Vacation in Lucca

The title of this post is both a command and an apt description of what we're up to. YOU should come to Lucca. We are here now, and it's a relaxing, lovely, peaceful place. In fact, we are headed out here in a minute it sit and read on top of the old city wall, from the Roman era.

Lucca is a sleepy, tourist town that seems to have a heavy German tourist popualtion (we seem to find these for some reason). Not too many Americans around. The BEST thing we've done so far is to visit the Museum for the History of the Immigration of Italians. It's a small, free museum, not in any of our travel books that documents the historoy of the Italians leaving Italy starting around 1870 until recently. There are pictures, postcards, old menus from the ships, and other small mementos that show what life was like for these immigrants. And, interestingly enough, the museum ends with a display showing the new immigrants, Asians, Africans, and Latinos and cautions us that °They aren't a problem, they have a problem" which is a nice thing to see.


Well, the sunshine and my book beckon to me. Enjoy your sleepy Sunday, I sure will!

It Happened Again

If you ever decide to come to Italy, you should learn this word: sciopero. It means strike. I've written about it before, regarding the air traffic controllers and then the gas stations.

Well, they've done it again. Starting at 9 pm last night and lasting until 9 tonight (10, depending on what news you read), the trains are on strike.

We were supposed to move on to Lucca today from Siena. But yesterday when we went to the station to look at tickets, we found out about the strike. After frantically trying to get bus reservations, and running straight into the wall that is Italian bureacuracy, we had to change our plans. One extra night here in Siena, the trip to Lucca pushed back a day.

It's a good thing we have flexible plans, otherwise, the Italian train people would be getting one nasty letter.


[We were just checking the national strike website (yes, they have a website devoted solely to strikes) and couldn't find the train strike. Apparently, there are some rumors that the strike didn't happen. Apparently, you can't win with these things.]

View from my bedroom window (Sant' Eufamia della Maiella)

Ah, the village. This is Peter's maternal grandparents village situated high up in the Abruzzo mountains. Basically, everyone in the town appears to be family. I know that this isn't quite true, but when every second person you meet is described as a "cucino" (cousin) you start to see a trend.

We had a lovely time visiting the family here and eating. Lots of eating and lots of talking. This isn't a quiet family :)

Some family photos...

[Peter says: lots of pics here. Flickr uploading is too slow. We will upload pics when we get back to the states. And one of my family members can feel free to print the very last picture and give to Giulio for his upcoming birthday]

Angelina, a nosey neighbor, at the local fountain - water straight from the mountain.

Kimberly with Aunt Antonietta, making pizelles.

Peter, towering over his Aunt Eufamia and Uncle Aldo.

Kimberly and Peter with (L-R) Aunt Elda, Aunt Pierina and Uncle Peter.

Uncle Bruno making fish.

Aunt Elda waiving to the camera.

Kimberly, looking normal sized, with (L-R) Aunt Elda, Uncle Bruno, and Uncle Peter.

Uncle Giulio working the land.

Aunt Antonietta (Middle) with 2 friends, on the Wall.

Kimberly with Aunt Antonietta, on the Wall.

Peter with Mario "Cipolla" - his wife Mary refused to let us take her picture.


Finally, this is Piero, who owns one of the last bars in this small town. He's holding a bottle (of whiskey, I believe) that my other Uncle Giulio drank on his last day in the village. The next morning, there was still a small glass left at the bottom, so Piero and his wife saved the bottle. If you zoom is on the label of the bottle, you may notice the date - 9/5/97 (I left the image big, so you can and I know, it looks like 87, but it's 97 And remember, in Europe, they reverse the day and month). They told me they had a little party last month because it was the 10 year anniversary since my Uncle Giulio left to move back to the US.

The Summer Solstice

So it's really hot over here; the day we left Rome, it was supposed to be around 40 degrees - CELSIUS (divide by 5, multiply by 9, add 32, and you get: 104 degrees Farenheit)!!! I don't know if it actually got that hot, but every day we were there, it felt at least that hot. And our second go around in Siena is more of the same.

At night, it actually cools down a few degress, but with the added humidity, it feels twice as bad.

It's not supposed this hot here, yet. Maybe August, but not June. I would blame Global Warming, but our President says that's a lie. So we suffer with long pants (required for churches) and lots of free water from the many fountains (actually potable, as well).

