A night to remember…New friends…A story told…

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Blurry photo. Handing off the camera to a kind gentleman to take our photo, I must have accidentally changed to “out of focus background,” which I overlooked until this morning. After our fabulous night, I couldn’t resist posting these photos, although they’re all out of focus. Daniela is in the photo with us at my left and Armenia at her left, sitting on the steps.
The interior of the “theatre” in the square, where, with mouths agape, we viewed each photo with our new friends encouraging us along, telling stories mainly in Italian, so proud to share their history with us. It was a night we’ll never forget. Y

Yesterday we thanked Michela, the owner of Not Only Pinocchio B & B. She suggested we walk down to the Bar Ferrari in the “square” around 9:00 pm when the locals mingle on Friday night (actually other nights also, from what we heard). She offered to meet us to “make the presentation” of us, as she said in her easy-to-understand broken English.

Neither of us couldn’t recall the last time we went out after 9:00 pm, old-timers and early risers that we are. Without hesitation, we decided to go, knowing full well that we’d have the steep walk on the return home in the dark, with the departure downhill.
Bringing our cell phones for light, we were relieved as we began the descent to see street lights atop the houses, lighting the way along the road every few hundred feet. We’d be alright on the return, albeit out of breath at the end of our long day.
Anticipating that we’d sit inside the bar Michela steered us to one of the several groupings of chairs and benches outside the bar after we’d each grabbed a beverage, me water with “gas” (as they say) as opposed to water with “no gas” and Tom a beer, again the total for both in Euro $1.50, US $1.95.
Many of us have old photos of our deceased and living relatives, bringing us a warm sense of our roots and family history.
As Michela presented us to an entire row of no less than eight older women, traditional in their shirtwaist dresses, cautious about newcomers, they, none less, welcomed us as we desperately tried to remember their names with little luck.
None of the photos were dated, but the clothing may indicate the early 1900s.
Moments later, we were seated on a bench with Michela as more and more residents gathered outside, undoubtedly curious about the strangers and yet comfortable in their familiar gathering spot on Friday nights after 9:00.
Based on the clothing, this wedding procession could have been in the 1950s. This was the unpaved road leading to the church and cemetery we highlighted in the post-dated July 16, 2013.
These are the inner working of the clock tower that clangs four times an hour, often irregularly, located next door to us. We laughed when the locals mentioned how close we were to the sound of the clock, using the typical head and hands signal one uses to indicate sleep, as they inquired about our ability to sleep through the noise.
This is the then unpaved road closest to the street, near the church, that leads to Bar Ferrari.
Our house is located on the right side of this road, difficult to see with the trees.
The construction of the road to our house, It’s hard to conceive of the degree of manual labor required to build the steep streets in this area in this era.
Other than a walking path for residents and animals, there was no road to our house in these photos. It’s hard to imagine the difficulty in getting from place to place, not only here but in remote areas worldwide.
We aren’t able to determine this period from this blurry photo.

Later, on our steep walk home, we couldn’t stop talking about our evening; the laughter, the camaraderie, the warmth, and the joy that we felt at having discovered, thanks to Michela, this world of people that were around us all along, the entire month we’d be here. 

We’ll be busy every Friday night after 9:00 pm for our remaining time in Boveglio. Plus…Bingo Night is on the horizon!

Tom determined that we translate this document that was drafted at the time of the presentation of the photos on the theatre walls. It was a slow, painstaking process as he read each letter to me as I typed them into Google Translate. Read below for the complete translation. Although not an old document, the photos on the walls had a tremendous influence on the village residents of Boveglio. We were honored last night as they proudly showed us the photos and their prized “theatre,” where beginning on August 10, Bingo will be held each night. Of course, we’ll attend!

The image of eyes to listen to our days is one of your most powerful communication vehicles. We experience this huge power every day through posters and billboards but also through reports and photos of authors who are able to get in touch with reality distant from the point of view of geography, culture, customs, and costumes

But there are other images, which beyond their artistic value and correspondence to the rules and techniques of photographers, can speak to our eyes as long as we are willing to stop for a moment and listen. It‘s the case of fifty-four shots proposed by the photographic exhibition “Once upon a time in Boveglio,” organized by the Loco to give everyone, villagers, vacationers, and casual visitors, a chance to learn more about a country, a region, and its people, educated and active in several moments of everyday life, ranging from work to sport and leisure from ceremonies, religious commemorations, civilians, all linked by the common thread of energy who spends that leaves an indelible mark on the territory and the people …

The Pro Loco invites all to spend between these photographs taking the time to see, admire, and understand. Potra happens that pausing a moment longer in front of the “snack,” a young man of Boveglio laid down his glass; there whispers an amusing anecdote of that day of what were the daily tasks of mothers and grandmothers so long ago.

The Pro Loco would like to thank those who, with their generosity and participation, have made possible the preparation of the exhibition by providing photos of their scrapbook. A special thanks to Francesco Ricci, who worked with passion and skill set-up and the technical part of the exhibition. Go to all the invitations to have sharp eyes, to listen.

Boveglio July 25, 2009K

KatiaSebastiana”

The local traveling Farmer’s Market…

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By the time I walked to the produce truck, it was surrounded by no less than 10 locals residents, anxious to buy their weekly supply of fruits and veggies.

Last Thursday, upon returning from Pescia with enough groceries to last two weeks, there was a produce truck parked across from the lot where we park the rental car.

Locals had gathered around, purchasing their fruits and vegetables. Having already purchased all the produce we needed at the time, it made no sense to make any additional purchases.

Without the use of chemicals on produce to enhance its preservation or ward off insects,, the vegetables we’re purchased seem to spoil quickly, except the cabbage and carrots we use almost daily for our coleslaw. Although we enjoy lettuce salads, we’ve found the lettuce spoils in a matter of a few days whereas the cabbage, if left uncut, may last until we shop again.

It felt awkward taking photos so I did so discretely.  Unquestionably, I was the only tourist in the bunch as I heard the locals chatting on endlessly in Italian.  I did my usual head nodding, hiding my camera under my shirt.

Having used all of the produce we bought last Thursday, we’re now down to only the cabbage, a few carrots, onions, and garlic.With our limited diet, a wide array of fresh vegetables certainly enhances our nutrient intakes but also the degree of enjoyment of our meals. 

