It's official

The time has come for my last post.

We have settled into mundane life ironically right back where we started from. The glaring change, this time around it doesn't feel so mundane. Maybe traveling is, in the end about a quest to re-invent ones attitude towards life. Surely this is one of the jewels we have brought home.

We picked the kids up from there first day of school to an unusual enthusiasm, "so nice everyone speaks English!", "I wish Mr. Charles would be my teacher every year!", "every girl in class wanted to play with me!", "We just had free draw like the whole day!". Josh and I joke that the kids got grateful, that anything is better than being stuck in a van with your parents for four months. The truth be told I think we feel just as grateful and excited as them.

I would be lying if I didn't say we left a piece of our hearts in Europe. But for now these tired travelers are glad to have a place to call home full of people who love them.

O's and X's from all of us!

Cold, still and clean Zurich, CH was a retreat after the endless party in Italy. The family caught a cold, bought closed toe shoes and hiked high in the alps. Somehow we happened upon the town where Heidi was filmed, picked apples, hung out at the parks and counted Lamborghini's by the dozen. We saw more friends and were super glad to catch up with those that are neglected by our normally far distance.

We had a brief stop in Freiburg, Germany to see some friends from back home. Josh and I felt guilty hearing about how their kids were doing in school. Crap, we thought, we'd better hurry up and figure out a place to stop for the year. Fortunately we were able to save face when at the dinner table Angelo shocked us all by starting up a conversation about all the different currencies we have seen... Whew, it at least appeared the kids had't lost brain cells over the summer.

We decided to head farther North for Copenhagen before the winter rolls in. To get there was an 11 hour drive through Germany. I had only been told tales of the autobahn in Germany... I was relived to see that there was (contrary to hearsay) a speed limit of 130 kph. That relief was short lived after 15 minutes on the road when it became clear that the speed limit was not obeyed or enforced. We sped up in the caravan to an uncharacteristically fast 85 mph. Still people where blowing past us. Really, going like in the 200's according to Angelo's calculations.

We stopped for the night somewhere in the black forest. We aren't sure if it was the "official" black forest but it sure was dark, rainy and spooky just like the storybooks. It was 1am, behind a Mc. Donald's, in a strange hotel where we managed to get some shut eye. I was amazed that I could sleep with the howling of traffic outside. The "howl" was truthfully more like an otherworldly ghost cry. Even Josh couldn't explain it. After 5 hours of sleep I couldn't stand it any longer and carried everyone to the car to sleep while I drove the early morning shift. It's wonderful the distance you can travel if you head out early. A beautiful gold morning light broke through the drizzle and the miles ticked down. We made it to the car ferry for Copenhagen by 2pm and my new nickname was born, "Road Ahnemal" (you must pronounce this with your worst Arnold Shwarzenegger accent). What a relief Copenhagen appeared after three weeks in Switzerland. Rainy, dirty, salty, royal, unpractical, liberal, friendly and just plain San Franciscoish.

Family

This is where I take a moment to reflect on our experience of Vasto.

I am not sure why I have such a itching desire to see where my family came from. I wonder where I will stop. I don't think i'm ready to take a genetic test and walk the path back to Africa but I am really riveted by the people who wandered out on pilgrimages to unseen lands. I think the world sees California as a land of prospectors and to a certain extent we are. Being in Vasto I kept wondering who my Great grandfather was and why he got on a boat to go to America with his brother, sight unseen. There are the obvious reasons why people move, but then there is the unquantifiable part that separates those that leave from those that stay. Somehow I can relate to this man i've never meet. Maybe we share a gene that seeks to look for more than just the mundane in life. Josh will wake me up in the morning and ask how my "almost mid-life crisis" is going. I have to say it is going really well. One evening we walked into one of the old piazzas in Vasto and found a man putting on a small puppet show, hand made marionettes and the whole bit. The last act was a story where the "old man" puppet had two apples in front of him and the puppeteer asked him to choose an apple. While the old man stood hesitating a calendar behind him changed though years and decades. In the end all you heard was a slow train moving, then and the indecisive old man's chest opened up and he flew over the crowd and into the after life. Even the kids were awestruck. Somehow this kids puppet show seemed validating of our voyage into the unknown. I don't feel like I have figured out the meaning to life but I do think I share some genetics that enabled me to at least pick an apple and go. It is a funny thing to start to see family as a whole entity. I will post some pictures below...

