All My Sunsets

Posted on July 17, 2018 by liguriansun

Ciao a tutti! Live from my terrace in Imperia, Italy — located in the Imperia Province, in the Italian Riviera, an hour and change each from Nice and Genoa. This is a rare live post because while I document my life all day via social media, I haven’t taken the time to post — with writing feeling like a luxury with the never-ending checklist of items I have on my mind during the school year. In the summer, though, I feel so inspired, my mind relaxed and free. And this vacation is super special. It’s 5 weeks! Since I moved home from Italy, I went for a month for the summers of 2014, 15, 16, and 17. They were each epic in their own way. But I must say, this location is superb, the price can’t be beat, and I’m really letting myself relax — taking days to be super lazy while I can. I also rented the scooter for the entire 4 weeks I am here — purely out of necessity because it’s an hour hike up the mountain from the sea . . . then I will bop around a bit before home.

This is my 12th day here. I’ve popped around a bit on this trip, had a ton of relaxation, and my father arrived from Cologne yesterday. He has a hotel down at the sea, allowing this sweet space to reflect at the end of the day. My days and sunsets have blended together beautifully into a ritual of calm. I take a long, lazy start. I see which cats have come to greet me. Eventually, I hop onto my scooter for an errand down the mountain, take a swim / workout, and eventually make it back up just before or during the long, lingering sunset. I adore both the sea and the mountains, so when they combine like this plus the charming Western Riviera culture, I’m smitten. Mickey Mantle wrote a book All My Octobers. Mine will be All My Sunsets.

I keep vowing to update this frequently, but for the summer I will make it a habit and not censor myself. I always remind myself the blog must be written fresh — it can be edited and polished into something beautiful later, but these are the thoughts I’ll refer to when I write something more. And hopefully that habit will continue as I recognize it’s not a luxury; I love to write and should write. But as I usually do when there’s a long lag, here’s what I’ve been up to since January 2017.

For MLK weekend 2017, I flew out to visit my hilarious high school friend Ellen in Malibu, then we road-tripped to Solvang (European style wine country place as featured in Sideways) where I met up with my great friend Jessica who road tripped from Bishop to join us. I met Jessica teaching in Italy. She went off to Germany for two years as I returned home and was living home in California a bit after an epic few months backpacking and volunteering in Southeast Asia. It was so fun to make these connections, then back to NYC and enjoying dates around the city, tubing up at Hunter Mountain, then February break! Up to NH for our annual ski weekend retreat with Fordham friends, then straight to Switzerland, where I had an amazing flight for $500 and a room for $100 a night right in the mountain of Wengen, a perfect ski base.

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I enjoyed sunny breakfasts overlooking the Lauterbrunnen Valley – probably my most favorite place in the world – and I’ve written about it several times here with Mom and here with Brendan . I pushed my limits skiing on the difficult slopes, relaxed in the spas, gazed at the stars, and flew back to NYC via Spain revitalized.

It wasn’t long before it was Spring Break! I found yet another amazing airfare deal just over $400 into Milan via a long layover in Lisbon and home from Naples. I got a day rate in Lisbon for my shower and nap, then strolled around the harbor in sunny delight and even more delighted by the quality of the food. Then that evening I was in an airport hotel by Milan Malpensa. The next morning I took the three hour bus ride straight to Genova (much easier than schlepping on an airport bus or train to Milano Centrale then the train to Genova). I had an amazing Airbnb overlooking the sea in my old neighborhood in Genova Quarto.

I met for drinks and gelato with friends, visited old students and my old director at the international school

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Many aperitivi in this spot of Genova Quarto

and eventually took a night train — fun!– to Puglila. That’s way down in the heel of the boot. I know I wanted to go by Bari but didn’t know much about the region. I had just seen a Conde Nast Traveler photo of the restaurant in the grotto,

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and then when I was searching for towns, I saw Polignano a Mare and that same photo popped up. I knew I would stay there, and found an affordable and adorable room right by the sea. I had charming breakfasts in the square, lazy days sunbathing, running and wandering, and enjoyed a special Easter Eve mass where they gave us holy water to bring to our homes. The next day, I hopped on a train to visit my friend Joseph in Lecce, way down in the heel of the boot. I met Joseph during one of my many visits to Bruges in 2010, and we have stayed friends ever since. I wrote about my visit to see him in Ferrara back in 2013. Too soon, I hopped on a train to Naples where I spent the night in a castle with views over the bay, and drifted off into sweet travel dreams on my own two story section of the castle.

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This is actually a sunrise

Image may contain: ocean, sky, outdoor, nature and water Amazing. I flew home the next day and was back in Europe three months later for my annual summer extravaganza.

I had a shocking and complicated breakup — but I don’t really discuss dating on this blog — this is pure travel adventure, so only as it relates. But I was so wrecked, I didn’t even want to go on this trip last year. But I went anyway because, I mean, it was booked. I could always come home. The same advice he gave to me when I was going through a horrible time and didn’t know if I could go on a month long Australian adventure. Of course I went and it was amazing. I arrived in a decent sized apartment in the city center of Genova for only 900 euros. It had very good AC and a little terrace with no real view but hey – outside! I holed myself up during the day, watching Netflix, ventured out to some beaches, meditated on the balcony, lingering over my coffee and wandering for sunsets.

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I spontaneously bought a floor ticket for U2 in Rome. There were track fires, so I missed half the show, my hair covered in ash . . . but it was amazing, and healing. “One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain. Hit me with music.”-Bob Marley. I tried to get back to Genoa, but track fires blocked the way. I had just finished a travel writing book written by a woman who moved to Spello, Umbria with her husband and three kids — one year of expat life. She put them in the local school! Amazing! Il Bel Centro. I was so enchanted by her writing (set during the second year of my Italy stay) , and had to see Spello. I looked at the train departures, and saw one leaving, bought a ticket, got a 40 euro place on booking.com, and had an enchanting evening strolling around the hill town. Magic.

Image may contain: sky, cloud, twilight and outdoor Already feeling more like myself, I visited a high school friend in London where she toted me to a swanky Innovation event. I didn’t even know that was a field. They love to hire teachers. Something to consider for the future. We had great laughs and long late night chats. Brunch in her neighborhood, then a train to Ipswitch for Jessica’s wedding celebration. Jessica was the friend I just met up with in California. On that trip, she told me she was engaged. They actually got married in Vegas when I was off to Italy — but flights to Vegas were so expensive that week – it was cheaper to go to Italy, and Jessica said she figured I would be at the UK celebration anyway! 🙂 A charming BBQ in her husband’s parents’ backyard, meeting friends and family, then off to the Fake Festival — amazing coverbands including for Queen an Oasis. High tea the next day, then off to Belgium for a few nights to visit Jasper (I didn’t see Dave this year). I love wandering the streets long enough to feel hungry again for my next Belgian treat: beer, bitterballen, cheese croquetts, waffles, chocolate, frites.

Then from Belgium to Milan where I met up with my Dad. We took a tour of the city that included the Last Supper, which I’ve always wanted to see. We also went to the top of the Duomo. I love the Duomo as I wrote here when I first saw it! Before long, we were on a train to Genoa, and Dad stayed with me a bit. (We don’t see Mom in my summer adventures because she prefers to stay local in the heat). Dad and I enjoyed day trips to the beach and lots of lazy time. Then it was off to Constance, one of our favorite places. We enjoyed spa time, a cruise to an island with Botanical Gardens, and then he was off and I was back in Genoa. A few more beach days, a bus trip down to Florence to meet up with a Fordham friend. It was 104, so we ducked into his hotel for cocktails and the most amazing water! Then we dashed back out to buy leather jackets and then I was on the Flix Bus back home for a few more lazy, lounging days. I arrived back home just in time for my birthday, celebrating with high school friends in my parents’ backyard just before dashing off to Lake Placid for 4 nights with Mom the next day.

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Mom won’t do Europe in the summer but she loves the cool mountain air and easy travel to a favorite region. I paddle boarded and kayaked, strolled and laughed with mom. It’s amazing how healing travel can be — the same healing does not happen if you just have time off. It’s what you do with it, and the experiences and insight you have when you’re thrown out of your normal zone. At least for me . . .

Back to school in the fall, and a 4 day weekend meant a trip to see a high school friend Kate — Ellen’s sister. Ellen flew in from LA, so we all met there for a fab girl’s time, going to yoga, swimming holes, yoga, and then off on a long desert road trip to see the Marfa lights.

I had never heard about Marfa before, but after we booked, I listened to this favorite song and heard it right away “saw the lights of Marfa . . .”

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Soon after, I went to a yoga retreat up in Hunter Mountain, maintaining my peace and trying not to linger too much on the time spent tubing with him.

