Category: Travel

My kind of errands

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On Saturday, around 5:00 pm, in the finally crisp fall weather, we set off on our evening passagiata.  Passagiata is that special time in the late afternoon when you just walk, browse store windows, see and be seen.  Another expat describes it well here.  The people watching really is fantastic.  I particularly like this walk because, if Henry will consent to being stroller-ed, it is almost like a mini-date for James and me.

Although restaurants won’t open until around 7:00 pm, most of the stores are open, after possibly being closed during mid-afternoon.  We took advantage of this to check a few tasks off the list.

Up first, the tabacchi.  That’s right, the tobacco store.  We don’t smoke, but I almost think of these things like gas stations for pedestrians.  You can get snacks, magazines, and–our aim–metro/bus tickets.  I’ve got 10 tickets burning a hole in my pocket now.  I’m hoping to share some adventures in public transportation soon!

Next, we strolled over to the wine store.  I’m still scared to take in the stroller because of space issues and fear of Henry grabbing bottles, but James picked up more recommendations from his fave employee (a French woman who speaks excellent English).  The last batch had a good mouth feel, but, now that the weather is cooling, I’m looking for something more robust.  Look for more wine tweets on these soon.

And then, the pasticceria.  Oh, the pasticceria!  This is a pastry and chocolate shop that we have passed many times but never entered.  (I again blame the stroller and Henry grabbing things.)  James came out with 18 euros worth of amazing looking chocolate.  He picked up some dark chocolate bark with hazelnut pieces and some little bonbon squares.  We’ll see how long these stick around.  They are incredibly rich so it would be hard to eat a lot of them at once.  I think.

After the kids went to bed, we had some incredible takeout from Himalaya’s Kashmir.  Followed by a pretty stellar wine and dessert course.  This was a nice Saturday night before dealing with Daylight Savings Time, which I now know to have been invented only to torture parents.  We start earlier than the U.S. so for the next few days, I’m only five hours ahead of you folks on the East Coast.

All the rage in Milan, I mean Rome

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Let’s talk fashion.  Style.  What the Romans are wearing day to day.  But first, let me acknowledge that this post would be infinitely better if it was filled with pictures of actual Romans.  I get that.  But originally this post was going to have no pictures.  I didn’t want to stealth photo anybody, and I didn’t see interactions to ask for a pic going well.  (Besides the fact that I generally have hands full of stroller navigating 45 degree angled sidewalks which does not make it easy to quickly pap someone.)

But then I had the “brilliant” idea of at least photographing shop windows.  And asking James to stealth photo people.  (You’ll see; James stalked A LOT of dudes for this post.  I think I’ll actually make that a whole separate post.  I know.  The suspense is killing you.)  So there is glare, but let there be photos!

I like to pretend that James was hiding in the bush to take this picture

I like to pretend that James was hiding in the bush to take this picture

So with that out of the way here are some generalizations about fashion I’ve seen during my two months in Rome.  I would not say this goes for the rest of Italy, or even the other side of the city.

If I had to pick one word for Roman style it would be deliberate.  An outfit may not be my exact cup of tea, but everything looks like it is selected purposefully.  People have really embraced Stacy London’s “completer piece.”  There is usually something–a jacket, cardigan, scarf, or necklace–that ties everything together and makes it look even more deliberate.

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In Rome, people dress the seasons and not the weather.  (This did not seem to be the case at Hadrian’s Villa where it seemed to be acknowledged that wearing a jacket in 85 degree weather is ridiculous.)  Temps are finally cooling, but once mid-September hit, it was all jackets, scarves, and boots all the time.  Even when it was in the 80s.  Strangely, people do not seem to be uncomfortable.  Good for them.  I’d love to know the secret.  Probably something obvious like “be from a Mediterranean climate.”

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The print on this dress. I die!

Clothing pieces seem to be a little more special.  I think this contributes to the deliberate look that is put together.  I’ve noticed pieces with drape, asymmetry, extra zippers, bits of leather, or pockets that just give that little bit of pizzazz.

