Broadening horizons

Friday, 6/17

We said our goodbyes to Rome early this morning and by the time we had strapped on our backpacks and were on the way to the metro, the sun had already heated up the air and the pavement. At the train station we got to purchase very cheap second class tickets for the slow train to Orvieto. The station is huge and all instructions and departures are listed in Italian, so it took us a minute or two but we figured out where we needed to be and what we needed to do. We were even able to help some other tourists figure out how to validate their tickets. Our hour trip through the country side went by very quickly because we were enjoying a pleasant chat with our seatmates (since two pairs of seats face each other on the train), Chris and Victoria (a British couple in their mid-twenties) who were very friendly and enjoyed swapping travel stories with us. Before we knew it, it was time to get off at the Orvieto station. On the front side of the station was the "Funicolare" station (Which is basically a small tram on tracks that goes up the hill at about a 45 degree angle), it was a quick trip to the top and our ticket included a bus ride into the center of town. The twisting cobblestone streets and our daredevil driver made it seem more like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, but luckily we quickly arrived at our stop. We puzzled over the map a bit and wandered some lanes until we found Valentina's B and B. We rang the intercom and Valentina appeared, eager to show us to our room. Our room is lovely. The walls are covered with playful artwork, the furniture is antique and from the region, best of all is the tiny balcony that peeks over the roofs below us and into a neighbor's vegetable garden, where several cats wander and meow, "Ciao!" at us. We enjoyed pasta for lunch and then wandered the town and my, what a beautiful and quaint little town it is! Every ancient wooden door down every winding cobbled lane shares it 's wall with a window box erupting with blooms. The town also has great stories to share from history. Apparently, once when Rome was besieged, the Pope fled to Orvieto. As it was a fortress on a hilltop, it seemed very impenetrable. The only problem was that if the town was surrounded and attacked, it would be a death trap, as it had no water source. So the Pope ordered the people of the town to dig a well. They tried many location in the tufa rock and were finally successful with Saint Patrick's well, which we climbed to the bottom of today. The other attempts to dig for water left a series of caves, that were used for several purposes throughout history, one of which was used as a means of execution for French soldiers who attempted to molest the local women. You've got to respect that sentiment, "You're going to mess with our women? Down the well you go!" In addition to these tourist attractions, we did a ton of sight seeing. Walking the fortress-like wall with views of the Italian vineyards and farmland below, was breathtaking. Another pleasantry related to being on a hilltop, is the weather was slightly cooler. Still plenty warm, but a little less stifling than Rome had been. After a short rest in our room, we went out on the town for a late dinner of stuffed, fried pumpkin blossoms and a mixed salad. We had another nice chat with some tourists. Two gentlemen in their fifties at the table beside us at dinner wanted to practice their English and asked where we were from and where we were going. Turns out they are from Holland and had several tips to give us for later in our trip. The two gentlemen were very impressed with our travel plan and were a delight to visit with. A few more laps around the piazza and we were ready to return to the B and B. Tomorrow will be another early morning travel day, so that we can arrive in Chiusi before the car rental agency closes, after all you can't expect them to stay open past noon on a Saturday. As our next location is a bit remote, we may be going off the grid for a few days. We won't have internet access on the farm, but will keep writing about our experiences and post when we can find a connection. Until then, Arrivederci!

Parting is such sweet sorrow

(Dude... Looks like Steve Tyler!?)

Thursday 6/16

Today was our last day in Rome. We checked the remaining must-see items of my list visiting the Spanish Steps and the Piazza del Popolo. We also managed a walk through the Borghese gardens. It was nice to walk under the shade of the trees admiring landscaping and fountains outside of the hustle and the bustle of Ancient Rome. More pizza, cappuccino, and gelato was consumed. Another afternoon nap was had. Now we are preparing to pack our bags and head out to one more late night dinner. It is such a bittersweet feeling to know we'll be leaving the first city we've ever experienced in Italy, but excited to move on to the hill towns and country side. As we prepare to leave this city, I thought I would attempt to make our departure easier by listing ten things we will not miss about Rome. But I could only come up with five and even those petty annoyances are part of the city's charm.

