First full day in Venezia.  It was refreshing to wake up to a proper breakfast buffet.  (although coffee on the villa patio was tough to beat).  But the Principe did deliver.  And no moody warnings about refraining from taking in “overabundance”!  We were up, presentable, and down to breakfast by 9:00.  Our plans for the first full day in Venice were loose at best – we knew wanted to see St. Mark’s Square, but that was it.  Which provided for a wonderful day of meandering in the Queen of the Adriatic.

We walked back down to the train station and bought “water bus” tickets to cover the couple of days we would be there.  Caught our first bus the LONG way around the city, past the gigantic cruise ships, to the Piazza San Marco.  It was beautiful but PACKED with people.  And we confessed it was pretty sad that when we first pulled up, our collective first thought was, “look, that’s the same as the Italian tower at Epcot!”  Sigh….

Ellis and Georgia DESPERATELY wanted to feed the pigeons, filthy things (the pigeons, not E & G…).  The Italians, it turns out, despise the tourists doing this;  I supposed it cheapens the Piazza.  But we are TOURISTS, so we bought a package of butter biscuits and Ellis, Georgia, and LouAnn became pigeon perches while Jack  (“I don’t want those NASTY pigeons all over ME!”) and I walked around and made up our own West-Side-Story drama that involved Piazza-roving gangs of pigeons and seagulls.  For some reason we gave all the pigeons New Jersey accents.  The leader of the seagull gang was named Sonny.  There were occasional rumbles over butter biscuits, interspersed with urban dance numbers.

From there, we wound our way through the city, with no planned itinerary or route.  It was wonderful.  You can’t get lost in Venice.  If you run into water with no bridge nearby, turn and keep walking.  We had a delicious lunch at – guess! – a sidewalk cafe.  Our lack of an agenda-to-keep allowed us to stumble on to things.  We found an old church with an exhibition of antique musical instruments.  I nonchalantly led the kids to the church whose outside was used as the library in “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade”, and lo and behold it was housing a Leonardo da Vinci exhibition; wonderful hands-on working models of many of his inventions.  What a body of work THAT guy produced.  Use ball bearings lately?  Or pulleys?  Or a bicycle?  Or a rotating bombarding cannon?  Or human-powered flying wings?  Thank Leo.  We also happened upon a beautiful courtyard with trees, a terrace, and a quiet cafe;  LouAnn and I sat and had a drink in the shade while the kids improvised a game of wall-ball with Georgia’s ever-present pink racquetball.

Our friend Lou Campbell had asked us to stop in at a Venetian mask shop called Ca’ Macama and say hello to an old friend of his.  Mid-afternoon, we suddenly found ourselves gazing in its windows.  Incredible!  Unfortunately, Lou’s friend was out of the country, but we had fun speaking with the woman there about their mask craft and we even left with a few souvenirs.

By then it was late afternoon, and for Father’s Day, LouAnn and the kids insisted I return to a small shop we’d seen the day before called “KissFish”.  It was here that I (plus G & E) had my first-ever – and last-ever – FISH PEDICURE.  For you uncultured masses, a FISH PEDICURE is a posh treatment whereby you dip your feet into a tank of tiny Turkish carp and they spend ten minutes chomping on you.  The feeling is hard to put in words…it feels…..LIKE DOZENS OF TINY FISH CHEWING ON YOUR FEET.  Surely I’m not the ONLY dad out there to receive a fish pedicure for Father’s Day; let me hear from you!

After a short rest in our air-conditioned rooms, we stepped 10 feet outside our hotel’s entrance to the café across the street and had a delightful meal at Gino’s Pasta & Pizza.  Highlights included:  the best and friendliest waiter we had in Italy, the kids’ first tastes of Limoncello, and the rescuing of a tiny cooked squid from my seafood risotto that LouAnn decided was too cute to eat – we promptly named him “Gino”.

I couldn’t have scripted a better Father’s Day….

Ellis arriving in our room as Peter Pan.

These old guys were WORKIN’ that boat.

Waiting for the water bus.

ON the water bus.

Piazza San Marco

The frenzy begins.

Doesn’t she look thrilled to be feeding one of God’s creatures?  She looks thrilled to me.

Ellis, the master.

You can almost HEAR the idea forming before it happens.

This is me explaining to the kids what a PAY PHONE is.  They were incredulous.

Her namesake!

Ball bearings da Vinci!

Leonardo’s bicycle!

We bought Ellis a book of da Vinci’s inventions, reproduced from his drawings in modern detail.

