Croatia

Early in the morning, I could see the coastline of Croatia. We had crossed the Adriatic Sea and were landing in Dubrovnik. I remember a friend from college who was proud of her Croatian roots, but I was not sure why. I had never heard much about it until the war with the Serbs in the early nineties. I knew the Croatians used a cyrillic alphabet, but it was not the same as Russian. The coastline was very rugged, rocky, and hilly. It looked as though life would be difficult there. Still, it had a beauty, and nearing port, I saw a lonely building on a rocky outcropping with a cross on top. It was a monastery, and it looked as rough and difficult a life as I could ever imagine. Upon entering port, however, the whole scene changed. It had a very riviera-like feel, a world-class scuba diving port, beautiful new buildings, modern roads, and an extremely tall, long bridge near which the ship anchored. We couldn't see the old walled city-fort from our pier, but I got a good view of it from the road to Cavtat (pronounced sahv Taht). One noticeable discrepancy was that all of the roofs were new. This city had been bombed and in great disrepair just fifteen years before, but you could not tell there had been a war, except for those new clay tile roofs. On my tour, the riviera-feel continued at the villiage of Cavtat, and indeed, it was a place where the upper class europeans summer. Croatia had its own currency, but frequently accepted euros. I was hoarding my euros, so I went to the banks, but found them closed. Finally I went back to the equivalent of a western union office to exchange my dollars and found the same old lady arguing with the clerk for the fifteen minutes it took me to find the closed banks. I made a few small purchases and looked at beautiful crocheted tablecloths. I found the local churches and the bell tower. There were huge pine trees that shaded the crushed shell walkway and rained small cones everywhere. I also discovered the clearest seawater in any harbor I had ever seen. It was so clear you could see the fish and the sea urchins on the rocks underneath the tied dingies. Still, I was glad to be on my way as it was quite hot and sunny, and I was wearing long sleeves and no sunblock. We then went to watch a folk dance performance. Originally, I meant for Brianna to see it, but my mom took her only to the walled city. The dancing was fantastic - really well done and absolutely worth the time and expense. It started with 14 and 15 year olds, with progressively older age groups coming out to dance,most of them no older than 25. The guitar and mandolin players were older men. There were elements of square dancing, the quick-footedness of Irish dancing and beautiful period costumes. Afterwards, I walked through the walled city over stones smoothed by hundreds of years of thousands of feet. The ramparts could be hiked, but it meant an expense of an additional 15 euros for the priviledge and the shuttle back, so I declined. The main drag of old town Dubrovnik was like a shopping mall set in a 400 year old fort, with the addition of a bunch of sidewalk cafes and a thousand gawking tourists, so I just kept walking through to meet the bus and go back to the ship. I would love to visit again, show Brianna the dancers, and walk the ramparts.

Venezia

The second real day of my trip began with an early breakfast call and a walking tour of Venice. When I was eating, I was on the upper deck of the ship (the lido deck) and looking out over the cityscape shrouded in fog with the sun rising like a shrouded lamp above. The lido waiter assured me that it would burn off, and it did just in time for the tour. The group took a water taxi to the Piazzale Roma from the day before and started our walk across the many little bridges and narrow alleys, heading toward the Rialta bridge, one of the few that cross the Grand Canal. One of the stops where the tour guide explained things was in front of a school that had been open for four hundred years. Sadly our tour did not include a look at the inside, but we were welcome to return and enter...if we could find our way back. There were enough twists and turns on that walking tour to make that a tenuous possibility. Plus the ship was leaving that day, and I sure didn't want to miss it. We continued and learned about Carnivale and the interesting masks and ended in St. Mark's Square which is a sight not to be missed. It was very crowded with tourists just like our group. Here is one of the places where a few breadcrumbs will get you covered in pigeons if you wanted. I was almost sorry I hadn't taken Brianna just to do that. It is funny how having a child allows you to see the world through the eyes of a child. I always think of what she would like or want to do, even when I am alone. I think of what my husband would like about Venice...absolutely nothing. He would hate the crowds, the birds, the noise, the water, and any romanticism associated with it. It was a good thing he wasn't there. Again we were welcomed to go into St. Mark's or up in the tower (both long lines), but would have to find the right water taxi to get back to the ship and spend the extra 7 euros, so I chose not to stay. At least after the tour, I felt like I knew Venice a little better, and it was clear our tour guide loved the city herself. I got back to the ship and I felt the pull towards something new and different. It was fun seeing the city and especially Lido again from our balcony on the Zuiderdam as we set forth in the afternoon. Then it was into the Adriatic for the ship, and into the dining room for our party of three. Dinner on the cruise ship is one thing I really love. I even like to dress up for the event, mostly because Brianna enjoys getting into pretty dresses, having her hair brushed smooth. I enjoy the good food and all the work that must have gone into its making and presentation. And all the choices. Do I feel more like lamb or veal tonight? Questions I never get to ask myself at home. It is a mother's idea of being pampered, and no cleanup!

