Goodbye

Goodbye comes to our household more than I would like, and it always takes with it my handsome husband. It takes with it my security at night...strange sounds always sound scarier when you realize that YOU'RE the one who has to protect the family if anyone breaks in. Goodbye takes with it my desire to cook big meals (and Wes and I live for months on tacos, sandwiches, salads, yogurt, cereal and fruit) because Kevin's not there to ooh and aah over my latest culinary experiment, and Wes mostly throws it on the floor. Goodbye steals the warmth from the sheets at night and I always wake up cold. Goodbye brings tears to my eyes when I'm in the privacy of my own home and a "brave" smiling face when I'm not. Goodbye brings a flurry of activity and service projects to keep my mind occupied. It steals away late night conversation and cuddling.

Goodbye does give sometimes too. Goodbye lessens my ice-cream cravings (I only eat the stuff when Kevin is home). It cuts the laundry by a third. Goodbye gives me the car to drive around and see the countryside at will. Goodbye gives me stacks and stacks of wonderful email to read from my beloved (this is the very best part). Goodbye gives me strength (what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?). Goodbye makes me rely on God more than I ever would otherwise. Goodbye makes me patient.

Goodbye. An enemy and a friend. Dreaded, yet necessary. Goodbye, my offering to my country, unwillingly, but resignedly. Goodbye, my husband, my truest friend, I love you and I'll see you again.

London Shows

Ireland- March 3-7, 2009

Ireland. The Emerald Isle. This is a place we've both wanted to visit since, well, we've seen Tom Cruise fall in love with Nicole Kidman in Far and Away. Teri discovered that some of her family originated from Ireland and it added fuel to the fire. We booked our tickets, made reservations at a condo near Limerick and headed out to greener pastures...literally. I've never seen so much green in my life...and it was still technically winter in Ireland. In fact, our first day there, it snowed!

Kevin gave Wes and I the window seat, as usual. I've tried to let him sit there, but he never takes me up on my offer. Our first visions of Ireland were minutes before the plane landed. We decended through a thick grey cloud and suddenly, laid out before us was a vast patch-work of beautiful green land. We landed at Shannon and acquired our rental car...a tiny bug of an automobile (and boy, were we glad it was small on THESE roads!) and headed for our condo in Bodyke...a small golfing town in County Clare. I was smart enough this time to get an automatic, but it was still a harrowing experience sometimes. In Ireland, ancient stone walls line every road on the west coast. The vegetation then has covered these stone walls. So, it looks as though you are driving through cliffs of vegetation with zero mess-up room on either side. It was terrifying at first to be the passenger and see this 5-7 foot wall of green whizzing past your window, inches from the side-view mirrors. Kevin navigated the roads very well again...but agreed to drive on our next family adventure.

Since it was snowing when we got there, and since we were expecting our friends to arrive a little later in the after noon, we spent our first day, Tuesday, driving around the immediate area looking for a grocery store and an ATM. We found both of these just 10 minutes from the condo. We also found a yummy kebab shop that we visited a few times later in the week. After grabbing groceries, we headed back to the condo to start dinner for our travel weary friends. We ate and enjoyed...but we all went to bed early tonight. It was freezing and we were all tired.

Day 2 took us to the Cliffs of Moher. One of my favorite things to see. 200 feet of sheer rocky drop off into the Atlantic ocean. It was snowing at the condo, raining when we got to the Cliffs, and freezing cold in both places. The kids' lips started turning blue just minutes after starting the stroll along the tops of the cliffs. Wes's teeth chattered and his eyes watered the entire time. We kept trying to block the wind, but to no avail. If it were a sunny day, it would have been a lovely place to spend the day, have a picnic, and let the kids run around. As it was though, we had to turn in early to keep everyone from getting frost bite. So, instead we just ended up with a minor case of wind burn.

The rest of the day was spent driving around. We tried to see the small town of Doolin and catch some traditional Celtic music. Umm...that didn't start until 9pm. A no go with small children. Then, we wanted to know if we could catch a ferry to the Aran Islands. Um, they don't run the ferries until after Easter. The sea is too stormy. Then, our friend Shawn picked out a site in the Burren, Polnabronne, a 5,000 year old portal tomb in the middle of nowhere and we decided to go see it.