Georgia leading the way.

At the amazing Ca’ Macama….

….learning how the masks are made.

Jack’s fine choice.

We found a cafe and let the kids play “wall-ball” for a while.

The game in action.  From observation, I loosely surmised the rules to be as follows:  Player 1 throws the racquetball hard against a wall (of someone’s HOUSE, mind you).  Player 2 must catch the ball off the bounce.  If Player 2 fails to catch it, he/she must run and touch the wall before Player 1 retrieves the fugitive ball and beans the wall with it.  Although this often results in the flailing Player 2 getting pegged in the back by the ball he/she is trying to outpace to the wall. This beaning affects Player 2’s success, but also leaves a distinct bruise.  Player 1 beams with pride either way.  Player 3 – little sister – occasionally gets a turn and actually turns out to be the fastest of the three.  The game ends when the check comes for dad’s beer and mom is ready to move on.

Contemplating the “fish pedicure”…

Still not convinced.

Georgia’s ready!

Just another day at the spa for Ellis.

I finally succumb….

 

Georgia’s foot buffet.

Dinner at the wonderful Gino’s!

Georgia, SICK of Italian food:  Chicken wings and fries!

Gino!

Our fantastic waiter.

This is Georgia trying Limoncello for the first time.  Her assessment: “it tastes like hand sanitizer!”

Limoncello – n. – an Italian lemon liqueur mainly produced in Southern Italy, especially in the region around the Gulf of Naples, the Sorrentine Peninsula and the coast of Amalfi and islands of Procida, Ischia and Capri.  Tastes like lemon hand sanitizer.

Spiderman-climbing the alley walls.

Happy Father’s Day!

It only took 2 ½ hours to get all 5 of us packed up, and every tiny toy and accessory accounted for.  We crammed down the best of the remaining food – an odd breakfast of all the leftovers.  Our commitment to the Italian’s meticulous trash sorting rules pretty much went out the window.  (We’ve been grudgingly sorting paper, plastic, glass, and organic trash into their respective containers all week.)   We took final pictures of the flowers and villa – if only we could capture the smell! – and stuffed the van once again.   Headed back to Florence, dropped LA and the kids and bags at the train station (to avoid the march of the Beverly Hillbillies through the romantic streets of Florence)  and returned the van al dente.  The ill-fated guardrails had been replaced with barber shop striped poles.   Luckily, they were never mentioned as I turned in the van and made my getaway.

Our two-hour train ride to Venice was uneventful except for the handle ripping off of Georgia’s suitcase as I tried to lift the 300 lb. sausage over my head to be stored.  Thanks a LOT, Tuesday Morning!  She was NOT happy I broke her bag.

Ahhhh Venice!  It is beautiful!  And contrary to what we’d been told, it doesn’t stink at all.   Our hotel, Hotel Principe, is just a 200-meter walk from the train station, and it is beautiful, right on the Grand Canal!   Murano glass chandeliers hanging everywhere.   This time our rooms were side by side and looked out onto the busy pedestrian street below.  So nice to be back in the air-conditioning – we cranked them down immediately.

We rested a bit and unpacked, then hit the streets.  It was raining softly so we actually TOOK our raincoats along (except for mine, which was missing – to be found later buried in someone else’s suitcase.)  (( which reminds me:  the more we move, the less dedicated to a particular person each suitcase becomes.  “Ellis, I think these are YOUR Spiderman boxer-briefs.”))

For all the water, Venice is a remarkable WALKING city.  No cars, bikes, or mopeds, very few pesky street vendors, wonderful hidden alleyways, and beautiful bridges over the canals.  We LOVED just walking around the city.  Especially Georgia – it’s her favorite so far.  We wandered.  Nowhere to be, particularly.  Jack wore the Italia soccer – excuse me, FOOTBALL – jersey he’d bought in Florence; it was the night of their first World Cup match against England.  We found a wonderful sidewalk café (theme of the trip, so far) where we could still sit out of the rain and had a great meal.  We played “Categories” and laughed and laughed.  The rain was cool and refreshing.  After dinner we meandered back to the Hotel Principe, stopping for gelato along the way.  It’s amazing that people actually LIVE in Venice.  What do they DO for a living?  Where do they buy toilet paper?

We had good intentions of staying up to watch the midnight-starting Italy-England match, but sleepiness and poor cable reception (dang those Italians and they’re 90’s technology once AGAIN) converged against us, and we were all asleep by 12:30.  We drifted off imagining all the bars around town, stuffed to the gills with Italians and occasionally erupting with ecstasy or agony.