Navigating Venice with Luggage

The trouble with staying on Lido is that we had to go into the city of Venice to board the cruise ship. Lido would have been a great place to stay if we were just visiting the city. However, all three of us and all seven suitcases had to get dragged back down the five blocks from the hotel to the vaporetto (boat bus) station, had to have biglietti (tickets) bought for, and had to be loaded onto the boat back to the main city. Our boat bus also served as school bus for thirty Italian children aged 8-12 and at least that many working folks for several stops. Unfortunately, we didn't find out until later that we took the less-than-optimal route for us carrying all those suitcases. So for those who want to know: take a vaporetto from Lido to St. Mark's Square and from there you will find the only vaporetto that goes to the cruise ship dock. The Italian word for cruise ship is crocciere, pronounced krocheeaireh. We ended up at the Piazzalo Roma where we asked a nice police officer for directions to the ship. Only a few minutes walk he said, but my mom knew better than to believe him, found a taxi and happily paid the 13 euro to drive us the half mile to the ship. Once there, we could finally be rid of the bags! Check-in was slow, but well run, with groups called to go into line. Inevitably there would be a pre-line formed before the actual line, but there is that tendency in people to get ahead. We found ourselves inexplicably among the first in our group to actually go through security, but the silliest part was how my mom kept inching forward so these hanger-on people wouldn't cut ahead of her. Its not like there weren't almost seventeen hundred people trying to get on the ship, but by golly we were going ahead of stupid-beard-man!
We had the afternoon free to do things including cruisy stuff like register Brianna for Club HAL or tour the spa and enter our names for the free massage, or unpack, or we could have gone back into the city to explore more. I had a walking tour planned for the next morning, but usually I am one to go off on my own (particularly because mom was offering to watch B) in addition to tours and just take in the sights. However, I had had my fill of Venice for that day at least. Maybe it was the snotty Italian hag who looked at our assembled luggage on the vaporetto with an undisguised sneer, or the jet lag waiting in line and unpacking chores, but I just didn't see what there was to get so excited about in this city.
Venice is made up of over 120 little islands, with lots of picturesque little bridges over the waterways that run between. The buildings are very old (just like the rest of Europe), with lots of marble used in decorating. The roofs are terra-cotta and the spires of dozens of churches rise up from the horizon. People say how romantic it is and beautiful, like a fading diva, but it just didn't interest me. And the price for a gondola ride? One hundred and twenty euros! That is not very romantic unless you are rich and stupid. Do I care that gondoliering is fading? Not at those prices. I read a book recently about a couple arguing over whether to have the romantic gondola ride. The husband didn't want to, saying it was too touristy, too overdone, that the couple on the boat is too much on display. The wife of course wanted to go, because its what you do in Venice. I guess that is what I didn't like about the city: the 'going through the motions because you were supposed to' feel of the whole place. It was my mother who was excited for me to see Venice. It wasn't until later that she confessed she felt the same way I did about the city. We both liked Lido so much more.

