On Sunday I ran a 10K road race in Foligno. The weather was oppressive for this time of year: chilly, overcast, and drizzling. The Italians hated it--one threatened not to run if it rained--but since my battle is always with overheating I felt pretty cheerful about it.
The course was very flat. I think the largest rise was a few meters up to a bridge. That is nice for good times, but I prefer a hillier course because of the variation in pace and because I handle uphills better than many runners.
The corse ran from the local sports complex, into several parts of town including the downtown pedestrian area, and back to the complex, where it finished on the track.
Massimo submitted our race results to the local newspaper, and you can view them here. I was very pleased with my time because it was a significant improvement on prior times and ended up being 5 seconds per kilometer faster than my goal time.
This coming weekend is a 12K, also in Foligno. Except that the details on the race poster give the distance as 11.750 km.
Michael
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Anything but routine...
Last night, Ashley and I were gaily traveling to her concert in Fratta Todina. We had just come into the town, and we were wondering where we were supposed to be exactly. A town name is a good starting point, but...
She pulled out her notebook, and found the name of the concert location. Which didn't help too much, since we aren't that familiar with the town. When in doubt? Ask around! And there it was! A handy carabinieri car with two dapper policemen standing next to it! Perfect!
I slowed down, only to notice that one of them had walked out into the street waving his reflective plastic lollipop, beckoning me over. Hmm. I didn't think I'd been speeding, but...
I rolled down the window with a cheerful smile, and asked if I'd done anything wrong. "Yes, you came to Italy," was the unpromising reply. Trying to keep up a good front, I started looking for my driver's license and libretto (title book, which you must have at all times). As I was going through the plastic folder with those documents and fumbling around, I heard one of the two talking enthusiastically about my car. The other one was impressed when, upon my giving up & handing him the whole folder, he saw that the libretto was the original one for the car.
He was not impressed, however, by the fact that at some point my international driving permit had become wet -- causing the photo to stick to the certified document, etc., and rendering it unusable. He was willing to take my US driver's license alone, but wanted to know what "Class C" means. I don't even know what "Class C" is, but I cheerfully offered him the Russian translation in the back of the international booklet...until I found the Italian translation. He was satisfied that if I can drive a van in the US, I'm permitted to take my itty-bitty sweetie out on the road.
He then commented menacingly that I should be prepared to sell my car. Shocked, I replied, "But no! It's my 6th child!" At that point, I still wasn't sure exactly how much trouble I was in or what exactly I'd done. Ashley was of course worried about being late to the rehearsals (completely unfounded, since the rehearsals started 20 minutes after the named arrival time, and we were the first ones there, as it turned out, but still), and I was worried about multiple hundreds of euros in fines.
I couldn't stand the suspense any more. I got out of the car and walked over to their car, where they were perched in an impromptu office-like setting -- clipboards, stacks of paper, and so on. I finally asked what exactly I'd done, to which they cheerfully responded, "Nothing! This is just a routine traffic stop."
Phew.
We asked directions to the concert location, and drove off into the sunset.
Love,
Alexandra
She pulled out her notebook, and found the name of the concert location. Which didn't help too much, since we aren't that familiar with the town. When in doubt? Ask around! And there it was! A handy carabinieri car with two dapper policemen standing next to it! Perfect!
I slowed down, only to notice that one of them had walked out into the street waving his reflective plastic lollipop, beckoning me over. Hmm. I didn't think I'd been speeding, but...
I rolled down the window with a cheerful smile, and asked if I'd done anything wrong. "Yes, you came to Italy," was the unpromising reply. Trying to keep up a good front, I started looking for my driver's license and libretto (title book, which you must have at all times). As I was going through the plastic folder with those documents and fumbling around, I heard one of the two talking enthusiastically about my car. The other one was impressed when, upon my giving up & handing him the whole folder, he saw that the libretto was the original one for the car.