A few last pics of some of the beautiful flowers around the villa.

Our little living room.  And dining room.  and kitchen.

Saying goodbye to our German neighbors; I gave them a bottle of Fattoria Maioinchi wine to say “danke” for putting up with our loud swimming.

Loading the Van al Dente!

Yep – what’s left of the “guardrail”.

Camped out in Firenze station awaiting our train to Venice.

Italian Pringles for the World Cup!

View from our hotel window in Venice.

Ok Jack hasn’t grown THAT much.  He’s cheating.

Ready to watch the Italy match!

 

Great place for dinner, safe from the rain.

 

 

We committed our last full day in Tuscany to lazing around the villa.  Sleeping in, swimming, reading….  it was perfect.  Except for a giant load of laundry that got in our way by needing to be done.  But we didn’t let it ruin our day.  Everything was in full display to bless our final day – the glorious Tuscan sun, the hydrangeas, jasmine, roses, wisteria, plumbago….  and we loved every minute of it.  We laughed with our German neighbors and got scolded by a cross, 60-something British woman who mysteriously appeared at our pool – sunbathing topless and ensuring years of therapy for our kids later in life.  Our final Tuscan poolside lunch?  Quarter Pounder Deluxes and Fries from McDonald’s drive-thru.

Late in the afternoon, we got cleaned up and drove 25 minutes to the beautiful town of Lucca to meet up with Sarah Daniel – yes, THAT Sarah Daniel – for dinner and a concert by the Fort Worth Youth Orchestra.  They are on a short European tour and had a fortuitous stop in Lucca, featuring one Atlee Daniel on viola!  Jerry was one of the parent chaperones for the trip, so he didn’t get to join us for dinner, but we sat with them for the concert in a BEAUTIFUL old church in Lucca.  The acoustics were wonderful and the orchestra played beautifully – Puccini, Dvorak, Bizet, and even a rousing rendition of “Deep In The Heart Of Texas”!  It was a perfect ending to the week.

Sarah and LouAnn walking in Lucca.

Fort Worth Youth Orchestra – the played brilliantly!

The kids with Atlee.

Like every morning, not up-and-at-‘em as early as we wanted… felt so good to sleep in.   Headed to Florence again for Day 2.   After parking in our Garage of Shame, we walked to a local market for some picnic supplies, then made our way to Boboli Gardens, again (remember, we showed up after closing time yesterday), for a fun lunch.  It was a blisteringly hot walk up to the perfect picnic spot, and we were all thankful to gather in the shade.   The Boboli Gardens belonged to the Medici family during the Renaissance, and were only available and open to the Royal family.   They are HUGE!  They are built up on a hill overlooking Florence – this had never been done before.   There was no water supply up that high, so they had to build an elaborate system to pipe water up from the Arno River.  Gorgeous statues, fountains, mazey walks through manicured hedges and beautiful overlooks.   We played a mean game of “Boboli Ball” with our best purchase on the trip so far:  in Rome we bought a very brightly striped, cheap play ball.   He has become our “Wilson” – our constant companion.   He has provided hours of entertainment for us all.

For the first time in 10 days, a breeze began to blow.  The sky darkened, thunder began to roll, and……rain!!!   Isolated, but rain!   Standing at the high point in the gardens we could see the isolated pockets of rain moving across Florence.  Very cool!  It held off long enough for us to finish our time in the gardens and begin our trek across town to the Galleria dell’Accademia for our timed entrance to see the David.  Soon, it really started coming down and we were caught in a proper downpour – our new raincoats safely tucked away in our suitcases in the villa.   Where did all these umbrella salesmen come from and where did all the toy peddlers go??  By the time we got to the museum, we had fended off 172 umbrella salesmen and were totally drenched.   Luckily, we had bought tickets ahead of time and didn’t have to wait in the 1 ½ hr. line to get in.

So much to see!   First stop: the instrument museum with pianos and harpsichords dating from the 1500’s,  Stradivarius violins, cellos and violas from the early 1600’s, flutes and crazy serpent horns made out of wood and leather.   Wow.

On to David.  Michelangelo was only 26 years old when he began in 1501, and it took him two years to complete.  The kids were appropriately struck by the lifelike detail of his muscles, the veins in his arms and hands.  We stood in awe and wondered about the tools Michelangelo used and what life was like for him while he worked on it.

