Les Désastreuses aventures de la famille Hamilton

We departed from Rome with no problems and arrived in sunny Sardinia.  From this point, our adventure felt more like a romantic comedy where everything goes wrong.  I'll recount our troubled tale, but hopefully I'll still be able to communicate how much fun we had and what a bonding experience this trip became. We rented a little Smart car for fun and headed to our B&B to check in.

Oh no!  We flew past our destination!

Our place was out in the middle of nowhere.  The roads were lonely and wide; there was sandy orange stone and  tufts of dry grass for miles. The owner of the B&B, Graziano, was thoroughly delightful.... but we had no common language.  Thankfully all my studies of Latin-based tongue paid off; somehow we deduced how much we owed him and that there is no breakfast in September with mixed French, Spanish, and Italian.  So I guess you can say we stayed in a B&.  He also helped us find a restaurant nearby for dinner.  Since we were hungry, we tossed our bags in the room and went straight to the local pizza place.  We ordered a delicious plate of local cheeses and charcuterie (heavily influenced by the boars on the island~they make a delicious sausage).   We sampled some island brews (beer, not coffee), and ate a ridiculous amount of pizza.  We did all of this in the dark.  For some reason, the power kept going out at the restaurant.  Thank goodness we were in Italy where all good pizza is perfectly baked in wood burning ovens.

ichnusa is ichtasty

Not exactly a candlelit dinner... those are the flood lights that prevented us from depending solely on the moon.

We had some good plans for day 2 in Sardinia.  We got up to take a jog and discovered that we were stationed in the midst of a large neighborhood of vineyards.  It seems the harvest had already begun as many of the workers in the fields seemed puzzled by the two English speakers running by their rural workplace.  I could jog that little area everyday and be quite content.  We then set out to do a little exploration by car and try to take a peak at Neptune's Grotto.

Glorious grapes!

We (read: I) didn't wear appropriate shoes to explore Neptune's Grotto. 

There is not a bad picture taken on this island.  Not possible.

Our trusty tiny car~ I look like a giant!

Don't you want to go for a dip?

For the afternoon we were set to take a ferry from a nearby port to Corsica.  When we arrived at the dock for our ferry, we found it was not meant to be.  You'd have to have been living under a rock to have missed the incredible number of strikes which have occurred throughout France the last couple of months.  On this particular day, all French transportation workers were all for la greve.  This even included French ferry navigators who work between the Italian & French islands.  I was distraught, but Kyle had the presence of mind to get a refund on our tickets and patronize an Italian company who had not abandoned their boat posts.  This meant a later ferry from another port farther north on the coast.  Thus we had to mix up our hotel arrangements as we'd be arriving in the evening 3 hours away from our hotel.  Kyle took care of it all; he is so patient.  We drove to port #2 for the day and had enough time for a cappuccino before our departure.  Kyle's phone rang with an unknown number.  The new hotel he booked for the night didn't actually have any rooms available.  *sigh*  We hunted down an internet cafe and found another hotel to book so that we wouldn't have to sleep in the Smart car on our European honeymoon.  Thankfully for the rest of this day, everything went smoothly.

A floating parking lot!  Seriously, "ferry" doesn't seem to adequately describe what this machine can do.

Corsica~we've arrived.

We were back in France!  Something about traveling to exotic places yet still being able to communicate is a great comfort.  Corsica looks very similar to Sardinia, but it felt great to be back among the French.  Sadly, we woke up to a cool, rainy gray day.  Just when we thought we could enjoy a day at the beach...  Alas, that doesn't spoil our fun.  We went out and got coffee and ice cream for lunch then went for a good walk at the beach where we found such delightful treasures.

Out of the rain with a lovely view

...and who needs sunshine?

This little number is supposed to be a Corsican specialty.  They are made with chestnut flour but aren't the most delish.

We explored rocky paths and took crooked self-timed photos....

...saw wind surfers....