Wedding Pilia

Made it to Pulia, a region in the south of Italy for a friends wedding. We drove out of the mountains of Abruzzo and into a mostly flat landscape. If you have never been there think of stone walled gardens and fields, fruiting cactus, crystal waters, heat and the best mozzarella/ food ever. It is obvious that this area missed the abundant times of the North but what is there is an Italy that hasn't changed itself for tourism. The food is amazing and in this dry land we found the abundance of Italy alive. The Southern Italian wedding was like a dream. Both the bride and groom couple live in the valley but had family come from everywhere. The group was midbogglingly global. It was so fun to see so many people from so many places and languages enjoying friendship together. It was a reminder of how rich life can be because of our differences. We ate and danced, and ate and danced, and ate and danced. A really sensational occasion to be a part of!

Finally a moment where my energy has outpaced the family and I can write. The gang is having a siesta now. We have found this to be most important in Italy since most restaurants don't open till 8pm for dinner.

Where did we leave off? Ahhhh way back in France on our exodus from Spain. After a night in Perpignion we made it to Josh's friend in the south of France in Toulan. We had a wonderful chance to hang out with friends and make others. This is where the kids discovered the Mediterranean. What a treat, accessible, safe, warm sea water. A couple weeks latter and we still can't get over it.

From Toulan we drove a rainy day to Vernaza (the town where Josh and I married) in Italy. It was a treat to show the children the church where we got married, hike to neighboring towns, boat, dinner with Il Priete and just be in a very magical place. On first arrival Angelo couldn't believe how the kids of the town could play around town with ought their parents. By the end they were feeling the liberty's of Italy and racing around town independently.

After Vernazza we decided to head to Vasto (a city on the adriatic coast where my Grandmother's family is from). We made a couple day stop at a farm outside of Montepulciano and enjoyed the Tuscan countryside, wine, and hot springs. A short day drive and we made it to Vasto. We figured we needed to sit still for a while, organize ourselves and take a vacation from traveling. This may seem like a funny idea but being a homeless vagabond with three young children carries with it an intensity. Our high moments are so high and our low are so low. One minute where getting carjacked and the next watching a beautiful fireworks display. We have experienced so much I think we all needed a break. Thus Vasto for three weeks.

I think we are all getting introspective at this point about what this trip means. Apollonia mentioned that her friends must be wondering who she will be when she goes home. I asked her what she meant and she thought for a while before answering, "Like now I am kinda French". "French?!" "Yeah, I'm the type of kid that wears bikini bottoms with ought the top." For me I know that European kids start school the middle of September and I would like to figure out where we will stay. Josh has just started the Job hunt but all of Europe it seems is on Vacation for the month of August. We'll see what happens but employment aside if we all had our druthers a year in Italy sounds pretty good.

The eight O'Clock church bell has rung and the kids are up from siesta so it is time to sign of for now. More sooner than latter... I promise. Four stops in three brief paragraphs is silliness. Thinking of you all at home.

After Biarittz

This story is typical of the way things go when your traveling wild in the world with ought a plan. Well, we thought we had mad a plan to go to Toulouse and then on to visit friends outside of Marsille. We got the car packed, started off to the moterway, pulled out the atlas and decided since geographically we were so close to Spain why not spend a night in Barcelona instead. Besides neither of us had seem the Pyrenees mountains and we could drive through the micro country Andora la Vella on the way.