When we pulled up, after winding through some of the most barren (and might I say ugly???) landscape I've ever seen on some of the craziest roads I've ever driven, Shawn jumps out to look at the little leaning rock pile and says "Is this it???". He promptly hopped back in the car without so much as coming and taking a picture. His wife, Kim came with us to check it out. It was a pile of rocks. We read the signs about its history, and still weren't overly impressed. We snapped some shots, but ultimately, we were glad to head home.

Tonight we played games, ate Chicken Tikka Masala and had a good time. I was a wimp and went to bed at eleven. Everyone else was up way later.

The next morning, we split up. Kevin, Weslee and I went to the Eastern side of Ireland to see Bru na Boinne, another very old prehistoric tomb. It was ALOT cooler than the one the day before. We were glad we went. And, we got to tour a museum about the prehistoric peoples that dwelt in Ireland...how they lived, ate, worshipped. It was fascinating. Each year at the winter solstice, the sun shines through the portal of the tomb and lights the place up. Each year, hundreds of people put their names in a lottery hoping to be chosen to see the lighting of the tomb. We put our names in the hat...we'll see what happens. It would be cool to see, and it would be nice to get to see Dublin or some more of the East coast the next time. As it was, we spent too much time at the tombs to really see much of anything else.

On our way home, we stopped by Trim Castle. We stopped there mainly because of our good friend Elder Trim. We wanted to take some pictures for him and show him how important he was. :) A beautiful ruin of a castle, surrounded by a moat, I walked around it for over an hour taking pictures. On the hill top, where the ruin of the abbey was situated, you could see the entire town, the entire castle, and the rain rolling in in the distance. It was a lovely place to sit and think (which several University students were taking advantage of) or stroll with your dog or loved one or both. A peaceful place. But, as we learned more about the castle, it was anything but a peaceful place in its heyday. Trim was the stronghold of the Normans. It was meant to protect the Normans from the fierce Gaelic people. It was made large and imposing to intimidate the Gaelics...but it didn't stop frequent attacks. Because Trim was a center of trade, the Gaelics often attacked the surrounding people. I'm sure people weren't strolling around the castle with their dogs during those days.

Day 4 was my favorite day of all. We headed south in the rain to visit Blarney Castle and kiss the Blarney stone. Today had special importance for me because of who had built the castle. The Mac Arthur clan built the castle to control the southern portion of Ireland. My ancestors, the O'Sullivans were Lords of Beare and Bantry under the Mac Arthurs. They would have come to this castle to discuss wars, lands, and other governing issues with their king. I could imagine my ancestors in the great dining hall talking with other lords and ladies, in the guest quarters, and in the nasty indoor toilets doing their business (gross, I know)...especially when you realize that their "business" rolled down the side of the castle onto the ground below. As Wes would say...."Ewwwwwww". We climbed to the very top of the castle and hung upside down to press our lips to the famous Stone of Eloquence. I had great hopes for myself after kissing the Blarney Stone...but I will say, to the disappointment of many, it didn't improve the eloquence of either Kevin or I. Just minutes after kissing it, we were still our same sarcastic selves.

We spent some time roaming around the gardens, imagining what they will look like in the spring. The trees and shrubs were just starting to show signs of life, but it would be many more weeks before the full beauty of the place is known.

We spent the last of our day driving through Killarney National Park. I SO WISH it hadn't been so grey and cloudy today. The visibility was poor, but what we saw of the park was gorgeous. We went home to console ourselves with several hours of board games and fun with our friends, the Hatches.

The next morning, we got up and checked out of the condo and went our separate ways again. Our family headed to County Tipperary to see the Rock of Cashel, a medieval fortress/church set up on a hill. Weslee loved our visit to this place because he got to run around amongst the ancient tombs and crosses. Kevin chased him all over the place, threw him in the air, tickled him to death...and in general, made Weslee's day. I had a WONDERFUL time taking pictures. What a beautiful place. Black birds were swooping all over the place and flying around like a storm cloud above the church and tower.