We also enjoyed the rest of the Galleria dell’Accademia.  Wonderful paintings and an amazing 14^th century, 12-foot long altar cloth, embroidered with gold and silk thread, depicting all the apostles and Mary at Pentecost.  It was stunning.  SOLID embroidery.  Ellis LOVED it – he really did.

The rain had passed by the time we spilled back out onto the street, and we were craving Yellow Bar.  But the Italians don’t let you eat dinner before 6:30!  So we sat on some church steps and people-watched until the appointed opening hour for the restaurants.  After the Yellow Bar, MORE GELATO, of course.  The villa was calling, but we had to drag LouAnn kicking and screaming back to the car; she didn’t want to leave any Florentine streets unexplored.  Late night, but full day.

Entering the Boboli Gardens.

Picnic in the shade!  Baguette, salami, cheese, cherries, peaches, chips.  And wait – that looks like a banana.

A glimpse of Wilson!  Except he needs an Italian name.  “Giorgio”, perhaps.

Me, with Florentine inspiration, trying to sketch.  It lasted 5 minutes; I’m a HORRIBLE artist.

Georgia fared much better.

Raining down in Florence!  View from the gardens.

Time to race to the Galleria dell’Accademia!

Florence downpour!

We ended up in a line, but at least it was the short, “already have a reservation” line.

Serpenthorn!?

A truly “upright” piano.

Stradivarius!

Somehow the Rolling Stones t-shirt just makes it more special, doesn’t it?

Uncanny, isn’t it?

 

Ellis loved all the medieval panels.

The embroidered altar-piece.

 

The detail was STUNNING.

St. Peter in a pink Snuggie!

GT found this gem in the museum gift shop.

If I get my readers on, you KNOW I’m serious about some educatin’.

Jack ready to represent for the World Cup match vs. England!

Time to head back to the Garage of Shame – another great day.

Up early today!  Well, at least I was up early, and actually swam laps in the pool!  We roused as a group and left about 10ish to head to Florence for the day.  Another beautiful one – bright and sunny.  We navigated successfully into the city and parked sheepishly in the Avis/Budget parking garage, where I had mangled a guardrail just days earlier.  The guardrail in question had been removed – no evidence!!!  We strolled through the Florence streets, making our way to the Cathedral.  But it was lunchtime, and we stopped at the “Yellow Bar” for lunch.  Delicious!  Best pizza I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a LOT of pizza.  Fun to just sit and have lunch and not be in a hurry; come to think of it,  you’d better NOT be in a hurry when having a meal in Italy.  We collectively gasped as we stepped out of a side street and into full view of the cathedral, with its impressive bell tower and duomo.  The outside is ornate and brightly colored.  I was placed to wait in line to get in the cathedral – in the sun – while LouAnn and the kids went shopping.  But surprise!  The line moved quickly, and, despite all my best whistling and texting, I ended up entering the cathedral alone.  The guards inside were stopping any women in short-shorts or tank tops – they had to be covered!  And LouAnn was wearing BOTH!  This was going to be fun.  I waited there, and finally they filed in.  Sure enough, she was stopped!  She had to pay 1.50 euro for a “modesty poncho”!

The inside of the cathedral is fairly plain, but for the paintings along the inside of the duomo.  We walked around inside while LouAnn figured out ways to possibly belt her disposable modesty poncho to make it look cuter.  To no avail.  (her commercial idea:  print thousands of disposable ponchos with “I came all the way to Florence, Italy to see the Duomo and all I got was this stupid poncho!” and sell them for 10 euros each.)  Next we went outside to get in line to climb to the top of the duomo.  We were nearly to the front of the line after waiting for 20 minutes when I realized we actually needed TICKETS, which, of course, you had to purchase somewhere else.  Naturally, I was chosen to RUN to the bell-tower ticket office to buy the tickets and get back before the family made it to the front of the line.  It is 463 steep, stone, claustrophobic steps to the top, but definitely worth the trip!  LouAnn and Georgia counted every step.  The view from the top cupola was WONDERFUL.  The climb back down was slow and a two-way street.  In some places the stairs were just as wide as your body, and you had to bend over to keep from hitting your head.

The peddlers in Florence – really every Italian city – are relentless.  The most common tactic we encountered again and again were men from Africa who would come up and talk with you.  Then, they would give you “gifts”, typically beaded bracelets they would slip on your wrist.  Then some other knick-knack would be pressed into your hand and you’d be asked for money.  SO tiring.  We ended up just being “rudely polite”.  The social graces we adhere to at home just don’t stop the flood here.