...and kite surfers....

... and found a cat!

Kyle even liked her.  He named her Suity (pronounced sweetie) because it's like the French word to follow.  That's what she did; she followed us.

Sometimes we followed her.

We also enjoyed a Corsican beer.  This is Kyle's artsy picture.  A good day was had by all.

The rain couldn't be the only thing to thwart us this day~that would have been too simple.  We got a call from America; my dad called to let us know we needed to change our flight plans because our day was filling up quick.  We were set to return back to the U.S. in less than a week so it meant rearranging our plans for moving out of our dorm and saying farewell to friends in Metz.  Again, Kyle masterfully filled all the gaps, and we went back to enjoying our honeymoon trip.

We had been staying in Bonifacio which has so much to see.  There are beaches, the beautiful port, tons of great restaurants, and plenty of shopping.  All of this exists in what feels like two cities~the upper and the lower.  We had only spent time in the lower part because it was easy to walk to from our hotel.  We spent our second day in town exploring the upper level.  

It was chilly but totally worth an uphill hike.

What a place for Christians to worship.  I'm struggling with coveting...

Homes on the hill

Crazy curvy port

Kyle went all out on our next stop~a breathtaking B&B (with breakfast in September) in Porto Vecchio.  I wish we had stayed there from the day we departed from Rome.  In addition to staying in the most gorgeous place ever, the sun finally came out and we could finally go to the beach!  We soaked in a lot of sun, read a lot, and enjoyed a Corsican beer.  I do have to note that it was a bit windy~  or maybe it was terribly windy.  Not a bad thing on a warm day, but it is definitely unpleasant to be pelted by stinging sand at the beach.  We found sanctuary from the grainy assault behind some large beach rocks.  No problems.  For dinner we went to a really cool restaurant where the menu changed each day based on what the chef was interested in cooking and what was available at the market.  The menu was written on a large chalkboard that the waitress carried from table to table for patrons to make their selection.  Kyle and I opted to get an appetizer and entree to split.  It wasn't until we were about to enjoy our kirs when we noticed some small print on the chalkboard~ non CB (meaning no credit/debit cards).  Yet again we were in a pickle as we had a very small amount of cash on us.  We were about to pay for our drinks and depart when the waitress insisted that we could eat today and pay tomorrow.   I felt like Wimpy from Popeye~ "I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for delicious shrimp pasta dish today."  Crisis averted (though we went to an ATM after dinner to pay for the lovely meal~ not a quick task when the closest ATM was a 30 minute drive away... crazy island life).

My bud + books + beer + beach = best day ever

Since you can't photograph the wind, you can at least show it's violent wake.  Exhibit A: restaurant sign knocked over covered in sand.

Ah, who cares about the wind?

This B&B was my favorite.  Can you believe that's our view?

Breakfast~the word alone inspires happiness.  French breakfasts are usually yogurt, baguette, fresh butter and jam, orange juice, and plenty of coffee.  Simple bliss!  We got a little something extra with our breakfast~ bad news.  We have ventured into the absurd with vacation obstacles at this point.  That wind I mentioned yesterday was none other than the legendary and terrifying Mistral.  I had learned about it in my French culture class and how it wreaks havoc all over Provence.  Never in a million years would I expect it to interrupt our trip to an island in the sun.  The lady who owned the B&B informed us no ferries would be braving the waters for a few days because it's too dangerous with the winds.  No kidding~these natural ports are surrounded by imposing rocky cliffs.  For Kyle and me, we knew we were trapped.  Here we had an Italian Smart car which had to be returned to the airport in Sardinia as well as a serious deadline to be back to Metz for moving out and then Paris to fly back to the U.S.  Like, this was Sunday and we were going to fly back to the states on Wednesday.  Cutting it a little close, I'd say.  Just to make sure we knew how seriously impossible it'd be to leave the island, the wind decided to kick it up a notch.  We stayed in our beautiful room all day long and read in bed.  I've never seen or heard anything like it, but now I truly know the fear the 3 little pigs must have felt.

