of Bagheria Sicily, Italy

On our second to last day, we decide to follow a tour book.  Lonely Planet to be exact.  And since it is close and we have no other plans, we head out to the train station and catch a bus to Bagheria, Sicily.

Sounds rather exotic.  It is not.  It is 3 kilometers from the train station.  The signs direct you to the longest path possible, while the street turns right and would take you directly to the piazza of art on the bay.  This is the one thing to see in Bagheria.

Since we followed the signs, we walked 3 kilometers out of the way.  That is a lot of steps, in case you want to know.

fishing boats of Sicily

The signs eventually say Aspra, which is apparently the city within the City of Bagheria.  We walk though neighborhoods, rich and poor.  Sometimes feeling uneasy, sometimes bored.  Then, we pass a tower and the remnants of a the villa of a woman who died in 1118 and whose tomb is still maintained by the local officials.  The gardens have seen better days and the walls are crumbling around them.

The most interesting part of this trip is how the three of us handle the loser choice that was made to come here.  First, there was not much blame, other than it was my choice.  Second, we all judged the neighborhoods by the trash in the street.  Third, when the scenery is the same the entire walk, people get bored.  Fourth, when the walk is long, people bitch.  Uphill, downhill, whining.  Then, we see the sea!

This is Not Bagheria but I needed a picture so this is one of Palermo Bay

I have to commend my travel companions.  For they could have trashed me badly for picking something out of the book.  But they didn't.  They did make many comments on the scenery and the trash and the dog poop, which I might add is everywhere in large cities in Europe.

Watch where you step.  Watch how you hold your bag.  Words of wisdom no matter where you travel.

Anyway, we go  to the coast finally, and it is beautiful.  If we had not already seen the Amalfi Coast, it would be very beautiful.  But we had.  So ten minutes in, the guys are ready to leave, commenting on the trash in the water on the "beach" of rocks.  Trash is very apparent when there is no distraction...

Another metaphor for life...

And now home to cook.  We have spaghetti from egg noodles that are "fresh" and new sauce from the Carrefour.  We have antipasta of salami, buffalo mozzarella and olives.  We have fresh bread and olive oil.  We have wine and most important, we have the digestive.

Licorice liquor.  It is is like licorice jet fuel.  And we  love the two sips.  We leave the half bottle behind as a token of our affection for the island. And we take the recipe book of Sicily so that we can make new memories at home.

Ciao Ciao Palermo and Bagheria.  Ciao Ciao!

of returning to work and things you wish you didn't have to do and not wanting to think about it too soon

The last day in Palermo brings great angst.  Last night, I dreamt of being back at work and having to tell my boss something he might perceive as unpleasant.  It was intermittently interrupted by loud music and this weird electrical sound outside my window.  But I digress.  (turns out the local primary school is outside my window and the wind instruments are playing.)

Today, we toured the Teatro Massimo, the third largest theatre in all of Europe.  To my great disappointment, it was built in honor of Umberto Primo, who has a statute gracing every harbor everywhere,  His statute here is large and prominent, surrounded by arches of the porto and by the sea.  Imagine my surprise to hear that he is displeased by the great theatre built for him.  He says Palermo is nothing and does not deserve such a theatre, and he never sets foot inside.

you truly have to be here to appreciate the immenseness

this is the ceiling and the painting are window that open to increase accoustics

Poor Umberto Primo.  For such a lucky man of war, he was an unlucky man of taste.  But fortunately, Al Capone did step inside.  Godfather III was filmed in the theatre.  In Spite of either of these two, the theatre is amazing.  Stepping inside is incredible and now that I know the King's box is available ( Umberto made it a public affair), I will not hesitate to try and book the best.  We have missed the opera, ballet, and other performing arts all by a day.  Such a poor planner I am.  And there are no last minute stand up seats in these theatres.  No these are for the noble, or at least those who can pay.

And in the boys will always be boys category, there is this duo who find the visual behind them hilarious.  It doesn't matter, 28 or 68, they all still have boyish humor!  Enough said on that!

We take off to see another piazza, not previously explored.  This is the plebicita, the parliament of yore.  The locals call it the "Champs Elysee " of the island. Regardless, it is a fine building with horses charging as if they would leave the building for the drivers. Hooves above your head, with brass green blazing their legs.  Down below, standard breds (or the Italian equivalent) trot through the street with carts behind.  These horses almost blind with blinders (sorry for the horse take on this) and hats, stupid beyond belief.  The traffic booming around, these horse take of trotting forward, and tour buses beside them.  I told my son, I would rather be a French dish.  I apologize for my perspective.  My horses have acreage and only one rider to respond to.  Theses poor guys, must go forth regardless of traffic, weather, or noise.  These horses are fed.  They have shoes, with wooden plates, I might add.  It is just a luxury in the US and not here.

