I've lost the bag I am wearing

Cinque Terre (Five Lands), is located on the west coast of the Riviera and consists of 5 havens; Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore.  They all boast their own unique beauty, and they all equally attract German trekkers with hiking sticks. "Allo" Happy bunch of people.

The Cinque Terre is noted for its allurement. Over the years, terraces have been carefully built on the rugged, steep landscape right up to the cliffs that overlook the sea; defiance in gravity has been proven and I am amazed that these buildings are still attached to the land and are considered safe dwellings! Cinque Terres charm is the lack of visible "modern" development;  trains and boats connect the villages, and cars cannot reach them from the outside.

In the morning we head to the Mongelia train station and watch as our train rolls out of the station as we scurry for change for the parking machine.  We have no Euro coins and no Euro coins can be accessed from the train station.  Group consensus is to walk into town. We have one hour to occupy 2 young children in an empty train station with the only entertainment being an empty Coca Cola vending machine and a large plastic tarp left on the floor by painters. Amusement Park for children, not good however for my tolerance.  Pleasant stroll to Mongelia for coffee, coins for parking and a few photo opportunities.  I wore my sunglasses, (once again in my quest to look 'super-cool'), but by the time I am riding the train, I am feeling quite ill and end up sitting on the ground with a snap lock freezer bag between my knees for security.  Yay me!



Start of Via dell Amore



Beautiful coastline



Tunneled section of our walk

Arriving at Riomaggiore we realised my husband did not have his wallet in his pocket.  Supurb.  Mental panic and shallow breathing instantly sets in as I am imagining repeating the process of paperwork involved with card replacement in Italy.  I flashback to the inconvenience of my handbag being permanently borrowed by a person in need 2 months prior. Panic obviously hits my parents also; they start fretting and fighting about the where abouts of their 'black bag', now also presumed stolen... needless to say, it was not stolen and eventually located on the shoulder of a parent!  We agree not to think about my loved ones wallet, and his 'glass half full' attitiude leaves me with hope that it may of fallen out of his pocket in the car.
We purchase basic trail passes and discover that the only coastal walk open to the public is from Riomaggiore to Manarola due to a series of landslides causing the other tracks to be inaccessible.  This pathway is referred to as 'Via dell Amore', and is dedicated to lovers, (grandparents and parents with prams).  It was easily accessible with the pram, and I felt as though we literally hovered over the waters, just beautiful. 

Peep holes for a view



Locks of love left along the walk




Random flowers along the way




Splashes of colour





Enjoying freedom out of the pram!



Riomaggiore provided steep streets, a nice lunch and holiday ambience.  Monorola gave us gelato, the quaint feel of a little fishing village, fishing boats parked in narrow laneways, crystal coloured waters and enough calm in the air to make me forget about feeling ill.



Riomaggiore



Fishing boats parked in the streets of Monorola



View of Monorola



By the way, day ended well when my husbands wallet was found on the back seat of the car.  Nice attempt to dodge the lunch bill sweet heart!

Ending the day with a lovely view and glass of wine from our terrace

Are we there yet?

 We are going on a holiday; destination Moneglia, to explore the unique area of Cinque Terre coastline. This was the first resting place on our "10 day road trip", (to be said with teenage surfy undertones dude).  We pack up house, kitchen sink, and anything else that can be squeezed into our 2 car convey.  Of course, it goes without saying that our adventures are always planned and performed with meticulous execution....



Crowd blocking our escape route!

My husband and my father, (who is currently recovering from suspected food poisoning acquired from the UK 24 hours prior), head off in the car to collect a rental car not too far from home.  A few moments after they leave the apartment, I hear a murmur from outside, the windows start to vibrate slightly, and when I investigate, I see a large crowd heading down the street holding banners and chanting like a crowd of volunteers on Extreme Makeover Home Edition.  Alas, am I not a contender for a free apartment renovation? No I am not!  Instead my street is being closed and filled by hundreds of young students and families, (either protesting or marching, not quite sure of the event), chatting happily and totally oblivious to the fact that they are postponing my holiday and now my husband can not leave his car space.  Perhaps this is the perfect time for my father to recieve a driving lesson Italian style?  After all, driving the pedestrian only piazza last week was just an introduction... Our street is obviously out of bounds, (do not want to start our holiday with any juvenile mortality, actually any mortality would be a bit of a downer), next option, drive thru the local coffee shop, down the footpath to the end of our street, over a few kerbs, not a problem.  "There you go dad, driving lesson number 2!"

