The vacation

Update Five: The Vacation (again written by Paul, edited by Kathy)

Well, our lives now revolve around Dane. We, the parental units, no longer
sleep through the night, and that is OK, because he is a great kid. He is
noisy as all get up though. His first nickname was Squeaky, because he
squeaks and sighs and cries and moans night and day, even during his
sleep. At first this was really cute as we listened to him and wondered
what he was dreaming. Now it is still really cute, but his nickname has
become Grunter. Kathy and I have become very light sleepers since Dane
came into the world as we are constantly waking up to check on every
squeak. We are happy to report that they have all been healthy squeaks.

We are just totally in love with this kid – all of his noises and habits
and cries and smiles (yes, we have had several confirmations of actual
smiles not followed by a fart and they have been very well received).
Actually, there have been five so far, all in the morning after we changed
his diaper – any correlation? Now he is 7 weeks old, and his cries are
evolving from one ear-piercing shriek that causes Kathy to spray milk to
several different types of cries (that still cause Kathy to spray milk,
but mean different things) thus beginning a more effective communication
between us. Earlier this week, he visited the pediatrician, and we learned
that he has grown 4 inches and now weighs 11.25 pounds, leading to a new
nickname, Piglet!

Anyway, enough about him. Let’s talk about where he has eaten. We took
him to Paris for a three-day weekend, and then on a whirlwind tour of
Italy and Switzerland, where he dined on breastmilk prepared in Florence,
Venice, Siena, Milan, and Zermatt. Gotta love those Belgian holidays!

First Paris. We decided to drive there (big mistake). We stayed in the
Latin Quarter at the Hotel Mont Blanc – only because we thought they might
have an inside line on getting some pens cheap. Although this was not the
case, the room was nice. We did a lot of walking around, down the
Champs-Elysee, over to the Eiffel Tower, and on to the Rodin Museum.
“Augooost” (of course, we use this name when in France – they dig it,
although they all say “C’est un nom ancien” as if we did not know this
fact) has had his picture taken at many Paris landmarks. Look for them
soon on an Internet near you.

To be honest, he slept through most of Paris, because he was only three
weeks old and in the stroller most of the time. Consequently, he (we) did
not sleep at night. However, we learned some new things about Paris: 1) we
will never drive there again, 2) the Metro is not stroller-compatible (too
many stairs), 3) they have the best Gyros we have ever had, and, 4) always
call ahead to see if Kathy’s favorite restaurant is open and not closed
for vacation before walking an hour in the rain with a screaming infant in
tow!

Now Italy (read this with an Italian accent). We-a took-a dee plane-a to
a-Milano, and caught a train-a to Firenze (Florence). It is a bea-u-ti-ful
city. We-a saw-a dee David and-a dee Duomo. It-a was-a very hot-ta, but-a
the food it was a dee best-a Italian food we-a have-a ever had. We-a
found-a two of the best-a restaurants, and are just a-aching to-a go-a
back. The first-a night, we had-a a little bit-a of trouble with-a Kathy’s
a re-a-living her-a summer in Firenze. She-a wanted to stay in her-a old
pensione, which-a was-a alright, except-a for the-a punk rock/elevator
musica band that-a played out-a-side our-a window. They-a played and-a
played all night-a long the same-a lousy Whitney Houston and Bee Gees
hits. And-a the singer, she was-a terrible. Ah, but-a the second-a
hotel-a—it was-a out-a-standing – a 15th century villa with a tower
(torre) from-a about-a the 13th century.

The Torre di Bellosguardo is perched on a hill overlooking the city of
Florence and is in fact named for the beautiful view (bello sguardo). We
arrived a little too early to take possession of our room so Michele at
the front desk suggested we relax by the pool. No sooner had we arrived
poolside when Paolo appeared from behind the shrubs to arrange cushions
and towels for us (especially-a for the bambino!). Drinks? Sure. Insalata
Caprese? That would be fantaaastic. “Don’t worry,” Paolo said, “I picked
the tomatoes this morning and I’ll pluck the basil off my plant right
now.” It was a damn fine start of two lovely days lounging by the pool;
leaving the hotel only to search for our next meal. We also met a
delightful honeymoon couple, Audrey and Eric, and introduced them to one
of our favorite Florentine restaurants. For those of you who are familiar
with Kathy’s penchant for collecting travel magazines, you will be happy
to know that this hotel was one she had read about and dreamt of staying
in.