Image may contain: sky, cloud, mountain, twilight, outdoor and nature The rest of the year featured two outpatient surgeries, a 6 week virus that left me sick and weak and eventually in need of antibiotics which I had not had since 2010 because they are actually quite toxic for me.

2018 –I took a long weekend to Stockholm, Sweden mesmerized by the 6 hours of daylight, froze on a boat tour of the archipelago, and wandered the Medieval Center still decked out in the remnants of Christmas. Before flying Norwegian Air back home (amazing planes, amazing air quality, amazing deal), I indulged in a massage in a classic spa. Ahh!

There was still the February ski weekend in NH, although I had to take it very easy. I got sick and gained weight from the antibiotics, despite upping my workouts, eating even better, and doing careful detox programs. I was frustrated but it was time for a trip Ireland with mom. This one was epic . Over Easter, we started just north of Dublin in Donabate, with a sea view room.

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running along the cliffs in Donabate

My frisbee friend from Fordham messaged me when he saw I was in Ireland, and I drove in to meet him for drinks that first night. The next day we went to Easter mass then drove down to Cork. It was unseasonable cold and horribly rainy — not the gentle Irish rain. No, the shower rain. We were happy anyway, stopping off at a Cathedral along the way. I made sure to run every day in Ireland, determined to get back in shape for my 5K races coming up at the end of the month. When we made our way to Killarney, the highlight was a Dingle Peninsula tour where we stopped to HOLD BABY LAMBS!

I’m obsessed with sheep, so this was a dream come true. The car broke down another day, and that led to a series of adventures but we ended the trip in Malahide on my mother’s birthday. I arranged for our friend Mary Bridget to surprise my mother at the restaurant. We met Mary Bridget at a hotel in Lake Como Italy, and we have been great friends ever since. I wrote about her here:

Image may contain: ocean and indoor I returned from Ireland, and continued running almost every day — yet I didn’t stretch after a 5K, and did Irish dance on that tight hip and then tried running on it a day later. My knee gave out massively, and I had to get an MRI. I tore my meniscus in two spots, damage to the patella cartilage and several other injuries. The doctor thought I might need surgery, and I imagined this summer adventure in a straight leg brace — how could I ride the scooter with that? While I limped around work, I fretted over my summer and couldn’t imagine walking and running again. I got the news that I wouldn’t need surgery, and on May 26, the doctor said, you should be feeling 90% in 4 weeks, and when you feel 90% you can try running.

By June 26, I didn’t feel as much pain anymore, and by the beginning of July I was able to get more aggressive again for my workouts. I actually discovered Barre which has been really intense while also being therapeutic. I am now able to run for trains and jog through airports and other required travel running. I hiked up to my airbnb from the sea, and with the fresh air, fresher food, and lifestyle I am feeling like myself again finally.

In addition to swimming and scooting around, I watched several world cup games over Aperol Spritz, and England vs Croatia when I popped over to Kent to see Jessica and her husband with their new baby boy! Zia Kristin was so excited to meet him! I returned home and got a swanky haircut in Monaco after several expensive salons butchered my hair – I like classic not trendy, Kate Middleton – not Vogue. I had a bit of adventure getting back, watched France win the world cup, beaches, naps, writing, reading, Italian netflix, and Dad came to visit straight from Germany. We drove to Alassio today for a glorious beach day and now I am updated on the blog, recharged in spirit, and excited for the new adventures yet to be written.

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These trips aren’t just luxuries; they are necessary healing retreats where I can be me. The only thing that makes me sad is trying “hold on to these moments as they pass.”

I may be thinking of them in a Long December, but there will be more travel magic ahead.

Sweet Valencia, Spring Break 2014 part 4

Posted on November 14, 2015 by liguriansun

For the other Spring Break 2014 posts, please visit:

Semana Santa in Espana: Spring Break 2014 Part 1

Malaga with a Side of Morocco: Spring Break 2014 Part 2

More Malagahhhh: Spring Break 2014 Part 3

I didn’t know much about Valencia or even where it was exactly. Then a few months before my trip, a friend had traveled around Spain and said “Valencia is one of my favorite places!” She loved the beach, the vibe, and the amazing architecture of the Science Center which was a surprising highlight I just “have to visit.”

Valencia flies under the radar, and perhaps I wouldn’t necessarily have thought to hit it on my first visit to Spain. But this was my fourth visit, and I had freedom to explore more. As I’ve mentioned many times in past posts, sometimes those lesser visited places yield the greatest travel joys.

When I realized I had this entire break to myself, free to go wherever and whenever I wanted, I played with itineraries, peeked at flights, and decided to fly back to Italy from Valencia at the end of my journey. I had wanted to visit Grenada after hearing so many wonderful things, but you can’t do everything and as my grandmother always used to tell me “leave something to come back for.”

I awoke that final morning in Malaga for one last breakfast and took a cab to the bus station where I took a bus to Valencia. Yeah, they had trains that would get me there much more swiftly and comfortably, yet to my cranky surprise, they booked up before I looked the day before. I didn’t realize all the seats could sell out, leaving me with about 9 hours of a bus ride. I considered bla bla car or a rental car but one was a bit inconvenient as I hate small talk and didn’t want to be “on” for the journey, and the other was a bit too expensive. I was not thrilled for such a long journey, knowing restless legs and possible motion sickness and stale air awaited me, but I do like napping in coach seats which are a bit cozier than trains. . . sometimes. And sometimes you can see better sights rolling by the window from a highway than from tracks. So, having chosen my option, I was optimistic and excited to move on.

After turning inland from the coast and exploring rolling green hills, we ended up in Grenada for a layover. I was hoping to see something, but it wasn’t long enough and there was nothing within walking distance of the bus terminal, so my wishes to experience and immerse myself in the beauty of this Andalusian charm will have to wait for a future visit.

En route, we were treated to an endless display of eye candy that changed from hills and flowers to rugged red rocks and desert land.

Some of the eye candy during the long journey

We had an extra long stop when they had to search the entire bus, holding us up even longer. I thought they were looking for drugs, but my father later said that it was probably something a bit more severe. As I tweeted at the time, “That canine drug search really helped break up the 11 hour bus ride today.” I would have actually really enjoyed the journey if it didn’t delay us so much.

By the end, I was antsy and tired in that too exhausted to even rest way, but once we rolled into Valencia the weather was balmy and the discount hotel was inviting, right on the beach promenade. I plopped onto the bed, opened the window and shutters, and listened to the sounds of the sea and the chatter of a lively neighborhood at night. Eventually, I found the energy to peel myself up and go for an evening run followed by a wandering stroll, one of my favorite things to do when traveling.

The next morning, I took a lazy start, followed by my continental breakfast where I watched Pharrell’s “Happy” video, hearing it for the very first time. I sure was.

To this day, I still think of my sunny, peaceful Valencia sojourn whenever I hear it, which is often on repeat on my iphone while I’m doing a quick 10 minutes of burpees or while running around my neighborhood.

During my morning stroll, surrounded by happy, friendly people, I kept thinking of the amazing time I had on this vacation. I tweeted:

Spain got it right! Free & well-maintained beaches; great food and wine; gorgeous scenery; progressive, multicultural vibe; and wonderful people!

I admired the white sandy stretch of beach, framed with low hills in the distance and edged with a smooth stone promenade. This had a Euro-Cali vibe, and I could have stayed forever. I began to dream and scheme of living here one day, where the prices were much cheaper than Genoa and most of Europe, and the quality of life was rich and beautiful yet simple.

A “Happy” Beach Day

I was listening to my 120gig ipod classic on shuffle and hit a Chicago song that I loved.

The refrain repeating in my head as I walked . . . “feeling stronger every day.” Absolutely. I’ve overcome a lot during my transition abroad, I have a lot ahead of me as I prepare for my return home, but I’m going to be just great.

My father had gifted me the Chicago albums years ago, but I never explored them much. This was a perfect calling to indulge. I kept walking through the soft sand for a couple of hours under the sun, a warm breeze, palm trees, happy people, happy me.

As I listened, I definitely remember loving this song, which was was featured in the Mad Men season premiere at the beginning of the month, which I had watched just before my departure.

Feeling groovy, I stopped for lunch along the beach. I don’t remember what I ate, but I remember what I saw: blue sky, blue seas, smiling faces, and a sand sculpture of The Last Supper.

I indulged in a relaxing massage on the beach after a swim, then closed my eyes for a bit of warm bliss, summer on the horizon. Later that day, I darted over to the Science Center, and even though I was told it was amazing, I was not prepared for how stunning the architecture was, especially under the bold, cobalt sky.

Some of the eye candy during the long journey

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After admiring the outside for a half hour or so, I toured some of the hands-on exhibits inside, which were not just for kids. How high can I jump? What is my memory? How are eco friendly buildings constructed? How do things work? So much to see and experience.

