Traveling Circus

The Underground Bookstore

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Mon, 05 Aug 2013 19:45:00 +0000

We are back from Europe, but I found this post waiting to be published. This was such a fun not-so-secret "secret" discovery... Enjoy!

***

Our apartment is located near Piazza Barberini, and just up the street from a super busy intersection and tunnel. The Romans drive as though they are in a race and it's a wonder anyone gets across the street in one piece. (This is a huge difference from Barcelona, where people respectfully wait their turns and pedestrians are allowed to cross before the mopeds, bikes and cars take over; we even saw a person assist a blind man across the street and then cross back over and go on his way. We haven't observed the same thing in Rome...)

Anyway, yesterday, Raf and I noticed a sign for an "underground bookstore" with free entry and were intrigued enough to investigate. It turns out there is a bookstore under the street, with four entry/exit points, so you can safely get across the street, or even diagonally across.

Not only did we get through the intersection without fearing for our lives or pulling Marlowe's arms out of their sockets, but we browsed a variety of books in many different languages, as well as an assortment of travel accessories and sundry items. And when we were done, we found our passage up to the sunlit Roman streets and wandered back into the fray...

Spa-mma Mia (Kami Spa, Rome)

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 30 Jun 2013 07:41:00 +0000

Rome is filled with history and decaying beauty on every street corner. It's noisy and chaotic and full of modern life and rubbish on the streets. Romans race through cobblestone streets to have chimney-puffing smoke breaks and speak in rapid, angry bursts (when they may truly be saying sweet words to each other; it's a example of how the medium is the message). The food is heavy and delicious and cheesy and meaty. To say there is a lot of humanity, in all its forms (good, bad, ugly, beautiful, loud, brutal, pushy, funny, etc.) is an understatement.

On our first day, Raf and I took a walk around our apartment. We turned the first corner, onto a small alleyway, and as we passed an unassuming door, I noticed a familiar smell, like lemongrass and eucalyptus.

A spa?

I stopped and stared into the calm void of basalt floors and sandstone walls. Sure enough, there was a highly rated ("Voted Rome's best day spa!") spa sandwiched between a ratty garage and a tiny wash-n-dry.

A few days ago, I decided to finish off my Roman holiday with a massage and I must admit it was one of the very best souvenirs I could have gotten.

You don't realize - or maybe you do - that being gone from your regular routine can take a big toll on you. I don't speak Italian very well and we have stayed close to the more "touristy" sections of Rome, so there is a gruffness to the way we've been treated by the tourist-jaded Romans who inhabit those areas. No one has been outright mean or rude - I don't mean that at all - but there has been a lack of genuine sweetness and connection, except by our fabulous guide Grazie.

Anyway, I didn't realize how much I needed to release the tensions of Rome until they were being knocked out of me via a blend of Oriental massage techniques.

The actual spa was not what I'm used to. I've been to spas in Vegas and LA. I love the gritty Korean day spas where they scrub you within an inch of your life, until your skin glows. And most of all, I love the fragrant, luxurious Ojai Valley Inn & Spa, where you could spend an entire day and not remember there's a "real" world outside its Moroccan-tiled walls. In all of these places, the spa facilities are a sanctuary unto themselves, with steam rooms and saunas and beautiful baths and pools and jacuzzis and showers and fragrant amenities. There's usually tea and cool cucumber water and fresh fruit and cut flowers and a bevy of spa attendants and freshly laundered towels.

Kami Spa is not like that. For 30 Euro (the add-on cost to use the "facilities" if you have a treatment), there is a tepid pool (why?) and a steam room that smelled a little moldy. The showers are in that "facility" area, not near the lockers, and you have to walk through the lobby (where other clients are sitting and which faces the street) to get to the facilities and back. Weird. I was the only one in the "facility" area, too, which was odd, and they had to pull a curtain over the window that overlooks the lobby so I'd have some privacy.

Okay, whatever. It's Rome, nothing is "usual." I'm game.

I took a quick dip in the not-warm pool and then went into the steam room. Once I got past the faint smell of mold, I found myself drifting away, my muscles relaxing into the warmth of the steam. The stress of the vacation literally melted away (you may laugh, but if you think about it, a vacation can be super stressful; this trip, I've been concerned about everyone getting enough to eat and having a good time and getting the right souvenirs and staying out of the busy streets of Rome so they don't get killed by a guy on a scooter who's smoking and talking on his mobile phone). I didn't want to leave.

Finally, it was time for my massage. The therapist (Nok) escorted me via elevator to her treatment room, which was beautiful and calm. For an hour, she kneaded my muscles and chased the stress away. I truly felt like a new person. An old, familiar feeling of calm contentedness came back... and I hadn't noticed its absence until it returned.

*Sigh.*

Spahhhhhhhh....

So what if the facilities weren't up to snuff. The massage was the best I'd ever had - firm, thorough, muscle-relaxing... and exactly what the ring leader of this traveling circus needed.

Campo de' Fiori

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 28 Jun 2013 17:26:00 +0000

This morning, while the girls slept in, Raf and I trekked to Campo de' Fiori for a coffee and some vegetables (we decided to forego the pizza and pasta today in favor of sauteing up some veggies).

We've actually spent a few evenings and dinners at Campo de' Fiori because the girls love a little cafe there (which serves all the typical Italian dishes and is likely just as yummy as any other trattoria, but they like what they already know). The afternoon and evening crowd is lively, with street performers and musicians filling the center of the piazza. Last night, we listened to a 4-piece band (complete with accordian and stand-up bass) and watched two ladies tap dance their hearts out. The ever-present toy peddlers shilled light-up toys that fly and squish and splat and squeal. There was even a guy blowing gigantic bubbles that floated above the crowds until they popped into sparkling droplets. Since there's no real rush for dinner, you can spend the time waiting for your meal by looking up as the orange sepia Roman sunset gives way to an inky indigo blue that covers the city in a thick night-sky blanket.

But today was our first time in Il Campo during its busy daylight hours. I've heard and read that "true Romans" don't shop there and that it's only for tourists, but hey! We're tourists, so wandered around, looking at the beautiful produce and souvenir stalls, stopping at a caffe bar for a "caffe shakerato" (espresso shaken with ice... basically, an iced coffee with a fancy name!).

olive oil cans

espresso pots

eggplants

tomatoes

caffe shakerato

The walk there was easy, effortless, took about 10 minutes (as opposed to 20-30 minutes with three girls to herd). The way home was crazy and chaotic, due to a strike or protest that crowded the streets with protesters and police of every kind (lots of different uniforms), as well as a helicopter overhead. Many streets were closed or blocked and we had to find a new route around the city to get back to the apartment. Luckily, it was a fairly peaceful protest (if it was, in fact, a protest), and we made it back only a bit later than we'd expected.

