#3 Saturday, March 8 "I can't believe I ate the whole thing."

When I was a kid growing up, there was a commercial for Alka Seltzer on TV that had a man in his pajamas sitting on the side of his bed late in the evening and moaning, "I can't believe I ate the whole thing." That's the way I felt after this day was over.

The alarm on my cell phone (no, there was not a clock in the room) rings at 7:00 am. As I open my eyes, I realize I have not moved the entire night. That's how tired I was. We get up, and for three women, I must admit we have a pretty good system for getting ready in one bathroom. We have breakfast in a small but quaint dining room. There are fruit juices, coffee, cereals, fruit, cheese, and breads from which to choose, so we begin our perusal of the breakfast bar. The fruit juice ends up not being the best, and the best description for the coffee is motor oil, thick and strong. But there is a wonderful treat in the form of a crescent roll that has a sweet glaze over the top, which can be filled with a custard cream, or sugary syrup or be plain. I never figured out how to determine which I was selecting, but there wasn't a bad one in the bunch. This morning I eat two, along with cheese and toast with butter and cherry jelly. Yes, cherry jelly. I can't say that I have had anything like that before, but it is good.

After breakfast we meet in the hotel lobby to begin a day of sightseeing and shopping, We meet our guide Roberto at the Santa Croce Church and begin our tour of the old city of Florence. Old might not be the right word since that part of town is a vibrant part of the city's life. As he takes us through town, we hear the well-known names of Michelangelo, da Vinci, Medici, Dante and Machiavelli, people I have studied and taught in my career as an English teacher.

Santa Croce Church, burial place for Michelangelo, Galileo, and Machiavelli

We spend half our morning on a tour around the Piazza del Vecchio looking at the various types of architecture, the statues, and examining the influence of the Medici family in early Florence. While showing us the outside of the Uffizzi, the government office building of the Medici family that is now a museum, Robert mentions two more items to be checked off my Bucket List, Botticelli's The Birth of Venus (better known to most students as Venus on a half shell) and Primavera, also known as Spring. I begin to salivate knowing that I will get to see these at some point while in Florence.

First palace of the Medici family at the Piazza del Vecchio

Replica of the original Il David, placed in the spot where the original was placed outside the Medici palace

Michelangelo's sculpture of Neptune outside the Medici palace

Former Gondi palace where da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa

Now is time for the coup gras of the morning, our viewing Michelangelo's Il David. We have seen one replica of the statue in the Piazza del Vecchio, but nothing has prepared us to see the "real thing." Roberto gives us all the details of the statues from what David is holding in his left hand to why his right hand is out of proportion to the rest of the statue. We examine the statue from the front, both sides and the back and the front again. Although, The David was not on my Bucket List, I think it should have been. When we get to the bookstore and souvenir shop, I purchase my book on the Il David to read later. I will need a translator. I accidentally purchased the one in Italian!

Front of the the Santa Maria del Fiore with pink and green marble

By now I have walked off my breakfast, and the organized part of the day is finished. We are on our own until 6:00 that evening. I am hungry, and so are several others. Our tour leader MR and her husband John end up going with the 3 buddies to a ristorante named ZaZa's. It is a small and crowed establishment that is rather warm inside so we opt to sit in the outside dining area. Our waitress is pleasant, a contrast to other Italians we have dealt with so far, but at this point I am still reserving my judgement on the population as a whole. We look over our selections and there it is--prosciutto. Now mind you I have never eaten prosciutto, but I have watched Giada on the Food Channel use it in many of her Italian specialities. You might be wondering how I know I would like prosciutto. Well, I am a vegetarian by choice, but not a vegan. I do eat dairy products and other produce from animals. And, I do like meat, but I choose not to eat it. But I must confess I love pork--pork chops, pork roast, pork tenderloin, and most of all BACON, fried crisp. If I fall off the wagon, bacon is usually the culprit. Prosciutto is pork that has been cure and salted and is what Italians consider the equal of our bacon,. Ergo, I know I like prosciutto. For my appetizer I order melon and prosciutto. Our waitress sits my plate in front of me, and I am salivating at this point. I wrap my first piece of melon in the prosciutto and pop it in my mouth. Yep! I knew I would like it. No. I love it. I continue to eat with gusto while the others at my table wonder if I have lost my mind. I finally persuade John to try a bite. Yep! He likes it. My main course of ravioli in a creamy red sauce with Parmesan cheese is next, and I inhale it along with bread and oil. The Italians just may have this eating thing down to an art.