He was not impressed, however, by the fact that at some point my international driving permit had become wet -- causing the photo to stick to the certified document, etc., and rendering it unusable. He was willing to take my US driver's license alone, but wanted to know what "Class C" means. I don't even know what "Class C" is, but I cheerfully offered him the Russian translation in the back of the international booklet...until I found the Italian translation. He was satisfied that if I can drive a van in the US, I'm permitted to take my itty-bitty sweetie out on the road.
He then commented menacingly that I should be prepared to sell my car. Shocked, I replied, "But no! It's my 6th child!" At that point, I still wasn't sure exactly how much trouble I was in or what exactly I'd done. Ashley was of course worried about being late to the rehearsals (completely unfounded, since the rehearsals started 20 minutes after the named arrival time, and we were the first ones there, as it turned out, but still), and I was worried about multiple hundreds of euros in fines.
I couldn't stand the suspense any more. I got out of the car and walked over to their car, where they were perched in an impromptu office-like setting -- clipboards, stacks of paper, and so on. I finally asked what exactly I'd done, to which they cheerfully responded, "Nothing! This is just a routine traffic stop."
Phew.
We asked directions to the concert location, and drove off into the sunset.
Love,
Alexandra
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Mistaken Identity
I went to the bank in the Piazza the other day to take some money out of my (Italian) account. No problem, right?
Wrong. The lovely young man behind the counter (who knows my name & account number off the top of his head) told me that they can't give you money if your account wasn't opened at that branch. You can use the ATM card in their machine, but no teller service. He told me it was because they'd had problems with impersonations. When I pointed out that he knew me by sight, he just sadly shook his head and tsked.
I have now closed the account that I had in the Ponte Rio branch and have reopened an account in the Piazza branch of the same bank. And that was an adventure, too!
So, hold onto your seats, and here we go:
I walked over to the lady who sits in a glass cage, much like in the U.S. (if you discount the brick barrel-vaulted ceiling dating to the 1400s). And here, the resemblance stopped short. She was with a friend, putting on her coat, and clearly preparing to leave the bank. When I told her what I needed, she looked simultaneously mildly abashed and conspiratorial, and asked if I was in a hurry. She knew and I knew that she was about to go to the bar next door to sit with her friend over a cup of coffee.
I suggested that she take a photocopy of my documents and then she could set up my account at her leisure. She knew all about what type of account I had already had down in the Ponte Rio branch, so all I'd have to do is come back later to sign the (many) documents required.
A week later (well, we had to go on vacation, after all!), I showed up again to sign the papers. The lovely young man was behind the counter again and was able to come up with almost everything that I needed to sign. But...
The first lady wasn't there, and she (for some incomprehensible reason) had other things that I had to sign that I couldn't do then. So I had to come back. Within a week.
Two days later, I went back. Angela and I had a nice chat while we were waiting for her to be available. I signed a few forms, life was good, and then she mentioned "bonifico" ("money order") in the context of my Ponte Rio account. Now, I happen to know that a bonifico costs money. Not much, admittedly, but it's the principle of the thing. I jibbed at this, and she said that the other option would take 4 days for the money to be available. Not being in a hurry, I acquiesced.
Then, she started thinking out loud. She finally decided that since it was set up as a checking account (although I've never had checks), the lovely young man behind the counter could create a check from the old account and deposit it into the new one, thereby providing me immediate access. So much the better! So I signed 3 more slips (don't ask), and voila! There we were. Do remember that this is from one branch of a bank to the other. I was not changing banks!
She cheerfully asked me to turn in my old debit card, at which point I equally cheerfully announced that I'd lost it somewhere about the house. She blanched. Time stopped. Well, then, I was going to have to sign a declaration of loss AND report it to the carabinieri (bear in mind, this is for a CLOSED account), and then they could "annulare" the card. I asked whether it wouldn't be better just to annulare the card right away. Tsk tsk, no, it's much better to have the paperwork from the carabinieri before annulare-ing the card.
Feeling slightly ridiculous, I left (50 minutes after entering the bank) with cash in hand and a requirement to visit the carabinieri to report a lost card to an account that no longer had any money in it and had been officially closed. Oh, and did I mention the 5 digit PIN?
All this, because they don't want to give money to people they don't know by mistake....
