Best Kind of Lost

Another Look at Addis

by Dave

June 23-26

 

It was good to be back. Chris and Lindsay treated us well at their house, as before, with hot showers, food you could trust, Sportscenter… we even got to go see Superman (we’re still trying to find the translation for “letdown” in Ethiopia) at the local movie theatre. We were back and fully immersed in civilization. And we love us some civilization.

Our first task was actually planning the next move of our trip. Kenya? South Africa? Tanzania? We had work to do, and no more time to put it off. Pair the big decision making (South Africa, here we come) with some R&R, and evvvverything started coming together. At 3am on June 25^th (for us, June 24^th for the history books) my eyes were glued to the TV watching game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals live, courtesy of the American Forces Network. (EDITOR’S NOTE: We will not, however, thank the network for choosing not to air commercials, but instead, PSA’s promoting safe sex, how to be a respectful roommate, discouraging soldiers from uploading videos of themselves dancing to the internet …you get the picture…)

To provide some quick background, me and the Hawks are like Will Smith and Martin Lawrence in Bad Boys: We ride together, we die together. And not having access to the outside world to find out what had happened in games 3, 4 and 5 while we were touring the north part of the country was giving me some serious anxiety. I even had dreams about the games while we were gone. It was weird. But once we got back online just before returning to Addis and I found out the Hawks had won both games that I missed, my first priority was finding a way to watch game 6.

So… where was I? Oh, that’s right…. THE HAWKS WON THE CUP!!! Just after 6am Jonathan Toews was hoisting the cup and there was no chance I was going back to sleep. While Chicago was partying in the streets, I was silent fist pumping and pacing with the volume turned low as the sun came up, trying my best not to wake up the rest of the house. I was fired up and ready to go for the rest of the day, which included a proper tour of Addis Ababa. And lucky for us (being the helpless tourists we had become in Ethiopia), Chris and Lindsay had “a guy” for Addis too. His name was Turiku, and he would drive us around his hometown for an afternoon to see a few essential sights to get a better feel for our surroundings, with a colorful running commentary. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Plus, his music taste ran toward Katy Perry and Justin Bieber. And when I sang along, he thanked me for liking “his music.”)

First destination was the Mercato, a giant public market. We were expecting to get out of the car to walk around, like we did in many other local markets in cities we visited, but Turiku made it clear we would stay in the car and we soon understood why. Imagine an area about twice the size of Grant Park in Chicago packed with local vendors selling everything from spices to car parts to medicine to groceries. Now imagine the space between filled with locals (and their donkeys, in some cases) busy buying or hawking their wares having no regard for cars going by, or other pedestrians for that matter, as they made their trades. Our car crawled through the streets. It was a lot to take in, but it had a feel of harmonious chaos (a Monty Bauer-ism) – for outsiders like us it was overwhelming, but you could see there was a method to the madness; just part of their everyday lives. 

After taking our lap, Turiku took us to Tomoca, a place we were told had “the best coffee in Addis,” which was saying something. If there’s one thing Ethiopia does right, it’s coffee, which explains why it’s one of the country’s largest exports. You can find it everywhere, and it is delicious. Tomoca was no exception. We were told we had to order a macchiato (the drink of choice for many locals) before leaving Ethiopia. Their version of the macchiato is just coffee and steamed milk, at least before mounds of sugar are added. We like our coffee black, and whenever we turned down sugar to add, people gave us funny looks as if we were crazy for passing it up. But even sans sugar, the macchiatos and the ambiance at Tomoca were great. And with the quick caffeine boost we were ready for the rest of our tour.

Next stop was National Museum of Ethiopia. This modest looking building reminded me of a college dorm from the outside, but inside it housed that hot 3.2 million-year-old hominin chick, Lucy. Lucy’s ribs and other bone fragments that were unearthed in 1974 were, like the building overall, modestly displayed. I actually walked right past her display case without noticing before Noelle pointed it out. It was cool to see, but not as cool as you’d picture in your head. This was definitely one of those things that we felt like we had to see since we were there, but was more of a box to check off a list than an amazing site we’ll be talking about for any extended period of time. (EDITOR’S NOTE: In fairness, the last museum we visited was the Vacitan…so methinks our expectations were left high?) So yeah – we came for Lucy, we saw Lucy and then we moved on.

The rest of the day included stops at a small town and church atop a hill with a view of the entire city, and a quick drive through the main parts of town. The tour of the little local church was given by an incredibly kind old man, from which we understood nothing as he gave us his 20-minute lecture about the collection of cloaks, crosses and bibles. The interest level is apparent in the number of pictures we took – zero. Our tour ended at the U.S. Embassy, where we were dropped off to meet Chris and Lindsay before heading to our promised traditional Ethiopian dinner. A quick look around proved that it was a sweet place to work, with outdoor courtyards and a spacious cafeteria.

By this time we had acquired an obsession with Ethiopian food, but the restaurant that night also boasted traditional Ethiopian dance. In between shoveling food into our mouths with our hands and enjoying some coffee and honey wine (not nearly as tasty as it may sound), we were treated to traditional dances such as the Gurage. Ethiopians pretty much invented popping and locking, and this dance was filled with it. The men and women on stage move at crazy speeds with short, quick moves that look like they are “popping” and “locking” their joints.

I would never even attempt to do the moves, but I did find it entertaining to see Noelle trying to discreetly mimic the moves from her chair at our table thinking nobody was looking. (EDITOR’S NOTE: I may have be missing this season of So You Think You Can Dance, but by God, I’ll always have Ethiopia…)

Sights seen and stomachs filled, our time in this challenging, but rewarding, country had come to a close. We got a taste of a little bit of everything, from the foods to the cities to the geography, and were ready for the next adventure – South Europe Africa.

Dear Diary, About the Simiens…

by Dave and Noelle

June 19-22

 

Our time in Lalibela and Gondar flew by and was packed with cool sites and interesting history, but we moved so quickly that not all of what we’d seen had sunk in. So what better way to slow things down than to head to the mountains for four days and three nights of hiking and relaxing? Just us, our guides, our thoughts and about a bajillion baboons. The weather was a bit cool and it was rainy season. What could possibly go wrong?

The trek started when our guide picked us up after our short night’s sleep in Gondar and we drove a couple hours to the entrance of Simien Mountains National Park. The park hosts upwards of 17,000 visitors annually, but the bulk of those visitors come earlier in the year when there is less risk of rain (at least leaving us with the least crowded camp sites of the season). Not unlike the rest of our stops in Ethiopia, the Simiens trip was planned with a huge amount of help from Chris, our host in Addis. Of our planned time in Ethiopia, I had been most excited for our time in the Simiens – if for no other reason than Chris’s photos from the region were littered with baboons and Walia Ibex (basically goats, but with massive horns). And if nothing else, this trip revealed an undiscovered obsession of mine… seeing wildlife (EDITOR’S NOTE: Let’s use the term “wildlife” loosely, as this also applies to cows, goats, birds…pretty much any moving creature Dave sees).