We pass on ZaZa's dessert, and opt to introduce ourselves to gelato, an Italian ice cream. I am not a big ice cream eater, but gelato could change my mind . It is this creamy concoction that comes in flavors we have not even begun to think of here in the States. We all share in tasting each others' and vow to try more later.

We are near the Central Market and decide to do some shopping Italian style, bargaining. The market is a site to behold. Leather is everywhere, leather purses, leather coats, leather gloves, leather hats, leather wallets. Cashmere and lambswool scarves of every color and design and style. Murano glass jewelry and trinkets. Wooden Pinocchios (will explain later). Linen table cloths, napkins, and handkerchiefs. There are all kinds of items a euro can purchase. Note: The Euro is the money in Italy and is being used over most of Europe. The exchange rate for the US dollar is not good . While we are there the we have to pay $1.65 for one Euro. Your money can get away from you very quickly. But there are some great buys at the market, and Cathy and Shirley and I make friends with a vendor named Celeste from Romania; we buy scarves galore. Everyone we know back home will be dressed in an Italian scarf next winter. After spending time and money at the market, we begin to head back to our hotel. On the way we stop by the Ufizzi to get our tickets for a Sunday visit to the museum.


We get back to the hotel and purchase some computer time to e-mail home and learn that parts of Mississippi have gotten snow. Crazy weather.


We gather in the hotel lobby to walk to Il Latini to experience a fantastic meal Italian style. After a brisk stroll and a brief wait, we are seated and begin our meal. Our antipasta is served first: fresh mozzarella cheese, tomatoes, and prosciutto (yea!). First course: 3 soups-cannelloni bean, tomatoes and eggplant, tomato and bread and two pasta dishes, one with a white sauce and one with a red sauce. Main course: a meat platter containing chicken, lamb, pork, and duck, along with roasted potatoes with rosemary. The icing on the cake is the dessert platter that has tiramisu, cheese cake, fruit tart, gelato, and vanilla cream cake. To wind up the meal we are served a small shot of amaretto that warms me all the way through. One of my favorite places to eat is Walker's Drive Inn in Jackson, and I don't know of anything that rivals their crab cakes and the red fish, but this meal came close to it.

Dining at Il Latini: front to back: Robert Sledge, DK, Shirely (standing, I will explain later), Cathy

Left front to back: Randy and Nan Randle; Right: Patricia Brashier, Susan Allen, Susan Jordon, Betty Barret Rodgers

Left front to back: Bill Nunley, Drew McDowell, Debbie Woodruff, Natalie Peeler: Right: Diane Nunley, Mary Ruth and John Brindley, Mary Kat McDowell


Thank goodness we walk after this meal back to our hotel. We sit in the lobby for a while, and I learn how to play a card game and play a few hands before I turn in for the night. I am stuffed, and the man in the commercial finds his way into my thoughts as I get ready for bed and another night of sound sleep after three great meals.

The traveling buddies after a wonderful meal at Il Latini

#2 Friday, March 7 Our First Day in Italy or "I haven't come this far for a drive by look at the Leaning Tower."

Let me preface this entry by saying, if I had known how the day would turn out, I would have spent more time praying after reading my devotion on the plane.

The day begins with a beautiful sunrise over the Alps. I pass on the breakfast and drink the cup of o.j. and go to the restroom to freshen up a bit (ha ha). We debark and go through a passport check and then claim our luggage. Pablo, our bus driver, is waiting for us with the obligatory "Mr. Brindley" sign and leads us to our bus, our home for the day. May I interject at this point I did not know a bus could look so good after sitting between two strangers for eight hours. We load our luggage and head into Milan to see the Duomo, the second largest cathedral in Italy after St. Peter's. Basilica in Rome.

