Cross Country Skiiing - One Time and One Time Only

My new profile picture says it all. I don't think we need to discuss the issue further...except I would like to note that the background of that picture is a hill. I thought cross-country skiing was across FLAT land. I will post the same picture at the bottom of this post since I don't intend for that to be my profile picture forever.

So moving right along past Day Three, on our final day in Chamonix, our group once again split up. The guys decided against another ski day and instead did the trip up to Aiguille du Midi. K. spent the day exploring town further and resting, and I took a cable car trip up the other side of the valley, using the Brevent lift. I found this to be far, far more terrifying than the Aiguille du Midi trip. That cable car was large and packed with people. Even though we could see just how high up we were, the snow beneath the car gave the illusion of a soft landing, and with all those bodies around, again, an illusion of safety...I might be able to bounce off of one them in the event of a disaster. Not so on the Brevent lift. It's a small, gondola type car which I had all to myself as we went up, up, up over a clear-cut path littered with spiky, tree stumps. There was just no place for my mind to go for reassurance of possible survival. I was quite breathless upon arrival at the top, especially as a paraglider went flying by at close range.

The day was sunny and incredibly warm at the top of the mountain. I roasted in a ski jacket and fleece pants, and the lounge chairs set up for folks to sit and sunbathe at the edge of the mountain made perfect sense. I was also intrigued by the number of people up at the top of the mountain walking their dog around the ski area. These were not patrol dogs, just regular people who apparently put their dog on the gondola and took him/her up for a little jaunt in the snow. But then, dogs were everywhere in Chamonix, even in nice restaurants and bars. France is clearly the place for me and Crazy Dog, but Crazy would have to learn some manners, like the French dogs have. Several of them even carried their own leashes! Meanwhile, back in Naples, our nutso ran away from his BFF's house when a maintenance man left the gate open. He apparently galloped about in a mud field somewhere, or perhaps just the gutters with all the other Neapolitan strays, until our friend's landlord found him and drug him home, with mud covering him up to his stomach. Scully once again earned his nickname, even though at this very moment, he is lying peacefully in his dog bed, looking so innocent and cute. He had a hard morning patrolling our grounds to keep them safe from Sinbad, the one-eyed cat, who cleverly taunts Scully from atop our fence.

But back to the Brevent ski area...following a little wander around, I braved another cable car - this one stretched between two mountain peaks and is a pretty, red box that slowly moves horizontally and slightly up while dangling over absolutely nothing at all. At the top was yet another nice, sunbathing area, a couple of men with a yellow lab who were straight out of an L.L. Bean catalog, and the most panoramic restaurant yet. I'd intended to ride some other cable cars and/or the train that connects the villages throughout the valley, but one look at this restaurant threw my schedule out the window. It was irresistible. Before taking a seat, I availed myself of one of the lounge chairs, planning to read for awhile. However, it was quite disconcerting to sit back in a lounge chair on a bright, sunny day and see only snow-covered, mountain peaks while listening to the clicks of skiers stepping into their bindings. I didn't last long before heading over to the restaurant.

Our last night in Chamonix was lighter fare after the many pounds of melted cheese consumed the previous days. We loved our wintertime visit to the Alps and hope to do another weekend trip in the summer for some hiking among that gorgeous scenery...cross-country skiing, however, will most likely never be attempted again.

Glacier Walks & Melted Cheese

Mer de Glace Glacier, 4.3 miles long and 656 feet deep

Following our trip up Aiguille du Midi, K. and I headed down the cable car in order to catch the Montenvers train up to Mer de Glace (Sea of Ice). The nearly empty train wound it's way up the mountain, giving us perfect glimpses of soaring, alpine peaks and Chamonix town far below. Arriving in mid-afternoon meant our follow-on trip in adorable, little red gondolas down to the glacier was peaceful and uncrowded (very unlike our trip down from Aiguille du Midi, which resulted in a small brawl with a large, drunk fellow who'd taken a liking to K.).

This was a first glacier trip for both of us, and we were awed. Mer de Glace moves at a rate of 1cm per hour (!), and each year, "they" (the mysterious they) carve an ice cave inside the glacier. As we took the gondola down, we were able to see the curve of the glacier in the distance, with just a hint of that color that seems a  mix between sea glass green and cerulean blue, depending on how the light hits it. Just below us, were several crevasses and the entrance to the ice cave, which we had almost all to ourselves. I fell in love with the curvature of the ice, the way it seemed to flow and whisper.

One of the things I loved in Chamonix were some of the vintage posters. On our final night, Nathan and I visited a photography shop and fell in love with some of the postcards showing photos from the late 1800s/early 1900s of explorers, both men and women, walking about on the glacier, generally without rope holding them together, the women carrying parasols, looking for all the world as if they're out for a Sunday stroll. One postcard clearly shows that parasols were for more than sun protection as the women used these for the men to help them across a crevasse or while walking along a narrow ridge - clever girls, weren't they? These vintage photos are contrasted with our trip to the glacier, where K. and I saw several hiking groups, all roped together on the glacier or, off the glacier, weighted down with packs carrying rope, pickaxes, carabiners galore, and so on. We found the painting to the right adorning the outside of a Chamonix bank, and later found a postcard of it displaying the original photograph, which was taken by Georges Tairraz in 1908 of an ascension of Mont Blanc.

