it's 40k kilometers around the world's circumference
Many of us who had just finished our school program spent one evening at the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens listening to the South African musician Johnny Clegg. Clegg’s sounds can probably best be described by imagining an ethnically South African Dave Matthews Band. We all brought snacks and local wine to this family-friendly concert with its unique backdrop.
Opposite of many other large cities, in the core of the Cape Town dwells the wealthy, and the “suburbs” are where the poor reside within townships. As part of the school’s immersion program, we spend an afternoon having lunch at and visiting one such township, the Langa Township.
Much of what we see there could be expected, but there are a couple surprises that I want to share. First, within the township, there are a variety of socioeconomic classes displayed. There are the large families who live in overcrowded, small tin houses juxtaposed to the smaller families enjoying fenced-in, cleaner-looking homes.
The second surprise for me is that regardless of where and how a family lived, many are in possession of seemingly luxurious goods such as nice televisions, stereos, phones, refrigerators, and even cars. Anything in need of electricity is powered with stolen electricity off the power lines.
Finally, the last idea that I struggle with while touring this township is the fact that these families are opening up their homes to let foreigners like us photograph their lives. They do receive monetary compensation for doing so; however, it still feels very intrusive and uncomfortable.
Thirteen hundred miles at an average of 65 miles per hour takes 20 hours. Then add an extra hour because from Grand Junction, CO to Milwaukee, WI, we will pass through a time zone. That would mean arriving 21 hours after departing. And lucky for us, it takes slightly less, but not by much. The time is filled with books on tape, music, podcasts, discussions of grand plans for our apartment in Boston, and some sleep (but not by the driver of course).
We tap the Rockies, enjoy Nebraska and Iowa from the highway, and then almost get to Chicago when we head North to Milwaukee to meet up with Becky. This is the same Becky that we traveled with in Sicily about a month ago. We stay with Becky’s friend’s friend just outside Milwaukee. We arrive late, but have the whole next day to recover starting immediately with pancakes and coffee in the morning. We then head into the city of Milwaukee, enjoy a couple beers at Lakeshore brewery, followed up by a walk along the lake, and eventually end back at the house for swimming pool games. Today is another great break from the other part of this adventure, which takes place mostly on the open road.
While in Rome, I am put in charge of making the dinner reservations for the family. Having had some practice navigating foreign cities and finding places to eat over the last many months, I feel ready for the task. In addition, in my previous visits to Rome, staying with two friends very involved in the Roman cooking scene (both having had worked at restaurants), I am prepared to accept all of their food recommendations.
Here is how the dinners played out in chronological order for our week in Rome.
Ristorante Nino
Via Borgognona 11 (by the Spanish Steps)
+39 06 679 5676
Casa Coppelle
Piazza dell Coppelle, 49 (near the Pantheon)
+39 06 6889 1707
Riscioli
Via dei Giubbonari, 21
+39 06 686 4045
(Only went for appetizers and pasta as we are still full from our cooking lesson at lunch.)
Taverna Trilussa
Via del Politeama 23 (in Trastevere)
+39 06 581 8918
La Pratolina
Via degli Scipioni 248 (semi-near the Vatican)
+39 06 3600 4409
Riscioli
Via dei Giubbonari, 21
+39 06 686 4045
(Returned with everyone to taste more of the menu)
Pierluigi
Piazza Dè Ricci, 144
+39 06 686 8717
(Delicious Roman pizza)
A little shopping, a little eating, a little resting, a little writing, and a little reading, all followed by dinner at the apartment and a choral performance in the evening. Now that we are on our last day in Lucca, we can confirm that the apartment where we spent the week worked very well. We all felt comfortable with its two bedrooms, two bathrooms, living/dining room, enclosed patio, small yet functional kitchen, and washing machine. And the wifi works great, so there was little to complain about. We are located near Lucca’s famous wall, and would use said wall to walk to dinner or post-dinner performances. Free parking wasn’t far away and although we were not allowed to park within the city’s walls, we wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. Our “small” car was not small enough for some of the so-called two way roads in the old city.
Usually around this point of a vacation, and by that I mean a time when one activity is coming to an end, my mom focuses on the highlights of the last activity. This, of course, was before Charlotte. In Italy especially, it is probably inappropriate to redefine BC as Before Charlotte, but luckily BCE, a more neutral term, can also apply when taking into account the baby’s whole name. Ever since the family transition from BCE to CE, the mode of thinking, the topics of conversation, and the usage of online video chat have all undergone substantial changes. And they are changes for the better! Back to the topic of missing our week end’s debriefing, we are mostly focused on tomorrow’s plan to get to Rome, find the apartment, return the car, and meet up with the rest of the family. There are some logistics to take care of; however, we are all excited to be entering phase two of Italian Family Vacation.
