and so on...sorry it's taken so long

(12:14 p.m. in Kansas/Chicago—evening in Italy) August 13, 2006

Perhaps my favorite of blog entries to write to date!!!

Yesterday (Sunday) we took an afternoon drive up the mountain where our host, Bill wanted to take us to a restaurant off the beatin’ path where he had made friends with the family that runs the restaurant and garden. The drive itself was rather beautiful and after one wrong turn we turned around at a small bar, Bar de Andrea and thoughts of good friends at home (Miss Frigolett) set a positive note of things to come. Before I knew it we were traveling through tunnels and over mountain bridges, there was simply too much to take in and my camera couldn’t keep up with the pictures composed in my mind.

Over and around a beautiful old bridge we found ourselves lake side in the mountain town of Barcis. Barcis was simply marvelous. The mineral run off from the surrounding limestone had created the most luscious and desirable shade of green, sea foam shades that were clean without appearing pure, holding the illusion of solidity and structure—the silent and powerful lake was held captive in the mountain and graced the town side as if in sanctuary to its elegance. Barcis contained most my hearts desires, water, mountain, and architectural simplicities. I firmly announced Barcis induction to the list of places I wouldn’t mind living…

The family run restaurant, found at the top of makeshift roads—a right turn from the main roadway up the mountain—was charming, very Italian in character and perched with simplicity next to the restaurant maintained garden overlooking the mountain/lake valley! No words can describe the sight—it must be seen though one’s own eyes!

That evening we ate dinner with Bill’s neighbors Mark and Carol. Mark is also a Chief in the Air Force and he and his wife are newly weds. She recently joined him in Italy and their home is quite beautiful, very large and windy and simple in design (I plan on getting some pictures of it before leaving).

Of course Bill grilled a spectacular meal of peppers and shrimp, Carol provided the salad and the whole evening was very special. We had plenty to drink and an equal amount of photo’s to prove it and parted ways around 11 p.m.—several late evenings in row starts to take its toll…but what an amazing day!!!! L’italia è proprio bella!

August 14, 2006

VENICE VENICE VENICE!!!

How do you describe Venice? Perfect! Beautiful! Incredible!??? Venice spoke to me in a way no other city has ever done before. I immediately felt at home in this small but rather outspoken city. Each alley giving way to another way of alley’s…it was like all my dreams and illusions come to life. The gondola’s were somewhat cheesy and like the men that steered them they fit right into the deluge of the cities grandeur. I am in love with Venice and they say that is what Venice is about—so I’m headed in the right direction…

I would rather stay lose in my description of the city—for it is something to be experienced by one’s own eyes…but I can share my few pearls of Venetian wisdom (Bill will discuss pearls of wisdom in a later blog…hehe)…this is what I have learned of Venice…

The men selling fake Prada on sheets down the streets occasionally gather their merchandise in a hurry; fleeing from cops—watch out, they will run you over if you get in their way. The places that serve pizza by the slice over the counter window have the best price and the tastiest slice—don’t waste your time on a sit-down meal (its over-rated) save that for a country town in Italy. The vendors can be a bit pushy, therefore buy your treasures of the patient and kind of heart shop-keepers, regret is a nasty thing to waste a Euro over. And…last but not least, Venice is to be experienced, not prepared for or mapped about!

That night my Mother and I split a pizza (which apparently you don’t do) but those suckers are huge…and Bill and I made up nicknames for one another…I am LB or Little bit (which he has taken to calling me) and he is BB or Bello Bill! I know—we’re silly—but you have this much wine and your bound to adopt names of sorts…hehe! Ciao for now!

Tuesday August 15, 2006

Today we traveled to Victoria Venetto for the Artisan’s Faire! Victoria Venetto is at the end of many winding roads in the mountain valley filled with vineyard after vineyard and hill after hill. It was an incredible drive where we gladly pulled off the side of the road for photo’s on a regular basis. Bill complains of my taking pictures constantly but today I really saw him pull away and start taking some rather artistic shots of his own. I told him he was making me proud as he bent down and took some interesting perspective shots of the vines and grapes as well as me and my Momma.