It was sunset when we made it into the mountains, we were planning to camp but it was getting late, and we were starving so we ot a bite and happened upon a music festival in some small village. A bad duck confet, basque square dancing and a park trip latter the whole group wanted to sleep in some shelter so we hoped in the car to look for a hotel. Before we knew it we were 15 minutes out of town with only a palace to stay in. Josh told me not to convert from Euros to dollars and it would all seem appropriately priced. I slept like a baby and was ready for Barcelona the next day. On our drive in we had seen signs for a grotto with cave paintings so we thought it would be cool to see some 15,000 year old art. We followed the signs to what looked like a archeologists theme park for kids. Fake cave water falls, demonstrations on how to make fire ect... All was dandy till we tried to find the caves. Apparently we had paid $80 so the family could in a pinch have some skills to live in a cave. I have to confess when I found out that it was a two day wait to get into the caves I got emotional. It must not have been an attractive sight to have a grown woman sitting on a bench, tears streaming and whining about the suddenly most important thing ever. I think I actually said, "by the next time i'm in the Pyrenees mountains I might be a blind old lady". Only a art dork would feel so wounded.

I managed to pull myself together (barley) and we all got in the car for Andora and then Barcelona. The sensation of driving up into the clouds helped ease my pain and by the time we were in Andora I was recovered.

Josh and I started thinking about how great it would be to settle in Spain for the year, learn spanish and eat lots of paella. The fantasy ran wild and we were all set to settle in Barcelona. Dusk again, we made it to Barcelona. I saw Sagrada Familia from the freeway so I knew where to get off. We started driving around checking it all out, looking for a place to live and a room for the night. Things looked rougher than I had remembered pre kid, that dark wild spooky side of Barcelona just started looking spooky. Narrow alleys with grafitti and rough men lurking. At one point I looked at josh and said, "if my parents sold my house, took me away from all my friends and ploped me in Barcleona I would be scared shittless". Josh was still high on the spanish cool-aid and told me to be quiet.

We found a nice area and Apollonia was doing her I have to pee freak out so I let Josh and her out at a hotel and I circled while they did there thing. This is where at a traffic light on a busy street I see a man walking to the car. I am getting good at ignoring people in hopes that they don't talk to me in a language I don't understand so I did my thing and started rolling up the window. Next thing I knew he was at my half rolled window telling me to get out of the car. I slid my elbow over to lock the doors with my finger still on the window button. I realized the passenger window was likely down and looked to the right to see another guy walking up the side of the car. In a surreal flash I heard the first guy pulling at the door handle trying to get in. Josh thinks it is so great that I did the right thing by not letting them in but it wasn't bravery. Some things just are not an option when your kids are concerned. I got a real sense of how f**** up this was with guy two showing up so I started to pull over into the clear right lane. Not sure if guy one moved because I was starting towards him with the car or what but before I knew it they had vanished and I back around the corner at the hotel. I double parked and lay on the horn so that Josh would come out with ought booking the room. He got in the car with stories of a drunk belligerent irish group and after swapping stories combined with Angelo's fear of Espana we decide to head for France.

We pulled over at some small town to grab a bite and sat on a patio and watched the most amazing half hour fireworks display. We all felt better reaffirmed and ready to pull through to France. Suddenly learning to speak french seemed completely practical. I wonder what rents are like like in Paris?

To much for one post!

Lots to cover so here we go...

Paris was AMZING. Angelo spent his 8th birthday at the eiffel tour and eating a parisian macaroon cake in a small french park complete with topless sunbathers, smokers and well dressed children. At dinner we had the waiter bring a candle in Angelo's creme brule. Angelo looked very upset when the whole restaurant sang happy birthday with heavy french accents. I asked him what was wrong after the excitement died down, "I just was hoping they would sing in french". That disappointment aside we had a magical time in Paris. Doing nothing really. We coveted parisian style, shopped at the big yearly sales, went to pocket parks and just enjoyed the amazing eye candy that is Paris. Angelo wanted to save a wrapped sugar cube it looked so pretty. I felt that way about everything.

In Paris we rented a car an drove to Antwerp to pick up our van. We picked it up in a warehouse district, fields of corn and cows grazing between the buildings. We dropped the rental off and drove to Lille france for the night. It was a great thing to ship our car. So nice to have something familiar, bikes and a place for all our junk. Three kids on trains and taxis around Europe... every bag of luggage feelt like the weight of the world.