Five things we won't miss about Rome.

1. Beggars on the street shaking cups at you to ask for change. (It makes me sad.)

2. The smell of car exhaust, garbage, and cigarette smoke. Yuck!

3. The dangers of crossing the street, dodging vespas, taxis, and smart cars and needing to walk in the shadow of a local to know when it is "safe" to cross.

4. Pushy street salesmen that pollute crowded tourist sights by shoving trinkets, flowers, and handbags at you.

5. Traffic noise; honking, shouting, sirens, car alarms, and the roar accelerating of motor bikes.

As I reflect on this list, all of these challenges or unpleasantries result directly from the fact that tourism is a huge part of the Roman economy, especially in the neighborhood we are staying in. Many Romans make there living off of tourists, they count on foreigners to spend their Euro on crappy plastic souvenirs, knock-off handbags, and whatever else it is they think we want or can smooth talk us into. It is not their fault that it's not the experience we are seeking as travelers. Further more the traffic, the trash, and so on is partially what we contribute to the city. We have tried to be aware of our trash and recycling as we visit this city and think about how what we use while we are here and how we dispose of it will affect the people who call this their home. We have also used the public transportation system to avoid putting one more car on the street here (plus it would be really scary to try to drive in this town!) So Rome is not perfect, but in its flaws truth is reflected: what the place was and what it has become. Now for what I've been trying to avoid, what we will miss the most about this city when we depart tomorrow morning.

Ten Things We Love about Rome (Hard to narrow it down to ten, but here we go...)

1. The details in the architecture, a gargoyle here, a lion head door knocker there. The old and the new blend seamlessly and beautiful old churches and little treasures pop up down every cobbled alley way.

2. The Roman women and their commitment to wearing beautiful shoes, every day, even when walking many kilometers down cobbled streets and through dirty metro stations. Their heesl, wedges, and espadrilles sport a 3-4 inch rise and you never see them stumble or sway! (I walked for one afternoon along the streets in flip flops and got a blister, so don't know how they do it!)

3. The Roman men and how they can wear a full suit, complete with white pressed shirts and a tie in nearly 90 degree weather with humidity to boot, and never allow a bead of sweat to appear on their noble brows or let their starched collars wilt. They are very cool characters, even in a crammed bus.

4. The food! Need I say more? See the last several blog entries for the mouthwatering details.

5. Our pension and how we open a heavy fortress like gate into our shady little courtyard and immediately feel protected and at peace in the heart of the city.

6. Our innkeepers who have been so kind, helpful and friendly. We thank them for their perfect ristorante recommendations, helpful advice, and tech support.

7. The unique feel and quality of each neighborhood. Termini has grit and modern flair. North Rome has a million shops, gardens, yet retains old school charm. The Pantheon neighborhood oozes romance and beauty. Vatican City is a world away filled with art, riches, and holy reverence beyond compare.Though we've not made it to South Rome,Pilgrim's Rome or Trastevere, we had to leave some locations unexplored for a return trip in the future. Then of course there is Ancient Rome which is the heart, the history and a perfect home base for first time tourists (like us).

8. Afternoon naps, the only way we've been able to make it to the dinner hour in light of heavy sightseeing and jet lag.

9. The vibrant night scene. The way that the neighborhood bar fills up and spills out onto the sidewalk, the most popular overflowing patrons into the street. Prompting eager bar goers to drop their woman off in front of the bar (as they dodge customers who are sipping wine and drinking beer in the middle of the street) so she can hold some real estate until he gets back from parking hisVespa around the corner.

10. Gelato, at first when I told Greg that a veteran visitor to Italy told me we would be eating gelato twice a day, he doubted he could keep pace. Guess who is sleeping off his afternoon double cone right now?

Is the Pope Catholic?

Wednesday, 6/15

Well, I sure hope the Pope is Catholic because they have built for him an entire country!