Additionally, it is almost the summer solstice, either today or tomorrow or the day after. This was reinforced to us at St Peter's Square in Rome.

In the middle of the square, there is a giant obelisk (above)

which is in the center of a perfect ellipse. As we were wandering around the square, we noticed stone markers for the 22nd day of each month in a straight line coming from the obelisk. After a few minutes, the light bulb went off: the square is a giant solar calendar, with the top of the obelisk marking the changing of the zodiac signs. A few minutes later, I realized it was almost the summer solstice, so the shadow would almost hit the first marker at around 1 pm (hour adjustment for daylight savings).

If only I had planned a little bit ahead, I could have been there on the solstice, which would have been totally cool. But this was good enough.

The worst thing was no one else seemed to care about this at all.
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As a side to the heat, we were planning on going to the Sistine Chapel on Monday morning. We even got up early to get there before it opened at 8:45. When we arrived on the bus, we saw a line that was at least half-a-mile long. Oh great. It turned out to be the line for tourist groups with reservations.

The line for individuals was twice as long.

Since it was already really really really really hot out at 830, we decided not to wait it out and went to St Peters Bascillica instead. Of course, it was beautiful, as was everything else in Rome.

Although a little frustrating that we couldn't get into the Sistine Chapel, Kimberly keeps reminding me that we will be back sometime in the future.

View from my bedroom window (Roma)

I actually didn't take this picture until the morning we were packing our bags and getting ready to leave Rome, after 6 days. The reason is, I didn't look OUT our window until that morning, when I remember that I had a series of posts going on and I should take the picture. And the reason of THAT is the heat wave. Currently, I could care less about the view and more about is there an air conditioner and does it work? The answer to those questions being yes, and sometimes. Our convent/hotel had an AC, but seemed to only turn it on from 4-6, both am and pm. But those were the magically cool hours.

Here you go, the view from my bedroom window in Rome.

The bane of my existence

Ah the beauty of the outdoors. Lush green countryside, beautiful trees, and blossoms everywhere. Do you know what I think when I see this? Crap. I need tissue.

Sigh. Allergies. Apparently I am allergic to Italy. This now adds it to Boston (terrible), San Diego (heavens no), and Portland (oh God, give me a new sinus system please). I suspect however, that I'm not suffering due to the general lushness of Italy.

No, no... it is THIS evil plant that does me in

Scotch Broom

We have seen this plant (which Peter refers to as Gorse) throughout Italy. In fact, when we got to Pompeii, we wandered through the indigeous garden area and found a small bush. "Oh" said I, "look how invasive this stuff is, it's even here in the botanical section." One of the group gently pointed out the sign beneath noting that scotch broom was found here during the pre-eruption days.

Apparently it's all Italy's fault!

Anyway, it has followed me throughout the trip. We found it in the village and now, here in Roma without many plants around, it's in my hotel.

When in Rome, eat Indian?

We've been eating a lot of Italian food on this trip. Shocking, no? I mean, it's not really Italian food as much as it's the-food-people-eat-here-cuz-duh-we're-in-Italy food. And the food, well, it's been amazing. From the seafood extravaganza Peter wrote about below to Zia Nanelle's homemade pasta (please note that the spelling of her name is my own invention, that's just what it sounds like when people say it). Zio Bruno made a fantastic feast of seafood salad (mussels, cute little octopus, squid, olives, peppers, and some other things)

linguini with clams and mussels

and then an ENTIRE trout-like fish (spigola maybe?) for each person.

So full all the time.

We've been eating and eating and eating for days. I don't think I've gained weight, but only because the intense eating has been balanced out by the hills, stairs, and cobblestone roads.

So, Peter and I arrived in Roma Thursday night. Dinner time drew near and we both looked at each other and quietly whispered "do you want to eat, I don't know, not Italian food?" Sighs of relief. Tonight was a night without pasta.

We walked past various promising places, the Chinese looked good, and scouted out an Ethiopian place a bit further away. In the end, though, we ended up at an Indian restaurant.

It was SO GOOD. Well, I'm not exactly sure it was the best Indian food I've had.... but last night, it completely hit the spot. It was spicy (most of our food has been rather mild) and contained multiple green vegetable (which we haven't seen in at least a week). FANTASTIC!