The following is a day-by-day account of our first of many times overnighting it in the great outdoors during this trip.

Day 1

Dave says:

About 20 minutes beyond the entrance to the park, we saw a group of a quarter bajillion gelada baboons eating grass and just generally looking funny on the side of the road. Our driver pulled over so we had a chance to snap some photos (what would be about the first 30 of approximately 200 baboon photos I took during the four days… I wish Noelle wishes I was kidding). These things are the best. Completely harmless and endlessly entertaining as they’d make all kinds of noises while picking at grass, jumping around if we got too close. After our photo shoot, we grabbed our daypacks and were on our way. We hiked as a foursome – me, Noelle, Norr (our guide) and Mehabo (our scout… he carried an M16, which is all you need to know). We had about 3 hours of hiking that first day before settling into our campsite, fully equipped with coffee and popcorn waiting when we arrived.

Our 2pm arrival seemed early to be calling it a day, but made complete sense once we witnessed the first day’s downpour. The rain typically comes in the afternoon during this time of year, so beating it to the camp each day saved us from arriving soaking wet. The early finish to the day’s hiking allowed us time to explore the area and take in some views while we waited for what turned out to be the first of three consecutive nights of gorging to the point of discomfort for dinner. This free time also allowed me to overreact to every single bird or animal I saw. All in all, Day 1 was pretty uneventful, but still enjoyable. We were ready for more.

Noelle says:

Gelada baboons. Great views. Dave taking way too many photos of animals. Coffee and popcorn. Everything he said.

Day 2

Dave says:

It was an early start, but for good reason. We had shared our campsite with a handful of other groups, and Norr insisted upon getting out ahead of them so we could set our own pace. And the early start was worth it because… we saw even more gelada baboons. This time they were on the edge of a cliff, and super camera friendly.

After practically being reprimanded for how long it was taking me to take my photos, we continued on and explored more of the scenery. The morning was clear and the scenery was unreal. We walked along cliffs with 3,000 ft faces, and everything was green, one of the benefits of hiking during the start of rainy season.

About 4 hours, half a bajillion baboons, some shepherds, cattle, a river and one giant waterfall later, we had reached our campsite for the night. Gich, as it was named, was situated just above a small village with thatched-roof homes filled with friendly faces smiling as we approached. Even with the cloud cover that stuck around most of our time here, the views up and down the valley were stunning. We were in the middle of nowhere and only shared the campsite with one other group who stayed out of sight, so it felt like we had the whole place to ourselves.

Noelle says:

Day 2 of captivity…

Despite my self-proclaimed “iron stomach” I get what I boasted I wouldn’t in the wee hours of the morning. In a tent the middle of the African mountains. In the pitch black. With the only hope of relief in the form of a hole in the ground, a 5 minute walk into the jungle (fine, it was just bushes, but in the pitch dark, it may have well have been a jungle). Said hole is filled with unspeakable things because the only people using it are people like me, desperation the only motivator to come within 5 feet. Oh, and I have to wake Dave because he’d freak if he woke up and I was gone (being the African jungle and all). Which is fair I guess…but pretty much my nightmare. I hold out for a few hours, staring at the tent ceiling and sweating with each pain, praying for God to take the pain away or at least make it morning so I can sneak off like a wounded animal, no one the wiser. No luck. So yeah. Add one more wave of nausea as dawn breaks, and I descend back into hell.

We hike further into the mountains (because WHERE ELSE CAN I GO…WE’RE IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE/bush), where I have frequent cold sweats and stomach pains, resulting in scampering off IN THE WOODS for my final act of mortification. Or so I thought.

Feeling better back at the next campsite that afternoon, I make one more trip to the NEW hole, equally as disturbing…and MY RIGHT SHOE FALLS IN THE HOLE! Just let that sink in. And don’t ask questions. It just happened. Several tears later back in the tent, Dave climbs abreast his white horse ventures down and finds my shoe miraculously fell on the dry straw to the side (which I didn’t know existed because WHO EVER LOOKS DOWN A PORTAL TO HELL??), so he fashions a hooked pole (MCGUYVER STYLE) and fishes out my clean shoe. All while I lay curled in a ball in my sleeping bag in the tent pretending I’m on Greecian beaches…or really, ANYWHERE ELSE. To recap…sick in front of strangers and new husband, shoe in African toilet hole in middle of jungle, husband retrieves shoe with jungle-made tool. I LOVE THIS MAN (although also am still having trouble making eye contact).

So, there’s that.

Day 3

Dave says:

With the longest day of hiking ahead of us, this morning brought clear skies and comfortable temperatures. We went down the valley from Gich, then back up the other side to the top of Mount Wecantrememberthename – about 12,000 ft above sea level, the highest point during our trip.

As we neared the top, fog rolled in that didn’t let up the rest of the day. There were a handful of stops when Norr turned to us and said “there are great views from here” and all we could see was the shield of fog about 10 feet in front us, giving it’s own unique view. And crazy that we still passed the child shepherds and their herds of cattle, sheep, goats, donkeys and whatever else each of them was responsible for. If you ever think you have lonely working conditions, try keeping track of dozens of animals on a rocky hill in dense fog with nobody to talk to… All. Day. Long.

We reached our campsite around 12:30pm, which again seemed incredibly early to call it a day. But lucky for us, we got there about 15 minutes before it started raining…then thundering…then hailing. We spent a long afternoon passing the time by taking turns at solitaire with Norr, who promptly won about every other hand he played while Noelle and I came up empty. Once the rain stopped we heard from fellow campers that there were wolves nearby and headed out to catch a few pictures from a distance. Normally, hearing “Come out here, there are wolves nearby,” would prompt a response like, “I’m sorry, for a second there it sounded like you were asking me to walk outside to go greet wolves in the wild. Come again…” But these ones were different. Wolves in Ethiopia look like foxes on steroids, and their “howls” sound more like they are yelping in pain. Still cool to see, nonetheless.

Our early stop from the hiking also meant an early dinner and by the time 7:30pm rolled around, we were ready to call it a night and head to the tent. That’s not an exaggeration. We were asleep no later than 8:30pm.

Noelle says:

Everything he said. Four thousandy hours of solitaire. Nauseous all day. No sleep. Wolves Shmolves. Are we done talking about this yet?

Day 4

Dave says:

We had a couple hours to fill before our driver picked us up late morning, which we did with a search for the Walia Ibex.

The weather was perfect, Norr seemed confident and Mohabo, gun in hand, could spot animals from across mountains, so we were feeling optimistic. Zero Ibex and the final quarter bajillion gelada baboons later, we were about to call it quits when we finally found a pack of them down the face of a cliff. The pictures below are on the furthest zoom our camera has, but we were still excited to see them.