On the hour ride, we get a glimpse of the outer city of Milan and the thoroughfare, along with the blooming shrubs, flowers and trees. The foliage is much like that of Mississippi , bright yellow forsythia, Japanese magnolias, and the glossy green leaf magnolias.

We arrive at the center of Milan to visit our destination. Old buildings with scroll work, sculpture and the necessary gargoyle rain spouts line the streets. We walk through an elegant shopping piazza with Armani, Prada, Ferragamo, and other Italian fashion names lining the the street and offering the finest and most expensive merchandise. One of the streets leads to the open piazza and the Duomo. After spending time on and around the ground floor of the cathedral, some of us ride the lift to the top while others climb the steps (Yay, Drew) to view the piazza below and the city with the Alps in the distance. We also see the La Scala Opera House from the outside only since it is closed to visitors this day.

The Duomo in Milan. The boards in front are part of scaffolding that is being used in cleaning the building. The church is the largest example of Gothic architecture in Italy.

I'm standing on the steps of the cathedral with the Piazza del Duomo in the background.

The Piazza del Duomo from the roof of the cathedral.

We load the bus again for a four hour ride to Pisa to the the famous Leaning Tower of Pisa, which will stay etched in my mind for a long while. A quick stop at an Autogrill puts us on our way to Pisa. Note: There is the phenomenon all around the major highways in Italy known as an Autogrill. It is a fancy version of what we have here in the states known as a truck stop. There are quarters for drivers to rest and shower and restrooms for travelers to visit for a needed break. But this is where the similarity stops. There is also a fast food court of sorts, along with a mini grocery store and shopping area--think Cracker Barrel but more sophisticated. You can purchase fast food, pizza, and pasta along with fries and cokes. But even better, is the Italian sandwiches you can purchase with all kinds of meats, seasonings, cheeses, and veggies. They are served on flat breads or panini bread or hard rolls. Never underestimate the meal that can be purchased at the Autogrill! The Greshams need to look into this concept for the Double Quick. I regret I did not get a picture of the Autogrill setup. At this point, I was not hungry so I did not even go in. I ate a pack of nabs and drank some water, a decision I would later regret.

We make our way over the mountains of northern Italy and drive south heading to Pisa. We have a very sleepy drive through the Tuscany region and countryside. I have often heard of the beautiful Tuscany area, but this part was not that beautiful. As a mater of fact, it reminded me of the Mississippi Delta with its areas of poverty and rundown landscape. We are now traveling in rain that turns to snow as we climb the elevation. Haiden, one of the students on the trip, is disappointed when we go back down and the snow turns to rain again. We drive into a rainy Pisa, but our spirits are not dampened, at least some of our spirits are not dampened, and we prepare to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Note: As a young student in school, I was always mesmerized by pictures I would see of the Leaning Tower, and it was a dream of mine to see it at some point in my life, so rain was not going to stop me now.

As we get off the bus, we are surrounded by Africans hawking umbrellas to protect us from the rain, no matter that we had on rain gear and our own umbrellas. They could be rather forceful and intimidating, and we had to respond with a forceful "No!" at times. I could see where they could be rather scary to our little whitebred southern belle students. But isn't that the purpose of travel, to be exposed to life and get out of our comfort zone? Remember that comfort zone statement! Anyway, we load on to a shuttle bus that takes us to a drop off point and then walk on to the old city gate of Pisa. Note: It is important to take in your surroundings as you walk in unfamiliar places, i.e. keep you mouth shut and watch where you are going. We walk along the old city wall and then look to the left and see the Leaning Tower, framed by an archway. We enter through the arched gate, and there is the picture I had gazed upon so many times. I had finally made it to see The Leaning Tower of Pisa.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa bathed in the rain.

