Saturday Feb 27

As we learn of more snow on the east coast in the U.S. and of Hawaii’s potential tsunami, we’re faced with…warm, then cold, then warm. Go figure?

It’s been a good, speedy week, enjoying my writing work, Ava’s proud to be counting to 100 and her reading is progressing beautifully. Claire’s getting ready for a concert and had fun w/ her friend Lily, who is a regular at our house of late.

I did get all systems in place for a spin class on Thursday, only to have my phone ring as I was walking up the steps of the place. The owner was on the other end to say they’d had a break-in over night so no spin.

BUMMER. I very rarely do the indoor cycling here as the studio w/ a good deal, decent occasional class time and my schedule are a bit of a challenge to match up.
Anyway, in lieu of sweating, my friend Beth and I had coffee. Can never complain about that.

Break-ins do seem a regularity here. I keep expecting to walk in one day and either find a hooligan in my house or find a mess left by one. Let’s hope for neither.

As my Bronte class nears an end we did have a lively discussion Wednesday, regarding the most unlively of Bronte books we’re read so far – Agnes Grey. Go Agnes.

After her I read The Shack. Thought-provoking but not the greatest writing, I would venture to say. Have since moved onto Blood Red Snow White. Russian fairytale of sorts. TBD on the book review per moi.

Friday I re-entered the world of art. I’d taken a bit of a hiatus since our Italy trip, wherein we saw so much Renaissance art I was a bit done in.

This time I joined the St. Johns Woods Women’s group for a 2-hour “walk” of the National Gallery, which features mostly western European art from the 1200’s up to 1900. Fabulous place that goes on forever, so you really have to focus your time/energy to avoid art overload.

Our guide was fabulous; she pulled us to various pieces throughout the timeframe represented, focusing on a few in-depth. Great tour; I’d like to follow her around the gallery regularly.

From there I zipped off to join friends at Le Boudin Blanc, a fabulous, bustling little French restaurant in Mayfair. Amazing food. AMAZING. One of the best meals I’ve had here since arrival. And great company, too.

Joe and I ended the day with dinner at a Thai restaurant up the road from us. Cheap and cheerful, it was tasty. Service sucked and the food took forever to reach our table. I think a small family runs the place, which, typically, is larger than it appears from outside. You enter a small storefront expecting to find 6 tables and the place goes on forever.

So this place that goes on forever had two waitresses and it looked like the dad was cooking and handling checks.

Ordinarily this wouldn’t phase us but we’d purchased tickets to an 8:40 film across the street. So when food, which had been ordered at 7:15, eventually showed up at 8:35 we did consult the clock.

Though I must say I wasn’t too worked up; the first movie I went to here didn’t start until half hour of previews, ads, warnings about pirating and cell phones had taken place.

The restaurant’s ambience cracked me up, too – space heaters here and there. While appreciated by the chill-baine affected types like me, they do have an impact on ambience…

And since yesterday started off smelling like spring but crashed and burned by the time we scooted off to ballet, bring on the space heater!

The bean curd and aurbergine chili-spiced Thai dish delivered a nice dose of warm spice. After throwing some cash at the cook/cashier we flew across the street for our 8:40 movie; at this point it was 9.

Never mind that. Candy/popcorn ensued. So at 9:05 we walked in…and ads were still in full force.

Eventually Invictus started. Good film, about 20 minutes too long. Or is it that my butt isn’t used to sitting still for more than an hour? That’s what happens when you don’t work in corporate America for 8 years. Your tush gets out of sitting practice.
About the film. Morgan Freeman: great. Matt Damon: not the right fit. Don’t you need to be bigger and have a broken nose or shattered cheekbone and a consistent accent to be captain of South Africa’s rugby team?

Today found me running around Regent’s Park with Debra, listening to the zoo animals squawk for breakfast. Somehow our 8:30 a.m. run got edged up to 7:30. Pretty soon Saturday will feel like every other morning of the week.

Except that breakfast at our house is good on Saturdays (M-F it’s oatmeal, toast or cheerios with bacon, which is really ham masquerading as such here in the UK). This morning: pancakes. Oh and of course Sunday is spoilage day -- chocolate brioches.

Continuing on with the food story, tonight was a lamb chop/potato meal. Sadly, in the land of lamb, I could only find New Zealand product at the grocery store. Since I had my head wrapped around lamb chops and Marks & Spencer only had the NZ version, I went for that. Paired w/ red wine from same country, it worked.

Politically, clearly, NZ has something going right w/ lamb exportation… Don’t worry, the US manages to get items like Kraft mac n cheese slipped in. Plenty of Americans living here are happy to pay the $5 extortion fee for the 50 cent product.

In other news, we’re off to Cinderella on Ice tomorrow. Claire’s skeptical, Ava’s excited and I can’t wait – it will be at Royal Albert Hall, which is spectacular and the acoustics are beyond amazing. So even if the show stinks, whatever sound is produced will be out of this world.

Winter Again

Ok, after being teased with lovely warmth over the weekend (so much so that Ava and I scooted to the park for a short outing after dumping our luggage at home Sunday) we’re back to sleety cold.

Yesterday it rained/snowed/sleeted all day…I believe today is more of same. Cold looks more glamorous on TV at the Olympics, I've decided.

Yesterday’s reigning achievements: getting everyone back to school on time and Claire landing a dance class she really enjoyed. Mondays will find her donning a leotard for ballet and a little jazz/tap.

And more achievements: scotchies and good beef.

Remember the former: rice krispy treats only better? Cheap and cheerful too – PB, corn syrup, sugar, rice krispies. Here I top them w/ 70 percent dark chocolate so they’re truly out of this world. At least in my estimation.

Pair that with Chinese beef stir fry (well ok, the two don’t pair but who cares) and you can envision the meal at our house last night.

I scoured Waitrose for a decent piece of beef, which I vaguely remember having some time ago. Not necessarily from the grocery store here, though.

BUT I was determined yesterday to fulfill my desire for really good beef so after much perusal I found organic sirloin on sale…and you know what? It was delicious and tender and the dish a cinch. Just marinate the beef, cut up in chunks, in oyster sauce (a few tablespoons).

Saute an onion and two red peppers (or whatever color you have on hand) with some garlic in a little oil in your wok for a few minutes. Add beef, sauté some more. Throw in rice noodles, a little soy sauce and a little more oyster sauce. Meal ready. And yes, kids did eat the meat and noodles.

Today: a foray back into the turf world for me…more writing projects have re-surfaced of late, no complaints except why aren’t there more minutes in a day? No doubt all of us could use some.

I’ll leave you with this final note: confusion. Friday the owner of our humble abode here called prior to flying to the US, declaring he’s firing the handyman who’s been instrumental to us having doors that work, removing curtains so I can wash them (call me anal but who wants someone else’s filth hanging on your windows…), putting on kids’ head boards, etc.

Then today I get a call from supposedly fired handyman saying he’s coming to fix the rain-damaged walls next week, and when can he do it?

No, I did not get into “gee I thought you’d been fired;” I’ll stay out of that mess.

TBD: Alan or no Alan next week?!? Cross fingers he shows -- I have shelves that need to be mounted!

Moonfleet Manor!

So off we headed to Waterloo Station on Friday morning – en route to Weymouth in Dorset, the southwest coast (English Channel). (You’ll see plenty of Weymouth in a couple of years as it will host the Olympic 2010 sailing events.) The area is agrarian and tourism-driven, we were told, with the population swelling to extremes in the summer months.

After a relaxing 2 ¾ hour train ride we pulled in and cabbed it down windy streets and roads, past lovely brick buildings and patches of green mingled with coastal scenes. Our hotel was down an even narrower country lane, right on the sea. En route we passed some farms, many horse riders and plenty of horses and ponies milling about in verdant green fields (I continue to be amazed at how much green is in England).

A traditional English building, the lovely stately inn had a big foyer with a dozen pair of wellies off left for guest use. A dog was hanging about near reception – we later learned he’s the Moonfleet Dog, name of Snoopy. He was a big hit with the kids.

After ditching our luggage we passed through 3 lounges with plenty of comfy sofas, chairs, card tables and coffee tables loaded with magazines and newspapers, fireplaces…and wound our way to the restaurant. It was bright and cheery, with big windows featuring great views of the sea and countryside.

Our lunch was sandwiches, eggs, pizza – all good – then we headed off to a large indoor play area where Claire and Ava made use of the trampoline and other toys.

Eventually we checked into our room, then headed to the pool. After plenty of splashing/being splashed, I stopped into the sauna to warm up and dry off, then back to Huntington and Harlyn (love how they name rooms in these character-filled inns).
Great fun to see how these places are decorated – lots of old photos, china, bear skins and the like mounted on the walls.

After collapsing for a bit we headed down to the lounge to await our dinner call. The process here is to have a drink, place the food order and wait to be invited to sup. No complaints – nice fireplace to cozy to up and plenty of headlines to glance over.

Our food was good – Joe’s sweet potato soup was superb – my crabcake and pork belly were fine. But my trio of chocolate was superb!!! Particularly the chocolate soufflé.

Saturday dawned gorgeous – blue sky and sunny. Both Joe and I took walks. The countryside screams James Herriott – large green patches over gentle hills, farm houses here and there. The dog accompanied me as we trudged along the water and field’s edge. Claire of course loved hearing the dog went along; she’s convinced we’ll have a dog as soon as I am won over with dog love.

Lovely way to start the day – exploring a gorgeous area on a gorgeous morning.
I then enjoyed a cappuccino and the paper while Joe wandered.

Then down to a noisy, cheerful buffet. Many families were at Moonfleet – very popular with the toddler crowd.

The food: typical British breakfast – bacon, sausages (really good ones, I might add), hashbrowns, eggs, roasted tomatoes, baked beans, toast.

From breakfast I headed off to a 10 a.m. massage, which was delightful. My back and neck melted. I loved that half coma state massage delivers me into. Pity the poor souls who don’t like to be touched.

After I grudgingly left the table I found Joe and company ready to go to Monkey World:

Set amongst the woodland of Dorset lays 65 acres of sanctuary for over 230 primates. Monkey World was set up in 1987 by Jim Cronin to provide abused Spanish beach chimps with a permanent, stable home. Today Monkey World works in conjunction with foreign governments from all over the world to stop the illegal smuggling of apes out of Africa and Asia. At the park visitors can see more than 230 primates of 15 different species.

We had a great few hours there – a gorgeous day to wander through the place, which is quite large, with a wide array of indoor/outdoor facilities for primates. Big and small, busy and lazy, climbing and playing, relaxing and people-watching, they were fun to read about and observe. Some have horrid pasts – cigarette burn scars, prior addictions to valium and other drugs, inability to parent because they’d never been nurtured, etc.

Here they seem happy and according to the anecdotes about them, most have learned how to relate to their species again, after having been caged or used by humans in inhumane ways.