It was a great way to wrap up our time in the mountains. Norr and his crew were fun to spend time with and helped us gain an appreciation for everything we saw. It was our first camping trip of the year, and while we enjoyed it, we were definitely ready to get back to civilization. Or at least to Gondar, where we were to spend one more night before returning to Addis. And real beds.

Noelle says:

Sweet, sweet relief. Get me the F out of this place. I need pepto and a soft pillow. And my mommy if you’re asking. Oh, it’s Sunday you say? When the people of Gondar ALSO play music and chant through the night and sleep will be merely a temptress just out of reach?

Simiens? We are never, ever getting back together. Like ever.

Our Ethiopian History Lesson

by Noelle

June 17 – 19

 

Before we get to the aforementioned scarring experience, first we learn our history. Now THIS is what you expect from one of the oldest countries in Africa – churches, castles, tales of terrible Emperors and pious heroes. Lalibela, where 11 monolithic rock-hewn churches rule the main area of town, and Gondar, nicknamed “The Camelot of Africa” due to the group of royal castles, were both incredibly cool places to see firsthand.

Our adventure started in Lalibela, a quick flight from Addis, where our arrival was the sole plane at the airport. Coming from our main references – O’Hare, LA and NYC’s airports – this struck us as hilarious. Boarding is a free for all, with everyone literally pushing to get to the plane first (first come, first served, Southwest Airlines-style). As you may imagine, this is where my competitive side kicks in, and Dave has to hold me back from smack talking the businessman who PUSHED (!) me aside at the front of the line.

Lalibela’s rock-hewn churches were built 900 years ago, and have been the destination of hundreds of thousands of pilgrims. Each is home to a holy, hand-held bronze cross, displayed upon request. The services to this day continue for hours. The priests beat drums, rattle sistrums, dance and sing, so perhaps the time passes quickly? If not, there are crutch-like poles, which we were told (in whispered confidence) are at times used for short naps.

It’s mind-blowing to picture the architects and builders of that time creating these structures from ONE ROCK. Think about it – they used chisels, hammers and ancient levels to carve DOWN into the earth, creating these masterpieces. It’s such an incredible feat for a country that STILL doesn’t have safe drinking water or any sort of modern developments. Our favorite was the church dedicated to Ethiopia’s patron saint, Saint George. It is visually stunning, especially from above – a Greek cross dug in a deep square pit. As it happens, we’ve become well acquainted with World Heritage sites in the past few months, and these churches quickly jumped to the top of that list of UNESCO sites. The relatively unattractive protective roofs, while doing wonders for the preservation of the buildings, detract from the natural state of the churches.

Lunch brought us our first encounter with authentic Ethiopian food, mainly revolving around injera, a starchy-flat-almost-soggy bread substitute that is used in place of silverware, to soak up the array of sauces, spicy spreads, vegetables and diced meat. Eating the spread with your hands can only be described as fulfilling the desire of the 10-year-old inside of us. OH – and it’s freaking delicious.

Back to the tour, our guide, a friend of Chris and Lindsay (the U.S. friends we stayed with in Addis, for those who aren’t reading all our posts. Btw, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?? Hmmmmmm?), was the MAN. Born in Lalibela, Belay was an incredible resource on the history of his hometown. We were happy to have had such a kind, passionate guide as we toured the dusty roads. Although tourism is a rapidly growing industry there, we were – along with the two other Americans who came with us from Addis – the ONLY non-Ethiopians we saw during our stay.

Along the way, Belay shared that with over 17,000 people living in Lalibela, he found it surprising there wasn’t more passion around furthering technology and development. In agreement with his assessment, we were taken by the juxtaposition of impoverished, cloth-clad locals and their fellow pedestrians wearing graphic tees and collard shirts. It was confusing, and made me wonder how much of the simply-built homes and dusty, barely-driveable roads were by choice as opposed to forced circumstances.

Our hotel was definitely made for visitors to the city, with hot showers and killer views from each balcony. Our dinner pick was something out of a Dr. Suess book as the four of us visited the Scottish-chef-owned restaurant overlooking the mountains in every direction. We enjoyed a few of the local St. George beers (tasty, light brews) and the African sunset, feeling relatively at home in a city so out of our element.

On to Gondar.

As we exited the airport after our 30-minute flight, we followed the man holding a sign with our names, assuming he was the guide we were expecting. After asking him to confirm, he responded with silence. While disconcerting, we climbed in his car because WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GOING TO DO, YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF AFRICA. (sorry, mom.) Turns out, it was the right taxi guy, just limited English. We met our guide upon arrival at the hotel. Crisis averted.

We once again felt like the odd men man and woman out in Gondar (even losing our other twosome as they ventured into the hills of Lalibela for some hiking), and as we made our way to our hotel (again, a comfy accommodation arranged by our U.S. friends), we realized what a rare feeling it was for both of us. Even with many international travels between us, we were used to being surrounded by other tourists, but here, we were stared at (in the better moments, called at in others) as we ventured out to wander the city on our own. Once. It was that awkward.

Our local guide, Tamirat, was another passionate, intelligent and funny resource, with a masters in Tourism. He took us first to Selassie Church (me entering from a separate door for women). Asking us to lay on the ground (But Tamirat, we just met….), he had us stare at the ceiling paintings of the angels, just as original worshipers had done for inspiration. The walls were covered with stories from the bible, and as he took us through each one, they came to life, and you could see how large a part religion played in Gondar. After asking about his personal religion, Tamirat shared that he had left the Orthodox Christian church shortly after his studies as he pursued the Protestant faith. His mother kicked him out, only forgiving him recently and welcoming him back home (blood seems to trump religion with moms every time). Note it is also common for children to live with their parents well into middle age, if not permanently. With the funky way land-ownership works there, it may be that they are unable to get their own space, so families tend to live on top of one another (EDITOR’S NOTE: I wish I’d known of this story to use as my excuse for moving home after college. That was totally why I did it…).

Next (via sexy Tuk-Tuk), we visited the ruins of a few 17^th and 18^th century castles, beautiful, crumbling structures, not showing a drop of the influence the Italian occupation of the late 1930s left on the downtown neighborhood. A cool contrast. And another incredible day in a city we had never even HEARD of before this trip. This was a moment which, despite being a bit uncomfortable, had proven to be one of the experiences we had most looked forward to as we began our adventure. So few people had seen what we were witnessing – giving you a quick punch to the gut of realization about how small a part of the world you really are.

And again – THE FOOD. We had a seriously amazing dining experience at Four Sisters, a joint run by (surprise) 4 sisters, where incense and live music assault the senses as you enter. (EDITOR’S NOTE: The music Noelle refers to only started after a man at the front gate of the restaurant blew what we eventually referred to as the “tourist horn” to alert the musician to start playing as we approached the door… so there was that.) Before the meal even begins, they bring around roasted coffee beans by the table to entice your sense of smell, before you devour in a HUGE “Fasting Plate” which consists of the spreads and vegetables I mentioned earlier, and enough injera to sop it all up. A side of Tibs (be it beef, lamb, etc) to roll into each bite put us in a food coma. Finishing the meal with rich, Ethiopian coffee made us happy people.