After many prayers and not the most restful night of sleep, we drove to the port in the hopes that the ferry would arrive and carry us and our tiny Smart car back to Italian soil.  We waited~ no one at the port knew definitively whether or not it would make the crossing.  The clock kept ticking; our departure time came and went.  Then. We. Heard. The. Fateful. Sound. Of. A. FOGHORN!!  A large ferry came into the port, unloaded it's cargo and passengers, and it was our turn to board!  They couldn't have dragged us off that boat if it were on fire~we were going back to Italy.  We had a long ride back and met some lovely Canadians who were retired teachers (all French speakers).  Back in Santa Teresa, we drove the car back onto solid Italian ground and happily set out to Castelsardo where we would stay one more night before returning home.

Let me on that boat!

We're all aboard and headed back to Sardinia.

Adieu Corsica.

Kyle again chose a beautiful place for us to stay, and the only hiccup we faced in this town was that many restaurants weren't open on Monday for dinner.  No biggie.  We loved our last day on the island~a great breakfast, beautiful weather, great conversations, lots of thank you prayers to God, and the best way to bid farewell to Europe.  It was just the best to get a week of time with just Kyle without any obligations to just be together and reflect on the incredible year we shared in France.

No complaints here.

A little poolside sunbathing before our flight.  Farewell, paradise.

Best moment of the trip?  You see a small house in the middle of nowhere with the word "formaggi" painted on the side.  You say to yourself, "Self, it says cheese, but does it mean there is cheese within?"  Well, I have a bold husband who has a weakness for pecorino romano....

Would you be tempted to enter?

This is how much cheese you can get for 7 euros.  No knives, just spoons.

Gastron-Oh-My!

Did I forget to mention the food?  Silly me.  Hope you don't drool too much while I relive these tasty treats.

Kyle and I decided we ought to go all out for our first dinner.  After all, our lunch was free so there'd be no guilt in indulging a little.  We had some friends recommend trying a restaurant around the Piazza Navona.  We found a lovely little place with a fancy menu and outdoor seating.  We were sold.  Our waitress was the best waitress in the entire world; oddly enough she wasn't Roman, but Romanian~ that's pretty cool.  She was our age and recently married and just as cute as they come.  She also set us up with some really amazing food.

Chin chin!

Stuffed & baked avocado.  Sorry Italian bread~not as good as French.

Salmon in a tomato cream sauce with yummy spinach

Alright~this one has a story.  We ordered lobster, but they ran out (actually our waitress said, "I finished it."  Her English skills were cute).  She recommended a similar large crustaceous sea-bug but didn't know what to call it.  We ate and enjoyed what we referred to as the ocean dinosaur.  After some internet research I believe we consumed the...

SLIPPER LOBSTER!!!!  I'm a bit weirded out by it.  Also, the pasta and tomato sauce was made in house~ it was so fresh, sweet, and wonderful.

No other meals will be displayed in this entry, but let us turn our attention to the desserts!  Sweets are sweet.

I don't think I've ever been happier.  This was the best use of dairy in a frozen application ever.  Ti amo gelato!

This may look like a simple pastry, but inside is the most amazing warm gooey combination~Nutella & Mascarpone.  So good.

A delicious digestive~limoncello

I'm glad to be married to a man who loves food and loves to indulge while on vacation.  By the way~ When in Rome... and Rome wasn't built in a day.  There... I think it's all out of my system now.

