 2-0 against Bayard Munich of
Germany. We paid our respects at my uncle's grave, where Maia left a little stone she found at the house, as a memento of her visit.

There were a few tense moments, as there is always likely to be with family: each one has an idea of what will make us happy, they then make plans for us, or at least strongly suggest one thing or the other, and it invariably conflicts with what the others had in mind. And without meaning to, they put us in the middle of ancient family quibbles. I think we managed to wade our way through successfully, but it took a little bit of diplomatic work - not an easy task at the best of times, never mind in a third language.

Tomorrow we are off to Valle d'Aosta, Italy's smallest region. Solanne
has been asking for nearly a week, since we arrived in Piemonte and saw the Alps in the distance, when we would get to see the snow. She will get her wish soon.

Day 17 - Girare (touring)

May 20, 2010

Our first full day in Piemonte was indeed full. We woke at a late-ish 8:30. My aunt was coming downstairs to get breakfast ready for us. The morning was clear and warm so we had our coffee and biscotti outside: us, zia Lina and Federico.

Zia Lina and Federico had a few chores in the garden, so Derek and I helped out. We picked strawberries, put up some structures for beanstalks to grow on, and cut out shiny wrapping paper to tie onto the corners of the garden to scare away the birds. Meanwhile, the girls ran around a little. It's so nice having some green space where they can run free and burn off some energy.

Many hands make light work, so we were soon done. Federico took us into Santhia and gave us a little tour of the town by car on our way to the grocery store. Here, there are many signs of the recession: clothing factories that once employed hundreds of people each now either employ fewer than fifty or are closed altogether. Both my cousins are currently out of work as a direct result of the layoffs. At 38 and 40 respectively, they say they are too old to find permanent
work anywhere.

Another sign of globalism is the (unfortunate) advent of the supermarket in Italy. Federico had chosen the local "supermercato" to get the items his mother instructed him to buy. One hopes the "fruttivendolo" and "panificio" are not completely dead... My aunt had given Federico strict orders to find cereal for the girls - they don't eat such things here, so she didn't know what to get them. The cereal aisle was rather limited and literally half of the selection contained some form of chocolate or cocoa. So we landed on Kellogs Corn Flakes - the same cereal my mom had found for me years ago when we visited here. To this day, when I eat them I am immediately brought back to Italy. I figured my girls could have the same experience.

When we returned my aunt was busy making a risotto with fresh
artichokes from her garden. We dined outdoors again: risotto, followed by thin veal chops in a clear gravy.

In the afternoon, it was Nicola's turn to be our host: Oropa, specifically its monastary, was our destination. Santhia, where we are staying is within view of the Alps. On a clear day like today, we can see them in the distance. Oropa is partway up the foothills at the base of the Alps, at 1200 metres (everyone here knows the elevation of the various places; it's fascinating). It was a warm day here below, but in the hills, when the sun was hidden by passing clouds, it got rather cool.

There isn't much to see in Oropa besides the monastery and the two churches, but the view is spectacular. And the water at the fountain is from the glacier and is the freshest, sweetest water I've ever had.

On the way down from Oropa, we stopped in Biella, a town of about 55,000 souls. Nico gave us a tour of the oldest part of the town, then
the shopping district. I am constantly surprised at the sophistication of the clothing stores in these small towns - as well those in towns and villages much smaller than this one - Armani, Gucci, Dolce and Gabanna .... And shoes! I've never seen so many shoe stores in my life. I have yet to buy some Italian shoes here, outrageous or otherwise. There's still time...

Eventually we returned to Nico's house where his wife, Federica, was busy making a delicious meal. The pair live in a beautiful, new house, complete with an immaculately kept lawn. Nico and Federica are lots of fun and we laughed a lot over our four-hour dinner. Between courses, the girls watched Avatar in English; thank goodness for DVDs that have
multiple language options! Solanne called the blue people "the kitties".

We left before the movie was done, with a promise to the girls that we would rent it at home (ie, not where we are currently staying, but back in Ottawa). Nico was driving us back to my aunt's house, so we kissed Federica good-bye and Maia managed an "a domani!" (see you tomorrow), much to the delight of my cousins - and me and Derek. Another month here, and that kid would be trilingual.

Day 16 - The lost day

May 19, 2010

This was our last day in Parma. We had planned to do a bit of touring since we'd been so busy visiting family that we hadn't really seen the city. I was also looking forward to a little shopping.

But with children, things often do not go according to plan. And this day was such a frustrating one that I actually didn't want to write about it until now, nearly two weeks later.

It all began the night before when Derek was putting the kids to bed; he found three little bunny figurines under Solanne's pillow. Solanne vehemently denied knowing where they came from, and so did Maia. It was late, so we let it be after asking a few times. That night, Derek and I devised a strategy: we knew this was going to be a big moment in our parenting career. Someone had stolen these toys from somewhere, and someone was lying about it. We could let it pass, we could punish the one we believed to be the guilty party without proof or a confession, or we could work it out in such a way that whoever had done it would feel comfortable being honest with us. Of course, we wanted the latter to happen, but we weren't quite sure how... Except that we had to promise not to punish her for telling the truth all the while ensuring that some sort of consequence for the original deed would occur. Sure. No problem.

We had breakfast that next morning, and after we had brushed our teeth we got down to the business at hand. We asked the girls again who took the toys and let them know that we were more upset about the lying than the stealing. After over half an hour of talking with them and of them denying any knowledge, I had to leave the room. I was so upset that one of my kids would tell such a baldface lie that I couldn't promise that I wasn't going to lose my temper.

I came back after I had cooled my heels, and after Derek had given them a chance to talk to each other - at this point, we weren't sure if they both knew or if the little thief had also kept the secret from her sister.

The details at this point are sketchy, but I do remember bringing
Solanne up to our room and telling her I knew it was her. And finally she confessed: she had found them somewhere in the apartment. I was so ready for her confession that I let out a sigh of relief and cried. I told her how proud I was of her for telling the truth, and that we could make it right by putting them back.

I should have known it wasn't the whole truth, but it only took a moment of Solanne putting them "back" in their place for me to know she didn't find them on the floor by the bed.

I called her out on it, and she began to cry. After a long bout of it, I finally managed to talk her into telling me the truth. And she confessed again. And again I was relieved, and again I quickly realized that her story didn't hold up. Now I was getting angry that she was adding new lies to her first one.

I called her out on it again, and this time she cried and sobbed and screamed (there may have been some writhing) for at least thirty or forty minutes. Her inner struggle with what she had done was being lived out loud, for all three of us to witness. And it was painful for all of us. It was nearly noon when Solanne finally confessed that she had taken the toys from Mario and Nicetta's house, and she had hidden
them in her underwear so they wouldn't be discovered (dresses don't have pockets after all). She had been embarassed by what she did, but she had found the bunnies so cute that she hadn't been able to resist.