The park has playground areas and a nature walk interspersed throughout, so it was particularly fun for the kids. Great climbing facilities!

We eventually grabbed a late lunch of typical fast food stuff, then hit the gift shop and took our cab back to the hotel. Great views of the area on the return drive.

Back at Moonfleet we grabbed suits and hit the pool. Once everyone was pooled out, I showered the kids up, then hit the sauna. LOVE LOVE LOVE saunas.

We had a nice break before dinner, enjoyed drinks by the fire again, and this time dinner was exemplary. I had an amazing goat cheese and beet tart (again, pity the poor souls who don’t like beets) and a lovely mullet fish dish served with chorizo and gnocchi.

Joe had a duck appetizer and lamb dish which he seemed to enjoy, Ava had her pasta and Claire, chicken, mash and beans.

For dessert I had a simply amazing warm gingerbread pudding. Kids had ice cream. We all fell into bed, tired, full and happy.

Sunday -- We woke up to rain but by the time I got moving downstairs for coffee the skies had cleared and a lovely day embarked.

I borrowed a pair of wellies and squished through mud in the pastures around the hotel. Again, great views and good exercise, hefting those mud-caked willies. Joe did some wellie-hiking, too, then we enjoyed another round of really good sausages at breakfast.

Ava and I then hit the creche, where she made a mask, and Joe and Claire put some time in at the big play area for more trampoline and table tennis.

In no time it was check out and off we went to the train station for a relaxing trip home and tomorrow, back to school!

On to Dorset

This mid-term break business has been great fun – nice little stay-cation.

Wednesday, after our infamous swim adventure which for the 3rd day didn’t wipe us all out, we zipped over to Westway Stables for Claire’s Pony Day.

She spent from 10 to 4 grooming and loving on the horses, cleaning water buckets, riding, playing arena games and who knows what else. When Ava and I arrived to retrieve her she was glowing with a big grin on her face as she and her partner scrambled to trade places on their horse for a race.

Every bit of her smelled like horse; I even had to wash her jacket. And she was exhausted; we’d intended to eat at Café Med, a neighborhood favorite, but after she got home all she wanted to do was collapse in her nightie. So we tried a new pizza delivery place instead.

Now we’ve only ordered pizza here a few times, given we like to make it. And the handful of delivery pizzas we’ve had have been like Dominoes at home…

BUT my New Yorker friend Kathy finally landed a pie she could approve of before leaving back to NY, thus handing Papa Del’s info on to me.

I would venture to say Papa will make it into my phone – sans the appetizers though. The wings and corn left something to be desired.

Back to pony day for a minute…God smiled down on Claire and her pony friends as the day was bright and sunny, so they could all enjoy. After Tuesday’s deluge, I didn’t expect the best…

And yesterday was another cold, ornery day, so the bright gem in the middle was much appreciated.

While Claire rode Ava and I met some friends for The Princess and Frog movie (well done, as always, Disney – this time no parent got the axe). And while the title screams girlie, I think boys would like it too.

Yesterday we wrapped up swim, met up w/ friends at Giraffe for a kid-friendly lunch, then went to Hairspray. This was the first long musical Ava’s been to, and she was a great audience member. It’s a fun show, wonderful music, humor and dance. Claire seemed to very much enjoy it, as well.

Their show etiquette, I must say, was much better than the middle schoolers behind us – they had their feet up, sans shoes, on the backs of our seats. GROSS. And in a very elegant theatre, too…

Today we’re off to Dorset – happy weekend!

2nd Swim Day – No Twitch – and Pancakes!

I’m happy to report that yesterday’s swim was successful, this time no tears at all as Ava likes her teacher and has since declared “I love swimming class!”

From that scramble we were off to Topsy Turvy with friends. Whoa the mid-term break crowd blew us away.

With the line out the door (it didn’t help that the rain set in early in the morning and was still going strong when I went to bed last night), we decided to dig in our heels so the kids could enjoy the chaos.

And frankly, it wasn’t bad once we got in the place. We found a table upstairs, put our 7 chicken fingers orders in (here they call them chicken goujons – it sounds so French and upscale, doesn’t it?) and settled ourselves into the noise.

Several hours later we sought out the kids’ shoes and made our way through the crowd, back into the rain and home again home again.

For dinner: the ever popular BFD!!!

Shroave Tuesday pancakes at our house consisted of:

- 220 g flour
- 1 t BP
- 1 t soda
- ¼ t salt
- 1 T granulated sugar
- 450 ml buttermilk (which I couldn’t find but what tastes better, I think, is sour milk, yogurt or in my case crème fraiche diluted w/ milk)
- 2 eggs
- 2 T melted butter (everything is better w/ butter)
- 100 ml milk
- And blueberries are optional (we opted out here – kids don’t want fruit messing up their pancakes)

Combine the above with pajamas, some winter Olympics, syrup & scrambled eggs with REALLY good cheddar on top. And voila.

Happy Shroave Tuesday!

Now on to Ash Wednesday.

Today’s agenda will no doubt feature more swimming, pony camp for Claire, movie for Ava and me and anybody’s guess on the rest.

Swim day without a twitch

As reluctant as I was to re-embark on swim lessons at Swiss Cottage leisure centre, that’s precisely what we did early this morning. We’d gone through one swim lesson in the fall and it rattled me so much I couldn’t rally the resources to return until now.

Essentially, we’d arrived there after school, rushing all the way to pick up temporary membership cards, get outfitted and fight with swim caps (they look easier than they are under duress in a chaotic, noisy locker room). Then we had to find the right entrance to the pool (which involves meandering through a parking garage entrance, counterintuitive to the entire lay out of the place).

At this point I was already exhausted. Add to that poor Ava sobbing out of apprehension, convinced she’d have a male teacher. For whatever reason this male instructor thing throws her for a loop, though she’s grown to like Mr. Chubbers and Mr. Doyle at Abercorn.

Eventually we made our way to the check-in area in front of the teaching pool, where a mass of adults and children huddled.

We joined the huddle and the kids were eventually assigned to “phase 1” since they were new. I then peeled Ava off me and went behind the big glass window with all other parents banished from the pool side.

From there I attempted to keep track of my two children, whose swim caps blended in with all the other pink and black swim caps.

Thirty short minutes later we all re-amassed to collect our dripping charges, Ava again sobbing (not sure why as her teacher was a woman and the most they did was blow bubbles).

Suffice it to say we were all very grateful to get out of the place, which was noisy chaos as the next group worked their way in.

And I was even more grateful, later in the week, when I received a text saying the pool was broken and lessons were cancelled indefinitely.

What brought us back yesterday morning, you ask? This looming credit that I must use or lose…and the fact that the kids need some exposure to water – beyond shower/bath – regularly.

The idea of doing a week of lessons rather than hiking up to Swiss Cottage immediately after school and rush rush rushing through the hair-raising process every Monday also held some appeal.

So I clenched my teeth yesterday morning and got everything ready early so we set out the door with plenty of time. Ava shed a tear or two on the way but held it together. The lobby of the place was actually (dare I say) quiet. As was the locker room and pool area.

We got dressed in calm, checked in with a lovely woman who assuaged Ava’s fears immediately and I again disappeared behind glass to try to pick out my children among the mass. (Smaller mass this time, but nevertheless a mass similar in height and swim attire.)

This time no bubble blowing – the girls had been placed in classed deemed appropriate to their abilities. Again, the 30 minutes flew (an hour and a half of preparation and de-preparation for 30 minutes in the pool -- how much sense does this really make?!?)

This time Ava was upset upon leaving the pool but only because the swim cap was bothering her forehead. Claire seemed relatively unscathed by the process.

And after a relaxed locker room experience we were home by 10:15! Therein I escaped the first mid-term break lesson without a twitch. We'll see how I do today.

What else, praytell, will our agenda bring today? Shroave Tuesday! (Pancake day here – instead of “Fat Tuesday” we’ll be cleaning out the cupboards and making pancakes in preparation for Lenten fasting.) So it’s BFD (breakfast for dinner) at the Webers tonight!

And sometime between swimming and BFD we'll hit Topsy Turvy for some indoor fun (yesterday's cold and snow flurries are on the agenda for today. Bring on the inside entertainment)!

Paddington and running

Running around here is enlightening, I must say.

Yesterday I took it upon myself to jog in Paddington Rec, a park near us that features trails, track, playground equipment, synthetic turf systems, tennis courts, a café that never seems to be open when I’m there, etc.

Oh and plenty of green space for dogs, Frisbees, the occasional kite, a picnic, Abercorn sports day, the list goes on.

In addition to providing recreational opportunity and some fresh air (not to mention great views – the leaves changing during our gorgeous, long autumn season were particularly amazing at Paddington), it’s a great place to observe people.

Yesterday, as I ran sprints around the track, I lapped four Muslim men out for a jog. Their children – 3 or 4 I think – were ensconced within the track, where there is grass with fence separating track and grassy oval.

The men, dark, swarthy and bearded, chatted as they made their rounds, wearing dark, heavy sweats, hats and sweatshirts. (I think they were more heavily dressed than I was; maybe sweating it off was their intent.)

En route to the track I passed a couple of soccer games in full throttle – mostly Asian men who looked to be in their 20’s.

On the other side of the park the dog walkers meandered, yesterday several middle-aged women with small, jacketed dogs. I’ve seen more clothing on dogs here than anywhere I’ve ever been. These cosseted pooches live a starkly different life than the copious unhomed hounds we observed in India.

The women with said dogs seemed to drift in and out of conversations with other dog walkers so perhaps they regularly run into each other at Paddington.

I get a kick out of a couple of older ladies I’ve often seen during my morning Paddington foray. These two ladies, who look to be upwards of 70, mill about with cigarettes hanging from one corner of a wrinkled lip, waiting for Precious (or whomever) to do his/her business. I don’t believe it occurs to them that what they’re doing flies in the face of recreation at Paddington…

Then there are the personal trainer pairs. Yesterday a male trainer and his female client discussed the benefits of stretching as they eased into a routine involving exercise stations around the park.

And in an old bandstand in another corner of the park, three other Asians held poses (maybe tai chi?).

No one was on the cricket pitch this morning; often it is used by young Indian and Pakistani men early on Saturdays. On the park’s edges, the occasional resounding smack or shout could be heard as pairs of people face off across the court, tennis racket in hand. These folks seem more typically to be British, generally 25-50, I would guess.

And always there are a few lone runners, like myself, making our way around the tennis courts and pitches, up and down hills and around green spaces, some with shorts and tanks no matter what the weather, most with some kind of musical device to see us through. We're a more motley crew -- old, young, skinny, not so skinny. All in our own little world.

Later, Paddington will be busier, noisier. But early Saturday mornings are perfect.

Pre and Post Bronte Weekend

Life hasn’t been dull here in Londontown so far in 2010.

School, of course, keeps everyone’s calendar moving, especially w/ coffees. ASL seems to have a coffee venue going at all times.