The artisan faire was spectacular—the closest thing to the renaissance festival I’ve seen. Short of costumes and fake accents, the town was filled with incredible artisans, good food and plenty of wine to go around. I found my boyfriend the perfect gift—created by a beautiful and artistic Italian man in a small shop around the corner. He wished the best to Brent and to his creation wanting to know where it was going and that the new owner would appreciate it appropriately! I love the care and thoughtfulness put into relationships here…there is an age and honesty you come to appreciate after a few days and this was one of many examples…

We ran into an Italian friend of Bills. A wonderful woman named Christina with designer clothes and big blond hair. We shared several cups of espresso and vino with Christina and her boyfriend that day and again at dinner…I love Italy and am finding the language much easier than expected! I’ll be back again—and soon!

August 15, 2006

My Mother and I spent the entire day in Venice!!!! We had a wonderful time together. It was a bit exhausting to be walking around all day avoiding the crowds etc…but it went from rainy to sunny and its hard to tell which was better…I simply love Venice and all it entails…if there was ever a town that spoke to my heart strings it was Venice…I love it!

Enough said!!!!

August 16, 2006

The only day dedicated to rest and relaxation. My Mom and I went on a walk and rested all day! I was a bit homesick for my bird and my friends (b and g’s) and we sorted pictures and caught up on sleep! We have until Sunday!

Tonight we crossed the street from Casa Di Trevino to a little restaurante where I had more wonderful food and found out just how incredible Bill’s Italian is…

I getting rather comfortable with the succession of traditions to be found at mealtime…I might be adopting a few things into my own mealtime traditions at home. For now I am going to bed. Tomorrow we are off the Aviano Air Force base to see and F-16 and learn a little more about Bills accomplishments…

He has written a short Blog—(it’s the Vino talking…hehe that I am going to include J: hehe—no, this has been an amazing experience that I gather we wouldn’t have experienced without the amazing friendliness and wiliness for life that I’ve been privileged to partake in from our grand host. Props to Bill Trevino…and Italian Texan and his many pearls!


BB’s Addition to Lisa Blog (aka, little-bit, LB):

Where to start??? As guests go…not soooo much to say. However, as special visitors from the Land of OZ…holy shit!!! Give ‘em two rooms…they sleep in one…hmmmm! Not a good first impression, but I’ve seen worse. Resa and Lisa were easy to feed…point them to a “ristorante” and they were taking care of business. LISA is on lithium for photographers…not sure the dose is exactly right, but damn she takes a lot of pics..and some were good!

But to be honest, LISA is MY favorite!!! Without giving mom RESA the big head, I’m better for knowing LISA! Although, she really needs to understand many of my “pearls of wisdom!” You cannot imagine where I took these ladies during their visit, but trust me…every location was unique and hard to find (if you were a tourist). And to answer you question: NO YOU CANNOT VISIT WITHOUT AN INVITATION! However, those lucky enough to come with LISA may catch a break.

We took lots of pictures…ate lots and lots of great food…drank more awesome wine…enjoyed lots of after dinner “digestivo” drinks…and of course super desserts and coffee! I can validate or invalidate anything “alleged to have happened” except those moments when they rested in their room…some things I just ought not know about!

Best wishes from a Texan in northern Italy…signing off…vi auguro una bella vita pieno di tutte le cose più belle della vita!!!

Bill, aka “BB”

Sleepy and resurfacing for the day!

(2:47 a.m. Kansas/Chicago—sunny morning Italy)

Going through the standard morning wake-up procedures with my mother, our grand host is out on a long bike ride. It is nice to stay with someone who doesn’t entirely adjust their routine because you are around—it makes me feel like less of an inconvenience and gives the mind a chance to rest in between making decisions. The decisions I am forced to make are rather simple ones—meat or pasta? Vino or no vino? Chocolate or vanilla? But none-the-less decisions to be made. With Bill off on his ride we are waking in a leisurely fashion and ready to face the day by the time he resurfaces.