And I was embarassed too. The only thing we could do is send them back to my cousins with a letter of apology. And the thought of havig to admit to having a little thief as a daughter to these relatives I barely knew (and who know Solanne not at all) was mortifying. It was my turn, though I did my bit of self flagilation alone and in silence.

I know now that they will likely understand, and if we could have returned the figurines in person they would have told us it wasn't a problem, but I guess the stress of having to put on a good face, to do my dad and myself proud in front of his family, coloured my reaction.

The good news is that we ultimately taught Solanne that it's better to get the truth out sooner and that she can in fact trust us to keep our word: we ensured to make restitution for the stolen objects, but we were sure to tell her that we were happy that she told the truth in the end, and that she should be proud of herself.

We still have the figurines; we'll send them from home with a letter from me and an apology note from Solanne. And if they can forgive us, all the better. But if they can't, I'm not too worried: I know that in the end, Solanne and both her parents did the right thing.

Day 15 - Fontanellato

May 18, 2010

Today we visited with my cousin Mario, his wife Nicetta, and one of their two daughters, Silvia who is my age.

Our morning was spent quietly at our apartment, then we made our way to the bus station to take the bus to Fontanellato, a little town outside of Parma, home to arguably the area's best castle. After some confusion about busstops and times, we managed to get a bus and arrived about three quarters of an hour later than planned for lunch.

Nicetta had set a lovely table. We began with local salume, olives, pickled mushrooms, and various canapés. Next was hand made tortellini, the best I've had so far, followed by a creamy lasagna. Then was time for the meat: roasted veal. Luckily, the girls could beg off because they had already eaten so well. They went out on the balcony to play
with the cat Luna while we continued to eat and visited a little. We ended the meal with fruit salad and icecream.

Silvia, whom I had spent so much time with last visit, took us on a little walking tour of the town. We began at the monastery church,
where the girls picked up pamphlets, which they gleefully planned to give to their friends from school. I'm not sure how much their friends would appreciate them, but the papers kept them busily chattering and planning for most of our walk.

We had a quick coffee then headed to the castle. It wasn't open for tours, but Silvia did manage to convince someone who works there to show us the mirror room: it was built in the late 19th century in what had once been the dungeon. There, a series of prisms and mirrors were concocted to project the image of the outside piazza, in real time, onto the screens within - a nearly magical feat back then.

We walked around a bit more, stopped in a parkto let the girls run
around a bit, then headed back to their house. My reunion with Silvia, though short lived, reminded me of what fun we had a decade ago, chatting about all manner of things. We had lost touch, but not again, she vowed, now that she has email. I hope we do keep in touch.

Day 14 - Fidenza

May 17, 2010

Our days have been so jammed packed with visiting cousins that I'm actually writing this one a day late.

The train ride from Parma to Fidenza is only ten minutes and costs less than the equivalent of ten dollars for the four of us. We arrived in the town where my aunt lives a little before noon.

In the short ten years since my last visit, the town had become unrecognisable: while the train station had not changed an iota since I had waited patiently for a cousin whose voice I had only heard on the phone, the town outside it had been transformed - or at least the parts closest to the train station.

Now an apartment building - about six or seven stories high - towers over the train station. It is gleaming and feels somewhat misplaced here, at least to me.

I tried to find the way to the main street but was so disoriented by the new constructions that I led us astray, and we ended up walking around the industrial zone. We made our way back to the train station and called my cousin, Martina, who came to meet us.

She looked the same as always: rail thin, in stilettos, impeccably dressed and fresh faced - a typical Italian woman. She had tears in her eyes as she greeted us all. "I'm old now: I cry at everything," she said. At 51, Martina does not look her age, but I guess she is starting to feel it.

After taking us on a little tour of the central part of the town, including getting us a private tour of the small but elegant theatre, Martina brought us to a local restaurant for lunch. We had primi and secondi (pasta followed by meat and grilled vegetables) and left to go to a "bar" for coffee. Here, bars are cafes, and coffee is an espresso.

Everywhere we went in town, Martina greeted friends and acquaintances. She invited her colleagues to coffee with us so we could meet them,
and then we went up to her office for a quick tour of the place.

Then it was time to go visit my aunt. When we arrived at the flat, I pointed out my family name on the door (Italian women keep their names) and felt a sense of familiarity, seeing it there. As we walked up the one flight of stairs I saw my aunt there, waiting for us at the door.

My zia looked the same to me: a tiny woman, with a bend in her shoulder that makes her even smaller, grey hair in a bun, and those sloping eyelids now partially covering sparkling and mischievous brown eyes. Zia Marina.

She, too, had tears in her eyes as she greeted us. We spent a while chatting, then it was time for the exchange of gifts. Martina brought out pretty little bracelets for the girls and a beautiful necklace and pendant and matching earrings for me. We gave them some Niagara icewine, some maple candies and a citizenship study guide to give them a small introduction both to what I do at work (sort of) and what Canada is like - though I was careful to tell them it's one of many versions of what Canada is (propaganda of a sort). We had also given gifts to Monica and Pietro the day before: candies and the citizenship guide, as well as a knitted poncho for Giulia that I had bought in the Byward market at home. Besides the toys they bought for the girls in Verona, Monica also gave us some of her own "propaganda": some information on the University of Parma's program for disabled students, where Monica works.

After we had exchanged our gifts, Martina packed us all into her car and drove us out to my aunt's little farm a couple of kilometres from their house, and she returned to work for the afternoon.

My aunt's little farm is in fact a small piece of land with an outbuilding made up of four or five consecutive rooms where she keeps rabbits and chickens. Derek noted that it was the cleanest barn he'd ever been in, and well it should be: my aunt goes everyday, rain or shine. She now has a woman to come help her, but she is still committed to keeping her animals. They keep her busy, she says.

The girls were very excited to see the five bunnies and their big mother. They got to pet a couple that my aunt pulled out from the pen by their ears. The girls thought it funny that the little things were screaching a little; I must admit that I just wanted her to put them back. I guess, though, that when one sees them as food, it's hard to imagine them as suffering creatures. I'm just glad that the girls don't understand much Italian because my aunt kept talking about what
a great stew they will make. There would have been tears all afternoon after that kind of talk!

Outside the little barn is a large enough piece of land, but more than half of it is no longer kept or even mowed, since my aunt no longer has the energy. But there is a small vegetable garden and some beautiful flowers and herbs growing around the edges.

While my aunt and her helper cleaned and fed the animals, Derek, the girls and I went for a walk in the countryside. The girls skipped along the path ahead of us, and Derek and I managed to hold hands for a bit and enjoy each other's company.