Last month I popped in for my cups of joe at the 2nd grade meeting. Reading was the hot topic of this one: why kids this age should be reading age-appropriate material rather than the Harry Potters of the world. Word to selves: back off from the over achieving and let the kid get the themes, fluency etc. through books geared for them.
That doesn’t preclude reading Harry Potter w/ child (though around here Harry hasn’t piqued Claire’s interest).

In other news, gone are the dinosaur card catalogues (of course) and on with interactive library space, wherein kids can suggest books to friends, critique books, make book wish lists, etc. All fun and capsizing on the online community/technology this generation embraces. I’m already feeling left behind.

Other coffees:

One about raising girls. Hot topics: perfectionism, eating issues, the “good girl” paralyzed to step out and be herself/excel creatively for fear of misstepping, the “mean” girl myth (usually there isn’t a “mean” girl – there may be an ugly group dynamic or a girl your child views as a threat due to her ability, popularity, etc.). Lots of points to ponder. Including one comment about a 4th grader on a diet… let’s take a step back, people.

I recently also had coffee w/ Abercorn’s class room parents. Nice to catch up w/ a wide array of people – I continue to be amazed/impressed with Abercorn’s international community. Ava’s class has Russia, Japan, China, India, Pakistan, Great Britain, Nigeria, New Zealand, Australia, Cyprus and the U.S. represented.

I did also get to appear in Ava’s class as mystery reader. Some mystery: Miss Waters announced to the whole class the day prior that I would show up to read. Hmm!

And while on the Abercorn topic, I got to escort two students along on the tube/train station field trip last week.

Off we all went, with nearly as many adults as 4 and 5 year olds, to the tube, then to Paddington Station. I’m happy to say we didn’t lose anyone, though one child got her shoe stuck in the escalator at Paddington. She’s fine, shoe didn’t appear to be worse for the wear, either.

Ava and Oduko held hands and ran around the train station in the cold (we had a wicked cold snap last week, naturally on the day we all set off slowly on this trip). I’m not exaggerating when I say half our outing was spent crossing streets, getting everyone re-grouped and counting heads. No wonder home schoolers fly through material. No lining up.

On the agenda for the tube/train station trip: a treasure hunt around Paddington station, wherein kids had to find signs/objects corresponding to their sheets. When they’d checked them off we met at Krispy Crème by Paddington bear for doughnuts. And yes, KK tastes just as good here as at home.

The theatre scene of late took Joe and me to Misanthrope and Oliver.

The former was very well done, very smart, great language but not really my thing. After that and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof I’ll stick to the lighter side for a while.

Oliver was more up my alley; I really enjoy the amazing musicals we can take advantage of here. From the costuming to the music, the acting and dancing to singing, it’s all so professionally executed, and with such warm enthusiasm time and again – how do they do it?!? In Oliver the cast includes many young people (Oliver himself, naturally, and numerous orphans/scamps). Their talent is already amazing.

Other bright spots of late:

- A lunch cooking class at Divertimenti, a culinary store in Marylebone. The theme: Middle Eastern (quick and easy). Lamb tagine (fabulous), a wonderful marinated chicken dish, chick pea salad and rose water ice cream. (Pass on the rose water.) Everything else was delicious and the chef leading the class passed on some great tips and tricks. No cleaning of quails, thankfully!

- Book group – we read and discussed An American Wife in January (how much of it is really “centered” on GW and family, one wonders) and Diplomatic Baggage: The Adventures of a Trailing Spouse by Brigid Keenan. The former was about 150 pages too long, in my mind, but an easy read. The latter wasn’t a great book to discuss but the anecdotes are fun and easy to read; some of the woman’s third world adventures made me laugh out loud.

- Turkish lunch – one of the parents from ASL hosted a big Turkish lunch get together, complete w/ the Turkish ambassador’s wife. We enjoyed wonderful food, can’t begin to tell you the names of dishes but it was all delicious. The best were little tiny meat-stuff dumplings that Turkish women get together and make for special occasions. We even got a demonstration on how to make these delicate, labor-intensive things.

- Topsy Turvy! Claire had a day off recently, so rather than run to a museum and get cultured up a group of us gathered at one of those indoor play places where there are no doubt germs galore. A few hours later, the kids re-surfaced for greasy food, then dove back in, ending the day tired, dirty and happy. We’ll be back there again this week, I suspect.

- Claire’s poetry café. ASL’s 2nd graders presented their poetry works last week, introducing them with video clips. They ended their presentations with animated slides they’d created. Each child’s topic related to a place they enjoyed/had fond memories of (back yard, home country, room, etc.). Claire’s was remembering riding in Kansas City a couple years ago.

- Chinatown! One of the Abercorn moms is half Chinese, so she corralled a group of us to enjoy lunch recently w/ her in Chinatown. It didn’t take much convincing to get me there…so for a few pence (cheapest lunch I’ve had here so far) we all ate tons of Chinese food at the Crispy Duck.

The place is cheap and cheerful, I’d go again in a heartbeat and we rolled out of there stuffed. Afterward we hit the Chinese grocery store across the street with Asian friends Heather and Helen, who regularly shop there. It’s so much fun to peruse all the exotic ingredients (pigs heart, anyone?).

With a recommendation for a “finer dining” Chinese experience, Joe and I made a reservation for Friday evening at Plum Valley, also in Chinatown. We had a fabulous meal there after I hit one of those infamous grocery stores for five spice powder and some other Chinese ingredients (I’m jumping on the Chinese New Year band wagon and making an Asian duck dish later today. That, and chocolate brownies, are on our food agenda -- must celebrate the Chinese holiday and Valentine's!).

Might I add that I was the token white chick in the Chinese grocery store, which was PACKED with Asians as they were preparing for their big holiday.

- On the art end, ASL recently gathered a group to go to a special Indian photography exhibit. All black and whites, the photos – taken by Raghu Rai -- were superb and brilliantly curated at the Aicon Gallery near Piccadilly Circus. Another similar exhibit is opening this month and I’m hoping to go – this one will be larger, featuring works from Pakistan and Bangladesh as well as India.

- Walk in the mud. Last week I set off with 15 other women hikers and our wizened guide, Hugh, to hike 9 miles in Kent. (It sounds exacting, doesn’t it…9 miles. Let me just say the pace was a nice walk.)

This time the weather and ground conditions left much to be desired. Cold and snow flurries (far better than cold and rain or sleet). The ground was muddy, as in that kind that sucks onto the soles of your shoes, making them weigh several pounds. This you could argue merely adds to the exercise quota of said excursion. Or in my case, makes you concerned your shoes are simply going to be sucked off into the abyss of of rural England, and you’ll be forced to trudge back to London in filthy socks. Imagine the looks on the tube as beautifully coiffed business people seek small spaces in which to circumvent your soiled-ness.

Well anyway, suffice it to say I didn’t lose my shoes (they are pretty filthy, though – that would represent a hiking coup I guess; you aren’t really an outdoorsy person if your gear hasn’t fully been inaugurated).

Hours of squishing through mud later we did return to London, having had our fill of fresh air and nature. Our respite: a lovely little pub lunch at mile 5. Oh and a much enjoyed cup of coffee as we waited for our train to take us home.

We were definitely the dirtiest passengers on the return tube trip! Might I also add thank heavens for hot baths.

I’ll await warmer temps for the next sojourn out into the British countryside.

- Belated birthday celebration. Last week we finally pulled Claire’s belated b-day party off at a paint your own pottery place in West Hampstead. She and her 12 friends seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves as they painted pets on plates, then segued into cake and ice cream. Today we’ll shlep up to the place to pick up said plates…the only downer on this expedition is that one plate ended up with a hairline fracture (which apparently is a huge rarity and the entire staff at the place is “devastated”).

Naturally Murphy’s law kicked in and the damaged plate is the birthday girl’s.

We haven’t broken the news to her yet as yesterday she tried out a dance class she was very excited about, only to be disappointed because it is so "not her style."

And yes, she will have the opportunity to re-do her plate, free of charge, etc.

- Burns night. I must say, I’m ignorant of the writings of Robert Burns but apparently he’s Scotland’s most renowned poet. And in 1801, on the fifth anniversary of the death of Robert Burns, nine men who knew him met for dinner in Burns Cottage in Alloway to celebrate his life and works. The meal centered “on a fine fat haggis; with recitation and singing of Burns’s works and a toast (in verse) to the memory of their friend and hero.”

Today Burns night is celebrated every January 25 in various locations throughout the world, and I happily attended my first.

We – an Abercorn parent group – gathered at a local pub to toast Burns – with Haggis and roast beef. (I opted for the latter.)

I don’t know if accompanying each course with whiskey was the traditional Burns celebration, but that’s what our group did. Or I should say I smelled each whiskey, took a tiny sip and passed it down to a big guy a few seats over who drank his, Sarah’s and mine. (I wonder how his January 26 was.)

More on Burns night:

Apparently since the first Burns supper was such a jolly evening, all agreed to meet again the following January for a Birthday Dinner for the bard, little knowing that they had invented a global phenomenon that we know as the BURNS SUPPER – which still broadly follows the Reverend’s original plan.

Burns’s popularity grew rapidly after his untimely death and the idea of meeting annually to share his poems and songs in the bonds of friendship caught the public imagination. Some Ayrshire merchants in Greenock followed with the first Burns Club Supper in January 1802 and the West coast towns with strong links to Rabbie reached out and joined in the new festival: Paisley, Irvine, Kilmarnock and Dumfries.

Typically, a dozen or more men sat down to dine – as often working men as the middle classes – sometimes in a bar Rab had frequented. But the real link was his poetry with its message of love, freedom and the essential value of humanity. Many early suppers were organised by Burns Clubs who exist today, but a big boost in participation came with the big literary Burns Suppers, the original organised by Sir Walter Scott in Edinburgh in 1815 with Hogg the Ettrick Shepherd giving the Immortal Memory.
So now I need to seek out Burns’ works and get up to speed for next year’s Burns event.

On that note, I will leave you (but not before I tack on a recipe I very much enjoyed making and eating recently – simple, fun and quick to the table for a weeknight!).

Lamb Meatballs

1 lb ground lamb
½ c. fresh parsley
2 T onion (chopped)
½ c. feta cheese, crumbled
½ cup kalamata olives, chopped
2 eggs
1 t. Italian seasoning

Mix all, make into 16 meatballs, broil 3 minutes on each side. I served this w/ cous cous. And yes, the kids did eat the meatballs. (Fun food!)

Have a great week, all. It’s mid term break here, with both kids off, so we’ll be hitting the theatre, stables, movies and topsy turvy. And ending things with a brief sojourn to Dorset. May the weather improve rapidly!!!

Bronte Country!

When did February happen?

Oh well, can’t complain – we had a busy, interesting, chilly January and today is gray but rather warm…teasing us with spring, no doubt. I do believe the weather plans to dip again on Monday but until then I will enjoy wearing one layer less!