K. and I met up with the guys back in town, running into them strolling down the street in their skiwear. They'd been to the pharmacy since Nathan had hurt his ankle in a fall. Nothing too serious, but ibuprofen and a compress was needed. Cocktails were in order, so we had an apres-ski get together at a local bar (in France, a bar is an actual bar, not a place for coffee) before heading off to another delicious dinner.

Day Two was a lazy day of hanging about town, exploring the shops, eating every couple of hours. It was France, home of the best croissants in the world, nutella crepes, gorgeous patisseries, yummy baguettes, and a selection of cheeses to make one swoon. Chamonix is in the region of Savoy, home of such delights as Raclette, Fondue (good fondue, not the stuff made with Velveeta), and, a new discovery, Tartiflette. This dish is very similar to a potatoes au gratin, but to my taste buds, which have been eating octopus salad, fried dough balls, mozzarella, and spaghetti with clams for the last four months, I thought I might actually pass out from pleasure over Tartiflette - potatoes, cooked with cream and bacon and onions, then covered with Reblochon cheese and baked. The reblochon cheese is phenomenal. I must eat more Tartiflette. And to my aunt, who asked in a comment a few posts ago if I'd gained weight since moving here, I now have what our friend K. calls a "cheese baby." My cheese baby was a delight to conceive over other meals, too, such as Raclette, where the waiter brought a small, cast iron, charcoal grill to the table for us to melt our own cheese, then pour it over sausages and potatoes.

I have to also mention the cocktails available in Chamonix. Each restaurant had their own house cocktails, which usually involved some sort of fruit liqueur  or syrup with either white wine or champagne. All delicious...but my absolute favorite is a traitor to Nathan's hours upon hours of perfecting the best mojito, which he learned to make during our station in Key West. Hotel Le Morgane, where our friends were staying, had a swank bar in the lobby, decorated in gray tones with fuzzy chairs and tree trunk coffee tables. One of their specialties was a twist on the mojito - lots of sugar in the bottom of the glass, then fill the glass with fresh mint (lots and lots of mint), then just pour in the champagne and stick in a straw. Voila! If I can get some fresh mint growing around this house, we will change the name (Nathan's a bit hurt that I would like this "mojito" better than his, but it really doesn't resemble a mojito in the slightest) and add it to our cocktail offerings for dinner guests. I think I'll call it Alpine Dream.

Ascending the Needle

We've just returned from a six day trip to Chamonix, France, a long weekend intended to be a ski trip but which turned into an eat-our-way-through-every-melted-cheese-dish-available. We went with our friends, D.&K., who are leaving in under a month, so we had to pack in as much fun as possible. From Naples to Geneva, there is a cheap and quick flight to Geneva, Switzerland, where one then catches a 1.5 hour shuttle to the Alpine town of Chamonix. Unfortunately, our flight was delayed over three hours, which led to us missing our shuttle and another delay in Geneva of two hours for the next one. Our quick, weekend jaunt turned into an all-out, full day of travel. After settling into our respective hotels (we stayed at La Croix Blanche, our friends were at Le Morgane), we headed out for a delicious meal which set the standard for the next four days of incredible food. In four days, we didn't have a single, bad meal, and for me, I didn't even have anything mediocre. Every dish was amazing, even down to the simple, fresh bread and goat cheese sandwich.

Friday, our group split up, with the guys heading off to ski Le Brevent while K. and I headed up the cable car to Aiguille du Midi (Needle of Midday), a height of 3842 meters (12,605 feet). Thrilling, terrifying, amazing, exhilarating. We packed into one cable car, which held about 40 people and quickly watched the town of Chamonix recede into the distance. Then the transfer to the second cable car. I later learned that these cable cars have the highest vertical ascent in the world. At the top, we found a building setting atop a mountain peak. And by setting atop, I mean the building is directly on a spire peak. The connection to the next building is over a short bridge with nothing under it. Parts of the building hang off the edge of the mountain. Stairs to various terraces are metal, ice-covered, and see-through, so that we could get a good look at the great nothingness below. But the views...what can I say...we were quite literally on top of the world. And the Alps just stretch out into the distance as far as you can see. As K. observed, "these are nothing like the Rockies." At a rough guess, I took approximately 150 photos of Alps peaks, which all look beautiful and "same, same, but different" - much like the 401 pictures of sunsets that also litter our various photo albums. We got an up close view of Mont Blanc, Western Europe's highest peak (over 4800 meters), and got to watch skiers head down an impossibly steep, slippery ridge, carrying skis, poles, and packs, to launch themselves into the Vallee Blanche ski area - an area that is not groomed, not patrolled, and prone to unseen crevasses and avalanches.