Lido

Our first day (and night and day again) was spent flying to Venice from Tampa. It was a red-eye flight, so we tried to get some sleep. Brianna slept fine, and even had to be roused in the bright sunshine of a Venetian morning. Our luggage actually made it, but we brought far too much. How could we help it really? We had to pack for daywear and evening wear, for sunny and warm and for cool and rainy. We had to bring enough fun things to entertain my daughter without having too much that wouldn't be used. All in all, between three people there were seven suitcases (four of them large) and it all weighed over 250 pounds. At least Brianna could pull her little valise herself, and that is what she did. First order of business was to find out how to get to our hotel. Once we got there, we could crash. I really didn't sleep on the plane, just watched 27 dresses and the golden compass without sound, finally giving up and studying the Italian section of my European Phrase Book.

When flying into Venice, one lands on the mainland of Italy, but the city is accessable many ways: by bridge (and therefore bus or taxi) and by water (by private boat or vaporetto). The public transportation kiosk was right in the airport, so we waited in line to buy the right ticket to get us to the separate island of Lido. Our bulk of suitcases hindered other commuters and I was treated to my first Italian word: Permisso pronounced like pairmeSSSSSoh. They really manage to get a hiss in those S's. It would not be the last time I heard that word. The Italians use it regularly to navigate crowded streets and get through groups of gawking tourists. Getting all those suitcases and ourselves onto a boat bus was not easy, and aided greatly by the friendly vaporetto drivers. We landed on the island of Lido, re-hooked our suitcases into their long chains and started walking/pulling on the main drag. We were not the only tourists, fortunately, but we were the only ones dragging seven suitcases. Lido was a beach resort and the word lido means shore, sand bar, or beach, or a place to do some swimming. It was a cute town, and we received good directions to the hotel and found it after several rest stops. The flowers were in bloom. We passed by several souvenier shops and cafes and the weather was divine: cool, breezy, perfect humidity. Our hotel desk clerk spoke english and gave us a room close by. My mom in her fatigue tripped up the stairs, and the clerk practically panicked, but helped her the rest of the way, having the maid bring the luggage. Then my mom and I fell into heavy sleep. Brianna actually didn't nap, but played and waited until I was conscious again. Brianna and I found a cafe for late lunch. Brianna had pasta (of course!) and I had a prosciutto and cheese sandwich that was so good that I didn't care if we had to order it off a picture menu from Chinese vendors. We liked it so much that we ate there for dinner.
Afterwards, I wanted to see more of the town so I headed further down the main street. I found huge blooming wisterias in light purple and fragrant white. I found a large statue of fat people hugging. And I found the beach. The lido of Lido. I looked across the vast expanse of water and marveled that it was the Adriatic Sea. I never thought I would be here, and I was so happy I was.