We headed next to the 1848 Wartime Famine Museum. It was out in the middle of nowhere. We mostly went to learn more about the famine. It talked a great deal about the rebellions in Ireland that were exacerbated by the famine that brought thousands of Irish immigrants to the United States and elsewhere. I can't imagine living in such circumstances. We found out that while the potato blight hit all of Europe, the Irish were the only ones who faced a famine, because they were the only ones who's primary food source was potatoes...not wheat or corn. We also found out that during the famine, Ireland was still exporting millions of pounds of corn. There was enough food for all of Ireland's people...the gentry just prefered to line their pockets with gold instead of look out for the poor. It was a sad tale of the natural man overrulling the commandments of God.

After the museum, we went to Limmerick for dinner. We had hoped to eat in a pub...but apparently, the pubs in Limmerick are more like an American bar and less like an English pub where families are welcome and good, cheap food is served. The only family pub we found cooked American cuisine and charged an arm and a leg. We decided we'd rather have kabobs and ended our Irish experience. We headed to the airport to await our plane back home.

Our favorite things about Ireland: THE PEOPLE. Some of the friendliest people we've ever met live in Ireland. They mill about the towns in large crowds, talking loudly and smiling broadly. They are helpful, and not at all reserved and stuffy like the British. We also really enjoyed the roads. They were scary at times, but totally unique to Ireland. The rock walls and greenery hugging the pavement as it whizzes past your car were a sight to behold. And last, the company. The best decision we ever made was to make this trip with friends. We enjoyed seeing the sights with the Hatch's and playing board games until the late hours of the night.

Pisa, Italy- February 7, 2009

We awoke to a gorgeous, sunny day...our last day in Italy. We loaded the car and got ready to check out around 10 am. The check out was an omen of things to come today. The landlord we had talked to on Tuesday, Frederico, was gone already and his mother checked us out. We were charged WAY too much for gas and electricity usage and then charged an unexpected cleaning fee on top of it all. It was still a good deal for the condo, but it left a bad taste in both of our mouths. And, it was hard to argue with someone who barely spoke English. We paid, and left somewhat frustrated.

On our way out, Kevin stopped at a cemetary I had often looked at on our way to Florence. It looked like something out of Romeo and Juliet to me. The grounds were covered in white marble crosses. It was beautiful. I took alot of pictures while Kevin and Weslee waited in the car.

We decided to head to Pisa and see the leaning tower before we had to return the car and catch our flight home. We got to Pisa and got lost. We had a hard time finding parking, and all the while, the sky was starting to darken. Rain was once again threatening our sight-seeing. We finally found a place to park and headed up to the ticket counter. Weslee wasn't allowed at the top of the tower, so we took turns hiking up to the very top.

Kevin had me go first so that I could get shots of the city and cathedral before the rain clouds moved in. It was so cool to look down so far and see Weslee chasing the pigeons down the sidewalk. Kevin had me wave from the top so that he could catch me on video. The coolest part about climbing up the tower was that it felt almost like you were going down-hill on the side where it was leaning, and then it felt like a very steep hike on the side that was tilted up. It had a sense of vertigo about the whole thing. The marble steps were heavily grooved and if you didn't watch where you were going, with the vertigo and everything, it was easy to slip and fall.

When I got to the top, I leaned against the railing (I'm still a little afraid of heights, and my stomach was turning flips) and watched all of the tourists below taking pictures on the lawn, pretending to "hold up" the leaning tower. Vendors were crowding the streets selling pizza and other snacks, pictures, souvenirs, and umbrellas. And all the while, the baptistry and cathedral stood like white giants looming out of the very green grass below. The wind wildly whipped my hair into my eyes and mouth. It was exhilarating.

I got to stay on the top for half an hour before it was Kevin's turn. Kevin handed Weslee to me, and he made the hike up. While he was up there, it began to sprinkle. Weslee LOVED it. He ran around, jumping in mud puddles, and splashing after the birds. By the time Kevin came down, Weslee was wet to his knees, but very, very happy.

At this point, we decided that we'd tour the cathedral. While we were inside, it began pouring rain. Our time was almost up on our parking meter, and we had no other choice but to run out into it. We were drenched again, by the time we made it to our car.