Underneath all the padding, this is me, venturing out as far as I'm willing past the big, "Don't go here" signs. The photo above shows the actual skiers walking down this same ridge to reach the top of the "ski" area.

K. and I had a quick lunch in a small cafe with panoramic windows overlooking the majesty, then spent half an hour trying to find the lift to the actual top of Aiguille du Midi. We finally found someone to ask, and luckily for us, the fellow who operated the lift was standing nearby. He'd closed it due to lack of use by the morning's visitors. After a short wait, we headed even further up, where we got a great, overhead view of the building we'd just been tromping around. I have a little vertigo just looking at this photo!

Over the next few days, I'll put up more information about our trip. The rest of the trip, while not quite as scream inducing, was nevertheless, a fantastic, restful time and the fulfillment of a dream of Nathan's to ski in the Alps.

Siren Landing

When my friend and I took our walk along the sea yesterday, we passed Castel dell'Ovo (Egg Castle...I'll explain another day, once I've actually visited the castle). More interesting than the castle was the adorable marina at it's base (Borgo Marina) and the fun restaurants lining it. Today, I learned that the marina is on the site of a crucial piece of Neopolitan legend. Odysseus wanted to hear the song of the Sirens, but had been warned of the danger, so he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax and tie him to the mast of the boat. As they passed by the island of Nisida (now connected to Naples by a short causeway which takes one to either the prison or the Joint Forces Command Yacht Club), Odysseus could hear the songs of the Sirens, but was restrained from giving in. This rejection caused one of the Sirens, Parthenope, to jump off a cliff in despair. Her drowned body washed ashore at the very spot where modern yachties play.

Now Greek colonists had come to this area between the 9th-7th centuries B.C. (making Napoli one of the oldest cities in the world). Some of these early settlers found Parthenope's body and buried her here, thus the city became known as Parthenope, and by the 6th century B.C., it was a bustling city along the trade route. Around the 5th century B.C., some of the Cumean settlers (Cuma is the settlement very near where we live) moved about 13 miles away, just beyond Parthenope, and formed Neapolis (New City). In only 300 years, Parthenope and Neapolis grew together into one city, which just goes to show that even the Ancients couldn't get a handle on urban sprawl.

Shopping Chiaia

Today my friend, K., took me to the Chiaia district of Napoli, a ritzy, beautiful, clean area with that Old World charm one expects to find in Italy. She and her husband love walking around Chiaia, and having seen it at last, I can see why. It is charming, with beautiful buildings, quiet streets, tree filled alleys leading down to the sea or up the hill to grand villas, and the best of the best for shopping. We're talking Bulgari, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, Ferragamo. We met in Piazza Amadeo, where the Metro drops off, and as I emerged from the empty Metro and entered an empty piazza, confusion reigned. This is not the Napoli I know. My friend was already there waiting and had realized today was Epiphany, a national holiday here in Italy. We later found the crowds in our walk around the district, but for the morning, we had blessed quiet. I said it was clean, however, Chiaians love to walk their dogs around - this, apparently, is where the fancy dog owners live, and it must just be too much to actually pick up Fifi's poop. One of us stepped in it right away. Our Italian language instructor had informed us that this is considered good luck. I think she made that up.

After a stop off for caffe, we headed down the street, right away passing the gorgeous, baroque, Chiesa Santa Teresa. Mass was just ending, so we popped inside and found two inspiring paintings, a worn and beautiful, tile floor, Christmas presepe, crystal chandeliers forming an arch over the altar, inlaid marble half walls, and a frescoed ceiling. That little church packs a punch. The coral colored facade is covered with statues and cherubs to delight the eye.

One of Chiaia's storefronts

Most of the shops were closed, but we lucked into one filled with clothes on saldi (sale!). Sadly, most did not fit, but we gazed longingly into windows of all the other shops with their large SALDI signs and made plans to return soon. Walking along the waterfront, we took the longer, scenic route to our real destination: Brandi Pizzeria, a pizzeria in business since 1780 and the inventor of the Pizza Margherita...or at least the pizzeria who named it. The original name of the pizzeria was Pietro...a basta cosi (Peter...and that's enough). The owner, Peter, did not have sons and gave over his pizzeria to Enrico Brandi. Brandi later left the pizzeria to his daughter. In 1889, the daughter and her husband were invited to the Royal Palace during a visit by King Umberto I and Queen Margherita di Savoia. The husband prepared three pizzas to present to the Royals, including a white pizza, a pizza with sardines, and a tomato and mozzarella pizza. Queen Margherita particularly liked the tomato and mozzarella pizza, and so the name Pizza Margherita was born. The pizza was delicious, and the atmosphere even better. The host (owner? manager? head waiter?) wore a full suit and wandered about refilling glasses while a talented guitarist showed up with quite a repertoire and got the whole restaurant clapping along.

Every pizzeria I've visited is different. Some quiet and unassuming, some bustling and packing the patrons in, some as family run establishments, and yet others as elegant restaurants that happen to serve only pizza. It's a fascinating range of experiences with only one constant...there's not a bad pizza to be found.