Travelling Woman

So I am back from a long trip in Europe, and can I just thank God, the universe, and my mom for making it happen? Thank you thank you thankyou! It was so great! I will be writing about it for the next month. So I hope you like reading travel stories.
Not to brag, but the itinerary was thus:
Fly to Venice, Italy, stay a night in a hotel on Lido (a long narrow island near Venice and serviced by vaporetto which is like a water taxi), then board the Zuiderdam (pronounced Ziiiederrrrdam) for a 12 day cruise: First night and most of the next day remaining in Venice, next day Dubrovnik, Croatia, then Corfu, Cephalonia and Santorini, Greece. Next, a day at sea, then on to Sicily, Naples, Civitavecchia, and Livorno in Italy, then a day at sea and the night docked in Barcelona, disembarking and then a night at the Hotel Sants in Barcelona, fly to Lisbon, Portugal the next day and two nights in the Novotel before embarking on the Prinsendam for an 11-day cruise: first day at sea then Gijon and Bilbao, Spain, La Rochelle, Bordeaux and (Brest was scheduled, but we didn't stay at either La Rochelle or Brest) St. Malo, France, then Guernsey in the Channel Islands, and Dover, England, then Zeebrugge, Belgium and disembarking in Amsterdam, Netherlands and staying two nights at the Park Plaza Victoria hotel before flying back. It took one full month, leaving on the 6th of May and returning the 6th of June.
Well, I got back and jumped back into my house and routine, taking my daughter to the pediatrician for her checkup (she had turned five on the trip), having family over on Sunday, cleaning the cat hair up on Saturday and washing clothes and putting them all away.
I got asked whether the trip was too long or too short, and I honestly have to say, it was just exactly right for me. I wasn't homesick until the very end, and even then was distracted by the beauty, charm, and interesting sites of Holland. I would have had a wonderful time even if the trip was only one half (either first half or second) as long, but I felt like I really got to see a lot, and was able to compare my experiences much better, with the cruises being back-to-back. It was great travelling with my mother and my daughter. Neither maybe enjoyed it as much as I did, but both did well, and neither held me back. In fact, I think it was a better trip with both of them, because I probably never would have done it without my mom's guidance and I probably wouldn't have appreciated it as much without my daughter's interesting perspective (that and her ability to charm the socks off the cruise staff and getting us special treatment). It was great, and soon I will add my insights and details in future posts.
One other cool thing, we saw Mr. Bean's Holiday as a free movie for the summer. Soooo funny. Love Mr. Bean! And his holiday (vacation) ended up being in the south of France, so I really connected with it. Also, my favorite lines:
"Un cafe?" says the pretty waitress
"Oui" replies Mr. Bean
"Sucre?" asks the pretty waitress
"Non" replies Mr. Bean
"Your French is very good" comments the pretty waitress with a heavy French accent
Mr Bean replies, "Gracias"

Hit the ground running

Well, I haven't posted since before our spring break trip, but I will try to make up for it now. Full of hope, I packed everything I could think of for camping in April, including cold weather sleeping bags, long underwear, mac and cheese, and then we didn't end up camping. Oh well, maybe next time. The weather was great for the visiting days and less good for the travel days, which worked out nicely for us. Our first stop was in Atlanta (Sandy Springs and Decatur) to see relatives. We met our new cousin/niece Cecily and she is beautiful. She is also giving her mother more work than her older brother did, so my poor sister in law is trying to get used to having to take care of two kids: one a two and a half year old angel-toddler and the other one a persnicketty baby. It was fun holding a four week old again, and I again thought that it was a shame Jason really didn't want another child, or I would have a bad case of baby lust. After breakfast on Sunday, I mentioned that Brianna and I would go hiking at Kennesaw and my PhD- in- Religious- Studies-ordained-minister- step-brother pricked up his ears and offered to skip church to come with. I am such a bad influence! To my credit, I did offer to wait while he went to church (drawing the line at going to church, myself). However, Darryl had a prior engagement later, so off to Kennesaw we went with angel-toddler and back packs. Brianna impressed me by hiking the whole way up (a mile) to the top. Normally a stop-and-pick-the-flowers-hiker, she suddendly became very goal-directed and charged up the hill. On the way down, Brianna and Zeke scrambled on abundant boulders, and had a jolly time. At the end of the hike, Brianna was very negative, saying that she would never do that again, that it had been too hard, and not fun. This negativity is so much like Jason's, but I countered it with remembrances of particular fun things and the assurance that I was proud of her. It is interesting how mood can so color an experience. When we talked of the happy parts, it became a fun thing to do again. The next day we spent 12 long hours in the car and Brianna was so good. Finally we got to see Jo, Tim and Abby for the first time in almost a year. We went to Coopers Rock to hike and had gorgeous weather. We spent a day with Jo's parents and explored their beautiful yard, picking daffodils and violas. We walked downtown another day and saw cute stores and beautiful old homes. We played in their back yard, collected rocks, and even got to go to Voyagers which had recently re-opened for some yummy falafels, hummus and gyros. It was great seeing how smart Abby is, to watch her enjoy playing and being interested in everything everyone else was doing. Too soon, we had to turn around and come back. We stopped at the New River Gorge on the way back for a nice hike. Also, we found a place in Virginia called Wolf Creek that had an indian re-enactment village. However, no actors that day, so we just explored the huts and the creek. Brianna took nice nap in the car allowing me to get as far as Hickory, North Carolina for the night. I had planned to see my favorite part of the Blue Ridge Parkway the next day, but it was closed due to a massive landslide, so we found Linnville Caverns instead. Brianna had never been in a cave and was excited to go. She was silent during the short tour, but seemed to enjoy seeing the rare cave spider and the hibernating bats. We also got to touch the walls (which I had never been allowed to do in any other cave) and see this really deep, sterile water chamber (spooky). As we were exiting, Brianna admitted that this experience was too scary for her and she didn't want to do it again. So again with the reassurances about how proud I was and how interesting to see bats, spiders and total darkness. Afterwards, I bought an indian headdress and drum set which appeased her mightily. One more night in Atlanta and we were finally on our way home. Those last driving miles and hours were the longest, but overall a good trip.
And then in the mail the next day, an audit from the IRS for the 2006 tax year. Drat!
At least my ebay sales went well, and I ended up buying DDR Universe2 for my XBox which I have enjoyed greatly, much to the detriment of my knee cartilage.