On full stomachs, we returned to the hotel and slept happily ever after.

NOT!

We happened to be in the city on St. Michael’s Day. Which means they chant and play music throughout the city all night long, ALLNIGHTLONG. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Shut the doors and windows you say? The 1-inch gap beneath the door and unsealed windows refused to make it that easy.) So after vowing to buy earplugs at the next possible moment, we tossed and turned and got a fitful night of sleep. Perhaps a foreboding sign of what was to come on our trek through the Simien Mountains starting the very next day…?

A Soft Landing in the Third World

by Dave

June 13-16

 

And so it began. Africa.

As we left Italy I felt like I was stuckinaglasscaseofemotion – a little down on our Western Europe leg of the trip coming to a close, but also excited and nervous about moving to the next continent on our itinerary: Africa. The first 50 or so days were amazing, but if we’re being honest it was really just a way for us to ease into life on the road. Europe is, in many ways, a mirror image of the U.S. lifestyle we have grown accustomed. It was familiar. It was comfortable. (EDITOR’S NOTE: …and as you’ll recall, I spoke fluent Italian) But now we were about to leave that familiar, comfortable world and go to Ethiopia. It was about to get real.

How real? We’re talking staying in a house with 24-hour security on the grounds, a house cook who would do our laundry, a dog that would hang with us on the couch, and access to ESPN for the first time since leaving the motherland. I know what you’re thinking – “Ermergerd!!! How did you survive?!?!?”

This seamless transition into an unfamiliar land was facilitated by friends who have spent about two years working for the U.S. Embassy in Ethiopia’s capitol city, Addis Ababa. So instead of having to find a budget-friendly hotel or hostel and crossing our fingers in hopes that it would be clean and we weren’t getting ripped off, we were graciously welcomed to Addis by Chris and Lindsay into their home.

They were pretty much the sole reason we ended up in Ethiopia. Prior to broaching the subject of visiting with Chris months earlier, I knew nearly nothing about the country. It’s not exactly one of the top tourist stops in Africa for most people. So in the spirit of helping our vast audience of loyal readers friends, family and a few former co-workers learn up on this not-so-frequently-visited country in northeast Africa, here’s a quick list of facts about Ethiopia:

• In the capital city, Addis Ababa, there are only two working traffic lights. And even then, it’s basically optional whether or not you obey them.
• There are goats, sheep, donkeys, cows, horses and many other animals that wander around the streets of major cities and rural areas alike. You name it, it probably has crossed a road in Ethiopia. And if you hit one that darts in front of your car, the situation is resolved by promptly paying the owner for the animal on the spot.
• It’s also commonplace for cars to share the highways with adults and children who treat it as a sidewalk and playground.
• Addis Ababa is more than 7,500 feet above sea level (which took our midwestern lungs a bit of getting used to), as is much of the northern part of the country. However, Ethiopia also owns the claim to the lowest point in Africa (and second lowest on earth) at Lake Assal in the Danakil Depression.
• You can count on one hand finger the number of freshwater lakes in the country that you can swim in without being at risk of contracting Bilharzia.

We arrived with about two weeks of activities and excursions planned which included exploring Addis and then heading north to visit the “major” cities of Lalibela and Gondar, followed by four days of trekking in the Simien Mountains.

But to first acclimate ourselves to this new country before we headed north from the capital, we got to join our hosts for a weekend of camping on the shores of Lake Langano (the one freshwater lake noted above that you can actually swim in without acquiring a disease). It was a three and a half hour drive from Addis, and was also the first time Noelle and I really ventured outside the friendly confines of Chris and Lindsay’s home in 24 hours. With the creature comforts we’d enjoyed there (EDITOR’S NOTE: a couch! a spacious living room! endless internet access! a kitchen!) it was easy to forget our surroundings until we saw donkeys carrying loads of hay along the road, horses pulling men on make-shift carriages in the slow lane on the highway, small tuk-tuks driving along the shoulder and tin roofed and walled roadside huts selling locally made goods or foods.

 

This was the “outside our comfort zone” we hadn’t yet been exposed to, but we quickly returned to the comforts of familiarity as we arrived at the U.S. Embassy’s campsite at Langano – complete with a fully functional kitchen and dining area and A-frame roofs covering our tent (which came in handy during a pretty awesome thunderstorm our second night there).

Chris, Lindsay and their friends spoiled us with food they’d each prepared before we arrived, and we spent the rest of our time, swimming, reading and relaxing. (EDITOR’S NOTE: YAY!  Our first chance to spend time withe real US newspaper! No mind that the crisp New York Times you see in my hands was 2 weeks old, courtesy of the much-delayed mail delivery they’ve become accustomed to.) Each night ended with a campfire and some drinks. Life was good.

All in all, I’d say we felt almost like we were cheating with how easy our first few days in Ethiopia were for us. But that would soon change as we boarded a plane to spend a week without the comforts our American hosts provided. (EDITOR’S NOTE: COMMENCE PROJECT PERMANENT NOELLE-SCARRING…read on and you’ll know….oh, you’ll know…).

Dolce Pazzia in Roma

by Noelle

June 8 – 12

 

We took a mantra of “when in Rome…do EVERYTHING” to heart during our quick, 4-day trip to Rome. In many cities, 4 days would be more than enough (we’re talking about you, Knysna, South Africa…we’ll get to that later), but in Rome we knew we could fill every one of the 96 hours, and then some.

So, VIVA ROMA! Seriously – this place is amazing. Dave’s first trip, and my second, this city didn’t disappoint for either of us. I specifically remember the awe I felt the first time I turned the corner and found myself standing face to face with the larger-than-life Pantheon, and that same feeling struck me 6 years later. You can’t help but be taken by the pure history that spans two and a half thousand years. The Coliseum, Vatican and St. Peter’s Basilica, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, the Roman Forum, Pantheon, the Jewish Quarter and the dozens of hidden piazzas to explore…everything you behold is thousands of years old. They are currently doing construction to add another stop to their underground train, and they have to stop every few days because they KEEP HITTING ROMAN RUINS.  It’s impossible not to be impressed. Bottom line? Get ready for a photo-heavy post.

Our first full day happened to be a Sunday, the day that the Pope addresses the crowd from a balcony in St. Peter’s Square. No, we’re not Catholic, but if you have a chance to see the Pope in person, you take it. After elbowing our way as close to

his window as possible (apologies to the Polish grandma I took out mid-square, but you know you were taking up more than your fair share of space, so we’ll call it even), we sat through the mini-service, nodding along to Pope Francis’s stream of Italian liturgy, taking that time instead to covertly people watch. There were HUNDREDS of people crowded into the square, just hoping for a glimpse of the new religious leader. It was crazy. Young, old, male, female, African, Swedish, American, Italian – people had traveled oceans to catch a glimpse. The Pope is a rockstar.