Rome If You Want To~ Pt II

While strolling along the frenzied streets of Rome, Kyle and I discussed capitol cities.  We've both been to Paris, London, Vaduz, Luxembourg City, and D.C.  Kyle also visited Brussels, Vienna, Sydney, Bangkok, Phnom Penh, Prague, Vatican City, Amman, and Monaco.  His list is ridiculous.  The only other ones I've been to are Dublin and Madrid.  Combined we have a serious bank of experiences for compare/contrast time.  What I will say Rome has that other capitols lack is major walkability.  Perhaps because it's city built on a city built on a city, etc, but the city feels compact and thus the distance between attractions is short.  Even though it's convenient to get by on foot (not to mention cheaper than public transportation), it's not necessarily pedestrian friendly.  The crosswalk is the danger zone.  You've never known fear until you've faced a fleet of Italians on Vespas.

We narrowly made it to our first stop on day 2 in Rome.  We started at the Scala Santa.  I had no idea these were in Italy, but they supposedly are the steps Christ ascended in Pontius Pilate's house in Jerusalem.  The mother of Constantine the Great (the first Christian Roman emperor) was said to have brought them to Italy in the 300s.  These marble steps have been encased in walnut wood to preserve them, and many a pious believer will ascend the stairs on their knees.  To me, I understand the sentiment and reverence this shows, but still find it a bit strange.  I have an award my grandfather won in gymnastic competitions at Penn State; I keep it because it's the only thing I have of his, and it serves to remind me of him.  Honestly, I treasure it.  As a Christian, I'm not sure what I would do if I had some item that literally belonged to Christ.  For all I know at that moment, it was as close as I'll ever get to physically be near something he was physically near before I die.  Maybe it could make me feel closer to him.  Deep down though, I was thoroughly creeped out by the throngs of people submitting (often times with great difficulty) to this peculiar ritual.  I've heard of folks doing some absurd things for Christ, but this looked like worshiping a stairwell and not the Messiah.

Sorry... I do go on sometimes about things.  Perhaps you'd find the Scala Santa lovely and envision all the pilgrims scaling the steps as honest people who want to walk in Christ steps but feel it's too holy for their dusty feet.  I get it, but I think I'll treasure his words and not the stairs instead.  It was thanks to Helena that we had the Holy Stairs, and her son Constantine left the Basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano just across the street.  Kyle and I didn't get far into this church because Catholic churches impose dress codes on tourists, and Ryanair imposes a weight limit on all carry-ons (meaning more shorts).  Besides, what girl wants covered legs and shoulders on the honeymoon in summer-like weather?  Pope~one or the other, not both!  Not to drag the topic out, but I did see some serious decolletage enter the basilica.  What a day it'd be when someone would be led astray by my knees and not a plunging-V.

They don't build churches like this anymore.

Larger than life Constantine

 The morning was wearing away, and there was still so much more to see.  We trekked across town to visit the ever popular Trevi Fountain.  I have visions of Audrey Hepburn and Hillary Duff every time I think of this place.  We didn't see these leading ladies there, but we did see Lady Liberty.  I was still regretting not tracking down her likeness in Paris so it was an unexpected treat to spot her here (albeit a living, breathing statue).  The fountain was nice, too.

I sacrificed getting the fountain in all its glory to photograph and remember what a madhouse this monument is.

 As Kyle and I worked our way towards the Piazza Navona, we came across the Pantheon.  Now while its name means it's for all gods, I'm pretty sure the Vatican had a hand in its current interior accoutrements.  The exterior was having a bit of work done, and I felt seriously Sagrada Familia'd.  Yes, Sagrada Familia'd means that you pay admission into Barcelona's most famous and most Gaudi cathedral only to find that the sanctuary is filled to the brim with scaffolding and there is no admittance for tourists.  My friend Amanda and I recorded a short film to convey our decepcion, and if my video loader will permit it, I'll post it at the end (update~looks like it is a no go for now).  Thankfully there was no charge to enter the Pantheon so it wasn't total disappointment.

Still looking so good after so many centuries

We had a lovely time taking in all the activity at the piazza.  There are dozens of restaurants, artists, and beautiful buildings.  This is quintessential Europe.  It probably is a huge tourist trap as well, and all the business owners probably make a killing in the summer.  Either way, we really liked this place (french for piazza) and all the little streets that wound around it.