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For men, styles are generally tighter.  Pants and tops.  I see collars–polo or button-up–more often than not.  When no collar, a large amount of message or graphic tees.  I’ve seen this on both sexes but more for men: a sweater over the shoulders is a prevalent fall look.  Men of all ages wear scarves.

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Men of a certain age almost universally wear utility vests.  I’d like to know how this comes about that these men look ready to go fishing or sweep streets.  Do they hand them out at your retirement party?  “Ah, finalmente, I have space for my keys and tissues!”

But really, what do they put in all those pockets?  I saw a man with a utility vest AND a man bag once.  His umbrella didn’t fit, I guess?

I’m looking forward to seeing how utility vests are styled as it gets colder.  I saw a man with a windbreaker OVER his vest the other day.  Which seemed odd, but after greater inspection, makes sense because then you can take off the windbreaker.  And stuff it in one of your utility vest pockets.  I am also seeing some jackets that look like utility vests with sleeves.  Stay tuned!

Blurry, but an excellent representation of the vest. Many more vest pics to come.

Blurry, but an excellent representation of the vest. Many more vest pics to come.

On women, styles are both tighter and looser.  They like to play with proportion.  I have seen some amazing harem and parachute pants that would make Princess Jasmine envious.

I'm also seeing 3/4 length sleeved puffer coats. Sadly not pictured.

I’m also seeing 3/4 length sleeved puffer coats. Sadly not pictured.

Women of all ages have great style.  A friend described what they call the “fashion mullet” aka seeing someone who appears very young from the back based on their outfit, but is much older when turning around.  I haven’t noticed this as much, but maybe just because I want to be wearing tight pants and camo when I’m 80.  I saw a grandmother wearing a sheer shirt once, but she was definitely pulling it off.

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Romans do not wear hats.  (Other than moto helmets.)  I noticed because James usually wears baseball caps, and I was hunting for an Italian alternative.  There is not one.  This is true even for kids.  When Henry wears his hats, it means I can pick him out from across the playground.  If you see someone with a hat, this is a likely indication they are a tourist.

Do not be fooled by the hat the mannequin is holding. No one will buy it.

Do not be fooled by the hat the mannequin is holding. No one will buy it.

Or you can look at their shoes.  I have seen some fabulous shoes here.  Generally not on tourists who go for comfort above all else.  I have seen plenty of women in sky high heels and wonder how they navigate the city.  But I’ve seen other shoes that look more comfortable but still interesting.  There are plenty of boots out there now, natch.  See earlier statement about fall.

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More often than not, outfits are accessorized with a cigarette.  I truly don’t care if you smoke, but it is a peeve of mine when people walk down the sidewalk smoking.  It just makes it impossible to dodge.

I’m probably (definitely) deluding myself, but I don’t think I stick out that badly.  I like tight pants.  I’m not wearing tennis shoes.  I like jackets.  Just not in 80 degree weather.  But my pasty complexion will give me away every time.

Roman Locomotion (as observed by a pedestrian)

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This is about how Romans get around on the roads.  Plenty of people walk.  And there is public transportation in the form of buses, trams, and the metro.  I’ll cover that once I figure it out.  The public transportation, that is.  I am theoretically proficient at walking.

Everyone here drives.  EVERYONE.  Your grandmother, your teenagers, families with kids, soccer hooligans.  Everyone.  According to the internets, Rome has almost 2.9 million people.  According to my unscientific observations, 92% of them drive.  “But where do they all park??” you ask incredulously.  I know.  I’m still trying to figure this out.  The best I can tell is they park (1) on top of each other and (2) wherever they can.

