Friday fill-in

1. The last band I saw live was a group of guys playing traditional Irish music in a pub in Westport, County Mayo. They were a somewhat motley bunch, but they could play like nobody's business. One guy had longish hair that he managed to set on fire (just a little) by leaning into a candle during a particularly lively number.
2. What I look forward to most on Thanksgiving is Papa's pesto and Mom's pie and hearing what all the kids are grateful for this year.
3. My Christmas/holiday shopping is started but probably won't be completed until the last minute.
4. Thoughts of Smarties fill my head, because MJ the Heartless refuses to go to the grocery store for me so they can fill my stomach instead.
5. I wish I could wear bells wherever I go. But they'd probably drive me crazy.
6. Bagpipes remind me of my great-grandma; they were always her favorite part of the parade.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to the usual, tomorrow my plans include working, and Sunday, I want to get lots of work done so I can have a relaxed holiday weekend!

QE2 update

She ran aground yesterday. Did we jinx her? Sounds like us, since she suffered a mishap but probably only cosmetic damage.

But in more interesting news, she was on her last journey prior to her new life as a casino in Dubai. In other words, we got to witness one of her very last visits to Ireland.

Second in a series of two...

...that was supposed to be more, but we kept chickening out.

Here is Chloe with a couple of Italian soldiers who were much more enthusiastic about having their photo taken than the Roman cop. This was at a rest stop on the way to Roma.

Foto dall'elicottero

At long last, photos from our helicopter tour of the Dolomites.

Ready for flight



Lift off!


Far horizons


Frosting


Look closely! (click to enlarge)


Nice digs


Patterns


Yes, we were that close


Is that you, God?


Back on the ground

Thursday 13

It's the Little Differences

Italia 1. This is a "Narrow Road" sign: 2. And this is a narrow road: 3. These are parking spaces: 4. Bathrooms are tiled floor to ceiling and bidets are standard equipment. 5. The drive-through at McDonald's is called the McDrive. I kid you not. 6. This is a high place for tourists to visit: 7. Graffiti is everywhere (and some of it is damned cool): 8. The doors are unique: Ireland 9. The fish in Fish and Chips has skin. And sometimes tails. 10. This is a high place for tourists to visit: 11. Emos are gas stations (and they are frequented by tractors): 12. Sheep are everywhere (and some of them are damned cute, even if they do urinate while we're taking their picture): 13. The doors are unique: Happy Thursday!

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Waterford

The coolest part of our tour of the Waterford crystal factory: watching a couple of guys drip a handle onto a pitcher.

At the end of the tour, we watched a demonstration by one of their master cutters. He was a personable man in his 50s or 60s who showed us his stuff, chatted us up, and then asked if we had any questions. A woman asked if he gets a backache from standing at the cutting machine all day.

"I don't, no," he replied smoothly. "But I had a devil of a headache until about 10 this morning. That came from leaning up against the bar in the pub last night."

QE2

One fine day in Ireland, we drove down to County Cork to the town of Cobh (pronounced "cove"). Our purpose in going was to see the town that rescued the Lusitania survivors and waved good-bye to the Titanic. But we were in for a wonderful surprise! The Queen Elizabeth 2 came into port while we were there, and the entire population of tourists and residents came out to greet her. We all stood at the waterfront railings waving like fools and being waved at by the equally excited fools at the railings on deck.

"It's just a cruise ship!" MJ sneered.

Kids!

For me, it was eerie and inspiring. The QE2 is of the Cunard line, so there we were in a town which is effectively a cemetery and memorial for many of those who died on one of Cunard's most famous ships, watching a big giant humongous ship sail in that had "CUNARD" proudly painted on its side. It felt like we were jinxing the ship somehow, but as far as I know, she hasn't sunk between then and now.

I'll resist my newborn impulse to take a cruise and try to keep it that way. (Can't you just see the headlines? "Queen Elizabeth 2 sinks in hurricane Veronica")

In the meantime

MJ has posted some Europe photos on her 365 blog. Here are some blurbs to accompany them.