I can't wait to return to Chiaia and see it when the shops, bars, and trattorias have their shutters flung open...maybe even tomorrow.

La Fontana Immacolatella, located along Napoli's waterfront

New Year's Eve in Naples is Dangerous!

Just a news link to anyone who thought I might have been exaggerating about our New Year's Eve festivities here - this is crazy stuff...
One dead, dozens hurt in Naples

Buon Anno

We hosted a small gathering for New Year's Eve at our house and found the way our Italian neighbors ring in the New Year to be one of the scariest experiences possible. Think war zone with incoming rocket fire as you dash through clouds of smoke obscuring your way.

Firecrackers started early on in the day. Our friends came over for a late dinner, and we then retired to the Glass House on the roof for dessert and digestivos. This included using a sword to open our bottles of prosecco after our friend, K., assured us she had watched how to do this on "the internets." She was successful, and there is video to prove it. Ironically, I was concerned about flying corks. Ironic because of what happened at midnight. First, came the amazing fireworks. They were everywhere. On the beach in front of us, on a cape that we can see from the roof, in the yard beside us. They were beautiful. Then the neighbors came out. In the apartment behind us, they started lighting bottle rockets off their balconies. Fireworks were landing in our yard, on the roof where we were standing, hitting the tops of our palm trees. Then neighbors all around started lighting off fireworks, flares, really anything that they could set afire and and send into the sky. I kept rushing through the smoke to go downstairs and check on the dogs - Crazy Dog and his BFF, who had come for the evening. The dogs were, understandably, quivering messes. I was much the same once the fireworks began hitting our roof. Yet we all emerged unscathed and in agreement that this was one of the greatest New Year's ever.

I hope you all had a safe and happy New Year's.

Felice Anno Nuovo

Happy New Year! We have readied the house and yard for a festa tonight, which mostly involved stocking the fridge with Prosecco and picking up pieces of a dismembered gorilla (toy) that have migrated to every corner of the yard and terraces. For a small dog toy, Scully and his BFF sure managed to shred and spread it. The Glass House got an update with our all day trip to Ikea, which was as awful an experience as it sounds. Hours upon hours walking the aisles to decide on lamps and pillows and bookshelves and wardrobes! But we're now ready for the fireworks viewing. Italians LOVE fireworks. There are some for every festival and event. Every night, local teenagers light off firecrackers in the piazza up the street. It's now 2:40 in the afternoon, and we already have such heavy booming nearby that the dog is quivering on the sofa. He's going to have a long afternoon and evening.

Back to our previous two weeks though:
Nathan's Aunt B. and Uncle J. made the long trip across the pond for Christmas. After Nathan showed them Rome, Orvieto, and Assisi, I took over for a couple of local days. We visited Herculaneum, a place I've already blogged about. I did take some new pics this time, though:

The next day, we explored Centro Napoli, focusing on some of the beautiful churches there, as well as a walk down Christmas Alley. Napoli is famous for presepios (nativities), made of bark and moss, as well as many handmade figures to go into them. Christmas Alley is the place to go for these things. I didn't take many pics while down there, but I did get one that is so typical of Centro:

A gorgeous church, kids playing soccer in a piazza, and a humongous pile of trash.

Nathan had the Thursday before Christmas off, so we did an Aunt/Uncle split. Nathan and Uncle J. headed off to Benevento (a nice, mountain town) and then on to Pompeii, while Aunt B. and I headed to Vietri, yet another town I've already blogged about. Vietri is a small town on the Amalfi Coast and home to gorgeous ceramics shops and artist studios. Aunt B. cleaned up with some great finds that all made it safely back home in her carry-on luggage.

Christmas Eve found us on a train up to Rome, checking into the adorable M.D.M. Luxury Rooms next to the Vatican. I'd booked them online, and while the reviews were great, the name brought to mind a Vegas brothel. Thankfully, the hotel ran a beautiful, clean establishment. We stayed so close to the Vatican because the Aunt/Uncle combo had managed to secure tickets to the Christmas Eve Mass at the Vatican. Despite a torrential rain all afternoon, the weather cleared just in time for our two hour wait in line in the square outside St. Peter's Basilica. Church doors opened at 8:30pm for the 10pm Mass, and we only had to elbow one group of nuns out of our way to get in. The others beat our elbows to the punch. Once inside, the dilemma was whether to try to sit closer to the front, but in the middle of the row, or further back and practically right on the aisle. We picked the latter, and if I'd transferred the photos of my iPhone, I could show you how this worked out! As they say in Italy, "Domani, domani" (tomorrow, tomorrow). Following a Christmas morning of sleeping in, we headed back down to St. Peter's Square for the Pope's noon blessing of the city and the world before running back to the Metro, and just making it before public transportation stopped running at 1pm. We headed home to Napoli and a nice Christmas dinner with friends.