To wrap up Bologna – we left January 2, having thoroughly enjoyed wonderful sites, food, wine, art and churches. (Did I mention plenty of art and churches…)

On our way out we stopped at a GIANT flea market near our hotel – same trinkets and trash as every market – and were off to the airport to journey home.

Upon return it was a Santa fest, given the jolly fellow came while we were traveling. I think everyone was happy with their stash.

On January 4 Joe and Claire returned to routine, Ava and I welcomed our new fridge (which I’m happy to say has now been quietly cooling our food for a month). May it continue in this vein until we bug out!

I resumed jogging w/ my running partner a few days a week – something we began in December. (I’d resorted to running when it got cold to stay warm. Some days I even run to pick up Claire – while dressed in slacks and dress shoes -- from school while Ava scoots. No doubt I get plenty of strange looks.)

So the running: good. Chill banes (sp?): not so good. I managed to develop sores on my fingers and swelling, apparently due to the cold. (Clearly I’m harkening back to the Charles Dickens era.)

Assuming I had some kind of infection, I did have my digits checked out by my doctor, who after trying to treat said infection, rushed me to a supposed renowned rheumatologist.

I’m relieved to report it’s nothing serious and eventually this swelling and soreness will diminish on its own. Clearly I belong in a Mediterranean climate. (Love London, but could we transplant it to Greece?)

I have also since been tested for Raynaud’s Phenomenon which is:

A DISORDER THAT AFFECTS THE BLOOD VESSELS IN THE FINGERS, TOES, EARS, AND NOSE. THIS DISORDER IS CHARACTERISED BY EPISODIC ATTACKS, CALLED VASOSPASTIC ATTACKS, THAT CAUSE THE BLOOD VESSELS IN THE FINGERS AND TOES TO CONSTRICT.

The testing for Raynaud’s involved me going into a rather dreary, old room without windows at the Royal Free Hospital, where a very chatty scientist examined the blood vessels in my fingers, then immersed my hands in cold water for a minute and tested how long it took them to warm up. (Frankly they didn’t warm up until I’d been on the bus for a good while, fingers ensconced in mitts.)

Exciting times, right?

In other news, early last month, after Ava returned to school (she was off until Jan 7), I joined a group of ladies for a presentation and tour of “Turner and the Masters,” an exhibit at the Tate Britain. Great talk by one of the museum curators, and a wonderful presentation of works alongside Turners’. (Among the artists featured in the exhibit: Canaletto, Rubens, Rembrandt and Titian.)

We also got more snow in early January, which shut down airports and public transport (though both kids’ schools remained open). Somewhere in there Ava got invited to a birthday party at one of those indoor pay and play spots – perfect for the weather and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.

My Bronte class kicked into gear mid-month, starting w/ discussions of Jane Eyre, then Wuthering Heights. Next we’ll read Agnes Gray. Jane I loved re-reading, Wuthering Heights I mourned when I finished it and Agnes I’m not too excited to pick up given several people have told me it’s dull. (Ringing endorsement…)

As part of class we headed off to Bronte country last weekend, a lovely group of mostly women (as the class is all women). One husband and one boyfriend braved the excursion.

It was fabulous; we left London last Thursday and headed up to Haworth, home of the Bronte family, via train. After a few hours’ journey we were whisked to our bed and breakfasts by coach – I stayed in the Memories Room at the Old Registry, a quaint old B&B on Haworth’s old cobble-stone main street.

A delightful place with lots of character, my room was decorated in gold and black, with a curtained, high four poster bed and very snuggly comforter. The bathroom was immense and right up my alley: complete w/ a lovely Jacuzzi jet tub.

For dinner we wandered up the very steep cobble-stone hill to a little pub, wherein we were entertained by the museum director dressed as Branwell Bronte, brother to Charlotte, Emily and Anne.

In character and with great humor, he presented a lengthy poem that gave us the family history of the Brontes. Branwell, too, had tried his hand at writing, though not attaining the accomplishments of his sisters. He also worked as an artist and as a bookkeeper and tutor (he was fired from the teaching position because he’s said to have had an affair with the mom. How’s that for going the extra mile...).

Struggles with alcohol and opium addiction led to his demise. FYI we saw the apothecary where he attained his opium – it’s still an apothecary, no doubt limited in its opium dealings today.

Dinner was great – we enjoyed plenty of wine, an incredible caramelized onion tart and sea bass for me. These pubs seem to do wonderful things w/ caramelized onions and cheese.

Friday found us heading down to our quaint little dining area for a warm country breakfast – I had sausage, hash browns, toast and beans. (Beans for b’fast seems to be an English thing.) We then met our guide for a walk on the moors. It was bitterly cold. BITTERLY. But we braved it, hiking past the churchyard and through a lovely lane lined by gorgeous trees.

Out into the brushy, wild moors we soon found ourselves. The wind was piercing, temperatures brisk as we slogged along. (I’ve never been with a group of 20 that moved fast – now why is that?)

Periodically our guide, a library educator and wealth of information about the Brontes, stopped to share anecdotes about the Bronte family and their excursions into the moors, homes and farms featured in the books, geographical differences since the 1800’s, etc.

The area, rugged in appearance and climate, is beautiful – hilly and green, with rock fences zigzagging here and there. Apparently in early autumn it’s at its best, with lavender flowers blossoming on the brush across each and every hill.

After our very brisk outing we hopped aboard our coach to peruse the countryside, stopping and getting out of the bus to see firsthand homes and farms featured in the books. It was a lovely drive, windy roads, stone homes, rivers and creeks meandering through the hills.

Eventually our meanderings led us to lunch at what is supposed to be England’s best Indian restaurant. It certainly is large and serves immense portions – we left with huge doggy bags, which we passed on to our bus driver (despite the fact that he told us he didn’t particularly care for the restaurant…Alice was determined not to let the food go to waste!).

Stuffed, we returned to our hotels for down time, wherein I got a great massage. Felt so good after being outside fighting the cold earlier in the day.

Then it was off to the bus again for pick up of two late arrivals and dinner in another locale – this time a lovely pub where we ate in the cellar. We were told by the kitchen staff that the building was originally a dungeon, part of the local castle.

With arched brick ceilings, it was a warm, festive environment – no doubt an improvement on its former uses.

I couldn’t do justice to my “locally grown” pheasant (makes it sound like they have a cage of pheasants out back – which could be the case, I guess) given we’d had so much Indian food a few hours prior to this food event. That seemed the general consensus around the table – the vegetables were popular, if nothing else.

Saturday in Bronte country:

This morning we were out and about early again, porridge being most popular after the food orgy of the prior day. I opted for a cheese/tomato toasty – yum!

Our first order of business for the Bronte day: a talk by our guide of yesterday in the basement of the parsonage. She was very insightful, led us through the Bronte timeline with a preview of the house, slides of photos of the family, information about how the Brontes as children lived and wrote, etc.

We then broke into two groups, with mine starting in the house for a tour. The Brontes lived in the parsonage from 1820 to 1861 as their father was the parson – lovely home with gorgeous windows, set on a hill very near the town centre and moors, with graveyard adjacent.

Though added onto later by a subsequent parson, the rooms the Brontes inhabited remain true to how they lived, with some personal effects on exhibit, their furniture, etc. Of note was how small Charlotte was – 4’10”, I think, and her dress and shoes on exhibit illustrate just what a tiny person she was.

A special exhibit featuring tiny books the authors had written as children is housed in the “newer” part of the house, along with letters and other Bronte items of interest.

From the house our group trooped off for a walk around town, from the cemetery to the hill where Bramwell’s favorite pub, the infamous apothecary and other businesses were (and are still functioning today).

A lovely, albeit chilly day, it was a great morning of insight and I think we all felt like we had a good grasp of the family history and influences of lifestyle, time and place that affected the authors.

Lunch was at one of the bed and breakfasts – the Ashmount. A very elegant property with lovely views over the Haworth community, its rooms were warm and light-filled. We had lasagna and vegetable chili, which warmed us up nicely.

Then we separated, some people to the coach for shopping at a local market and for antique-hunting. The other hearty folk (how I include myself, frozen fingers and all, in this group, is beyond me) added some layers and slipped on hiking shoes for another walk around the moors. This time we made a pact to move fast so as not to freeze!

And with fewer than 10 in-shape sisters, we did indeed have an invigorating, beautiful hike through the moors on a crisp, sunny, blue sky day. Over the brushy hills, down to the Bronte falls (where icicles hung off the banks), around the vibrant blue reservoir, up a steep hill where short, fluffy sheep with dainty hooves grazed and back around through town we walked. Two hours later we stopped for a drink at The Black Bull, where Bramwell apparently imbibed more than a few.
We’d been told it was a seedy place and maybe it was, but our time there was enjoyable, exchanging laughs around a nice big table with good beer.

For dinner we ate late, trudging back up the hill a final time for a wonderful meal at a very trendy pub – it screamed Haworth from outside, very modern inside. I had a lovely pear/goat cheese salad and shrimp/scallop main dish.

Great, memorable day in Haworth!

On Sunday some of our group trooped back out to the moors for a morning photo and last look over the hills. Most of my hotel compatriots, myself included, opted to relax over breakfast. One more cheese/tomato toasty…

And we began our journey back to London – bus to train, train to train, train to cab and home again!

Catching up on January 1

Happy New Year! (Now that January is almost over…no one said I’d have a timely blog.)

Since it is the new year, I get to pause and think about 2009…which has been a year full of interesting stuff – more change (the only constant), new schools, new role for Joe, another move (away from hotel living, sadly), plenty of adventures:

We started the year off in Singapore on our first cruise experience. The kids and I got to enjoy more of India’s treasures in Tamil Nadu and Kerala in February, Joe got snowed in in London when he flew in for late February meetings.

In early March we said good-byes to our hotel friends and those we’d become close to in Gurgaon.

And then off to London! St. Johns Wood has treated us well, even without room service and warm weather.

Claire jumped into first grade with both feet (home school was clearly a form of torture for all of us). Ava hit the road running at Abercorn – full-time as a pre-reception student in her red and gray uniform.

I spent March checking out houses, supermarkets and the general London lay of the land.

And April found us in Brussels, then moving into our Victorian-era leaky house.
From there it’s been a blur – a little of Ireland, some France, out and about in the UK and around Londontown – lots of theatre, galleries and museums, the queen’s birthday parade…all kinds of fun stuff.

Our first houseguests arrived in July and we did our best to show Grandma and brother-in-law around.

Late summer found us back in the US for the first time since October 08 – nice visit, great to be back in the driver’s seat!

And in no time we were back in school, 2nd grade and reception for the British school girl. I, too, went to school…a Jane Austen class wherein we studied 3 of her novels and took some field trips to her years-past stomping grounds.

For a change of scenery we visited friends in Germany in October, checking in on harvest and enjoying new wine festivals.