It is still raining, and the faint of heart decide they have seen enough. Not me. In my own words, "I have not come this far for a drive by look at the Leaning Tower." I purchase my ticket with several others from our group and prepare to tour the Baptistery, Church and the Tower. We learn that we are too late to go up into the tower but can tour the inside of the other two structures. I have my obligatory picture made with my traveling buddies and head out to see the sites as they head back to the bus. Sissies!

Cathy, DK and Shirley at the Leaning Tower of Pisa

Those who know me well, know what a detail person I am, so when I visit a museum or point of interest, I read every plaque and look intently at every statue and painting. It is no different here. I wander the Baptistery and the Church and walk around the Tower, looking at it from every angle. It is still raining, and the sun is starting to fade. Time to go. Where is my crew? Which way do I get back to the drop off? "Do you speak English? ", "Inglese?", "Dove la polizia?" Yes, I am officially separated from my group. Notice I do not say lost. I know where I am. I just can't get back to my group. Okay, what to do? My rational self says, "Stay here. Do not wander the streets tryinig to find your way!" My spiritual self prays to God to keep me safe and put good people in my path. My mortal self says, "You have messed up royally!", and I am really out of my comfort zone.

I stand in the rain for 45 minutes talking to my self, asking for directions to the bus drop off from vendors and walking no more than two blocks in each direction trying to find the drop-off. I ask an ambulance driver to call the police for me. I think several times, "If only I had kept my mouth shut and paid attention to my surroundings, I would not be in this predicament." It is dark now, and I am soaked. A taxi ride to Florence will be too expensive, but I could take a train to Florence if I could get a taxi to take me to the train station. Where are the polizia? Yeah, they have no intention of coming and are laughing at the Americano stupido. Every scenario of how to catch up to my group runs through my mind. Then out of the dark and rain I hear, "DK!" I turn to see John Brindley, my beautiful beautiful friend Shirley, and backup man, Robert Sledge. "Yes, Lord you are good!; I am rescued!" They inform me that a bus load of concerned folks is waiting on me and Mary Ruth is near tears, imagining every worse scenario from the Africans dragging me off to my wandering the streets alone. We start back and I realize my path to the bus drop off is as simple as following the city wall. Duh!!!!

A group sigh of relief goes up when everyone sees my red coat, and as I get on the bus there is a silence followed by several hushed,"Thank God!" Tears are rolling down Mary Ruth's checks, and she hugs me out of relief that she doesn't have to call my husband and tell him she lost me, or should I say I lost myself. Now that she is relieved, she is ready to kill me, never mind our 20 year friendship. An hour late we leave Pisa, headed for Florence with a bus load of relieved adults and hungry kids.

Well, I have seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa and can check that off my Bucket List. Now, I need to figure out how to get back in MR's good graces and profess my mea culpas!

Okay, I know you're asking, "Why didn't you just call someone on the bus?" I didn't have a phone. Only one person brought a phone with international minutes, and I did not have that number. I also did not have the local number of the bus driver or the number of EuroAmerican, who could have gotten in touch with the bus driver. We had not really made a group plan of what to do if we got separated from our group. Needless to say, all this was covered before our next day.

Several people asked me if I cried. Those of you who know me, know that I cry quite easily when I talk about my spiritual faith, think about my family, or watch touching movies and tv programs. But, when I get in this type of situation, crying is the farthest emotion from my mind. I try to be as logical as possible, which is one of the reasons MR was so worried. She knew me too well to know that I would not show up without a good reason. The rest of the trip the question was, "Is DK with us?" or "Where is the red coat?"

After after a two hour bus ride, we arrive in the dark thanks to me, in Florence, throw our luggage in the hotel bar and walk to our restaurant to eat. What a wonderful way to end such a miserable day. We dine at the La Marmare Ristorante and begin with bread and olive oil and fresh ground pepper. Wine is ordered all around and we wait for the first course. The waiter brings a penne pasta with a cheesy sauce. I have to remember not to stuff myself because in Italian fashion there is another course coming. Next is a cut of beef smothered in a gravy with roasted potatoes. Our dessert is a like a flan custard with a chocolate sauce and powdered sugar. Yeah, it was a wonderful meal!!! It was even more wonderful because I only had eaten a pack of nabs and drank o.j. all day long.