The day after Christmas, we drove down to Paestum, an area that contains some of the most complete Greek ruins outside of Greece. There are three, standing temples that are just gorgeous. Unfortunately, we arrived 15 minutes after the ticket office closed, so we had to content ourselves with gazing at them over the fence line.

After another day of some local sightseeing right around our house, we said Arrivederci to Aunt B. and Uncle J. We had such a great time spending time with family and showing them a part of our new life here. And they'll definitely be back since they followed the time honored tradition of ensuring one's return to Italy:

We Haz the Internets

Yippee! Our internet is now installed and working just great. It's so funny how so many things in Italy are delay, delay, delay, and then poof...they work. We got the phone call last week - the Tuesday before Christmas - from the telecommunications company. We had company in town for Christmas week and a packed itinerary. This is how the conversation went with the Telecom rep:

Company Rep (aka, Nice Lady):  Hi, we'd like to schedule your appointment for phone and internet installation. Are you available in the morning or afternoon?
Me: Oh, great! How exciting! Can you come next week?
Nice Lady: No, no, no. We are coming tomorrow. Would like us in the morning or evening?
Me [thinking fast b/c of our tour guide schedule]: Ummmmmm...morning?
Nice Lady: Okay, 10-12.
Me: Can you come between 8-10am?
Nice Lady: Okay, tomorrow, from 8-10am.
Me [remembering the multitude of stories I've heard on how the technician NEVER shows up for the first appointment...or the second]: If the technician doesn't show up, should I call you?
Nice lady: No, no, no. He will be there tomorrow between 8-10a.m. Ciao!

And so he was. At 8:30 a.m. There are times that I just love this place. By 9:30 a.m., we were online and able to surf the internet. However, I had places to show our guests, so there has been no internet surfing, blog posting, TV watching, etc. until today.

I'm sorry for the lack of posting. While back in the U.S., the schedule became packed with visiting. I arrived home last Monday, without my luggage, I might add. My two bags were two of the 20,000 pieces of luggage Lufthansa lost/misplaced/delayed last week. But I got my luggage five days later, on Christmas Day, just 24 hours after I'd decided that I probably would never see my luggage again - it's a Christmas Miracle!

But back to arrival day, flight got into Naples with no other problems, I picked up Crazy Dog from his BFF's house (BFF is a boxer named Doc), got home and bathed him (Scully and Doc play non-stop, including lots of slobering on each other, so a bath is always required), watched the Survivor finale (thank you Armed Forces Network for airing shows the day after they air in the U.S., which meant I actually got to see it!), and proceeded to fall asleep 10 minutes before the finale ended - you know, the point when you actually find out who won the million dollars, the goal of the show that you've been watching for weeks and weeks and weeks. So a 2nd thank you to Armed Forces Network for airing the Survivor finale twice, one right after the other. (I actually stayed awake through the second airing.). Nathan soon arrived with his aunt & uncle, who came to visit for Christmas. They'd actually flown into Rome while I was gone. Nathan drove up to pick them up, and the three of them spent a few days exploring Rome and the Tuscan hill towns of Orvieto and Assisi. I have got to go back and re-read the Anne Rivers Siddons book, "Hilltowns."

We had lots of fun visiting and showing our first set of guests around. In the coming days, I'll post some more updates from the last couple of weeks. So excited to have the internets! Hope everyone had a Buon Natale (Merry Christmas)!

Back in the U.S.

I left Italy on a gorgeous, blue morning this past Sunday - our first clear, beautiful day in forever. We had coffee that morning in our Glass House, sitting on our NEW sofa. The Glass House is finally usable! It was heaven to sit and enjoy our caffe while looking out at Capri and the ferries leaving Pozzuoli port. Scully decided to use his great, fluffy tail as a table sweeper and near knocked my caffe onto the new sofa, so he was banished. But he's too cute to have let that last, especially since his tail was wagging so hard due to happiness at being near us. There's just no getting irritated at that.

I flew from Naples to Munich, flying over the Alps on the route. Wow! Absolutely phenomenal, especially from the air. Mountains as far as the eye could see. Snow has hit northern Europe, so we then flew over a white blanket, and at one remote farm, there were three horses with riders galloping across a field, headed towards a home with smoke coming from the chimney. What a wonderful, winter scene and so relaxing in preparation for the many hours I was about to spend crossing the Atlantic. I had a 1.5 hour layover in Munich, and it was just enough. The Germans are super serious about their security measures. I'm thankful for it, but as I was standing in my final security line watching the monitor that stated my flight was boarding, I must confess to a little anxiety. And when my time through the line came, I realized what all the hoopla is about in regards to the airport pat-downs. My security officer was very professional, but I haven't been touched in all those places by someone other than my husband since I was a toddler. We were so intimate that I really feel like I should have gotten her name.