One of my favorite pictures from the trip~ I think we are so happy because we had just consumed copious amounts of gelato.

So I had read on Justin & Marisa's blog how they had visited the prison where Paul had been jailed.  I completely forgot to look up its name before we left, and Rick Steves didn't make the cut for necessary carry-ons (what a mistake!  But I had known I didn't need swim suits and flip flops... more on that later).  When arriving at our hotel with mixed English and (oddly enough) Spanish, I tried to convey wanting to know where this place (now I'm aware of its name) Carcere Mamertino.  Turns out Kyle and I had breezed right by what we were looking for on our first day.  I clearly should have expected it to be in the ancient ruins section of town, but our concierge directed Kyle and me to a very very large fort on the Tiber called the Castel Sant'Angelo.  He said that if we were looking for a prison, this would be it.  I guess he's never read Acts because he didn't seem to know who Paul was (even when I tried out saying Paolo~ is that the Italian name Paul?)  Were we unprepared or what?  Anywho, the fort was our next destination, and we were delighted with what we found even though it wasn't what we were looking for.

Lookin large and in charge

Sant'Angelo

The view!  It's hard to capture in a photo on a point and shoot camera, but we could see the whole city from the top of the castel.

The Vatican~ we didn't venture over there because the money laundering charges made us think it wouldn't be the best time to swing by.

I consider myself Italy illiterate.  For as much as I know about France and even Spain, my education on this romance language speaking country stopped in 3rd grade after my class read Strega Nona.  I was also really into Beverly Cleary at the time equating my knowledge on Italy with Ramona Quimby.  I also did a comparative politics study on Italy in college, but talking about the government's corruption doesn't help with tourists looking for local (read: not touristy) flavor.  We started by taking a stroll by the Tiber.  Unlike Paris and Lyon, the quays are not very well maintained and seems like a haven for the homeless and aspiring graffiti artists.  It could be so much more.  For me it was lovely to get away from the chaos above on the street and be completely alone with Kyle in one of the busiest cities in the world.  We then went to scout out a cafe. With the little phrases we picked up, we ordered some cappuccinos and rested for a bit.  We were definitely the outsiders at this place~Kyle's shoes weren't made of gators.

Ponte Sisto on an overcast day

The best part of traveling for me is to be with him.

Due cappuccino per favore!

I would trade 10 Starbucks locations for one of these places in Norcross... oh heck, make that 100 Starbucks.

The sun was setting.  We made one last stop to Campo de' Fiori, but took no pictures.  Why?  I'm still asking myself that, but it looked pretty rough after a day of market.  If you've been to Europe and experienced an outdoor market, you know how lovely and fresh and wonderful all the products look and smell.  The aftermath of one of these open air bazaars is quite nasty.  There is literally trash and rotten-looking food all over the ground.  So this visit didn't make it into our collection of treasured memories.  Shall we move on to day 3?  Don't worry~it's only half a day so I won't be so long winded.

Surprise~the only place we visited on day three was the Spanish steps!  It is the longest and widest staircase in Europe, but I submit I've been on more serious steps than these (Sagrada Familia, Sacre Coeur, hiking to Croix-Rousse in Lyon, and of course the Eiffel Tower~those will make you earn your dinner).  I was hoping to discover some neat Spanish-Italian history but was surprised to discover that the steps were commissioned and paid for by a French diplomat.  How about that?

We came from behind this piazza so we descended the stairs instead of surmounting this escalier.

We picked up our backpacks from the hotel, walked to the train station, and waited for our bus to take us to the airport.  From there we flew to the Mediterranean island Sardinia.  I had been feeling a bit overwhelmed by the great multitude of people there were in Rome, and we found the peace and quiet I was anxious to find in this sunny sanctuary.  I'll fill you in on the details next time.  Arrivederci!