Pixie Delights in Ojai

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Thu, 27 Jun 2013 12:27:00 +0000

image from ojaipixies.com

We're still in Rome, but I just found this post about Ojai, which I never published. Please enjoy this little bit of California sunshine between posts about Italy.

My favorite scent in the whole world is citrus. I'm a rabid fan of orange blossoms, but I am also partial to the fresh sugar-citrus smell of Meyer lemon rinds, the green-grass fragrance of lemon leaves, the tart kiss of a satsuma. Blood oranges, lemonade, greyhound cocktails, lemon squares, lime-laden mojitos... I love 'em all.

It follows, then, that one of my very most favorite places in the entire world is Ojai, just 45 minutes north of my house. Not only is it beautiful, but the valley is full of citrus trees. Driving along Ojai Avenue, past the pin dot of the main drag, Libbey Park and the arcade, the streets become tiny thoroughfares, winding travelers through a fairy land of Pixie tangerine trees.

The famous Ojai "pink moment"

I wanted to jump out of the car, run through the trees wildly, throw a picnic blanket on the rough ground and eat as many tangerines as I could pick with my bare hands, standing on tippy toes to reach as high up in the trees as possible. And when I sated my citrus cravings - for the moment - I would lie on the blanket and fall asleep under the green canopy of glossy leaves, my chin and arms sticky with tangerine juice, my lap overflowing with discarded peels.

They call Ojai "Shangri-La"... and I'm a believer.

For the record, we stayed at Ojai Valley Inn & Spa, which is a magical dream of luxury and quiet. We ate rich Italian food at Boccali's - ask for Starlet when you go, she's a doll of a waitress. And if you're lucky enough to find yourself with time on your hands, I'd recommend a reflective hike at Meditation Mount, on the far east side of the valley, preferably at sunset so that you can witness the majesty of the famous Ojai "pink moment." Then cap off the day with a kuyam treatment at Ojai Valley Spa. Bliss.

The Art of What Is - Villa Borghese in Rome

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Thu, 27 Jun 2013 12:16:00 +0000

Before we left, I remembered to buy tickets for the Borghese Gallery in Rome. It's an interesting ticket process: at least a week (or a few days) in advance, you reserve and pay for your 2-hour timeslot online (you can only go at 9 am, 11 am, 1 pm, 3 pm or 5pm); a half hour before your time, you line up in the ticket office with the print-out of your reservation, hoping you're in the right line and wondering if the clerk (who's on his phone the whole time) even knows you're there; and then, tickets in hand, you have two hours to explore one of the world's most beautiful art galleries.

When I booked online - over a week ago, in California - I couldn't decide on the "best" time slot for our family of five. Would they wake up early enough for the 11 am slot, knowing we'd have to be there at 10:30 and thus would have to leave the apartment at 10 am (the girls are not early risers on a "regular" schedule, so vacation mornings are even more of a challenge)? Would 1 pm hit us right at lunchtime? Would 3 pm be too late because we'd be out exploring the city and perhaps reluctant to go and see art?

I had *thought* I'd booked 11 am, so we rallied the girls - not easy with an ice cold shower that never warmed up - and walked up Via Veneto past the chi-chi sidewalk cafes and stood in line behind a gaggle of American college-age girls and got our tickets.

At the ticket window, the clerk finally stopped his conversation with his co-worker and turned to me with my tickets in his hand, "These are for 3 pm. Next!"

The good part? We had hours to ride bikes and a surrey around the gardens again, caught a gorgeous view of Rome from above the Piazza del Popolo and had a nice lunch at a cafe within the garden (Marlowe had another minestrone soup and I had my first non-cheese, non-pizza, non-pasta meal since we arrived: spinach and white beans).

The bad part? We're back at the apartment and I think two of the girls are staging a mutiny.

Chances are, it will just be a museum trip for me and Emme, which is fine, too. My expectation was to show my whole family this museum that I love so much, the place where I fell for Caravaggio and Bernini in a big way, but it appears that I have to let go of that expectation and practice the art of being with what *is* rather than what I expected. I'll leave in about 20 minutes to hike back up to the Villa, but for now, here are some pictures:

The girls love these stands all around the Villa Borghese;
Emme ate two huge panini the other day and we've also had
cold water, Gatorade, Nestea, Oreos, gelati... It's awesome!
Sure beats a dilapidated ice cream truck in the Valley.

A 4-person pedal-powered surrey. It goes way faster than you'd expect
(though still not as fast as a regular bike. So there's that...)

Serena overlooking Rome.

Emme and me above the Piazza del Popolo.
Yes, she's taller than me.

Marlowe, continuing her culinary tour of Rome, ordered a
strawberry granita with whipped cream at lunch.
Soo yummy!

Travel Tips - Erin's European Life Savers

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 17:03:00 +0000

Now that we've been living out of suitcases in Europe for over a week, I feel comfortable sharing a few of the things that have made our lives and traveling with the kids much, much easier.

1 - laptop - Having a laptop has made it easy to look up various destinations and maps. I love typing as opposed to tapping on my phone or iPad (although we brought those, too, and have used them extensively). The kids like looking up YouTube videos of their fave shows, too, when they're tired and need to veg out. Some people might balk at that - they're in Italy, for god's sake! But honestly, I think they've earned it since they've been cool with walking all over Barcelona and Rome with us. It's a treat... and it keeps us just as happy (no fighting = good, quiet siesta times).

2 - dropbox - About a month ago, I signed up for Dropbox (www.dropbox.com) so that I could upload and store all of my pictures and music in "the cloud" and access them from any computer or device at any time. I had no idea how awesome it would be for traveling! Of course, I can access my travel docs on my phone and iPad and laptop, etc., but I can also upload the pictures from my phone and my regular digital camera onto my computer and Dropbox will automatically upload them to "the cloud" so they are safe and sound. No more worrying about losing my camera or deleting pictures before I get home. My memories are safely and digitally preserved.

3 - tour guide - I've said it before, but I'm a big believer in paying for a private local guide to help you get oriented in a city, especially if you have kids. Some people (and I used to be one of them) love planning a trip and taking out their maps and guidebooks while walking around a city, but now I prefer walking and talking with a guide whose job it is to answer my questions and customize a tour around my family's needs and interests. If we want to stop for gelato, we stop. If we have a question about the ruins, it's answered. If we need transportation, they arrange it. Bing, bam, boom. Even a 3-hour tour once during the trip is enough to get familiar with a local's-eye view of a city and glimpse into the life of someone who lives here. Because of our tours, we've been able to see cities from the inside out, learning about specialty foods and customs and festivals. Often, we'll find ourselves far from the crowds, in spots where the views are spectacular and there are no other tourists in sight. It also ensures that we don't wander in circles trying to find a landmark or a Metro station or a taxi when the kids are tired, which is worth its weight in gold!