Finally ready to leave Milan, it takes us 20 minutes to subtract 5km off the GPS route; we stop for petrol, then stop 2 km later for lunch, (we ended up leaving later than anticipated and grumpy children to feed).  So 7 km from home, over an hour of travelling; I have a feeling this may be a long day... "Are we there yet! Are we there yet!"

Did I mention I got a new pair of sunglasses?  They are prescription and a birthday present from my soul mate.  In the real world they were due for collection on my birthday; Italian time; they were almost 2 weeks late.  Apparently the lenses broke 3 times in the assembling process, but they gave me free eye cream to ease my burden, (just in case I show my burden in the form of bags under my eyes)?  Anyway...if I do say so myself... in my new sunglasses... I look like a rock star!  Although, being prescription, and perhaps, a little varied to my 5 year old pair that I have been to sentimental to replace, I felt a little dizzy after wearing them for a while.  I mentioned to my husband early in the drive that they made me feel like I had 'had a few', but after one hour, I felt like I had 'had a lot'!  I am soon back in my nerdy glasses, hugging a tupperware container to my chest, (contents of travel snacks lying at my feet), breath in the nose, ahhhhhh, slowly out the mouth, not feeling so good.  Maybe I need to adjust slowly to my cool sunglasses, or just adjust slowly to being cool, (it is quite a reach after all).  Perfect timing for nausea to set in would be as we arrive at a tunnel entrace to be told it only opens 3 times each hour. Waiting for the light to turn green, I managed a quick photo of a cross on a random sea rock, my husband changes a nappy, I breath in and out slowly, hold my hand up to my parents in a "talk to the hand" type manner as I concentrate on not decorating the interior of our car unnecessarily with body fluids.

Enter the 'Bat Cave' Batman!

 Light turns green, we enter the bat cave, (a surreal underground tunnel to our holiday destination), and take a wrong turn thru a coastline caravan park, up an extremely steep hill, with numerous 6 point turns, to arrive at a dead end.  We contact the hotel manager, who laughs and tells us in very fast Italian, that we are obviously in the wrong place.  The perfect place for a scenic photo, my husband assures us once again that it is all part of the plan.  We head towards Mongelia, (after a few rotations of a round about and no doubt my parents fear of going into another pedestrian piazza), and arrive to a hill top haven, perfect for the start of our adventure.  Soul mate made me forget about feeling ill after all the navigation confusion, (he always knows how to divert my train of thought, a husband's role?), and we happily settle into our hill top 2 bedroom self-contained apartment, with roof top views of a spectacular sunset.  Perfect.  Accomodation was found last minute, and the value for money seemed too good to be true (I thought we would be showering in acid).  So we showered the children first, no scars or screams, so I figure we scored a bargain as far as accomodation is concerned.  I feel like we are truly holidaying in Italy.  And tomorrow, we shall conquer Cinque Terre.....



View from our apartment verandah...



Sunset from our kitchen window...

 

I will follow my husband anywhere



This is me doing the "Lecco Motion"
Song was in my head all day!

 "Come on come on do the lecco motion with me..."  I have had images of Kylie Minogue in fluro rara skirts in my head all morning.  Our destination is Lecco.

Lecco  is a town of  almost 50 000 inhabitants in Lombardy, northern Italy, 50 kilometres north of Milan. It lies at the end of the south-eastern branch of Lake Como (the branch named Lake of Lecco). The Prealps rise to the north and east and set a surreal backdrop.

We explored the little town, walking the streets and admiring the many artists displaying their masterpieces.  All the shops were closed, not much opens on Sundays, but the streets and restaurants still seemed to be buzzing with a happy spring vibe.  We found a table suitable to 'people watch', and since it had just ticked past midday, we ordered a bottle of wine and a light lunch.  There was activity in the piazza as stages and soundchecks prepared for a relaxing Sunday afternoon concert to entertain the surrounding restaurants and bars.  Always interested in the art and interior of the churches, I tried to enter a beautiful white cathedral, but they were obviously closed for lunch; I thought religion was supposed to be on offer 24/7? 