We stroll back to the hotel, but before arriving, Cathy manages to trip and fall. It is a very easy thing to do with the cobblestone streets and curbs. She doesn't hurt any bones but does a real number on her knee and manages to rip a tear in her jeans across the entire knee. We settle into room 203 of the River Hotel on the Arno River. We take our much-needed baths. Remember we haven't had a bath since we left the good ole US of A. After our baths we fall into our beds for the soundest sleep I have had in a long time.

#1 Thursday, March 6 We Are on Our Way

Okay, I don't care who you are; 4:00 am is too early for anyone to get up, even if we are leaving for Italy in an hour and a half. Anyway, I literally drag myself out of the bed to get ready. After two cups of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal (Oatmeal just does not taste as good at 4:00 am as it does around 8:30 am while I sit in my swing and watch the birds at the feeders.), I am ready to go. Lance gets me loaded up after twenty questions of, "Do you have . . . ?", and we pick up Mrs. Mary Kat and head to Indianola Academy.

We check in with Debbie to prove we have our passports and money and then scout out a spot on the bus. My traveling buddies Shirley and Cathy arrive, and after hugs and kisses all around, we are Atlanta bound. We ride for six hours discussing every topic under the sun, while for me re-establishing some acquaintances in some cases and forming new friendships in others. We eat our box lunches and arrive at the airport to get checked-in and wait to board our plane for an eight-hour flight. We get settled in our seats and are on our way.

Shirley, Cathy, Mrs. Mary Kat and DK: Look out Italy! Here we come.

Naturally, in trying to teach me patience, the Lord to whom I am giving credit along with the airline, puts me in the middle seat of a three-seat row. "Stuck in the middle with you" runs through my mind as the Italian man to my right manages to use me for a pillow for half the flight, and while the woman next to me, who is pleasant enough, struggles to get out of the seat each time I need to get up to go to the restroom or to walk around to fight off cabin fever and getting stiff (Getting stiff is what happens to us older people, and it keeps our lives interesting.). Note: There is something unnatural about traveling in such close quarters and trying to sleep, one of the most intimate and vulnerable times in our daily routine. I am renewing my promise to myself to fly first class at least one time in my life. I hope my pocket book will agree. Two movies later (August Rush and Jane Austen Book Club) the morning finally dawns over the Alps as we begin our descent to the Milan airport.

"I'm Back!"

In the words of the Terminator, "I'm back!" Our group returned to the states from Italy on Sunday at 3:30 p.m. Atlanta time, and we arrived in Indianola at 1:00 a.m. to the open arms of our families. It really goes without saying, but I will say it anyway, we had a great time! No, we had a fantastic time!!!! If I could have a day or two of rest, I would return in a heartbeat. The country was beautiful, the food was great and the fellowship was unmatchable (Is there such a word?). This is a short post to let all my avid readers (yeah, right) know I will be posting my journal little by little with some pics. Overall the weather was great after the first few days of rain and the sites were amazing. The Leaning Tower of Pisa will forever stay etched in my mind; story to follow, and I plan to try cooking every dish I tasted along the way. I think I have some Italian blood running in my veins. There are a few questions I am pondering: Why are there no wash rags in the hotel bathrooms?, Why do the Italian toliets have no handle with which to flush the toliet?, Why is a bath not an everyday routine for the Italians?, Why do the Italians have such beautiful children?, How do the Italians fit in such small cars?, Will the American dollar ever become stablized enough for us not to have to spend $4.50 for a canned coke? Yes, $4.50!!!

Ciao, Baby!