4 - adaptors - Buy your adaptors on Amazon for a few bucks before you leave for your trip. We got three adaptors this time and they have been invaluable for keeping our phones, camera, laptop, kindles and hair straightener working. We're lucky that most modern US appliances can convert to both 110 and 220 electrical outlets, so all you need is the right adaptor. When my family moved to Naples, Italy, when I was a teenager (about 25 years ago), we had to have a small converter that plugged into the wall, and then we could plug our appliances into that... but still, we fried our fair share of hair dryers... Needless to say, I'm glad it's so easy nowadays!

5 - go grocery shopping - Even if we stay in a hotel, I like to go to local grocery stores to check out snacks and get bottled water, fruit and picnic items. We've learned that you have to weigh your own produce at most European markets and the machine will give you a sticker to put on the bag (and if you don't do this, you'll get a stink eye from the cashier and the long line of locals behind you!), and you often are required to bag your own items in your own bag. Plus, I love the brand names of foreign products (case in point: Horniman's teas... hmmm...) and it's reason enough not to bring your own shampoo to try something new.

6 - rent an apartment - Sure, you won't have a concierge downstairs, but you'll be able to feel more "at home" in a foreign city if you have your own space. The drawbacks are that you can't call downstairs if you run out of toilet paper or garbage bags, but it's nice to have your own entrance and exit, and to spread out a little bit more than in a tiny hotel room.

7 - make yourself comfortable - We often find ourselves spending less on touristy activities and a little extra on the things that make our trip more comfortable or enjoyable. In Barcelona, we bought inexpensive beach towels, which we gave to the cleaning lady when we left; it may not seem like a big deal, but we used them over and over throughout the week! In Rome we've had mild weather, but even so, our apartment's A/Cs limp along. When I left the windows open at night, though, we got bitten by mosquitoes. The solution was to buy two cheap fans from an old guy in a little shop around the corner. We'll bequeath them to the apartment and to all the lucky travelers who rent it during the sweltering summer months, but the fans have made our trip that much better! And when I think about it, I'd much rather have a good night's sleep than a suitcase filled with cheap replicas of the Vatican or key chains.

8 - splurge-worthy souvenirs - Before I take a trip, I really think about the item(s) I'd love to bring home to remember my trip, besides pictures and these blog posts. In Barcelona, I took Emme and Serena to Lluis Manuel in the Gothic Quarter for espadrilles. In Rome, I found a beautiful leather purse and Raf bought a wallet. Emme and Serena asked to buy some make-up at Sephora, which they can buy in the US, but they wanted something they'd used every day that would remind them of Rome, so I said yes. Marlowe has gotten several toys and laser-lights to use at night. I also have my eye out for a gold ring to commemorate our 15th wedding anniversary. If it's a nice item that I will use all the time and makes an ordinary day feel special (like the purse I bought or Emme's new mascara), then it's worth the splurge to me. Boxer shorts emblazoned with the image of a marble statue's penis? Not so much.

9 - ziploc bags - I like to grab a handful of various sizes before I leave and tuck them into my suitcase. You never know what you'll need them for: protecting phones if it's rainy, holding the second half of a sandwich for later, carrying Euro coins, separating snacks, etc., etc.

10 - get into it - If all else fails, just "get into it," one of our favorite lines from "The Darjeeling Limited." Raf and I say this when we don't quite know where we're going or what we're gonna do, but we want to get out and enjoy the city. The line from Darjeeling is from a scene in which the oldest brother (Owen Wilson) is getting a shoe shine and the kid steals his shoe. He hobbles after the boy, then stops and says something like, "I nearly died, Jack's heart has been broken and Rubby's having a child. Let's get into it!" as a sort of battle cry, like there's nothing left to lose. It seems to cover everything.

Just get into it!

The Grand Tour

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 15:51:00 +0000

One of my best "tricks" for traveling, especially in a busy city in high season, is to hire a private local guide for at least a few hours. Not only will they buy your tickets in advance and navigate you through the crowds like a professional, but they can help you understand exactly what you're looking at (which is helpful when you're facing a pile of rubble that belonged to this emperor or that temple to some goddess we can't remember). They can also point you in the direction of a great trattoria or find the name of a shop that sells more comfortable pillows (if, like us, you're staying in a great apartment with cardboard-flat pillows). The other nice thing is, a guide can take pictures of all five of us!

Allora... The Grand Tour. We didn't go to all of these sights with our Roman guide Grazie, but she really helped us get a feeling for the ancient cities within Rome.

The Roman Forum with Grazie

Piazza del Campidoglio

The Coliseum

Coliseum

Trinita di Monti (top of the "Spanish Steps")

Piazza del Quirinale - the Italian version of the White House,
where the Prime Minister lives. It's also a kick-ass place
to view the Roman sunset.

How Do They Do It? Roman Feats of Wonder

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 15:35:00 +0000

Largo di Torre Argentina - this archeological site
has been excavated under the medieval city and turned
into a cat sanctuary. I'm not kidding!

The big holes in the walls of the Coliseum represent a pillaging for
metal; when the Christians began to rule Rome, they took metal and other materials from the
ancient imperial Roman structures and reused (recycled!) them to build churches.
These holes were bored into various columns to find the metal poles that held the columns up,
then they were heated so the metal would pour out. Genius. Except that the columns were no
longer reinforced against seismic or volcanic activity...

We've seen these guys at various sites around the city.
I think the guy on top is sitting on a pedestal that is supported by a
zigzagged pole located within the bottom guy's orange shirt.

Smart cars are great in Rome because they can be
parked either forward or sideways - makes no difference!

Three Coins in the Fountain

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 15:16:00 +0000

Trevi Fountain is interesting to me because it is both much bigger than I expected... and much smaller... I didn't know that you could just wander through the historic city center of Rome and then BAM! Sandwiched between three streets ("tre via" = Trevi), gelato shops, pizzerias, souvenir shacks, illegal toy peddlers and legions of tourists, the beautiful Trevi is a testament to the wishes and dreams of every visitor to Rome.

I was thinking about it today, as I watched hundreds and hundreds of tourists traipse through the Coliseum and Forum. We all want the same things when we come to Rome, don't we? To walk in the footsteps of emperors and gladiators, to imagine the world before iPhones and computers and cars and airplanes and TVs and working 9 to 5 and trying to keep up with the Joneses... We want to imagine that we are the ruling class of Rome, the men and women in white togas with slaves who will build travertine columns to the sky and erect statues in our images; or maybe we're the rich art patrons who employ the likes of Bernini or Michelangelo or Caravaggio to adorn our palaces with frescoes of angels...