Up first, the motorini.  There are crazy numbers of motos on the road.  They zip in and out from between cars.  They jostle for position at lights, blocking crosswalks.  This seems like the most efficient way for a single person to get around, but also very terrifying.  I have not yet verified, but someone told me that motorini count as pedestrians in the eyes of the law, which contributes to their fearlessness because they have little to lose in an accident.  BESIDES THEIR LIVES.  At least most do wear helmets.  Usually with a cell phone stuffed under it to chat on the commute.

See the motorini gearing up to go?

See the motorini gearing up to go?

They move in herds and they park in gaggles.  You might see 10, 50, or even 100 all grouped together.

Henry is in moto heaven.  I would think he’d get sick of it, but he comments on all of them as we go by.  Easy distraction = I’ll take it.

A small-ish herd of motorini

A small-ish herd of motorini

They also park on the sidewalks.  Most of them are black or silver.  I would think you’d see more individuality for ease of locating yours, if not in color then in stickers or something.  Basically the equivalence of tying a ribbon onto your black suitcase.  But this hasn’t been the case.  I see a few pops of color.  Red, blue, yellow.  And one moto with a Bob Marley sticker.  I guess Italians just remember where they park these things.  So much for my “Dude, where’s my Motorino” movie pitch.

Considerate motos . . . plenty of room to pass

Considerate motos . . . plenty of room to pass

But don’t fret.  There are plenty of cars on the road as well.  Cars are definitely of a more compact nature.  I see a lot of Fiats, Smart Cars, and Minis.  We’ve run across some really adorable vintage Fiats and Minis, but I do not have pictures of them for you because I am the worst.

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Cars park up and down both sides of most streets.  They create spaces where none exist.  They occasionally block sidewalks, particularly when they park on corners.  I’ve had some frustrating moments where a sidewalk is impassable, but it is impossible to get into the street because the cars are parked that close together.

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I’m not entirely sure on the draw of driving.  I know plenty of times you don’t have a choice.  But it seems to take forever.  They just sit in traffic.  Burning through expensive gasoline.

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An interesting phenomenon we’ve observed is their unorthodox approach to going places without actually knowing where they are going.  We’ve been stopped at least three times from people pulling over to ask for directions.  (This also happens a lot with pedestrians.)  There just seems to be the mentality of, well, we don’t know exactly where we’re going, but surely someone will tell us along the way.

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Romans will fit 10 Smart cars in that space

There are a few bicycles on the road, but not very many.  I see more bikes in parks.  Unlike motorini, not many helmets on bikers.

You do see some sci-fi type creations as well.  This is a Renault Twizy, which is battery powered.

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I’ve seen other unusual vehicles as well.  I’ll work harder on snapping photos of them in their natural habitat!

That time we accidentally crashed a movie set

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We did it!  We finally went on an outing in the car.  After my indecision and the dead car battery kept us from any exotic long weekend plans, we decided to do a day trip on Columbus Day to Tivoli.  Villa D’Est is closed on Mondays, but we could still hit Hadrian’s Villa (Villa Adriana).  Armed with the freshly-recharged car battery, a haphazard picnic, the umbrella stroller, and the lillebaby, we set off around 9:30 am.  Adventure ho!

Have I mentioned our car before?  It’s a 2003 Audi station wagon.  Very low mileage because it used to be the Irish Ambassador’s to the Vatican.  (Or something like that.)  Instead of shipping a car, we bought it here right before we came.  This one is already “lightly Romanized.”  No need to put that many dinks and scratches on our beloved Passat we decided.

Even though it is a station wagon, the car is definitely not huge.  Poor Henry doesn’t have quite the foot room he deserves sitting behind James.  He’s stuck there though because Mac’s rear-facing car seat only has a chance of fitting behind me.

James insisted on purchasing a European GPS before we embarked on any journeys.  He didn’t want our hands in the fate of sketchy data coverage on the Google maps.  Fine by me.  I’m not sure I plan on driving ever so whatever you need to make this happen, Little Mister, is ok with me.