Making chow mien a few nights ago, we used cooked cauliflower, cut into pea-size pieces as the base, as opposed to rice or chow mien noodles. It was delicious! Cauliflower can be used as a base instead of pasta, rice, beans, or grain for any meal. It takes on the flavor or the main dish without imposing any special flavor of its own.

Also, with a masher or food processor available, it can be mashed to appear and taste similar to mashed potatoes with the addition of butter, salt, and pepper. Once on the plate, one forgets it’s not potatoes and can enjoy it along with the other items in the meal. Unfortunately, an Irish potato loving guy, Tom’s not sold on this concept. I’ll give him credit for trying.

More fruit than vegetables, I was unable to replenish our supply of cauliflower.

In desperation, we do have a supply of canned green beans on hand. Certainly not a favorite but with no freezer space for frozen vegetables, we’ve had to adjust our objectives to accommodate our current needs. 

(Unsure of the exact arrival time of the produce truck, I kept checking outside to see if it had arrived. Last week, when we returned from shopping it was outside at about 3:30 pm.  Hopefully, the schedule is the same each week.  We shall find out soon enough).

In the US, most canned produce contains tons of highly processed salt. Not adverse to salt, we prefer to add our own Himalayan salt which is not chemically processed. Having used Himalayan salt for years so far it has traveled with us with our determined effort to avoid cooking with commercially processed salts.

In Italy, we’ve found most foods befitting our way of eating to be exactly as nature intended; plain. Of course, the markets are filled with the usual “junk processed foods” although considerably less than we’re used to seeing on the shelves in the US.

The baking section in the aisles is less than five feet wide as opposed to an entire aisle in the US.  If one is hoping to bake a boxed cake mix, there are few, if any options.  We were unable to find unsweetened baking chocolate, necessary to make our allowed “fudge” for an occasional treat. 

Plus, there is literally no coconut in the markets:  no raw coconut, no coconut flour, no coconut oil, further limiting some of our cooking and baking options.

Tonight for dinner; seasoned homemade chicken salad with onions, celery, hard-boiled free-range eggs, and of course, the finest pure mayonnaise we’ve found anywhere, made without chemicals; no HFCS, no sugars, no corn oil, no by-products.

Here’s what I purchased today for a grand total of Euro $4.09, US $5.33.  Prices were better at the grocery store but the freshness and convenience made it worth paying more.

This morning, for an additional entrée for tonight’s dinner, I cooked a pork loin roast, shredding and seasoning it with the fabulous Italian pasta sauce we found without sugar. This is a replacement for the usual sugary barbecue sauce. The end result: some mighty fine tasting “pulled pork,” minus the bun. 

Needing change, I handed the vendor a single bill for Euro $50, (US $65.10), concerned she’d refuse the larger bill.  No problem!  She had a fanny pack filled with money!

Throw our staple, coleslaw, into the mix, a big bowl of “fresh” steamed green beans for a hearty, healthy meal for tonight’s dinner with leftovers for tomorrow night. Yes, it might be an odd combination of items but who’s to say what we “should have” at any given meal? 

At 3:25 Tom saw the produce truck coming down the winding road heading toward our neighborhood. Grabbing my grocery bag, camera, and Euros, I headed outside to the vendor, thrilled I hadn’t missed its arrival. 

It was obvious that a stop to our tiny neighborhood might be toward the end of their route for the day with the resulting several empty bins. But, I was able to find carrots, green beans, and eggplant. This should be enough to last us with what we have on hand to get us through the next several days until we leave on our road trip next Tuesday to grocery shop again.

Going forward, we’ll purchase produce every other Thursday at the market in Pescia, enough to last a week, no longer dealing with spoilage, supplementing with what the produce truck has on hand on the alternating Thursday.  This is a perfect solution to our spoilage issues.

There’s nothing like food and love. In abundance, they fill the belly and the heart, both of which hunger for replenishment, while never losing interest in the in the prospect of the next opportunity to savor in their delights.

Mechanical aspects in our 300 year old temporary home…Many photos include new homemade pizza recipe using local ingredients…

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This paper towel holder is a dowel, a piece of string tied in loops on the ends to be hung on any available hook. Simple and clever.

Today is a full three weeks we’ve been living in a charming 300-year-old stone house, nestled in the mountains among a cluster of other attached homes built centuries ago, into the exquisitely forested and farmed hills and valleys of Boveglio in the Province of Lucca, Tuscany, Italy.

It’s at about this time, as we’ve become more settled, that we wander about our vacation rentals with a more keen eye observing its quirks and nuances, some of which may be a violation of code in the US and other countries which we find to be unique and interesting. 

More cloth wiring in the kitchen with exposed bulbs over the sink.
The electrical wiring throughout the house is all exposed, using cloth as opposed to the conduit most of us are familiar with as a code requirement in the US and other countries.  We doubt that building/code compliance inspectors travel around inspecting all of these centuries-old properties.
As shown above, in the kitchen, the main source of lighting is these two fixtures over the kitchen table, encased in glass globes. Energy-efficient as the “curly” energy-efficient bulbs we’d used in the US, this particular style takes approximately five minutes to light up the area which can be a little tricky at night.
As the designated cook (Tom’s the dishwasher), I’ve had the most difficultly operating the stove. It’s a newer “made-to-look old” range and oven and there’s nothing wrong with it. 
This hanging plant is used to hide an electrical outlet.
It’s the same a stove type we used in Belize; gas without an automatic pilot.  One has to hold in a button while pushing in the dial to ignite the oven or burner. It sounds easy, but the trick is in the amount of time one has to hold in the button and the dial to keep the burner ignited.  Let go of one too soon and gas is free-flowing without ignition.
I know it’s not rocket science nor does it require an inordinate amount of skill.  For some odd reason, I struggle with this, trying desperately to figure it out on the own without having to ask Tom.  Stubborn, I guess.  On occasion, even he, Mr. Coordinated, has trouble with this.  In several instances, we’ve had to stop, open the screen-less window wide waiting for the gas to clear to later begin again.
These cloth wires are above the small shower and near the sink in the large main bath.
Two things here to notice: One, this is Tom is he’s walking down the long hallway for which he obviously has to duck. Yes, he’s banged his head many times getting me into the habit of saying, “Don’t bang your head!” as he walks to the bedroom.  Two, this is Tom desperately needs a haircut. We’ve yet to find an available barber in any of the villages we’ve visited. His last haircut was in March in Belize for which we wrote a post with photos. Ponytail or shave?  Which will it be?
This doorway to the main bathroom was cut to fit the frame, also low, requiring that I also duck when entering or leaving. 
Another head ducking/banging doorway to a guest bedroom.
Earlier, we’d posted a different photo of access to the patio from the stone stairway. These stone steps, continue down a full flight, making this the most hazardous spot in the house. Although this patio is our new sunning spot and only place to hang laundry outdoors, we spot each other each time we hike up there. No happy hour is to be had on this patio! 
This is an old, now unused wood burning stove (we think unused) in the long hallway.
The uneven multiple steps in the long hallway along with the variety of low ceilings, present an ongoing challenge for both of us. Tom is roughly four inches taller than I am creating a much more hazardous situation for him.
The heating elements for the radiators are behind this hanging curtains in the long hallway. Hmmm….