Rome is still unfolding to me, releasing its charms bit by bit. Every day, I feel as though I capture a little more of its magic, somewhere between its cramped "parking lots" (i.e., streets and sidewalks) and ochre and sepia buildings and lush "palm pines" that reach into its inky blue night sky with their lacy silhouettes.

But it takes time to learn a city. To ensure the girls will be back, we gave each of them a coin...

Here's hoping for the ultimate return on those three Euros, in the form of three wishes fulfilled and three future trips to Rome.

When in Rome

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 15:01:00 +0000

Coming from Barcelona, our first impressions of Rome were about noise and chaos, ancient streets and an impassioned machismo in the air. It's a 180-degree turn from the laid-back Spanish lifestyle.

But... that also includes food.

As I may have mentioned, we aren't huge fans of Spanish food - that may change as we spend more time there, so I'm not ruling it out just yet.

But Rome is a FEAST for the palate. Every single little bar/trattoria/pizzeria/enoteca/caffeteria/hole in the wall seems to be as good or better than the last one. Even "touristy" spots have given us reasonably priced meals that are incredible near the Trevi fountain and Campo di Fiori and even just below our apartment.

I'm the first to admit I've raised three picky eaters, and yet each of them has been in food heaven here in Rome. It's particularly fun to watch Marlowe (the pickiest one of all) try new foods... and ask for seconds. Raf is trying to decide whether or not Paris is still his favorite city to eat in, but each new pizzeria makes his decision even harder.

Me, I'm content to live meal to meal, although my stomach can't match my desire to eat!

Again, a photo tour of our gastronomy:

Fried ricotta with walnuts and honey on arugula (I know, right?)

Marlowe finishing up Serena's spaghetti with meatballs

Pretty fruit tarte at the Borghese Gardens

wine with a prosciutto/arugula/parmesan pizza

Marlowe loved the lunch buffet at this tony Via Veneto
restaurant so much, she's asked to go back every day

Cheers!

Marlowe's mini torte at CineCaffe
in the Borghese Gardens

Mecca

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 14:30:00 +0000

The famous House of Fendi in Rome's "shopping triangle"

Most visitors to Rome make a pilgrimage to the Vatican, feeling the rapture of their faith and religious beliefs.

I'm all for that, of course, but I'm not Catholic and so a large portion of the beauty of the Vatican is lost on me.

However, I am a big believer of beauty for its own sake and I have a strong affinity for the authentic quality of certain Italian design houses.

Namely, Fendi.

I've purchased a few pairs of sunglasses from Fendi on previous trips to Italy and this time I only wanted to visit my beloved Casa Di Fendi, as a gesture of my undying affection. Sure, there are knock-offs on every street corner, but the true Fendi goods are so beautifully designed, they take my breath away. When I entered the building and tooled around the ground floor to the Sala di Scarpi (shoe room), there was a well-to-do woman busying several Fendi salesmen with requests for this stiletto and that mule... I watched her in my periphery as she pranced in front of the mirror.

I just had to sigh. Oh, to be her for that moment.

Sigh. Fendi. (*shaking my head, smile on my face*)

I ached my way through the masterfully displayed heels and leather ballerina flats and leopard print stilettos.

It cost nothing, and yet, it means the world to me, to know that beauty like that - designed simply to be beautiful - exists in the same world as I do.

Hard Luck Cafe

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 09:20:00 +0000

Because it was our last day in Barcelona and because the kids had been fantastic travelers, trying new things and traipsing along endless streets and through mazes of underground Metro stations, I thought it might be a good treat to take them for a good ol' "American" meal at the Hard Rock.

Two of my girls are dyed in the wool Carnivores (note the capital "C") and they are quite at home in Texas, so a burger joint was well worth the hour-long wait.

I wasn't so sure about Marlowe, whose vegetarianism has only wavered for the occasional turkey jerky. She didn't want another Caesar salad, so I ordered us both the "Veggie Leggie" burger, which the menu said was topped with grilled veggies. I'd assumed it was also a veggie patty.

My brother in law Max used to say, "If you assume, it makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me.' "

And so it was that Marlowe and I both ate huge beef burgers in Barcelona.

It seemed like a good enough idea at the time - I didn't want to send the burger back (since there were, technically, veggies ON my burger), and I could chalk it up to getting a huge dose of B12. Plus, Marlowe LOVED it. Raf snapped the shot above because we were all shocked. My dad will be so proud; I think I can hear him firing up the grill already...

The drawbacks of eating at the Hard Rock were the burger-induced stomach ache I couldn't shake the rest of that day/night and the fact at Emme put her new retainer on the table to "keep it safe" while she ate... And then we all forgot about it.

Luckily, it was a small price to pay for a travel memory.

There's No Place Like Rome

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 23 Jun 2013 21:20:00 +0000

While I don't feel quite "done" with Barcelona yet - and I'm sure I'll write a little more about it this week - we are now in bella Roma and I wanted to post a few pictures.

Whereas our time in Barcelona was effortless, from transportation to visiting museums to even checking in at the airport, Rome has already established itself as our stubbornly different new reality. We arrived at Fiumicino airport 15 minutes early and I took it as a good sign... until we got to the baggage claim and were told the ground workers were having a "union meeting" and our bags would be delayed.

"Union meeting" = strike

Ahh... Benvenuti a Roma.

I remember, from when I lived in Naples as a teenager, that Italians like to strike. It wasn't uncommon to be on a train bound for downtown Naples and be two stops from my destination and the train would stop due to a strike. Passengers would shrug and hop off, then find a bus. It happens, they'd say.

I called our driver Stefano and he said, "Yes, madam, we know about the strike. No problem. I'll wait."

And so it was that we waited for 90 minutes for the bags to be released. On the drive to the apartment, we passed through the ancient Roman city wall and gawked at the ruins of the Roman baths and the Circus Maximus, then Stefano pointed out the "wedding cake" building and the famous balcony where Mussolini spoke to the Italian people. It's not quite July but it was already sweaty with tourists in tank tops and fanny packs, brand-new sneakers and sunburns. Our apartment contact rode up on a Vespa and unlocked the doors for us, all the while chatting on her Bluetooth (except when she scolded Marlowe for putting her shoes on the couch and Emme for climbing the ladder to the storage space above the closet).

When she left, I turned to Raf and felt like I wanted to cry. Where was the magic? Had I left it in Spain?

The kids were hungry, so we set out for a quick pizza, pasta and gelato, choosing the first pizzeria we could find. I didn't have high expectations - whatever, let's just get some pizzas and pastas and get back to the apartment - but from the first bite, I knew we were in Italy. Creamy mozzarella... thick Bolognese on fat fettucine noodles... thin, crisp crust...

We took a few hours to recharge (wherein Raf taught us all to play Blackjack, using some weird tchotchke rocks we found in a dish).