The flight from Munich to Chicago was brutal. It wouldn't have been so bad, but I kept thinking, "When this agony ends, I have another three hour layover and then two hour flight to Baltimore. This trip will never end." The movies on offer were recent, new, and plentiful, and my seatmate was pleasant, so the trip wasn't so bad. I'm now in Baltimore at my sister's house, and it is fantastic! I love spending all this time with my niece and two nephews. They are adorable and I love when they come running into my bedroom in the mornings, hollering "Auntie, Auntie." We spent the first two days running errands. I had a short list that quickly grew very long of things I need to buy here and take back with me. Although in just the first day, I'd collected a pile so large that I'm now putting together a box (or two) to ship home. I miss the stores here. I know it's just familiarity and knowing where to go for what specific item, so in time, I know I'll love the shopping available in Italy. Right now I'm still in the stage of having to figure everything out. Where to go, how to get there, where to park once there, do I have a euro coin for the shopping cart (you have to "unlock" the carts with a coin, then you get your money back when you rejoin the cart to the other carts), how do I ask the shopkeeper the question I have to find an item or about an item...the list just keeps going. It has been nice to have a few "normal" errands.

Yesterday, my sister and I, along with her sister-in-law, took the kids to Longwood Gardens in Baltimore to see their Christmas displays and lights. It is beautiful there. I've included a few photos at the end of this blog. Longwood has the most incredible Children's Garden, filled with water features, fanciful ironworks, pathways and a "secret" staircase. The conservatory was filled with rooms of beautiful trees and plantings, and I think the kids had as much fun as the adults.

I'm here for a few more days before traveling to North Carolina for most of next week for my best friend's wedding. I'll return home just before Christmas. Nathan is back in Italy with Crazy Dog, who is reportedly acting even crazier than normal. Nathan's uncle lives near a great, pet supply store that sells eco-friendly dog toys (organic fabrics, etc.). We got one for Scully just before leaving for Italy and it became his very best friend. He loved his bunny rabbit to death, literally. Nathan's uncle sent a dog toy care package, which arrived a couple of days ago, and here is Nathan's email to me on the events surrounding it's opening:

Scully was too funny as I opened the box and was reading the note.  He repeatedly tried to steal/walk off with the new toys as though I wasn't looking.  I figured that he should get to enjoy the care package from his Great Uncle.  So, I cut the tags off and laid them out on the couch for him to choose.  He sniffed them all very carefully, decided on one, and ran off to the yard with me chasing after him, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Not outside!!"  I finally caught up to him (he thought it was great fun), and brought it inside.  He never put it down and ultimately slept with it in his box.
[Box is our name for his crate, which we now use for his dog bed that used to be inside the crate, but is now just in the corner of the room.].

Here are the Longwood Garden pics:

Reprieve

Naturally, the day after my post on the rain never ending...the rain ended. Yesterday morning was warm and sunny, a proper Mediterranean climate. This morning, even clearer, blue skies and warmer temps. I am back on base, this time searching for the lost remote control to our garage alarm (a bad thing to lose, especially since the garage alarm was turned on). So far, no luck. I think the remote is gone forever. We have other keys to the alarm, however, in order to turn off the alarm, you must use the same key or remote control used to set it. Unless I find the remote control, we have no way to do a reset. I am sensing the return of "the Electric Man" to our house.

But back to weather, as I entered the library, clouds were massing for a kicker of a storm. Our reprieve may be over. I left Scully outside, too, thinking he could use a nice day in the yard. Oops.

We got a nice Christmas surprise at our house. Last week, while on the phone on a cold, rainy day, I was huddled by the radiator in our dining room staring out at the garden. It finally dawned on me that the tree growing right outside our front door is a poinsettia tree, covered in blooms. The tree is so tall, that the blooms aren't noticeable unless your either on the roof terrace or looking up. I've never seen a poinsettia tree like this. Our landlady came over yesterday and told me she was given a plant as a gift many years ago, and after natale (Christmas), she planted it. The tree is the result:

And just another little photo to share - this one is of Piazza Dante, in the center of Naples. It's a beautiful piazza in an area with much to offer - one of the best archaeological museums, great shopping, pizzerias, ruins, castles, etc. This picture was taken yesterday when I met a friend for coffee at a nearby bar. You may notice the piles of garbage in the middle of the square. We believe a demonstration was about to begin. I'm not sure how much the American news has covered the garbage crisis here, but it's gotten really bad. I haven't taken our garbage up the street to our neighborhood dumpsters, so I'm not sure how much our area is impacted, but there are alleys in downtown Naples where cars can no longer drive because the garbage covers the entire alley. If the issue is still going on after Christmas, I'll take a few photos - just what you all want to see, photos of trash. Anyway, here's the very pretty Piazza Dante:

Thanksgiving Trulli

I am uploading several posts today while I'm on base using the library WiFi. I am beginning to think we will never get internet. After Christmas, I am going to go get an aircard so that we at least have something at home. I thought it might take 6 weeks or so, we're at that mark now, with still not even an appointment (from all reports, it takes at least three scheduled appointments before the service tech actually shows up). It's especially odd because a family who moved onto our same block, three weeks after us, had internet within two weeks of move-in. Usually these delays are because internet isn't available in one's neighborhood. Ahhhhh, Italy!