For lunch today, we decided to continue the anti-Italian food trend and stopped at a halal kebab and falafel place near the Termini train station. Falafel and kebab sandwiches, and not a bite of pasta!

And tonight, well, in a few minutes, after we leave this internet point, we're headed for Chinese. Right near the Trevi fountain.

Bella Roma indeed.

I am an Idiot Sometimes

Here's a good story to illustrate my point:

When Mom and Sissy were here, we went to visit a City called Sulmona. I spent many summers of my youth about 50 km away, but the only things I remember are that we went there to buy gold and they make confetti there, which, it turns out, I'm not that fond of. Turns out, its a beautiful little Italian city, where everyone walks throught the City center between 5 and 8, the food is good and cheap, and the people are friendly.

We stayed at the Hotel Italia, just off one of the many piazzas, which turned out to be a friendly place run by a super friendly father-son tandem.

While there, the first time, we took out a bunch of Euro's from the bank, so that we wouldn't have to keep going every couple days. However, we didn't want to carry all that money with us, so I had the brilliant idea of hiding it under the mattress. I figured we were so close to where my grandparents were from, I would use the same method of hiding my money.

As we left the room the first night, I said the fateful words: "Let's make sure we don't forget this."

Fast forward to Fano, our next destination. As I unpack to go for dinner, I ask Kimberly where the money is. She says I have it. I'm convinced she has it. Turns out neither of us have it.

I was in a full panic. I ripped apart both our bags. I called the Hotel Italia, but they couldn't find it. I sulked around beautiful downtown Fano. I was miserable. I just lost almost $1000 in Euros.

As I sulked in the City center, next to the fountain, Sissy came up to me: "Didn't you say something about putting the money under the mattress?" [lightbulbs popping]

Um, yes, yes I did!!! I frantically called the Hotel, trying my hardest to explain to them what happened, where it was. 10 minutes later, they called and found it. They were putting it in the family safe. A great weight lifted from my shoulders.
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On our way to Sant'Eufamia, we stopped at the Hotel Italia again, and we got our money. All of it was there; I think they may have even added a $100 bill. I tried to give them a reward, but they wouldn't take it, of course not.

We ended up eating a great dinner, buying fabulous pastries for the family in the Village, and getting picked up in Sulmona by an Uncle, rather than trying to navigate the bus system up the mountain.

Sulmona, as it turns out, is a pretty cool place.

quick fix

I added the picture to the post about the gas strike. Much better now. Enjoy again, if you would.

How I Spend My Days

Did you know that baby birds hatch from eggs?

FROM EGGS!!!!

Unbelievable that something so cute and tasty looking could come from something so boring looking and not-tasty. Anyways, while those two 'owners' of mine are out backpacking around Italy, I've found me a new hobby: watching these silly little birds have new chicks under the deck.

Sometimes Ben and Jerry like to come out and watch with me, but they're not as interested; they roll to their own beat.

This is so cool. I can't wait til they try to fly. Who knows what will happen then?!?!?!?!? Maybe they'll fly!?! Maybe they'll fall!?! Maybe we'll get a snack!?! Who knows. All I know is that the anticipation is killing me (Hm, maybe a new saying: 'Anticipation killed the cat.' I'll have to work on that one).

Back to that Ben and Jerry. Turns out they're not so bad. Once Tiger-stripe over here realized I wasn't going to be taking over, he chilled out. Jerry even caught a bird on the deck and brought it inside. He's got cat-like reflexes (hahahahahahahahahahahahaha - I am hysterical).

The woman who lives here came home. She said she saw those other two and they send their love. But she also told me they've been galavanting all over Europe with new and different cats, even threatening to replace me.

I'm not sure if I should believe her, but I'll be sure to give those 2 a good sniffing when they back. I kind of miss them.

Peace out.

Why travel sucks

I love to travel. I got bit by the travel bug back in college and have loved the adventure of seeing new places and meeting new people ever since.

However... the actual GETTING there part often sucks. Flights get delayed, airplane food sucks, someone throws up next to you or the bathrooms smell bad. It's just a pain. My dad always said he would work on building us a teleporter, you know, out of Star Trek. Alas, that was one project he couldn't complete and we are stuck traveling the old fashioned way.