Afterwards, we walked south to the Arno River and Ponte Vecchio.  We crossed the river intending to see the Boboli gardens, but alas, they were closed (much to the exhausted kids’ delight…)  We stumbled back to the car and beat a path back to Fattoria Maioinchi.  The kids swam, and I made leftover surprise, Italian style!

Ah, the Yellow Bar……

Georgia eating her “hamburger” at the Yellow Bar.  She swears it was the best hamburger she’s ever had.

Me eating the pizza at the Yellow Bar.  I swear it was the best pizza I’ve ever had.

The impressive Cathedral in Florence.

Sweet modesty poncho, Loubie!

Inside the duomo.  Incredible perspective and detail.

Waiting in line to climb to the top of the duomo.

Me using the wait-time as a great educational moment.  The kids were thrilled.  GT’s probably watching a pigeon.

Climbing!

Claustrophobics need not apply.

And after 463 steep steps to the top, the view from the cupola!

Someone’s gone through Florence and overlaid fun stickers on all the “Wrong Way” signs…..

Another

“And those women were sobbin’, sobbin’, sobbin’….”  Who’s with me?

Dude painting Vermeer’s “Girl With a Pearl Earring” on the STREET.  He was amazing.  I have since become obsessed with this painting.

Post-swim dinner in the villa!  Too hot to wear clothes at dinner!  You should’ve seen ME!  We spared you that picture.

The hydrangeas from our garden.

We slept in a bit this morning, and the kids swam.  The weather is PERFECT here in the morning.  I mean, it’s wonderful all day, but it’s ESPECIALLY wonderful in the morning.  The light is just somehow different.  We had decided on a quick trip to Pisa and back, so we could spend the better part of the afternoon at the villa.  The sights and cities around here are so beautiful, but a week spent staying at the villa would be just about perfect all on its own.  But we forced ourselves to Pisa to see the cathedral and leaning tower, and took our obligatory “holding up the falling tower” photos, alongside the the 3,000 other people stretching and straining to take this fabled picture at just the right angle.  Jack and I decided we would repeat this effect at famous sights all over Europe, even though none of the others will need propping up.  (though neither did the tower in Pisa – the Pisans (Pisans?) completed its restoration and permanent support in 1999; it’s not going ANYWHERE)

It’s almost a shame the poorly-built tower steals all the attention, because the cathedral and baptistery in Pisa are quite beautiful.  Before our rush back to the villa to capture the rest of the afternoon in paradise, we stopped for lunch at a sidewalk café…..and had the absolute worst meal of the trip.  Blech.  Lesson learned:  when the menu is simply laminated pages of the dish-photos, keep moving.  By late afternoon we had arrived back home.  We swam, read, swatted incessant mosquitos, and I made dinner again.  The kids were craving Mexican food, so I made tacos!  Ask and ye shall receive…

The heat here can smother you like a wet electric blanket set on medium-high.  And there’s very little breeze to cool you off.  But the pool felt GREAT.  We went back and forth on keeping windows open because the mosquitos were so bad.  And that’s all the voice I’ll give to the heat and mosquitos, because to complain about those while you’re spending a week in a VILLA AT A VINEYARD IN TUSCANY is just asking for it; we might as well buy t-shirts that simply say “INGRATO” on them.

Flooding in with the other tourists…

We liked taking pictures of the OTHERS taking pictures….

Georgia obliges!

Jack’s a good sport!

Ellis is in on the fun!

Ummm…….

 

 

Texas-sized glasses with ice!  And it was the highlight of the meal!

We raced back home and to the pool.

 

 

Ahhh- Monday.  One week ago we were boarding the plane for Europe!

Today we decided to head to Cinque Terre – a group of five communities on the coast.   Thanks to our friends Jerry & Sarah Daniel, we knew to catch the train in Levanto and take it to all of the cities, a neat and fast way to see them all.   We started in Riomaggiano, the southern-most city.   We stepped off the train, walked through the tunnel and emerged in the most beautiful place!   Colorful buildings stacked and built into the side of the hills, right by the sea!  A short jaunt around the rocky point, and we found the perfect seaside lagoon.   Rocky beach, crystal-clear, cool water.   And, luckily, no “European bathers”!  After we rigged makeshift changing cabanas and convinced them that NO ONE was interested in seeing them slipping into their suits, the kids wasted no time getting into the sea.   This was WAY better than the pool!   But trying to walk on the slippery, shifting rocks made everyone look like staggering drunks.  There was NO way to look cool striding into the water.  We rented snorkeling equipment and began exploring the undersea world.   This, we found out, was a protected marine sanctuary with many species of fish to wave hello to.   Before we knew it, we had been there 4 ½ hours!