Throughout the next few days, we hit the usual sight-seeing suspects. The Coliseum, built in 80 AD, was every bit of awesome as I remembered, and a peek at the exposed underground corridors that once housed thousands of wild animals and Gladiators (EDITOR’S NOTE: Like, maybe Russell Crowe… for example*) before they rose into the ring for their battles (EDITOR’S NOTE: Against, like, maybe Jaoquin Phoenix… for example**), gave us a glimpse at how different life was then. The emperor built the arena with a political agenda in mind, hosting free “games” every day in order to keep the people happy and distracted from all the civil unrest.

Daily, more than 50,000 would crowd the amphitheatre to watch public spectacles like mock sea battles (filling the coliseum with water), animal hunts (at one time hunting 11,000 animals from the African wild), executions, re-enactments of famous battles…totally like live theatre here. Oh, except they ACTUALLY KILLED PEOPLE. I put Dave on camera duty to distract him. It was all I could do to ensure we avoided the awkward moment of him shouting, “ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?***” as we took in the view. (EDITOR’S NOTE:  Are you not entertained?!?!?!****)

It was cool to learn that within the year, the road around the Coliseum will be closed to traffic, becoming a pedestrian walkway. The fact that they’ve allowed bus and car traffic so close to one of the most notable pieces of history for so long is shocking. You can see what the pollution has done to the road-side walls. Should be much more pleasant (and white) to visit in years to come. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Are…you…not…entertained?!?!?!*****)

The Vatican was beautiful; the frescos by Michelangelo and Raphael striking a chord with us as we roamed endless rooms showcasing priceless works of art. Not an inch of space went unpainted in the Sistine Chapel (no photos allowed…a rule instituted by the Vatican, enforced by my husband. You take onneeeeeee “illegal photo” of the David and noooooo one trusts you.), and the beauty of his storytelling through art literally took our breath away. Picturing Michelangelo working tirelessly as he painted famous biblical scenes, staring at the ceiling for FOUR YEARS (he refused to have help as he worked) was absolutely inspiring. Not to start painting (I like to say, I’m ‘creative’ not ‘artistic’), but to stop complaining when after a few moments of stargazing, my neck aches. Respect, Mikey.

A hike through some seriously narrow (and strangely, severely slanted) hallways and stairwells made us feel like Robert Langdon (it all comes back to DaVinci Code) and brought us to the roof of St. Peter’s Basilica, giving us cool, rare views of the city.

 

One of my favorite details was the post office box. Vatican City is its own state, so, has its own postal service, run by the Swiss. If you get a chance to visit, impress your friends and family by mailing a postcard back home direct from the Vatican, complete with the rare postmark. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Is this not why you are he… wait, we’re done with the Coliseum? As you were…******)

*In unrelated news,

**we totally

***watched Gladiator

****upon leaving Rome.

*****And it?

******Was AWESOME.

After fighting the waves of tourists during our day touring, we used the evenings for return visits to several landmarks. A midnight visit to Trevi Fountain found us tossing coins over our shoulders into the cool waters, ensuring a return trip to Rome, and were shortly after rewarded by catching a nervous-looking young man drop to one knee and propose to his lady. Predictable, maybe, but the romantic in me melted.  Well done, dude. Next, lounging on the fountain steps in front of the Pantheon proved for good stargazing as well (neck aches and all), and a Coliseum visit showed us the magic of the huge arena lit up in the dark.

While the Eternal City has more history than almost any other city out there, I’d be remiss not to give some quality real estate to the food. Unbelievable, glorious food. Below are some highlights.

When we weren’t busy eating our way through the city or staring at Roman ruins, we were in search of what we like doing best – quiet parks to read and/or outdoor markets to sample local fare. We found success in Campo di Fiori, proving to be one of the best markets we’ve encountered. Starting our visit with an almost too-sweet treat of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice (WHY ISN’T THIS MORE OF A THING AT HOME? IT’S DELICIOUS!), and moving on to sampling local balsamics and olive oils and munching on fresh fruits, we were in farmer’s market heaven. A break for lunch – porchetta sandwiches – on the steps of the center statue left us happy campers.

Another afternoon found us wandering up Aventine Hill in search of one of the city’s best kept secrets (for now, at least) – the Knights of Malta Keyhole. A pleasant walk reaps a HUGE reward with an amazing view of Rome through they tiny keyhole. Tip: use the footpath Via San Sabina to Piazza Cavalieri di Malta. Added bonus? It was near a local park, where we took some time to slow down and catch up on some reading. We’ve learned to travel with our blanket for JUST this occasion!

Hanging in one of the many cafes we passed was a sign: “Dolce Pazzia” – sweet madness – perfectly summing up our time in Italy. We were reluctant to leave Europe (for now), but were excited to start the next chapter of our adventure: Africa! 

Amalfi Coasting

by Dave

June 1-8

 

After tying a bow on what we later found out was the coldest May in Italy in more than 20 years (no joke), we needed to find a place that would allow us to wear something other than pants and long sleeves. Fast. Noelle will be the first to tell you (whether you ask her or not) that we did not pack the right clothes to accommodate the cold weather, so we needed to head south if I wanted to come home alive at the end of all this to warm up (ironically, as I write this we are sitting in front of a fire at our B&B in South Africa since it’s somewhere near 40 degrees outside. These weather details fell through the cracks somehow in our planning. Guess whose fault that was? If I don’t make it home, tell my family I love them…). Destination: Positano. (EDITOR’S NOTE: I packed one – ONE – long-sleeved shirt. WTF??)

But before we got to our beach town on the Amalfi Coast, we made a quick detour to Naples – known for its incredible pizza, among many less flattering descriptions. Everyone we talked to who has been to Italy told us that we had to go here for the pizza, but should not stay for anything else. Some of the other things we heard… “DO NOT drive in Naples under any circumstances”… “It’s a dirty city”… “Don’t take the red pill”… “Watch out for pickpocketers.” One of those things was actually never said (I’ll let you be the judge), but everything else was spot on. Just to set the scene, we had been up since 5am, spent 6 hours on a train and were walking around a city we were unfamiliar with while carrying our large packs. And it was hot. And it rained. What could possibly get under my skin in those circumstances, right? Where to start… the no-rules driving (stop lights, street signs and avoiding pedestrians are just suggestions apparently, not rules); the sidewalk vendors incessantly hawking sunglasses, purses or shoes; the sketchy looking men locking eyes on our bags every block. So yeah, that was nice.

But in the end, the margherita pizza we found was the antidote to avoiding a rage blackout and made all the trouble worth it (sort of). I don’t really know how to explain it, other than saying it was plain and simply the best pizza I’ve ever had.