The GPS said it would take us about 30 minutes.  It was about an hour.  Traffic reaffirmed my desire never to drive here ever.  And it wasn’t just the other drivers.  There really aren’t lanes.  It isn’t even a question of whether there are two or three lanes, but also not knowing where the center dividing line is.  Fun!

After navigating the roads out of town and the Autostrade, the GPS tried to lead us astray.  Thankfully, following the Italian road signs actually worked out.  After some maneuvering, we found the parking lot.  We noticed some white tents to the side of the parking lot.  I think I said something like “oh, cool, a market, we’ll have to check that out later.”  (Foreshadowing: not a market.)

Tickets were a little pricey.  11 euro for adults plus 3 more for parking, but at least kids were free.  We made it up what felt like a never ending hill and then there we were.  You could see the wall.  Of course, we did a quick diaper change before heading in.  #placesmysonsjunkhasbeen

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Apparently Villa Adriana is the OG Versailles.  Warning: liberal paraphrasing ahead.  It seems that Hadrian decided Rome was too stinky and gross so he built his own place outside town and then just posted up there permanently.  And it is quite the place.  400 acres.  We barely scratched the surface, and that is only of what has already been excavated.

It's only a model

It’s only a model

One of the better preserved areas we saw was the Canopus.  Apparently Hadrian put a bunch of copies of things he’d seen on his travels and conquests.

Canopus

Canopus

Yup - that's a crocodile statue

Yup – that’s a crocodile statue

I spent a good bit of time just trying to picture what it must have been like back in the day.  Orchards in bloom, people clustered around doing whatever they did, servants scurrying.  I’m pretty bad at picturing, but you could tell it was an impressive place.  I did note that it was pretty much 85 in mid-October.  So everyone I pictured was pretty sweaty.

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We struggled mightily with the how much to push question.  I paid my 25 euros.  I came all the way here.  I wanted to see things, darnit!  Henry, however, wanted to roll his car in the dirt.  And slide down a hill on pine needles.  And the lizards that were EVERYWHERE.  After lugging the stroller up too many stairs and wishing we had more food, we were stick-a-fork-in-it done.  The kids both passed out on the way to the car.  I was looking forward to checking out that market and the picnic in the car.

Spaz included for scale

Spaz included for scale

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On the long walk back to the car, we noticed that an area was closed off for “cinema” something or other.  There were an awful lot of vehicles over that way.  Then we saw dudes on horses.  In full Roman soldier regalia.  And we heard a director yelling something in English.

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So that “market” we saw was the makeshift production village.  They had trailers and people with costumes.  People eating in a shaded mess area and generally taunting our stomachs.  Animals such as donkeys and goats; location of PETA representative unknown.  We just sort of wandered through.  Nobody told us to get out.  Or really seemed to notice us at all for that matter.

These people could be famous!

These people could be famous!

Sadly, I can’t tell you what was filming.  I really wish I could.  It’s not because we were sworn to secrecy.  I just don’t know!  I’ve tried my hardest (read: light Googling), but I can’t find anything.  It could be a local Italian TV show or the next summer blockbuster.  I should have spent more time looking for names on trailer doors!  Stay tuned for more adventures by car that are mandatory to keep the battery charged.

State of the Situation

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We’ve been here almost seven weeks.  W00t!  It’s true what they say: time flies when you’re trying to figure things out in a foreign country.  For fun, here are some stats and updates on previously discussed topics.

Cappuccinos enjoyed (Melissa):  3

Cappuccinos enjoyed (James): eleventy billion   Ok, it just feels that way.  But I think he gets 2/day at work.

Restaurants sat in as a family:  2  We did go to one 2x.  We’ll try to increase this number, but tough because most places don’t open until 1900 or 1930.  We have done pizza and panini take out.

Date Nights:  2  This should be four, but we’ve have had babysitter cancellation.  We’re currently trying to find more sitters.