Gelato to cool off, of course, then we walked (well, hiked, actually) around the town before we got back on the train to the next stop.   We got off in Manarola and it was another idyllic town perched on the cliffs and hanging over the sea.  The kids were starving, so we found a seaside café and sat down to…. hot dogs and hamburgers.  (The kids were a bit sick of Italian food.)  Afterwards, the kids were desperate to swim again, so we let them walk down to the small lagoon below Manarola.  The water was deep and clear and perfect.  The cliffs surrounding the lagoon were tall, craggy, and inviting.  Soon we had three kids begging to cliff-dive.  We were on vacation, so why not?  Plus, Gramma wasn’t around.  So they took turns jumping off the 20-foot cliff, and even drew a bit of a crowd of tourists to watch them.  I didn’t know whether to proudly claim them or disavow any knowledge of whose kids those were.  The sun was setting, and we had more towns to visit.  Back to the train station, where we just missed the next train.  So we sat on a bench on the train platform and watched the sun set over “Pig-Face Rock”.  And wondered aloud why certain seagulls pant.

We decided to bypass Corniglia and Vernazza (whose picture adorns the top of this blog), and made our last stop at Monterossa Al Mare.  One of this town’s beautiful beaches was right next to the train station, which made for a convenient final romp in the sea as the sky darkened.  We decided to call it a day and arrived back at the van-al-dente at about 10pm.  The kids, still in their suits, were all CLAMORING for us to let them swim when we got home; but as we predicted, they were each asleep before we hit the autostrade.  When we got home, we parked in our spot in the olive orchard and started our climb up to the villa; but quickly realized we lacked Ellis.  There he was, dead asleep in the back row of seats…with NO CLOTHES ON.  Me:  “Ellis, you’re naked as a jaybird!  What happened to your PANTS?  You can’t get on the plane like that!”  Ah, Dad’s cruel way of getting E up and moving.  His eyes wide, he stumbled out of the van, a towel somewhat draped around his Greek form….

Italy’s not exactly laid out on a grid; this is a screen shot of navigating our highway exit to Levanto.

It was a good day….

Riomaggiore

Our cliff-walk down to the rocky beach at Riomaggiore.

Georgia was the first in the water.

But soon all of us stumbled in..(except the photographer)

Ellis snorkeling.

Mom got in!

Walking in Riomaggiore

Manarola, next town northward up the coast.

 

Hot dogs and hamburgers!

The small lagoon in Manarola – the kids couldn’t resist.

Climbing to the cliff…..

Contemplating the cliff…….

Still contemplating……

Ellis was first!

Long way down…..

Brave Georgia!

And finally Jack!

 

 

 

Me watching from above.  “Jump off a cliff in a foreign country, kids? Sure, have fun!”

 

Waiting for the train to the next town.

And waiting…..

 

Pig Rock.  Obviously.

 

View of Corniglia from Monterossa al Mare

 

Monterossa al Mare beachfront, in both directions

Holding onto the last shreds of sunlight; playing catch with our “Wilson”

The Godfather.

 

 

The Lord’s Day – a day of rest! Our first week in Europe never found us in bed before midnight, and it finally caught up with us.   And the timing was perfect – a beautiful, sunny day at our Tuscan villa with NOTHING planned.

After sleeping in, we wasted no time getting back into the pool. The kids were in heaven getting to swim.  They’d be happy if we did this for the entire week.   The pool is in the courtyard of our villa, and is cold and refreshing.  It’s a struggle to keep the kids at a quieter tone so as not to bother the neighbors too much, but hey, they’re KIDS IN A POOL!    Hunger finally got the best of us, so we headed out in search of a market to stock up on more groceries.  Well, guess what!?  Everything’s CLOSED on Sundays.   Just as the kids were starting to panic, we happened upon two OPEN stores: one being a cross between a Chinese Wal-Mart and a dollar store, and a small, but well-stocked grocery store!  Success!!

It was soooo nice to just relax and spend quality time with the kids.  We really haven’t been able to in the last several months.  Evening found us eating another great home-cooked meal by Chef Paul,  playing more cards, watching fireflies and night swimming.   Ahhhh….

The weather was perfect.  AGAIN.

Woohoo!!!!

Italian glamour shot.

Jack looks older every day…..