Our last morning in Oriveto is spent underground. Orvieto hides caves and tunnels in the volcanic rock on which the city is build. In these underground passages that were originally mainly accessible by private homes above, we find wells, stairs, quarries, cellars, pigeon farms, and more. After a tour of the underground and a quick haircut, we are ready to make the drive north to Lucca.
For our lunch stop on the road, we pause our drive in Montevarchi, a very quiet town where everyone has seemed to disappear during lunch hours. Although the options are limited, with the help of TripAdvisor’s seven reviewed restaurants, we find Daniele e Riccardo, a hidden restaurant near the center of town. We grab a table and the waitress’ first question is if we speak English. Initially, I only realize that she has a strong accent, which I reasonably assume to be Italian. We answer yes, we do speak English, and that is when I realize her accent is not Italian, but instead Northern European. Our waitress, who is from Denmark, speaks much better English than Italian, and has found her way to this small town for two weeks because she won a contest back home. We enjoy several great appetizers along with a lot of bread, olive oil and vinegar before continuing on our way.
It is at this juncture that the primary driving responsibilities shift from my Dad to me. He is still a bit jet-lagged and the aggressive Italian driving style isn’t ideal in his tired state of mind. The first time I have driven since driving down to Southern California from the Bay Area before leaving the States was last night when we drove back from Perugia. The car is an automatic and easy to drive, and I enjoy getting back behind the wheel. We get to Lucca in the mid-afternoon, find our apartment, and before doing anything else, we go to the tourist office to start planning our week. We come up with many activities, especially evening activities, we grab a couple maps so that Dad can maintain his map folding prowess, and we set off to bravely explore the town of Lucca. We grab some gelato followed by dinner followed by a formal ballroom dancing display in a public piazza before heading back to the apartment to crash.
Known for its well-maintained city walls, Lucca started as an Etruscan city then a Roman colony in the second century BC. Beginning in the 12th century, the city was an independent republic for about five hundred years. A couple fun facts are that the famous Italian poet Dante spent some of his exile within the wall of this city, and composer Giacomo Puccini was born here.
On our first full day together, the parents and I venture out of Orvieto and into central Italy. Before the day is done we will hit Spoleto, Assisi and finally Perugia. Although the main reason for going to Spoleto is that it is en route to Assisi, we also wanted to visit because it is another ancient city built on a hill that dates back to Roman times and is now famous for its annual music festival (which we miss by a couple weeks). We park the car at the bottom of the city, find a way to the top stopping along the way for espresso and snacks, and eventually complete our circle back to the car among its narrow streets and cute buildings. I wish all long car rides could have stretch breaks as pleasant as Spoleto.
Assisi of the famous Saint Francis of Assisi is our second destination of the day. Logically, because it was the birthplace of St. Francis, founder of the Franciscan religious order, it is now home to the Franciscan monastery and an upper and lower church of St. Francis. Both churches are beautiful with their frescos depicting the lives of St. Francis and of Jesus. Between exploring some of the tourist hotspots, we enjoy a great meal at Trattoria Pallotta thanks to a little 3G plus TripAdvisor. The restaurant is a bit tricky to find despite my phone indicating our moving blue dot is directly over the restaurant’s pin. We look around for a bit and then notice that there is the sound of dishes coming from a window upstairs. We walk to the side of the building, notice some steps leading upwards, and eventually stumble upon our restaurant.
Our last and most lively stop of the day is in Perugia. Every year, Perugia holds a summer Jazz Festival, and out of luck, we have timed it so that we are there in the middle of this year’s festival. Along with big crowds of people, we find small bands set up on the side of the street, a keyboardist and a guitarist improvising together near a cafe, someone painting on the sidewalk using chalk, a marching band dancing its way down the cobblestone, and stages set up in every plaza. The energy of the city is exciting, and although we do not sit down to watch an entire performance, we stop for a short time at each performer we pass and enjoy their tunes. The energy of Perugia is the perfect way to cap off our full day around central Italy.
We find our car in the Sixt Rental parking lot, and I immediately indicate to my dad that the car might a little on the big side. I know that we will be going to small, old towns with narrow cobblestone streets and I fear that this car might want to make wider turns than the space provided. Once we arrive in Orvieto, some of these concerns become realized, and they continue to be reinforced as we drive around central Italy.