Mom and Sissy left last Friday (June 8) from the Rome airport to head home. We dropped them and the rental car off about 9:30 that morning for their 1:00ish flight. Then we didn't hear from them for a few days.

These are their reports from the field:

Mom:

"We're finally home. We arrived at PDX at 4:12 on Saturday morning. ETA had been 10:30 Friday night. We spent 24 hours in airport lines, planes, JFK floor, JFK tarmac and finally in the air.The line at Rome was longgggg but we had time to get a panini at the autogrill before our flight. Little did we know that we'd get 2 meals and snacks on the flight. I think they feed you to keep you quiet. Had a great flight actually getting in 1/2 early to JFK. Flight was only half full so everyone got to spread out. Oh, we both got searched before we boarded the plane.Had to wait 45 minutes for a gate so we really hustled through the gates and customs only to get to the terminal and find that all flights were delayed due to weather. There were thunderstorms from Wisconsin down but the real problem was FAA computers had crashed earlier in the day. 4 gate changes - including back to one twice and we got on the plane at about 9:30 pm NY time rather than 6:30. No problem, just a short delay. We then sat on the tarmac for 3+ hours leaving sometime around 1 a.m. Got to "watch" a movie on the tarmac and tour the various runways and we both got some sleep. (Movie unfortunately was one that also played on the flight from Rome)."

Sissy:

"Our Rome to New York flight went smoothly. When we landed in New York visiblity was down to 3/4 of a mile. We cleared customs very quickly and found our gate where our plane was to take off at 6:35 pm EST. That's when the fun began. The flight departing from that gate to Atlanta had been delayed. We then found out that our flight was delayed until 8pm, then 8:44pm, then a gate change taking us from one end of the terminal to the other, then when we arrived at our new gate they knew nothing about our flight. Then they finally annouced another delay where we were to board at 9:14pm. Then we started the boarding process and everyone was very excited at this point. During all of this we learned 2 things that were causing these delays. The first was the FAA computers had gone down in Atlanta and caused a ripple effect of flights being canceled. There was also bad weather from the great lakes south to the gulf of mexico. So we boarded and thought we would be in the air shortly. That was definitely not the case, we spent the next 4 hours sitting on the runway and took off at 1:30am EST. We got to PDX at about 4am PST and was home just after 5am."

It turns out that they did indeed make it home, eventually. And we're still here in Italy. I know that we all had a few concerns about traveling together (I'm sure Peter must have wondered whether he was insane to travel with his wife, mother-in-law, and sister-in-law). And in the end? It went swimmingly. We worked out a system, we managed the crazy freeways, and saw some amazing parts of Italy. And we all took our first vacation in years. I think the consensus is that we'd even travel together again sometime! Hows that for sucess!

Itinery update

Well, we're still in Sant' Eufamia della Maiella, up in Abruzzo. This is Peter's grandparents' village. We have more stories to write and pictures to post, but as you might expect, the computer connection in a town of 170 residents isn't much. So for now, you'll just have to make do knowing that the little Italian I picked up has been of NO use here as the dialect is so completely different. Imagine, me, unable to talk. My family is laughing at the thought right now.

Anyway, once we get to more reliable computers there will be more stories and updates.

The agenda for the next while...

tomorrow Thursday June 14 we head down to Sulmona and catch the train back to Rome. Then we spend 4 nights in Rome seeing the sights. Monday... well who knows? maybe back up to Siena? Heading towards Milan? somewhere in that general direction.

We've got clean clothes (thanks Zia Nanelle) and a place to sleep. What else do we need!!

love you all.

The Empire Strikes...Again and Again

If you remember, the day before we arrived in Italy, the Italian Air Traffic Controllers were on strike for about 4 hours; the Alitalia flight attendants supported them by striking as well. The strike caused the cancellation of many flights; fortunately, ours was not one of them.

We are currently in Assissi, staying at a wonderful farm B&B (agriturismo in the local parlance) called Agriturismo Alla Madonna del Piatto. We took a cooking class, have a beautiful view, and have visited some wonderful small towns.

This morning, we were on our way to Torgiano, which has both a wine and an olive oil museum. Then on to Deruta and some beautiful ceramics. Then wine tasting. Our gas tank was almost empty, so we stopped at a couple gas stations, but they were both closed. 'No problem' we thought, 'we'll just stop on the highway.'