Exotic Takeout Delivered:  1!  After I mentioned a lack of options, I discovered justeat.it.  For you law-firmians, this is very similar to seamless.  They have plenty of Japanese, Chinese, Indian, and Thai places listed.  The knock is that most places don’t open until late which means delivery is pretty late.  I don’t think it could be here in time for a family dinner, but we may use it as an at-home date night after the kids are in bed.

Days of whole30:  9ish  After declaring my plans, I was going strong with only one accidental goof.  (I put some premade pesto on veggies before remembering, duh, parmesan.)  I was proud that I made it through a weekend.  But then last night we ordered sushi and I went a little crazy with some off-plan rice and soy sauce.  This is definitely not the way the program is supposed to work.  If you give it a try, I encourage you to really stick with it for 30 days.  I think I had a different mindset knowing that I might allow myself to wrap up early.  It has been a really helpful reset, and I’ve made it through the feel-crappy-early-days.  I’m sticking with it again for now, but might stop based on any weekend travel plans.  For example, it just would seem all kinds of wrong to go to Tuscany and not have a little wine.

Markets visited: 2  One vegetable and one antique.

Parks visited: 3  We’ve made it to Villa Borghese, Villa Ada, and Villa Torlonia.

Playgrounds visited:  5  We’ve been to two in Borghese, one in Ada, and two in our neighborhood.  If there is a playground, Henry will find it.  And immediately head to the swings.

Trips outside Rome:  0  😦  But we just booked our trip to Germany for this December!  We’re going to see the Christmas markets in Munich and Nuremberg.  Excited to cross something off the travel wish list.  We may see about something close by this holiday weekend as well.  The rest of our stuff gets here Friday (holla!), so there will definitely be plenty of unpacking to keep us busy.

Runs:  1  I’m embarrassed to say just the one at this point.  I resolved here to do more exercise, and this still needs work.  I did pilates two mornings, but Mac has been uncooperative with his sleeping.  This means I might be dealing with him in the morning or just more tired from being up.  I am trying to be more deliberate about going for walks.  Which has the added strength training benefit of pushing a large stroller or carrying an 18 pounder.

Suckers given to Henry:  2  He added another to his count of freebies.

Visitors:  0  But we have people coming in December and April!

Gelato eaten:  too much to count

 

 

Wine tweets (Vol. 2): What I’ve been drinking*

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*Descriptions from a wine/beer lover who is really bad at talking about it

Want more wine tweets? See here.

The good

The good

Starting on the left, the Toscana was one James let Henry pick out at the grocery store.  Natch, he went with the red lion.  This was medium-bodied.  It was just ok.  Definitely drinkable, but it didn’t have the rich mouth feel I wanted.  #notreallyspecial #toddlersommelierfail

We had the neighbors over for drinks after the kiddos went to bed.  You know the cool, lived-all-over-the-world, no kids neighbors?  They brought this wine.  Of course, it was amazing.  They claim it was a grocery store find, but I haven’t tracked it down yet.  Smooth, inky, delicious.  #wontyoubemyneighbor

This Dolcetto d’Alba is my favorite Dolcetto yet.  I think.  We had two in close succession.  One was outstanding, the other was meh.  James claims this was the good one, but I’ll need to track down another bottle to see.  If it IS the good one, it is medium, fruity, good mouth feel.  Everything you’d want in your dolcetto.  #everyday #versatile

The Teroldego on the right is one of my new faves.  Another super cheap grocery store find.  James tells me I can’t get this in the U.S. so I should not get too attached.  Another smooth wine with a great mouth feel.  (Noticing a trend here?)  #repeatbuy #mustimportteroldego

The OK

The OK

The Est! Est!! Est!!!, from a region with a charming back story, was Italian adequate.  Meaning good, drinkable, but a little forgettable.  I think this one was on the fruitier end of the spectrum.  #enjoyedbutnotblownaway

The Frascati is one of the rare local wines.  The only word that really came to mind for this one is “light.”  It wasn’t very sweet, very fruity, or very dry.  It was just pretty light.  This sounds underwhelming, I know, but it wasn’t bad.  Definitely a refreshing wine to drink when it is hot out.  #summer #laziolocal

