1.19.2012
Comiendo por Italia
That's really all we did, eat our way through Italy, there's just no other way to put it. The collection of pictures I have from that aspect of our trip is huge, but is also missing hundreds of other things I could have taken pictures of but I wasn't fast or smart enough to be ready to catch. Don't get too hungry now... (I had to wait to post this until I had a big plate of lunch in front of me)
I have no idea what these last things are, and I didn't eat them, but maybe you can help me identify? I want to eat them... they look so... spiky. And Medieval. And like the perfect warfruit. I think I will just call them warcoflower.
1.16.2012
Soy más amable en español...
I have just come off of a fabulous couple of weeks of holiday vacations, complete with a visit from my sister, a sister-trip to Italy to visit Genny and her family for Christmas, a "typical Spanish" New Year in Puerta del Sol, and 10 days with Mum and Dad traveling my beloved country and showing off the best things. What have I learned through all of this? I am nicer in Spanish...
Maggie and I have explored this city as nightowls and museum-goers, but we also spent six days in northeast Italy in small towns and cities, being shoved full of Italian pasta, risotto, and pannetone. More on food in Italy to come, in a later blog post.
Genny's parents were wonderful hosts, her mom being the re-filler of plates and her dad dropping more and more walnuts on our plates to crack for dessert. It was an amazing week between Venice, the Alps, and the beautiful seaside town of Trieste, making Maggie and I realize that we really love the Friuli region, and all of the Veneto (if forced to move outside of Friuli).
We made it back just in time to be in Madrid for New Year's Eve, and even for the "practice round" of the bells and ceremony on December 30th. That's one of the best things about Spain: if there is a party to be had, it will be big, but it will also be doubled because why stop at just the real thing when you can have a dress rehearsal, too!? We were right in the middle of everything in downtown Madrid, probably shot for some LIVE on-news coverage of the event and in such a loud spot that we couldn't even hear the bells chime!
The tradition is that at midnight you put one grape in your mouth for each of the first twelve seconds of the new year, a tradition began by the grape farmers when they had a surplus year early in the 20th century. Not being able to hear it, and fearing losing the good luck we had been told we would have, I shoved ALL 12 grapes into my mouth at once, thanking myself for having the foresight to take out their seeds surgically earlier in the afternoon.
We also ate lentils for lunch, as per a joining of Spanish and Italian tradition, and wore red underwear (no way I'm going to miss being lucky in love in 2012), so we should be about as lucky as they come in this final year of life as we know it (re: apocalypse).
On January 2nd Mum and Dad made their way across the ocean and plopped into my living room for a nap before realizing there were no train or bus tickets left to Barcelona that night and forcing us to rent a car. A great idea until Dad informed us he had forgotten his driver's license. For being a very successful, handsome (I mean, where do daughters get half their genes from?), accomplished and normally quite with-it man, I was startled and a little less than enthused about this turn of events, but at least it put Mum in the driver's seat and me as perma-co-pilot-slash-DJ (DJ being the most important, I spin overplayed Spanish pop with the best of 'em) for the 5 days we had the car. We drove to Valencia where we enjoyed some horchata and warm weather, up through Bennacásim and Tarragona (highly recommended by everyone participating), and Barcelona, the ultimate goal. Mum didn't even have a nervous breakdown driving in Barcelona at night, which we were are grateful for and surprised by. That vein on her temple was threatening, to say the least...
We saw the AMAZING Reyes Magos (they celebrate the Wisemen/Epiphany day of January 6th the way we celebrate December 25th) parade in Barcelona by accident, collected dozens of candies (that Dad ate on the spot), and enjoyed family time... as best we could. I must say, I might not have been the most friendly tour guide, but as I've said, I think I am just friendlier in Spanish. When I speak English my true ginger-ness comes out, and that obviously brings temper. I'm sorry!
(ON a sidenote: my teachers have been giving me a hard time for being from Maine and being so cold lately when the temperature has been about 3 degrees C or higher, calling me "media española" or "half-Spanish"... If I am half Spanish now, they have told me that I will be FULL Spanish in a year if I stay and that means I will just be "morena" or "brunette/tan"... I AM FOR SURE STAYING NOW!)