Yesterday we spent a beautiful day in his small village, then down in Sacille. We walked down the river stream that flows under his street to find that the water opens into many caves tucked in the side of the mountain. The caves are not visible from the side of the river as the mountain rocks slide under the water as if turning on end at the bottom. The water simply disappears in blue brilliance under the base of the mountain—glowing blue its illuminated presence is rather aw-inspiring and the crystalline quality of the water forces all its inhabitants to the surface, each rock, shrub, and fish lighted and real, encased in its clean waters. I could have stood there all day watching the ducks splash around although some would have rather I kept going, after a few minutes they too seemed content in my position in their picturesque scene.

After an amazing meal and a bit of meandering around the river we headed to Sacille to scope out the department stores. It was a part of visiting Japan that I always cherished, perhaps it is what makes me enjoy design—but to see all the variations of daily products, the things we take for granted, the simplicities of daily design that varies so greatly and or even so minutely from our own products--stirs my creative juices and makes me feel privy to sights unseen. In fact, they had several kitchen displays, kitchen appliances and cabinets, all things Italian in spatial relation and style...I could have spent days checking out the subtle quarks of their efficiencies in relationship to our own products.

Dinner was spent at a grill outside Sacille. Amazing food served in luxury outside, enclosed in bamboo awnings above a pebble floor surround; the chef’s area lighted by lanterns and the glow of their fiery oven. My mother ordered a stake and I ordered a pasta dish, but there was plenty to go around and with the vino flowing in abundance a couple hours had gone by before all the food was gone and we were ready for gelato.

Our host is quite the social butterfly and has made the most of his time in Italy. Having many Italian friends scattered throughout the northern region, we were hard pressed to find an activity that didn’t involve a round of friends welcoming him with grand surprise and open arms, and subsequently we were subject to the luxuries of his acquaintances gestures as well. The Gelato place was no exception and with our amazing sundaes piled high we goofed around and took pictures with Bill and our adorably dressed staff!

It seems as the days go by that I have a) no idea of the time other than the placement of the sun (and really no desire to find out) and b) no idea of our activities until we are enjoying them. It is a leisurely and pleasant trip with good company and good wine…

More later! Ciao ciao!

Casa de Trevino

(The afternoon in Italy (around 2:30) early morning in Lawrence/Chicago (7:51))

It turns out I will have limited access to the internet. I will continue to write my blogs and when I can I will post them, so there may be multiple posts at the same time.

I am currently sitting on the small porch of a rather small Italian villa that my mother’s friend Bill lives in. I say small in reference to its character, I suppose quant would better describe this three story, three bedroom home on the side of the base of a mountain. Each room stacked on top of the next, there is a balcony outside each of our rooms but the home remains modest in character and can be found at the end of many winding and narrow roads full of small Italian men on bicycles that Bill rolls his windows down to bid good day to as we pass.

My first night in Italy was spent in fact watching a bunch of American men play softball and drink brewskey’s…hehe, my induction into the culture didn’t begin until supper. Bill has been here for four years, an Air Force Chief from Texas who joined the ranks in order to see the world; he has never lived on base. He surrounds himself in the community, learns their language and their ways, and calls himself “an excellent host who is only a little vain about it!” In fact, Casa de Trevino has been—so far, and I’m sure to come—quite a luxury.

The Air Force base sits on a small plot of land at the base of the mountain in a town called Aviano--Aviano Air Force Base. Originally built by the Germans in World War I much of the original infrastructure is still in use and the many bunkers scatter the ground. If it weren’t for the small Italian Village on the Mountain above me “Mezzo Monte (?)” meaning half-way up the mountain, I wouldn’t have believed myself in another country.