Also, there are two uneven steps from the hallway into the master bedroom.  We’ve both adopted a habit of reaching around to the wall on the right of the doorway to turn on the overhead light.  This process reminds us of the two steps.

This meter, most likely electrical, is in the interior hallway by the front door.

During daylight hours, we leave the hallway light on all day (the only light that remains on) as a reminder to tread carefully through the areas of steps. At night, we bring our mugs filled with ice water to leave at each of our nightstands and also use the en suite bathroom to avoid the long walk down the hall.

Tom was washing dishes one night while I tended to the laundry. Hearing this box, turn off and on rapidly startled me. I ran upstairs to ask Tom when he told me it an “on-demand” hot water heater. I’d heard of these in the US, but never heard one of them in operation.  In any case, most systems are energy efficient here in Italy.
Also, during the day, we keep the bedroom door, the screen-less windows and shutters closed. These two steps keep the bedroom cool for sleeping and more importantly, keeps the flying insects from flying around our heads at night. 

In our old lives, if our dishwasher or dryer broke down, we’d be in a tizzy for days until an overpriced repairman arrived with a fix.  Now, we chuckle as we hang the wash outside, do dishes by hand, swat flies and bees flying indoors all day, cook food in batches (as opposed to leftovers) with no microwave and look down while bending our heads when we walk around the house.

This green plastic hose could be anything. 
This week, we’ll cook all the remaining frozen meats so we can defrost the tiny freezer before we go grocery shop again.  At this point, the buildup of ice is occupying a third of the space. I can’t recall the last time we defrosted a freezer.
This carved from the stone area inside the main door entry may be the water or gas meter.
 Much to our mutual delight, neither of us complains or whines to each other.  We observe, discovering solutions, and adapt accordingly.  All of these minor inconveniences become a part of the experience, a part of our personal growth as we strive to adapt, and a part of the story we’ll someday tell to anyone who’ll listen, in English, please.
Last night’s yet to be baked homemade low carb, gluten-free, grain-free, starch-free, and sugar-free pizza made with “real” mozzarella (often referred to as buffalo mozzarella in the US) and locally grown ingredients.  The stringiness factor was tripled from the pizza we’d made in the past using “manufactured” bagged shredded mozzarella which we hope to never use again. It was our best pizza ever! I’d cut double the ingredients in order to make another freshly made pizza for tonight with no microwave for reheating. Nothing like two nights of freshly made pizza!

A breathe of fresh air…A most entertaining conversation…A hurried road trip…

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The chaos at the grocery store in Pescia inspired us to avoid shopping again on a Friday, obviously a busy day. It was surprising that these little villages have enough population to attract this crowd.  The cashiers sit while checking out customers and there’s a charge for carts (Euro $1.00) and for each plastic grocery bag (Euro $.05).

Yesterday afternoon, as we watched the movie, Zero Dark Thirty on my laptop I was startled when I heard the door buzzer. A funny thought entered my mind, “Gee, it’s a holiday! Who’d be at the door unannounced on a holiday?” Yeah, right! No 4th of July holiday here in Tuscany!

Tom, who is hard of hearing after 42 years on the railroad, doesn’t hear the buzzer. Together, we dashed down the stone steps to the door, surprised to find Lisa’s parents, Cicci and Dano, and another woman at the door, none of whom speak English.

Knowing we were in for a challenge with the language barrier we were in a quandary as to their visit. As it turned out, Luca had sent me an email while we were watching the movie to tell me they were planning to stop by to visit which I had failed to read.

On our way back through Collodi from shopping in Pescia, maneuvering two roundabouts, we began the steep climb back up the mountain to Boveglio, a 30- minute drive with many hairpin turns and guardrail free narrow roads. From what we can determine online this mansion is the Villa Garzoni.

A few days ago, I’d asked Luca if they had a feather duster so we could clean the house. Instead, they brought Santina, the local cleaning lady! OK. We can deal with this.

A half-hour of convoluted conversation commenced, discussing the days of the week she’ll come clean, the number of hours she’ll clean each week, the tasks she’ll complete, and the pay in Euros. 

After lots of arms waving around, my fumbled attempt at the translation of Italian, more head-nodding, we came to an “understanding.” (By the way, Tom went back upstairs after the first 15 minutes, bored and confused). 

Santina started cleaning today continuing to do so every Friday morning for our remaining eight weeks in Boveglio. For two hours, she’ll clean the entire house, (excluding the laundry) for a price of Euro $16, US $20.85, per week. We couldn’t be more delighted to have been able to arrange for her help.

Again, nodding and many “grazie(s)” later they finally left. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, grateful for the freedom of not having to wash the stone floors and dust the zillions of shelves, ledges, windowsills, bookcases, and tabletops that are everywhere in this 300-year-old house. The price? Couldn’t be better! The conversation?  Priceless! I had the time of my life.

Next, our challenge was to clean up before the cleaning lady comes, a habit I had acquired years ago, preferring that the cleaning lady wouldn’t have the responsibility of dealing with our clutter.

After watching the remainder of the movie, we ran around de-cluttering, a task Tom found pointless which I thoroughly enjoyed, knowing the unpleasant cleaning part would soon be done by Santina.

One might think…”They’re spoiled. Two retired people that won’t clean.” The reality, for years I had a medical condition that made heavy cleaning impossible and now feeling well, we still each have to deal with our bad right shoulders which we tend to favor for fear of worsening the condition. 

Having help is well worth the Euro $16, US $20.85, for the sake of saving the wear and tear on the shoulders from scrubbing stone floors. Before we know it, we’ll be packing, once again on the move hauling the heavy luggage.