So, with a nice trip through Zaragoza on the way home (also highly recommended) and a few great days of showing off the city I love so much, the parents have left and I am realizing that, while I could have been a more cordial tour guide, I am super grateful to have seen the old buggers and to have a real Reyes Magos and vacation with them for the first time ever or in a while. I love you guys!! Please come back soon, I want to go to the south of France!
I am back in school and planning on a good day+ trip outside the city with some cool Canadians... I will let you know how it goes!
Maggie and I have explored this city as nightowls and museum-goers, but we also spent six days in northeast Italy in small towns and cities, being shoved full of Italian pasta, risotto, and pannetone. More on food in Italy to come, in a later blog post.
downtown Versiola, Italy
Venezia!
While I don't love Venice, I could live here...
Udine, the beautiful capital of the Friuli region.
Just outside of Trieste
Swear on my life that this was an un-staged shot of a typical Italian morning. I cannot lie.
This was taken after we'd already eaten half of the pannetone. That means there was twice as much. In my belly...
We made it back just in time to be in Madrid for New Year's Eve, and even for the "practice round" of the bells and ceremony on December 30th. That's one of the best things about Spain: if there is a party to be had, it will be big, but it will also be doubled because why stop at just the real thing when you can have a dress rehearsal, too!? We were right in the middle of everything in downtown Madrid, probably shot for some LIVE on-news coverage of the event and in such a loud spot that we couldn't even hear the bells chime!
The tradition is that at midnight you put one grape in your mouth for each of the first twelve seconds of the new year, a tradition began by the grape farmers when they had a surplus year early in the 20th century. Not being able to hear it, and fearing losing the good luck we had been told we would have, I shoved ALL 12 grapes into my mouth at once, thanking myself for having the foresight to take out their seeds surgically earlier in the afternoon.
On January 2nd Mum and Dad made their way across the ocean and plopped into my living room for a nap before realizing there were no train or bus tickets left to Barcelona that night and forcing us to rent a car. A great idea until Dad informed us he had forgotten his driver's license. For being a very successful, handsome (I mean, where do daughters get half their genes from?), accomplished and normally quite with-it man, I was startled and a little less than enthused about this turn of events, but at least it put Mum in the driver's seat and me as perma-co-pilot-slash-DJ (DJ being the most important, I spin overplayed Spanish pop with the best of 'em) for the 5 days we had the car. We drove to Valencia where we enjoyed some horchata and warm weather, up through Bennacásim and Tarragona (highly recommended by everyone participating), and Barcelona, the ultimate goal. Mum didn't even have a nervous breakdown driving in Barcelona at night, which we were are grateful for and surprised by. That vein on her temple was threatening, to say the least...
We saw the AMAZING Reyes Magos (they celebrate the Wisemen/Epiphany day of January 6th the way we celebrate December 25th) parade in Barcelona by accident, collected dozens of candies (that Dad ate on the spot), and enjoyed family time... as best we could. I must say, I might not have been the most friendly tour guide, but as I've said, I think I am just friendlier in Spanish. When I speak English my true ginger-ness comes out, and that obviously brings temper. I'm sorry!
(ON a sidenote: my teachers have been giving me a hard time for being from Maine and being so cold lately when the temperature has been about 3 degrees C or higher, calling me "media española" or "half-Spanish"... If I am half Spanish now, they have told me that I will be FULL Spanish in a year if I stay and that means I will just be "morena" or "brunette/tan"... I AM FOR SURE STAYING NOW!)
So, with a nice trip through Zaragoza on the way home (also highly recommended) and a few great days of showing off the city I love so much, the parents have left and I am realizing that, while I could have been a more cordial tour guide, I am super grateful to have seen the old buggers and to have a real Reyes Magos and vacation with them for the first time ever or in a while. I love you guys!! Please come back soon, I want to go to the south of France!
I am back in school and planning on a good day+ trip outside the city with some cool Canadians... I will let you know how it goes!
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