When we got to the gas station on the highway, we saw this sign:

Do you know what sciopero means? Take a wild guess.

Yup, a gas strike.

As you may imagine, we were in a panic. The strike doesn't end until Thursday night, when we are supposed to be on our way to Rome to drop off Mom and Sissy at the airport.

Kimberly was also awed that all the gas stations in the whole country, covering at least 5 different companies, would actually work together enough to have a nationwide strike. If you have been in Italy before, you can kind of understand why. I explained that Italians are united in their love of soccer, eating and drinking wine, and organized labor.

We started calling everyone we thought might have some info, which included 2 people: my father in Pratola and the agriturismo manager. We also grabbed some truck drivers at the rest stop and talked to them, kind of. They explained that there might, MIGHT, be an open station on the Autostrada, 60 km away. We had about 100 km of gas, so that was a stretch.

Finally, salvation arrived. Letitzia, the fabulous owner of the agriturissmo, called with good news. Her cleaning lady knew someone who owned a gas station and was willing to sell us gas. The only problem: we had to pose as her cousins.

We ended up pulling into a gas station, where I needed to go into the store and ask for 'Allesandro' and explain I was Laura's cousin. After an interesting look from the woman behind the counter, I was directed to an old man outside. He looked at me and turned to a younger guy, who then proceeded to fill our gas tank.

Two hours after we started, we finally began our day. The itinerary was shortened, but it was still great. The ceramics in Deruta are amazing. The views, as always are amazing.

So far, 2 weeks in Italy, 2 strikes. With Bush coming to Rome on Friday, it promises to be another eventful day (Mom and Sissy leaving that day, Kimberly and I sleeping in Rome that night).

And there's a rumor that the firefighters are going to strike on Friday, which will only add to the fun.

Bella Italia.

(15 June 2007 Edit: added photo and corrected inconsistency)

Quick Thoughts

I can't download photos on the computer I am currently on. Joy. Maybe one of these days we'll have free run of a functioning computer for a while and I will be able to download some good photos. But until then, sorry. You'll have to survive with the ones Kimberly has already uploaded.

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I wonder how Miles is doing. We met his Italian cousin in Sienna. Kimberly was cheating on Miles with him. We have pics, which you may see someday.

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Umbria is beautiful. There have been thunderstorms passing through, which are fun to watch from up on the hills. Assissi is also beautiful, and houses the Basilica of St. Francis, which is a site to behold on the side of the mountain.

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We took a cooking class at the agriturismo. We made risotto, rolled pork (like bresciola, but not at all), and Italian cookies. It was fantastic. We now know how to make no fuss risotto. Maybe we'll share some day.

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I think I spell Assissi wrong. I think its Assisi, but I don't have time to look right now. I'll change it later. I know I am spelling Siena wrong, as I think it's Sienna.

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I'm getting kicked out of the Internet Cafe. Joy.

Ciao.

View from my bedroom window (part 5)

Sienna.



It is purely by luck that we are here today in Sienna. We thought we were headed to our agriturismo villa tonight, but when we called to confirm figured out that we were a day early. This is the best mistake so far! We were FORCED to spend a day in Sienna, my so far favorite city in Italy (no offense to all of the lovely Italians in my family and their hometowns intended). Sienna is serene after the chaos of Florence, small and sweet and beautiful.



And this is the view from my bedroom window.

The View from Our Bathroom Window

Kimberly has been reporting on some of the beautiful views from our various bedrooms in Italy. But the best hotel view so far has to be this one:

This is the view you would see if you were sitting on the toilet in our room at our hotel in Siena.

Yup.

View from my bedroom window (part 4)

Ah Florence. So much beauty, art, and culture.

So many tourists.

This is the view from my bedroom window.

Not quite as inspiring, huh. We stayed on backpacker row... with all the college ages tourists and the drunks. Also the mosquitos. So, not the ideal-est of accomodations. But Maria and her husband (who spoke Spanish) made up for the noisy hordes. My Italian has improved by leaps and bounds and my Spanish is coming back too!

Treasure at Sea

The moral of the following story is: try new things. At least once, possibly twice.