Tom-Tom still wasn't working. The narrow streets weren't allowing the satelites to pin-point our location. We guessed our way out of there...and luckily made good choices. But, we had a bigger problem on our hand. Italian siesta had closed every gas station between the leaning tower of Pisa and the airport. We were at a quarter tank and were supposed to turn the car in full. Apparently, the Italians have never heard of "pay at the pump". We finally decided to just take the car back and pay for it (and oh, did we ever pay for it) there.

By the time we got to the airport, we were wet, tired, and feeling irritated with the financial dealings of the day. We felt swindled. But, there was more yet to bear. The lady at the check-in counter...we'll call her "Nazi Lady", informed us that our carry-on bags were too heavy and would have to be checked in. Both of our bags were over the weight limit by a couple of pounds. We tried to rearrange, but their policy wouldn't let us...and there was a long line of weary travellers behind us. It wouldn't have been so bad if they didn't decide to rip you off if you have to check a bag. It cost us about $60 to check those extra 4 pounds of stuff in. Yikes. And, to top it all off...she was so pushy, we forgot Weslee's diapers and wipes in the carryon. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to remember my wallet and passports.

As we angrily stepped away from the counter, and through the security check-out, I remember Kevin saying, "Hope Weslee doesn't go poop". Less than an hour later, I was trying to salvage a diaper in the women's room. Still steaming that Nazi lady wouldn't let us get the things we needed most, I tried to clean the diaper as best I could (it wasn't too bad, actually...but it seemed horrendous at the time) and put it back on Wes. We got on the plane without speaking much and Nazi lady took our tickets, making my blood boil all over again.

Once we settled into our chair, it wasn't so bad. In fact, I was able to laugh about everything that had happened. We joked with some of the other passengers on the plane that perhaps Ryan Air wasn't such a good deal after all, and that paying a little extra for another airline might make up for the inconvenience and lack of customer service on this airline. We all chuckled for a little while.

When we landed, I can honestly say I was ready to be home. At the time, I really wasn't missing Italy at all. Maybe that's why it's taken me so long to write this blog update. I didn't come home "glowing" from my experience, even though the experience as a whole was wonderful. I came home feeling swindled and angry. I came home never wanting to return. How silly is that?

Now, with a few weeks between me and Nazi lady and Federico's mother...I can look back and feel blessed. I can look back and love the olive groves and grape vines again. I can think of the wonderful food and the amazing architecture. I can think of sitting snuggled under the blankets in our condo with Kevin at my side, reading good books, eating strawberry gelato, and hearing the frogs croak outside. I can think of how the sun made the hills sparkle with magic. And, the parts that didn't go so well have turned into part of the adventure, part of the story-telling, part of the fun of our journey.

Venice, Italy- February 6, 2009

We woke up early this morning to make the 3 hour drive to Venice. We decided that if we ever came back to Italy, we likely wouldn't be any closer to Venice than we were this trip...and if we never came back, we would be sad to miss seeing such a unique city. So, we made today a road trip day.

We packed what few snacks we had with us into the car, strapped Weslee in and headed off on our next wild adventure. This is where we got our first understanding of how crazy Italian drivers really are. When you go to any European city, you expect mayhem. For instance, the drivers in London would as soon run you over as yield for a pedestrian. Their line of thinking seems to be something like this. "My car is not very big, but it's bigger than you...and if you want to play chicken, be my guest. But, I'm encased in metal, and you are nothing but flesh and bones. So, if you don't want to be a greasy smear on the pavement, you'd better move out of my way." (Like I said, it's a loose translation. The way they'd say it in British English is rather unintelligible, so I have to make up words to go along with their actions. This, to me, is what their actions are saying.) But, the actions in any European city speak the same thing. It's a "get what I can, while I can get it" type of an attitude when European city dwellers are in their cars.

This is particularly true for Italians. As you approach a red traffic light, there may be three lanes painted onto the pavement, but that doesn't mean that just three cars should line up there in neat little lines. Oh no! Let's all cram up to the white line and have 9 cars revving their little engines, daring to be first. And, let's throw in a couple of scooters in between them all. When the light turns green, everyone floors it...whether you're in the front of the line or the back of the line. You hit the gas with everything you've got and pray that the person in front of you moves fast enough. The cars weave in and out of the painted lines and the whole time, you feel as if you're cheating death. It's a wonder anyone is still alive in Italy. That's all I can say. One of our friends, Dave Cassat, who served a mission in Italy told us that traffic rules in Italy are more like suggestions, not finite regulations that are enforced.