Using Google Translate, I typed a note to Santina when she arrived promptly at 10:00 am, explaining that we were leaving to get change and groceries and would be back before she’d be finished at noon. Also, I made a list of what we’d like cleaned in general terms: floors, dusting, make the bed, clean bathrooms, etc.

The closest bank is in Collodi, next door to the smaller of the two grocery stores where we’ve shopped. With the half-hour drive on the zigzag mountain road, we’d have an hour to do our shopping and return. 

Tom dropped me at the grocery store while he ran into the bank, getting stuck in the tiny revolving electronic security tube. If it had been me, I’d have panicked in the tiny tube. Tom merely became frustrated while he figured out a means of getting out with no instructions in English. 

Apparently, his RFID wallet set off the metal detector in the tube. Finally, he figured out how to get out. Then, the non-English speaker banker handed him large bills rather than the smaller bills he needed.

By the time he found me in the grocery store, his patience was worn thin. Unable to find a few grocery items, he insisted we go to the larger store in Pescia and leave what I’d already placed in the tiny basket. 

Time was marching on. The store in Pescia was another 10 minutes away. I suggested we pay for the items already in the cart and then head to Pescia, reducing our time finding these same items again. He agreed. Then we were stuck in line behind a woman whose credit card wouldn’t go through. Another seven or eight minutes ticked away.

It was important for us to be back in time to pay Santina. Tom and I are both sensitive to being on time and in keeping our word.  There was no way in the world we’d fail to return in time if we could help it.

By the time we reached the grocery store in Pescia, it was 11:08. When Tom couldn’t find a parking spot he dropped me off at the door. Not wanting to take time to pay a Euro for a grocery cart, I entered the store looking for the handheld baskets provided at no charge.  Not a one was in sight. I decided to carry what we needed until Tom showed. 

My arms filled with grocery items and still no basket in sight, Tom appeared immediately cognizant of my dilemma, taking off to find a basket. Running helter-skelter around the store, we gathered up the items we needed to begin a 10-minute wait in line. We’d never make it back on time. 

On the road again, he was determined to maneuver the winding hairpin turns as fast as possible. Gripping the sides of my seat, I held on for dear life desperately trying to keep my mouth shut. He’s a good driver. I only commented a few times, reminding him that our lives were more important than an impatient car behind us or being five minutes late to get back to Santina with the Euros.

At precisely, noon, we pulled into the parking spot near our house, grabbed the grocery bags to find Santina coming down the steps, her hands filled with her load of cleaning supplies and equipment. It was obvious she was excited to show us what she’d done.

The stone floors were still wet when we returned.  We were grateful for Santina’s commitment to clean every Friday.

Walking from room to room, me at her side, she rattled on in Italian on what she’d done, obviously proud of her work. Over and over I said, “molto bello” (very nice) and grazie (thank you). She was pleased. I was more than pleased. 

The stone floors, some still wet from her vigorous washing, looked better than we’d imagined they could. The shelves were now dust free and a freshness permeated the air. What a relief to know that we don’t have this stone cleaning task facing us each week!

The floor in the long hallway had already dried but looked perfect.  We couldn’t have been more pleased with Santina’s hard work.

Rushing around today we had little time for photos. We’ll be back tomorrow with more photos and the story of our Friday night “out on the town” at a new location.

It’s time to get out of my bathing suit to dress for the evening. Clouds rolled in over what had been started out as a clear sky only minutes after we’d attempted our one hour of sunning in our new chaise lounges on the patio. Tomorrow’s another day.

A day in the life…Laundry and language challenges…

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I’d expected to see more hanging laundry this morning, hoping to take photos.  But, it was early morning.  This was the only hanging item I found on my walk. Perhaps others have similar slow working front-loading washers with the first batch of the day still agitating.

It’s rather odd not to have a clothes dryer. Neither of us has hung clothes on a clothesline since the 1950s. We haven’t had access to a clothes dryer since we left the US in January 2013. 

Our small clothes “dryer.”

Who knew in our comfy lives in the US that a dryer was a hot commodity? I guess we always took it for granted. Today’s dilemma? With this small portable clothes drying rack, where do we hang the big sheets? This morning I ran around looking out the windows to see if a normal clothesline existed on the grounds.

Are the vine wires a clothesline option in the garden? Nope, too high to reach.

The only possibility of a clothesline that I could see were the bare wires hung in an area of the garden for growing vines, none of which were covered yet. Could we use those? Tom, insisting that we investigate before we assume the wires were acceptable for our use, we headed down the hilly walk to the garden. 

Harder to reach “wires” in the yard, again unsuitable for hanging clothes.

Walking around the yard, closest to the house, there was no clothesline to be found. The cables were too high to reach, leaving us stuck with the tiny rack or any possible railings. Having intended to wash two more loads today, my plans are dashed. Certainly, whatever spot we discover, won’t leave room for hanging addition wet laundry.

Early morning venture to the garden.  Cloudy day.

As we wandered around the world so far, we’ve observed that most people hang their laundry over window ledges, veranda railings, and across any appendages that may offer a holding place with sun, a breeze, or both.

As we walked to the garden we noticed these live vines over a doorway to another “attached house.  Tom grumbled, “You’d never catch me walking through those vines each time I went outside!”  I thought they were cute.

As we strive to adapt, we find ourselves in a quandary at times as to acceptable solutions (does it fit the local etiquette?) as well as practical solutions (does it work for us?). 

I took this unfamiliar walkway wondering what was on the other end.

At times, the answer seemed obvious, but we also ask, “Is this acceptable to the owner of the property?” After all, we are “renters,” a state of being neither of us has experienced in over 40 years, constantly striving to be considerate and careful with other people’s property.

With the front-loading washer it took over two hours to wash one load. The manual to the washer, of course, is in Italian. Making every effort to translate it using Google Translate, there appeared to be no shorter setting that produced a strong spin. 

This entrance appeared well maintained.

Our first few loads came out sopping wet before we translated the manual and figured out a spinning cycle. Not wanting to start over, it took two days for the items to dry. 

A moment later, I was walking on another narrow passageway. It was like a maze. Of course, I was concerned, I didn’t get lost which appears possible. I have no sense of direction, never have.  Tom’s good for that!

When we made our plans over a year ago I had fully intended to learn Italian using an online course I downloaded.  Time slipped away and it often does and I know only the minimum. In two months, we’ll leave Italy.  In a short time, I’ll have forgotten my desire to learn Italian, facing yet another language to fuss over. 