Love,
Alexandra
Wrong. The lovely young man behind the counter (who knows my name & account number off the top of his head) told me that they can't give you money if your account wasn't opened at that branch. You can use the ATM card in their machine, but no teller service. He told me it was because they'd had problems with impersonations. When I pointed out that he knew me by sight, he just sadly shook his head and tsked.
I have now closed the account that I had in the Ponte Rio branch and have reopened an account in the Piazza branch of the same bank. And that was an adventure, too!
So, hold onto your seats, and here we go:
I walked over to the lady who sits in a glass cage, much like in the U.S. (if you discount the brick barrel-vaulted ceiling dating to the 1400s). And here, the resemblance stopped short. She was with a friend, putting on her coat, and clearly preparing to leave the bank. When I told her what I needed, she looked simultaneously mildly abashed and conspiratorial, and asked if I was in a hurry. She knew and I knew that she was about to go to the bar next door to sit with her friend over a cup of coffee.
I suggested that she take a photocopy of my documents and then she could set up my account at her leisure. She knew all about what type of account I had already had down in the Ponte Rio branch, so all I'd have to do is come back later to sign the (many) documents required.
A week later (well, we had to go on vacation, after all!), I showed up again to sign the papers. The lovely young man was behind the counter again and was able to come up with almost everything that I needed to sign. But...
The first lady wasn't there, and she (for some incomprehensible reason) had other things that I had to sign that I couldn't do then. So I had to come back. Within a week.
Two days later, I went back. Angela and I had a nice chat while we were waiting for her to be available. I signed a few forms, life was good, and then she mentioned "bonifico" ("money order") in the context of my Ponte Rio account. Now, I happen to know that a bonifico costs money. Not much, admittedly, but it's the principle of the thing. I jibbed at this, and she said that the other option would take 4 days for the money to be available. Not being in a hurry, I acquiesced.
Then, she started thinking out loud. She finally decided that since it was set up as a checking account (although I've never had checks), the lovely young man behind the counter could create a check from the old account and deposit it into the new one, thereby providing me immediate access. So much the better! So I signed 3 more slips (don't ask), and voila! There we were. Do remember that this is from one branch of a bank to the other. I was not changing banks!
She cheerfully asked me to turn in my old debit card, at which point I equally cheerfully announced that I'd lost it somewhere about the house. She blanched. Time stopped. Well, then, I was going to have to sign a declaration of loss AND report it to the carabinieri (bear in mind, this is for a CLOSED account), and then they could "annulare" the card. I asked whether it wouldn't be better just to annulare the card right away. Tsk tsk, no, it's much better to have the paperwork from the carabinieri before annulare-ing the card.
Feeling slightly ridiculous, I left (50 minutes after entering the bank) with cash in hand and a requirement to visit the carabinieri to report a lost card to an account that no longer had any money in it and had been officially closed. Oh, and did I mention the 5 digit PIN?
All this, because they don't want to give money to people they don't know by mistake....
Love,
Alexandra
Just asking...
How many people get to move to Italy like this?
I have the best parents EVER!
ciao,
Florence
Ps. Ten more days of school!
I have the best parents EVER!
ciao,
Florence
Ps. Ten more days of school!
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Crazy Weather
Today, at the end of May, it is chilly and wetItaly. Here in Todi you really want a jacket if you go out. Further north it has snowed. It should be very warm and sunny, and the Italians are very confused about where things went wrong. According to at least one climatologist one has to go back two centuries to find weather this cold this late.
At the moment we are having a cold thunderstorm. The white stuff piled in the courtyard is hail.
The pink scooter is Eleanor's.
Michael
At the moment we are having a cold thunderstorm. The white stuff piled in the courtyard is hail.
The pink scooter is Eleanor's.
Michael
Friday, May 24, 2013
The Jazz Ballerina
Tonight we had the chance to go to a jazz concert at the Teatro Municipale. It was provided by a clarinetist and pianist, and was truly excellent. Provided you closed your eyes.