So, like I said, we were expecting craziness in the city, but we were not prepared for it to continue on the highways, where there was little, if any, traffic. We noticed that the Italian drivers would weave all over the road, like drunkards, with little regard for any cars that might be around them. There were several times that we'd be driving in the left lane and the car in the right lane would drift over the line toward us and then slowly drift back into their own lane. It was crazy. There was no "safe" place.

Anyway, around noon, we finally made it to Venice. We crossed over a long bridge to the island where we abruptly had to choose from 2 different parking garages. You see, in Venice, there are no cars...just boats. You park your car right when you get there, and you either walk or you ride a boat to wherever else in Venice you'd like to go. We were headed to a restaurant I had researched on the internet, Taverna San Trovaso, but we had no idea where to look for it. We just knew it was in the "Dorsoduro" part of the city.

Finally, Kevin was able to make sense of our map and we began our slow trek across the maze of canals, bridges and narrow walkways. I have never seen anything quite like Venice. The water was an amazing turquoise color, ebbing and flowing between ancient buildings that looked like they rose from the depths. In front of the homes, motor boats were tied to their moorings and secured with tarps so the rain couldn't get it.

When we arrived, it was cloudy, but the rain hadn't started yet. The sky threatened, but we came with an umbrella and weren't too worried. We finally found our way to the restaurant and had a pretty good meal. Kevin enjoyed his lasagna, but I wasn't too impressed with my pasta. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't spectacular. We were some of the last customers to exit before siesta began.

After dinner, we roamed around for a while. We didn't come to Venice with any specific plans. We just wanted to see the city, more than anything. I stopped often for pictures of the canals. We passed a little bakery on our way to San Marcos Square. I bought a few little tarts and chocolate pastries. We ate them while we walked.

When we got to San Marcos Square, about a half hour's walk from our car, it began to rain steadily. Weslee held the umbrella over his head and Kevin and I were left to the elements. We found shelter under the various shops. By the time we reached San Marcos Square, it was getting late. Weslee was tired. We were sopping wet. We decided to head back to the car, walking a different way.

We saw so many high end shops and jewelry stores. Italian leather and silk was everywhere. As beautiful as it was, it just wasn't my kind of atmosphere. I'm not a "high-end" person. I never have been. I felt somewhat out of place.

By the time we got to our car, nearly an hour later, we were drenched. Weslee was exhausted. We had lost our way in the maze of buildings several times. It felt so good to get out of our jackets and warm ourselves in front of the heating vents. Weslee fell asleep, and we ate the remainder of the tarts. Kevin braved the crazy drivers for another 3 hours, even though he was exhausted too. We swung by the Gelateria dei Neri in Florence on our way home for some blackberry and strawberry gelato and headed to our comfy condo for our last night's sleep in Italy.

Florence, Italy- February 3-5, 2009

This was the trip I have looked forward to the most since we moved to England. I have always wanted to go to Italy...and more particularly, I've always wanted to go to Tuscany. To me, Tuscany is the seat of good art, good food and beautiful countryside. The rustic villas I saw on television always drew my heart away to Italy. The rolling hills covered in grape vines and olive trees...the brightly colored, tiled roofed houses that dotted the countryside like flowers. Ahhh...to escape to Tuscany and bask in the sun. That was my idea of a dream vacation. And honestly, I wasn't disappointed. True, it rained every day that we were there...but it a strange sort of way, it added to the immense beauty. At the end of the day, the bright sun would break through the clouds and the wet foliage would seem that much more magical, the city of Florence, that much more majestic.

We arrived on my birthday in the Pisa Airport, rented a little dinky European car (manual...it was all they offered), strapped Weslee in and away we went. We were all hungry, tired and thirsty. We had gotten up at 4:30 am to get ready and catch our plane on time in London. We had barely eated breakfast. We packed so lightly we forgot to bring many snacks. We were so thirsty. We could hardly wait to get to our condo in Scandicci, just outside of Florence.