I am trying my best to pack for 10 days in Italy in a carry on bag and a Vera Bradley medium size duffel bag. I can carry a larger bag that can be checked, but I really don't want to bother with luggage claim and all the other million bags that look alike, although I don't have that problem either since my luggage is red, my favorite color. Am I making a big deal out of nothing? Probably so. However, with the help of Chico's travelers, jeans, and Merrills, I am doing pretty good. The problem is that one quart bag that has to hold all the toiletries I have to have for 10 days, along with meds and make-up. Now, I am not a high maintenance girl (maybe that's where Laura gets it from), but come on--a quart bag! One of the Lalis traveled to France last summer for three weeks in a carry on and a quart bag. She is our world traveler and a master at packing, but somewhere I missed out on the lesson about packing in a quart bag. Help Ellen!!!!!

I hope to have some wonderful tales to tell and even better pictures to share when I get back. Say tuned.

Oh, for the record, I'm not really a fatalist, but I did go to see my very special grandsons and daughter and son-in-law this weekend in case there is a reason I might not make it back home. That would be a shame too because they are the best! Lord, I am in Your hands. Thy will be done. Pictures follow.

Am I cute or what?

Poppa hanging out with the boys

Trying out my new rain boots

Also, I stopped by to see my parents--hugs all around, even an offer of money but I turned it down. I know Laura, I' m a dork!!! I've heard it before.

Okay, I posted earlier that I was looking forward to my get together with the Lalis. Well, the Lalis reunion was great. I am very fortunate to have a friend who has a "boat house"* at Lake Caroline in Madison, and we stayed there last week-end. We were short two Lalis, one because of family health problems and one because a commitment she could not shirk. However, the four that were together carried on the esprit de corps. After a wonderful dinner at the Strawberry Cafe in Madison, an establishment I highly recommend, we had an evening of catching up and supporting one of the Lalis over the phone who was not able to come. Every family should be as blessed to have a family member like this Lali, who is selfless enough to take care of a relative who has no one else and she does it, I'm sorry to say, to the detriment of herself. She is in our prayers. Saturday morning we had a leisurely breakfast of homemade cinnamon rolls and cheese grits and three pots of coffee. We left mid-morning for a visit to the museum of art in its new location and took in two wonderful exhibits along with the regular exhibition. If you enjoy art and are in Jackson, please stop to see the High School Academic 2008 exhibit. Our state is blessed with some wonderful young artists in all mediums. We ate lunch at Keifer's and stopped by Eudora Welty's home in the Belhaven area, which was closed but that did not keep us from enjoying the view and the wonderful weather. After a few stops we made it back to the "boat house" for an evening of salad, bread and homemade spaghetti sauce and meatballs, courtesy of my mother-in-law's recipe. She was a wonderful Italian cook, and I have finally have mastered the sauce recipe, at least that's what my family says. Another late night of talking and Sunday morning coffee followed, and we all headed our separate directions, knowing that we will be back together in May for a visit to New Orleans. (At this point let me say how upset I was when I realized I had forgotten my camera. That is not something I do often. So I have no pics of the week-end. However two of my Lali friends do. If I can get to them soon, I will add pics later.)

Now, I know this may sound rather boring, but to us our visit was a source of rejuvenation and the forming of a stronger bond. Since we had been to together last, one Lali has lost her mother and also had an unexpected revelation at the birth of her grandson. Another's daughter is in a search of a job that has been somewhat disappointing after finishing her Doctorate in English and who also is dealing long distant with a mother who is in the mid-stages of dementia/Alzheimer's. Another's husband is overcoming heart problems and she is facing pain from TMJ. The aforementioned Lali is facing evenings of taking care of her aunt after working during the day. One is doing pretty well right now , and I am, too. Because of our visit, many of these situations do not seem as impossible when we have a chance to talk through them and gain from the experiences of the others, and, more importantly, know that we are in each others' prayers. I love you Lalis!!!!

*Boat house may be a missnomer for the place we stayed. Full kitchen, great room, 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, 2 decks, and a wonderful view of Lake Caroline. Nice digs for a boat and the Lalis!