Instead of taking public transportation back, I decided to walk along the river promenade, which eventually led me to an Andalusian festival, funny because I had just departed that region of Flamenco.

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I explored that inland neighborhood of Valencia, grabbed a burger and beer al fresco, hopped on the tram and arrived back at my hotel late that evening to cozily tuck myself into bed. The next morning, I was on a plane back to Milan for the end of one of my favorite vacations ever. There was a time when I was intimidated or restless traveling alone, but now it has become one of my most favorite ways to go. It was like a week of meditation, indulgence and self love. I was refreshed and ready for whatever came next in this time of uncertainty and change.

I posted the following successive tweets:

Few people can say they truly follow their dreams. I did, and I keep dreaming and scheming.

I love traveling with myself because I philosophize uninterrupted and I’m good company, always doing fun things at my own pace.

With that said, it’s only good as a break from the norm. Thoreau built that cabin in the woods yet regularly walked into town for society.

An alpine peak is amazing alone, yet even a hilly meadow is sublime in the right company.

Later that evening after traveling from Milan, I entered my apartment and saw my cozy bed. I opened the French doors to the terrace and I tweeted “After all the beautiful places, I still find Genoa gorgeous and am happy to call her home for a few more months.”

More Malagahhhh: Spring Break 2014 part 3

Posted on December 14, 2014 by liguriansun

On my third day in Malaga, I finally got to enjoy the breakfast spread. I awoke to sunshine over the sea, then went down by the pool area to a room filled with fruits, breads, cereal, and all the fixings for a wonderful desayuno. Stuffed and happy, I crossed the road straight to the beach, empty and seemingly all for me. I removed my new leather sandals from Morocco to feel the sand beneath my toes, “the beach gives me a feeling an earthy feeling and I believe in the faith that grows.”

Genoa has a stunning coastline. Part of the trade off with rocky cliff meets sea, however, is the lack of beach. I got used to sunbathing on the rocks, although what a delightful treat it was to sprawl on a towel as the soft sand conformed to my curves. Malaga had a bit of a Cali vibe, with rolling hills, tall hotels, sandy beaches, and a pretty coastline. . . not as dramatic as Liguria, but definitely pleasant.

With a permanent grin, I posted the following collage before wading in for a relaxing swim.

After the beach, I showered and changed for a stroll downtown in search of lunch. I passed the leafy promenade my colleague Peter described as a “jungle right there in the city.” It was his favorite part of Malaga, and I can see why. Taking a break by a harbor, I saw for sale signs and wondered if maybe my parents would one day purchase a modest apartment here, as it was always their retirement dream to buy something in Europe. After strolling and admiring the view of the castle perched on the hill, I was back in the city center and saw a Taco Bell; I just had to go in. (In previous posts I mentioned how expats break all kinds of tourist rules). I hadn’t had Taco Bell since Spring 2012, and this was just delightful — they had fajitas! After a delicious lunch snack, which I refuse to be shamed for, I made my way back to the hotel, buying a bottle of wine at a local shop on the way. I didn’t have a bottle opener, so friendly and talkative owner gave me one after suggesting a 5 euro local red which i tried immediately.

That evening, I ran east along the coast, enjoying the neighborhoods that popped up along the way as well as the many runners. I took this photo on my balcony during sunset just before departing. You can see the bottle of wine!

I paused a few times during the run for yoga and to just enjoy, to just be. This is happiness.

I walked back to the city for dinner and returned home for more of my delicious wine. Malaga just makes me feel so good. Tomorrow — off to Valencia.

Malaga with a side of Morocco: Spring Break 2014 part 2

Posted on November 19, 2014 by liguriansun

As I was on my spring break–my break, my way–I took an unhurried departure to Malaga. Not that I didn’t want to get there and the gorgeous beaches, but I just wanted to relax and not dash about on a schedule as we all have to do in our every day lives. Plus, with months of whirlwind weekends, I was always rushing. It wouldn’t be a vacation if I couldn’t chillax.

After a lingering breakfast and a last call stroll, I grabbed a high speed train to Malaga which would save time, even though it was a lot more money. When I got to the train station, I was surprised by a line along the platform. They were scanning all the bags right there, including carry ons. Eventually, I made it on and was impressed by how clean and spacious second class was. I had a forward facing single window seat, and gazed at the rolling hills of Andalucia as they sped by.

If my life is the Truman show, there is a lot of footage of me riding on trains. All my years of travel have culminated in this intense climax. So many of my hours these past two years have been spent gazing out train windows, watching the scenery shift as my mind would do the same. There is something so therapeutic and transformative about travel. In fact, when I thought I was going to get my PhD, I played around with the idea of a thesis related to travel writing and this very concept. Part of this value, I think, is the idea of being in transit. My friend Denis studied abroad for a year in Cambridge, and he fondly recalls the long train journeys as his favorite part of touring the continent. “You’re in between, neither here nor there, and it’s total freedom.” It’s true. Nobody to answer to. No schedule. Nothing to do but just relax, listen to music, read– truly your time.

I was almost a little disappointed when I arrived after a short train ride because the journey was over for today. I was also disappointed because it was raining. On my spring break in sunny Spain. Yet, I know that expectations breed disappointment. And, hey, a rainy vacation in Spain is still a vacation in Spain!

I found my way to the bus stop and planned to snag a bus close to the hotel. But since it was pouring rain and a bit chilly, I thought I’d take advantage of affordable cab prices and treat myself. Soon I was in my room on the top floor of the hotel with a balcony overlooking the beach. I think this was about 70 euros a night. I love Spain!

I posted this photo while enjoying the view and anticipating sunshine.

Greetings from my balcony in Malaga! Looking forward to sunshine the next two days.

Eager to explore, I dropped my bags off and took a walk around the quaint neighborhood to get my bearings. On my way back, the sun came out and I saw a rainbow right over my hotel! Joy.

On the way back into the hotel, I asked the concierge about booking a trip to Morocco. I have never been to Africa, and I learned from Rick Steves that it would be so easy to travel to Morocco from this region. A day trip via ferry. How could I not go?

A lover of independent travel, I also like the convenience of a group tour, especially when it’s a whirlwind tour and to a place, a country . . . heck a continent I have never visited. After checking the weather forecast, I wanted to go tomorrow and they were able to book me at the last minute. I saw cheaper prices with Viator (40 euros or something), but I decided to go with the company recommended by the hotel. After they booked me, I found out it was the same company name. Yet, no worries. I was going to Morocco tomorrow!

I did yoga in my room via yogaglo.com, a sweet detox twisting flow which helped me get rid of even more of the pre-vacation tension. I twisted while watching the sky grow dark. I then took a stroll out for some snacks for tomorrow’s bus ride, and curled into bed.

The next day, I awoke at 5:30, and was most upset about missing the big breakfast spread. The company offered hotel pick ups on the route to Tarifa, the point just across from Tangier, although my hotel was along the coast in the other direction. So I hopped in a cab to the meeting point. I had read horror stories online about the meeting point– long waits and many difficulties finding the spot. But it looked like this was the only gig around, so if I wanted to go — I went with them. Plus, they had my money.

After carefully ensuring I knew where to go, I was at the spot as promised at 6:00am. It was dark. It was cold. Some other folks nearby were waiting for a bus. I wondered where they were going at this hour. I checked my watch. I kept checking my watch. A few minutes later, a man came up to me. “Are you going to Morocco?”
“Yes”

“They told us 5:30. We’ve been waiting 45 minutes. They are not coming.”

“Well, they told me 6. And it’s only a bit after that. They will come.”

“You give us hope! Thank you, you give us hope! We were about to leave!”

“If it makes you feel any better, I overpaid for the trip because I booked directly with the hotel.”

“We should make up the difference for you. Everyone chip in 5 euros.”

“No, no . . . ” I couldn’t stop laughing. And just like that, I had made new friends for my journey. Another reason I love group tours.

Finally, finally a bus pulled up and we hopped in. The driver and tour guide were very nice, just insanely late. We snoozed and rested while we watched the sunrise along the coast, the bus popping over to pick up folks along the Costa del Sol. Some folks complained about this online. But, this is how to keep the tour so cheap. ($105 US on Viator). No worries. Still a steal.

I sat near my new friends. One of them was a young lady, Genesis, fresh out of college teaching English in Madrid. An expat like myself, we bonded over the experience. She was traveling with her parents who were there to visit from Oregon. It’s fun to travel alone, but it’s also fun to share the adventure with someone, especially fun and sweet likeminded travelers.

After passing gorgeous rolling hills, soon we were in Tarifa, walking through border patrol and onto the ferry. I half snoozed and half dazed out the window sea as the high speed boat bobbed up and down towards the hills of Africa.