November: my parents as guests and the time flew, lovely Thanksgiving w/ friends here in town.

And of course we ended the year in Italy.

Now 2010 is underway and no doubt will prove as stimulating as the past year.
BUT for now, back to New Year’s Day in Bologna:

New Years Day dawned rainy – I took a walk around town while everyone else slept late (thank heavens the kids aren’t crack of dawners. Of course I there is that piece about having to peel them off the bed for school…)

We eventually rolled down for 10:00 breakfast and were well fed…loved the brie. Spectacular brie. Did I mention how good the brie was?

We then wandered down to the old city centre with Christmas tree in the square. Said tree had lights hooked up to bikes so to light the tree, one had to pedal. Fun fit concept so we all hopped on bikes and helped light the thing for a bit.

Then we checked out the Cathedral --

The Basilica di San Petronio. Dedicated to the city's patron saint, it is the biggest and most important church in Bologna. Its construction was started in 1390 and continued until the 1600's, when the roof and apse were completed.

The facade has remained unfinished. The main portal contains the Stories of the Old and New Testament, sculpted by Jacopo della Quercia, between 1425 and 1438. The solemn and majestic interior is divided into three naves supported by ten pillars. Twenty-two chapels open off the side naves. One contains an organ which still works – it was built around 1470 and is the oldest in the world still in use. (How’s that for good trivia?)

From there we headed to one of Bologna’s many towers (apparently there were dozens years ago; wealthy families showed their resources by building tall towers).

We climbed up one of them – 497 (?) steps – more than the Duomo. A series of wooden staircases with plenty of other people navigating them. I’m happy to report that we Americans didn’t huff and puff up or down (in contrast to a bunch of unfit – albeit trim – Italians – must be the smoking they do and the walking we do).

About these towers:

Between the 12th and the 13th century, the number of towers in the city was very high, possibly as many as 180 (more likely 80-100 total). (The richest families may have used them for offensive/defensive purposes.)

During the 13th century, many towers were taken down or demolished, and others simply collapsed. Many towers have subsequently been utilized in one way or the other: as prison, city tower, shop or residential building. The last demolitions took place during the 20th century, according to an ambitious, but retrospectively unfortunate, restructuring plan for the city.

Of the numerous towers originally present, fewer than twenty can still be seen today.

We climbed one of “The Two Towers,” both of them leaning (what’s the deal w/ leaning towers in Italy?). They are the symbol of the city (what, praytell does that tell you about Bologna? Town w/ towers that can’t stand straight and that managed to elude the teardown).

The taller one is called the Asinelli while the smaller but more leaning tower is called the Garisenda. Their names derive from the families which are traditionally credited for their construction between 1109 and 1119.

Over the years they’ve been struck by lightning, caught fire, suffered collapses, faced arson, have been used to study earth rotation, used as a sight post during war time and escaped bombing. They’ve also been written about in various literary pieces of note, including the Diving Comedy.

The kids were troopers during the climb (and throughout the meanderings of the day). After making our way back down we wandered through the colonnades, along wide, uncluttered streets – a sharp contrast to Florence and Venice where windy streets are the norm.

Lovely décor, nice shops, cafes, etc. – Bologna is delightful. Eventually we found a café for a bite and some decadent hot chocolate (w/ amaretto). Ham, cheese & salami paninis, too. Then we wandered through the university district – clearly quiet during the break.

We hit several churches (what would Italy be without Catholic churches) during our meanderings, eventually stopping for gelato before relaxing at the hotel.

For dinner we sought out a local pizzeria that was hopping. Joe and I shared the seafood appetizer and it ended up being HUGE. Octopus, squid, cuttlefish, shrimp, lobster tails – it was delicious. I then had the taglietelle ragu (also fabulous), Joe a roasted vegetable pizza and the kids: pasta (shock) and fish.

Great meal and a nice way to start the new year!

New Year's Eve

Today we had our last breakfast in Florence after I’d taken a final walk around Florence – this time around the Pitti Palace and along the Arno. Lovely morning – got it cracking w/ an espresso first thing!

We packed up before heading to the Bargello, which happened to be a two-minute walk from our hotel, to look at three floors of art, mainly sculpture.

About the Bargello:

It was built to house first the Capitano del Popolo and later, in 1261, the 'podestà', the highest magistrate of the Florence City Council. The Palazzo del Podestà, as it was originally called, is the oldest public building in Florence, serving as a model for the construction of the Palazzo Vecchio.

In 1574, the Medici dispensed with the function of the Podestà and housed the bargello, the police chief of Florence, in this building, hence its name. It was employed as a prison; executions took place in the Bargello's yard until they were abolished by Grand Duke Peter Leopold in 1780, but it remained the headquarters of the Florentine police until 1859.

When Holy Roman Emperor Peter Leopold was exiled, the makeshift Governor of Tuscany decided the Bargello should no longer be a jail so it became a national museum.
It opened as such (Museo Nazionale del Bargello) in 1865, displaying the largest Italian collection of gothic and Renaissance sculptures (14–17th century).

The museum houses masterpieces by Michelangelo, including his Bacchus, Pitti Tondo (or Madonna and Child), Brutus and David-Apollo.

Other pieces on display: Donatello's David and St. George Tabernacle , Vincenzo Gemito's Pescatore ("fisherboy") Jacopo Sansovino's Bacco, Giambologna's L’Architettura and his Mercurio and many works from the Della Robbia family. Benvenuto Cellini is represented with his bronze bust of Cosimo I.

The museum has a collection of ceramics (maiolica), textile, tapestries, ivory, silver, armours and old coins. It also features the competing designs on Isaac's Sacrifice (Sacrificio di Isacco) that were performed by Lorenzo Ghiberti and Filippo Brunelleschi to win the contest for the second set of doors of the Florentine Baptistry (1401).

Thoroughly arted out after this experience, we took the kids for another carousel ride and enjoyed lovely weather, window shopped and had a bite at a popular bar in the center of things. I had a stuffed spinach and cheese pizza, kids had paninis and whatever Joe had must not have been memorable for me.

The bars (small cafes) are great lunch spots, generally w/ standing room, lovely marble counters, sometimes small tables/counters w/ stools. It’s fun to watch the Italians chat at the bar over espresso.

After collecting our baggage we cabbed it to the train station and headed to Bologna. Forty-five minutes later we exited and went to our hotel, then were re-directed to a sister hotel due to “technical” problems w/ our room (seem to be plagued by technical hotel problems in Italy – wonder what that means? Shower that doesn’t work? Overbooking? Just didn’t want to clean the room?)

The owner informed us we’d be happier at Hotel Regina anyway – better breakfast, has a bar, nicer property. Nothing like throwing your property under a bus to get rid of us...

Relocated, we relaxed, then headed off to explore – lots of people out and about for new years eve. We found a street market (heated tents make for a good winter outdoor shopping experience), which we perused. Nothing home-worthy but fun to peruse funky jewelry, snacks, trendy clothes, candles, etc.

After wandering the city a bit we stopped for snacks and a drink at a funky little courtyard in the center of bars and shops – water bar, wine bar, beer bar (beer bar? Doesn’t have the right ring to it).

There we played cards, ate some funky puffy crackers, bologna Bolognese style (MUCH better than what I remember of bologna in that red roll, which I think I tried once as a kid and am still tramatized at the memory), ricotta w/ sauce served on a spoon and some kind of crunchy vegetable w/ a lovely mustard sauce on top. Plus prosecco for me, wine for Joe, scotch for the kids (just checking to see if anyone’s reading this). The latter would be sprite.

Eventually we wandered a bit more down Bologna’s wide boulevards, lit gorgeously w/ Christmas décor. For dinner we landed at a local trattoria – Joe tried Bologna’s famed taliatelle w/ ragu (it is NOT served on spaghetti, mind you…)

I had the special fish menu for the new year, which was good – particularly the fruity sauced shrimp starter, potato gratin and tagliatelli w/ fish sauce. The bread at the place was excellent as was the torte, a lovely moist yellow cake w/ rich chocolate frosting.

Our evening ended just after midnight (we all made it to the new year!) We fell asleep to fireworks.

Still catching up on Italy!

Recap: December 30

After perusing the train schedules to Pisa during my morning constitution (doesn’t that sounds like something out of Jane Austen – see I really did gain from that class I took last term…) I returned in time for breakfast. This time we were served at the breakfast nook upstairs – same food, better set up.

We then headed to the train station and were off to Pisa. Once there we picked up a tourist map and walked to the tower, Duomo and Baptistery (conveniently all in one area).

Before exploring them we hit a touristy pizzeria for lunch – kids had a cheese pizza and we opted for salami and tomato/mozzarella appetizers (how much salami can we eat on this trip, I wonder).

Then we hit a gelato place. Only then were we truly ready to check out the leaning tour and all.

Kids under eight can’t go up the tower so we passed on that trek. Instead we hit the Baptistery and Church – both lovely.

The church is a medieval cathedral entitled to Santa Maria Assunta (St. Mary of the Assumption).

Construction on it began in 1063 by the architect Buscheto (originator of the distinctive Pisan Romanesque style in architecture).

The building, as have several in Pisa, has tilted slightly since its construction. (This statement cracked me up – does everything in Pisa lean?)

The Baptistery, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, stands opposite the west end of the Duomo. The round Romanesque building was begun in the mid 12th century and was built in the Romanesque style. It is the largest baptistery in Italy.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa is the campanile, or freestanding bell tower, of the cathedral of the Italian city of Pisa. It is situated behind the Cathedral and is the third oldest structure in Pisa's Cathedral Square (Piazza del Duomo) after the Cathedral and the Baptistry.

Although intended to stand vertically, the tower began leaning to the southeast soon after the onset of construction in 1173 due to a poorly laid foundation and loose substrate that has allowed the foundation to shift direction. The tower presently leans to the southwest. (That begs the question: did it lean in a different direction before?)

From Pisa we hopped the train back to Florence, stopped at the carousel at the Piazza Independente for kid entertainment and ended up back at Aqua 2. (1 tried and true and 2 the beef was SO good…the place was packed and we saw other patrons from our first trip in, so apparently we weren’t the only fans). We ended up sharing a table, which seemed appropo for such a fun, energetic environment.

Again we shared the tasting menu – different salads/pasta, same fabulous beef. Again, the gnocchi was particularly good – red sauce this time.

Tiramisu and chocolate cake w/ raspberry sauce to finish it off.

We turned in for our last night at the infamous apartments, where we heard plenty of noise on the street…lots of people and energy in Florence for the New Year.

The Duomo Climb and great food

Recap: December 29

This a.m. I again took a sleepy Ava into Joe and Claire’s room so I could wander Florence a bit. This time I hiked back up to Michelangelo’s Piazza for a misty morning view of Florence, the Arno, Duomo et al.