We arrived at our very charming Italian villa around 2:30 in the afternoon. The drive through the countryside, winding through the mountains had been breathtaking. My expectations for beauty had already been met. At every corner, I was amazed by the expanse of vineyards and the quaint villas on the rustic hills. The rain drizzled down steadily, but the sun would peek through the clouds every now and then, touching the scenery in magic. After a little searching, we found our condo. We parked under an olive tree and headed through the wrough iron gate.

Our very VERY energetic host brought us up to his condo to settle the room. He talked about a million miles an hour and his mannerisms seemed almost pushy to me. I found out later, that's just being an Italian. They are very friendly, very helpful, and very much "in your face". They want you to be comfortable in their home. When I hung back waiting to be invited to sit down, he was all loud, "Oh come, you sit. You sit here." In my face now, "You sit". Obviously, I sat. Weslee was pattering all over his apartment, trying to get into everything...his musical instruments, his art. I was obviously distracted and trying to keep an eye on him, as was Kevin. "You no worry. He is OK." We couldn't help it, we worried.

He showed us to our room. It wasn't lavish, but it felt authentic. The rooms had a rustic feel about them as if we were really living in the Tuscan countryside. It added to the experience, even if it wasn't completely convenient.

At this point, our stomachs we protesting LOUDLY. We asked about nearby restaurants. We were told that we were "in the countryside. The restaurants generally aren't open on Mondays and Tuesdays". I found myself thinking "Well duh...anyone would know that! Why would anyone want to eat out on a Monday or Tuesday!" But, he gave us directions to a pizza restaurant that "might" be open closer to Florence and a supermarket as well.

When we got to the pizza restaurant, we found it closed. We had assumed that Italy would work like England and the rest of Europe...meaning, you need to get food before 6pm because everything closes at that time. WRONG! Italians take a siesta. That means that the entire country shuts down from 2pm to 5pm. Restaurant employees return to work at 6pm and the place doesn't officially open up until 7pm. Then, they serve food until 2am. We were standing, starving, in front of the restaurant at 5pm...2 more hours to wait. We couldn't do it. We decided to take our chances in the dinky supermarket.

After roaming around confused for an hour or so, we finally decided on some chocolate flavored cereal, milk and fruit for breakfast the next day. We put a few different breads in the cart. I got a couple of packages of what looked like lunch meat (but I honestly couldn't tell if it was cooked or not, and I was nervous beyond reason) and some provolone cheese with a rind on it. And, then we bought some fresh vegetables (onions, zucchini and bell peppers) and a package of something that looked like chicken and sausage from the butcher and headed home.

We cracked into the bread while I was cooking. I literally mean we "cracked" into it. It was hard as a rock and had NO FLAVOR whatsoever. We were starving and it still wasn't very appetizing. We found out that many Tuscan breads are made this way...hard and lacking flavor. Who knew that the hailed capital of Italian cuisine would be so clueless about bread? I got to work immediately with my cooking experiment for dinner. I sauteed the veggies and meat together and grilled thin slices of bread with provolone cheese on them for dinner. To be honest, it was delicious. I don't know if it was because we were starving or because it really was that good. But, man! It hit the spot. I even took pictures of the whole ordeal, it was so tasty. We went to bed early, exhausted, but finally, our stomachs were satisfied.

On Wednesday, we woke early and headed to Florence. We finally found a place to park (though we had no idea where we were in relation to the things we wanted to see). On our way to the city, we stumbled across a large car park overlooking the city (because we made a wrong turn...stupid Tom-Tom) that became a favorite place for us for pictures. We went to this overlook every day that we were in Florence for pictures. The city changed moods every time we came. We were so glad to have our dinky Italian car at the car park because the parking spots were made for toy cars, not real ones...and if we had been in our Stratus, we would have never fit. But, we fit, with room to spare. We threw Wes into the stroller (which was pink and purple, because we forgot his stroller and our friend, who only has girls, loaned us theirs at the airport when he dropped us off. We got so many ODD looks from people as we wheeled Weslee, our strapping young boy, around in a girl's flowery stroller. So embarrassing.) and headed off to the city. Just walking among the buildings was an experience. I've never been any place quite like it. Small, tight alleyways actually lent charm to the place, and craziness to the already crazy traffic. It was charming.