"It's a supermoon tonight," Serena said. "The moon won't be this close to the earth again for, like, a long... LOOOONG time...."

And so we wandered into the Roman night and followed the street until it brought us to the obelisk at the top of the Spanish Steps, stopping every few feet to look back at the glorious buttery moon. Suddenly, there it was: the magic I'd imagined.

And again I thought, Ahhh... Benvenuti a Roma.

Welcome to Rome.

The Blackjack lesson

the Super Moon
Ever since the movie "Moonstruck," I can't help but think,
"Hey, it's Cosmo's moon! Look! La Bella Luna!"

At the top of the Spanish Steps

"Do Over" Day in Barcelona

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 21 Jun 2013 20:50:00 +0000

Spending a week in Barcelona is a gift on many levels. Aside from basking in seven days and nights of magic, we don't feel rushed to get around or to see everything, and we can revisit sights we love.

So today, we decided to "re-do" Wednesday's beach and biking day, with a quick jaunt into the Barri Gotic for churros and chocolate at another famous xocolateria. To make it a little more interesting, we took a trip on the funicular up to Montjuic first, then cabbed it to the beach.

On the funicular (cable car) at Montjuic

Can you tell which of us doesn't like heights?

Marlowe loved the great views of Barcelona

At Bogatell Beach

At this place, the churros were better than the first churreria,
but the chocolate wasn't as thick and pudding-ish

A real horchata (made from the chufa nut, not rice),
which tastes like a sweet almond milk

Quality Time, Barcelona Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 21 Jun 2013 07:21:00 +0000

In the constant rush of daily life, especially during the past month or so as we raced to finish up school projects and pack for this trip, I sometimes feel a longing for an intangible something else from my relationship with my kids and Raf. Like I'm missing something, some piece of the larger puzzle of life.

Quality time.

I say this because we spend a lot of time together as a family. We're super lucky; Raf and I work at home and take the kids to and from school. We're all home for dinner and homework. We go a lot of places together. But when we're rushed or there are too many things to do, that "missing" feeling creeps up on me and I long for quality time.

There is nothing quite like living in a small space in a foreign city to bind a family together. I'm not saying I don't hear But Mom! She's *touching* me! Make her stop!! forty times a day. And I'm not saying I don't escape to the balcony a few times a day to get some "peace and quiet" from the traffic below (which is more soothing to me than the laugh track on "Friends," which is one of our only DVDs that works on the Euro DVD player). But it's been so good to reconnect like this, with hours upon hours and days upon days to just be together, wrestling and arguing and laughing and eating together.

Barcelona B&B (Beach & Bikes)

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 21 Jun 2013 06:53:00 +0000

There are no mistakes. That goes for life, as well as traveling. You want to plan, but you can't get too caught up in the idea of the end result; for one thing, you may never even get there, and for another, your desires may change and you may find yourself changing course anyway.

(note: Marlowe is trying out weird faces;
it's a rite of passage as an 8-year-old)

The first time we came to Europe as a family, three years ago, I was aching to see Versailles again. I wanted to show the girls the real palace where Marie Antoinette lived and the "movie set" of Sofia Coppola's gorgeous film. Decadence, luxury, style and royal living at its sumptuous, excessive best.

This is it! I was going to say to them, arms wide enough to envelop Versailles and its grounds as a whole. This is it!

Well.

That didn't quite work out the way I'd planned. The grounds were crowded and the lines for the palace (and even the women's bathroom) were deplorably long. The Metro ride back to Paris was at least 45 minutes (after a 15-minute walk to the train station). What to do?

(Imagine the voice of a superhero TV show narrator) Just then, the Shachory family spied a sign at the edge of the fountain... "Rent bikes here!"... Thus changing the course of family vacations FOREVER...)

And so, a family tradition was born.

A few days ago, we rented bikes by Barceloneta Beach and rode north, helmet-free and unencumbered by anything but a backpack, picnic food and a few beach towels, along the sun-sparkling beaches of Barcelona. Past nude beaches and party beaches, naval installments and tourist traps, picnic benches and tapas bars, surf shops and structures built for the 1992 Olympics.

It only takes a minute or two on a beach cruiser to change your attitude. The world seems better with the sun on your back. I found myself staying at the back of our group, watching my girls in their sundresses weaving in and out of pedestrians, laughing with their heads thrown back, hair flowing in ropy beach waves behind them, the tinkling sounds of their bike bells on the sea breeze.

At the northern end of Barceloneta, Raf stopped short, eyes on the black-clad surfers lined up in the waves.

"Surfers?" I asked, lightbulbs popping in my mind.

He didn't speak, a smile on his lips.

It was a game changer. In other words, if we loved Barcelona before, now that he knew there was surfing, it was all over. Suddenly, the "... but there's no real surfing..." consideration was gone. Suddenly, Barcelona transformed into a viable, livable city for him.

Who knows?

After two hours, we returned the bikes and grabbed tapas on the beach, served by a blonde girl from Palos Verdes who visited Barcelona four years ago and never left. Then we wandered up to Olimpica Beach and splashed a while and fell asleep on the hot sand, daydreaming about Barcelona and inhabiting all it has to offer.

Casa Mila (Or "Imagining The Other Life I Could Have Lived")

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 21 Jun 2013 05:49:00 +0000

Sometimes in my life, I've thought that our lives choose us, that we had nothing to do with it, trusting in Fate, the Universe, whatever. Lately, I'm rethinking that idea, wondering what it might mean if we are truly in charge of our destinies simply because we are "in charge" of our thoughts, wondering if we can change our lives by changing our thoughts. Using this philosophy, I've landed in a very content place of loving my life as it is, not as it ought to have been. I don't play the woulda, shoulda, coulda game all that much. It's not worthwhile to me. I have one life - this one - and this is what I'm doing with it.

But...

Yesterday afternoon, while the kids relaxed and watched endless DVDs of "Friends" in the apartment, Raf and I took a walk around the Eixample neighborhood. After a long morning and tour with the kids, managing their hunger and desire to shop and complaints about walking, I was eager to spend a little bit of time in the fresh air of Barcelona's early evening pedestrian crush without counting three kids in my periphery to be sure we were all together and no one was walking into the middle of a bus lane.

We walked in the direction of La Pedrera (or "Casa Mila"), a Gaudi-designed apartment residence on the ritzy Passeig de Gracia. I find it ironic that this is my second trip to Barcelona and I'm awestruck by Gaudi's mad genius, and yet I've never set foot inside his buildings. And, for the most part, I've been okay with it; if I'm accepting reality, then this is the spot where my parenting reality and expectations about long European sojourns intersect. If I'm going to truly enjoy a trip to Europe with my family - with the intent to inspire a lifelong love of traveling and a cosmopolitan world vision in my girls - then I've got to suck it up and find places and activities that they will love, too. Museums and staring at wavy lines of architecture generally don't cut it with my kids (remember, we're the family that lasted about 2 hours in the Louvre... with a private guide...).