I had high hopes for this one because I am a sucker for bottle art.  In the end, I was disappointed, but mostly because of expectations.  I thought it would be on the light and fruity side, but it was more like chardonnay.  And I was not in the mood for chardonnay that day.  As far as chardonnay-ish wines go, it was ok.  I thought it improved on the second day.  James thought it got worse.  #thelobsterledmeastray

The ugly

The ugly

Which brings us to the lone beer of the group.  Hats off to the folks at nabiretta for making beer in Italy, but I was really disappointed.  This one started off ok, but went all wrong as you swallowed.  I wouldn’t call it homebrew-y because that would be an insult to homebrewers.  Of course, I was disappointed by the lack of hops, but the malt just tasted off.  #didnotfinish

P.S. I’m not off my whole30; it just takes me that long to get around to writing these up.

 

Another reason I need to learn Italian

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Besides needing to stop trying to shoplift produce and to stop talking about multiple anuses, I have another reason to learn Italian.  I have a very beautiful child.  This isn’t just biased mom speak here, although I certainly am that.  I know that he is beautiful because the Italians keep telling me.

Irresistible to Italians since 2014

Irresistible to Italians since 2014

Typical scenario:  picture me huffing away pushing the double stroller.  Usually elderly Italian walks up and coos at the kids.  Sometimes they just flip me a “Complimenti” and walk on.  Other times they want more of a chat.  I just smile and nod while my brain is going a hundred miles per hour to try to keep up.  I once told the little old lady “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”  She nodded and just kept talking.  In Italian.  I usually try to throw in a few “Henry, say ciao” or similar to hopefully signify that I do not speak the Italian and I am not purposely trying to anger everyone here over the age of 60.

Enjoying said free sucker

People give Henry things.  Our first time in a restaurant, the waiter rolls up with a ball of dough on a plate and sets it in front of Henry.  And then sat back just to watch what happened.  (Henry licked it and then set it down.)  We walked past a flower stall and the man pulled out a rose for Henry.  He got a free sucker at the panini place.  The kid is racking up freebies.

Henry currently draws more attention, but Mac also has a devoted following.  He had a pretty resounding cheek squishing at the pizza place and then the lady stalked him down the street for additional squishing when we paused to chat with a neighbor.  I can’t really blame her.

You can't resist the squish

You can’t resist the squish

A surprising number of people have asked if they are twins.  Mac is big, but not that big . . .

Adorable? Who, us?

Adorable? Who, us?

So here is my blanket apology to all the Italians I am not properly responding to as you compliment my children.  Learn Italian.  I’m on it.  In the meantime, I am flattered, and I hope my smile and heartfelt “grazie” do the trick.

 

What is your personal Snickers?

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The rest of our stuff should be showing up in the next week or so.  We did a pretty good job packing.  I really haven’t felt deprived.  But of this collection, I am most excited to see:

  • The kitchen trashcan.  Our place came with a trashcan.  It has a step on lid that doesn’t really work.  The bag doesn’t really stay on.  And it is so very small.  It looks like a bathroom can.  Even with mandatory recycling, I feel like the thing fills up every time I blink.  Frequent emptying is probably a good thing given the lack of garbage disposal, but it currently seems a little ridiculous.
  • Tissues.  I also miss nice toilet paper, but I can’t remember if I packed any.  The pipes are so old here that Italy has just decided not to let people have quality paper products.  (My working theory anyway.)  Years ago I had a household ban on tissues.  Why bother if you can just use TP?  And then I rediscovered the pillowy softness of a high quality tissue as it caresses your nose and have not looked back.  Surely there are tissues here somewhere.  I’m just having trouble finding them.
  • The boys’ cribs.  We have loaner cribs right now.  These have been perfectly adequate, but they have bars instead of our chunky slats.  I feel like there has been more pacifier escapage.  The loaner mattresses are so thin you could probably fold them in quarters.  This has made changing sheets easy, but I’ll be glad when they have their nicer mattresses back.