Moody seas

Glorious sunshine and my first glimpse of Africa

I tried not to get seasick, pinching the trigger point at the top of my ear cuff. This trick may have saved me from vomiting like nearly everyone around me back in 2012 while escorting a group of my NYC Public high school students to Capri. We were on an EF tour, and we were in Southern Italy, visiting the island for the day. The water was so choppy that all of us were seasick and the ride was unbearable. I closed my eyes, turned up the music to drown out the sounds, and sat near the window for fresh air and to dull the stench of vomit. This ferry ride was much smoother. However, my new travel friends definitely were feeling seasick and popped ginger.

I was so giddy with excitement. It’s been 9 years since my last new continent (Asia: Japan, March 2005). At this point in my travels, new countries are getting rare. And Africa always seemed so exotic, so far off. I’m not sure if I ever knew I’d go.

When the ferry docked, I kept thinking, I’m in Africa, I’m in Africa! I waited at the door as it lifted and I got my first glimpses of the sunshine, crowds and chaos of Tangier. Every step was a rush. My senses were overloaded as I tried to take it all in.

We walked onto a tour bus where an excellent and captivating guide explained the various neighborhoods as well as the history of modern, cosmopolitan Tangier as shown in this video I recorded:

I tried to imagine what it would be like to visit on my own, to stay over night and to really discover. What would the rest of Morocco be like? What about Fez? Or a trip through the Sahara on a camel.

In the middle of the bus tour, we stopped to ride camels near where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Mediterranean Sea. The location was pure beauty, bright turquoise water crashing against the jagged cliffs in the foreground, and sandy hills in the background. The caravan of camels were there waiting for us in this orchestrated tourist attraction.

Camels!

hi!

The setting for my camel ride

I felt bad because they were tied up by rope at the ankles. I hoped they had a good life. I hope they were treated well. I didn’t see any mistreatment while I was there, although I felt kind of guilty. But I was also really excited because I was going to ride a camel! And not even at the zoo.

I was the first one up! I walked straight up to it, and before I could hand my camera off to someone, the guy asked me to climb onto the hump of the seated creature. I thought I would fall off, and I almost did as he teetered rose to his full height while the guide led him in a giant circle around the parking lot. As I was the first up, many folks took photos and videos, so while I have no documentation, it lives on in someone’s album somewhere. I went up so fast that Genesis didn’t even see me ride. She later said, “I would have taken pictures.”

That’s ok. The moment lives in my mind. And it encouraged me to take camel selfies. He seemed to love it.

Camel Selfie

I had a lovely short journey with my new friend

I was so excited, pure adrenalinen rush of elation. I also realized how much I adore camels. They are so darned cute, and there’s just something about them. When I my ride ended and my camel was kneeling again, I slid off on a camel high. Then I met the baby.

Baby Camel!

On our whirlwind tour, minutes later, we were sipping hot green tea outside overlooking the coast. I was originally sitting alone, then Genesis and her parents invited me to sit with them and offered to take some pictures of me in front of the stunning background.

A collage of my Morocco experience

gorgeous setting for warm mint tea

We chatted and reflected on our awesome day so far, and then boarded the bus again.

We were toted to the Medina, with a brief photo op stop to watch a snake charmer tame a cobra followed by some opportunities to wear another non-poisonous snake. I just watched. We entered the Medina. In the old city center, we stayed close to our guide, like ducklings, as he wound through tiny alleys deliberately winding like a maze to help locals flee from intruders.

Entering the Medina

Our guide leading the way, a professor at a college in Tangier. Professors wear the collegial robes.

We had an excellent lunch of local dishes while local musicians played for us. Touristy? Absolutely. But a fun flavor of Morocco? Absolutely.

Emerging from lunch, we were bombarded with men trying to sell their wares, from necklaces to leather purses. If you looked or made a comment, they took it as an invitation to try their sell. This was not new during our time in Morocco. But this time . . . they had pictures of us, candid photos of us watching the snake show. Genesis’s father and I didn’t want to lose the group and didn’t have time to haggle the exorbitant prices down, but now reflecting, why didn’t I buy one of those cute, candid photos of Travel Kristin in Africa? I mean, I have spent $15 for a blurry photo on a rollercoaster. Why not a few euros for this unique shot?

I would have pasted it here. And it would make me smile.

After, we had the opportunity to browse a carpet shop. I was not buying a carpet. They threw many beautiful patterns on the floor, but how would I get that on Ryan Air? They hear that too much, so they kept offering “free shipping” but . . . I didn’t even know where I would be living next year, nevermind know where I’d put a beautiful Moroccan rug.

While waiting for others in the shop, I wandered to the first floor where I eyed a pair of red leather toe loop sandals and managed to talk 20 euros off the price. I don’t like to haggle, but I’m good at it because I don’t often feel like I MUST have anything. Ambivalence helps. I named my price and got it. Hmm. Maybe should have tried lower.

We headed out of the medina with a brief stop at the local oven for fresh-baked bread. Our guide handed the warm, delicious morsel as I savored each bite. In Morocco, families make their own bread and bake it in the local oven, picking it up later. Did we eat someone’s bread? Was it planned for us? In any case, delicious.

Soon we were on the ferry and Out of Africa. Did it really happen? So fast. Just a taste. I know that technically I was in Africa, in Morocco . . .but I can’t really count it until I truly explore it. But what a nice peek and treat.

* * *

The long ride along the Costa del Sol– little England / Ireland — allowed us to rest and reflect, high from the new experience. I continued chatting with Genesis and her lovely parents. When we exited the bus, they invited me out to dinner with them, where we sat along the cobblestone streets for a delicious al fresco meal. in enchanting ambiance

Malaga still decked out with red banners after their pasos for Semana Santa

I love Malaga

Genesis studied in Malaga one summer, improving her language. She shared stories of her time here, and we shared travel adventures and dreams as well as the longing of missing friends and family back home. I was grateful to have new friends to share the evening with. We hugged goodbye, added each other to facebook, then I strolled back to my hotel room for another sweet evening of yoga.

This post is getting long so more Malaga next time. 🙂

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2 Years Gone

Posted on June 21, 2014 by liguriansun

“Do not cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”-Dr. Seuss

Yesterday, I walked out of the building for the last time as a teacher. Saying goodbyes to colleagues I wouldn’t see this summer, I eventually choked up on my way out the door, overwhelmed that I was leaving my favorite job, my favorite apartment, and my beautiful home in Europe, walking distance to the sea.

This was a dream I had for many, many years – probably since I took my first trip to Europe in 1997: Paris, the Riviera and Rome. The tour also included Florence and Assisi — and I realized I loved Europe, loved the way I felt in Europe, and wanted more. I studied abroad in England in 2001. I backpacked alone for the first time that summer. I came back the following summer for more. I kept coming back. I remember telling a close friend,”When I close my eyes, I see Europe. It’s all I want.” I dreamed, and schemed, and then in January 2012 I accepted my job, in a story as told here when I celebrated 6 months in Europe. I almost chickened out, but I knew in my gut it was the right step, a necessary check on my timeline. And when it was time to decide whether to stay in this beautiful, peaceful, comfortable life or move on to my next adventures, I waffled and struggled, but for many reasons, I knew that it was time for NY. Maybe not forever, maybe just for a year or two, but for some reason, it’s time to be in NY. When confronted with the easy path or the hard one, I know I will grow from the challenging path. As weird as it sounds, the challenge at this point is to move home. I have enjoyed every moment of my time here, and rather than stay and resent certain things or wonder what if, I am leaving at my peak of enjoyment, preserving the memory. But before I tie the bow on this experience, I have a Grand European Farewell Tour!

I remember my New York Grand Farewell Tour. From February until my August departure, I savored every moment of my life in New York, visiting things like a tourist, going out with my friends as much as possible, and realizing how great things were at home. With this new trajectory, I scraped off my barnacles and felt revitalized and full of energy. Of course, none of this was easy. The emotions of leaving my job, friends, family, car and familiarity; the bureaucratic paperwork that took until just days before I hopped onto my plane–my friends wondering if I’d even be able to go when I was at my farewell party; packing my apartment for storage and shipping some belongings overseas; completing the days of paperwork and office visits upon arrival; figuring out how to get a cell phone and internet, how to ask for things at the grocery store, how to call a taxi, where to find tacos, where to buy cheddar (not in Italy!), where to get deodorant with antiperspirant; cooking daily; purchasing and riding a scooter; retrieving contacts stuck in customs; changing that strange fluorescent light bulb; getting the guy to get the geckos out of your water heater; getting stuck places because of delays or train strikes; dealing with Italy in general. But it was all worth it, and it was all possible thanks to the kindness of my colleagues and the patience of my friends and family who listened to my homesick gripes as they faded. Genoa became my home.