En route I passed an older woman with a cart perched on the many steps leading up the hill. She was talking loudly to the 8 cats she was feeding…cans of cat food dumped onto porcelain plates, one for each cat.

I guess everywhere in the world a few old ladies collect a multitude of cats. Let’s hope that never factors into my future.

The view from the piazza was again lovely, and I was the only one there! First for everything.

On the return I stopped for a big, rich, foamy cappuccino at a very hip café. The coffee here and in France is best, I’ve decided. Here they do magical things w/ the foam and in France the espresso is so smooth and rich it doesn’t need milk, it seems. I’ll take either happily.

We then had breakfast in our room – then off to the Duomo again, this time to climb up the 463 steps (I think that’s correct but I must say I didn’t count). The kids did great despite some tight spaces and twists and turns. (Not to mention a lot of legwork.)

At one point our journey opened out just below the paintings inside the dome, which we did our best to absorb. Then we continued our journey upward, eventually spilling out, after scaling what was more like a ladder than steps, onto the top of the cathedral. A lovely, misty above-the-rooftop view.

On the way down we walked around a second viewing “balcony” for an amazing perspective of the marble floor and cathedral environs.

After departing the Duomo we headed back to a café we’d spotted earlier – picturesque little place w/ wooden tables, a big meat and cheese counter, salamis and hams hanging about. It looked delightfully cheery and delicious, was packed when we stopped in for lunch. We joined a few others to wait outside and 10 minutes later were seated.

For lunch we had the house meat and cheese platter w/ olives and we split a mini bottle of chianti (when in Italy…).

The kids were all about their orange fanta, which hovered in a big fluorescent coke machine. We agreed that it was the only thing looming out of place in this quaint, rustic little eatery…just as the flashing red Christmas tree lights around the nativity looked a tad unusual in 14th century Santa Croce…

I must note that India and Italy share some similarities…a little Kmart special mixed in with the historical/classic, emphasis on extended family, men seeming to play a patriarchal role (let’s be real as to who really runs things), fabrics/textiles rein, pride in local specialties, tons of stone/marble in buildings, courtyards abound, gated houses, communities, bike/motorcycle popularity, a bit (understatement of the year) of chaos/disorganization with good sense of humor…

About lunch, though. Our meat and cheese platter came overflowing, with 6 different types of cheese (all fabulous – C & A ate all the buffalo mozzarella), 7 or 8 different meats (parma ham, salamis, all good), foccaccia and a basket of bread and some delicious olives. Oh and toasted bread w/ chicken liver pate which was also quite good.

This meal was served on a lovely ceramic platter…and we were given white plastic plates and cheap plastic cups – cracked me up. Real silverware, though, which came w/ paper napkins, all wrapped in paper bags decorated w/ pictures of smiling utensils.

Definitely our best lunch so far.

While we were there I heard an older Italian gentleman tell the waitress that he makes a point of stopping in for lunch every time he travels to Florence on business from Milan. I can see why.

From there we wandered to the market where the kids were intent on finding a souvenir. Ava opted for a small gold purse that says Ciao Bella Italia, Claire a white leather journal with the symbol of Florence on the front.

We then hit the Accademia, where the David is on display, among other things. And that led us into the evening; we got back to the hotel and relaxed a bit, setting out around 8 for a place around the corner that came recommended. Great wooded interior with high ceiling, lovely old chandelier, red tile floor.

Our waiter was a friendly older man who was in charge of the room, it seemed (the place has 3 or 4 dining areas). I had a delicious vegetable flan dish – one piece cauliflower flavored, one zucchini flavored.

Claire had polenta and parmesan and Ava, pasta and salami. Joe had a delicious soup (I tried it – hearty vegetable) and veal. For dessert the two of us shared the biscotti w/ vin santo (cookie dipped in syrupy dessert wine), kids ordered a piece of chocolate cake that looked out of this world.

We’ve certainly eaten well on this trip. (I have fond memories of Italy 20 years ago, but the restaurant scene is better when you’re not a student opting to save every dime for hostels and train tickets.)

More Italy!!!

Recap: December 28

After leaving Ava to crawl in with Joe and Claire early this a.m., I took a walk around Florence to revisit familiar haunts. So much looked the same: narrow streets, noisy motorbikes and mopeds, small cars zipping in and out, beautifully dressed people window shopping, picking up groceries here and there. Tons of trendy shops, leather leather leather, art art art.

New: fancy recycling and trash receptacles, very cool cafes and internet spots.
And lots of tourists with umbrellas (though it was merely misting).

After breakfast in our room – croissants, yogurt, toast and pastries – we headed for Santa Croce, which was around the corner from our hotel (well placed near churches on this trip).

We spent three hours there – much to see – the church of course, the Medici chapel and 15 other chapels, Michelangelo’s tomb, a big nativity, museum, leather factory and courtyard.

About the Basilica di Santa Croce (Basilica of the Holy Cross): it is the principal Franciscan church in Florence, Italy, and a minor basilica of the Roman Catholic Church. Legend says Santa Croce was founded by St. Francis himself.

In addition to Michelangelo, various other illustrious Italians are buried there, including Galileo and Machiavelli. Thus it is known as the Temple of the Italian Glories.

Many of the chapels in the church are decorated w/ frescoes by Giotto and his pupils.
Construction of the current church began in 1294 and was paid for by some of the city's wealthiest families (isn’t that the case w/ most churches?).

It was consecrated in 1442 by Pope Eugene IV.

Today the former dormitory of the Franciscan Friars houses the Scuola del Cuoio (Leather School). Thus visitors can watch artisans craft purses, wallets, and other leather goods, which are sold in the adjacent shop. (We watched, didn’t leave w/ a bunch of leather, though.)
From Santa Croce we caught a bite at a nearby bar – I had incredibly tasty spinach ravioli in a lovely tomato cream sauce, kids had paninis, Joe pizza. Then we checked out the Duomo and Baptistery doors.

Santa Maria del Fiore (the Duomo) is the cathedral of Florence. Known for its distinctive Renaissance dome, its name (Saint Mary of the Flower) refers to the lily, the symbol of Florence. The Gothic cathedral complex includes the Duomo, the famous baptistery and a campanile.

The cathedral, the third to be built in Florence, was built on the site of the previous one, Santa Reparata, prompted by the magnificence of the new cathedrals in Pisa and Siena.

It was designed by Arnolfo di Cambio in 1294 to be the largest Roman Catholic church in the world (although the design was later reduced in size), with the first stone laid on September 8, 1296.

Work on the cathedral was on and off until 1418, when only the dome was incomplete.
In 1418 a competition was held to design this part, with Brunelleschi winning the competition with his distinctive octagonal design. Construction was completed in 1436 and the cathedral was consecrated by Pope Eugenius IV on March 25, 1436.

It was the first 'octagonal' dome in history to be built without a wooden supporting frame (the Pantheon, a circular dome, was built in 118-128 AD without support structures), and was the largest dome built at the time (it is still the largest masonry dome in the world).

The dome also used horizontal reinforcements of tension chains of stone and iron - paving way to the imaginations of iron and steel structural reinforcements, such as reinforced concrete in later centuries.

Brunelleschi's ability to crown the dome with a lantern was questioned and he had to undergo another competition. The lantern was begun a few months before his death in 1446 and was completed by his friend Michelozzo. A huge statue of Brunelleschi now sits outside the Palazzo dei Canonici in the Piazza del Duomo, looking thoughtfully up towards his greatest achievement. (I took a photo of the kids in front of Brunelleschi looking up at his dome.)

From the Duomo we did some window shopping, strolling about the lovely city, decorated so beautifully for Christmas.

Then we landed at yet another church (3 in one day. That must let us off the hook for…what…Purgatory? Oh come on, God has a sense of humor. He must. Look at some of his creations.)

So anyway. Santa Maria Novella:

Chronologically, it is the first great basilica in Florence, and is the city's principal Dominican church.

The church boasts especially famous frescoes by masters of Gothic and early Renaissance, financed through the generosity of the most important Florentine families, who ensured themselves of funerary chapels on consecrated ground.

The church was called Novella (New) because it was built on the site of the 9th-century oratory of Santa Maria delle Vigne. When the site was assigned to Dominican Order in 1221, they decided to build a new church and an adjoining cloister.
Building on the church began in the mid-13th century and was finished about 1360 and consecrated in 1420.

Santa Maria Novella is full of amazing artwork by Renaissance masters, but this I thought particularly interesting: the pulpit was designed by Brunelleschi (Duomo architect extraordinaire) and executed by his adopted child Andrea Calvalcanti. It was from this pulpit the first attack came on Galileo Galilei, leading eventually to his indictment. Galileo probably didn’t have a warm fuzzy feeling about Santa Maria Novella.

Finally, on the topic of Santa Maria Novella, the square in front the church was used by Cosimo I for the yearly chariot race (Palio dei Cocchi). This custom existed between 1563 and late in the 19th century.

Churched out, we wandered back to our hotel for a bit of R&R, then stepped out for dinner at Aqua al 2, which was fabulous. Joe and I had the tasting menu so we got to try 3 different types of salad, one with mozzarella di buffalo and tomato, the other two with delicious dressings and a variety of fresh greens. Then five different small plates of pasta came out, gnocchi with gorgonzola (my favorite), some tube like shape with vodka sauce, another w/ eggplant…all excellent.

Then we were served three portions of steak, each done differently – one w/ balsamic sauce, one w/ blueberry sauce and the last on foccaccia with rosemary. My favorite was the blueberry.

For dessert the girls were invited to go with the waitress to choose…they opted for chocolate cake and tiramisu. No shortage of either on this trip.

Venice to Florence

Recap of December 27

I got up early this morning and took a long walk along the Grand Canal, then into town and back to the water’s edge and a lovely park.

I might note that I was one of a handful in tennis shoes deliberately seeking exercise…the Italians of course have lovely leather footwear and don’t bother working up a sweat on purpose.

It was a lovely morning with a few boats just getting a move on. When we left the hotel (might I add that the panettone and jam-filled muffins at the hotel were particularly good, as was the brie) plenty of tourists were in the piazza – the most we’d seen so far.

We were in Venice at a delightful time, uncrowded, quiet, glittering lights on placid water, crisp and mostly sunny. Magical.

We picked up the water bus for a leisurely ride to the train station – we hit every stop en route, I think, but with plenty of time it was a picturesque journey past palazzi, the Guggenheim, the Accademia and Rialto. Upon arrival at the station we were told our train was leaving imminently – apparently we were ticketed for a station one stop away but we got on anyway and it worked out fine.

Two hours later we got off in Florence. Several calls later, to no avail, we didn’t reach our apartment contact so set off via cab. At the address we were stumped, no one to let us in so we hit a nearby pizzeria for lunch and made more calls.