And then we were on our way to the Amalfi Coast. A train and two bus rides later we arrived at Villa Sofia, a quaint little B&B in Nocelle (the neighborhood in the hills behind Positano). It turned out better than we could have even hoped, and the views had a lot to do with it. This was the view from right outside our bedroom:

Luciana, our host, kindly greeted us with coffee and some snacks in her living room (she and her family lived a couple floors above the room we rented). Her father built this place himself, which is an impressive feat when you see it from afar and realize it’s essentially at the top of a cliff.

We had booked seven nights here so we wanted to fill up the week with some fun activities in the area, but also make sure we didn’t plan too much so we could fit in a few lazy days at the beach (sounds like such a challenging predicament, I know). First thing on the agenda was exploring Nocelle. About 15 minutes after deciding we’d do this, we had already seen everything. There are two restaurants, one small food store, a few B&B’s and a sidewalk that runs down the middle. Oh, and they have some mules. But nothing more, nothing less.

Then it was time to go down the hill to explore Positano. To get down we had the option of waiting for a bus that comes every other hour, or walking down about 2,000 steps from Villa Sofia. That’s not an exaggeration. We counted them. On the way down, not so bad. On the way up…

IT (I can’t see through the sweat in my eyes)…

WAS (hold on a sec let me catch my breath)…

SO (seriously stop, I need a break)…

FRIGGIN’ (I think I might get sick)…

EXHAUSTING (pretty sure I just threw up in my mouth).

 

Positano itself was glorious though. After a not-too-optimistic forecast for the week, the weather was great and we got ample time to lounge on the beach in between beers and paninis. But part of the fun of being on the Amalfi Coast is seeing it from the sea and exploring the other coastal towns. Positano is nestled nicely in the middle of the coast. To our west was Capri (so hot right now) and Sorrento. To our east, Praiano and Amalfi. We opted to head east, taking a ferry past Praiano to Amalfi. The views of the coast with mountains and hills reminded us a bit of Cinque Terre. Once we got off the ferry, we did what was familiar – ate gelato, found a panini and sat on the beach.

After the food settled, we took a rollercoaster bus up the world’s windiest road with the world’s smallest guardrails up to Bomerano to find the start of the Path of the Gods.Slightly disappointed that this didn’t mean literally climbing a stairway to heaven with guitars blaring the whole way up (EDITOR’S NOTE: Him.), we got off the bus and immediately had no idea where to go. For being the starting point of the most popular hike on the Amalfi Coast, Bomerano definitely hasn’t made much of an effort to explain where to go from the bus stop. No problem though, we totally were fluent in Italian after the last few weeks. And after struggling through a painful half-English / half-Italian conversation with a gas station attendant, we found the start of the hike and lucked out with the clouds staying at bay throughout the whole thing.The weather was perfect. Let me clarify that for you:

Per-fect weath-er (pur-fikt weth-er)

adjective, noun

1. A time in which it’s warm enough that Noelle cannot justifiably (a completely relative term) complain that it’s not hot enough, and in which Dave overheats and sweats but not uncontrollably.
   • Used in a sentence: “We had perfect weather – Noelle skipped in the sunshine while Dave trailed behind, wiping sweat from his brow and soaking up the sweat from his mustache and beard with his shirt while maintaining a straight face or a smile.”

(EDITOR’S NOTE: I refuse to apologize for having what can only be considered a normal internal temperature. Sorry I’m not sorry.)

The views were phenomenal, and we practically had the whole trail to ourselves.

Our only other venture outside of Positano was a return to Amalfi. It was my turn for Date Night, and I had intended to continue onto the small town of Ravello, but after arriving, quickly realized that the bus and ferry schedules wouldn’t allow us to make it back to Positano before the morning. But that didn’t stop us from going back to the wine, cheese, bread (and meat and pesto this time) plan while taking in the sunset from the ferry port. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Lucky for him I’m a sucker for cheese. And wine. And sunsets.)

After soaking up as much sun as possible and finding a good balance of exploring (always Noelle’s idea) and “taking it easy” (always my idea), we felt like we’d seen all we had to see in Positano. Unable to hold back the “When in Rome” jokes, we headed north to the Eternal City to wrap up our time in Italy.

Bauers’ Greatest Hits – May

by Noelle and Dave

 

Due to all the amazing moments we seem to be racking up, we figured we’d track our favorites each month as to not forget what most captured our hearts along the way. We’ll compile our lists independently, only sharing with each other when we’re ready to post (this should be interesting). Here’s what tops the list for May (yes we realize we’re a month behind, but we’ve been IN AFRICA – more on that later – so cut us some slack. kthxbai):

 

She Says:

10. Our long-awaited meal at  quirky Quimet y Quimet in Barcelona. The fourth generation of the Quim family works behind the counter in a space about the size of a standard living room, and with over 100 montaditos, we had to pace ourselves. After sampling more than half a dozen (including the pâté, per Mr. Quim’s recommendation), the smoked salmon, yogurt and honey won our hearts (and stomachs!).

9. Hiking the panoramic hiking trail from Manarola to Corniglia in Cinque Terre. It was a three hours of endless steps, winding forest paths and INSANE coastal views. While originally mourning the easy coastal path that was swept away in the 2011 landslides, we realized this gave us the opportunity for a whole new set of views.

8. Enjoying a bottle (or 2) of sparking pink champagne and, well, whatever they served us, at “La Champaneria” – a hidden gem in La Barceloneta, Barcelona’s beach neighborhood nestled on the Mediterranean. Standing room only (with orders being shouted in every direction), you couldn’t help but make conversation with strangers each way you turned.

7. Watching the Lucca sunset from the top of the grassy city walls. After watching Dave struggle endlessly to open our bottle of wine with our teeny-tiny travel corkscrew (and pouring our reward into the verysame plastic coffee mugs from our flight to Europe – thanks Iberia Airlines!), we settled in for the stunning views. Our spontaneous trip to the Medieval town gave me confidence in the rest of our time – and helped me remember that sometimes it’s okay to deviate from “the plan” – it could lead to many more sunsets like these!

6. Spending an afternoon reading on the benches in the sprawling Plaza de España in Seville. Perfect weather, the quiet buzz of a sleepy city  and my handsome husband by my side set the scene.

5. Skyping with my mom from our outdoor deck in Cinque Terre. Chatting face-to-face with one of my very most favorite people ever halfway across the world, all while taking in breathtaking views of the Italian Riviera, made me realize I could make it through the year away.

4. Our date with The Butcher in Panzano. That meal-of-many-meats in Tuscany will go down as one of the most memorable eating experiences of my life. As will the night’s sleep in the car, but that goes on a different kind of list.

3. Watching the sun set over Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo with Dave was one of the most romantic moments I’ve ever had. The meal that I’d been waiting 6 years to have again at La Giostra that followed was just icing (or rather brie-filled ravioli) on the cake!

2. Soaking in the sun over a bottle of  red wine, cheese and bread on a blanket in Barcelona’s Parc de la Ciutadella during our first week away. Realizing this is really real.