Shopping.  Well, yes the last day should be about shopping.  We leave the piazza and head to the one wine store that I liked.  It turns out not to be a wine store, but a souvenir store.  Matters not, we buy the limoncello for our friends.  We buy balsalmic vinegar for those who don't drink.  We buy candy for those we aren't sure of.  We are thinking of you, not being here with us. And, while I am happy I can buy this for you, next time, I want you to come with me.

the monument for those who died because of the Mafia

science fair in a church of the 10th century

a pope in front of the cathedralle

our view from the deck

our veiw from the patio

I am thankful for Michele, our host.  He was most kind and most helpful.

I miss my husband, glad my daughter came, glad my one son came and thinking Lindsay could have made it, and the rest of you, we just need to decide to go!  Patrick, you live up to your Saint name. Our next destination is only one year away...

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Rising to the Last Leg Palermo

On the way to Italy, Ted continuously watched the Godfather on the airplane video console.  He said putting on a movie that you have seen 20 times makes him sleep better.  I hear the gunfire through his headphones and cannot imagine that there is sleepful bliss in this.

I bring that up, because  Palermo is very closely associated with Mafia history.  Salvatore Giuliano was the real deal.  Not the movie the Godfather, but a real Siciliani who was part of the "Robin Hood" image of Italians in the early 40's.  He was dashing and anti establishment - a villain hero, who was loved and hated by all. 

Salvatore, a handsome man

A lovely introduction to the Palermo streets.  We debated, is Palermo like Madrid or Costa Rica or Miami.  I am pretty sure the answer is yes.  Big open markets, lots of traffic, horns, whistles, yelling, hands and honking.  It is strangely attractive and sixties in architecture, though not really.  Tall buildings so you cannot see the port like one can on the Amalfi Coast.  And at the risk of the Palermo tourist industry people, dirty.  More street trash, more floating garbage in the harbor, more dog poop.

That said our little piece of heaven is fabulous.  Thanks to Michele, we have a three bedroom, three bath flat.  The kitchen is appropriately appointed and the living space and patios are to  live for.  We walk the the Ballaro Market and then down to the port.  We saunter back and hit a bar called, "the navy".  Which of course, Corbett and Ted must stop into.  We have a beer and a couple of paninis.  ( I almost called them sandwiches!)

We track along and see the Carrefour sign.  Don't know how I lived without them.  The Publix of Europe.  Open markets are great for most, but butter, oil and soap are best bought at the Carrefour!  Pronounce Cawfoe.  No r's.

patio view, like right there

View off the top balcony

sort of looks like the sun is peaking though for us

Palermo has not had time to know me, nor I it.  I love the deep roots and mysteries.  I am not sure I love the religion in every breath of every corner.  I need to feel this more deeply.  We head for Cefalu tomorrow.  Catacombs on Saturday.  Water tour on Sunday.  Busy last days.  Oh and last apartment had an elevator, and we were on first floor.  Now we are on three and a half

I miss you Charles and Morgan and Patrick.  Glad I have Corbett!

Rising to the Occasion of the Empty Office Halls

I love the empty office during the holiday weeks.  The halls are quiet and the well trodden carpet can absorb the little noise that drifts down the halls.


I can focus on my office and spend some desperately needed time cleaning and uncluttering the desk, credenza, table and the bookshelf ( I am sure that I had a great reason for saving this, blackmail? documenting some momentous event? cool doodles on the side?)

It is a time to look at the plant given me the week I started seven years ago.  The poor thing would appreciate a tad of fertilizer and a serious trimming.  It is amazing that it has lived this long in a little bowl with no drain and artificial light.  The rings on the desk where the water missed the bowl could use a shining as well.


The positive thing is that the coffee pot is not emptied before you get back, but the burners are turned off by the over protective secretary down the hall.  Geez, we can't have the coffee sit for too long or the building burns down? (does she know I am the fire captain for my area?) I hear her at the receptionist telling her how the coffee pot was full and no one is drinking it and it is such a waste.  The funny receptionist goes on and on about Christmas dinner and the presents her mother gave to the children and nutcrackers are still real in her family and the nuts are really still cracked and the children don't appreciate where all the nuts come from.......  The secretary leaves to get tea.  I will have to remember that strategy.