We found a map and figured out where to go. We headed first to the Piazza del Signoria and saw the Fountain of Neptune, the replica of the Statue of David, the Palazzo Vecchio, and alot of other art. This is where Kevin first realized he was going to be seeing alot of nude people. We had someone take our picture at the fountain of Neptune, and I cracked up when I got my camera back and looked at the pictures. In the picture, Weslee, Kevin and I are all cozy, looking like a happy family...and then up in the right hand corner of the frame is the giant reproductive part of Neptune himself. Hello! We walked around and looked at some of the other statues. Almost all portrayed some scene from a war...but apparently, back in the old Roman and Greek days...everyone liked to fight in the buff. I thought, for some reason, of the Lamanites...and I wondered what all of these nude people (who remembered to wear their helmets at least) would have done if they had met with Captain Moroni's army? Hmmm...it makes you wonder.

Anyway, we headed from there to the Piazza del la Republica to see the government buildings and the exact center of Florence. Usually there are artists there in the square painting...but it must have been too cold and rainy that day for artists. So, we moved on.

Next, we headed to the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral (or the Duomo, as it's known in Florence). It was gorgeous. Carved out of white, pink and green marble, the massive structure with its brick dome rose like a giant out of the other clustered buildings. This was our main objective for today, and it turned out to be our favorite experience from Florence. We first went in to tour the cathedral. It housed works by Michelangelo, Dante and Donatello. We listened to an audio tour of the place. Mostly though, we just took in the immense space. There were hardly any pews or chairs in the chapel and we wondered if they set up chairs or if people stood during mass. We never did figure it out. The main attraction indoors was the cupola. The large domed ceiling was covered by a painting depicting the last Judgement begun by Vasari in 1572 and completed by Zuccaro. It was breathtaking, mainly because I couldn't imagine being up that high, for so long to paint something so detailed. It would have frightened me to death.

The highlight, however, was climbing to the top of the Duomo. Kevin (who was hefting a 30 pound child the whole way...my hero!) and I hiked the almost 500 steps to the top of the dome, getting a better glimpse at the fresco inside the dome, the structure of how it was built (out of bricks...seriously, this thing must weigh a TON), and got an amazing view from the very top of the building of the whole city. We were breathing heavy when we reached the top, but it was so worth it to see the patchwork of buildings that made up Florence, the Tuscan hills surrounding the city...just beautiful.

While we were up there, we ran into a group from Brazil, and Kevin enjoyed brushing up on his Portuguese as well. Weslee spent his time flirting with the Brazilian girls who kept taking pictures of him and exclaiming every other word, "Que lindo" (how cute).

After all of that exercise, all of us were hungry and tired, and it was getting close to siesta time. We went to a place called the "Yellow bar" for pizza, calzones, and pasta. Kevin ordered some pizza with purple onion and sausage. It didn't turn out quite the way either of us had pictured. They didn't mix any of the ingredients. There were a couple of wedges of pizza that had cheese and only onions. A couple with cheese and only sausage. And a couple with cheese and only peppers. It was a strange pizza indeed...especially the onion slices. Gross. I ordered a cheese and ham calzone, which I thought was SO DELICIOUS. We also got some Spaghetti Carbonara. The waitress looked at us kind of strange when she came back and all of the plates were clear. Crazy Americans! We eat way too much. Oh well.

Our eating wasn't finished either. I had researched gelaterias before going to Italy, and I had the address of the best ice-cream shop in Florence...Gelateria dei Neri. We headed there before heading home. We come vanilla and strawberry gelato...and fell in love with Italian gelato. We went to this gelateria every night we were in Tuscany. It was so good. We tried Mango (not so great), White Chocolate (which was pretty good, except neither of us really like white chocolate), and blackberry, which was amazing.

On our way to the car, we crossed over the Ponte Vecchio bridge, a bridge with lots of shops and apartments that is a symbol of Florence. We decided it was too many jewelry shops all in one place. We wondered how they all stayed in business.