Eventually we reached our accommodations people, so once done with seafood salad and pizza we made our way to a different apartment. Incidentally, the cab driver who whisked us from pizzeria “parked” to pick us up by planting his car at a diagonal in the middle of the street to block all traffic while getting us in the car…

What we ended up with for a hotel wasn’t ideal: separate rooms, wherein Joe and I split up to room w/ the girls. (Fast forward a few years and this would have been a great set up…) Apparently the former poreperty had technical issues, whatever that might mean.

Central location, nice property and really, we’d spent enough time getting into this one. So we headed off to enjoy the warm weather and a lovely sunset at Piazza Michelangelo. This lovely spot is on a hill overlooking the city, so is a bit of a climb but well worth it.

FYI: Designed in 1869 by Florentine architect Giuseppe Poggi, Piazzale Michelangelo was created as part of major restructuring of the city walls in 1869. Poggi designed a monument base dedicated to Michelangelo, where copies of Michelangelo's works, including the David and Medici chapel sculptures from San Lorenzo would be displayed. When the terrace was finished, Poggi designed the hillside building with loggia as a museum for Michelangelo's works. However, Poggi's project never became a museum…it is now a restaurant.

From the Piazzale we wandered to the Ponte Vecchio, a Medieval bridge over the Arno River. It is noted for still having shops built along it as was once common. Butchers initially occupied the shops; the present tenants are jewelers, art dealers and souvenir sellers. It has been described as Europe's oldest wholly-stone, closed-spandrel segmental arch bridge. Apparently that's a lie; there are older structures of same make up.

We then wandered around town, enjoying the lovely Christmas lights and the festive feeling in the city as many people were out for early evening strolls.

Eventually we ended up at a lovely little cellar restaurant – Giuseppe’s. We were early but were invited to come in and enjoy the ambience – warm brick interior with wooden table and walls filled with photos of celebrity types and the restaurant owner.

Apparently we’d stumbled on a hot ticket (or the place wanted us to think it was).
While we tracked down the restroom we found the staff eating dinner and it looked/smelled delicious. As was the case, we soon found. It filled up quickly, too, with a mix of locals/tourists. I had a fabulous eggplant tart, Joe had veal, which he seemed to very much enjoy. (Note: I've eaten more eggplant since leaving the U.S. that I would ever imagined -- it's popular in India, the UK, Italy, no doubt France (though who knows -- I couldn't read the menu there).

The kids had no complaints about their pasta at Giuseppe's, either.

For dessert we enjoyed gelato at a bar near the Duomo. Very nice way to end the evening, and my roommate for the night: Ava.

Birthday in Venice!

So there we were in Venice on December 26, which happens to be Claire’s birthday. Not a bad place to turn eight, methinks. (Though allow me not to delude myself; chuck-e cheese would hold just as much appeal.)

We started off the day at the Doge’s Palace after a laidback breakfast at Hotel Concordia. Three hours into the Palace we met up at the palace café – Ava and I had gone one way, Claire and Joe another. The place is immense and the audio guide goes on forever. At some point even I got overload and just wanted out but the maze of rooms, dungeon and staircases seemed to go on forever.

About the Doge’s:

A gothic palace in Venice, it's called the Palazzo Ducale di Venezia. The palace was the residence of the Doge of Venice.

Its two most visible facades look towards the Venetian Lagoon and St Mark's Square (the Piazzetta). The current palace was largely constructed from 1309 to 1424, designed perhaps by Filippo Calendario. It replaced earlier fortified buildings of which relatively little is known.

The palace was badly damaged by fire in 1574. In the subsequent rebuilding work it was decided to respect the original Gothic style, despite the submission of a neo-classical alternative design by Palladio. However, there are some classical features, i.e. since the sixteenth century the palace has been linked to the prison by the Bridge of Sighs.

As well as being the ducal residence, the palace housed political institutions of the Republic of Venice until the Napoleonic occupation of the city. Venice was ruled by an aristocratic elite, but there was a facility for citizens to submit written complaints at what was known as the Bussola chamber.

Eventually we surfaced to find the other half eating tiramisu and drinking fancy hot chocolate in the warm, brick/stone café. Emphasis on warm; the palace was a chilly experience. Imagine being imprisoned on wet cement during the winter, then trying to survive the opposite extreme: gross heat and humidity in August. Not to mention a continual influx of water.

The fancy hot chocolate was laced w/ alcohol – Joe’s amaretto version hit the spot so I tried the Baileys version. I highly recommend both.

From the Doge’s we headed to a boat taxi and Burano, an island knows for lacemaking. En route we had great views – the water, Venetian architecture, other boats -- all framed by mountains in the distance.

At Burano we found pituresque, brightly painted houses on the banks of lovely canals. We caught a snack at a bar that was busy with plenty of locals. After soom tasty paninis Ava and I did some birthday shopping for Claire; she chose a lovely blue mask for her sister.

We also found a pretty tablecloth and napkins to take home for a family souvenir.
Then back to Venice via another nice, relaxing boatride, lovely with the sun setting and lights sparkling on the water. We had a short re-group at the hotel, then went in quest of Osteria Zucca, which I’d researched for the birthday dinner.

Again, we hopped a boat taxi, this time from the Rialto. Our map led us astray but a very gracious Venetian lady showed us the way to Zucca (which means pumpkin, incidentally).

In a nod to the name, Zucca is a lovely little restaurant with subtle pumpkin décor. Joe and I shared the house specialty, a delicious savory pumpkin tort (appetizer). I had a fabulous vegetable entrée, he had lamb and the kids surprised us by ordering…pasta.

Claire opened a few gifts and enjoyed chocolate mousse with a candle in it. Restaurant patrons from Germany and England joined us and the Italian waitstaff in singing Happy Birthday to her.

The mousse was excellent, we decided, as was the pistachio chocolate torte we tried.

A very nice birthday experience and one we hope she’ll remember fondly.

Afterward we meandered Venice’s windy streets back to the hotel as quickly as the boating experience had taken.

New Year, New Fridge

Well we’ve had an auspicious start to the New Year. Firecrackers, frescoes and REALLY good food in Italy -- and a new refrigerator under our tree. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration I suppose. It was hard enough getting the thing in the house, let alone under anything.

My friends from John Lewis tripped over yesterday to deliver a nice-looking silver mammoth (it’s actually a moderately sized appliance, bigger than most English versions, I guess). Happily I found one that is not a side-by-side, that fits the space, that does make ice (must keep husband happy) and that appears, at least so far, fingers crossed, to be working.

My diatribe on side-by-sides: (not a bad way to start the day, I’ve decided – a diatribe here and there)

I’ve grown to abhor side-by-sides, largely due to the lemon I watched being dragged out the front door yesterday.

But I also find the style comes up short -- the way I use a fridge (last several months aside, of course) – popping in the occasional cookie sheet for a quick freeze, finding a home for a turkey, pan and all, etc., I find the standard version more cook-friendly.

So here we have a fridge on top, freezer bottom model that was COLD inside when I checked on it this morning. Now I will spend the day deciding what to name it and how to coddle it…

On that note, back to Italy. Though I must also mention that I read yesterday how we’re having a record cold winter in London. Handy for my patio refrigeration back up, I must say. And as long as the heat continues to work, the sun shines and my collection of wool sweaters grows, I can handle the chill!

Christmas Day in Venice

We woke to hear copious amounts of sloshing this Christmas Day. The street below our room had to be negotiated with waders; apparently the hotel has plenty on hand for such occasions. (Frankly we all slept in, therein negating the need for any hiplength boots on our part.)

I started my Christmas Day 2009 with a cappuccino and Christmas carols in the hotel lounge, then took a nice long Christmas walk, something I think I’ve done most Christmases. It’s always a nice, quiet day to begin the day’s celebration, which is guaranteed to get noisier (in a good way) later.

A new Italian men were out and about, walking dogs or smoking.

We caught the tail end of breakfast – just love the coffee here, and who doesn’t like great brie?

We then hit noon Mass, a short walk around the corner to the Mass entrance of St. Mark’s Cathedral. It was in Italian but let’s face it, Mass is formulaic, so we got the gist. And we were out in 50 minutes; maybe these Italians could pass on some tips to the NC and TX Fathers?

Don’t I sound holy today. Well, it’s early and I haven’t had a lot of coffee. Maybe you’ll catch me w/ rosary beads later.

From Mass we made our way to Harry’s Bar, a legend in Venice and the birthplace of the Bellini. We hopped on bar stools amid a festive crowd of Italians, many with small dogs in sweaters. (Dogs abound here in Venice; maybe since you can’t use scooters, cars or bikes you go in for pets?)

We toasted the New Year, kids with sprite, Joe with champagne and me with, naturally, a Bellini. Very tasty, I might add.

Then we wandered Venice, eventually finding a snack at a touristy restaurant. Cheese pizza and mozzarella salad for us. We checked out a church here and there, some shops, stopped at a candy shop for a treat, and just enjoyed strolling with others out for their Christmas walk.

After some card games at the hotel we set out via water bus to a different part of a town for Christmas dinner at a restaurant recommended to us by our glass factory friends.

The place serves fabulous seafood – and treated us well for our holiday with a glass of prosecco and fish spread and polenta appetizer on the house. Joe and I shared the specialty of the house, a huge fish dish – mix of shrimp, white fish, squid & mussels over incredibly good, spicy pasta.

Ava had shrimp and pasta, and Claire stuck w/ the tried and true: olive oil and parm over noodles.

For dessert we enjoyed tiramisu.

Our boat road home was a delight in and of itself, with lights sparkling beautifully on the water. Venice is magical this time of year.

Ok I interrupt this Italian diatribe to note that there should be something called Mass etiquette. Per esempio (thought I’d throw in the foreign lingo…why not?):
Yesterday I cringed as an older gentleman directly behind me hacked, sneezed and blew his way through Mass, then at the sign of peace reached out his hand to infect everyone around him.

Ugh. And I’m (truly) not one who is paranoid about germs. (In fact, my theory is the more you worry about getting something, the more likely it will sneak in to sabotage your immune system.)

BUT there is a limit to sharing one’s disease without a second thought. (I suspect even the priest would prefer if the man recovered at home before bestowing blessings of peace to the congregation. I do recall Father Don recommending never to put holy water under a microscope…)

Ok done w/ my diatribe (next time it will be nose pickers on the tube – just kidding!).

Back to Italy…

Our Christmas Eve started off with a lie-in (love that British expression for sleeping in). We did scramble to make the hotel breakfast before it closed at 10 – breads, coffee, hot chocolate, fruit, cheese and prosciutto – all in a dining room looking out onto Saint Mark’s Cathedral. Not bad.

Our agenda for the morning: a 10:30 excursion to Murano, where they make the famed glass. It was an overcast day – warmer than when we landed, though, so it felt good to stand on the boat and be windblown as we were motored over. Lovely lights were sprinkled throughout the bay, think fancy streetlights.

Twenty minutes later we were delivered to the glass factory, the kids lifted in and out of the boat by our competent, friendly Italian boat driver. (Does one captain a motorboat?)

