Visiting the ‘Boat, Pt 1

There is no feeling that can compare with locking the house door and jumping in the car or onto a plane to leave town. Even if it is to a relatively normal place you’ve been before, it’s still away from the everyday and familiar. Stepping into a new place, and having all of your senses assaulted with new smells, sounds, and sights (bonus points if you have to talk to the locals in mime). If only plane tickets and vacation time grew on trees…

Since we have done very little traveling so far, only about 2% of the traveling I hope to do in my lifetime, I get excited about trips to places even an hour away. So I bouncing off the walls about our Christmas gift from Ryan’s dad: tickets to visit Steamboat Springs, Colorado, where both of Ryan’s parents live. The town is so beautiful, and heaven to the snow-starved among us.

It was a laid back trip with lots of good food, visiting some of Ryan’s old friends, and me throwing snowballs at Ryan whenever his back was turned. We haven’t gotten to spend much time with either of his parents when we’re not in a big group, so it was nice to have the chance to just sit and talk.

Ryan was pretty excited to spend some time in a fully outfitted wood shop with his dad, who has every tool and saw. Alot of things I didn’t even know the names of, but apparently Ryan knows how to operate.

Portland

I get to see my best friends from college about once a year. Distance and busy families and everyday lives and crazy schedules get in the way. So I was pretty excited about meeting everyone in Portland for a weekend. Some folks were running the Portland marathon, and others, such as us Chaneys, were more excited about the morning coffee.

We didn’t remember to take very many pictures, we were too busy with friends.

Here’s all of us non-marathoners hanging out with the babyand a box of Voodoo Donuts.

This guy finished in 2 hours and 41 minutes.

We did a lot of hanging around and waiting.

Finishers!!!

Alaska Lake

No, not in Alaska.  The trailhead is about an hour outside of Seattle just over Snoqualmie pass. Perfect for a quick weekend backpacking trip so Ryan could fish in peace.  My sister came with us, and since she didn’t get off work until 2pm on Saturday, we had to move pretty quick on the way up.  The last brutal uphill mile is not a maintained trail, so we did have to pause a few times looking for the next strip of bright trail-marking-tape or cairn built by a previous friendly hiker.

We spent most of Sunday relaxing and enjoying the Lake.  Ryan fished for about five hours, taking only one quick break for coffee and oatmeal.

To give you a landmark of where we were, the Pacific Crest Trail stretches across the ridge on the opposite side of the lake.

When we first arrived, we did some scouting for a good campsite, since the three at the lake were already taken. We ended up back at the main lake access, and found a nice spot between a couple fallen trees.

Mostly we were eager to be as far as possible for a group of six young people who did not understand how loud and obnoxious they were. Who play music at a wilderness campsite? Thankfully they left early the next morning, leaving the rest of us in the quiet. (We also may have failed to feel sorry for the one that fell into the frigid lake water while he was trying to fill his water bottle.)

Ryan was up at dawn the next morning, unable to wait any longer to get his line in the water.  He did a little fly fishing, but mostly spinning reel fishing. He caught half a dozen little fish that we set free again, and couple keepers that we fried for lunch.

The after picture.  Taken right at the amazing moment when you get to take your hiking shoes off.

Brooks Memorial

The semi-annual family camping trip was last weekend. The weekend that bordered on Glamping, we spent most of the time around a campfire, some time exploring the area, and threw around a great deal of sarcasm. Our two side-by-side campsites had five tents, one little backpacking tent for each couple and a wee one for Grace, and Old Yeller, the parent’s big yellow dome tent that we’ve been camping since we were toddlers.

The first evening we were there, we were asked if we were part of the Sasquatch hunt that was in the area.  There had been a few sightings and while most of the hunters were gone and the festivities over, there were a few folks remaining. Now while I know we’re not totally normal, do we really look like Sasquatch hunters? But it was a good information for when you think you might want to stumble into the woods for a midnight bathroom break. Even a girl in pajamas might look like Sasquatch to an eager fan.

We explored some of Eastern Washington’s tourist activities. The Maryhill Museum, including the Stonehenge memorial (know affectionately as Fauxnhenge), the Mary Hill Winery for some wine tasting, and lunch at the Glass Onion. There was also a brief trip to the local observatory to look at the sun through a telescope. (Mom couldn’t resist the one educational field trip option)

On the way home, Ryan and Grace and I took the scenic route to jump in the Yakima River. The water was so cold it made your feet and ankles ache.  So Grace and I only made it in thigh-deep. Ryan went for a full dunk.