…but is still a kid!

Our Chinese/Italian WalMart/DollarGeneral!  Open on Sunday!

 

And an open grocery store across the street!

Excited to find food!

I made dinner!

The perfect dinner setting.

And the dinner was not too shabby!

Jack’s artistic shot…..

 

Saturday 6/7 – Moving Day!  We said goodbye to Rome and boarded our train to Florence.  We’re all glad we won’t be moving every few days, as lugging these suitcases on and off trains and down cobblestone streets is a BEATING.  But this transfer was relatively easy – 5 minute walk to the subway, three stops to the Tiburtina station, then a beautiful 90-minute train ride into Tuscany.  But the subway ride was not without drama:  As we boarded at the station near our hotel, Jack left his backpack sitting on the station bench.  LouAnn noticed just in time to leap off the train, grab said backpack, and race back through the closing train door.  She had to SWING the backpack in between the slamming doors to stop them.  Heroic save by Mom!  In Florence, the Budget rental car office was another 10-minute walk, and we stopped for lunch along the way.  Still haven’t seen a cloud since we’ve been here.

The sweet multi-color-haired lady at the car counter asked if I might not prefer something a bit smaller than the Mercedes van we had reserved.  “Driving in Florence in a van….”  But we’re AMERICANS, and we like to spread out, so we stuck with the van.  I also decided at the last minute to purchase all the extra coverage….just in case.  We loaded everything in, with room to SPARE, I backed out of the garage stall, turned to make the last corner out of the garage, and….BAM!  I somehow managed to wreck the rental car BEFORE WE’D EVEN LEFT THE GARAGE.  Hooray for full coverage!  We exited the garage without stopping to check the guardrail I had demolished, while the Budget employees shook their heads and made a writing motion on one palm, which I’m pretty sure is Italian sign-language for, “be sure to record the damage to your pristine van, por favore….” After a bit of abuse from the passenger seat, we wound our way through the tiny streets of Florence, out onto the motorway, and threaded up into the Tuscany Hills, finally arriving at Fattoria Maioinchi.  The scenes that unfolded before us as we navigated the tiny country roads were straight out of a Helena Bonham Carter movie.

The villa is perfect.  We’re in an old building whose ground floor has been converted to three apartments; two young couples from Germany are occupying the other two for the week.  We have a small yard and a POOL!  And we’re high on a hill, so the view extends for miles – vineyards, olive trees, ancient houses.  The garden is thick with hydrangea, fig trees, and jasmine, the last of which perfumes the air perfectly.  It is unbelievably idyllic.

We unpacked and settled in as the kids jumped in the pool.  Then we loaded up in the dented van and found a nearby market for a few essentials.  LouAnn cooked an incredible meal that night, and we finished out the evening with a game of Scrabble Slam as we watched the sun set over the Tuscan countryside.

 

Goodbye, Hotel Andreotti!

 

All the subway trains in Rome were adorned with elaborate graffiti.  Jack and I thought that was really cool.

 

Rome Tiburtina train station

 

Georgia enjoying the Italian countryside…

 

 

Paul enjoying the Italian countryside….

Ellis inspired by the first sign he sees in Florence!

Again!  The kids LOVE this part…..

LouAnn’s lunchtime mockery of Ellis’s need for a haircut.  24 hours later he was freshly-shorn.

First lunch in Florence

Holy Calzoni!

MY pizza, after LouAnn spilled an entire glass of water on it…

The family van, with Georgia pointing out the barely-noticeable damage.

View from the main house of Fattoria Maioinchi, the vineyard where we’re staying.

The main house

Front door of our apartment.   Excuse me, our VILLA.

Our garden table overlooking all of Tuscany, it seems…

 

 

LouAnn’s amazing dinner our first night!

 

Only one day left in Rome and so much left to see!  We were able to secure a private tour guide to the Vatican, but the tour wasn’t until later in the afternoon.   Since we had the morning to kill, and it had been HOURS since we’d seen any ruins, LouAnn dragged us to the Baths of Caracalla.  The scale of this ancient Roman bath house was stunning…. the most amazing spa I’ve ever imagined.   Just to give you an idea, the underground furnaces used to heat the pools burned through 10 tons of wood a day!  They also had room underground to store a 6-month supply of wood.   That’s 3.6 million pounds!  The baths had been incredibly immaculate – with many intricate mosaics still existing.

 

Part of the incredible mosaic floors in the baths.