We entered a toasty warm workshop with huge ovens in back, a furnace closer to us and a “master” at work. He illustrated how he makes objects d’arte from a bright orange blog of melted sand. The sand is, incidentally, very fine, a cheap, local raw material.

Clearly the orange blob was very hot and malleable – he used a long iron handle to hold it away from him and metal tongs with which to shape it. One object he made quickly before us was a vase, which he blew into to create.

The second piece he made was a horse with rainblow-colored mane.

Apparently to yield color in the glass other metallic properties are mixed with the sand. How they blend to create color is often a surprise to the master, as they appear clear until fired.

I think we were told it takes two days for the glass to cool completely after the firing process.

From the workshop we were escorted into a dozen rooms of the mega showroom. No shortage of items to buy (from dishes and wall art to vases and any kind of figuring you might imagine). The “Masters” – about 15 of them currently – are all men living on the island. Each has continued a family legacy of glass art work, something Murano has been famed for since 1291.

Apparently the island was a commercial port dating to the 7th Century, and by the 10th Century it had grown into a prosperous trading center with its own coins, police force and commercial aristocracy. In 1291 the Venetian Republic ordered glassmakers to move their foundries to Murano because the glassworks represented a fire danger in Venice, whose buildings were mostly wooden at the time.

Murano's glassmakers became the leading citizens on the island and were granted the right to wear swords and immunity from prosecution by the high-handed Venetian state. By the late 14th Century the daughters of glassmakers were allowed to marry into Venice's blue-blooded families. (Per my web research, this is apparently the equivalent of Archie Bunker's daughter being invited to wed a Cabot or a Peabody – LOL!)

BUT glassmakers could not leave the Republic, threatened w/ assassination or having his hands cut off by the secret police (apparently in reality most defectors weren't treated so harshly).

What made Murano's glassmakers so special? For one thing, they were the only people in Europe who knew how to make glass mirrors. They also developed or refined technologies such as crystalline glass, enameled glass (smalto), glass with threads of gold (aventurine), multicolored glass (millefiori), milk glass (lattimo), and imitation gemstones made of glass. Their virtual monopoly on quality glass lasted for centuries, until glassmakers in Northern and Central Europe introduced new techniques and fashions around the same time that colonists were emigrating to the New World.

How’s that for cool?

Claire unfortunately got too close and personal with a small horse statue that she didn’t realize was a lot heavier than it looked (some of these pieces are really weighty). It met its demise.

After much deliberation we purchased a colorful clown that we’ll see back in London sometime in the new year. No need to shlep that heavy chunk of art around Italy! The kids also received small gifts of little clear glass horses like those made during the demo.

Incidentally, we were told each piece has to be completed from start to finish on the same day, while the glass is hot and malleable…no setting it aside and reheating.

Back to Venice we then went, leaving off the horses at the hotel. We marched off to find lunch, taking a quick walk through Saint Mark’s first (we’d neglected the main body of the church the previous day, having had enough cathedral time and not enough food!).

The building is truly amazing. Appropriately, a gorgeous glass nativity secene was on display.

One point on San Marco – everywhere you turn you’re being nickled and dimed, 3 euros to see the treasures, 2 for an upclose view of the altar (they even have a turnstyle nearby to ensure you don’t sneak a close peak!).

No doubt our monsignor in North Carolina would have been able to build the church sooner if he’d charged everyone admission to see…what? The gym floor in the temporary church?!? Not as powerful attraction as Venice’s riches, I guess.

For lunch we found another bar for sandwiches and pizza, then meandered through the streets and over bridges to another part of town, where the Guggenheim is (en route we found small cannolis and tiramisu bites, delish!).

The Guggenheim -- fabulous place; I highly recommend it.

The collection holds major works of Cubism, Futurism, Metaphysical painting, European abstraction, avant-garde sculpture, Surrealism, and American Abstract Expressionism, by some of the greatest artists of the 20th century. Picasso, Braque, Duchamp, Léger, Brancusi, Severini, Picabia, Mondrian, Kandinsky, Miró , Giacometti, Klee, Ernst, Dalí, Pollock and more…

The museum is supposedly the ”most important museum in Italy for European and American art of the first half of the 20th century.”

Claire and I did the audio guide tour, which was very well done, I might also add.

After wandering back through the rain (not much more than a heavy sprinkle, though Italians w/ umbrellas were out in full force, as were all the umbrella hawkers) we landed at the hotel to relax before dinner.

The walking platforms were being set up as made our way back; high water was expected. When we headed to dinner, a restaurant we’d been recommended to try by two different Venetians, we saw shop owners boarding their doorways to prevent water encroachment.

Dinner was at Aciugheta, a casual little restaurant in the corner of a nearby square – brick interior with kitchen and bar in the middle. I had a delicious tagliatelle dish (black noodles) with squid, zucchini and tomatoes. The fresh pasta here is fabulous. (Yes, there is a difference, a big one!).

We went to bed wondering what the street outside our hotel would look like in the morning…

Incidentally, the kids love these boardwalks that are left up here and there around San Marco and in other areas where the tide brings water in at night. When I think of Venice I'll remember Claire and Ava running up and down them, dodging the Asian tourists.

Happy New Year!

Woo hoo we’re back from Italy! And good thing too; with all that good food and wine I’d soon have to roll home.

What a great vacation: Venice, Florence and Bologna. (Yes, Bologna, poor old underrated Bologna – loved it!).

This week I’ll do my best to capture our travels via blog, so here’s my Sunday start – with wishes for a wonderful 2010!

To Venice we went on December 23.

After shlepping out at the crack of dawn, ready for an icy one hour+ cab ride to Heathrow (cold temps had followed our very wet snow just before Christmas), we got there in 30 minutes (safely, too!).

And after making our way through a maze of lines, then being pulled out by a Biritish Airways woman trying to do us a favor as we were traveling w/ kids, we were sent us to an area w/ no lines. Wherein we dropped our bags with a woman who made it quite clear we weren’t at a bag drop...

Happily, these bags did roll off the carousel in Venice.

After breakfast at Giraffe (apparently one of those must do kid eateries that we hadn’t yet done), a delayed bus to a delayed plane and then a wait on de-icing, we were off!

We rolled in not long after schedule to a lovely day in Venice – blue skies and crisp. We were taken by van to a private water taxi for a gorgeous entry into the city (and auspicious hotel drop off).

We stood at the back of the boat and enjoyed weaving through canals, passing palaces and churches, bridges and gondolas, the occasional trash barge…and wound up at the Hotel Concordia (a short walk from our canal drop off).

After checking in with drinks in the lobby, we headed to St. Mark – THE famed Venetian Cathedral.

St Mark's Basilica (Basilica di San Marco) is one of the best examples of Byzantine architecture in the world. Adjoining the Doge's Palace, San Marco has been the seat of the Archbishop of Venice since 1807.

The first St. Mark's church in Venice was a temporary building in the Doge’s Palace, constructed in 828, when Venetian merchants stole the supposed relics of Saint Mark the Evangelist from its original resting place in Alexandria, Egypt.

It is said the Venetians hid the relics in a barrel under layers of pork to get them past Muslim guards. The escapade is depicted in the 13th-century mosaic above the door farthest left of the front entrance of the Basilica.

The original St. Mark's church was replaced by a new one on the present site in 832. The new church was burned in a rebellion in 976, rebuilt in 978, and the basis of the present basilica was formed in 1063.

It was consecrated in 1094, the same year the body of Saint Mark was supposedly rediscovered in a pillar by Vitale Falier, doge of Venice at the time.

While the basic structure of the building has been little altered, its decoration changed greatly over time. The succeeding centuries, especially the fourteenth, all contributed to its adornment, and seldom did a Venetian vessel return from the Orient without bringing a column, capitals, or friezes, taken from some ancient building, to add to the fabric of the basilica.

St. Mark's Basilica is designed on a Greek cross floor plan and modeled after Constantine's Church of the Holy Apostles (now destroyed) and the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. Inside are gilded mosaics that cover the walls and ceilings — around 8,000 square meters of them!

The 12th-century interior mosaics recount events of the New Testament; the 13th-century mosaics depict scenes from the Old Testament. Other stories depicted through mosaics include the story of the Virgin, the martyrdoms of St. Peter and St. Clement, and events in the lives of St. John the Evangelist, St. John the Baptist and St. Isadore, the great pantheon of saints venerated by the Venetians and of course -- and most important -- St. Mark.

The impressive gold background symbolizes the Divine and the light of God himself.

The intricately-patterned floor is a 12th-century mixture of mosaic and marble in geometric patterns and animal designs. A red medallion in the floor inside the main door marks the spot where, in 1177, Doge Sebastiano Ziani orchestrated the reconciliation between Barbarossa, the Holy Roman Emperor, and Pope Alexander III.

Over the high altar is a baldacchino on columns decorated with 11th-century reliefs. The altarpiece is the famous Pala d'Oro (Golden Pall), a panel of gold embedded with gems. It was commissioned from Byzantine goldsmiths in 976 and further embellished over the centuries. Napoleon stole some of the precious stones in 1797, but there are still plenty left, gleaming behind protective glass.

The Horses of Saint Mark were installed on the basilica in 1254. They date to Classical Antiquity; by some accounts they once adorned the Arch of Trajan. The horses were long displayed at the Hippodrome of Constantinople, and in 1204 Doge Enrico Dandolo sent them back to Venice as part of the loot sacked from Constantinople (Istanbul) in the Fourth Crusade.

They were taken by Napoleon in 1797, restored in 1815 and remained in place until the 1990s. They now reside in the basilica's museum in an upper gallery; replicas take their place on the facade.

We went through the museum portion of the cathedral, saw these lovely horses, among other things, and walked around the outside of the façade, where the replicas are displayed. Lovely view of the square and Grand Canal, the Doges Palace, and of course a unique view of the outside of the cathedral.

We then let hunger dictate our next move; after wandering through narrow streets and passageways, past a couple small outdoor markets, we found a bar (café) near the Rialto (famous bridge and Venice’s city centre). There we enjoyed grilled paninis, prosecco and red wine. Not a bad way to start our Italian adventure.

Busy with locals and tourists, the bar had a happy buzz to it. We then checked out the area around the Rialto and eventually wandered back to the hotel for a break. I set out to explore some more and get some exercise – such a wonderful city to wander.

For dinner we tried a lovely little enoteca (wine bar/restaurant) not far from St. Mark’s Square. Wooded, with candlelit tables, friendly waiters who were great w/ the kids and delicious food – I had fried fish and shrimp, Joe tried black lasagna (flavored w/ squid, I think), kids had their pasta (the start of an 11 day trend on this trip…) – though they both made off with some of my fish.

The best: a warm chocolate cake with eggnog sauce and tiramisu for dessert. The latter was the best we had on the trip, and we did try plenty of tiramisus in our wanderings!