The entrances to many homes are particularly appealing to the eye.

Never staying in one location for more than three months, inspires me to let go of the angst over not learning a country’s language. Instead, we focus on doing the best we can to communicate while enjoying our time enmeshed in the culture and its people.

This was the view over the railing, tile rooftops, green valleys, clouds rolling in over the hills.

Soaping up a few paper towels I headed to the veranda washing the railing which wasn’t as dirty as I’d expected. It will be a good place to hang the sheets. It’s not sunny but it is breezy, accomplishing two of our laundry hanging criteria.  Oh good grief, there’s a plan for everything!

Looking down as I take each careful step hopefully prevents clumsy me from falling on the uneven stone walkways.  On the way back up, I have the momentum of the climb to aid in sure-footedness.

Taking a break from writing this today, I ventured out on my walk, snapping a few photos, greeting a few neighbors with a hearty “buon giorno,” hoping not to sound like a fool, puffing and panting, all the while. 

What a morning!  What a view!

Today, I traveled further than in the past and found several narrow roads I’d yet to explore, with a renewed enthusiasm to venture further and further each time as my ability to climb these hills improves.

Some property owners cordon off their lawns and patios for privacy.
Dog, “cane” on my return walk.  No leash laws in Tuscany.

After all, the road of exploration never ceases to amaze me and…never seems to end. Now, off we go to hang the sheets! See the photos below.

Impeding our view for the day, if we decide to sit outside in the cool weather we’ve had since Monday.  But, well worth using this railing for the hanging.  Clouds hovering above may put a “damper” on our sheet drying. 
Its a guy thing.  I suggested using the rain gutter.  Tom ran to get the hangers to avoid getting the sheets dirty.  Then, he moved the table and chairs to ensure the sheets didn’t touch the tabletop.

Under the Tuscan Super Moon…”A Nightime Garden in Tuscany”…Cooking with herbs from the garden…

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Aware that last night was the night of the full “Super Moon” we kept a watchful eye as the sun began to set behind the mountains. We hoped that redness in the sky would indicate a bit of warmth today, but its quite cool as it was yesterday was a sweater day.
We love photos of the moon, although my photo taking skills are limited.
Moments later, the clouds moving quickly.
Yesterday, a cool day, kept us indoors part of the day, with the veranda calling us to bundle up and partake of the beauty around us.  The brisk winds whipped around us as we huddled in our now “usual” spots overlooking the mountains and valleys of Tuscany. 
How quickly we forget the “chill” in Minnesota, finding ourselves whining about 55 degrees and a breeze!  We have been in relatively warm weather since last November, ranging from a low of 55 (Tuscany, yesterday) to a high of 105 (Dubai, a month ago), certainly nothing to complain about. 
Tom, dressed for warmth on the chilly day, still enjoyed lounging, time on the veranda. Can’t you tell by the smile on his face? When I packed that jogging suit, he said, “When will I ever wear that?” At least I got a few items right in my over-packing frenzy!
Although we never really get bored, with no Sunday Morning to watch, no news, no mindless drivel, all without a working TV, on chilly days we itch to get outside. With the poor Internet signal here and our MiFi not working, watching “free” online shows is sketchy. 
Using fresh herbs from the garden on our patio, we made Italian meatballs using the finest grass fed ground beef.
 Most TV series may be purchased on various sites which seem to work well for us with the Internet connection in the house. Prices range from $12.99 to $19.99 for a full season, certainly no more than renting a number of videos.
It was hard to believe that our hosts, Lisa and Luca had prepared this herb garden for our exclusive use while we’re here. 
Recently, at night we’d watched the entire 3rd season of Downton Abbey, one episode a night, and now we’re doing the same with the recent production of The Bible. Adapting to a different life than we knew.
Caring for and watering our herb garden is easy with this traditional Tuscan outdoor sink on the veranda.

With no air conditioning or fans in this house in Boveglio, we should be grateful for the cool nights. When we arrived over a week ago, it was in the high 80’s during the day, leaving us comfortable both day and night. The three foot stone walls of this solid house provide a definite cooling effect.

Last night after a fabulous dinner of homemade Italian meatballs made with herbs from our own garden on our patio, topped with Marinara sauce, stuffed with fresh, locally made mozzarella balls, topped with Provolone and Parmesan cheese, a side of fresh organic asparagus and a lofty salad, we felt a walk would be in order.

This window is above the stairwell that goes down to the basement where we wash clothes and access the main door.

As the sun started to set, as we anxiously awaited the appearance of the “Super Moon,” we walked up and down the various areas of the expansive yard with more growing gardens at our disposal. 

Tom suggested we take this shot again.  The last one we posted was unreadable due to the glare of the sun during the day.

A few special areas caught our eye. Although it was almost dark, we delighted in taking these nighttime shots of what we termed, “A Nighttime Garden in Tuscany.”

Learning to take photos has been a daunting task for me. When we acquired our new camera in April, we’d decided not to take the time to edit any of the photos. 

More herbs for our pleasure in the enormous backyard.

If a photo appears blurry from my lack of experience and unsteady hand, it is tossed into the recycle bin. Otherwise, you see them all here, some good, some not so good and some, often to my surprise, quite good.

Is this perhaps an old fashioned “courting bench?”  I wonder what stories this could tell.

Continuing to experiment with the zillions of settings on the camera, I’ve yet to find the perfect combination but continue to try. It astounds me that I do continue to try since I’m the sort who, if not naturally good at something, can easily move on to something else. Photo taking doesn’t come naturally for me.

Soon, these cherries will be ripe.  Due to my restrictive diet I can’t eat any fruit, but my eyes behold their beauty with great admiration.
Is this a pear tree?  Pears didn’t grow in Minnesota from my recollection.  We’ll verify our finds next time Lisa or her mother tend the gardens. 
With no cookbooks with me, I’ll be researching online for new recipes to make use of the wide array or herbs growing everywhere. 
Years ago, I was obsessed with Vinca Vines, growing this variegated leaf plant everywhere, including indoors where surprisingly, when watered frequently, they did quite well during the Minnesota winters. To see them here brought a warm feeling for my sister Julie, who shared my passion for Vinca Vines.
Anyone recognize these flowers?  Please comment if so.
Even a vine wrapping around a branch held special interest for us last night in the dark.
Sorry.  This is the second showing of these precious flowers by our mailbox. Gee, can we get mail here?  Supplies would be in order to take to Africa where we think we can’t get mail.
After taking photos on the grounds, we found our way to our usual spot on the veranda, awaiting the appearance of the “Super Moon.” As we sat down, we were disappointed when we didn’t see the moon in the same spot as the previous night.  