The time has once again escaped me, and I need to leave the base soon, but I'll quickly write about what we did for Thanksgiving. We decided to travel south to the Puglia region to a little town called Alberobello (pretty tree). The town is an UNESCO World Heritage site due to thousands of trulli homes - little, white, round houses with conical roofs of stacked stone. They are adorable. This trip was inspired by an article saved for us by Nathan's Aunt C. when we visited last spring. She had an article on the food in the Puglia region with pictures of this town, and my imagination was captivated. Once we arrived in Italy, other people also mentioned the town, and there is a friendly hotel owner who has captured the American military market (and allows dogs in his houses!), so we decided to make that our mini-vacation. We stayed in a trulli house (they are cold for the first day or so until the heat fills the space!) and had the chance to enjoy the town in the off-season. It was nice to have some quiet, but it was a little too quiet. The shopkeepers were somewhat aggressive since we seemed to be the only game in town. And every restaurant we visited, we were the only table - we got great service! The food was phenomenal. I had the best pasta I've ever eaten - freshly made, and filled with ricotta and chestnuts in the lightest cream sauce. I'm drooling as I remember it.

We tried to do a good bit of exploring of the surrounding area as well, visiting the Grotte Castellana, a fantastic cave system. I've never been to Luray Caverns in Virginia, which are reportedly amazing, but this cave system here is just indescribable. "Room" after "room" of formations all over the floors and ceilings. One particular cave in the system, the White Cave, is so named because every formation in it is white - and no one knows why. There are plenty of theories, but no one knows for sure.

Another day, we visited the town of Lecce. This is a beautiful town, but to me, it was like many beautiful towns in Italy...charming streets? Check. Beautiful architecture? Check. Amphitheater in the middle of town? Check. Lecce is worth a visit for sure, if only to see the baroque architecture on the churches, but I think  the more important "site" is some of the best gelato ever! Ever! It's at Natale, which is located off of the piazza where the amphitheater is located. And Nathan finally had the chance to taste "real" gelato. He loved it! On our way to Lecce, we stopped in the tiny town of Locorotondo, which our guidebook stated has the prettiest centro (center) in Italy. I might just have to agree. The buildings are all white, the pavement is ivory, colorful flowers spill out of window boxes, and alleys are small and curvy, leading you ever onward with the expectation of more lovely sights to see around the corner. Shops and bars were all closed, but the kids were on recess, which apparently takes place in the alleys/streets of the town. We dodged many soccer balls, including one made of balled up paper.

Our final stop was on the way back to Naples, where we stopped in Matera, home of the Sassi (stone/cave dwellings) and the town where "Passion of the Christ" was filmed. The sassi rise up on a hilltop, and across the gorge, the views are of more and more cave dwellings. These places have been used as homes for many thousands of years, and Matera is thought to be one of the oldest, inhabited towns in the world (the whole world - not just the western world!). This place is only two hours south of Naples, yet we'd never heard of it until we were skimming the guidebook to see what types of things were on our route. I look forward to returning and doing some exploring in the gorge/ravine, where there are many, frescoed churches in caves.

We didn't load up on turkey, stuffing, cranberries, potatoes, and pumpkin pie. But we did have a Thanksgiving feast, quite by accident. We'd had a late (and large) lunch, so at dinnertime, we headed to one of only two restaurants we found open and asked if we could just have antipasti, wine, and dolci (dessert). The answer to these types of questions is always a yes, with a look of confusion as to why that would not be possible. But anyway, we ordered our bruschetta, the wine, then decided to also try the antipasti sampler of regional dishes. Good gracious was that a lot of food. Six of us could have eaten on that appetizer as our meal and still not finished it! We had a cheese platter, meat platter, basil souffle, chickpea mix, a bunch of other things of which we weren't sure what we were eating, and even that most disgusting of delicacies, tripe. We'd never tried it before, but since it is considered a very special item here, we thought we'd at least give it a taste. Well now we've tasted it. And that's all I need to say about it. At this point, the food had been so plentiful and delicious, we decided we had to try their dessert and ordered what we thought would be a small bowl of gelato. Nope. Large bowl of gelato, big plate of cookies (lots of cookies), and another large plate of chestnuts the restaurant owner had been roasting at a nearby stand. The restaurant was an old olive mill, in an underground trulli house, so the atmosphere was as delicious as the food. The only thing missing was the nap on the sofa after our gluttony.

Just an update

I now believe that it is never going to stop raining – never, never. It has rained all day, every day for weeks on end now. I think we might have had a nice day two weeks ago. One nice day. Even a friend from the Northwest recently commented that this is worse than Seattle, just to give you an idea of how much rain we’re getting. Crazy Dog is stir crazy in the house, but doesn't want to be in the rain. He has developed little monkey paws, and when I leave for language class in the mornings, as I'm trying to close the front door, he hooks a paw around the door like a cat and has apparently been lifting weights as he has developed enough strength to actually stop me from closing the door. So every time I leave the house this happens, I have to open the door back up, whereupon we have yet another discussion on how scared he is of thunder and lightning, so he may not stay outside while I'm gone. During one of our recent storms, Scully jumped full into my lap and commenced shaking. That was fine with me as the lightning was hitting really closely (and we've already had one strike that knocked out a light fixture), so we cuddled together until the storm was passed. I hope by my return to Italy we will at least begin having some sun every now and then!