Since the phones aren't ringing and the internet is faster, I am pretty sure that the amount of real work getting done or left to do is not the issue of the day.  The real issue is that "I am here and others are not.  So, since I have made this monumental sacrifice to stay, I just get to do the office version of couch surfing when the phone doesn't ring" kind of attitude.  People aren't overly engaging, unless you are unlucky enough to run into the secretary or the receptionist.

Lovely though, is the bathrooms are clean and stay that way. And also,the kitchen is clean and sort of stays that way after I load the dishwasher.

I did get time to do the extra thinking, to watch that training video that I have put off for three weeks.  I listened to the the budget class that I paid for, but did not actually watch. caught up on the fleeting last minute to do lists that were left undone by December 23rd ( and we did not get any of that done yet still).

And the best part of the empty office is that I break out my Christmas leftovers and pop them in the microwave and eat them with aplomb.  I savor the sweet potato chipolte dish that I made and no one else liked.  I warm the feta scones that were extra and a piece of ham that was set aside (by me!). And I can eat without a phone or a person asking me something and I am actually reading and enjoying the time.

Yep, Christmas week at work, almost like an extra gift!

Rising to the Return from Vacation

I have not taken a two week vacation in at least 15 years.  It was FABULOUS! The thing about the two weeks is that the first week you still think about work and check your emails, the second week you so don't care!  You stop grinding your teeth and your shoulders relax.  Your hips realign because you are not driving as much as you used to.  I am telling you there is a huge difference between the four day steal that I have done for the last 15 years and the two week vacation.

And then, when I thought I got back into the groove of work,  my daughter calls crying from Switzerland.  The tears were clear in the voice, even with the lag of wi fi conversation.  And I miss her as much as she misses a great plan for mass transit.  She is dreadfully upset with the Euro Rail options for an on the move back packer.

Rick Steves be darned, she is a college grad with a non-plan plan. And Europe is supposed to be aware of her intentions.  Well, not that bad really, but she is very displeased with the limitations of non reserved second class seats.  Though after looking at her pass, she has logged at least 20 rides maybe 30 from one place to another, including Croatia and Hungary as well as France, England and Ireland.  All in all, I think she has gotten her value from the pass and she has gotten value from the experience.  How wonderful she has the opportunity.

So, I miss her when she calls and I want her to be having a great time and enjoying the diversity.  For soon, she will return to Tallahassee, which by comparison, will feel small and not so much like Notre Dame.  But it will feel like home.

Home because her dog is here.  Her kitty is here.  Her horses are here.  And somewhere way down the list are her parents and family members.  And we will embrace her return and wait for the next opportunity to celebrate her announcement.  I for one, am not in any hurry.

But back to my reintegration into the work place...  I have worked now for three full days and I was so tired on Friday!  I went to bed at nine p.m. and slept until five thirty a.m. I got up Saturday morning feeling groggy and hit by a truck.  The fact that my ribs had not healed from the fall in Bordeaux reminded me not to move quickly.

I have to say it felt good to be in my own bed.  And so nice to have my own bathroom back with my things in it and my own towels.  And even nicer to discover that my husband had vacuumed the floor and cleaned the sinks!  lovely homecoming.

I am already plotting my next escape.  I hope before the return to France in 2014 for the World Equestrian Games.  I would love to see Australia or New Zealand or even more of California.  Pennies in a sack, every day, I drop my pennies in a sack....

Glad to be home, so glad to have a home to come home to!

Rising to Leaving It is really hard to do

Leaving our little spot in Bordeaux at 7:30 a.m. was sad.  Sadder yet, because last night, I got up to find the bathroom and before I knew it, down on the ground, banged into the large stone in the bottom of a four foot cave.  I just stayed there for a moment before I realized that I was hurt.  The ribs had smashed into the stone and just bruised and injured before I had a grasp on the wall!

Sorry that I fell, but teeth were yet to be brushed, so I limped to the bath, which has a sink bath combo in one room and a loo in the other.  The entry way to get there is four feet tall.
while the cave feature is a lovely idea, there are some things that one wants to be aware of.

Our room is basically the wine cellar in an old (European Old) home.  The wine is in a glassed off section and locked.  The beds look at the wine and the door to the loo is four foot and wide and wooden like a castle door. And heavy and leads to a four foot high tunnel.  All was well till I missed the step.  Drats!

