As Thanksgiving rapidly approaches, we are all growing increasingly anxious for the familiar faces that will be waiting at the arrival gates of our respective cities in one month's time. I, however, was lucky enough to see my favorite faces last week. Mom, Dad, Rebecca, and Henry hopped the pond to join me for their, well, our first European vacation.
School took a backseat to the last outdoor dinners of the season and the essential, day-ending, gelato with the fam. I have met incredible people during my time in Rome, but still no one compares to family, to that feeling of home that lies in the people, not the place.
We conquered the hot spots, with Mom and Dad exploring public transportation on their first and second attempts at the Vatican as well as Villa Borgese, and Rebecca enjoying the outdoor sightseeing (An hour in any given museum will put her over the edge). We spent just enough time each afternoon sipping caffe lattes as Mom consulted Rick Steves for our next stop and even got the Christmas card picture in front of the Colosseum.
Rebecca, in an amazing burst of maturity managed to make her way through not only St. Peter's Basilica, but also the Vatican Museums in order to see the Sistine Chapel. Both, I believe are noteworthy feats.
Intoxicated by Italy's ubiquitous and magical (yes, magical) leather, Mom, Rebecca, and Henry all left with hand bags. (Have no fear, Henry did not catch the man-purse syndrome, his bag was for his mother.) Rebecca even fell for a pair of boots.
We ended each day in a carb coma after sampling gnocchi, pizza, and just about every sauce we could find. We even ended up at the same neighborhood restaurant two nights in a row because the cuisine (and server for that matter) was so delectable. Our two-night stint proved that the best food comes from the restaurants with no English on the menu.
Mom and Dad experienced my open-air market, quickly fell for the fresh mozzarella di buffalo from my bakery, and even made friends with my little fruitteria guy downstairs who only sells fruit, water, wine, and beer.
So, save a minor pickpocketing attempt that Dad quickly squashed, a grand time was had by all. While I am sad that I am missing my first Norwalk Thanksgiving football game in 20 years and am angry that the stupid Italians haven't heard of a whole turkey, I feel refreshed and ready to plow through my last month having spent a great week with the people I love.
1 comment:
I think I recognize (and long for) that Trattoria in the top picture. Isn't it in Trastevere? Mama mia, enjoy it all now.
As for leather, there's a great, inexpensive leather shop just on the southern exit to the Piazza Navona. They are very friendly and made special pieces for me without an upcharge.
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