However, upon opening them, you saw... the jazz ballerina. The clarinetist was acrobatic, to say the least. I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, but it was a cross between personal training, complete with lunges and squats, ballet (think pirouettes), and what Angela called Zeimbekiko -- a drunken Greek dance. We were waiting for him to misstep and trip on himself the entire time. At first it was distracting. And then it was flat out hilarious. Meanwhile, the pianist was entirely unflappable.
Well worth the price of admission.
Love,
Alexandra
However, upon opening them, you saw... the jazz ballerina. The clarinetist was acrobatic, to say the least. I'm not sure exactly how to describe it, but it was a cross between personal training, complete with lunges and squats, ballet (think pirouettes), and what Angela called Zeimbekiko -- a drunken Greek dance. We were waiting for him to misstep and trip on himself the entire time. At first it was distracting. And then it was flat out hilarious. Meanwhile, the pianist was entirely unflappable.
Well worth the price of admission.
Love,
Alexandra
Monday, May 20, 2013
Lunch on the Adriatic
One of the beautiful things about our long trip by car was how the landscape, architecture, city structure, agriculture, and weather changed every time we crossed a political border. In the United States many political borders are arbitrary, for example at a certain line of latitude. Here they reflect ancient cultural boundaries or physical obstacles like mountain ranges.
My last post showed the family under cool overcast skies in central Slovenia. Four hours later we had a slightly late lunch in the Italian resort town of Lignano, on the Adriatic between Trieste and Venice. The contrast could hardly have been stronger.
Lignano was bright and sunny and called for shorts rather than jackets. It is a quite recent town, at least the resort part of it, and was crowded with bikers enjoying a sunny Sunday.
I took a few shots of the beach and sea. It is funny that the beach is one of the few places where the Italians seem to take orderliness in stride. The beaches are mostly private and you rent one of those spots you see in neat rows.
Michael
My last post showed the family under cool overcast skies in central Slovenia. Four hours later we had a slightly late lunch in the Italian resort town of Lignano, on the Adriatic between Trieste and Venice. The contrast could hardly have been stronger.
Lignano was bright and sunny and called for shorts rather than jackets. It is a quite recent town, at least the resort part of it, and was crowded with bikers enjoying a sunny Sunday.
I took a few shots of the beach and sea. It is funny that the beach is one of the few places where the Italians seem to take orderliness in stride. The beaches are mostly private and you rent one of those spots you see in neat rows.
Michael
24 hours after leaving the frog weather behind we found ourselves in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. It has a beautiful old town center that made it through the communist era in remarkably good shape. Since then the city has clearly invested in itself. We saw a lot of new cobblestone roads going down in the pedestrian town center.
Here is the family in front if the Triple Bridge.
Here are some views and architecture near the Triple Bridge.
Some people you may know on the Butcher's Bridge:
Jeremy and Alexandra in front of one of the dragons of the Dragon Bridge:
My pictures don't do the city justice. We certainly wanted to explore for a weekend rather than a couple of hours. If you are ever in the area I highly recommend that you go see Ljubljana in person. The downtown pedestrian area on the riverfront is beautiful even on an overcast day.
Michael
Here is the family in front if the Triple Bridge.
Here are some views and architecture near the Triple Bridge.
Some people you may know on the Butcher's Bridge:
Jeremy and Alexandra in front of one of the dragons of the Dragon Bridge:
My pictures don't do the city justice. We certainly wanted to explore for a weekend rather than a couple of hours. If you are ever in the area I highly recommend that you go see Ljubljana in person. The downtown pedestrian area on the riverfront is beautiful even on an overcast day.
Michael
Location:Ljubljana
Beware of the What?
As we left Schwangau two weeks ago we encountered this sign:
Let's see that again...
No doubt about it. That is a frog.
Then, around the next bend we started seeing short green mesh fences:
Yes, the frogs are such a hazard that they erected fences to keep them off the road. Who knew?
And yes, we had frog weather the entire time we were in Germany.
Michael
Let's see that again...
No doubt about it. That is a frog.
Then, around the next bend we started seeing short green mesh fences:
Yes, the frogs are such a hazard that they erected fences to keep them off the road. Who knew?
And yes, we had frog weather the entire time we were in Germany.