View from the Bed

View from the Bed to the reading wall

the way out

We left our humble wine abode and cave and headed back to Paris.  Walking back through the Christmas market sort of felt like home.  For the Tallahasseean's it is like having the Market days of Tallahassee on every street of the plaza and then some.  Into our lovely hotel at Champs Elysee, the friendly staff and the interesting atmosphere.  I would say the large part of the residents tonight are of mid eastern descent with lots of special arrangements for them.  Their own reception area in the lobby, quite nice and healthy.  The long outfits that they wear are sure to keep them warm as well.

We checked in, cleaned up and took off for the shopping district.  The whole place is decorated head to toe.  It is more fun to watch people that buy things.  The shopping centers have open to the street doors.  The mall guards are everywhere and the people are 6 deep in every direction.  It is amazing the nonchalance of the parents about the children.  They hardly look back as kids run behind ahead and drift through crowds.  Perhaps too much American TV has turned us paranoid.  Or perhaps, I don't understand growing up in a big city where crowds are the norm.  Either way, the whole city is bustling and alive and shopping.

We had a fabulous lunch at the LaDurre, home of the macaroon.  It was tasty, fancy and French all at the same time.  Morgan had the fanciest sandwich I have ever seen and I had lobster.  The lobster was half the price of the sandwich!  I think I got the better deal.

The walk to shopping was pleasant and day was crisp, but not cold.  I enjoyed the walk after the long train ride in from the "Provence" The scenery was so like Indiana except less wind turbines and more castles, and of course more vineyards.  But lots of wheat and corn growth happens here, remarkable.  And beautiful.

But once on the streets of Paris, one is obliged to stay focused on the streets of Paris.  All around you announcements to avoid pick pockets and tricks and you are warned by every hotel agent.  I didn't have any trouble, but then I have a nifty little handbag with hidden pockets in it (thanks to my husband :) )

The Christmas decor is totally extravagant as you can see.

The buildings are all the old opera or archives or palaces and have been transformed for modern use.  All of the stores are beautiful.. All I have to say is that your wallet better be beautiful too!

For our massive entertainment for the night, we attended a show by Olivier Giraud.  I saw his ad as the only all English speaking comedy show in Paris.  I asked Morgan and she said yes.  Once again there was tension as we could not find our way to the show.  Looking forward and looking down did not allow us to see it was on our left the whole time!  Geez, what kind of fuddy duddy fusses over the show directions?

The guy was great fun and to our surprise, when he asked what cities of America are here, there was only one: Tallahassee! Four of us in the audience and all from Tallahassee.  What fortune! So the show goes on and I will not spoil it for you, but the trailer is on youtube.  He was very funny and all of it ringing with some form of truth.  Towards the end of the show, he picks the Tallahassee lady Rainey to come to the stage.  She does extremely well and applauds abound. 

 When the show was over, they graciously waited and we got to meet Pierre Vivier and Rainey of Chez Pierre, in Tallahassee.  We enjoyed their story of love and adventure.  Pierre, that daring rascal, went to Macon, Georgia with the Allman Brothers Band in the 60's and then off to Tallahassee with his love who was in FSU.  How fun, on this trip around the world, I have met two people with Tallahassee connections (not counting my daughter)!  I couldn't find a lot on the internet to share with you about them, but they apparently sold the restaurant to a relative, who had to sell for health reasons.  That was why Chez Pierre became the Front Porch. But apparently, Pierre is still the king of chocolate. As a funny aside, Morgan said she was backpacking through Europe and Rainey said, yep, I did that in 1966!  What a great connection for life.  Awesome choice young Morgan, awesome choice.

 Rainey had the gleam in her eye as she said that to Morgan.  Wondered if there was more to the nod and and the wink than, yep I know that.  There was definitely a pride thing of, I did it myself.  But I secretly wonder if there was a little community of souls that says yes, I did that.  Just that.  And I made it.

And maybe that is why the bistros in Bordeaux, small with 10-12 tables and limited menus still do well.  Do a few things really well and let others do a lot of things sort of well.  There are many big chains that have the chain thing down.  I just think that we have lost the focus of do less, but do it well.  People will pay for quality, if it is known (Tiffany's of Bern's Steakhouse).  People will pay a lot less for psuedo quality that is known (Steak and Shake or Walmart or Best Buy).

And speaking of doing things well, but in a limited space, I have thoroughly enjoyed my trip. The people were fabulous, the food is wonderful and the time with my daughter is priceless.  I will always appreciate my husband's support.  And I hope that the secret wink and nod, "I did that community" for my daughter will eventually be something she looks back on and maybe even writes about.

I love you Morgan Higman and I love you France!