As we were travelling north from Pratola Serra to Florence, we cut across the middle of the country and drove along the Adriatic Coast on Italy's east side. First we stopped in Sulmona, a city so close to my grandparents' village in Abruzzo that I almost felt bad that we didn't go visit (but Kimberly and I are going later in the trip, so I don't feel too bad). We then drove out to the coast to head north to tuscanny.

We were looking to stay on the coast somewhere kind of close to Florence, but read that Rimini was a party town (and we're taking it slow) and Ravenna has a lot of really cool stuff (and we only had one night to spend, not the 2 or 3 Ravenna seemed to require).

We ended up staying in Fano, a small, seaside port. It seems that Fano is a big spot with the Euro crowd (lots of German language pamphlets), but our American guidebook had very little information.

As we wandered the historic center, checking out the old fountains and piazzas, we started getting hungry. Since this was the closest we would get to the ocean on our trip, we decided to have some seafood. Fano had many options, but many seemed to be prohibitively expensive.

When we first walked past the Hosteria 500, we weren't convinced; it was empty and had no prices posted. After some investigation, Kimberly and Sissy saw that the prices were reasonable, so we were decided to give it a try.

At first, it was a quiet time. A little spumanti and fried artichokes, on the house, to start us off. We perused the menu, looking at some pasta with fish options that looked fine. We also were looking for some local wine, but had no idea what was good for the region.

We started by ordering just the pasta plates, with Mom getting convinced by the waiter\cook to have the special - the polenta with frutta di mare (fruits of the sea). Through some difficult Italian-English negotiations, we decided on a bottle of Bianchello del Metauro, as it turns out a lovely white wine. Then we were done ordering. Or so we thought.

The waiter would have none of this 'one course' ordering. He insisted that we must have an antipasti. Although we resisted at first, his Italian charm eventually broke us; I ordered an 'antipasto typico.'

As we sat sipping our wine, he brought the first plate of antipasti - frech anchovies in olive oil. Although we were all a little worried at first (anchovies don't have the best reputation in the states) we figured when would we be able to eat fresh anchovies again, right? And it turns out these little suckers were really tasty.

Well that was a good appetize...what's this? Um, beans are typical of the regi...oh, those aren't beans they're bombolini? What? Oh, bombolini are snails. Ok.

Well, when's the next time we're going to eat snails? A little picking, a little sucking, and down the hatch it goes...and...wow, not so bad. Let's try a couple more.

If you ever get to eat a snail, do it. By the end of the plate, Sissy was basically fighting us over the last few. They were that good.

Alright, antipasti is ove...more? Bruschetta? Fantastic. Beans? Wow. Random white fish with oil and herbs? Divine.

Popolo? Um, that looks like, um, tentacles. Is that, um, Octopus? Um, yes, yes it is.

I have to say, the octopus was fine, but not great. A little chewy. The dressing was very good though.

And finally, the antipasti ended. We were informed that the four of us ate antipasti for two. I'm not sure if that's true, because we could barely eat our main course. Spaghetti with fish sauce, Polenta with frutta di mare, gnocchi with radicchio and porcini in a cream sauce, and pisatelle with a white fish sauce all went half eaten (well, I finished my gnochhi; those were like little pillows of wonderful).

Really, the antipasti was the star of the show. And could've been eaten alone.

We've eaten a lot of good foo on this trip so far, but those little snails will certainly hold a place in my heart for many years to come.

View from my bedroom window (part 3)

Perhaps you're seeing a trend here? This is the view from my bedroom in Fano, on the Adriatic coast. We stopped by on our way to Florence. It was pretty quiet, although the summer looks to be crazy; private beaches, umbrellas, and tourist info in German everywhere.

We were lucky, though and caught Fano before the tourists arrived. We didnàt spend long, as we were on our way north, but it was nice to be on the coast and see some water (it was also significantly cooler than in Pratola Serra...). Iàll let Peter tell the story of our delightful dinner here.

The food in Italy

Ah Italian food. So delightful. I'm far from tired of the different pastas, pizzas, salumi, gelato, and other tasty things we're finding to eat.





However- I had never seen this before.




This is patate e wurst pizza. Aka hotdog and french fry pizza. Isn't that what you think of when you think of Italian food? No? Me neither. I don't think it was Peter's best decision either.