Michael
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Origami
Recently I have become fond of making origami. I found an amazing website, for those who are interested, it is www.origami-instructions.com. I particularly enjoy making itty-bitty origami. Here are some pictures of the origami I have made. Sorry about the crummy quality of the photos.
Ciao for now,
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| Although you can't see very well, there is a little heart, and it opens out into a box |
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| This is flat, but then is becomes a box.... then it is flat again. I use one like it to store pencil shavings during class. |
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| This is what happens when sisters fall asleep on my lap when I'm trying to make origami. This is my smallest creation yet. |
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| This would be an eight pointed vase if you could see it. |
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| Those are coconut m&ms that we have thanks to Grandpa Jim, Grandma, and Granddad |
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| This is the same box as the one with the m&ms in it, but I coloured it |
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| You can't really see it, but I drew a little green bow on my box |
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| This is before colouring. The box is about 1" X 1" X 3/4" |
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| This is a really bad picture of a vase |
Florence
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Morning in Alto Adige
We arrived at the agriturismo (a type of Italian farmhouse inn set up for vacation stays) La Pieve last night after dark. These were the views from our bedroom window when we woke up this morning.
That view is a little different from the ones in Atlanta.
Breakfast was downstairs.
Michael
That view is a little different from the ones in Atlanta.
Breakfast was downstairs.
Michael
At the Autogrill
Today (Wednesday) was Day 1 of our road trip through northern Italy, Austria, southern Germany, and Slovenia.
It was mostly a car day because we didn't get out if Todi until 11:30. We did manage a long lunch in Abrezzo, but someone else will have to post photos from there because I didn't think to pull my iPad out of the car.
I did think about it when we stopped at an Autogrill, though. An Autogrill is a combined gas station, rest area, restaurant, and convenience store that is situated on toll highways so you don't have to exit and pay a toll. They are remarkably nice facilities.
For example, here is a selection of local cured meats available at this one:
You will not find that at your local highway gas station. On the other hand, they didn't have boiled peanuts.
Here Mom and Alexandra are finding a wine:
The boys were already back in the Ducato. Jeremy is smiling like that because he had just managed to pour a bunch of water into his seat.
Eleanor and Ashley were snacking, and decided that a less serious pose was better. That is Dad bemused in the background.
Florence? She didn't want to be photographed just then. Better luck next time.
Michael
It was mostly a car day because we didn't get out if Todi until 11:30. We did manage a long lunch in Abrezzo, but someone else will have to post photos from there because I didn't think to pull my iPad out of the car.
I did think about it when we stopped at an Autogrill, though. An Autogrill is a combined gas station, rest area, restaurant, and convenience store that is situated on toll highways so you don't have to exit and pay a toll. They are remarkably nice facilities.
For example, here is a selection of local cured meats available at this one:
You will not find that at your local highway gas station. On the other hand, they didn't have boiled peanuts.
Here Mom and Alexandra are finding a wine:
The boys were already back in the Ducato. Jeremy is smiling like that because he had just managed to pour a bunch of water into his seat.
Eleanor and Ashley were snacking, and decided that a less serious pose was better. That is Dad bemused in the background.
Florence? She didn't want to be photographed just then. Better luck next time.
Michael
Sunday, May 5, 2013
The Royal Baths
Bagnoregio is a suburb of Civita -- a city near Todi that's documented as early as the 600s, and was probably in existence well before then. The name of the town derives from the thermal springs located there (although I haven't been able to figure out if one can visit the springs now...), which (one guesses) were visited by royalty?
Bagnoregio aside (although it's darling), our main goal was Civita. However, Civita is -- to say the least -- not reachable by car. In fact, it is largely a ghost town, as a result of major earthquake in the late 1600s -- the population varies from 12 in the winter to around 100 in the summer.
Given its fragility, you have to park in Bagnoregio and then walk to the ancient town via a bridge which handily looks flat in the photos (suckering you into going) and then turns out to be a nice steep walk. It's a good thing we've been getting our workouts in Todi! The remarkable thing about this town is its position -- apparently floating in midair. It's on a pedestal of very friable rock, high above the surrounding valley. Based on photos, it's particularly amazing on those misty days, when it looks as though it's on an island.