That said, it is this same small town, cobblestone feel of the old Italian cities that gives them their charm. Imagine an old hill-top Roman city with paved two-lane roads, stop lights and sidewalks, and part of the magic of stepping back in time is lost. In the end, we consider maneuvering the car on roads meant for people, horses, and maybe the occasional carriage as just part of our Italian adventure, and getting out of the car to minimize 10-point turns down to 5-point turns only adds extra excitement. Other than in a couple of the smaller, older towns, having a car (and a spacious car) is very convenient as almost all of central Italy becomes accessible to us.
We leave Sciacca, but before heading to northeastern Sicily, we drive through the Valley of the Temples near Agrigento. Gabe and I really appreciate having Becky here because as she explains what we are seeing, we better understand the importance of the seven monumental Greek temples all constructed in the Doric style during the 6th and 5th centuries. These temples are considered the best preserved ancient Greek buildings outside of Greece.
Our second two nights in Sicily are spent in Pace del Mela (Peace of the Apple), and although that city’s name would be p’unny when translated into English, there is unfortunately no pun present in Italian. Calling Pace del Mela a small town is an understatement. With its population of slightly more than 5,000 and its one central piazza, this town felt like home. Gabe’s father grew up here until the age of twenty-two when he left for Venezuela, and Gabe has lots of aunts, uncles and cousins still here. From his annual summer visits while growing up, everyone in town still seems to recognize him. Their reactions as they greet Gabe and tell us of times past is what small town Sicily is all about. Although there are not many people of our age, there were still lots of kids full of energy, always ready for a delicious meal, and never refusing to go the beach. After meeting Gabe’s aunt and settling in with a large full smile-shaped slice of watermelon, we venture to the town piazza for some gelato. Unique to Sicily, we enjoy our gelati in a brioche. The brioche absorbed the cream and the sugar and was a perfect end to the snack. In talking with Gabe’s family, ordering the gelati, and just generally getting by, English is not a very popular language in Pace, so Becky and I are forced to use and improve our Italian.
We eat a both very delicious and very filling dinner at Gabe’s aunt house. His aunt does not believe when we say that we are full, so by the time we stand from the table, we are probably full two times over. After dinner, I spend some time with Gabe’s aunt’s 3-yr old granddaughter, Katerina. We both sit on the couch, and Becky and I do a dramatic reading of Cappuccetto Rosso (Little Red Riding Hood) while she listens. Conveniently, when I say a word or phrase that I don’t understand, I get Katerina to point to the referring image or object on the page and learn a little Italian. After dinner, we venture to the slightly larger nearby town, taste a little more gelato, and walk along the coast before retiring for the night knowing that the next day would be busy.
We start the next day in the same bar that we had purchased our gelato the day before in the main piazza (there aren’t too many choices of restaurants). There’s a dish that gives kids an excuse to have gelato for breakfast, so I decide that I can use the same excuse. For breakfast, the three of us enjoy granita, ice cream, and brioche. While we are still on our sugar high, we continue on to Taormina. Other than having an in-use Greek theater overlooking Mount Etna and much of Sicily, Taormina is a charming town with a couple too many steps. It would be a surreal experience to watch a live performance in this Greek theater with its well-designed acoustics and fabulous vista. I realize that if my Sicily visit ends here, I would be more than satisfied, but there is still a packed 24 hours to go.
We drive back to Pace del Mela for lunch with the cousins. Again, I play around with my Italian replacing the words I don’t know with their Italian-ized Spanish equivalent, which means making sure to end works in vowels and pronouncing certain letters slightly differently. While waiting for the finishing touches of lunch, Gabe gives me a tour of his cousin’s house, which is the same house that his father grew up in. He also tells me a story of when his grandfather was sent out to purchase some cement for house work but ends up returning with a brand new television, the first television in the town. As it was a rough time for the whole town, his grandfather set up the television outside of the house, which is located near the central piazza, and at least 100 people would come to watch together. In my short time in Pace, I already started feeling the history and the community among all its residents.
After spending the hottest part of this 40 degree Celsius day at the beach, we return to Gabe’s aunt’s for dinner, and later join the entire town in front of the church for some sort of celebration. There is music, food, a little karaoke, and a lot of dancing. The diversity of ages all congregated on the dance floor can only happen in a small town like this one. As expected, everyone knows each other and we all have a great time.
Our last morning comes much too quickly as I feel so welcome and am not ready to leave all of Gabe’s cousins and family. They all wake up early to say goodbye and we enjoy a last granita and brioche together at the central piazza bar.
We enjoy our Sicily’s day one
At the famous Scala dei Turchi
Where there’s much fun in the sun
And the water’s anything but murky.
With the town of Agrigento so close
These weather-formed white stairs
Makes the sun with temperature most
Much much easier to bear.
And while we sunbathe and read
Finding chalk everywhere rock touched
Slow is the only day’s speed
For this beach came through in the clutch.