Someone told me that when their daughter was in Italy, she craved Snickers but couldn’t find them.  So her mom would send care packages with Snickers.  I totally get missing things, but Snickers surprised me.  This is the land of chocolate and gelato!  I may have an unhealthy relationship with Kinder Chocolate that I have been indulging.

But now that I’ve been here for a bit, I’ve had a chance to think about what may own “personal Snickers” is.  I do have a few.  Unlike the above, these things are not showing up with our stuff.  Many of them couldn’t come even if I wanted them to.

Grocery delivery.  In the year before leaving DC, we converted to Relay Foods disciples and never looked back.  Before, we had been doing double grocery store duty at the local Giant and then Whole Foods to get the nice meats.  Enter Relay Foods.  They would deliver Whole Foods/farmers’ market quality food right to my front door.  Granted, you were paying WF prices, but I thought it was pretty reasonable.  We paid $30/month for unlimited delivery.  You just filled up your virtual cart and they would deliver it the next day.

I miss it so much.  I feel like I am constantly grocery shopping.  1) We need more food because we’re eating at home more and 2) I have to take more trips because we can’t carry that much.  It’s either what I can carry myself or shove under the stroller.

I’m talk more on this later, but grocery shopping is a pain with both kids.  The stroller is unwieldy.  If I take the stroller, where do I put the groceries when I’m shopping?  I’m hoping some day that Henry can walk there and back, but you just never know with that guy.  And then I’m stuck carrying stuff until I find a personal grocery cart we can buy.

Hops.  They do have beer here.  There is a whole aisle in the store.  But it seems to be pretty much a lager party.  I miss good-ole-American-punch-you-in-the-face hops.  We’ve heard there is a developing craft beer scene here.  I’ll report back when I encounter it.

A variety of takeout options.  Where we lived in DC, we could get a range of takeout or carryout.  For $15-40, I could get Thai, Mexican, Sushi, Greek, Vietnamese, Chinese, or Indian for the whole family to eat in the comfort of my own home.  Which is key with the small kids.  We do restaurants, but it is nice not to have to do restaurants, you know?  And we do lots of cooking, but sometimes you just don’t want to cook.

We had been warned that Rome does not have international cuisine and this has been largely true.  There are two Chinese restaurants in our neighborhood.  We’ve heard of a Mexican restaurant across town.  I’m sure there are others, but you definitely don’t have your pick of everything a few blocks away.

I swear I’m not sick of Italian food yet.  Just in this one instance of takeout.  It would be great to have something other than pizza or panini to grab when we are feeling lazy.  The pizza and panini are pretty amazing.  But OPTIONS.  And you never know if the pizza or panini place is actually open, but that’s another post.

King bed.  We had a king back home.  We opted not to take it.  Our place here is furnished so it didn’t make as much sense.  Also, others told us that it wouldn’t fit.  Even if it would fit in the room, they might not be able to get it into the place it would have to be abandoned by the roadside.  I figured this could be a good chance to test drive a queen; wouldn’t our room look so much bigger if we opted for a queen later?

I miss it so much more than I expected.  I’ve slept in plenty of queen beds.  They aren’t that much smaller, right?  WRONG.  It seems fine to start off.  But the number of times I have woken up about to fall out of bed is more than I’d care to admit.  The day I wake up on the floor is coming.  I’ll make sure to tell you about it, probably in a post with an ill-advised name such as “Queen are the Worst.”

I’m sure there are others, but that is what I’ve missed the most in the first month.  What is your personal Snickers?

They have how many what now?

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Strides have been made on the Italian learning front.  Longer strides for James.  He did a week-long, three hours/day Italian survival class.  I would have too, but you know, kids.  I’m pretty impressed with him.  He was in the more advanced group and their teacher, a 4’10” fantastic dresser from Naples, does everything in Italian.  He’s been holding his own and then some.  Apparently after he was a little tired one day, his classmates told him to get his act together for the next day.  Because who else who hassle the teacher about all the grammar rules that don’t make sense?