With many clouds in the sky, it didn’t appear to be enough to obstruct its view. Waiting patiently, chatting away, we squealed when suddenly it appeared to our left, big, bold and bright. Having yet to learn all the proper settings for moonlight, we winged it getting these, although not as clear and bright as we’d have liked, leaving us with a reminder of this special night for us in Boveglio, Lucca, Tuscany.
 Sooner or later, I’ll get it right.
Actually, so far, every night has been special in Tuscany. 
 Ugh, is that a plane, a bug or an alien spaceship?  Note the double exposure of the moon toward the center.  Bear with me.  I’m working on it.

Here’s the inside of our new home…plus details of our trip to Collodi…

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My bathroom.  Tom took the smaller bathroom in our master bedroom. There’s no tub, the shower is small but it serves its purpose.
The authentic Tuscan kitchen; no dishwasher, no microwave, no small appliances, no electric coffee pot but otherwise well-stocked kitchen with items used for making pasta, bread and sauces.  We’re improving.
The TV wasn’t working again until today when the owner’s parents stopped by to install a new cable box.  However, we’ve yet to find a single English speaking channel.  In Belize, we were able to get all US networks.  Here we’ll watch movies and shows.
The master bedroom has a comfortable bed, good pillows, and blankets.  With no AC or fans in the entire house and no screens on the windows, we still open the windows at night for some cooler air. However, surprisingly, we are comfortable in the heat of Italy’s summer.  The thick stone walls keep the house cool.
Yes, there are some basic amenities we are living without as described in yesterday’s post. But, after today’s trip to Collodi, a half-hour drive through narrow winding mountain roads, we are much more at ease.

Walking onto the patio required serious maneuvering over the side of a flight of stone steps, not for the faint of heart.

As we commenced the long drive to Collodi from Boveglio.


Narrow roads.

Me and Pinocchio outside the children’s park.

A sign on a stone wall advertising Pinocchio.

Metal sculpture of the author, Carlo Lorenzini 1826-1890, aka Carlo Collodi, and his Pinocchio.

Another sculpture of Pinocchio.

On our long drive from Venice to Boveglio, Tom was worried about not having enough euros with us when our credit cards didn’t work at a few unattended gas stations, forcing us to use part of our few remaining euros.
Collodi is a popular tourist attraction as the home of the author of the favorite children’s story, Pinocchio.
 

 Much of the town’s activity centers around the story of Pinocchio.
Today on the way to Collodi, we purchased gas at a station in Bottocini with an attendant who had no trouble getting the card to work for gas at which proved to be approximately $6 a gallon. 

Botticino, the little town where we purchased gas for $6 a gallon.

Once we reached Collodi traveling along the treacherous guardrail free road, we had a few goals in mind: exchange US cash into euros at a bank, buy enough groceries to last for two weeks and find a drugstore, yet again, to purchase contact lens solution, a rare commodity in certain parts of the world. 
One of the main streets in Collodi.
At the bank, we walked into a single person glass round bulletproof tube, opening as one enters after pushing a button.  Then the door closed behind me while scanning for possession of any metal, such as a gun. Then for 30 seconds, I was locked in the tube. 
 
Outside the entrance to a small hotel in Collodi. 

Tom had prepared me as to the procedure that he’d read about many years ago. These tubes were installed in all Italian banks due to rampant bank robberies in Italy. With the installation of these tubes, bank robberies are now non-existent.

 
 Driving around Collodi on one-way streets.
Once inside the bank, with no other customers in sight, I stood at the teller’s window for no less than 30 minutes, while the manager of the bank and the teller ran some types of reports for me, all the while chattering in Italian, after taking my passport. All I wanted was US $800 converted to euros. 

 The road as we were leaving Collodi.
Good thing I was the one doing this since Tom’s temper was about to flare with frustration. When I realized this was going to be a lengthy process, I suggested Tom sit in the waiting area and read and Italian newspaper which he did.
 The road back “home.”
Fin toally, walking out the bank with our euros, we sauntered to a coffee shop next door, hoping for a plain cup of coffee with cream. Apparently, no such coffee was available, only espresso, too strong for our liking. Also at US $4 a cup, we decided to pass on the coffee and head to the grocery store next door. 

Enchanting villages line the narrow road to the top, where we live in Boveglio.

The grocery store proved to be exactly what we needed.  Although small they carried almost all the items on our list except coconut oil, coconut flour, diet 7 Up for Tom’s occasional cocktails, and the equivalent of US bacon. 

A semi-truck was in front of us, part of the way on the return drive.  Tom got a kick out of seeing it maneuver the narrow winding roads. 

Instead, we purchased Prosciutto, wonderful grass-fed meats, locally made cheeses, and organic vegetables all grown in the area. Our two-week grocery purchase was US $326 for which we were pleased.

 Wonder how it works out when two semis, meet on this road.  Fortunately, we didn’t have to witness that.  Finally, this semi turned off into a paper recycling plant.

We purchased prime rib; the best looking two night’s of short ribs I’ve ever seen; two night’s of grass-fed chicken, two nights of pork roast;  three night’s grass-fed ground beef for making meatballs, about five pounds of various cheeses and all of the ingredients necessary to make our favorite staple, homemade cheese crust pizza along with a batch of ten Italian sausages attached by strings. 

More houses high in the hills.
We also included four dozen eggs, real cream, laundry soap, dish soap, regular 7 UP for Tom’s drinks, bar soap, toilet paper, and paper towels. All in all, we actually have enough to last us over two weeks with a plan to dine out in Benabbio twice a week at that cozy Italian restaurant we loved Il Cavallino, having already made an online reservation for this upcoming Saturday night.
Continuing on the road.  There’s no spot where one can stop to take photos.  It’s way too dangerous to stop along these roads.

After the grocery shopping, we stopped at a pharmacy where we found contact lens solution, leaving me stocked up for the two and a half remaining months we’ll be in Boveglio, Tuscany.

 Apparently, a storm washed out these trees along the road.

Greatly relieved to be well-stocked with groceries, euros, and gas, we’re feeling more at ease, able to embrace this peaceful area, its smells, sights and sounds knowing that, for a time, this is home.  Not too bad, really.