1. Looking at Dave as we headed to the airport on May 1. Despite wearing a backpack that was about the same size as me, I couldn’t stop smiling at him. I couldn’t believe we were starting the adventure it seemed like we’d been planning since we met. IT WAS HERE. And I was on it with the only person in the whole world I could imagine.

 

He Says:

10. Growing out my beard. Because duh.

9. Our road trip to Ronda, Spain. It was our first time in a rental car so the drive though Andalucia alone was worth it, but Ronda turned out to be one of our favorite cities and was a perfect place to spend a day.

8. Reading our books and having beers at Plaza del Salvador in Seville. We lucked out with our apartment rental and were right above a bustling local bar that seemed to be hosting countless bachelor and bachelorette parties on this sunny day, providing great people watching and entertainment between sips and page turns.

7. Hiking from Manarola to Corniglia in Cinque Terre, Italy. In between dry heaving catching my breath and sweating profusely, this hike offered breathtaking views of the Italian coastline on our first full day of exploring what became one of our favorite stops in May.

6. Buying local meat, fruit and veggies at the Siena farmers market for a homemade dinner. After indulging at plenty of Italian eateries, it felt great to go out to sample and buy some delicious local food and then come back to our rented apartment for a nice night in for a much needed attempt at making it feel more like home.

5. The food in Barcelona – more specifically our meals at La Champaneria and Quimet y Quimet. Apparently eating while standing and holding a glass of cava is our thing. Both spots (along with many others around our favorite city so far) paired unique ambiance with their delicious foods.

4. The steak dinner  we had in Panzano, Italy that trumps all other steak dinners. I could go on forever about this…. oh right, I did already. Read more here.

3. Going to a FC Barcelona match at Camp Nou. This was on my sports bucket list, and it did not disappoint. It was 50/50 whether or not Lionel Messi was going to play as he recovered from an injury, but lucky for us he made a dramatic second half entrance and netted two goals to secure a 4-2 victory.

2. Wine, cheese and bread in Parc de la Ciutadella in Barcelona. This combo quickly became a staple of our first month, but this first time stands out as one of the first times it really started to sink in that me and m’lady would be doing things just like this for an entire year together.

1. The, surreal, terrifying and nerveracking excitement before our first flight May 1st. It was a familiar commute I’d done many times, but never before while wearing two backpacks and watching Noelle do the same. While part of me was wondering what the heck we were getting ourselves into,  I couldn’t wait to get started to see what we had ahead of us.

 

Well, looks like keeping our tenets of food, wine and views a priority will serve us well! The rest of the year certainly has its work cut out for it. Hope it can handle the pressure.

xoxo,

The Bauers

Exactly What You Think Tuscany Wine Country Would Be

by Noelle

May 31

 

With a few days left of our time in Tuscany, we’d be remiss not to venture out a bit further into the hills. So, full of meat (for context, check out our post about dinner the night before here – otherwise, ew) we piled back into the trusty Panda and set off for a road trip to our top two destinations – selected after much deliberation (Because seriously? There are dozens, and no wrong answers). You know how they say sometimes it’s about the journey? The vistas proved this may be one of those times. (EDITOR’S NOTE: You know how they say sometimes curvy roads can cause nausea for passengers? No? Ask Noelle.)

A short stop in Montepulciano gave us breathtaking views, melty pizza and prosciutto and truffle sandwiches near the church of Santa Maria delle Grazia. Sitting high on a limestone ridge, the medieval and Renaissance hill town is mainly car-free, and it’s quaint vibe had us regretting our quick progression. (Cool side note: Twilight’s New Moon Volturi scenes were filmed in Montepulciano as a stand in for the Italian City of Volterra. I KNOW! NOW you care.).

Next, we made our way up to Montalcino, where we wandered the streets of this walled city, quickly making our first stop at the ever-convenient Enoteca Di Piazza, with over 100 wines from area vineyards available for sampling. Their signature? Brunello di Montalcino.,. of course. After fighting the clerk for one last pull a few sips of different varieties, we made for our next stop: the largest vineyard in the area, Castello Banfi.

Screw the journey, this destination rocks

Traveling down winding dirt roads to the palace-looking estate we stepped into an episode of Gossip Girl, where I was told we’d be summering with my rich great-uncle who lived in the former medieval fortress. After tossing my hair and adjusting my pearls, I told them I’d only be comfortable in their largest suite and I’d expect a room temperature glass of red and strawberries upon settling in. Waking from my daydream by a shake from Dave (EDITOR’S NOTE: Just to clarify, I do not shake my wife.), I emerged from the dusty Panda and adjusted my jammies from the night before fresh attire before heading inside. Upon arrival, we were ushered to the sprawling mahogany bar, where their vineyard coat of arms decorated the back wall, we sampled their signature wines (Dave’s favorite, the “Super Tuscan;” mine, the Brunello Di Montalcino), followed by a tour of the incredible grounds. The Mariani family established Castello Banfi in 1978, with over 7,100 acres of property – the vineyards only cover a third.

Our favorite part of the tour was a walk down the hall where they store their largest barrels, each holding 16,000 bottles of wine. So obviously we hoisted one on Dave’s back and made for the hills politely took a photo opp next to the giants.

Bottom line – nothing NOT to love. The drive through the endless rolling hills truly was amazing, living up to everything we had expected. There were moments where to one side, we’d see a storm rolling past, and to our right, spotless blue skies. Memories, made. Time to head south.

Red Wine, Red Meat and a Black Panda

by Dave

May 30

 

Noelle woman. Woman drink wine, write pretty. Me man. Me eat meat and spread word.

If you use the Google to search “Tuscany public transportation” you’ll likely quickly find out that renting a car is the only way to travel the region (and if you find otherwise, please refrain from telling us). So after our stubborn efforts to prove the internet wrong by finding easy buses or trains through Tuscany from Siena, we caved and rented a Fiat Panda.

Commonly referred to (by us at least) as the Honda Accord of Europe because of its underwhelming appearance and the abundant number on the road, the Panda proved short on luxury (read: broken A/C vent and missing hubcap) but long on character. And its name is Panda, so there’s that. And while it’s normally limited to a transportation vehicle, we decided to take it a step further and make it into a mobile hotel room for a night (more on that later).

Call it a car, call it a hotel, call it a spaceship – it doesn’t matter. It was just a means of transportation to steak heaven, which, as it turns out, is located in Panzano, Italy. The Antica Macelleria Cecchini is a butchery nestled into this small Tuscan town, and Dario Cecchini is the object of my man crush the famed butcher that runs the show. Noelle gives me a hard time about this, but I often will express how I feel about certain people by saying that they’d make a great neighbor. (EDITOR’S NOTE: His exact words? “I want to be neighbors with that guy,” an honor bestowed exclusively to cranky old men or those with keen barbecue skills and/or appreciation for meat preparation.) And Dario and his wife, Kim, shot up near the top of my desired neighbors list after the night described below. (EDITOR’S NOTE: See? Meat.) Great people.