We drove back to Bill’s Villa to dress for dinner after the game. The very small community he lives in is tucked in and around a River stream, perched hillside of the mountain base and is more than 300 years old. There are many stories of the area being ransacked during WWI and that for years to follow woman dressed in black spotted the neighborhood in mourning of the men they had lost. That at the start of WWII a famous (to the area) gentlemen whose name escapes me marched down to the troops looking to occupy the small community; he firmly told them they were not to enter and upon demand the army turned the other way and left the people and their homes alone. Bill laughs uncertain of these stories—he’s a bit of a jokester—and points out the original stone lintels that once held large wooden doors to his drive-way.
We ate at a family run restaurant down the street from Bill’s home. A family restaurant that one would have to try hard at finding something that wasn’t appetizing in. I had a pasta dish with a light red sauce with tiny mushrooms (the areas’ specialty) and sausage, a glass of wine, actually many drinks that are all catered to the time you drink them, pallet cleansing liquors, a 3 Euro a jug red house wine, a strange lemony thing that stings the flavor from your taste buds, and as we were leaving—the last to leave in fact—the girl behind the counter asked Bill a question and proceeded to get us a small shot of another potent and liquorish flavored liquor.
Today I slept all day before showering and feeling like a human again. I was so exhausted last night that I was barely myself. We are just taking it easy—on separate computers in separate spaces—my Mom working on Work and myself writing my blogs…tomorrow starts our adventures, but after two long lay-over’s, three flights and a softball game—we are ready for a rest.

OOH yay—tomorrow we are off to Venice!

Flying through Amsterdam!

(5:44 a.m. Kansas time, 12:45 p.m. Holland—waiting to board)

The flight from Houston to Holland was quite long but again we were lucky to find ourselves on a rather empty plane. My Mother and I shared a row of three seats and traded off on sharing the second seat. They served us a meat and pasta sort of dish and salad with the richest ranch dressing to be found (undoubtedly hiding the lack of freshness of our iceberg lettuce). This morning a warm croissant and a small tray of fruit was the perfect partner to a nice chat with my mother and a cup of coffee. We watched Scooby Doo! I felt ten again sitting with my Mom watching early morning cartoons; it was a comforting way to start the day before taxiing in at the Airport in Amsterdam.

The airport itself is long and winding and we walked for what seemed miles to find our gate at the other end of a different terminal. My arms are tired and my eyes are heavy and I’m sure my quiet demeanor is unnerving my Mother—but I had to take in all the clean lines and simple design elements the Dutch seem to employ in their interiors (I am a designer after all). I find it all to be straight forward if not aloof in character and I feel such a strong connection to this place. I’m sorry our stay in Holland is only the length of a two hour lay-over, and I recall these unbelievable Dutch cookies Amy brought me from Amsterdam when she was last here…I wish only for a bite of said cookies and the opportunity to share what I see (b’s & g’s)…
The intercom keeps striking up an announcement as I sit here and type; a soft Dutch accent announcing in annunciated English that “Passenger [so-and-so], you are delaying the flight, we will proceed to off-load your luggage.” My kind of people…tells is like it is and moves on…no hard feelings—just the way it is!

Occasionally my Mom turns to tell me something. With her headphones on she shouts over the music only she can hear but no one seems to care and despite the quiet area around us everyone seems in a pleasant mood (: ! From the airport I have decided that I rather like Holland and as premature as my decided interest may be, I feel an entitlement of the genetic sort and think fondly of my Dutch ancestors…

Across from me sits and older couple and I glance from my computer screen occasionally to be greeted by a sweet smile. The man is wearing green argyle socks and his tie is slung over his shoulder, his plaid shirt makes me think of Burberry and his smiling wife (so I assume) talks candidly into his shoulder as he nods over a novel. I enjoy hearing them speak and not being able to decipher their conversation beyond their body language. I feel myself the silent observer looking into a mirror; it’s a dual respect that our occasional smiles dictate in agreement. I ponder where they are going, but no more than a thought of such—their anonymity is my anonymity and I realize I could just as easily be going it alone—but I’m so grateful to have the company I am keeping. Ope…they are leaving. Just got a wink!

I wonder how my little parrot is doing just once more…and bid everyone a beautiful day (as you are all soon to be waking up)!
Happy first day in Europe! More later~

Wait! I'm still not out of the country...