Part 2 Venice…One more city knocked off our dream list….Also, update on our new home…

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With the hot sun, the massive crowds, the going rate of $125 to $150 a couple and as evidenced here, the gondola traffic jam, we decided to forego the 30 minute ride in the clogged canals.

Today, we’ll post our remaining photos of Venice, first updating our current status which we’ll write about tomorrow in more detail, with much enthusiasm.

A simple doorway renovated for modern day.

We arrived in Boveglio, Lucca, Tuscany yesterday around 5:00 pm after a long and difficult drive from Venice, estimated by Google Maps to be a 3 1/2 hour drive which ultimately proved to be a 4 1/2 hour drive.

Another old door.

Reading road signs in Italy is different than reading road signs in the US. Its not about the language difference since there’s nothing to reading a word written in Italian, following a map. The difficult part was the fact that roads are not clearly marked. One can drive for a half hour before seeing a sign that confirms (or not) that one is on the correct highway.

Hard to resist. Fun to see.

Plus, there is considerably confusing maneuvering through small towns along the way to stay on the correct road.  We only had to turn around twice, luckily catching it before we got too far.

Inside yet another square on our lengthy walk to St. Mark’s Basilica.

Thank goodness for Google Maps and our MiFi which worked great providing us with a good signal along the highway, during the last hour. The mountainous drive from Florence (Firenze) to Boveglio took us through 29 tunnels!

 Inside the courtyard of the Universita Ca Foscari was a decoration made of trash.

The scenery inspired me to take photos but the massive guardrails prevented getting any good shots. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stop to take photos with no shoulder or rest stops on the many toll roads we traveled.

 The Universita Ca Foscari entrance.

As for the rental car…I stood in line for one entire hour at the Budget Rental window inside the Marco Polo Airport while Tom waited outside with the luggage. Meeting a friendly couple from Chicago while in line, the wife was so kind to go outside to watch our luggage while Tom came inside to show his driver’s license.  

Leonardo da Vinci exhibit was being held at the museum.

Tom will be the sole driver of the tiny Fiat six speed vehicle. I must admit I’m not the best driver (OK.  I said it.). Although in an emergency, I could drive a stick shift but it has been 30 years since my last attempt. With the long drive “UP UP UP” to our summer home in Boveglio, with NO guardrails, no thank you.

More delectable looking confections.

We awaken this morning in a mountaintop paradise, the sound of nearby church bell chiming on the half hour and hour (not always consistent), in a 17th century renovated stone house in the true Tuscan style and we’re once again relishing in our unique surroundings, filled with contentment and joy.

Lots of activity.

Tomorrow, we’ll post photos, tell you the sacrifices we must make while here, missing some of our familiar creature comforts and the enhancements to our lives that only this step back in history can bring.

Water buses along the Grand Canal.

I’ll tell you one tidbit now…they don’t take credit cards in this area for gas, groceries or restaurants.  Last night, starved after our long day, we found our way to the tiny town of Bennabio where the owner, Alessandro, of the town’s only restaurant Il Cavallino Bianco, opened an “account” for us, telling us we can pay our bill before we leave Boveglio in two and a half months. 

 As done in France, passersby over the Grand Canal at Ponte delle Accademia, place locks on
the bridge posts as a token of love, writing their names on the lock and throwing the key into the water.

Having used most of our Euros in the past month with no nearby bank and it also being Sunday, we appreciated not only a perfect meal (he cooked exactly following my restrictive diet) but speaking no English, we somehow managed to communicate. 

This huge wood carving of a face was interesting.

During dinner, the owner of the local grocery store across the street from the restaurant stopped by to also extend credit to us for our time here.  It certainly pays to know Lisa and Luca, the owners of our summer home, popular and well loved residents of this quaint community.  More will follow tomorrow.

More buses on the waterway.

So here are our remaining photos of Venice, now almost seemingly a distant memory as we immerse ourselves in our new home, soon heading to the town of Benabbio to grocery shop in the tiny store owned by the lovely Vivienne. Photos to follow!

Here’s the rest of our Venice photos!

Sebastiano T. Italy location.  Campo Santo Stefano.
Ah, here’s another pharmacy!
Ornate décor over doorways was appealing.
Many old apartments buildings lined the way to the square.
The food,  feast for the eyes, let alone the palate.
Tight quarters.  Lots of boats.
Statue of Marco Polo.
This was as close as we got to the gondolas.
A square we entered when trying to make our way to St. Mark’s visible in the background.  We walked for two hours to get to St. Marks over many bridges, down many narrow streets.
More French looking than Italian, this window display of masquerade items was beautiful.
Murano glass figurines from a shop window.
Clock Tower.
Piazza of St. Mark…pretty impressive, eh?
Taking photos of people taking photos.
People and pigeons, everywhere.
Basillica di San Marco.
Tricky photo.  Murano glass sailboats taken outside the store with the reflection of Piazza of St. Mark reflecting in the glass creating a cool backdrop.
Outdoor restaurant in the Piazza of St. Mark.  Notice the attire on the waiter in the center.
Basilica di San Marco.
More detail on the Basilica di San Marco.
Clock at the Venetian Arsenal.
Gold angels at the top Basillica di San Marco.
Another view of the Basillica di San Marco.
Piazza San Marco.
Side view of Basillica di San Marco.
Piazza San Marco.
Basillica di San Marco.
Atop the Venetian Arsenal.
One of the many structures at the top of Basillica di San Marco.
We got a better view of this statue on our return trip, Island of St. Giorgio Maggiore, Chiesa Di San Giorgio.
Shuttles lined the docks to return passengers to one of the many giant ships at the port.
A great shot at every turn.
Waiting at the dock for our shuttle to depart.
Not appearing to be rough, the waterway was rough due to the boat traffic.
Views along the waterway on the return to the ship.
As the Norwegian Spirit shuttle boat took off to return us to the ship.

Istanbul, Turkey…Story and photos…

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Mosques and churches are abundant in Istanbul.
What a view of Istanbul!
The contrast between old and new is breathtaking in Istanbul.

It was not an easy decision, deciding not to visit Istanbul, Turkey today. Tomorrow, while our ship will have docked in Izmir, Turkey we are going on an excursion to Ephesus, not returning until late in the day, posting the story and photos on Thursday. 