A Weekend Away

We always come back from a weekend in Moscow physically exhausted, but very happy. We tend to stick around on Sunday afternoon just a little too long.  The guys open another beer.  Someone finds another treasure trove of a interior design magazine.  Another kid need a snack, which means it probably time to brew another latte made with almond milk.

And then it’s 8:30 pm, four and a half hours past our departure time goal, and we’re faced with the long drive back to Seattle. After a long dark drive, we roll into our bed at home at 1:30am, and roll back out at 6am for work. And so Monday night is one of those night we get home from work, eat, and go to bed at 8:30.

But spending the time with the Moscow crowd of family is always worth it.  This  time we had the added bonus of Ryan’s mom being in town. We went to see the church building Ryan’s brother is the contractor on remodeling from an old warehouse to a church building. I squeezed in quick visits with a couple old friends (and missed too many more). Ryan soaked up the comfort of his home town. And we spent plenty of time relaxing with family. Uncle Ryan is very popular because he will bounce on the trampoline and play nerf war and so much more.

The littlest nephew (of the 8 nieces and nephews we visited) is almost 3, and brimming with personality.  He says ‘bing’ with the a perfect ringing bell tone at random intervals or when he gets something he wants. And he even got his dad to bounce him on the trampoline. We’re not sure who had more fun with that one.

And in spite of living in Seattle, a meca of markets, the Moscow Farmer’s Market remains Ryan’s favorite, so we wandered it, drinking coffee and eating baskets of sun-warmed raspberries and tiny, delicious donuts.

Italy Part Five and Final: Venice

Venice was our final stop and was one of the strangest places I’ve been.  While on the outside it looks much like all the other old Italian cities, it was only a phantom shell.  The whole sinking city felt like a ghost town.  As the sun went down I half expected the wealthy shoppers and the glittering jewelry displays and the cheery gondoliers to vanish into the thick fog to rise again with the sun.  It was abandoned buildings and decaying facades.  ‘Elegant decay’ and ‘artificial respirator of tourism’ is how our guide book aptly described it.

It was a beautiful city.  There are no cars, so it is very pleasantly walkable, and the tiny brick ‘roads’ with tall buildings on either side made it feel like a maze sized just for grownups. We gave up trying to figure out which curving little path we were currently on, and got thoroughly lost for the afternoon. And Ryan found a wallet at a fourth generation leather maker that was exactly what he wanted.

We didn’t ride in a gondola, but they were beautiful.

Ryan chose some fruit for us to snack on. He has the knack for selecting the best produce.

I wanted to sing the Mary Poppins song at this lady, but Ryan prevented it.

This was one of the most delicious foods we ate in Italy.  Translated to ‘Special Toast’ it was the chef’s choice of toppings, then broiled, and drizzled in olive oil and sprinkled with oregano. No substitutions or requests.

Completely lost, but enjoying the journey.

These ducks were hoping for a better handout than orange peels.

Just chillin in a sidewalk cafe on St Mark’s Square.

Wishing for a boat.

And that, my friends, was the end of our trip to Italy.

Italy Part Three: Arezzo

One morning we rushed down to the train station and fought with the automated ticket machine in time to see the train to Florence pull away without us.  This is how Ryan felt about that.

But since we had a whole day, we took the next available train, which happened to be going to Arezzo.  We didn’t know anything about it other than the dot on the map, but it ended up being one of our favorite stops.  It’s a smallish city, so it’s not so touristy, and the people are warm and friendly.

It is the town where the endearing(!) Holocaust film Life Is Beautiful was filmed, and we had our mid-morning caffe latte at Cafe Dei Costanti where part of the movie was filmed. The cafe has been there since 1804, and was charming top to bottom, from the old guys reading their morning newspapers to the waitress who spoke no English but was very hospitable.

The restaurant we ate lunch at had the kind of soup that you want  lick the bowl clean to not wast the last remnants.  I refrained, and instead tried to get the recipe from the server through mime and broken English. It was a combination of smooth pureed beans, tiny pasta, sage, oregano, and garlic, served with a drizzle of olive oil and fresh pepper.  I’m am working on re-creating it and will post the recipe once it somewhat resembles the original creation.