Anyway, we've walked this route with the kids twice - it's about five or six blocks on the same street as our apartment, and then two or three blocks to the left on flat city streets. With kids, it can take 20 to 30 minutes of Are we there yet? and Dad, *that* was a gelato place! and My feet hurt...can we just take a cab?

Therefore, I was surprised to reach Gaudi's Casa Mila in less than 10 minutes. Raf and I crossed the Passeig de Gracia as though we knew what we were doing. "We'll just see what's going on," Raf said. "No expectations."

That was good enough for me. We poked around the front, looking for an entrance line.

Hmm... only a handful of people waiting...

We looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow. Raf shrugged, both of us envisioning two possibilities:

1 - the kids were swigging back cheap wine while playing with matches and throwing them out the third floor window like molotov cocktails at the Spaniards of Eixample

2 - they were on their second episode of a "Friends" marathon, hands in a third bag of chips, and truly enjoyed the parent-free afternoon of eating junk food with reckless abandon.

We tiptoed inside and bought tickets, then took the breath-taking (literally) winding stairs up eight floors to the rooftop terrace, where a stage had been assembled for an evening jazz concert (which I knew the kids wouldn't go for, but still I daydreamed...).

The thing with Gaudi is, his designs are supposed inspired by nature, and yet they are otherworldly (in fact, our guide Teresa had mentioned George Lucas was inspired by Gaudi for his Storm Troopers). Over and over, I noticed comparisons to the Green and Green Craftsman style of the California bungalows I love so much and the natural, organic lines of Frank Lloyd Wright's homes.

And still, I couldn't put my finger on it. Gaudi was different. Utterly mad as a hatter. Bombatic. Fluid. The poorly translated brochure called it "unclassifiable," which is as good a description as any.

From the rooftop, we entered the spine-like attic, where an exhibit of models and scales "explained" Gaudi's work. Display cases filled with organic materials - the skeleton of a python, a dried-up skull of a goat, seashells, honeycombs, lacy tree branches - attempted to show the connection between nature and Gaudi's fanciful designs.

It was there, in the attic space, weaving between models and renderings and trying to take it all in (while Raf reminded me of our kids sitting in a foreign apartment alone several blocks away) that I saw an alternative version of myself decades earlier, touring Casa Mila and changing the course of my life.

Architecture, I heard in my soul. You could have been an architect.

I imagined myself as a teenager, coming to Barcelona on a school trip. It could have happened - I lived in Naples... Why didn't I ever travel to Spain?

I could feel that 17-year-old girl walking around with me, getting goosebumps, her life stretched out ahead of her like tanned legs on a sandy beach. I should go to school for architecture, I felt her saying, careless and carefree, hair wild, a mostly empty backpack slung over one elbow. Yeah, that might be fun.

We toured the apartment below, a gorgeous, light-filled living space that incorporated natural light on both sides of its inner corridor. There weren't a lot of people, so we wandered through the rooms virtually alone, the ghost of the girl I might have been and me. By then, I was smitten and the curved lines of the ceiling and Gaudi's well-designed Modernisme furniture only deepened my admiration.

What might have been... I wondered, picturing that alternative version of myself spending a homesick year in Barcelona, studying at the Universitat, learning Spanish, pining to be with my high school friends, riding the Metro in endless loops around the city. But by winter break and the following summer, my life would have changed again. I would have fallen in love with Barcelona, maybe changed the course of my life by staying, like so many ex-patriots.

What might have been?

Photo for Five / "The Holiday Card Shot"

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Fri, 21 Jun 2013 04:47:00 +0000

Sagrada Familia

Before you decide to have three kids and become an official family of five, there are things you can't quite consider, like:

* At some point, you will have to wait for a shower; sometimes, this will feel like forever as you patiently allow each member of your house to go before you.

* Finding a table for five at a busy restaurant is tricky.

* You'll have to separate for plane rides, finding seats either beside or behind each other... or in entirely different sections...

* You can't get a taxi for five people in most cabs; you either have to split up or call ahead for a larger cab

* If you ask, "Where should we eat?" you'll get four or five different answers... and someone is always irritated by the decision

Park Guell

* When you're traveling, you will likely only get pictures with up to four of you in them because someone has to take the photo.

We usually get around this last one by setting up a self-timed picture, which is great because it takes a few rounds to get the best photo... and the "bloopers" sometimes say more about us as a family than the posed shots (She's in my way... No, on this side, on this side... It's flashing, Mom,come on!!").

On this trip, however, we've had two great tours with guides who have accommodated my desire for shots of our complete family. Don't be surprised if you see one of these on our holiday cards.

La Boqueria

Food Porn, Barcelona Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Wed, 19 Jun 2013 08:42:00 +0000

As you may know, I tend to eat very clean, organic, mostly vegetarian or vegan food at home in California. I love kale. I love green smoothies. I know my way around a Whole Foods. I'm the kind of girl who asks, "Do you have almond milk?" at a coffee joint, then proceeds to inquire about whether it's organic, unsweetened, local, grown on a happy farm, etc.

You know my type, don't you?

Anyway, Barcelona challenges all of my food limitations. Rather than wax poetic about the fiesta of food we've been consuming, I'll show you a photojournal of my gastronomic journey.

chocolate and churros

postres

zumos naturales - fresh juices

a store dedicated to iberica ham... not vegan...

toasty bread rubbed with tomatoes

fried brie on an arugula salad with balsamic vinegar

tapas

Disorientation and Mad Genuis

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 22:39:00 +0000

Serena's modern interpretation of Salvador Dali

Despite jet lag - or to spite it - we dropped our luggage off at the aptly named Splendum Suites and went in search of a few well-reviewed cafes and markets around Eixample. Though I'm still not a big fan of Spanish food - or just not yet - we had a good meal at a sidewalk bistro and found a dusty little market (open late on Sunday night) to grab some cereal and yogurt for the apartment for breakfast.

Which came really early, since all of us woke up around 4:30 am. When it was finally a decent hour, Raf and Marlowe and I set out to explore. After a quick (but beautifully crafted) caffe con leche and zumo naranja (orange juice), we found ourselves wending our way through grand treelined boulevards and window shopping along ritzy ramblas.

Marlowe and Raf at Casa Mila (La Pedrera)

Barcelona is the sort of magical place where you can happen upon a twisting palace of melting marshmallow towers, as we did, literally stumbling across a corner and looking up, into the beauty of La Pedrera, a building dreamed up by Barcelona's Dr. Suess of architecture, Antoni Gaudi.

What is it about Catalunya, the region that envelops Barcelona, that makes it produce mad geniuses like Gaudi, Dali and Picasso, classically trained artists who turned art, form and function on their ears?