As you walk through the gates of heaven into the butchery, instead of church bells ringing, the steak God prefers AC/DC. Mood set. We discovered this meat lover’s fantasy dinner from an acquaintance’s post on Facebook (EDITOR’S NOTE: Despite what people say about you and your creepy ways, Facebook, we totally get you), and with our overwhelming excitement and anticipation we arrived an hour early for our reservation – marking the first time EVER that we’ve been early somewhere since I met Noelle. We parked the Panda in its home for the night and were invited to indulge in some apertivo as soon as we walked in. One of Dario’s assistants promptly greeted us with two glasses that were quickly filled with the house red wine before we were ushered toward the immaculate spread of meats, breads and cheeses to nom on before the main event. We “took it easy” on the apps to save room for our meat paired with meat paired with meat that was awaiting us.

The set dinner menu includes beef tartar, seared beef, bone-in ribeye, Panzanese steak, and t-bone. The last two were basically the largest pieces of meat you’ve ever seen in your life. Seconds and thirds were offered and accepted. Man=happy.

Served alongside the parade of protein was bottomless house red wine (EDITOR’S NOTE: Woman=happy!).

An assortment of raw veggies went untouched, except perhaps by the weak (we see you, French family). After the hypnosis by meat subsided, we realized we were surrounded by 20 other humans, and decided a friendly next step would be to acknowledge and speak to them. What happened next was your classic case of “Americans meet Germans with same last name on trip to Italy.” Just classic. And just as I’d always hoped/imagined, our German counterparts work for Porsche. They were a great couple (did I mention they work for Porsche?!?!) to share the experience with, and by the end of the meal, we agreed that next May we’ll be reuniting right back in Panzano over the world’s largest steak dinner once again.

And as if gorging on unhealthy amounts of red meat wasn’t enough to prove our commitment to enjoying this dinner to the fullest, with no available nearby accommodations and enough red wine to keep us off four wheels, our magic school bus Panda parked right outside became our cozy inn for the evening (1 star for comfort, 5 stars for location). After a miserable night of sleep we immediately regretted our budget friendly decision to bunk up in the Panda were ready to explore more of Tuscany for wine tasting. Woman write about here.

My Kind of Town, Siena is…

by Noelle

May 25 – 30

 

As we strolled down the streets of the picturesque Tuscan town of Siena on our first evening, we were reminded of Frank Sinatra’s serenade of the original city of our hearts – Chicago. But we found ourselves amending the lyrics as we took in this country-meets-city medieval treasure, and it takes our #2 spot of “places we could live” from our itinerary  to date (Barcelona remains the first).

The city is likely most famous for the incredible 400-year tradition of Il Palio, a horse race through the city streets. Picture this: You find yourself being swept along as thousands of bodies make their way through the narrow streets to the vast Piazza del Campo, a huge plaza ringed with towers, restaurants and shops. You smell the dirt that has been laid tirelessly for weeks atop the brick and stone streets to create the lopsided oval track that will soon be filled with the thundering sounds of hooves. Flags representing the 17 “contrades,” or neighborhoods, wave proudly above your head, with bold colors and pictures of giraffes, unicorns, porcupines and owls filling the sky. Friendly (for the most part) barbs are traded between the men of rival contrades, and hidden away, the jockey soothes his horse, as much for himself as his mount, as they gear up for the biggest event of the year. As the horses storm the track, pedestrians jump back and then surge forward again as the adrenaline of the 90-second race builds. The cheers are deafening, and after half the horses go down on the infamously dangerous third turn, and the final stretch is run, one horse pulls ahead for victory. The winning contrade loses their minds, hoisting the jockey on their shoulders, and celebrating well into the morning hours, finding comfort in bragging rights they’ve earned for a year. And? I never even saw it run. This is all thanks to the story telling magic of ESPN’s Wider World of Sports. Thanks, Kenny Mains.  (EDITOR’S NOTE: I’d just like to recognize this milestone – this is the first time – and possibly the last – Noelle has told anyone else a sports story that I shared with her. As you were…).

Lesser known for (like, by maybe just me) is a novel that sets its stage in Siena. Juliet: A Novel, paints a different picture of the tale of Romeo and Juliet, asserting that the story can actually be traced back to Siena, not Shakespeare’s beloved Verona. Passing by the piazzas and streets that my beloved heroine, Giulietta, fled through as she searched for the truth about her family made me feel all Janet Evanovich-y. Almost as cool as when we followed the steps of Shadows of the Wind’s main character through the back alleys of Barcelona, but that’s another story. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Annnnd, back to the books. But at least our kids will read good, right?)

After a month on the road, this was also our first “domestic” stop, selecting accommodations based on the following: a) washing machine b) kitchen, c) living room (you’d be surprised how much you miss a couch to lounge on) and d) internet. We needed to recoup, and Siena was just the place to do it. We rented an apartment, where we spent long evenings preparing tomato, basil, mozzarella salads, fresh from the local market, snacking on melon, prosciutto and parmesan as we worked on the blog and made preparations for our next stops. All while taking in the incredible views of the Tuscan hills out the huge picture windows. We likey. A short walk brought us to the tall walls that circle the historic city center (a UNESCO World Heritage Site, in fact), where we wandered through local shops and got lost in the dozens of adorable, winding streets.

One of my favorite moments was stumbling upon a children’s choir concert in front of one of the many churches. Watching the proud parents filming their kids singing off-key and forgetting their lyrics gave us pause as we realized we were watching the everyday lives of people existing halfway around the world, doing the exact same thing as parents from where we call home.

Anyway, back to what you’re all likely more interested in…the WINE! What trip to Tuscany would be complete without a trip into wine country? (EDITOR’S NOTE: None. None trips would be complete without this.) We hopped on a bus for a day trip into the Chianti region, stopping in San Gimignano and Monteriggioni, taking in the incredible views and perhaps more importantly, some world-famous reds. Mix that with a tasting of local truffle oils and balsamics, and we were in heaven. If not for the promise of Dave catching the Hawks game that night, we’d still be in that vineyard, drinking 30-year-old balsamic from the casks.

It is at this point of our adventure that we also begin having serious conversations of how to make this a sustainable lifestyle. All we needed was one REALLY great idea and we could retire to the hills of Italy, disappearing forever.  Conversations would go something like this:

Dave: You always see mannequins, right? But what about WOMANNEQUINS??

Noelle: Babe, that IS a mannequin… just with female accents.

Dave: Yeah, but no one MARKETS them as Womannequins.

Noelle: No, but they already EXIST, you’re just calling them something different.

Dave: Exactly. This is a great idea. We’re going to make millions. You’re welcome.

You can see how this went (EDITOR’S NOTE: I know… groundbreaking. There’s more where that came from.). We’ll see you back in Chicago right on schedule, resumes in hand.