They say you can’t go home again, so I know I’ll have to reacclimatize to New York City, finding my more relaxed Mediterranean ways might not suit me well in the frenzied city. Yet I will have friends, family, and all the things I’ve been missing. I am setting new goals, treating my time back in NY as possibly temporary, so I need to enjoy it while I can. I want a nice apartment (no downgrades since I love what I have now); I have my leased car and I’m going to get a scooter there as well! I’m going to try out more adventure activities (rock climbing, kayaking, whatever comes my way). I’m going to do more US travel on the weekend. Friends in Cali and Chicago, I’ve never been to Colorado, Skiing in Vermont — so much to see! I’m going out in the city as much as possible mixed with many chill dinners at home with my closest friends. I’m also looking forward to my cats; I’ve been known to Skype them.

The job search from abroad was certainly tricky. I had resigned from the NY City public schools, so I wasn’t guaranteed a job in the system. I had to apply to even be considered as a candidate. Then I had to find the right fit. All through email or skype and with a time difference. Yet it worked out!

I absolutely love where I work now. I’m happy to say that my new school is also an excellent match for me: internationally minded,with coworkers who have worked abroad and/or traveled extensively like me, IB-inspired, semi-selective and serving a community of students who want a rigorous curriculum despite their incoming scores (except for the honors classes–which are selected). I will only be teaching 11th grade plus one elective (currently I teach 8,9,10,11,12). I enjoyed the variety of 5 grades, although it will be nice to just have one preparation so I can focus. I really liked what I saw when I flew in last month for both the school visit and a wedding, Just before I received the official job offer, my boss told me that my job opened up again here. I had agonized over the decision, spent a long time preparing for my job search, and ended up with something special and rare. I knew I couldn’t second guess. I just had to go, so I accepted the offer and am on my way.

But first:

A few days here to enjoy the gorgeous weather of June in Genoa. Days at beach, nights at beachside bars, perhaps dancing. Riding my scooter all around. Then next week, I fly to Belgium to visit my friends in Ghent and enjoy a charming canal view hotel room in Bruges. Upon my return, I have some time in Genoa again before Krakow with a friend for 4th of July weekend. I fly back, then that evening, two great friends from NY will be staying with me to explore the region. After they leave, I have a day to pack for my big adventure and pack up my apartment for the big move. I head to Interlaken, Switzerland in the Alps for a charming 2 nights on Lake Brienz, one of my favorite spots in the world. Peaceful reflection, hiking, biking, swimming. . . ahh! Next, I take a train to Constance, Germany where I meet up with my father. We will visit spas, museums, and explore with a car. Next, we take a train to Merano in the Dolomites, for hiking and fresh air, followed by Trieste where we meet a family friend, then a drive to Lake Bled, Slovenia (new country for me!), then to Rimini for a night, a quick peek at San Marino, then finally a couple of nights in the Cinque Terre before my shippers come. Dad and I enjoy a couple of days in Genoa, he leaves, then I have a few final days before back to the USA. It’s been great, and there are great things ahead.

My 10th grade students were so sad I was leaving. They wrote a sweet card, thanking me for “Being the Best English Teacher We Ever Had” and gave me this gorgeous Murano Glass Heart necklace. So touched!

I was wearing the perfect outfit for this sweet gift. That evening, I went to Milan for the evening to meet up with my brother and his girlfriend who just arrived from NY. This is in my hotel room there. I spent a lot of time in Milan hotel rooms coming and going somewhere special or meeting with friends and family.

For our last Italian class, we walked down to the sea for aperitivo and Italian conversation. Our colleague/teacher gave us these wonderful gifts so we can take a bit of Genoa with us!

I’m enjoying every moment. Right now, I’m enjoying a lazy day in bed, the door open to my terrace as the sunshine spills in, birds singing sweet melodies that are the soundtrack to my life here along with the occasional scooter. I have the peace and time to reflect. Content. Filled with gratitude. I have been truly blessed.

Third Time’s a Charm in Barcelona

Posted on March 18, 2014 by liguriansun

Barcelona wins me over more and more each time I visit. Actually, this blog could have been centered in Barcelona because the year before I accepted my job offer in Genoa, I had an opportunity to work there. In the end, I wasn’t ready to leave NYC — needed a year to prepare myself mentally, vest my pension, and some other logistical things. Sometimes I regret that decision but realize that my life here in Italy has been absolutely lovely so there is nothing to regret. Yet for much of my third visit to this vibrant, cosmopolitan yet distinctly Catalonian city, I kept wondering: “Why don’t I live here?”

* * *

I first visited Barcelona in 2003, a trip booked entirely on my credit card with plans to pay it off later. I don’t know what I was thinking because I was a grad student / lifeguard at that time. That was a bad plan, yet I have always had the travel bug. I met up with friends where I went to school in England, then headed to the Netherlands to meet up with a KLM flight attendant I met while traveling in Australia. Finally, I flew to Spain for the first time, playing the following song over and over on my disc man (I did not have an ipod until early 2005).

Go ahead – play it. It makes a soothing and appropriate background to the post. But not if you don’t want to . . . it would end up too much like the old myspace, then . . .

Spain was absolutely beautiful, but it was in the middle of a continental heat wave, with temperatures reaching 104 degrees each day. I spent most of my time in Internet cafes, blogging about my thoughts while I briefly emerged into the searing heat for a stroll or a sticky, stuffy metro ride. I got heat exhaustion while riding on upstairs an open-topped bus, and when I walked into one of the Gaudi buildings, the air conditioning made me gasp, and I dropped my SLR to the floor, the case popping open, exposing my film. I found time for a refreshing break in Montjuic, the setting of the 1992 Olympics which I remember well, and had some paella on Las Ramblas–but felt that, ultimately, I didn’t really experience Barcelona properly. I had to return.

My second visit, I accompanied four of my high school students from the Bronx on our school’s first trip to Europe, which I had coordinated. It was early spring in 2010, and a magical time in Barcelona, with sunshine and mild temperatures that invited long, wandering walks. We explored the coast, the medieval streets, saw the major sites, were entertained by flamenco dancers, and had a wonderful time. My students expressed their interest to move here one day–maybe for study abroad. We just had a couple of nights, and I knew I still didn’t know Barcelona. I had to return. She always had something to offer. Visiting Barcelona just once would be like visiting NYC just once for a couple of nights.

* * *

With Dad flying back at the end of our trip, I knew I’d have some time left in my vacation. I wanted to see Spain again and looked up airfare deals. The cheapest fare was to Barcelona and I figured that was perfect for just a few days. I made arrangements to meet up with my friend and fellow blogger Jessica at European Escapades, uniting at the hostel just off Las Rambles near Barceloneta and the beautiful beach.

I arrived on Halloween, not sure what to expect. Barcelona had an international crowd, so I figured there might be some parties. Jessica and I each packed our dirndls from Germany in case there were costume parties for the night. We met up, enjoyed some tapas, and wandered the medieval streets. It made me sad to see another seaside medieval city that was better cared for. Barcelona was open, warm, clean, inviting . . . very different from Genoa’s slightly gritty Medieval streets, small international scene, and overall closed perspective. Coming from NYC, provincial Genoa was a very refreshing, challenging, and authentic cultural experience. Yet I always felt like I don’t belong, craving more people my age, more international folks to mingle with, more things to do. Barcelona has that. As we wandered around, I used my high school Spanish here and there, and with all the time studying Italian, it had improved my Spanish listening skills. I was extremely comfortable here.

Exhausted in the evening, Jessica and I knew we wouldn’t make it to the Halloween parties advertised at the clubs, noting the general scene wasn’t that festive, although we did enjoy a couple of bars for tapas, and enjoyed singing along to the Ghostbusters theme song while being served by a Vampire in an Irish Bar here in Barcelona. We fell into a blissful slumber but were awakened way too early by a giant group of manga fans who were here for the convention. They were shouting in Spanish to each other very early. Eventually, I came out to ask the front desk to help silence them, which is something I have never done before. They did attempt, but shortly after the group was shouting and slamming doors again. The hostel was well reviewed but sometimes you can’t avoid these things, especially with thin walls. Jessica was especially disappointed because she was able to get single rooms in hotels for the price we paid here. Sadly, though, it was an expensive city over a holiday weekend (All Saints).