I haven't found the answer yet, despite visiting the Dali museum in the Barri Gotic or wandering through Park Guell or studying Casa Batllo. But genius seems to be called forth from some other place, somewhere so deep within the artist it can't be tamed and can only exist without limitations.

Create columns that appear to be melting? Why not? Begin work on a church that won't be completed for a hundred years after your life is over? Certainly!

Perhaps the sheer madness of these ideas is what sets such genius apart from mere mortals... Not only could they dream up such flights of fancy, but they had the audacity to imagine they could be done.

It's disorienting to be in a city that exhibits such freedom alongside the neat and orderly 16-block grids of the master-planned Eixample district. But it's also lovely and alive and unpredictable, a good reminder that the flutter in my heart may be less of a struggle to understand and more of another crazy, impetuous, passionate feeling:

falling in love.

Ooo... Que Rica

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 22:38:00 +0000

When we walked onto the beach near Port Olimpic, we heard the cat calls of a stout old man fondling his nibbles 'n bits as he showered on the beach.

"Ooo... Que rica!" he called to the female passersby. How rich! So nice!

While I don't advocate strange hobo harassment on most beaches, I have to agree with him with regard to the location and sheer beauty of Barcelona's warm Mediterranean seaside. Even though Serena got stung by a jellyfish (which the Spanish call medusas), the afternoon was well-spent dozing on rented beach chairs and wandering back to Eixample via the Metro.

Maybe it's strange that we've longed to return to Barcelona for its beaches, particularly since our hands-down favorite beach is our hometown break at Zuma in Malibu (which is name-checked on all sorts of merchandise here, ironically), but when we bathed in the sunshine yesterday, we weren't disappointed.

It's raining now, but we'll be here a few more days. If it's sunny, you know where to find us.

Travel Day

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 04:07:00 +0000

Travel days are tough. Planning a trip is so much fun, I tend to forget the sacrifice of hours of packing, getting to the airport, then getting through security and customs so that we can be packed into a tin vessel miles above the earth for half a day. And that when we finally land, we're in a different time zone and we're motion woozy and hungry and have to pee and can't read the signs all at the same time, and when someone speaks to us in a foreign language, we want to admit that we can barely form our own names, much less conjugate French/Spanish/Italian/Catalan/East Texan...

I'm writing this on the second hop of our journey to Barcelona. On the first flight, I watched the final Twilight movie, played solitaire with Emme, and got chewed out by the pilot (don't ask). Thank god for the French, though - Charles de Gaulle has it's fair share of amazing "fast" food (picture of my bulgar and salt-cured tuna salad below).

This flight is far shorter, which is great because we are far less energetic than when we left California. Emme is passed out next to me, sprawled on the tray table and her stuffed penguin; she was an ashy green color as we waited for this flight on our layover in Paris and I'm surprised she even made it onto the plane. Serena and Marlowe are laying across Raf, who is trying to catch some Zs in the small seat between them. I've slept a bunch today/yesterday... or am I now in tomorrow?... and I'm too out of it to get excited about being 30 minutes from Barcelona...

But... I have a feeling we'll get there.... And we won't want to leave...

Family Travel Tips for a Whirlwind European Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sun, 26 May 2013 18:14:00 +0000

London Calling: Mia stepping out in stylish accessories

NOTE: In anticipation of my upcoming family vacation in Europe, this is a "guest" blog about my friend Mia's recent trip. I wanted to pick her brain about traveling with her family to four European cities in three countries over the course of 11 days... with only carry-on luggage! Here's what I learned...

My friend Mia is a stylish fashion blogger and well-traveled woman who puts my wanderlust to shame. Given the glorious combination of a few vacation days and incredible airfare and accommodation deals, she can assemble a whirlwind trip for her family of four (which includes husband Iñaki, son Lukas, 14, and daughter Noa, 11) on a reasonable budget.

Her latest trip, taken over Spring Break, spanned four cities in three countries over the course of 11 short days (not including travel time) for seven people (they traveled with Iñaki’s sister and her two kids). They visited London, Venice, Rome, Athens and Santorini…

Did I mention it was only 11 days?

And not only that, but they didn’t check any baggage!

In less than a month, we'll be embarking on our next European family vacation - BarceRoma 2013 - so I was dying to learn the secrets of her travel success, and Mia was more than willing to share.

First of all, she said they chose Spring Break because both airfare and lodging are less expensive at that time of year than in summer. Her family has been to Europe before and this was meant as a sort of “sampler” for the kids – choosing places they can revisit when they’re older, giving them just a taste of new cities.

Noa and Lukas

The Starting Point: Easter in Rome
It has been a lifelong dream of Mia’s to spend Easter at the Vatican, so that was the first destination on their list and Mia planned everything else around that event. While researching flights, Mia found that it was cheaper to fly through London than to go straight to Rome, so she added two nights in London to the start of the trip. Rome is a quick train ride from Venice… and the kids had never been there… so clever Mia decided they should fly there to begin their Italian holiday and take the train to Rome the next day.

Next, because Lukas is an ancient history buff and Iñaki is an architect, Athens was a must-see. And since it’s not that far from the Greek isles… well, you know Mia had to sneak in some relaxation in Santorini before returning home to Southern California.

The Plan: 4 cities/3 countries/11 days

Gelati counts as a meal, right?

So the final trip looked like this:

London - 2 nights, then fly to...
Venice - 1 night, then train to...
Rome - 2 nights, then fly to...
Athens - 1 night, then fly to...
Santorini - 3 nights, then back to...
Athens - 1 night, then fly home

WHEW! Anyone else's head spinning?

The Secrets: Mia's Tips for Traveling with Kids
#1 - Carry-on luggage - "It's so liberating! Everyone carries their own bag and even on the plane, everything you need is in the overhead bin. You literally walk off the plane and into your destination. You will never want to wait for luggage again and whatever you forgot, you can buy there. If there's a language barrier, then it becomes part of the adventure." She also suggests buying the extra large ziploc bags to store clothes in and pushing out air to minimize the space they take up.

#2 - Black clothes - "I took all black clothes to make it easy, then changed up my look for pictures by adding scarves and a little bit of jewelry. I left my jeans at home because they're too heavy and I was traveling light!" At the last minute, she grabbed her down parka, and was grateful - they encountered a range of weather and London was downright cold! Packing lighter with her regular layers enabled her to bring along a bigger jacket.

#3 - Be open to unique accommodations - Mia chose various lodging options, including hotels (and an upgrade to a very posh suite in Venice), family-run pensiones and a B&B in Rome. This last one seemed questionable to me - it was a shared apartment with four large rooms with a common kitchen/living area and the "breakfast" was a sort of help-yourself-to-the fridge thing (meaning yogurt, cereal, fruit, etc.). While that doesn't appeal to me, Mia said her family liked the way they "lived" with different people from other cultures for a few days. Also, since they spent at least 10 hours a day touring the city, they only used the room for sleeping. If that's your M.O. - spending your time out in the city versus spending a lot of time at the hotel - this could be a good option.