Art work on display




Son choosing a beer for lunch





The church we could not enter

 
Sunday markets were set up along the lakes edge, so we slowly made our way along the variety of offerings.  Usually I would say that markets all sell the same thing, but I must admit there was an array of items from beautiful bonsai, to sling shots and aliminium hats.  Of course the token sunglasses and handbags were displayed on sheets on the ground, ready for the quick grab, run, "not selling anything illegally Mr Policeman".  I am not fooled, pretty sure that Gucci bag is not authentic for 10€.

Markets lake side

Is a sling shot sporting equipment, a toy, or a weapon?




Beautiful bonsai for sale




Everyone should have an aliminium hat at some stage of their life...



Lecco was extremely picturesque, but we decided to make the most of our day by driving onto the next little town to get some gelati.  We had 2 cars to accomodate for the children and my parents, and my husband decided that he would take the lead and I would follow.  Sounds like a good plan.  After all he is the male, I hate to stereotype, but don't all men have superior sense of direction??  I must admit that I did get a little concerned when we started driving on the cobblestone streets, these are usually reserved for pedestrian traffic only.  And as the streets got narrower, I assured my mother that we were just taking the scenic route.   When we turned past the artists displaying their art near our lunch stop, I started to recall my wedding vows in my mind; pretty sure there was something about supporting him in his goals and following him always.  No loop hole there, guess I am following him into the piazza.  Oh look, now driving through a crowd of people enjoying a drink and the concert set up.  Hello there "Mr Policeman".   My husband is approached by a police officer, as am I.  I plead innocent, (actually I am blaming my husbands bad sense of direction, but I am speaking english and she is speaking Italian, so pretty sure my excuses are not registered).  When I look at my husband, I see arms being waved around, I am unsure if he is arguing, or pretending to be Italian and just talking with his hands.  After having our wrists slapped, (not literally), we are directed to turn around and take our first right to exit.  I nearly back into a table of people eating at a restaurant, so now I have a police escort walking slowly infront of my car to guide me to the road; my husband on the other hand, turns too soon, straight into the concert set up, only to be chased by the running policeman again, for another slap on the wrist, and then he follows me.



The narrow PEDESTRIAN streets of Lecco




Passed this monument several
 times in the car and by foot

  Was our day boring my husband?  Was he trying to 'spice up' the outing to impress my parents? Was he trying to give me flash backs to two years ago, when we drove past the statue of David in Florence that stands in the middle of a tourist filled pedestrian only piazza?

All forgiven, I have a giggle and as he passes me, I decide to follow him again to the next town for gelati.  After all, he is male, and I hate to be stereotype, but don't men have a superior sense of direction??  Missed a turn off, opps, missed next turn off, opps, no more exits for 15km.  We finally exit, find a little town, but no car parks.  Prince is now asleep in the car, and princess is extremely cancerned as to when we are going to stop to purchase her some juice.  I tell my daughter to keep an eye out for a car park, and we decide to head home.   We actually have an extremely scenic drive along  the lake.  I am told by my husband that this route was of course all preplanned so my parents could get a real feel for Italy, (or just a sense of Italian driving). 


My parents are unaware of our tour guide skills at this stage...




Finally someone to take our photo who is older than 3 years of age!
Notice the snow on the mountains behind us?




Lecco with its beautiful backdrop



One big dance orgy



Teatro alla Scala

 Teatro alla Scala, is a world renowned opera house in Milan. The theatre was inaugurated on 3 August 1778, and was originally known as the New Royal-Ducal Theatre at La Scala.  I believe that it is similar in age to my home country Australia, I am still astounded by the ability of the buildings here to endure the test of time.
Most of Italy's greatest operatic artists have appeared at La Scala during the past 200 years. Today, the theatre is still recognised as one of the leading opera and ballet theatres in the world and is home to the La Scala Theatre Chorus, La Scala Theatre Ballet and La Scala Theatre Orchestra. Since I am playing tour guide for my parents at the moment, my siblings and I thought a trip to this iconic destination would make a great birthday present for my mother. I am not a lover of listening to music in a language I can not understand, (what if they are talking about me?) and the words ring in my head "It's not over until the fat lady sings", what if they are all fat, when would it end; or worse, what if they are all thin, does it ever end? I had plans for the following day, I couldn't be there all night.