Jessica was open-minded and up for anything, not wanting me to have to see things I already saw on other visits. I mentioned I had always wanted to go out to Montserrat, a monastery in the mountains a short train ride outside of town. We enjoyed the ride, even with the holiday crowds, and emerged in the country for fresh air before boarding a cable car up the mountain and even fresher air in Montserrat.

before the cable car at the base of Montserrat

We posed for pictures, wandered around, hiked a bit further up the mountain, and enjoyed the peaceful, zen vibe in this spiritual center. Raised as a Catholic with many years of Jesuit education at Fordham University, it was extra special for me to be here as the area was founded by Jesuits. I felt connected to my faith and spirituality, at peace.

very unique crucifix

We enjoyed a simple yet delicious meal in the mountain air with splendid wine, played around for jumping sunset photos, and headed back to the city.

mountain laughter

When we arrived, we found our way to the museum, following the fountain light show featuring splendid colors and designs coordinated with the music. It was extra special because we hadn’t planned it. We didn’t read about it in a guidebook. We didn’t go out of our way to find it. We had no expectations. As I have noted in previous posts, expectations breed disappointment. It was all a pleasant surprise — one of those magical travel finds.

The fountains leading up to the museum

silhouettes

During the show, I ordered some churros and hot chocolate, dunking them in time to the music and lamenting their passing when they were all gone. Afterwards, a quick peek at La Sagrada Familia at night — a sight I had never seen up close– then back to the hotel where we sang along to “Holiday in Spain.”

The following day, we went up to Montjuic, enjoyed free entry to the museum (another surprise), and made our way down to the beach where we just chillaxed.

A woman approached me asking if I wanted a 5 euro foot massage. Just what I needed!

As the sun sank leaving her pastel trails, I once again found perfect peace. Next, we ate a fabulous meal of steak and black paella along the sea. Back at the hotel, we freshened up for a night out clubbing. As we strolled the winding, medieval streets, we had several offers to come to clubs for free. We went to one, and although it was kind of slow and empty, we had a great time, getting lost in the music. And despite my best efforts, I found myself getting wildly excited when “Blurred Lines” came on. That song just doesn’t leave your head, and I ended up humming or singing it the rest of the trip. Poor Jessica.

The next morning, Jessica and I had breakfast and Starbucks. (There is not a single Starbucks in Italy). We took our luggage with us. I left it at the train station while Jessica departed for her flight home. I opted for the cheaper, later flight which allowed me a bit more time in Barcelona although I risked missing the last train back to Milan.

I used the time to wander the streets, enjoyed mass at the stunning cathedral, and lazily made my way to the port for a meal at the buffet chain Fresco where I just happened to double check my EasyJet itinerary when I noticed I was wrong about my flight time back. The flight was leaving 45 minutes earlier than I thought. I sprinted across the port, into the metro, grabbed my bag and just missed the train to the airport. I had to wait a half hour for the next train and arrived at the airport with just enough time to sprint to the ticket counter. As my lungs burned, I kept reminding myself “Don’t give up now. If you don’t make it, you don’t get home tonight, you don’t get to work tomorrow. You are in major trouble and will lose a lot of money.” I arrived at the check-in desk where they said they just closed a minute ago. Noo! Why did I stop and walk slowly once I arrived? I said I was already checked in, so they let me go ahead, but they charged me extra to check my bag at the gate. Rushing through security with all my belongings, I made it to the plane at the tail end of the boarding line. Whew!

I arrived in MIlan with enough time to catch my train back to Genoa and back to work the next morning. What an amazing, sunny, beautiful vacation. This was the first time I ever had a fall break, and I loved it! It almost kinda made up for having to work on Thanksgiving.

Here are a few more photos:

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Oh Sicilia!

Posted on March 16, 2014 by liguriansun

Sicily was such an amazing surprise! It was the last stop on my heritage tour. I’m half Italian, quarter Irish and quarter Spanish, via Puerto Rico. In Italy, I’m from Piacenza and Sicily. This was the only place I hadn’t been. For that reason and because I heard so much about how beautiful it was, I wanted to go. At the end of October, I thought the weather would still be warm, sunny, and with the promise of swimming. Dad, however, was not too thrilled with the idea. He was going just to go, but didn’t really have high expectations.

After our weekend in Genoa, we boarded a very affordable flight (about 20 euros each with Volotea) to Palermo. The bright sunshine remained with us for the duration of the short flight, and then soon I could see a stunning, craggy coastline appear below us. As the sun was in that sublime glow of golden hour, it illuminated the terrain. After all my travels and all the beauty, I was in absolute silent awe as we slowly glided to the runway. I found myself taking photos even from the airport bus, because there it was — a beautiful mountain, right there. And the sky, the sunshine, the temperature…everything was perfetto.

Scenery on the drive from the airport

We picked up our rental car, and as Dad drove, we admired the rugged terrain–more like North Africa than Italy. Sicily was clearly her own place, and that’s exactly how she wants you to feel about her.

As we had just turned the clocks back, we lost daylight swiftly as the sun sank into the horizon casting a brief yet glorious pink glow across the shifting scenery, lingering just long enough for our arrival at the seaside hotel. The resort, perched at the edge of a cliff in Balestrate, overlooked a new marina with panoramic views of mountains and sea. This was paradise.

Sunset view from our room

As it was the end of October, we were in the off-season. Not peak time for tourists, but absolutely peak time for weather. The temperatures had cooled from the boiling summer highs, and as they receded so did the crowds. But for our entire stay, we had bright sunshine, a cobalt blue sky, and weather in the mid-70s, perfect enough for poolside lounging and a quick dip, and just splendid for runs along the beach.

Since it was the off-season, we got a great rate on the room. I remember emailing my father back and forth, deciding whether to stay in Palermo proper or somewhere along the coast. We browsed a few hotels, and then Dad found this. I wasn’t sure if it was ritzy or not, but the price and location seemed wonderful, especially since we had a rental car. We didn’t pay extra for a sea view, but we did get a bit of a view from our wonderful, newly renovated accommodation with ceramic tile floors, a balcony, and cozy amenities. Dad kept saying, “WOW!” as he pulled the car into the parking lot. He repeated the phrase throughout the journey as much as he mentioned the war in Germany.

The hotel was a splendid resort–not faded glory, but an expanding work in progress. We were two of only a few guests, so had space, peace, and felt like it was our own private villa at times, the staff there only for us. We had so many things we wanted to explore, yet the property itself beckoned for relaxation, whether at the pool, beach or spa.

We strolled through the tiny yet quaint town that night looking for dinner, but could not spot a restaurant. I thought it was hard to find somewhere to eat in Genoa . . . but this was a whole new level. Where do folks go? Mamma’s of course. Eventually we stumbled across a pizza parlor, walking inside to discover a spread similar to what we were used to in NYC, big pies with lots of topping choices as well as chicken rolls and calzones. Much of the New York Italian food must be influenced by Sicily as many of her immigrants came from here, including Dad’s maternal grandparents.

Sicilian influences for NYC pizza

I felt like I was in Pugsley’s, a favorite pizza joint by Fordham University and across the street from where I lived for many, many years in the Bronx. Sal was from Sicily before he came to America in the 60s and enjoyed Woodstock among his many adventures he shares with Fordham students and alumni. He always said: “Pizza is good, but love is it.”

<p><a href=”http://vimeo.com/21720884″>Pizza is Good, But Love is it: Pugsley Pizza</a> from <a href=”http://vimeo.com/vsw”>bob.sacha@journalism.cuny.edu</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a>.</p>

I felt at home as we sipped some beers and took a startlit stroll back to the hotel.

The next morning, I stepped out on the balcony to enjoy the sunrise and felt called to run. I hadn’t been able to run in years due to back injuries and problems. I just had to run here, so I laced my sneakers and headed along the coast, eventually finding my way to the super sandy beach below, littered only with wild stray dogs. It was a fantasy run, the beach all to myself, so I stopped for some yoga and stretching, enjoying the pure zen peace as the sun renewed my summer bronze. I made it back to the hotel, feeling invigorated and super excited that my back held up and that I had made room for an extra large breakfast spread. They had everything you could imagine for breakfast, including mini Sicilian pizzas, pastries, and even candy for your yogurt!

Post-run glow!

Breakfast in Eden

After lingering at the breakfast table, we changed into our swim suits to lounge by the pool for a few hours, grabbed lunch in town at another pizza place where the friendly owner kept calling dad “my brother” and me “my sister!” kissing us on the cheeks and exchanging long chitchat. Afterwards, armed with food for later (“you must get this for later, my brother!”) we hopped into the car. We set off to explore the Valley of the Temples, an ancient Greek site right here in Sicily. The drive inland stunned us with more rugged beauty, and we were grateful this road was here–financed by the European Union. Only a few years before, this trip would not have been possible via highway. We’d have to spend many more winding, uncomfortable hours on local, small roads. Instead, we were smoothly gliding along well-maintained roads with unparalleled views: ruins, castles on hilltops, farms, vineyards, hills..simple beauty.

In the Valley of the Temples, we were once again losing daylight, but we made it up to see some of the structures as the sun set.

To our delight, the ruins were spectacularly lit in the evening, creating a different and even more dramatic beauty under the stars.