(9:07 a.m. in-flight journal to Houston for Full day lay-over)

It is my understanding that the comic relief in a story is to come sometime after the first chapter. First there is the character introductions, then story development, perhaps dramatic climax, and then room in the story line for the main character to be the joke; something to compel you to their humanity and allow for a break in climactic build-up. Whatever the joke, it comes later in the story; never do we begin our tale with the heroine being the subject of hilarity.

I think my itinerary missed that bit of logistical outlining on comic relief (yes that was me labeling myself as the heroine—it is after all my story—and I feel deserving of such titles at this pointJ).

Beyond surreal notions of world travel—the idea that I will be in another country only a day from now--I firmly and anxiously announce “Italia or Bust!”

After an easy check in I boarded my continental flight to Houston to find that it was much to my great pleasure less than half full. Certainly not the Southwest Airlines open-boarding over booked flight I was accustomed to. Better yet, my Mother being the seasoned traveler she is and fellow member of the “itty-bitty-bladder-committee” smartly booked us both aisle seats directly across from one-another. It was only a matter of time before we were absorbed in our own distractions anyway. We would have two weeks to converse in small restaurants and on city benches. I was just anxious to get seated and scope out how I would entertain myself for the next two hours of free time.

I took my aisle seat across from my Mom. It placed me a seat away from an older “middle aged woman” and with a smile and a nod and thankful for the empty seat between us I slid my bag under my feet and buckled up. I have a tendency to become overwhelmed by confined spaces and was grateful for an excuse to not worry about it.

My new neighbor was clearly a gentle caring person as she smiled nervously across the empty seat at me. To her own discomfort (I’m sure) she appeared fit to fill her own small seat rather snuggling. I naturally fixed my best, “how are you,” “here we go,” “nice to meet you,” general good person smile and settled into my seat. Before I knew it and before the plane had even left the ground, I was elbowed bluntly with a small and childlike grunt by this older and clearly non-English-speaking lady. She was moving herself to the center seat and wanted my help in strapping the seat belt over her lap. Placing the clasp in my right hand she motioned that it would not extend around her waist.

Imagine if you will the amusement to be had of watching me struggle with my arms wrapped around her waste untangling and un-tucking various straps, metal devices designed for the simplest of applications made unreasonably complicated by two pairs of hands around her rather unyielding and overly furnished mid-section; Her many jackets and items of clothing and bags, her Beauty and the Best Sleeping bag making the task all the more complex. I smiled and glanced back at my Mother whose head was bobbing up and down between feet and seat getting settled. Ha! What help she was! What little sympathy I would receive for having given up the right side of my seat to a large elbow—she was oblivious to my discomforts bending and twisting about in her own airy arrangements. Deep sigh…it was going to be a long flight. I could elaborate on the rather anxious businessman in front of me who bounced around in his seat rattling my coffee on the attached tray while he cackled…yes cackled at just about everything his business companion was saying—but that would go above and beyond the one cup of coffee I have had this morning.

Fortunately I have made my way across the aisle by now and ironically placed myself in the center seat next to my Mom—subconscious revenge or perhaps I’m just happy to see her. I secured my bag from under my seat; feeling a bit guilty as I motioned from the older woman to my Mother, mouthing “My Momma!” with a smile sliding across the aisle—she smiled back as if she understood and my Mother moved aside for me to slip in. Its amazing that I ride booked flights every few months in simple comfort and my one trip on a half-full journey and I find the accommodations slightly less comfortable. Well, all worked out in the end and alas my enthusiasm is not swayed in the least!

A shout out to my second cup of coffee, the delicious Apple Spice Muffin on the tray next to me, a little bit of Jazz, and headphones from a friend…things may be looking up, but Italy is definitely looking more appealing!

More later (I have six more hours in a Texas airport with my Mother before our flight to Italy)!

I'm leaving for Italy tomorrow!

Check out my blogs over the next couple weeks to experience bits of my travels. I will try to journal regularly but if for some reason I am without internet I will post my journaling thoughts at a later date!!! For now--chow!