On the home front, we had our first meeting with our Italian tutor this week.  The plan is for her to come once a week at 2000, then watch the already sleeping kids so we can date night.  I really want conversation practice.  I need someone to force me out from behind my books and duolingo lessons and make me say something–anything–in Italian.  Our first session was pretty light on this, but I have hope for the future.

And I definitely enjoyed the date night part of the evening.  James and I hopped in a cab and walked all around downtown.  And maybe ate a little gelato.  I was enjoying it too much to take pictures, but we went from the Pantheon, through Campo de’ Fiori, and over to the Campidoglio.  It was beautiful.  Hard to describe, but it really looked like a movie set.  Gleaming cobblestones, beautiful people bursting out of sidewalk cafes and restaurants.

Ooo . . . look . . . a blurry picture of me with a cat

Ooo . . . look . . . a blurry picture of me with a cat

But back to the Italian.  Our tutor emphasized that you must pause between double consonants.  This means “oggi” (today) is really og-gi.  She noted that lack of the pause will change the meaning of a word.  It reminds me of SNL’s Nuni and Noonie sketches.

James also discovered this during his class.  During an interview your neighbor and share exercise, James told the group that his partner has 36 anni (years).  The teacher immediately stopped him to explain anni.  I’m having trouble picturing how this was done in Italian, but she said “it’s not good” and there was some hand gesturing.  Turns out, anni is the plural of anus.  If you want years, you really need to say ahn-nee.

I cracked up pretty hard.  And then I thought, “Holy tootknockers, do you know the number of people that I’ve told that my son has two anuses???”

 

Where to next?

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Some time this past summer, James and I (and Mac) ate lunch at Old Ebbitt.  We were running errands and managed to duck in right before a torrential summer thunderstorm.  I was more than happy to sit and eat my fill of oysters.  Since getting to Europe feels like half the battle, we used that meal to brainstorm on our  travel wishlist.  You can see it over on the new I want to go to there page.  I’m sure the Italy list will grow quite a bit as we talk to more people and read more Rick Steves.

We have a pretty good idea on what we aren’t trying to see.  Granted, we wouldn’t turn down trips, but these things feel pretty well covered.  We spent 8 days in Paris at the end of 2010.  We did Normandy then too.  I’d take the kids there to see the beaches if they were going to be a little older.  And eat oysters, of course.  We’ve done London and Edinburgh.  We’ve been to Prague.  We’ve done Florence and Venice.  As much as I love the idea of seeing Henry chasing the pigeons in St. Mark’s Square, I love the idea of not having to be on canal watch 24-7 more.

It’s an ambitious list.  To make a dent, we’d have to be planning a major trip at least every quarter.  Now that we are planning our first big trip–looking at the Christmas Markets in Munich and Nuremberg this December–I’m feeling completely overwhelmed.  I can barely move my children around this city.  How will I move them among, around, and between more cities?

To break down the parts: we would need transportation to the airport, a flight, transportation to location, train to a second city, and then everything in reverse.  I know this can be doable.  I swear we traveled when it was just Henry.  Right now two just feels overwhelming.  I really should borrow someone else’s child for a bit.  After three, I’m sure two would seem fine.

So where to go when?  Once our car situation is straightened out, I’m hoping to start knocking out close towns in Italy.  The Shroud of Turin is only on display next April to June.  The Palio only happens in July and August.  Scandinavia would probably be a summer thing.  I’m thinking of running the marathon in Berlin, which would be next September.  I spent Easter in Luxembourg with a friend once where I realized you could hike the whole country.  I guess we should do that stat when we can carry the kids or at the end when they can walk more?

Either way, we need to get to scheduling and get to traveling.  The Island of Elba has already been recommended to us.  What else are we missing?