Ireland (Tip: right-click these links and then click Open in New Window)

Poulnabrone Dolmen, the Burren, County Clare - This is a grave in the Burren that predates the pyramids at Giza. It was pouring rain the day we explored the Burren, with a rather crisp wind tugging at our jackets and freezing our noses. For me, none of this detracted from the beauty of the place. It is rugged, dramatic, simultaneously lush and barren.

The Burren, County Clare - The crevices between these stepping stones go down at least a couple of feet. There's a whole world down there: grasses, ivy, flowers, spider webs, etc. Fascinating. Evidently this vegetation would overrun the stones if not for the steady cropping of the cattle in the area.

The beach at Dooega, Achill Island, County Mayo (3 photos) - The McManamans, half of Frank's half-Irish heritage, hail from this village on Achill (pronounced "ackle") Island. They were hardy stock, I think. It is a spectacularly beautiful place, with lush grazing lands, barren hills, towering cliffs, lovely beaches, and sweeping views of a few dotted islands in the huge Atlantic. But the settlements there reminded us so much of limpets, clinging to the island rather than really being settled on it.

There are sheep everywhere. In the fields, alongside the road, in the road, in the abandoned cabins. At one point, I got out of the car to run over the edge of a (seeming) cliff and down the hidden green slope beyond into definite sheep territory. They were unconcerned with my presence.

The roads on Achill are lined with the de rigeur hedges, but here the hedges are almost entirely made up of 8-foot tall fuscia bushes, which were all in bloom. Gorgeous!

Graveyard, Ardmore, County Waterford (2 photos) - One of many stunning grave markers. The second photo is the road outside the graveyard, with the gate we used to enter the grounds on the left.

Our Irish cows, Whitechurch, County Wexford - This is the field that we could see from the windows of our cottage. It was so quiet there, and so very dark at night. It provided just the peace and quiet we needed after our busy second week in Italia.

The cottage was kind of neat, kind of funky. It's an old converted granary, and our hosts, Patricia and Roger, and their family lived there first, so it was a project house, with a lot of the renovations done piecemeal. The attic room, where MJ slept, has two twin beds tucked under the sloped roof and a tiny little en suite bath. Our room was on the "first" floor (second floor to my fellow Americans), with a TV/sitting area, the big window where we could watch the cows and the sunset, and our mock-canopy bed. Everything else—entry, kitchen and family room, Chloe's tiny little single bedroom, and the main bath—is on the ground floor. The cottage has a separate driveway and parking lot, so we had nice separation from the main house and the other cottages; we didn't see other people unless we wanted to. You can see photos here and here.

One day, I took a walk down the road a ways. I took a random turn from narrow road to really narrow road, crested a hill, and encounted a cow. Somewhat concerned because all the other cows were behind fences, I wandered back to a nearby farm where the farmer was working on a piece of machinery that this city girl is helpless to identify. His dog saw me coming first, went gaga at the prospect of a visitor, and didn't even seem to mind that I couldn't pet him; he led me on down the road with great enthusiasm. "Excuse me," I said hesitantly to the farmer. "There's a cow loose on the road over there. Is that usual around here?" He smiled a little. "It's pretty usual," he said. "Sixteen of 'em went by a little bit ago." He did a quick headcount in his own field, just to be sure, but explained that one of his neighbors is not very careful about closing gates.

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare - It's pronounced ma-her, in case you were wondering, not "more". Now you know.

The Burren again

Hook Head, Hook Peninsula, County Wexford (2 photos) - This was one of my favorite spots. There were gale force winds blowing, so we got tossed around in an exhilarating fashion as soon as we stepped out of the car. In fact, I found one place where the wind was sort of scooped by the terrain so it would hold me up when I leaned into it. Loved it!

I don't know why the second photo looks so calm. Don't let it fool you.

Tintern Abbey, Hook Peninsula, County Wexford - And cow.

Graveyard and St. Declan's Tower, Ardmore, County Waterford - Ardmore was on my must-see list because it is featured in one of Nora Roberts' Irish trilogies. This graveyard did not disappoint. Lovely, historic, mystical, chilly despite the sun. We expected to see Carrick, Prince of Faeries, appear at any moment. And it's on a hill with territorial views of the village, bay, and cliffs.