We returned an hour or two later; that is the one thing about this place: we have managed to lose all track of time. Meals are at very different times than what we are used to, so we have not been able to keep up with clock time. And we've been enjoying ourselves enough that we needn't worry about what time it is or whether we need to hurry.

When we did return, we had a little drink, which my aunt had planned for: she had brought some drinks and cookies for us. And we made our way back.

Everyone met up at my aunt's house before going out for dinner: Martina was there, then Monica and Giulia arrived, immediately followed by Monica's parents, Vilma (my first cousin, aunt Marina's daughter) and Angelo. Pietro followed soon after. Before we left, there were more gifts, this time from Vilma and Angelo: white gold
pendants for the girls - a cat and a bear. They had guessed right and given the cat to the right kid. Then it was time for a quick photo session before we went off to our dinner reservation.

My aunt, who is 85, opted out of the restaurant dinner, so we said our goodbyes at her house. After having chatted with her and remembered all the time we'd spent together when I stayed with her nearly a month last time, I felt close to her again and knew I'd miss her. But I didn't realize what that meant. She put it into words for me: "this is the last time we'll see each other," she whispered as I hugged her gently. By now we both had tears in our eyes. Derek and the girls said their goodbyes and I went back to be alone with her for a moment. I knelt by her feet and we looked at each other for a moment and held each other again. I assured her that we'd see each other again, some other time and space. But for now, this was surely goodbye.

We walked out, Solanne holding my hand. She asked me if we were going to see zia Marina again, and I said no. Ever ever? No, I said again,
if we come back she probably won't be around anymore. Tears welled up in her big blue eyes, and I knew that I couldn't spare her the pain of the thought of death this time. "Sweetie, auntie is old and she will probably die before we can come back again for a visit." Solanne cried quietly, in the way she does when she is profoundly touched, and we walked on.

***

Il Canton is the kind of restaurant that should be in a tourist guidebook if it isn't already. The service was attentive, if a little slow at times, the menu representative of the area with a little twist here and there, and the food was spectacular. We arrived a little before 8 pm and left close to 11:30. Four courses in about four hours: seems about right. The girls, mine along with Giulia, were incredibly well behaved, given the circumstances. They had each other and some
free range (reign) over the diningroom we occupied. We arrived back at the apartment just before midnight, thanks to my cousins who chaffeured the four of us back in two cars. We all fell into bed and heard nothing until 8:30 the next morning.

A tavola!

This is the hardest one to describe, if only it's the most diverse. We tried a number of different things.

The meal started with a thin slice of frittata made with various vegetables and local sausage, served with a drizzle of thick and rich
balsamic vinegar.

Next, we had a tasting of three different pastas. I knew it was going to be a great gastronomic experience when the server brought out a triple plate/bowl - a type of dish that is basically three bowls stuck
to one another. The first pasta they called "i caramelli" (the candies). They are like tortellini but look like candies in wrappers; they were served in a rich yet light truffle sauce. The second was a tagliatelli, a kind of fettucini-like noodle. This tagliatelli was made with cocoa and served with olive oil and porcini mushrooms, along with thinly sliced cured ham made from the pig's back. The third dish was made of small round noodles served in a bean sauce; at the table we added fresh olive oil and ground pepper.

By this point I had already eaten so much that I wasn't terribly hungry, so I ordered an antipasto plate of prosciutto. Derek had a bistecca tagliata (sliced rare beef steak) with thinly-sliced Parmesan cheese and fresh greens. He said it was delicious, and it made him understand why people like steak (even when he was a regular meat-
eater, Derek never really liked steak).

Next was dessert. The girls managed to find their seats again for this one. Maia had the fiore di panna (flower of cream) gelato, the only gelato they make. It was what icecream should always be: just fresh
cream + sugar + culinary magic. Derek had crema catalana, a kind of creme caramel, though richer and tastier than I've ever tasted. It had a thick, cristallised crust on top and within was a sweet, full syrup.

Derek and I have never eaten so much in one day, and likely never so much good food. Today, our experience lived out the Italian saying: "In Italia, si mangia bene (in Italy, we eat well)."

Day 13 - Bardi

May 16, 2010

There is far too much to write about, too much of the beauty and memories and insights to digest right now. Suffice to say that we visited the castle in Bardi, my father's hometown, had a delicious lunch, then found the tiny "commune" (minuscule village on the side of the hill) and the house in it that my dad grew up in.

Monica and Pietro were amazing hosts and tourguides again. Their generosity is inspiring, and their kindness unforgettable.

Tomorrow: we visit my aunt, who is 85, and a bunch of other cousins.

Day 12 - Verona

May 15, 2010

Verona is a beautiful city, with every corner and piazza offering another photo-worthy view. It is also reputed to be Juliette's hometown, and one can visit "her" balcony as well as a Romeo & Juliette museum.

But those aren't why today was special. Memories today were built on getting to know distant family members, exhausting ourselves by speaking a foreign language all day, and watching the miracle of small children being able to play so well together despite not having more than a handful of words in common.

Monica is the daughter of my first cousin, Vilma, and she is about five years older than me. She is married to Pietro and together they have a three-year-old daughter Giulia. They were our hosts today: they borrowed a van to fit all of us into one vehicle, they drove us to and from Verona, they paid for a pizza lunch, lollypops for the girls and gelato for all, and they bought our girls some little toys, "to remember them by."

And tomorrow it all happens again: we've had trouble finding a car rental place that is open on the weekend, so they offered to take us to my father's hometown - you know, if we didn't mind spending the day with them again. Derek and I just looked at one another, shrugged and smiled, and said, "okay!"

So tomorrow is the big day, the one I've been trying not to think about and not to put too many expectations on. Monica is not even sure where the family house is, exactly. So I may not even see it, let alone step into it. We shall see how it goes and whether or not any ghosts visit.

Day 11 - Parma

May 14, 2010

The rain chased out of Monterosso, but the sun welcomed us to Parma.

The train ride from Monterosso was long and at times the girls were bored with the activities they had: stickers, drawing and colouring, stuffed animals, iPods, Guess What I'm Thinking, and chewing gum. But they were relatively good sports and we made it through kilometers and
kilometers of rain to a sunny Parma.

We walked from the train station to our rented apartment, and while the girls discovered their bedroom and the spiral staircase leading up to our loft bedroom, Derek and I made ourselves at home.

Once we had unpacked a little we went out into the sunny afternoon. We knew things from here on out would be different for us: we would no longer be one family of tourists among thousands, but rather we were a family of foreigners in a city that was mostly filled with Italians who live here. Already on the train we were the only non-Italians in our car.

So as we walked around Parma we got to see how Parmagiani live and what they do on a sunny Friday afternoon. And there was something comforting in seeing that it's not that different from what we would be doing in Ottawa: getting together with friends, hanging out and chatting.