Arezzo was the perfect town to wander around and enjoy the sleepy streets and quiet churches and piazzas, and had plenty of doorways to hide from the rain.

When we tried to get back from Arezzo, we got on the wrong train. It was a good 20 minutes before we realized we were on the wrong train. So we jumped off at the next station, and after a brief animated discussion with the platform attendant, finally understood that the train we wanted was about to pull away. So back we dashed down the steps to the underground passageways, underneath all the tracks, and back up onto the correct platform to just catch the train. Whew.

Italy Part Two – Wine and Olive Oil Country

After our jet-lagged days in Rome, we drove up to the hills outside of Florence. Curving up narrow steep roads, around hairpin curves, Italian drivers tailgating and passing on blind corners.

Ryan drove, enjoying being back in a manual transmission and the lack of things like enforced speed limits or lane divisions. The only traffic rule we observed was Try Not To Hit Other Vehicles.  But if you can squeeze your Fiat up between those two cars at the red light, than go for it. Ryan was thriving on it.  I navigated, alternating between trying to decipher the Italian Road Atlas and frantically reading the approx 18 directional signs on each sign post. Street names were only a vague memory of an organized homeland.  You better know what the next village on your path is, and the bigger town/city on the end. When we arrived at our hotel in the little village on a hillside without computerized help, a family there recommended that if Ryan had indeed found it in the dark without GPS, I’d better marry him. Ha! I knew I married a good one.

Outside the village of San Donato

We were staying in the room in the top of the yellow building.

Our view.  Please excuse the rain.

We drove up to the top of the hills to visit Abbezia di Vallambrosa, but it was closed for the winter.  It was just us, the snow, and a dark green Aston Martin.

Road-tripping through the villages.

Reggello

We were driving through Chianti region, the only part of the world that produces Chianti Classico.  We asked why that region was so good for growing grapes and olives.  In reply we received the ‘duh’ look, and “because it’s the best.” One of the vineyard we tasted at has been there since the 1100’s. And it had a giant wine cork.

Unimpressed that I made him stand in the rain and wet grass for a picture.

Many times during our trip we had to hide from a downpour.

Our favorite winery was Montagliari. After 10 minutes of wandering around and slamming doors to no avail, an Italian with a cellphone drove up.  He called the winery, and a man came running down to let us taste some pretty exquisite Chianti and olive oil. He was the very amiable owner, David, and we had a nice chat in mime and some English.

Country mornings were the best.  They involved alot of pastries, caffe, and relaxing.

Ryan and the hotel’s cat were best buds by the end of the week.

Ryan wants to build a wood fired pizza oven, and the hotel had a grand specimen. He almost climbed into it seeing how they built it.  Good thing he was wearing black already.

Italy Part One: Rome

Our flight landed in Rome and we spent two days there.  Rome was not high on either of our must-see lists, so that was plenty of time for us. We visited just the few things we wanted:  the Colosseum, the Vatican and Sistine Chapel, the Catacombs, and the many walkable streets.  As I entered the dead silent Sistine Chapel I tripped over the worn stone floor, and nearly clattered head over heels.  Thank goodness for still-somewhat-young-reflexes, I almost was that person. What would a poised and perfect Audrey Hepburn have thought?  tsk tsk.

Our favorite part of Italy – all the walking.  We loved wandering and getting lost on all of the curving narrow old streets.  Everyone is out walking, talking in the street, perched on a curb eating gelato, just being a community in their beautiful (but dirty) city.

I can understand why the audience in the Colosseum wanted to kill someone, I would too after a few hours on those seats.

Ryan found a Triumph Scrambler, one of his top two bike picks.  He was only drooling a little bit.

The giant one-piece granite pillars of the Pantheon.

We consumed quite a bit of gelato during our visit.

Walking to visit the Catacombs.

Oh you know, just walking on the Appia Antica that the Romans built. No biggie.

The history geek in me was freaking out of it’s mind.

A visit to all the greats in the Vatican Museum.

This is Grace when any of her siblings decide to make out in front of her. Fair enough.

We ate alot of blood oranges over the week.  We weren’t quite sure if we were supposed to be eating in the Vatican courtyard, but nobody stopped us…so:

The immense columns of St Peter’s Square

Really really immense

The square is also immense.

And that was Rome.  We were a little jet-lagged and haggard for those two days (I was pretty sick on the plane) so we were unhurried and just enjoyed being away from work and responsibility.