As we drove home in the inky night, we were starving and found a little roadside pizzeria that was just opening as we arrived at 8pm. They were just firing up the oven, but we waited patiently and both ordered pizza littered with fresh seafood, including prawns in their shells. I was pleasantly shocked that my dad ate them, something he would never try at home.

Upon returning to our hotel, we nestled in for the night.

The next morning, I started the day with another great run. Afterwards we enjoyed a few hours at the hotel.

A perfect setting

lounging poolside

and a ride exploring along the coast. We passed many wild dogs, and I stopped to feed some. They barked,and their friends showed up shortly after. Then we found gigantic piles of garbage just outside the city, spotting dozens more wild dogs feeding there. Was there a garbage strike? Is this the way it always is? We explored some hill towns and then had a silly, scenic mountain drive back at night. Silly because although we wanted to follow the coast back home the way we came, the GPS somehow sent us inland and up and down the ridge of a mountain before dropping us off alongside a lake then back to Balestrate. Hours later, we were dizzy and tired, but glad we had a bit of an adventure and just enough time to visit the spa.

For our last day, it was time to finally see Palermo. We drove in. Yes. We had heard all the rumors of chaotic driving, but the two trains a day from Balestrate were sporadic and unpredictable in timing, so we thought this was the best solution. The ride to Palermo was easy, but once we got into the city center, we noticed absolute chaos. There were no traffic lights — it was a free-for-all similar to the way Rick Steves had explained traffic crossings in places such as Egypt. It was a novelty to see, but I wasn’t the one driving. Dad, white-kunckled and red-faced, finally navigated towards what seemed like the center, and we popped the car into a parking lot, finally freeing ourselves.

You can note the chaos we experienced in the above video.

Selecting a bit of everything at the buffet in the Palermo backstreets

more reminders of NYC Italian food

Dad in the homeland

We strolled a bit, found some traditional Sicilian buffet food, explored a few monuments, churches, and stores, pet a few stray cats, then back to the car for a chaotic drive home, hoping to avoid rush-hour traffic. We had just enough time to see the beach were I ran every day, enjoying the golden hour before sunset, a scene straight from a cologne ad.

My favorite picture of Dad!

See what I mean by cologne ad?

I wondered if I would like to teach in Palermo. Would it be too chaotic? Too bureaucratic? When I travel, I often try to imagine living in the place, but while it was interesting, I concluded Palermo was not for me and if I had to live somewhere in Sicily, I’d prefer Balestrate.

The next day, we flew to Milan. We were hoping to see Taormina and perhaps Mt. Etna, but Sicily is too large, too beautiful, and filled with too many treasures for a quick weekend snack. We had to devour more of her another time. I hoped to return soon. With the heritage tour “complete” I realized how incomplete travel always makes me feel. The more I see, the more I want to see. I don’t travel to check items off a list. I travel to make friends with a place or to revisit old friends. I just keep adding to my “want to see” list. Places may get checked, but they are rarely checked off the list.

Next stop: I would head to Barcelona to meet up with my friend Jessica while my father enjoyed a couple of nights in Milan, exploring Lake Como and visiting friends before heading home.

Here are some more photos from our trip:

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A Weekend in Genoa

Posted on December 4, 2013 by liguriansun

When I first accepted my job offer in Genoa, I knew very little about the city other than salami and her seaside location near the 5 terre. A NYC colleague told me, “You have to see the movie with Colin Firth . . . it’s filmed in Genoa.”

Luckily, that movie happened to be streaming on Netflix, and I watched it over and over and over as I prepared for my departure. I was mesmerized by the medieval center, the stunning coastline, the scooters, and other aspects of the city. I couldn’t wait to immerse myself in La Superba!

Before my departure (as well as several times after) family and friends have shared this great NY Times Travel Article: 36 Hours in Genoa. I have hit many of these items, but a few remain (including the aquarium).

Anyways, with all of my crazy travels, weekends in Genoa are actually quite rare. I love exploring with a visitor, and this time it was with my Dad. Dad celebrated his 60th birthday just a couple of days after I left NY this summer. I was so sad to miss it, and I wanted to make it special. This visit was about seeing me, but also about seeing Europe and celebrating this milestone.

[important note: My parents are happily married of 37 years, but they do not travel together because of the cats. Ask me later . . .]

So, I came home from work and began preparing a special birthday dinner for Dad. I wrote a letter of recommendation for Fordham University for a student / daughter of my colleague. As a thank you, the mother gave me a jar of delicious homemade sauce.

I used that sauce to make some fresh pasta, and I whipped up one of my favorite treats: I take round focaccia (oily, crispy yum found only in Liguria . . . well, it’s only good here), and spread it with pesto (again, only good here). I slice tomatoes and bufala mozzarella (sometimes just regular fresh mozzarella), and spread on the focaccia followed by garlic powder and fresh ground pepper. I bake in the oven until it smells amazing and serve. It’s absolutely delicious.

I served these things for Dad along with salad and some beer. Then off to the city center for drinks with a bunch of my coworkers. Yet another fun al fresco night in Piazza del Erbe, the social center of Genoa.

The next morning, I made Dad coffee and French toast, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with cinnamon (can’t find maple syrup here). I finished the recommendation process for the student while Dad took a stroll down to the sea. Upon his return, we took the bus to the train station then transferred to the metro to the port. Genoa’s metro only has a few stops, but it’s convenient even if it doesn’t have any maps at the stations! Once down there, we visited the resident submarine at the sea museum.

Watch your head!

The museum was such a surprise. After a visit to the sub, we had an hour and a half to explore. We didn’t realize that we spent almost an hour on the first floor at the Columbus exhibit; as we finished that first floor, two workers came to tell us that we had to hurry as there were only 45 minutes left and 3 more floors to see.

World Traveler

Replicas of Columbus’s ships

It was well-layed out, interesting, engaging, and fun. The top floor featured a replica of a ship that immigrants would have taken to the USA and Ellis Island. I was retracing the steps of my great Grandfather who came from Podenzano (near Piacenza). He left the port of Genoa for Ellis Island!

My great grandparents came over in similar quarters

The museum closed before we got to finish, rushing a bit at the end, so I will certainly be back. What a wonderful suprrise!

Then to dinner along the port, in one of the most stunning settings — something I will miss dearly whenever I decide to move on from my life here in Genoa. We enjoyed absolutely fantastic appetizers (fried vegetables), a great meal and ambience.

pernod!

We had great conversation, and then dessert. I had pernod flambet — it was like absinthe and I couldn’t feel my lips. I was perfectly content as was Dad. What a nice life.

Back to my apartment and to sleep.

The next morning, we had cereal and coffee, then out for a scooter ride. I took Dad onto Corso Europa, the fastest highway I can go on with my 125 — then we wound our way up a local mountain before heading back. It was exhilarating. Come along for a ride with us:

Then back for our bags and to the Genoa airport for a quick flight on Volotea to Palermo, Sicily — where Dad’s maternal grandparents emigrated from!

Waldwick Girls in Italy – Genoa and the 5 Terre

Posted on July 18, 2013 by liguriansun

Living in Italy, I have many wonderful colleagues and friends. However, nothing can replace my best friends at home, friends who have become like family. In May, I was super lucky that two of those friends visited at the same time, ladies I’ve known for about 19 years. When Jen and Anna arrived, we called it “Waldwick Girls in Italy.” And that entire time, I felt at home and was filled with pure joy as I had the best of both worlds.

They arrived on Friday May 10th and flew back early morning on Tuesday May 14th for a quick Girls’ Getaway. I know Jen and Anna from the track team in high school, and since then we have had many, many adventures from road trips to meets at Princeton and Brown University to visiting Jen in California to traveling in Belgium and Switzerland with Anna. Now it was time for us to kick back, chillax’, catch up, eat up, and soak up some sun. Would the weather finally cooperate?

Upon their arrival, I escorted the girls to my apartment for a nap while I finished the workday. Afterwards, I went down to change for the volleyball tournament against the German School. They were our #1 fans, as we played.

I’m in the royal blue and tennis skirt

After a quick tour of the school, we met in the staff room for pizza, focaccia, salami, and of course prosecco. We had the opportunity to chat with the staff of the German School, all intimidating in their matching uniforms, then headed to the apartment to freshen up for dinner. The girls surprised me with many gifts. Anna brought a selection of tastes from home, including cheddar cheese! and ingredients for Thai and Tacos. Among other goodies I requested from home, Jen surprised me with a mortar and pestle so I wouldn’t have to make my guacamole with a bowl and shot glass.

tastes from home

After the goodies, we walked down to one of my favorite restaurants by the sea, facing the beach where I love to swim. This upscale place is a bit expensive yet worth it for the delicious quality.