Derek says that what likes best is that it feels like home, only it's happening in Italian. So far, this is his favourite place.

We've arranged to meet my cousin (well, first-cousin, once removed)
Monica and her husband Pietro and their 3-year-old daughter Giulia tomorrow. They'll be taking us to Verona for the day. Maia is very excited to see Juliette's birthplace (of Romeo and Juliette; who knew she already knew about them).

A tavola!

Parma is known for its delicious food. Marco, whom we met in Florence assured us there was nothing to see here, but that the food was worth the trip. Most of the culinary world agrees, and there is good reason. When you nearly cry because of the beauty of the taste, you know you are among giants.

We started with a plate of antipasti of thinly sliced Parmagiano
meats, along with a torta fritta, a light pastry our waiter suggested would accompany the meats nicely. The girls wouldn't try the meats at first, but once Solanne tried the Mortadella and Prosciutto, she was sold! The kept yelling out, "ham!" like her current favourite movie character, Ponyo (look it up; it's worth seeing).

The girls shared a serving of tortellini stuffed with ricotta and spinach, another Parma specialty (is there any awesome food that these people *didn't* invent?!). I had the artichoke-stuffed tortellini; Derek had a pasta with porcini mushrooms. The flavours made us stop our conversation; our mouths were too busy enjoying. Then Derek asked if it was so good that I felt like dying? "How can you die if you're already in heaven?" was my reply.

For secondi, I had eggplant Parmagiano and Derek had a super tender beef concoction with a side of polenta. The girls were convinced that the polenta tasted like popcorn, and I guess if you throw together corn and butter, there are only a certain combination of tastes you'll get.

Despite the fact the eggplant was easily the best I'd ever had, I couldn't finish it. Derek had some and thus most of our food was done. The waiter seemed duly impressed. Derek asked him for a suggestion for a digestivo, and he brought Derek an amazing drink that starts with a B but whose name I don't recall, and managed to convince me that I did in fact want a limoncello. The drinks did their trick and burned all the way down and alleviated that full feeling. Brilliant.

The Italians know how to eat, and I'm glad to share in some of it, if only for a few weeks.

Day 10 - Cinqueterre in a cloud

Day 10 - Cinqueterre in a cloud

May 13, 2010

This morning the balcony bore witness to the downpour that had taken
place overnight, but the sky was relatively clear.

We had breakfast in the hotel's restaurant and planned out our day
over yogurt and tea. If the day turned out like yesterday, we would spend it on the beach. If it remained cool, we would visit Il Gigante - a giant statue of Neptune on the west end of the town - and play at the little park by the main square and visit a bit of the town.

The sun never materialized, at least not for more than five minutes at a time. So after dropping off our bagful of laundry at the wash and fold, we walked through the tunnel to the other part of town and the girls played in the park for what was left of the morning. They looked like giants, towering over the toddlers; all the local children their ages were surely at school. Luckily, they have each other and had a fine time.

For lunch we found a focaccia spot and bought a huge piece which the merchant kindly divided into four for us. It turns out that focaccia is a local creation, and we are glad to have tasted the original thing now.

The wind at the piazza where we were eating our lunch picked up, and soon the temperature had dropped a few degrees. Sweaters and windbreakers were now a necessity, so we headed back to our hotel to pick them up before taking a walk up a path I had spotted.

Cinqueterre is known for its hiking paths. Unfortunately, because of all the rain the area has seen recently, the main path that connects the string of five towns to one another has been closed off. Some
tougher, much steeper paths straight up the hillside are still open, but they are not appropriate for small children. We had planned, when we were putting this holiday together, to perhaps walk one or two of the trails between the towns. Now that this was impossible, we looked for any walking paths that might be interesting to us and the kids.

The path I spotted was more of a gentle, paved path. We were going to return as soon as we got our sweaters, but the rain began a moment before we set foot into our hotel. And then it poured. And then it thundered.

The afternoon felt like it was a wash, if you can pardon the pun. So the kids played some imaginary game about war that they had to escape, and Derek and I dozed a bit to the sound of the rain.

It felt like hours, but the rain finally stopped. We geared up and headed out for our trek. No one was more enthusiastic than Solanne about climbing the hills and endless steps, going ever and ever higher.

The first thing we saw was a beautiful view of the sea below. Next we saw a small shrine of Mary and Jesus in the Pieta pose; the little shrine was carved into the hillside and a narrow set of stairs led up to it. There, pilgrims had left flowers, rosaries and silent prayers.
The girls debated over which of the flowers were real and which were fake. And they were off again, skipping up the path to discover more.

A large statue of St Francis of Assisi overlooks the town and the sea. A little farther up the path lies a tiny Capucin church, unnoteworthy except for its welcomed silence and a beautiful van Dyck painting of the crucifixion. Above the church lies the most important shrine of all: the town's mausoleum. Here, ancestors long buried look over the town reminding its inhabitants of their forefathers and foremothers and their hard work on this once remote land. It's interesting that the most arresting view of the town and the sea it's built upon should be reserved for the dead and those who come to mourn them.

From the silent vertical graveyard, all paths led downward, much to Solanne's disappointment. She was ready to climb up more. I'm sure Derek was excited to hear that, since we'll be doing a fair bit of hiking in the Alps when we visit Aosta on the last leg of our trip. Let's hope her enthusiasm for such upward adventures holds until then.

Day 9 - Il sole

May 12, 2010

I had imagined having to start this entry with a list of all the things we hadn't used so far on this trip: tank tops, sandals, sunscreen (except for faces), bathing suits... But then it happened: the sun came out.

The original forecast of 18 and rainy melted away to reveal a sunny warm day in Monterosso. We arrived here a little after noon and I was almost giddy seeing that the sun hadn't disappeared while our train was in the tunnel under the mountains that surround this little town. But there it was, shining brightly and welcoming us to the Mediterranian.

We spent the afternoon at the beach, soaking up the golden sun, playing in the sand, looking out for the little jelly fish, collecting
all sorts of interesting stones.

We cleaned up the sticky micah bits of sand in pre-dinner showers and headed across town (less than a ten minute walk) and had dinner at a local restaurant recommended by our tour book - so far our books have
not led us astray.

Now, the girls are in bed and Derek and I are sitting on our stone terrace that overlooks the garden and a little bistro. There is someone playing a classical guitar at the eatery. Some songs we recognize, others just sound beautiful. At times the patrons join in. It's dark now, we have eaten well, and I am in heaven.

A tavola!

We started with two plates of antipasti: mussels plus a plate of anchovies with olives and toasted bread. Solanne refused to try any of it, but Maia was game, though she enjoyed the mussels far more than the anchovies. Next, the girls shared a plate of spaghetti with tomato sauce (how adventurous!). Derek had a traditional Ligurian dish of fettucini with seafood. I had a similar dish of spaghetti with clams and mussels. For secondi, Derek had the swordfish and I had the local fish (I should have asked what it was; it was so tender it fell off my fork), served with potatoes, clearly not their specialty, but by then I was full enough and so satisfied, that I could not complain.