The headstones there are fascinating. Many of them include the name of the house where the deceased lived. One of the most ornate was a four-sided monument that had the man's name on one side and his two wives' (both of whom he survived) names each on another side. And we saw one stone for an IRA soldier who died in the troubles, circa 1921.

The adjacent church (not pictured) is roofless now but still interesting from an architectural perspective. For instance, there are some fascinating Romanesque carvings on one side: http://www.inmagine.com/dp034/dp1824984-photo But perhaps the most interesting thing is that the locals have begun burying their dead inside the church. Some of the graves are marked with huge horizontal slabs, including a couple that are placed in the center aisle to unfortunately resemble big lengths of sidewalk.

On the way to Ardmore, we toured through Dungarvan. This was on Chloe's must-see list. It is mentioned in the trilogy in a bit of fanciful local color ("the pub roof blew clear to Dungarvan"), and it caught her imagination. We actually found Dungarvan prettier in an overall sense than Ardmore. I could easily spend our next Irish trip "stationed" there.

Italia

Torbole, Lago di Garda - Shopping day!

The lakeside garden of that building I can't identify, Malcesine, Lago di Garda - Chloe

The lakehouse and views therefrom, Lago di Garda (4 photos) - Chloe again, the church, just one of many sailboats, the tiled roofs below us

Trento
Near their apartment - Chiara walking Cora

Downtown (2 photos) - Typically beautiful scenery

ItalFly hangar, Trento airport (2 photos) - Our helicopter waits. Just one of the many planes Frank lusted over inside.

A view from the helicopter - I have many more of these. It was so gorgeous up there!

The Roma and Venezia ones seem pretty self-explanatory.

Look out the window... or not

Sometimes being an unschooling parent is hard.

When Frank and I travel, we have this just-shy-of-desperate need to be busy, see as much as possible, seize the day. MJ and Chloe don't share it. Their more usual daily activities remain a big part of their days when we are traveling, and they aren't afraid to (ahem) sacrifice some sightseeing time in favor of keeping up with the usual.

For example, they started reading the Twilight series while we were in Italy and found it quite compelling. So, one fine day, I had to leave them in the hotel room while Frank and I went to explore Venezia. THIS WAS VERY DIFFICULT FOR ME and I expect big, fat kudos for doing it.

Then there was the day in Dublin when they stayed in the B&B watching the first presidential debate while Frank and I went wandering down to Temple Bar and Grafton Street.

Then there was the day when MJ preferred sitting in the cottage alone with a book and a bad DVD to visiting the Waterford factory and the Dunbrody famine ship.

Then there was the day when Chloe was busy drawing and wouldn't get out of the car to explore the Burren.

I remember endless roadtrips when I was a kid when my boredom was addressed with the deathless advice, "Look out the window!" I tried to keep those moments in mind when the girls made these (ahem) bad choices, all the while hearing a little voice in my head chiming, "It's not at all the same thing!" But to them, it really is, even when what's out the window is one of the most famous sites in Europe.

And, hey, at least they are rarely bored.

Malcesine photos

The waterfront


Just our favorite car park, but this photo gives an idea of the drama of the shoreline all along the lake


My namesake ship. (Shonna, do you guys know what "siora" means? Or is it just a name?)


I actually don't know what this building is/was, but this is the ceiling in the interior...


...and this is in the lakefront garden outside.


Afternoon spritzes (a traditional, slightly bitter afternoon refreshment)

Lake house photos

The Inimitable Chiara

One of our lizard friends


Nighttime views


The Maiers do laundry the European way

Journal excerpt: Peeking at the Knights of Malta

9/18/08

Gianguido's friend Mauro and his wife led us from Trastevere up to a swank neighborhood that is home to foreign embassies and Italian movie stars. Our destination was the Priory of the Knights of Malta, not to visit the grand master of the order (who still lives there) but to peer through the peephole in the front door. Through it, you see a fairy-lighted, tree-lined avenue and a perfectly framed view of the lighted dome of St. Peter's. Very pretty.

