Back to Normal Life...awwww

Don't you feel sorry for us?  After such a nice vacation, we have to come back to...
...a cappuccino with Signore Grassetti in the newly reopened (!!!!) Cafe Medioevo
...a conversation with Giuseppe, our lovely friend
...a BIG package from Amazon, delivered in our absence to the neighboring shop (but listed in the delivery information as having been signed by "Hook")
...Angelo, with the freshest of oranges and the most beautiful spinach (I met the man who grows it at Angelo's -- he told me later when he saw me out walking that he'll let me know when there's more ready)

Not that Michael was tired
& fell asleep on the floor or anything...

Okay, okay, so it's not all bad.  Frankly, in my opinion, life is pretty wonderful.

But I owe you the story of our remaining days and our trip home.

We thought this sky was amazing
-- do you see the ripples?

The bad news: my knees came unglued.  So I had to spend the last, beautiful, glorious, wonderful ski day at home by myself.  The good news?  There's always knitting; also, the expression "Silence is Golden" holds a lot of meaning in my life. And the kids & Michael had a fabulous time out on the slopes.

The village of Morgins

We decided to go via Zurich to get home.  While it would at first blush seem absolutely loony, it was (according to Google) an hour longer -- but was all highway.  Which means that the roads would be clear.  As a veteran of the trip up, I can tell you that this route held a lot more appeal than ice skating through the mountain passes again.  And given our average speed over those passes, it would probably be faster taking the longer route.

So, we got up early, scrubbed the house, and got on our way -- leaving only memories behind.  Having five kids means that I secretly think we also left single socks and mittens, but one can always hope.

About an hour into our trip, I called Rosly!  Rosly is my beloved grandfather's companion of many years who was extremely devoted to him until his death soon after my marriage to Michael.  I don't think I've even seen her since then, to tell the truth.  Anyway, she lives in Zurich, and I could not possibly get within spitting distance of her house without giving it a shot.  Not literally, of course.  One couldn't imagine anything so uncouth with such a lovely and well turned out lady.

She was thrilled to hear from me.  I timed it carefully (I thought) so that she would have enough time to dress and put on her face, but not enough time to make a three-course meal and get flustered about being a proper hostess.

Of course, I was outflanked and outmaneuvered at every turn.  To begin with, it took a whole lot longer than I'd anticipated.  Then, if you've never driven in Zurich...don't make it a life's goal.  There are one-way streets, things marked on the map as streets which turn out to be stairs, and absolutely no  street parking unless you have the proper permit.  Bear in mind, this is Switzerland -- you will be ticketed.

The Hookmobile.  Don't you think the new chains look snazzy?

Leaving

We finally found public parking through blind luck (or as a beloved colleague once said, "Even a blind squirrel can sometimes find a nut"), and walked to her house -- number 31, as I've addressed my letters for years.  The thing is, um, her name wasn't listed at 31.  I called her again, and she blithely told me where we should park for free right next to her house (she owns a parking spot -- gah!), and that the reason she wasn't listed at number 31 is because she lives at number 35.  Makes me wonder whether the postman knows her or whether she never got any of my thank-you notes over the years...I promise I sent them (well, most of the time)!

Walking up the stairs (note the stairs, they are important), she opened the door with a warm smile and a chuckle.  And that's when she noticed the quantity of Hooks in the stairwell.  She laughed and said that we just kept coming and coming!  She greeted all the kids (some of them twice!), and said that she'd had no idea how many of us there were!  She was terribly worried because she'd only made smoked salmon sandwiches for two or three...and there were only enough egg salad crackers for us to have one each!

After some convincing, she allowed us to take her to lunch at the "old folks'" home. Here's where the stairs come into play: Rosly will be 88 on Saturday.  She still drives.  She still walks to do her grocery shopping.  She still goes to the gym three times a week.  And she's still an absolute knockout -- always well turned out.

Everyone enjoyed their lunch; I ran to do a quick grocery shop for the things we can't buy in Todi, and then it was time to go.  Of course, she handed out Swiss chocolate bars to each of us (you did know that the Swiss eat more chocolate per capita than any other country, didn't you?), and it was time for us to brave the streets of Zurich in order to get back to the highway.

We nearly weren't brave enough.  Michael almost had a nervous breakdown -- there were several intersections where no right of way was marked, and many of the road signs were unfamiliar -- and I almost got out of the car and walked (have you learned yet that the task of navigation is a thankless one?).  After about 55 minutes of hell on wheels, we made it to the highway.  Phew.  Which meant we could take a very beautiful route home, as well as going through the Gotthard Pass (no line!) -- Europe's longest tunnel!

Partway home, the Fiat place called to inquire whether we were ever going to bring the van back....






Love,
Alexandra