We washed it all down with a bottle of San Pelligrino and a half litre
of wine. All for a delicious hundred euros, including cover and taxes. I could stay here forever.

Day 8 - Gli Uffizi

May 11, 2010

The Uffizi gallery houses one of the world's best art collections, arguably the best collections of Renaissance art on the planet. So it's the place to visit when visiting Florence, though it's not the obvious stop for a young family.

First of all, lineups for the Uffizi are legendary, snaking to a seven-hour wait in peak season - not exactly kid-friendly. Next is the sheer volume of world-famous and instantly recognizable art; if one wished to visit each room, it could take all day to admire the works. And we obviously don't have all day to spend looking at art. We knew we had two hours, at most.

To clear the two biggest hurdles, we woke up early and queued up at the Uffizi at 7:45 (it opens at 8:15). While we waited in line, Derek showed the girls the major works we were going to see on his iPhone (Uffizi app, of course). Not only were they not bored during the wait, but they were well prepared for all the great art they were about to see.

Not that there wasn't any whining and complaining of all the standing, but it was bearable and at some points actually fun.

Maia and Solanne are defintely Botticelli fans. They loved The Birth of Venus and The Spring. They also enjoyed some of the Medieval art ("pre-Renaissance," as they call it here). They noticed that all of that art was about Jesus as a baby with his mother Mary. They liked the fact that the paintings were made with real gold and even some of the Renaissance paintings were made with ground up lapis lazuli for the bright blues.

After the visit, including a visit of the gift shop, it was time for lunch. I Fratellini is a famous sandwich counter that serves the best panini we've ever had. It is literally a counter just off the sidewalk; no tables, no chairs. You can order up a glass of Chianti that you leave on a shelf when you're done. Derek, the girls and I enjoyed our sandwiches standing on the sidewalk just outside the 150-year-old establishment.

Our next stop was a jewelry shop, after all, what's a visit to Florence without buying some Italian gold? Maia chose gold lady bug earrings; Solanne picked out white gold puppy earrings; and Derek bought me a beautiful lapis and gold bracelet and matching earrings.

I guess all the art and jewels tired us out because we spent the rest of the afternoon in the room, playing. The weather was miserable with the rain falling in sheets at some points and merely slowing to a drizzle at others. Derek ran out to buy us some groceries and we enjoyed sandwiches on crusty bread for supper.

The rain has dampened my spirits a bit. It hasn't been much of a problem in terms of touring the cities, but it will completely change our plans for our next stop, which is Monterosso on the Ligurian coast. We are booked into a hotel there Wednesday and Thursday nights, and the forecast for the next three days is calling for rain and temperatures around 18 degrees - not exactly beach weather.

Monterosso is part of a group of small towns perched atop the cliffs along the Ligurian coast named Cinqueterre (five towns). Last time I visited, it was a day trip and the weather had been gorgeous: clear skies and hot sun. About mid-May, too. This time, we'll have to content ourselves with hiking along the trails between the towns and hope that it won't rain so much that we won't get a view of the sea. I'm trying very hard not to let this all get me down. I'll let you know how it goes.

Day 7 - Weathering the storm

Day 7 - Weathering the storm

May 10, 2010

A rather grey morning greeted us, but soon it turned clear and
promising. Derek ran out to pick up la collazione - our breakfast, which consisted of fresh strawberries and sweet Italian croissants.

The first stop on our itinerary was about 100 metres away at the Duomo. We went in and explored a little, and it wasn't long before the girls asked when we could climb la cuppola - the dome. Sixteen Euros later we were making our way up the narrow stone stairs to the top. The girls practically flew up the stairs, with Derek and I trying to keep up the pace. Luckily there is a built-in break about half way up (Maia counted over 150 steps in that first part). The large room has old statues that we looked at before heading up the next set of stairs, which were spiral instead of squared and mercifully went in
the opposite direction (I was getting dizzy). The view was spectacular. We got to see the frescoes on the ceiling up close and
had the bonus of seeing those that are only visible from the chancel, which is closed off from the public down below. The scenes depicted are those of hell, and they are as grotesque a scene as I've ever witnessed. The balcony that goes all the way around is narrow and spectators are protected from a plunge by 2 metre high plexiglass. I'd forgotten how much Derek hates heights until we reached the exit about half way around the circle, and I heard his sigh of relief immediately
followed by a groan of despair when he saw the next set of stairs - not going down, but bringing us ever higher. And we climbed some more until we reached the base of the dome and its frescoes. The view of the art was well worth the price of admission, even if we were a little rushed by the German couple behind us who wanted to move along; there is no passing allowed - even if you wanted to.

Next stop was to be at the Palazzio Vecchio, the old ducal palace, for a tour designed for children complete with tour guides in period costumes taking us through secret passageways. But the next one was set for 12:30 and we didn't want the kids to be cranky and hungry, so we went in search of lunch. We found some food but realized that we would have to wolf it down in order to make it on time. Instead, we enjoyed a leisurely lunch on the same church steps as we had sat on yesterday.

After wandering around a bit and visiting an Internet cafe, we headed back to the Palazzio Vecchio for the last tour. By this time the girls were very excited about the secret passageways. Derek inquired at the
ticket counter and after much back and forth he learned that the tours we were looking for only took place on weekends. The kids were pretty disappointed. Solanne cried a bit and stated the obvious that we were never going to be here again and that we would never get to see the tour. Maia was stoic and took our predicament into stride; it just isn't the weekend and we can't change that.

Since we had a fair bit of the afternoon left, we decided to take the kids to a playground we'd read about. It was a bit of a trek, but it was worth it. The girls got to swing a little and run a lot. Mostly they got to just play - not something they get to do a whole lot while we're on holiday.

The day had turned grey again and before we knew it, it was raining a bit. Then it stopped. Then started. And then it poured. Thunder clashed and lightning lit up the dark sky. At that point we were trying to keep out of he rain by taking refuge under one of the many trees in the park, in the hopes that it would clear up quickly, but it didn't. We left the park and ran across the street to what I believe was a bank and took cover. Not, of course, before being drenched despite our rain coats and umbrellas.

The rain finally let up and we began our long walk back to the hotel. We finished our day in our room, variously playing and reading, then eating a simple supper, the ingredients of which Derek picked up at a local grocer.

Sometimes plans don't work out and we have to come up with a Plan B or Plan C, but somehow it always ends up being enjoyable and exactly what we needed.

Day 6 - Roma-Firenze

May 9, 2010

We were up early and on a train out of Rome by 9 this morning. The girls enjoyed the ride out on the high-speed train; I enjoyed the nap.