Today we got up early and visited the local market, we ate yogurt for breakfast and chose a mozzarella e pomodoro (fancy Italian word for tomato) sandwich to pack in our knapsack for our trip to Vatican city. Did you know that the Vatican is it's own country? This was news to me. Yet it took us less than thirty minutes by Metro to get to that locale. Of course we then had to walk through the streets for ten more minutes to make it to the imposing wall that surrounds the city/country. Luckily we took advantage of the fact that the Pope was holding an audience at St. Peter's square to go to the museum first, while the majority of the crowd was watching the Pope wave to them from his apartment. So, the line that would normally be over an hour wait was less than fifteen minutes. And Joe was thinking, a miracle! (Sorry, couldn't resist mentioning that little inside reference to crazy childhood days with the Hall family...) We saw absolutely dazzling statues, tapestries, and frescos... ending in the spectacular Sistine Chapel. That alone was worth the ticket, no words can describe the detail, time, and artistry that went into this piece. The genius of Michelangelo is stunning. From there we proceeded to St. Peter's square where we took a few photos, but decided not wait in line for two or more hours to see St. Peter's Basilica. The Pope may be Catholic, but we are not even close. So a few photos of his front door were fine for us, besides it was almost nap time. So a short Metro ride and walk later, we were back at home in our Roma Pension for a brief rest. Before we knew it we were hungry again. We realized we have had crêpes, sandwiches, and pizza of every variety, but no pasta yet! We decided to ask our female innkeeper, who was on duty this afternoon, where she would recommend we go. First, she asked, bewildered, "What have you been eating?" And commented that we cannot survive on just pizza alone. So she gave us directions to three different local ristorantes within walking distance. We decide to trust her and went with her first choice, on the same street as the pizzeria. Of course since it wasn't quite 7:30 they weren't open for dinner yet, so our only choice was to go next door to the bar and have a drink. In Italy they have before-dinner drinks as well as wine with dinner and after-dinner drinks. Basically they have a drink for every occasion. No complaints. Being that it was before dinner, we found apertivos on the menu and asked the barkeep about this option. He insisted on bringing each of us an Aperol Spritz. He brought us orangey drinks with ice. Apparently, this was some type of liqueur that tasted like both the sweet orange and the bitter rind mixed with Italian sparkling wine. Very tasty, just the trick to hold us over until dinner. When dinner time finally arrived we sat outside and ordered sparkling water, some local dry white wine and pasta! I had some skinny pasta in a lemon crema sauce and Greg had the house fettuccine with mushrooms and peas. There was also bread and some strange corn flake, cookie, and powdered sugar dessert we were brought with the "costa" the check. This was by far the most filling meal we have eaten in Rome. We had two blocks to walk back home, thank goodness. I immediately fished into my backpack for my exercise bands and tried to work off some of 6 million calories we had just consumed. Probably the best recipe to combat that will be an evening stroll, but that will most likely result in the consumption of more gelato or even worse (better?), cannoli, which I realized last night is offered just across the street. In conclusion: is the Pope Catholic? Hell yes! Must one eat pasta in Rome? Duh!

Roman Ruins

(Inside the Colosseum)