My total Flake-Out

I pride myself on not being too dippy in the head, that is, I don't make promises I don't keep, and I usually know where I am going and what I am doing at most times. However, I had a major moment last Fri night, and I am throwing it out there so that your dippy moments look better by comparison.
I had a lot to do on Thursday and Friday, so I made lists and wrote down what I needed at stores, and that type of thing. Brianna was at Gramma's house for the long weekend, so at least I didn't need to keep track of her or entertain her while I was trying to do it all. Not all of it got done, but that is typical for me, in that I write everything out, but in descending priority so that if the last things don't get done, it is not so big a deal. But I didn't write down my appointments, figuring I had them on the calendar and in my head. I was staying in town specifically to go to book club on Friday night, otherwise I might have gone to fetch Brianna earlier.
So I spend a total of 5 hours (over two days) waiting in the smoky lounge for my car to be checked and maintained for my upcoming long drive. I went to four stores out of the six I had intended, but was frustrated because the grocery stores no longer carry Marianni dried cherries which are the only good ones as far as Brianna and I are concerned. I worked on painting, I strung beads (for Mom's B-day), and I knitted (for potential cold weather on upcoming long drive). I watched some garbage on TV for the first time in months. I planned to come back early on Sunday to watch more of the Complete Jane Austen on PBS, wondering how they were going to fit Emma which took 14 hours of CD time into two hours of viewing time. I swept the roof (inhaling metric tons of pollen), vacuumed the porch, sold my iPod on eBay, raked five can of leaf litter, had a teacher conference at Brianna's school (very favorable), washed five loads of laundry, planted daisies, watered them, and grilled some steak, all by Friday afternoon. I was beat! I was considering one more errand to Kmart, but decided to postpone and went to my room where I was confronted by the two remaining loads of laundry yet to be folded and put away. I did that and sat down to read and then paint. It was 9:30pm by the time I remembered my 7pm appointment at BAM. The irony of reading when I should be at book club made full impact. Last month it was just me, wandering the lonely aisles of BAM on a Friday night, wondering why no one can bother themselves to come to a book club meeting if they love to read so much and why are they so busy anyway. And then I obviously couldn't be bothered this month and left some other poor soul to wander the aisles alone. I really had meant to go, I had it scheduled and everything. Why did I forget? Had I gone out on that last errand, it may have occurred to me as I passed BAM as a 'yoo-hoo, shouldn't you be somewhere' little bell going off in my head. I was too tired, too busy, and I let someone down. And all I can do is email my profuse appologies and kick myself mentally. I hate failure, the more so when it is in myself.