Our gracious hosts at the albergo welcomed us just before noon. Our hotel room is affordable, spacious and overlooks the Duomo: you can't get any better than that.

We spent the afternoon wandering around and doing a few activities from our Florence Treasure Hunt book. The girls found the bronze wild
boar statue, and rubbed its snout for good luck, explored and drew statues in the piazza della Signoria, and found the Ponte Vecchio, though we just about walked over it without realizing we were on a bridge! The shops along the bridge feel like just another street.

Since it was Mother's Day I was treated not only to an amazing dinner at a traditional Florentine restaurant, but the girls had surprises for me: Maia recited a beautiful poem about the love of mothers, and Solanne made me a heart-shaped card.

So far, we're finding Florentines quite friendly. The hotel owners here have been helpful and kind. And a little family we met in a piazza where we were hanging out before dinner were friendly. Marco, a Scotsman raised in Florence, and his toddler son were playing with a giant ball provided by the clowns in the square. Maia and Solanne
happily joined in. Soon we were chatting with Marco, who assured us that the weather is usually much nicer at this time of year (sigh). Marco's wife, Natasha, later appeared. She is a Russian tourguide and was kind enough to give us a few tips on where to go and how to avoid lineups.

My discovery: Florence is much better than I remember it. It doesn't help that last time a pick pocket tried to steal my camera as I walked along the Arno alone one afternoon.

A tavola!

For lunch, we found some great food at a small shop and enjoyed sitting on the steps of San Lorenzo church. We had mild Provolone cheese (to suit the children's palates) with bread and a sip of Fanta. Derek and I also enjoyed wild boar and truffle sausages that were at once robust in taste and soft in texture. Perfetto.

For dinner, we began with Pecorino served with wild honey and pine nuts - a delightful start to less delicate fare. Our next plate was an antipasto misto: a mix of Tuscan sliced meats. Unfortunately our server did not name each of the four. I was happily surprised to find that although two of them looked nearly identical, they did not taste at all alike; one reminded me of the Italian salame I had as a child and the second was fuller and stronger. The other two were a prociutto-like ham that was not quite as salty or tasty as its twin and a third
salame that was fattier than the others and wilder tasting.

Next was the pasta: the girls shared giant cheese ravioli, though
Solanne barely tasted it, having filled up on the crusty bread. Derek had fettucini in the freshest pesto I've ever tasted. I manged to partake of both. Next were the main courses: Derek had roast beef with potatoes and arugula, and I had very thinly sliced roast beef in a clear gravy along with roasted baby potatoes. And we washed it all down with a half litre of chianti. A delicious end to a great day.

Day 5 - Time elevator

Day 5 - Time elevator

May 8, 2010

Building a day of relaxing into our time in Rome was key to surviving our travels with little people, knowing that the kids would need time to just hang out. We got up later (I later than them), had a leisurely
breakfast and gave the kids time to play in their loft.

After coming up with a few options for them, we let the girls decide
what they wanted to choose. Hands down, they wanted to go to the Time elevator - a movie experience that includes moving seats, blowing air, sprinkles of water, and a trip through time from the founding of Rome all the way up to today. The price was a little steep at 42 Euros for a 45-minute movie (for the four of us), but it was cool to see all the ruins we'd seen yesterday all built up in their original magnificence. The kids' two favourite parts were when the she-wolf cared for the
twin infants Romulus and Remus (who, according to legend, founded the Eternal City) and the part where we flew through burning Rome (under the rule of Nero).

Our afternoon was free after that adventure, so we returned to the Trevi fountain where the girls sketched in their books in the one semi-quiet area by the base of the fountain.

When we returned "home," Derek began preparing supper while the girls practiced their concert, and I read a magazine that had been left in the apartment by previous renters. All very civilized.

Our after dinner entertainment consisted of Maia putting on her
concert. Solanne did not wish to participate, much to Maia's frustration and disappointment. But once Solanne saw the praise and adoration we lavished on Maia, she decided to accompany her sister on her imaginary (and silent) piano. Maia sang a few lovely songs, including one she had peformed with her choir. Then she danced. It was lovely.

Just before bed, I read them two chapters from "Le secret de Leonard de Vinci" which is about a seven-year-old girl and her nine-year-old brother who travel back in time and meet Leonardo da Vinci and help him out - though the how remains a secret to them. So far they've been to the central square in Florence and to the Duke's offices, which should prepare the girls quite well for our arrival in Florence tomorrow.

We leave Rome in the morning. I can't believe our time here is already
up and we're moving on. I wonder how much Maia and Solanne have understood what we've seen and what it all means. I'm not sure I grasp it all...

Tomorrow a treasure hunt awaits us in the capital of the Italian Renaissance (and the capital of great Italian jewelry; I hope to find a couple of good buys there).

Arrivaderci, Roma!

Day 4 - Miscellaneous notes

May 7, 2010

The girls finally had a full night's sleep, having been tucked in at 9 pm and falling asleep moments later. We woke up around 10 am and the girls had been awake a short time. They were up in their loft working on their sticker books.

The ancient sites called us: the Foro Romano, Palatine Hill, Caligula's palace, and the Colosseum. What caught the children's imagination most was the temple of Vesta and the home of the Vestal virgins - girls who were chosen at the age of about six to serve in the temple and keep the fires burning. We saw their gardens being kept by modern day Roman men who carried out the freshly cut grass in buckets to a tiny truck. The fact that one man drove the truck away while another sat atop the enormous mound of grass was fascinating to them.

The other attraction they liked was the Colosseum, and it's not hard to imagine why. We visited the building for a few hours and they were still interested in seeing more.

What they found coolest, though, were the giant leaves of a plant we found around Caligula's palace overlooking the Roman Forum. So while Derek and I took in the breathtaking views and the amazing architecture, the girls sketched the leaves in their books (why bother sketching old broken buildings when you can draw a living leaf?).

Maia managed to take in quite a bit of what Derek explained while Solanne contented herself with picking flowers and looking at the stones on the ground to figure out which ones were marble. As Derek described the grandeur of the ancient civilisation and how everything had now become ruins, Maia noted quite astutely, "but the birds still sing." Indeed: nature carries on her business as great empires rise and fall.

Solanne's most favourite part was discovering all the semi-wild cats that live among the ancient ruins. She made me photograph every one she saw (over two dozen; thank goodness for digital cameras).

Random thoughts

Cheese, wine and pizza are ridiculously cheap here. For lunch we bought some bread and cheese. We paid about 2.50E for half a kilo of Edam, which would have easily cost us four to five times more at home.

