Ah, Italia!

Greetings from Milano. I actually have a sufficiency of Internet time today and yet have no idea where to start with this blog post.

Yes, I do. Venezia. Always Venezia. Ohmigod, can a place be more special?! You know how Americans hopelessly romanticize Europe? Well, Venice is better than you think.

But before that there was Roma. It was moving and significant and delicious (we are eating our way through Italy, ya know). For Frank, it was just a bit poignant, coming face to face with modern Roma and its abundant traces of the Rome he learned about in all those years under the Jesuits. Gianguido put us up in a truly lovely little boutique hotel out near the beltway (Grande Raccordo Anulare) that circles Roma. From there, he was our guide, taking us to the usual, fabulous places (colosseum, forum, Spanish Steps, Trevi) and a few less publicized fabulous places.

The girls' favorite was, I think, our visit to Trastevere, a trendy little neighborhood "across the Tiber." We went there to join some friends for dinner, but MJ, Chloe, and Chiara made their escape early to roam the energetic streets. They joined the party on the steps at a piazza, where a junkie declared his undying love for them. Quite an education my girls are getting here. :-)

Our least favorite was the day we spent walking the streets downtown in the pouring rain. It was a tragedy of etiquette, since we were all too polite to simply say, "This is miserable. Let's stop." Even that day had its highlights, though, especially our visit to the Pantheon, a stunning church that holds the graves of some Italian notables (Vittorio Emmanuelle being the most recent). It's a spectacular place. The domed ceiling is open to the sky, so the rain comes in to fall on the marble floor. I overheard one woman say that on Sundays when it rains, the parishioners stand there with their umbrellas up.

I skipped our drive to Roma, but the drive north again was just as lovely, if a bit lonely since Gianguido had to fly to Sicilia for work. Through Tuscany and the Appenines, past Firenze (we didn't stop, saving it for next time). Positively gorgeous countryside, dotted with cathedrals and castles and vineyards.

And then Venezia. We were all exhausted and tempted to huddle into our Mestre hotel. Fortunately, Chiara insisted we go across to the island, so the Canal Grande at sunset was my introduction to Venezia. WOW!! And then we went to Piazza San Marco. WOW!! (Frank and I would later spend half an hour sitting there just contemplating the church.)

No, my thoughts about Venezia are just too scattered. I will write more about it later when I can include photos.

I do have a story to tell about Murano, though. This was yesterday. Chiara and her mom had caught the train back to Trento, and the girls had their own wandering to do (plus they were still engrossed in Twilight, which they bought for an outrageous price at a Roma bookstore), so Frank and I caught the vaporetto (ferry) on our own. We had done no research about Murano, so we were clueless about where to go and why. Our aimless wandering served us well, though, and we ended up in a swank little gallery. I fell in love at first sight with an ornate violet decanter and goblet set and asked the hovering sales man (who was clearly unimpressed with our casual dress and Crocs) about it. Trying to find easily translated words, I asked if the gold decoration was in the glass or "painted on." "It is 24k gold, madam," he replied snootily. "Gold cannot be painted." With that cleared up, we continued our perusal of the wares. I finally circled back, muttering to Frank that "I just have to ask," and inquired about the price of the set. Mr. Snooty glanced at the price tags and then wandered off, so I went up and looked myself. Six goblets at 200 Euros each and 400 Euros for the decanter. Ouch! Then the salesman returned and said, "650 Euros." Corrupted by 400-Euro Roman dinners (really! Gianguido is a terrible influence and a ruthlessly generous host), I remarked, "But that price is too low! Now I am tempted."

Just like that, we were no longer disgustingly casual American tourists but the salesman's very favorite people. He made us very comfortable and showed us the pieces up close and told us about their design, unusual color, etc., and then went to "talk to his boss" about the price.

And yes, I bought the set. Or rather, Frank did. He is a terrible influence, too. But the new price included shipping and everything! And we have an heirloom to pass on to future generations.

As we concluded the sale, I asked if there was a fornace that we could visit. The salesman took us through to the back and stayed with us, explaining each step as a murrina-embedded drinking glass was made before our very eyes. His accent was a little thick, but we think that glass will be in the package when our new set joins us at home.

Here in Milano, we are doing nothing but vegetating in our hotel room (which is a huge quad, easily our biggest room so far). Chiara recommended that we visit the duomo, but we just don't have it in us.

Dublin tomorrow, where we should have Internet access at the cyber cafe attached to our lodgings.

Ciao!