In other news, I have finally ventured into our local Supermercato. Supermarket is a bit of a misnomer as it is more of a neighborhood grocery, but it has all the basics, with an added bonus of the most interesting freezer section I've ever come across. Sadly I didn't have my camera with me, so photos will have to come later. The freezers are the ones that are open on the top, like where all the frozen turkeys and chickens are put in American stores. Except here, there is frozen seafood...not in a package. One section has a bunch of frozen octopus(es? - what exactly is the plural?), another has some pre-fried seafood, just ready to go back into your own pot, and yet another has a bunch of beady-eyed fish staring up at the shoppers. It's fascinating.

We also finally tried out our local pizzeria. It's yummy, and about a 3 minute walk away, so "perfetto" (perfect). I was scolded by the owner because I only ate half my pizza and Nathan ate the rest. I think he didn't believe me when I said how good it was. But the pizzas are the size of two dinner plates, and one person is supposed to eat a whole one! They are significantly lighter than U.S. pizzas, but still!

Horseback Riding in the Abruzzi Mountains

Weekend before last, I joined a tour organized by our Outdoor Rec program to the Abruzzi Mountains. We stayed overnight at an agriturismo located within the National Park and enjoyed two trail rides through the beautiful region as well as their incredible food. Agriturismos are very popular in Italy and are somewhat similar to a countryside B&B. They usually include meals, which are hearty, traditional, and delicious, and many offer some sort of additional attraction – cooking classes, a vineyard and wine tasting, etc. This one was also a horse ranch and offered trail riding. We were in a group of eight plus one guide provided by NOR (Navy Outdoor Recreation), and I went with my roommate from the EuroChocolate trip of last month and another friend from language class.

We left Naples and quickly found ourselves enjoying Italy’s incredible countryside, stopping twice for the obligatory “caffe,” much needed on the chilly, rainy day. Reaching the agriturismo, ValleCupa, we checked into our cozy, clean and pretty rooms and hotfooted it down to the nearest town, Pescasseroli, for some lunch. The rain was really starting, and much of the town seemed closed. We were able to find a small trattoria, warmed with a wood burning fireplace and decorated with wooden beams and vintage photos of the town, and had filling pasta, bean soup, and local cheeses – yummy! Following lunch, we returned to the agriturismo to saddle up for the first trail ride. The rain continued, but we were determined to head out and see the scenery.

With only one really experienced rider in our group, the first ride was quite an experience. This was capped with the fact that the horses were not at all happy about being taken out in the rain, so they just started wandering up hills on their own, refused to stop, and in general, behaved like cranky children. My horse, in particular, was determined to always be in front. He was not at all a follower, even if keeping his lead meant running through large thorn bushes. We all seemed a bit frazzled after the first ride, and I don’t think any of us really had a chance to actually look around at the landscape.  Even the lone experienced rider in the group had an "active" ride. After naps, we headed into town again to do a little shopping and, as is the Italian way, ended up in the bar (coffee bar). Dinner back at the agriturismo was a traditional meal with many courses, each more delicious than the last.

The next day dawned with blue skies, lifting our spirits and giving us hope that the morning ride would go a little better than before. During breakfast, though, the clouds started rolling in. We were able to get started early, and remarkably, the horses seemed to have gone through a personality transplant overnight. Some were given their same horse; I got a new one – Furetto (I later learned his name meant “Little Fury”). He was wonderful. Calm and very much a follower. He had his friends, and he was determined to stay just behind one of them. He also had some enemies, resulting in a little kick given to one horse and a few bites when some of his enemies tried to pass too closely. But he remained calm and even-paced for me, so I was quite happy with him. Some of the other riders were not so happy with him, so there were a few people I did not get to visit with on the ride.

I could not get over the scenery. In our two hour ride we traveled through mysterious forests, populated with trees covered with moss and bare branches reaching to the grey, rain-laden clouds, huge boulders rising up from the red leaves coating the ground, a green grass highland reminding me of Scottish moors that I’ve seen only in my imagination, and steep, rocky trails where each of us were sure our horse would slip, throwing us onto the rocks below. It was so tranquil, and the only signs of other life came when we came across a group of wild horses. They must not have been too wild since one was wearing a cow bell, but there was no farm around. The group began to approach our group, and I thought we might have a little horse rumble on our hands, but we passed without incident and got to enjoy watching the lead horse of the wild pack, a magnificent white horse with a flowing mane that was lifting wildly in the high wind. It could have been the cover of a novel.

Our ride was followed with yet another delicious meal, the best one yet, and then back to reality in our little van that took us out of the quiet mountains and back into the craziness of Naples (after a stop for caffe!).