Pedestrians rule here. Despite the scary first-time experience of having to cross busy streets without crossing lights, one learns quickly that the instant you show that you're crossing, motorists will stop - the only catch is that you have to be brave enough the step out. Also, on the smaller cobblestone streets, pedestrians have right of way, so if there's a group of people, the cars will have to roll along at a crawling pace behind them. Scooters are a slightly different story, but they still respect those on foot.

Washing clothing by hand is best done each day rather than once every few days. I've also managed to do more ironing this week than I have in the whole year (hand washed clothes are so stiff and wrinkly!).

IKEA is alive and well in Italy: our apartment is entirely furnished by the Swedish store.

The handiest thing we've brought on our trip is our iPhones. We have used them to call our parents, to catch up on email, to post blog
entries (where we can find wi-fi). We have apps that have guided us around the Vatican museums and ancient Rome, apps that tell us where the closest washroom is (an essential with kids!), an app that turns the phone into a digital clock, and an app that gives us the weather.

I've learned that a forecast for rain in Rome isn't so bad. Since we arrived the forecast has been for nothing but rain, which was very disappointing. It turns out that all it means is that it will rain at some point in the day, likely a light shower for about ten minutes. And that will be it. The sun may even come out for the afternoon. I can't say the weather has been glorious, but being prepared with umbrellas for Derek and me and K-Ways for the kids has meant that we haven't suffered because of the rain.

I've been reminded that travelling with children, although trying by
moments, can be a great way to get good service. People like children, almost without exception. We had eperienced this phenomenon while travelling in Egypt and Cuba with Maia when she was a baby. I thought the good treatment was reserved for those with infants, but not so. It turns out people like slightly older kids too - I'm sure it doesn't hurt that mine happen to be adorable and relatively well behaved.

I've discovered that my kids are pretty good walkers. As long as we build in stops along the way - say for cat-watching and snack-eating - they are quite able to walk a few kilometers to our destinations.

Travelling seems to be a series of negotiations. At home we've built our lives around routine. Everyone knows what is expected of them and it's not too complicated. When we're travelling, nothing is routine and we don't quite know where we stand and what the others expect of us. So we're feeling our way through: Derek and me with each other, and us with the kids. So far, there have been a few trying moments, but we have learned and moved on. And all in all, we have some pretty good memories - not bad for day four, I'd say.

Day 3 - Vatican City

May 6, 2010

It was another rough night leading up to today; the girls finally managed to get to sleep around 1:30 am, so they were rather grumpy and weepy when they got up. Their fighting started before they had even managed to take their first bites of cereal. And it would continue, in fits and starts, for most of the day.

I woke up a little grumpy too and my mood was not helped by the loss of power part way through my shower (I had to rinse my hair out in cold water). We found the breakers but they were all intact and the other apartments in the building appeared to be lit, so it was clearly an isolated problem. And it was too early to call the rental office, so we headed out and planned to call later.

Solanne was in such a mood that our plan to visit the Vatican museums was changed and we decided to go to the Colosseum. Once we stepped out
the door and saw the rain, however, we knew it was not an outdoor kind of day. I'm not sure how, but I managed to convince Sol that we should go to the Vatican. We changed courses once more and were off.

We got off to such a bumpy start that we decided we should visit the museum on full tummies. Pizza again for lunch.

When we arrived at St Peter's square we found out that the line, for what we believed was the museums, was two hours long. So we queued up
and played "I spy" and "guess what I'm thinking about" (aka, Twenty Questions, without limitations on the number of questions). The kids were amazing and didn't complain once during what turned out to be a
one-hour wait.

We got to the front, went through security, and we were in... to St Peter's basilica. It turns out that the Vatican museums are behind the basilica, through a completely different entrance. We were pretty disappointed because by now it was mid-afternoon and we might run out of time to see the museum. But we had waited for an hour, so we were
pretty committed to being where we were.

We toured the giant church, and Derek felt the same I had the first time I'd seen it: St Peter's is big and shiny and doesn't feel one bit like a church. We did see Raphael's The Pieta, as well as the famous St Peter statue whose foot you're supposed to rub for good luck, as well as the biggest dome in the world. And tons and tons of gorgeous polished marble.

We left the basilica and decided to take our chances and see what the
lineup at the museums was like. There was almost no lineup at all, so we bought our tickets and began the tour. Thanks to the Vatican Museums app on Derek's iPhone we knew exactly where to go, and we learned quite a bit about what we were seeing, too. Derek managed to make the first half into an I Spy game for the girls where they had to spot: the giant pinecone, a sculpture of a Greek athlete sponging himself off after a run, Laocoon and his sons fighting off the snakes, and many more. They loved it. And they loved the stories that went along with each piece. Then we visited an ancient Egypt exhibit where
they got to see some cool sarcophagi, ancient jewelry, and a 3000-year-old mummy (what could be cooler than that?).

We then dragged them through countless galleries filled with paintings, which they found endlessly boring. It had never occurred to me, but it makes sense that kids would prefer the three dimensions of sculptures to the flat bi-dimensional world of paintings. They managed to keep it together enough to make it to the Sistine chapel. They liked it but were done looking within two minutes, which in grownup time is not nearly enough to begin taking it all in. So on this one we decided that mom and dad were going to have the final say, and we stayed quite a while.

There were still many galleries to walk through before arriving at the exit and the kids were toast by this time. We sat them down at the exit for nice foot rest while Derek called our apartment rental company to fix our electrical problem (we had nearly forgotten!).

We bought a few groceries on the way home to make some supper. While Derek cooked our meal (after having restored the power) I washed the girls' feet and gave them a little massage. They were in a much better mood as the climbed up to their loft to play before our dinner.

Despite the rough start, our day was a good one after all.

A tavola!

Tonight we stayed in and were treated to Derek's great cooking. We started off with a fresh tomato and mozzarella salad (real mozzarella, made with buffalo milk and kept in brine). We then had a delicious shell pasta with Padano cheese, pancetta and olive oil. The girls refused to partake of the pork ("ew! not meat!" - I guess we raised them to be good vegetarians), so we served up their portions first and added the tiny bits of pork to ours after. I know: pork is not strictly vegetarian, but when in Rome... Finally, dinner was served with juice and water. After last night's litre of vino for two,
we decided to resist the E2.50 bottle of wine we saw at the grocer's. Domani - tomorrow.

Maia and Solanne's discovery: washing tired and sore feet will make them feel instantly better.

Cristina's discovery: don't trust your memory on events from ten years ago or you might end up waiting in a long line for the wrong attraction.

Derek's discovery: if you have the right ingredients, anyone can make awesome food that tastes like it's from a restaurant (this is what he says, but for the record, Derek's cooking is much better than just "anyone's").

All is well

We have arrived north in Piedmonte. We visited with my first set of cousins in Parma for five days, and it was a great reunion. Now, we've come north to visit a second set of cousins, who have also welcomed us very warmly. Our Italian is improving daily. Maia has been trying it out, too, and is doing quite well.