Local lovers visit this spot. Some of them sit in their cars and neck under the tolerant eyes of the machine-gun-toting guards, but one couple wasn't content with that and instead engaged in a little nooky at the peephole itself, he peering through while his hands roamed and she giggled. They weren't in the least concerned that we were standing just a few feet away.

Journal excerpt: Roman gladiators

9/18/08

The motorcycles are the new gladiators. At every red light, they move between and alongside the cars to the front of the line so that, when the light changes, they all leave at once in a big roaring pack.

People from all walks of life travel by "moto" and scooter: kids, business people (the women in high heels), some studious looking fellows in corduroy and tweed. It is understandable on the one hand—two-wheeled vehicles get twice as far in half the time—but I also think they must be a little bit suicidal. To drive in Roma at all is to engage in fierce (yet also pretty calm) battle, with lane markers and stop signs regarded as mere suggestions. Stop lights, though, are obeyed always, since running a yellow can cost you two points off your 24-point license, and the fines are hundreds of Euros.

We have been surprised by the lack of Italian motorcycles. Japanese bikes hugely outnumber them.

One amusing note: The Ducati Il Monstro that is sold in America is here offered as the Monster.

The cars here are distinctly different from those in America. Private SUVs and vans are very rare, and I have seen only one (smaller) pickup truck here. Also, as Chloe and I noted in England, the auto manufacturers offer different models in Europe, smaller and boxy and very cute. Smart cars are hugely popular, since they fit into the motorcycle parking spaces. It's entertaining to see them nosed up against the curb next to the Vespas and Yamahas.

Journal excerpt: Helicopter tour of the Dolomites

9/16/08

Gianguido treated us to a one-hour Dolomite tour in one of ItalFly's helicopters. I prepped my stomach by drinking little, eating, and taking some Dramamine. Maybe it helped.

Me as we boarded the 'copter: Are there air-sickness bags?
Gianguido to the pilot: Sacchi di vomito?
The pilot (in a "there is no way you are going to need one" tone): Oh, no, no, no!

My mistake: I didn't insist. Fortunately, MJ had brought along a shopping bag which served in a pinch.

But all of this is secondary to the flight itself. Wow! Totally, spectacularly beautiful. I took 7,000 pictures [on MJ's camera, fortunately - see photos here]. And Frank was on Cloud 9. Or maybe Cloud 999. He was really short on sleep and not feeling 100% when we arrived at the airport. By the time we left, he was cured, ecstatic, and energized.

Roma

Gianguido, Gloria, Chiara, and some random tourist in front of the Colosseum.

Me and my girls and some random tourist in front of Constantine's Arch adjacent to the Colosseum. The cobblestones you can see in this shot are called "San Pietrini," little St. Peters. Some of the roads around the Colosseum are still paved with these.

Chloe and the cop. You can't tell by looking at him, but he did agree to this photo. This is near the Spanish Steps.

Party at the Spanish Steps. Click to enlarge (but it won't help much).

Family photo (and a couple of goofy faces) in front of La Fontana di Trevi. This area was packed with people even in the pouring rain.

Trento

A random building in Chiara's "boring" town. Click the image to see the details.


I can't remember if this is a church or part of the university. Anyway, it's gorgeous.


MJ's birthday party. Gloria, Max, Chloe, MJ, and Chiara.

Lago di Garda

This was our view from the lake house. Don't you feel sorry for us?

Chiara and Gloria:

Beauties by the (chilly) pool. Note that Chiara is wearing her Zenmomma art, the chocolate lollipop purse, which she just loves.

Grief

It looks like ~400 of my Europe photos are lost to the Evil Gods of Digital Destruction. I can only be thankful that MJ was taking photos in most of the same places as me. Exceptions: Murano, Waterford, the Dunbrody famine ship, Duncannon Beach.

We'll take the camera card to a technician and see if s/he can recover them, but for right now it doesn't look good.

Woe! Woe! Woe!

24

We're home! Dublin airport hotel to our front door took about 24 hours. Phew! What a trip!

I actually slept last night (in my own bed!!!), so I'm at work this a.m. Frank and the girls are settling in back at home.

Trip report posts will begin later today. Promise!

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!