Tuesday, 6/14

Today we saw enough Roman ruins to last a life time. The weather is clammy, yet very warm. So as we toured the Colosseum, the Forum, Palatine Hill, the Palatine museum, Nero's home, the home of Agosto, and the Arch of Septimius Severus, we sweat like wild boars! We climbed steep steps, and marveled at marble statues with broken arms, missing fingers, noses, and penises galore. I guess those protrusions are the first pieces to break off over time! After soaking up all of this archaeological and art history, we were exhausted. Time to grab a bit of spinach ricotta pie at the corner store and a nap. We are starting to understand why sleeping in the afternoon is a common activity here, if you walk that much in the morning you need a little shut eye before you make your evening rounds (plus it is doing wonders to help with the jet lag). I put on a skirt, as jeans had proven way too sticky and hot in the morning and we headed out to do some more sight seeing. A quick word on Roman men: I had avoided wearing a skirt thus far and stuck to jeans and cargo pants, since I had heard that Roman men are very aggressive. I'm not sure if this is a rumor from decades past and the modern Roman man is more refined, but I've had nothing but polite smiles from the young men and eye contact and approving nods from the older gentlemen, not one leer, comment, or uncomfortable moment. On the whole, I've found the men to be very polite and kind. Perhaps this is a result of having my lovely husband only a few strides apart from me. So in light of the heat and the charming men, I feel comfortable wearing my summer wardrobe. Another quick word about Roman people in general: I have found them to be friendly, passionate and beautiful. Sometimes they are tan, sometimes not. Many have brown eyes with a golden light behind them, others have airy blue eyes intensified by their olive skin. I have seen as many varieties of Romans as I have seen in Americans at home. Plus this is a very diverse city in terms of tourists. Americans, Germans, Brits, Africans, Indians, and even those visiting from elsewhere in Italy crowd the streets. We have been very aware of pick-pockets and scams, yet the feeling is very safe; la polizia are everywhere. Yet the expectations are so different. We visited the piazza tonight that housed the Pantheon and gathered around the main fountain where young people sipped bottles of beer, a group walked along with open bottles of wine, and the police car nearby watched with awareness but approval of the scene. Walking the streets with your beer, or standing outside the cafe with your cocktail in a non-designated patio area is very common. In addition to wandering the streets to find the Pantheon, we also took the Metro this evening to find the Trevi fountain. It was much larger and more crowded than I had imagined. This evening, we ended up at our favorite pizzeria and grabbed a few slices of tomato zucchini, and mushroom pizza and a bottle of red wine, to go. For about 10 euro, this seems a very affordable option for dinner. Back in the room, we are watching Italian TV with closed captioning on, so we can learn more of the language. It is nearly 11pm, I think gelato is calling!

More ruins.......................................................Fontana di Trevi

When in Rome...

Monday, 6/13

Our plane arrived in Rome at about 10:30 a.m. local time. We disembarked directly onto the tarmac to find the sky clear, warm, and a light breeze blowing. As a shuttle bus appeared to take us to the terminal, we glimpsed our first bit of country side in the distance. Green trees, rolled and bundled piles of hay, beautiful...but not the modern day city we had expected Rome to be. Indeed we were not in the city proper yet. A quick walk through the airport, following graphics of a train on the signs over head, landed us across the street at the train station, where we effectively purchased tickets from a machine, time stamped it in the red, box-like contraption that keeps you from getting a 100 euro fine and about 15 minutes later, boarded the train for Termini. (This was a cheap ticket, therefore not one we wanted to put on our 15 day flexipass). As we sped past old stone shacks, each one had a garden out back and I was fascinated to see that they are growing many of the same things I am at home in my garden. Squash and tomato plants abound. I even spotted some pomegranate trees and grape vines in backyards. As we approached the city ancient looking apartment buildings rose to towering heights, each one decorated with rooftop and balcony gardens and a parade of colorful laundry hung out to dry. When we finally arrived at the train station we began the backpack laden trek through the underground to find the metro blue line, which surprisingly we did find with little trouble. At another machine, we each got a one euro ticket to ride the underground to a stop just about a block or two from our hotel. We wandered about looking for our hotel. We knew we were close, we had directions, we had found the correct street, yet the actual hotel eluded us. We took off our backpacks by an inviting public fountain that looked safe enough and reread our directions. Once we had the street number we came to terms with the fact that Roman street addresses are often out of order and skip around, going up and down as they please. We finally found our number beside a heavy wooden door (almost gate like), very easy to walk past, which marked the entrance to the pension. We hit the buzzer and the door unlocked, ushering us into a charming little courtyard, completely invisible from the street we had just come from. We followed a sign up some stairs and found the soft spoken but friendly inn-keeper who let us know he'd gotten our room ready early. He chivalrously took my back pack from me, swung it onto his shoulder, and led Greg and I back through the courtyard and up another flight of stairs, through another imposing wooden door into a marble floored corridor. Down this hall were doors with no numbers, we were given a key to the second one on the left. It is small, charming and very clean . Marble floors as well, with decorative crown moulding. We were given a ring with three keys for each of the doors we had to pass through, and were left to peer out the shutter clad window down to the cobbled street where a gypsy woman sat breast feeding a toddler.