Our connection is still non-existent, but we don't have much time to write these days anyway, since we're visiting so much. Italia è bellissima.

a post-card to my readers

hello friends! Access to wi-fi here has been limited. So far, we've managed to find exactly one wi-fi hotspot (in Vatican City, of all places), which is where I uploaded my first two posts. I've been writing them as I go, but will only upload as I find wi-fi (right now I'm in an internet cafe, which, ironically has no wireless internet).

I haven't yet figured out how to load my camera pics onto my iphone and send them along with blogposts, so until we get back, the posts will likely be image-free. I do commit, however, to add pics when we get back (we have some magnificent ones so far!).

The weather here could be better; we've had mostly clouds, some rain, and temps between 18 and 20 degrees. Am hoping things will clear and warm up for our stay by the sea. But, as Derek keeps saying, we're in Italy!

Ciao tutti!
Cristina

Day 2 - Rome Antics

May 5, 2010

We started out our day at 10:30, which is when we woke up after a somewhat painful night, having had to seperate the girls after midnight because they still weren't sleeping in their shared bed. We had granola bars for breakfast and headed out quickly.

Our first stop was chiesa di San Luigi dei Francesi to see three Caravaggio paintings (one of Derek's favourite painters).

We then headed to the Pantheon, one of the oldest buildings in Rome. The girls were most impressed by the fact that there's a hole in the ceiling which lets in rain. We spent some time just outside the Pantheon, enjoying the area while Maia and Solanne ran around chasing pigeons and playing a secret game I'm not privy to.

Our next stop was the Trevi fountain, which was familiar to the girls thanks to a few books and the Lizzy Maguire movie. We gave them each a small Euro coin and they made wishes by throwing the coin backwards over their left shoulders. They loved being around the fountain so
much that we decided to stay for a while. The girls continued their game (which by this point I discovered involved a cauldron) as Derek snuck off to buy our lunch: more delicious pizza. This pizza was slightly less saucy than the last, so there was a bit less mess - though this time we were prepared with a bandana which we wet in the drinking fountain.

Once we had finished our lunch and the girls had had enough time play, we headed toward the Spanish steps (also famiar thanks to Lizzy
Maguire). On our way we came across a children's store that was disappointingly similar to toy stores in Ottawa (think Mrs Tiggy Winkle's without the selection), only about fifty percent more expensive. We managed to tear the girls away and meandered toward our destination. The steps were beautifully adorned with fresh blooming plants, and full of people. I tried to take a picture of the steps and got a great crowd shot (no steps in view). We walked up the steps (Maia counted 136), and got a great view of the steps, the piazza below, and the city beyond. Solanne and Maia each took a picture of Derek and me at the top. Then they watched an artist sketching a portrait of a woman and Solanne declared that one day she would draw
like that, "me too!" said Maia.

It had been a long day of seeing things so we decided to go to the Villa Borghese, a beautiful park, and let the kids run around for a bit. They continued their game of cauldron and ran and skipped and tried to climb trees.

The great part of having kids who are a) so close in age; b) the same gender; and c) great friends is that they can entertain themselves together. And Derek and I have time to chat and hang out. And even just look into each others' eyes.

But the day was getting late, and if there's one huge inconvenience Europe is known for, it's its lack of public restrooms - extra tricky with kidlets in toe. So I suggested we start to make our way back "home" before one of them made an urgent plea.

On the way, we stopped off at chiesa Santa Maria del Popolo to see two more Caravaggios. We wandered back to our neighbourhood, bought some produce and breakfast for tomorrow before stepping back to our place.

The instant we got into the building Solanne started dancing around and saying she had to go, and after nearly eight hours out of the house, I figured it was about time. We all had some down time: the girls played in the loft, Derek figured out where we would have dinner and I had an aperitivo.

Solanne's discovery: your can drink from the spouts near the various fountains around the city - and the water is delicious.

Maia's discovery: marble comes in all kinds of shades and colours, and Italian architects and sculpters used them beautifully.

A tavola! Tonight we went to a restaurant called La Carbonara, named for the famous Roman pasta dish. The waiter seated us at a beautiful table in the corner of the terrace. We order gnocchi with tomato sauce for the girls, who mowed down on the bread before their main course was served. I ordered the penne carbonara as a primo and eggplant parmigiana as a secondo. Derek had spaghetti in a lovely tomato sauce
followed by baccala (fish in batter). All served with aqua con gaz and a litre of vino (which cost a ridiculously cheap 10 Euros).

Day 1: Rome-ing

May 4, 2010

Most of today was spent travelling, in time and space, and recovering from said travel. The flight to Frankfurt went very well and a little too quickly. The kids got about four hours of sleep, I a little less and Derek none at all. Our connecting flight to Rome was a close call; we ran a fair bit to the far end of the airport in another terminal to barely catch our connection. Thank goodness for rolling sidewalks!

We landed in a soggy, grey Rome; not a sight that was familiar. We waited for what seemed an eternity to pick up our luggage (ah, the inefficiencies of Italy!) then sought out a train. The ticket seller told Derek that we would have to wait half an hour since we had just missed our ride to downtown but for the same fare we could take a bus that was leaving now. Our "bus" driver immediately materialized and we were escorted to our ride: a chauffeured car.

The driver was nice enough but spent far more time chatting with Basile and Maria than finding where exactly we wanted to go. He dropped us off at the far end of the train terminal downtown, and Derek paid as I roused our now fully sleeping children to get them to walk the seven blocks I'd hoped we'd be spared.

The last leg of our journey consisted of picking up the keys to our Roman apartment, taking a crowded bus for the couple of kilometers I
would have walked on my own, and trying to find our temporary home in the tiny winding streets around Piazza Navona - quickly, because by now Solanne really had to go to the bathroom.

We settled in quickly and had a nap for the better part of the afternoon (aka la siesta).

When we got up we freshened up and figured out a direction and headed out. We had fantastic pizza in Campo de' Fiori. The girls had aranciata and we had lemon infused sparkling water. Maia and Solanne
both declared it the best pizza ever.

After taking a break and watching the girls sketch the piazza on their notebooks, we took a stroll around the neighbourhood. We ended up on Piazza Navona, where the Fontana dei tre fiumi is unfortunately
covered up for renos. We found a highly recommended gelateria and enjoyed some fantastic gelato in the warm evening air.

OF NOTE

Solanne's discovery: "the floors (at the Frankfurt airport) sparkle! We don't have that in Canada."

Maia's discovery: "I'm a mango person" (after having sampled eight flavours of gelato).

Reality check: seeing Rome this time will be very different from ten years ago. Touring a city by foot and seeing it from wheels of any form is not the same. And we will be on wheels a lot more than I was when I was on my own, if only to spare the kids their little feet and us our patience.