From Firenze, it was off to Siena. Siena is a very interesting medieval
city. We stayed with the Toti family on the main Piazza – Piazza del
Campo. Their apartment, which has been in their family for over 800 years,
looks out over it. This is the Piazza where the Palio is run, and each
family member is, naturally, in a Contrada. In fact, the first thing
Roberta’s grown children did was insist that we watch a video of when
their horses won – 1993 and 1990. Notice that I said “horse won.” The
riders go bareback and only the horse has to cross the finish line. The
children are in different Contradas, which are their second family, and
they are baptized into it. In the late night and during the day,
spontaneous celebrations by the Contrada (Giraffa) who had won in June
erupted in the Piazza below our window. They proudly paraded their flag
throughout the town while playing drums and trumpeting long horns. They
even dressed in Renaissance garb. This show was not for the tourists- it
was for themselves and their Contrada.

Venice was the next stop for us. As you probably know, Venezia has so many
canals that the only way to get around is by boat. Even the taxis are
boats. As we were low on money by this time it was great to know that the
baby stroller was inflatable. We just inflated the stroller, then swam
along side it! The water felt good in the heat. The only other way we
found to beat the heat as we walked and walked was Haagen Daaz, which we
still believe is better than 95% of the gelato we had. We saw the island
of Murano and toured the glass factory/high-pressure sales floor. Some of
the stuff was nice, but was way overpriced.
No matter where we went though, Dane was the hit of Italy. All of the
Italians loved him – old, young, male, female, single, married. Almost
everyone made a fuss over him, wanting to hold him and touch him and make
faces at him and ask how old he was (cinque settimane) and so on! It was a
pleasant aspect of our visit to Italy. If they didn’t ask to hold or touch
him or proudly display pictures of their own children, they would just
point out the piccolino bambino to their girlfriends or parents or
children as we walked by, always following with bellino!

Switzerland was also great. Zermatt is at the base of the Matterhorn, and
is just beautiful. There are no gasoline-powered cars there – only
electric carts to get around. We did some hikes and some shopping (the
dollar is sooo strong right now against European currencies) and concluded
that, just like it is “in” to wear black in big cities like LA or NYC,
it is in to walk around in hiking gear with a 50 lb. pack, ropes, helmet
and ice shovel in Zermatt. We just weren’t “in”.

I did bust away for a mountain bike ride one morning in Zermatt. I figure,
even though I have only ridden two times since Dane’s birth, I must
mountain bike in the Alps, given the chance. So I rented a bike from a
local shop, threw on a rain jacket, street shoes, and Quicksilver swim
trunks, and headed in the direction of the Matterhorn! It was a rainy day,
and as I climbed and climbed, I eventually went into the clouds where the
steady drizzle turned into a steady rain. I was reminded of the ride with
#1 and #2, except that this was on pavement. Who wants to be on pavement
in the rain on a mountain bike?

Fortunately, I happened along a little trail that was designated for
biking and took it (realize that such trails are very rare in Zermatt –
Hikers Rule here!) It turned out to be a single-track descent through the
woods that meandered down half of the mountain and contained 8-10 steep,
hairpin switchbacks with the appropriate penalty should you not
successfully maneuver the turn. In this case, the penalty was even more
severe because the rental shop would not lend me a helmet and the rocks 15
below looked very unforgiving. The trail had just enough rain to provide
excellent traction and plenty of low-hanging tree branches to create
excitement. At the end, I was dumped back on the original road again (Yes,
at a lower altitude – if only Escher DID design bike trails!!), and I did
what all of you would have done – climbed the hill and went down it again!
This time I discovered some shortcuts from one section to another – these
looked like the equivalent of chutes that I recall falling down with
Susan, Rich, #2 and Kathy off Headwall at Squaw – where you have no room
to execute a full turn of your skis down a heart-stoppingly steep chute.
In this case, there was no room for your rear wheel to slide as you
involuntarily locked your rear tire with your white-knuckle grip on the
brake! I decided that living through one of these used up enough
testosterone, and I would save the rest of the MTBs chutes to do with
Roger or Rich and a helmet!

From a Zermatt-uh, we-a headed back-a to-a Milano, where-uh we-a searched
and-a searched-a for some good-a pasta. We found-a some, visited-a dee
Duomo, and came home-a Sunday, the last day of our Tour and THE Tour.

Until you live in Europe, you cannot appreciate how important the Tour de
France is to Europeans. In Belgium, it is broadcast live on three stations
in three different languages. Then, in the evening, it is rebroadcast in
its entirety! Incredible! That is all for now!