We came home very happy with all we had accomplished. We put Weslee to bed and settled onto the couch, under the heater to read our books. Kevin was reading the Borne Identity, and I was reading the Twilight series. I was hooked, I tell you. Who knew I could be hooked to a series about high school aged vampires?

The next day, we took a different approach. We spent the morning hours driving around the Tuscan countryside. We took in the views and enjoyed the amazing scenery. This was actually Kevin indulging me. Every time we saw something amazing, he'd pull over and let me snap a picture of it. It was still a a little misty in the morning, but it was a gorgeous day, nonetheless. I took so many pictures.

We got out and walked a little through the olive groves and enjoyed the wet morning. But, by the time we reached home again, Weslee was tired and ready for a nap. We let him sleep while we read a little more from our books. We had sandwiches for lunch and just lounged until after the siesta hours. And then, we headed into Florence to experience it at night.

We went to Le Campiano pizza restaurant around 8pm. We both ordered pizza. Kevin still wasn't impressed with their thin crust variations on pizza, but at least the toppings were all mixed together. I loved my pizza...but then, I like thin crust. Mine had 3 different cheeses, fresh basil, roasted tomatoes and eggplant. It really was divine. I could live in Tuscany and eat like the Italians do. Everything except their nasty bread, that is. And then, of course, we had to go get some more gelato. After dinner, we headed up to the parking lot again that overlooked the city. I took some night time pictures of the place. We would have done more, but poor Weslee was conked out in the back seat again, and we decided to head home.

All in all, it was a lovely time in Florence. We didn't see everything. I don't think 2 days is really enough time to experience a city like this. Especially as parents of a young child, we didn't really expect to experience all of Florence. We didn't see as many art galleries as we had planned...but we did experience the art...just mostly out in the plazas where Weslee could run around and chase pigeons while we did it. We're finally learning to plan our trips, not like single or newly married people would do...but like parents would do...taking ample time to linger, stretch, walk and enjoy the simpler pleasures of the places we visit.

The trip home from Germany, January 24, 2009

We woke early with a 6 pm ferry to catch from Dunquerque, France to Dover, England...and about 12 hours of driving between us and home. It had been a good week, but we were ready to be home again. We reluctantly crawled into the car around 8am. When we started driving, the valley was just barely waking. Bakeries were lit inside, but the doors were still locked shut. The sun was just peeking over the rocky tops of the Alps. The cool blue morning enveloped us. We drove reluctantly away, stopping for a few last pictures of the mountains that had welcomed us so eagerly a few days earlier.

On our way home, we had a few adventures. We stopped in Brussels for a gas and restroom break. As I approached the restroom, a lady sat at a little table with a sign that clearly stated you had to pay 30 euro cent to use the restroom. I had about 50 euro cent left from our trip. It was a good thing that Kevin and I didn't both need to go. I couldn't believe that they actually CHARGED you to relieve yourself. It made our previous stop make a little more sense.

We stopped at a "rest area" about an hour before the gas station to rearrange the car (we had packed rather hastily) and put gas from our gas can in the trunk in the car. When we pulled up, it looked like a regular rest stop...except for one major difference. No potty. We saw a guy head out of the bushes zipping up his pants. While we were stopped, we decided to let Weslee get out and stretch his legs. It was while he was running up and down the sidewalk that I noticed that there was wet toilet paper strewn all over the grass. I even saw a large piece of human excrement in the grass. Suddenly, I became overvigilant with Wes. I think it's the only time I've ever had to tell him to stay off the grass because it was "yucky". He kept wanting to pick up leaves and grass. The whole time I was freaking out because I didn't know if it had been peed on or not. I sanitized both of our hands like crazy when we got back into the car. It was disgusting! People come and pee there all day long (like 5 or 6 guys came and went while we were parked there). And at night, no one bothers to head to the bushes. They just let it all hang out, in and around the park benches. Nasty-rific!

Anyway, we made our ferry, had a great journey. I even prepared most of my sacrament meeting talk for the next morning. We were so glad to be home.

Oh...and about the sign pictured above. This is the German word for "exit". Being the mature people we are, we kept laughing over the word. "Aus-fart". I thought I'd take a picture for posterity...even if it is through a grimy windshield.