After a super delicious dinner and delectable desserts, we walked towards Nervi, enjoying the fresh sea air and views, then back up to my apartment where we tucked ourselves in for a relaxing night.

On Saturday morning, we lazily awoke and convened in the kitchen for coffee and cheerful chatter. We didn’t preplan our train to Vernazza because there were many options, and we just wanted to rest. I put out a little breakfast spread for the ladies, then we were on our way to Nervi where we caught the train to the Cinque Terre.

After a beautiful hour and 20 minutes, we arrived in the Cinque Terre. The Five Lands — 5 small villages nestled in the mountains along the rocky coast, villages that have preserved their own unique culture due to their isolated location for many years. It is possible to hike between all five villages, although after the devastating flood of October 2011 there are still parts of the trail that are not yet open. It took more than six months to clear the earth that swamped the villages– destroying homes and businesses, bridges and the landscape. Yet with careful determination, 5 Terre was open for business last summer and was looking absolutely great for our visit this May. On his site, my travel idol Rick Steves explains the disaster and recovery efforts. He also provides much amazing information about the region. He may be the reason why the predominantly heard language in the 5 Terre is English, and most of those folks are toting his guidebooks. But these are my favorite type of traveler, so I don’t mind.

Vernazza before the flood:

The floodwaters rush through the charming town:

Rick Steves takes us to Vernazza 6 months after the flood:

When we arrived in town, we were happy to see that Vernazza was almost back to her old self, vibrant and restored. But it’s impossible to forget the floods, as a giant photo reminds visitors as they exit the train.

We walked up the main street to our charming B&B, where we checked into our quaint room, then proceeded to walk around, explore town, and enjoy a great lunch.

The main street’s looking good

Colorful umbrellas provide a stunning backdrop for lunchtime reverie

After a delicious meal, we hiked through town and then decided to stroll to enjoy the gorgeous views on the trail to Monterosso, where I stayed with my mother in April.

The following slideshow features highlights of our journey.

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At the conclusion of our awe-inspiring hike, which was also an amazing workout, we saw a line. People were queuing up for a limoncello and lemonade stand on a man’s farm, served fresh from the lemon trees. Anna and I enjoyed lemonade while Jen had limoncello. I had a sip and regret not buying any. I’ll have to go back. Luckily it’s so close that I can return. We made friends with the old man selling the lemonade, and he invited me to go on his boat one day when he’s in Genoa. I have his business card.

Jen snapped this photo of me talking at the stand

Jen enjoying her limoncello

Next, we completed the trail then to Monterosso.

Once in Monterosso, we took some photos

then I took the girls straight to Cantina di Miky where a fellow Waldwick Girl works, as mentioned in my previous Cinque Terre post. We enjoyed a delicious meal, then posed for a picture with Christine.

We had delicious food, and anna especially loved the fried stracchino and vowed to recreate it when she returned home. She even found a distributor for stracchino in the US. At the conclusion of our meal, we were happily buzzed and boarded a train for a quick ride back to Vernazza and our cozy hotel room.

I fell asleep before I even touched my book. Unfortunately, the girls had a bit of jet lag and were up a while. But we woke up happy the next morning and enjoyed breakfast at the restaurant downstairs run by twin brothers from Sicily. Sicilian breakfasts are very, very sweet. The guys entertained us, and I got another business card as I made more friends once they realized I lived locally. “Come back and visit soon. Watch TV, you will learn Italian,” they said as I left.

We had just enough time to hike the hills right in town for some gorgeous photos. Finally, the Cinque Terre under stunning blue skies. Splendid.

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On top of the world on a gorgeous day.

After a Siren photoshoot, we boarded the train for Genoa, where it was finally swimming weather. We enjoyed a couple of hours on my local beach before dinner.

perfect weather for my first dip of the season

Next, we explored Genoa’s Medieval Center, where I gave the girls some tips for tomorrow’s exploration as I would sadly be at work. Then we enjoyed a nice meal at the Porto Antico.

Photoshoot at Piazza de Ferrari

Waldwick Girls in Italy

Golden hour of sunshine at the Porto Antico

On Monday, Anna and Jen explored the Medieval Center on their own after a lazy start and a yummy breakfast at their hotel. (They stayed at a hotel the last two nights since I would be working and so they’d be more comfortable). I met up with them for some shopping at the COOP Supermarket, then chilled in the room a bit before boarding a bus to Nervi where we walked on the passegiata for more stunning views. We had an aperitivo on the passegiatta,

then concluded the evening with a meal at Halloween, a pizza place in the little port of Nervi.

Back to the hotel for vino and Girl Talk before I headed to my apartment for sweet dreams. The girls left very early the next morning, and I missed them right away. I was so grateful for such a wonderful and joyous mini-break! Thanks Jen and Anna!

Stronger than the Storm – The Jersey Shore!

Posted on July 17, 2013 by liguriansun

In Italy, I watch Hulu over a NYC VPN, which gives me local commercials and subsequently helps me feel connected while getting my American TV fix. In the months before I left Genoa, I kept seeing one commercial over and over. An ad for the Jersey Shore: Stronger than the Storm. The commercial aims to let people know that although Superstorm Sandy devastated the area, much money and time has been invested to clean up beaches, rebuild boardwalks, and reopen businesses to lure tourists again to one of our favorite vacation meccas.

It’s kind of cheesy but super catchy, and the commercial fills me with pride for home. And now that I am home, I am happy when the commercial comes on. I’ve even wondered if there is a full-length version of the song. I am kind of embarrassed to admit it because I know it may annoy many, but for me I love the message. I was born in Yonkers, NY and didn’t move to NJ until I was 9, but I lived there long enough to get that Jersey pride, long enough to know that the show Jersey Shore might be representative of a small group of folks who get a house in Seaside (or Slea Side) but that is not what it really is. It’s families and friends. Something so simple and pure.

I think of Bruce Springsteen. I think of my childhood. I think of all the memories I had and all the memories I will have. And I cannot forget the absolute heartbreak I felt last October when Sandy hit, as I posted here and as was reposted on the blog Jersey Shore Stories.

“Do they really have to advertise they are open?” critics ask. “Are they really afraid they are going to be impaled on a carnival ride or something?” Well, that might be part of it, but the other part is to let people know that while yes, there is much work to be done, the beaches and boardwalks are there for us to enjoy once again. Coming to the shore again is step 1 in the healing process. Other critics say, “Why would they focus on the boardwalks when people are homeless?” The truth is that they must invest in tourism to bring more money and life back to the shore points. If people stop visiting, the economic damage will be even worse and the recovery even slower. I am horrified and upset at how long it is taking to rebuild after Sandy, and I speak from a personal standpoint because my brother’s two businesses suffered severe flood damage and he was denied FEMA loans for both. But I am happy that Jersey is moving forward.

This past Sunday, I went to the Jersey Shore for the first time since Sandy. I drove down with my friend Brendan who you may recall from my Spring Break posts in Italy and Switzerland. We headed for Point Pleasant, excited for a beautiful beachy day reliving fun memories from past summers down the shore. While talking in the car, we overshot Point Pleasant Beach, though, and ended up in Mantoloking where I gasped. There was clear devastation. Houses in ruins, the beach in various stages of cleanup, piles of debris everywhere. I was saddened and apologized for taking us to something we didn’t want to see, but Brendan said, “This is history. It’s important to see it. And also, this is a boom for the economy. Look at all the construction business.” That is true, but I hope people are ok.

Then eventually to Point Pleasant, with the boardwalk vibrant, filled with happy vacationers. There were many houses in various states of repair, but they had clearly worked hard to open shops. It felt right.

We darted straight into the waves, tumbling and laughing in the water. And when a wave would throw us into a pebbly mess, Brendan would say, “Perhaps we are not stronger than the storm. But you know what is? The shore.”

I took a relaxing nap on the beach and awoke, sifting seashells and pebbles through my fingers, wondering where these grains of sand were in October. Children laughed, families bickered, music blasted from the Jenkinson’s rebuilt Tiki bar. I was just so glad to be there. And afterwards, we had some homemade ice cream from Hoffman’s, which was the perfect end to a gorgeous and relaxing day. And we didn’t hit any traffic on the way home! The first of many Jersey Shore days this summer. Grateful.

Under the Ligurian Sun

My life and travels while living La Dolce Vita in Genoa, Italy.

Category Archives: sea

All My Sunsets

Sweet Valencia, Spring Break 2014 part 4

More Malagahhhh: Spring Break 2014 part 3

Malaga with a side of Morocco: Spring Break 2014 part 2

2 Years Gone

Third Time’s a Charm in Barcelona

Oh Sicilia!

A Weekend in Genoa

Waldwick Girls in Italy – Genoa and the 5 Terre

Stronger than the Storm – The Jersey Shore!