Time for the Vatican tour, with FABIO.  Ah, Fabio, our tall, slender, tanned, handsome, 80-YEAR-OLD tour guide, who had been giving tours for 40 years.   Every tour guide we passed greeted him with hugs and told us that he had trained them all, that he was “the best in Rome.”  He may have been the best, but he wasn’t the FASTEST.  We quickly realized our 2 hr. tour would turn into four (ended up being 4 ½.)  He couldn’t hear very well either.  As we were discussing the Sistine Chapel’s Last Judgment fresco, I tried to sound insightful by commenting that Michelangelo’s exaggerated figures looked almost grotesque.  Fabio simply nodded and said, “…Yes, very sarcastic.”

He tended to dwell on the things that he thought were significant or interesting and brushed off everything else.  For instance, when in St. Peter’s Basilica, LouAnn had to ask who the corpse in the glass coffin was?   He made a face and said, dismissively, “Oh, that’s Pope Such-and-Such… He’s buried with a silver mask on his face.  I don’t like it!  No man should be buried with a mask hiding his face!  Pffftt!”   O-k-a-y then, moving on.   We did learn a lot about the differences between Greek and Roman sculpture.  At the highest level, the Romans tended to show things at their very best.   Their sculpture was more like portraiture.  The Greeks were more realistic – theirs were more like snapshots of real life – the good, the bad – it had movement and meaning.

The Sistine Chapel was fascinating.  What Michelangelo accomplished was staggering.  Fabio made an interesting point that Michelangelo’s paintings were essentially done just like his sculptures; he did such an amazing job showing the human form.  They look almost 3-D.  During his time, NO ONE even came close to replicating his mastery of painting muscles, features, contours, shading.

He was in his 30’s when he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and his figures were softer and innocent.   When he painted “The Final Judgment”, he was in his 60’s and his attitude had changed.  He was more cynical – his innocence was lost – therefore his figures were more grotesque (not sarcastic!) in their form and features – more hardened.   At that age, he had seen more of the sin that was in the world and in himself, and it was reflected in his painting.    Actually being in the Sistine Chapel was surreal.  Really crowded, darker than expected, and relatively quiet… except for the guard with the bullhorn telling everyone, “Silencio!”  (At this, Fabio rolled his eyes and kept whispering to us.)  While it was incredible, it was almost TOO much; almost gaudy.  Every square inch of the chapel was painted.  But learning so much about the paintings before we went in made it much more meaningful as we stood and gazed upon this masterpiece.

Fabio then took us over to St. Peter’s, which we didn’t think we’d see, as it had been closed that morning.  (Did I mention that he skipped right past the 2-hour lines everywhere he took us?)   As we entered, two rays of light were shining down into the central nave.  Beautiful!  We saw incredible paintings, mosaics, and sculptures, including Michelangelo’s “La Pieta.”  Fabio pointed out that the enormous 15 ft. paintings were actually mosaics!   You would never know unless you looked at it a certain way, with the light reflecting on it.   Mind-blowing detail!

As we meandered through the church, loud bells began ringing, calling for afternoon mass.   At this, Fabio hurried us toward the exit, not wanting to be caught up in it.   “What time is mass? “ I asked.  “5:00,” he replied and looked at his watch.  It was only 4:45.   Wait!  Where’s Ellis!?   We looked back through the crowd to see Ellis standing in the corner, his hands grasping the rope that was attached to the bell that calls everyone to mass.   Deep breaths….

We finished our tour and had dinner & ice cream with Fabio at a nearby restaurant.   By the time we got back to our hotel, we realized we’d been walking for 12+ hours.  No wonder our feet were tired!

Fabio, talking about the Sistine Chapel before we went in.

Michelangelo was said to have modeled his “David” after this bust.  It was enormous – 15-20 feet tall.

 

Pope John Palm Frond III

“Laocoon and His Sons”, outside the Vatican Museum.  A very famous Greek sculpture that’s a brilliant example of the life and ACTION that Greek sculptors created.  Here, Laocoon – a Trojan priest of Poseidon – and his two sons are being attacked by sea serpents.

 

Depiction of “The Last Judgment” on a sign outside the Sistine Chapel.  No photos allowed inside!  And no TALKING, por favore!

 

Brilliant late-afternoon sunlight in St. Peter’s Basilica

 

Michelangelo’s “La Pieta”

 

 

 

These are the same mosaic; the second one shows the detailed tiles.

Pope Silver-Mask!  Fabio does not approve!

Swiss Guard – personal bodyguards to the Pope.

 

The fabulous Fabio!