As our ship overlooks this magnificent city, it is quite tempting, to simply walk off the ship and venture out on our own.  From the information provided to us by the excursion desk, it’s about a 30 minutes vigorous walk through the city to arrive at the mosques, the Grand Bazaar, the Underground Cistern, and many other renowned historical sites of interest.
We were able to zoom in on many historic sites from the deck of the ship.
Google Maps
Taksim Square wherein lies the political unrest in Istanbul, Turkey, is across the bridge from the Blue Mosque.  The far-left point of the blue line is the Port of Istanbul.  The end point of the blue line toward the right is the Blue Mosque and an area of most of the tourist attractions, a little too close for comfort by our commitment to safety.

Staying behind is not based on fear as much as on practicality and logical thinking. Most likely, if we did go out, we’d be safe. The odds are in our favor.
Honestly, it’s more my being cautious than Tom. 

Looming in my mind is all the bus bombings and terrorist attacks that have occurred whereby tourists have been killed, injured, and captured. In many ways, Turkey is safer than in many other countries.  But, in our own US, who would have thought the Boston Marathon would be a high-risk area, on that particular horrifying day?

When we planned this year’s long adventure, we made a commitment to each other: we will protect ourselves from the “things we do know” since we have no control over “the things we don’t know.”

Today, Istanbul falls into the category of “things we do know.” Thus, we stay behind, perhaps viewed as overly cautious and “chicken” by some and sensible by others.  Whichever the case, we’ve made peace with our decision.

Here again, old and new intertwined in Istanbul, Turkey.

We reminded ourselves that only four weeks ago, we traveled the Middle East, visiting many high-risk areas, reveling in the adventure of it all, grateful for the experience.  We’re not pushing our luck to see yet more mosques, shopping areas and historical buildings, however magnificent they may be.

We find this French style of architecture not only in parts of the US, but in other cities throughout the world.

We remind ourselves of our personal travel objectives: to focus our time, money, and energy experiencing amazing wildlife, vegetation, natural wonders. And most of all, living in and learning the culture of people all over the world.  This makes us happy.  Historical buildings?  Nice to see, but not as life-changing for us as it may be for others.

This simple church spire adds to the Istanbul skyline.

The Panama Canal, Petra, and Mykonos tell us a story that fills our hearts and minds with awe and joy.  Wearing the burka and thobe in Abu Dhabi visiting the Sheikh Zayed Mosque gave us a gift of cultural differences that will remain with us forever. 

Mingling with the Mayan people, eating their food from their shops and markets in Belize was so meaningful to us.  Tom getting a haircut from a Creole barber while sitting under a tree on a plastic chair atop cement blocks was a delightful experience for us both. 
Also, on our trip to the Monkey River in Belize, seeing the howler monkeys, the manatees, crocodiles, dolphins, the unusual birds and vegetation, the likes of which we’d never seen before, left us reeling with pure pleasure.  And, the lunch at Alice’s Restaurant will be etched in our minds forever, as Alice and her family ran circles around us to serve us their perfect version of local lunch.

Who’s to say what “trips one’s trigger?”  Luckily, both of us have similar expectations.  Five days from today, we’ll plant our feet in Italy for the summer, living for two and half months in a non-English speaking area, learning their ways of daily life, eating their locally grown foods, attending their summer festivities, enjoying their rolling hillside all the while and making friends along the way.

The Port of Istanbul, where we sit today, a 20-minute walk from the unrest in Taksim Square.

Yes, we are doing what we want, when we want, what feels safe to us while enriching our lives daily to the world around us. It’s not perfect.  It never will be.  But for us, this, our friends, is as good as it gets.

Livorno, Italy…Later…

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As we pulled into the port of Livorno, Italy.
Views from the ship were limited.
Historic buildings lined the streets in Livorno.

Yes, we have now been in Italy for the past 24 hours, yesterday in Livorno and today in Civitavecchia, the port that brings us within an hour and a half drive to Rome.

It may have been easy for us to board the bus and visit Rome now. But, the excursions priced at as much as $395 per person, would leave us only five hours to explore. We’d decided awhile ago to save touring Italy including Rome when we can drive on our own from Florence, where we’ll spend the summer with a car. 
Exactly how we envision Italy, isn’t it?
At $865 per month for the rental car, most certainly we’ll be heading out to explore the many points of interest all over Italy throughout the summer,perhaps staying overnight in a few areas in the process.
The cruise ships and ferries were lining up to let off the tourists.
Boarding yet another bus with sneezing and coughing passengers was hardly appealing to at this point, let alone while still recovering from our recent illness which lingers in its annoying subtleties.

As the time nears to move into the house in Tuscany, we’ve contacted the owners to complete the payment.  Originally, they’d asked for cash in Euros for the balance for the two and a half months. With all this cruising and frequently moving about, we’ve preferred not to carry much cash with us based the dangers of pickpockets. 

From afar, we could see the Norwegian Epic, the ship we didn’t like due to poor design and…where we experienced the 50 foot waves while crossing the ocean.
When one travels for a few weeks, it’s no big deal to get cash off of a credit or debit card at a cash machine, paying fees upwards of 10% in a foreign country. For us, traveling constantly, this would be an outrageous expense. Carrying around large sums of cash is also foolish. Thus we’ve used PayPal and credit cards (not debit) for rental payments which has worked quite well up to this point.

With the owners  of the Tuscany property asking for cash in Euros for the extended period, we’ve been in aquandary. We could go to any bank and pay more fees to have our bank wire the funds to us to convert to Euros. 

We could use a cash machine each day in order to accumulate smaller amounts, paying huge fees, or we could open a bank account at a European bank which we’d prefer not to do, not knowing at this point how long we’ll be in Europe for the long haul.
This is not an issue for any of our future rentals. Thus, it didn’t make sense to go through all of this. As a result with angst looming, yesterday we contacted the owners of the property by email, offering to pay PayPal or credit card fees which most certainly would be considerably less than the up to 10% fees we’d pay at a cash machine.
An old grain elevator close to the port.
Much to our delight and gratefulness, they wrote back (using Google translate since they don’t speak English), telling us not to worry and that we could pay however we’d like, at any time we’d like. Their kindness prompted us to offer to pay the entire amount now using a credit card, paying the appropriate fees. We shall see how this rolls out but at least we can stop fussing over this at the moment.
It’s peculiar to us how the worries of our daily lives have changed as we’ve traveled; transportation from here to there, dirty laundry, exchange rates, runny noses, decent food, and most of all, time zone differences allowing us to Skype with family.  
The sunset shortly after our shipped pulled out of the harbor.