After a brief rest and some soap to wash the plane off, we were back on street in search of our first Italian pizza. Our inn-keeper gave us directions to the best, fresh pizza rustica, just around the block. "You try!" he insisted. So we did. We found the shop under an unassuming neon sign stating simply, "PIZZA." Inside we marveled at all the different varieties of toppings that decorated the pizzas, all displayed on a cutting board. We selected cheese and squash blossom. We learned through observation that you point at which one you want, they gesture with the knife how big of a slice and you, gesture bigger or smaller. Then the slice warms in the oven while you grab a drink and pay. The crust was so fresh but crisp, the cheese a million levels of flavor and texture and the squash blossoms certainly picked that morning due to their crisp yet tender flavor added another level of pleasure. I think I shall have to eat pizza each day I am in Rome. Same goes for gelato. We've already split a crema and pineapple after lunch, and then indulged in other rich flavors after dinner. I can't say enough about the food, but enough about the food for now. We did burn some calories just exploring our area today. We caught a glimpse of the Colosseum as we walked down the street our hotel is on. So casually, Greg spied it and said, "Oh look, isn't that the Colosseum?" just as one would say, "Oh look there is the post office!" It is surreal to be walking around and see columns, archaeological dig sites, and amazing sculptures right in the middle of this big city. We spent some time getting lost on purpose in a maze of cobbled streets, steep stairs that bridge the gap between city blocks, basically burning off some of that great food. After a brief nap, we were back on the streets for dinner. We found a charming wine bar called "Cavour 313" the address was the name of the ristorante. We each had a distinctly unique glass of red wine, a salad with goat cheese and anchovies as well as canelloni with chicory and ricotta. Fresh peppery arugula and the paper thin crepe like enclosure for the filling of cheese and greens, were delicious. Then off for an evening stroll, which of course means the second round of gelato. This time I tried chocolate and hazelnut and Greg sampled the blackberry and dark chocolate. We are quickly learning that when in Rome, if you eat like the Romans you will be very content!

(Pictures coming soon... Our hotel's "wee-fee" connection won't allow uploads at the moment!)

Morning update: photos added! If you look closely you'll see the Colosseum at the top of this street... That's how close we are! OK, time for our first Cappuccinos to kick off day two.