I wanted to expereince Teatro Alla Scalla... one of the best operetic places in the world.  So I decided that ballet may be the best way to do that.

Guess what.... I just took my mum to her first porno.....

Did you ever see the movie 'Eyes wide shut'?  You know the one; Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman; it is basically the raciest erotic thriller made in the last 20 years. Well L'altro Casanova Synopsis, was very similar, only it was live on stage, and they did not wear a Venizian masks.

 Our seats were fantastic, positioned third balcony at the front we hung over the padded edge and commented on dancers, orchestra and fellow patrons like the two grumpy men from the muppet show.  We were close enough to see the musicians sharing jokes and making fun of each other and close enough to admire the muscle definition of the ballet dancers.  To be totally honest, I did not understand the story line, but it appeared to be about a promiscuous man who was attentive to women and a bit of a philanderer.  The dancers were amazing and all there movements were like liquid, it was mesmerising to watch.  I thoroughly enjoyed the experience even if the entire performance appeared to be one big dance orgy.




"Encore!" 




View of the orchestra from our seats



Our private booth, that we happily shared with 2 giggling Italian men

 IF Interesting Fact


Interior, just beautiful...

 The Teatro alla Scala seats over 2,000 people at any given time.

 

Tour guide by a tourist

According to Wikipedia; 'a tourists is someone who travels out of their usual environment for less than one year, and they travel either to another country or place, for leisure, recreation, or business purposes.'  So logically speaking, (or typing), I've been here for nearly ten months, I have two months before I have to relinquish my title of tourist.  Two months before I must hang up my bum bag (fanny pack) and dispose of my socks and sandals combination, (isn't that what all tourist wear)? 
Has my destination come prematurely?  My parents have just arrived from Australia, so now I am a tour guide.
Time to pretend like I know what I am talking about; time to throw an "a" and an "o" on the end of my english and pretend I am speaking Italian; time to start ordering meats from the deli instead of buying the prepacked meats; time to not dwell on the fact that perhaps I have not been as observant of my surroundings as I have portrayed to others; time to cover my mum hat and my housewife hat with the tour guide hat. 

It is early in the expedition, but I am confident  to share a few discoveries in my new role as tour guide; I feel  it is my duty to diminish any misconceptions that they may have about Italy....

'Italian dressing' is simply extra-virgin olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. You’ll find all of these ingredients on the tables of every Italian restaurant, so that anybody can make their own dressing.  You will not find 'Italian dressing' in the condiment section of the supermarket, strangely enough, I do not think anyone has even told the Italians about their 'Italian dressing' invention.

You won’t find macaroni and cheese anywhere in Italy. Yes it is a pasta dish, but it would be like having access to a Pizza Hut pizza, it's just not going to happen, (nor do you want it to). What you’ll find is maccheroni which is one of the hundreds of types of (short) pasta.

Italians do talk with their hands.  Sometimes to the point that they look like a pantomime and you could easily understand their story from afar.  You can also hear them from afar, as they are very enthusiastic and expressive when they talk, no they are not arguing, it is actually a quite conversation. 

Lesson number one, will be understanding the Italians zest for food, art, family, life, religion and wine, (I think I just added the wine in their for my own good measure). 

Benvenuto mamma e papà e buona fortuna!

Welcome mum and dad, and good luck!

Not too aware of personal space

Remember that excited feeling you used to get before Christmas as a child?  Counting down the days, wondering if  Santa will remember everything on your wish list. "Have I been good enough this year?  What if Santa saw me steal my sisters Easter eggs that she has been hiding since April?", am I on the naughty list now? Then the closer you get to that magical day arriving, you started to feel anxious, frantic, and put yourself in a tizzy.  This is my current feeling!  Only Santa is not visiting with a casette player and tapes by 'Mel and Kim' or 'New Kids On The Block'.  My parents are visiting, bearing gifts of vegemite, Bio Oil and Paw Paw cream, (hopefully)!  On their way from Australia, I am so excited, and it has got me thinking about family.

In Italy one of the most important things is family, ‘la famiglia’ as they say: the foundation of all things Italian can be traced to that respected foundation, oh and food also!