From Lille we headed to see Josh's cousin who lives in a farm outside of Mayenne. We got to check out french country living and try out camping in the van. It felt like heaven to be parked under a fruiting cherry tree on some farm in france. We really relaxed for the first time on the trip... that is until mid-day we heard Angelo scream, "AHHHH, Babe is hurt!". We rushed outside to see Apollonia standing on the gravel driveway blood dripping from her face. Since this wasn't the first head wound suffered by her I new the ropes. Pressure to the cut on her forehead and a trip to the doctors for stitches. Were talking an inch long gash between the eyes. At the french country hospital they were very confused by us. I guess they have english speaking patients but never from america. Fortunately Josh's cousins girlfriend spoke to them in french. A nice doctor glued her up and told us to look for any signs of infection. O course by the next day we could see under the glue an infection was brewing. I was not looking forward to going to the hospital again and having to explain that in America our phone numbers are longer and we don't have green health cards, that our health insurance will pay them directly. Anyway I did what anyone who has delt with a bureaucracy in a language they didn't speak would do. I sent in my husband. Josh did amazing, Apollonia got her cut cleaned, stitched and even got awarded a certificate of courage. They did ask Josh to pay which he did. Do you know how much it costs to go to the ER in france two days in a row and get stitches? $80! Prescription medication? $10 I think in the US our co-pay for one ER visit would be more than all combined. That evening we decided to stay in Mayenne at the farm and even got a cool tour of the cousin's bronze casting studio.

From the farm we headed down and over to the atlantic coast. We stopped at country farms and bought fresh milk and cheese. Tooled through little villages and eventually made our way down to Biarritz a surfer town on the border of Spain in Basque country.

It is almost time check out at our hotel in Perpiguan so I have to sign off. I will try to catch everyone up tonight on our time in the Pyrenees mountains, attempted car jacking in Barcelona and one long night of driving to make it back to France.

England

Well, yes, we made it across the pond!

England always hits me in a strange way. I'm not sure why. Maybe waltzing through security with my UK passport makes me feel as though I should like it more than I do... feel more nationalistic. I still find it magical, oddly familiar and so tormented. There is a dark underbelly that is moody and deep but also beautiful.

After some days in London with my aunt and girls we trained to Edinburg where Josh had a meeting. I had no idea what a grand ancient place it was. Eye candy everywhere, narrow stars leading to tunnels to secret gardens. I half expected to see dragons fly over. We meet with friends and while we ate the kids made friends and played in series of stone walled gardens till sun set (12 or so).

After a couple of days we drove 2 hours south to County Durham in England where my mother was born. We stayed at Lumey Castle, complete with ghost stories, candle lit passage ways and high tea in the library. If London wasn't enough immersion this was it. We drove into Durham and visited the grand cathedral, my mothers house, ate indian take out in a park/cemetery. Such and odd feeling to be in a place where my ancestors had been for centuries. Walking the same cobblestone paths. I really have no equivalent in America.

On the way out we drove through the moors to the small town of Cotherstone where my grandfather was born. If you have ever seen All Creatures great and Small this was it. Sheep, farms, little churches, overcast and misty. We stopped at the Thorney Rose for Lunch. Angelo begged to bring his milk home and after a big scene I realized it was fresh. Poor boy had never tasted such good fresh milk and was desperate to save it. I went out to the car and found an old water bottle to transport this precious lot. We hiked down to the Hauge where the family used to picnic. Apollonia picked wildflowers, we looked for fairies and maybe spotted a few.

All this wholesome fun and then a short drive down to the London area where we again saw the American corporate take over thriving. Mc Donalds everywhere, Starbucks, grocery stores with cloths for sale, prepackaged food. Some of it is shockingly more American than America. I even wound up shopping at the Asda store and looked down at the receipt to see a note thanking me for shopping at a Walmart store. AHHHH!

We are here by Briton now visiting Josh's side (more on that latter) before taking the ferry to France.

Pictures below...