Bon Voyage

Sunday, 6/12

We woke up at 3:30 a.m. after only three to four hours of sleep. As I mentioned in the previous log, Rose, our house sitter, managed to get us to LAX in plenty of time to be body scanned, passport checked, and packed onto a plane headed for Montreal, where we would have a several hour lay over before crossing the Atlantic. The five hour flight from USA to Canada was fairly uneventful. Greg and I shared three seats next to the window, no third party ever materialized. We had a gorgeous view of the snow-capped Rockies as we flew over Colorado. We munched on a pretty tasteless mozzarella sandwich we had purchased at the airport cafe for lunch. We enjoyed trying to decipher the flight attendants announcements in French. We watched two movies on the touch screens on the headrest in front of us, fancy new plane entertainment systems! When we finally arrived in Canada, the first country outside of the U.S. I have ever stepped foot in, we were pleased to find out that customs was a very simple procedure. Passport check, hand in a form and send you on to your connecting flight. No tricky questions, no mean authority figures, just pleasant French and English speaking Canadians. I think that everything is bit more palatable when spoken in French. Even their Canadian children, were positively charming playing rock, paper, scissors while waiting in the terminal. Our brusque American, "Rock, paper, scissors," chant that accompanies the game has no poetry. The lyrical song of the Canadian youths gave this old game new luster. The little I could see of Canada from the airport made me want to return some day; green trees in the distance, winding rivers we saw during our descent, and how we landed with blue skies that quickly turned ominous, a drenching rain storm rolled through and an hour later their was a blue sky punctuated by wispy clouds. It seems a beautiful place from the little we saw of it. We braved some more airport cafe food, trying a vegetable quiche that was at the very least, warm and gelatinous. Finally, we boarded the plane to Rome. Indeed we are learning that despite some online reviews by less than satisfied passengers, Air Canada is actually pretty cool. For the second time we couldn't believe our luck, when a third person didn't claim a seat next to us. This time in the center, Greg and I have left the seat between us empty, each of us having our own aisle and plenty of room for our pillows and blankets to make a sleepy pile between us. We were delighted to find these amenities on our seats because our experience with air travel over the last several years had lead us to believe that these only existed in first class and fairy tales of long ago. We were also surprised by a hot meal and a complimentary glass of wine. Are you kidding? This is too cushy for coach! The warm tea with milk served after the hot meal helped to melt away any stress that remained from the previous day. Now I am about to curl up and catch a little nap, hopefully waking much closer to our Italian portion of this holiday. Ciao!

Mel, enjoying the in-flight entertainment system.

Greg, beginning to feel the effects of three hours sleep during our lay over in Montreal.

Expect the Unexpected

Saturday, 6/11

If we had looked upon this day as a prediction of what our trip would be like, we may have stayed home. To say that nothing went as planned would be an understatement. We learned that our beloved cat, Nala, has a urinary tract infection and requires a seven day course of medication. We realized with a fair degree of panic that our train reservations were actual physical documents that needed to be picked up in Pasadena, not just the nebulous Internet record that we thought them to be. Our brand new camera, which was a gift that Greg's parents given to us for this trip, malfunctioned and the lens refused to open all the way. All of this in the midst of trying to pack and ready the house for our departure. And then the locusts descended....well, in truth they were bees. While cleaning out the garage so we could park one car there in our absence, a trickle of bees were spotted flitting about, which quickly increased to swarm. What they were after, who is to say. I had just seen a PBS special on bees which prompted me to shout full of conviction, "The queen is calling them with her pheromones, find the queen and move here!" Hah, what must the neighbors think. We finally decided containing them was best because they were arriving in droves. We closed the garage door and miraculously they started fleeing through a vent in the roof, but only after we doused those who were swarming around the closed door with a spray of water from the hose. Crisis averted, we wondered how we would finish all that needed to be done in order to make it to our flight the next morning. I am glad to say that, though everything started out all wrong, in the end everything turned out fine, thanks to a supportive team of family and friends. Yih- Mei, a friend who lives in the valley, was driving out our way and was easily persuaded to help us out by picking up our train reservations and dropping them at our doorstep. Yes, we love her! My mom and grandma arrived with lunch. Thanks you, ladies! Greg's mom volunteered to take the camera back to the store and returned with a brand new camera. You rock, Sue! Rose, our patient and wonderful house sitter has the cat meds under control and she calmly dealt with our crazy last minute packing and awakened full of grace to drive us to the airport on time. You were our savior, Rose! So I had several thoughts about why everything went wrong. A. The trip is doomed and these were signs that we should not go, if so too late, we are already on the plane. B. Karma, all those people who said they were so jealous of our plans, they were hexing us out of spite (that's not really what karma is, but you get the idea). C. It was an overarching theme for our trip, a prediction that though not all will go as planned, all will turn out fine. Or D. (my personal favorite) an opportunity to remind us that we have an amazing group of friends and family who can look after things in our absence and we really need not stress about the life we are leaving behind as we enjoy a summer of travel. Draw your own conclusions, but as I fly over the Great White North, preparing for our layover in Montreal, I choose to believe that everything went wrong the day before we left on our trip, to keep us in balance in the universe and everything is about to go very right.

Nala, saying her farewells.