#4 - Scan your documents and email them to yourself - Mia scanned their passports and the front and backs of credit cards, then emailed them to herself. It's a smart way to use the "cloud" to your advantage, just in case you lose them and need the info. She also advises using a money pouch - a thin pouch that fastens around your waist, inside your clothes, and holds passports, money and important tickets - to discourage pickpockets. She's never had any trouble with theft, but she says she's always watchful. As she says, "Not paranoid, but aware."

#5 - Buy a local SIM card or cell phone - They're available at any cell phone store in Europe and can save you a bundle on roaming fees if you're calling local numbers.

#6 - Rick Steves - Mia and I agree that Rick Steves' guidebooks are invaluable when traveling in Europe. His "Europe through the Back Door" approach offers easy advice for every location, as well as tours of most landmarks and museums. Mia downloaded several of Rick Steves' free audio tours before they left and felt like she had guided tours of the major sights. She also suggests printing out his maps to help you navigate the museums. (NOTE: I just downloaded his Rome guidebook for $9.99 on eBooks for my iPad; hard to believe it was only a few years ago that I had to rip pages out of his guidebook so I wouldn't have to carry an armload of books!)

The Notebook / London

The Notebook
Mia's best tip - I saved it for last - is her notebook. Small enough to fit in a purse, her "logistical notebook" holds their entire itinerary. It includes:

* dates
* hotel info/phone number/address
* directions to sights and hotels
* transportation tips
* a hand-drawn calendar listing sights to see on each date
* admission hours of major sights and landmarks

She relies on it so much, as soon as her family landed in a new city, they would turn to her so she could guide them to the hotel and each sight. I asked why she didn't make it hi-tech and use a phone app, and she explained that everything is right there, when she needs it, no batteries or WiFi necessary. And when kids are tired and it's late and you're walking around Venice in the rain looking for a teeny tiny hotel, that's essential!

The Recap

Noa and Inaki in Santorini, enjoying the Aegean Sea

As with any trip, there were highlights as well as a few areas where Mia would have made adjustments. Spending Easter in Rome, within days of a new Pope being named, was an experience Mia said she would never forget. Even though it was cold, London charmed her more on this trip than it had in the past, too, with its funky street style and the ease of the iconic hop-on/hop-off double decker bus. Santorini, at the tail end of the trip, was a highlight because it was simply three days of relaxing, swimming in the gorgeous Aegean Sea and eating plates full of gyros, tzatziki and yogurt. However, Venice was a disappointment this time, a result of the cold weather, rain, late night arrival and early departure the very next day. She said an extra day would have been nicer, but that'll be for another trip!

Thanks so much to Mia Villarin for her tips and tricks! Look for my next installments of The Traveling Circus in mid-June, coming from Barcelona and Rome!

Geocaching in Ojai

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 18:08:00 +0000

When I began writing my novel (a young adult adventure set in Italy, with mythological themes; I promise I will give more details when it's complete... which will hopefully be sooner than later!), I created a character who loves geocaching.

Had I gone geocaching before? Heavens, no.

And so I wrote this character and I imagined what geocaching would be like... and for the most part, I think I got it right. Geocaching is an elaborate game of hide and seek, in which 'cachers hide tiny treasures and logbooks in plain sight and list their locations by longitude and latitude so that other 'cachers can find them.

But still I wondered... what's it like?

Finally, I got my chance to try it out with an experienced geocaching guide in Ojai in December. Jimmy Harvey (whose Geocaching.com handle is badfeet) is a longtime geocacher who offers customized geocaching adventures in the Ojai Valley through the Ojai Valley Inn & Spa. Jimmy is an affable, easy-to-like guy who proves the old adage You're only as young as you feel. And with his youthful spirit and enthusiasm for nature, Jimmy could easily be an adventurous 8-year-old trapped in a gray-haired guy's body. Not only that, but Jimmy is a former Navy SeaBee and was stationed in Bermuda in the 80s - which is only one of the things we had in common (my dad was NAS Bermuda's crash captain in the mid-80s). I won't digress, but it was truly a joy to reminisce about Bermuda as well as learn a new hobby.

Geocaching can be done anywhere in the world - I can imagine that clever 'cachers can find niches and hiding spots in urban areas as easily as in the woods - but I loved being in nature and hiking among the ancient oaks and citrus trees of Ojai. Using Jimmy's sophisticated GPS to find geocaches along our hike, we found dozens of tiny and not-so-tiny caches hidden on the trail. They were in trees and bushes and under rocks and hanging from trees! Some merely required standing still and looking at a usual sight with a new perspective. Jimmy kept saying, "Okay, Erin, now stop thinking and use your geocacher's instinct." Which meant, "If you were going to hide something cleverly, where would you hide it?" Often, it meant hiding the geocache in plain sight. Several times, I was STARING AT IT and couldn't see it.

(And wow, isn't that a great metaphor for life??)

I won't divulge the secret spots - it's too much fun to find them on your own and this is a fabulous activity for kids and families - but now that I've finally tried it, I'm hooked. I cannot wait to hide a few items on my trip to Europe this summer and maybe find a few surprises, too.

On Jimmy Harvey's business card, his official title is "Retired Guy" and it says, "Nothing to do and all day to do it..." Don't ya love him already? To reach him: 1badfeet@sbcglobal.net .

Healthy Travel Tips via Kris Carr

noreply@blogger.com (Erin) — Sat, 20 Apr 2013 17:37:00 +0000

I love Kris Carr. If you're not familiar with this saucy green goddess, do yourself a favor and follow the hyperlink (just click on her name, why don't ya?) to her incredible website and revolution. You will thank me later, I promise you.

Anyway, this morning I trolled her site to see what she's up to and I found a GREAT video with her tips for staying healthy while traveling. Watch it here. In it, she talks about the healthy snack mix she takes with her on road and plane trips, essential oils, and other great tips to keep you healthy and strong when you're away from home.

I haven't been posting here as frequently as I'd like, which doesn't mean I'm not traveling, but many of my trips lately have been retreads - to San Diego and to Ojai twice and back to the magical land of Texas. However, we have a big family trip coming up in June (Barcelona and Rome), so I am gearing up with travel tips and packing how-to's. One of my very good friends recently took a whirlwind (and when I say that, I mean 3 countries, 4 cities and lots of museums and sights in a week!) spring break trek with her family and I'm dying to ask for her advice, which I'll post here.

In the meantime, what are your plans? Let me know where you're going this summer and what travel tips have worked for you!