Italian children make the rules



It became apparent to me at a parent teacher evening at my daughters school a few weeks ago, that my opinions on raising children differ from the italian ways.  The younger children appear to be smothered allowing no development of self help skills, but they definitely rule the household and dictate the family routine; apart from cooking, paying the bills and driving the car, I am pretty sure they are the boss of all family decisions. 





This would be my children by 9pm!

 My husband had mentioned to me before about his discovery of the bizarre sleep routine of Italian children. I was under the impression that this was just applicable to his work colleages.  But after listening to parents talk at this information evening, I am convinced that all italian parents are crazy.  (Please do not take offence, I refer more to a bizarre crazy, not a mentally deranged crazy!)  The average bed time for a 3 year old is 11 oclock at night!  "By the time you have dinner and play..."  I sat in disbelief, almost embarrased to admit that my children are fast asleep by 7.30pm most nights.  Am I so extremely selfish with my time that I find it inappropriate for a child to go to bed after a parent?  Am I so self centered that I think parents need some alone time without making brmmm brmm noises or adjusting simple instructions to fit a fun nursery rhyme tune?  I enjoy grown up time when the sun goes down!





We have also met others who have children of a similar age to mine and listen to parents saying, "they only eat bread or icecream".  Are you serious?  Toughen up parents, who is actually doing the disciplining here?  My children know to eat what's in front of them, it is all they are getting, (I need to stop my son from eating the cutlery and plate once the food has gone)! 



This is what happens when the food run out, "Hello Hulk"!



A goal of the traditional family should be to maintain family unity and create permanent relationships, but it can became a problem if over-protective parents continuously surrender themselves to their children because they regard them as fragile. This will prevent their growing up.  I am not saying send your 3 year old to the shops for milk and bread by themselves, just be aware that they can pull up their own pants, and feed themselves food if they are hungry.

Yes there are two sides to the coin.  Perhaps over protective, but then this follows on to an extremely strong sense of family commitment.  Italian 'young adults' are living at home for longer, then after a few years respite, quite often it is the parents that then move in with the children.  Sunday lunches are a definite custom that is religious and involves more than just immediate family, and their appears to be one of the strongest links between generations that I have ever witnessed.   What will be the outcome of my child rearing attitude.... my children will be strong and independant, and will use their own initiative and drive to succeed in life, (they may also check my husband and I into a local retirement village way before our time).  We will just have to wait and see.

More importantly, "I love you so much" is said hourly to us and by us; hugs and kisses are given for no apparent reason; and our priorities are based on each others happiness; which is where they should be.  I think we will be just fine!  There is no shortage of love and affection in our household, (to be honest I can not remember the last time I sat on the toilet without simultaneously cuddling a child).  Nanna and Pa on the otherhand... be prepared to be smothered with love, we are not too aware of personal space!  I promise to leave you alone on the toilet, I can not on the other hand speak for my children!

Here kitty kitty kitty (part B)

So presumably you have all had sleepless nights also?  Tossing and turning, mind buzzing, unable to get various scenarios out of your mind.  I am finally able to bring to conclusion the mystery of the firefighters.  You may remember my post Here kitty kitty kitty, (Sunday March 13th), when I had firemen float past my window one night.  No not a dream or too much wine, it actually happened. I hate not knowing things and when we went to investigate the next morning we discovered that our door man was on holidays for 2 weeks and the replacement was there.  I had 2 weeks for my imagination and exaggerated thinking to bother me; and with suggestions from others, I was finally certain that it was a romantic wedding proposal that air lifted that fireman to the apartment above ours, in a Mills and Boons fashion.

Apparently not.  Turns out that the old lady in the apartment had lost her keys in the morning.  She collected the door mans keys for the time being and then managed to lock them inside her apartment that night.  Supposedly, it can cost between 500€ and 700€ to get a locksmith to visit you at night time, (important information for an absentminded person such as myself).  So whats the next best option?  Call the fire brigade of course.  It seems that the chief of the local fire station owed the door man a favour, which was collected on this particular evening.  So why 2 fire trucks?  They had to make it look legitimite.  So why so many firemen?  For my pure amusement and viewing pleasure...

We have now been advised, that if you lock your keys in the apartment, instead of calling a locksmith and donating towards his families next summer vacation in the Bahamas, call the fire brigade.  Because they will always come to the rescue if 'you may of left the gas on'.... 



"Excuse me, I think I may of left the gas on, will you come rescue me?"