Jim & Sharon and I actually had set off for Orvieto, to go to the gelato festival. In the car, though, I recalled that this place had been described to me as very photogenic. Jim likes taking photos. I'd never been. Sounds like a good outing, no? We changed tracks, and made it to Bagnoregio without incident.
I've been to a number of small towns in the area, and many of them have limited to no parking in the town itself. Combine this with a "shuttle stop" for Civita, and you will readily understand that I parked in the first available spot -- doing a tidy job with my parallel parking, I must say.
Turned out to have been a bad call in this case -- well, at least somewhat. We ended up having a lovely walk through town, but it added about 2 1/2 miles to our walk, which would not have been a cakewalk in any case. However, we eventually made it to the sign (in a parking lot) for "Staircase to Civita" -- and were caught up short by the view of this town. Quite magnificent. Wow.
On the way, we got to examine a grotto favored by St. Bonaventure, who was born in Civita in 1217 or thereabouts. Down the stairs, down the hill (we'd come up a hill to get to this point), to the bridge (I'm thinking Bears in the Night, for those of you who have kids & can relate to children's literature), down the bridge, up the bridge, through the arch, and...tada! We were there! And boy were we ready for some lunch!
We had a delightful lunch outside, then wandered around the town. Charming!
Back home via Orvieto, the sunroof open, the wind in our hair, and a gelato (lemon!) in our future.
Love,
Alexandra
Bagnoregio aside (although it's darling), our main goal was Civita. However, Civita is -- to say the least -- not reachable by car. In fact, it is largely a ghost town, as a result of major earthquake in the late 1600s -- the population varies from 12 in the winter to around 100 in the summer.
Given its fragility, you have to park in Bagnoregio and then walk to the ancient town via a bridge which handily looks flat in the photos (suckering you into going) and then turns out to be a nice steep walk. It's a good thing we've been getting our workouts in Todi! The remarkable thing about this town is its position -- apparently floating in midair. It's on a pedestal of very friable rock, high above the surrounding valley. Based on photos, it's particularly amazing on those misty days, when it looks as though it's on an island.
Jim & Sharon and I actually had set off for Orvieto, to go to the gelato festival. In the car, though, I recalled that this place had been described to me as very photogenic. Jim likes taking photos. I'd never been. Sounds like a good outing, no? We changed tracks, and made it to Bagnoregio without incident.
I've been to a number of small towns in the area, and many of them have limited to no parking in the town itself. Combine this with a "shuttle stop" for Civita, and you will readily understand that I parked in the first available spot -- doing a tidy job with my parallel parking, I must say.
Turned out to have been a bad call in this case -- well, at least somewhat. We ended up having a lovely walk through town, but it added about 2 1/2 miles to our walk, which would not have been a cakewalk in any case. However, we eventually made it to the sign (in a parking lot) for "Staircase to Civita" -- and were caught up short by the view of this town. Quite magnificent. Wow.
On the way, we got to examine a grotto favored by St. Bonaventure, who was born in Civita in 1217 or thereabouts. Down the stairs, down the hill (we'd come up a hill to get to this point), to the bridge (I'm thinking Bears in the Night, for those of you who have kids & can relate to children's literature), down the bridge, up the bridge, through the arch, and...tada! We were there! And boy were we ready for some lunch!
We had a delightful lunch outside, then wandered around the town. Charming!
Back home via Orvieto, the sunroof open, the wind in our hair, and a gelato (lemon!) in our future.
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| Our first glimpse |
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| The landscape was really more like a moonscape. |
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| St. Bonaventure's cave |
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| Irises growing wild |
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| Eeyore! |
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| Still a way off! |
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| These trees grow wild...some type of locust? |
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| View from the carpark just next to the bridge |
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| Yes, it IS going up! |
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| Hi, cuties! |
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| The cliffs are riddled with caves (read: holes!) |
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| A cave dating to Etruscan times |
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| The main piazza |
Love,
Alexandra
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