Tag: baby

Italian Labour Day Weekend in Sperlonga

Even though we had almost laughably bad luck after buying a car in Italy and then having it die 10 days later on our first weekend drive out of town, we’ve made the most of Italy’s underrated train system and visited pretty much everything within an hour or so of Rome, over the last two years.

With our final Italian beach season approaching, we set our sights on nearby Sperlonga, one of the few major beach towns that we hadn’t yet visited. Sperlonga features on many lists of Italy’s best summer destinations and as the May Day holiday created a three day weekend, we ventured off for a two night visit with a work pal, his wife and their daughter, almost exactly Aleksander’s age.

The train to Sperlonga is an easy hour away from Rome and we hopped into a taxi from the train station to get to our early season hotel.

The hotel was clean, comfortable, had seaside views and a swimming pool, mostly reserved for foreigners (including Canadians) at this pre-summer heatwave juncture. We enjoyed a seafood lunch at the hotel restaurant before taking the 40 minute or so walk up to the scenic Sperlonga town itself.

The views were typically fabulous, if overcast. The town’s piazzas, patios and alleyways were buzzing with European tourists and lounging locals alike. Aleksander, of course, was entranced with some kids kicking a soccer ball against the wall as we watched for the better part of half an hour. Eventually, Tom and family joined us for an apertivo as the kids chased bubbles spiritedly.

We scored some pizza al taglio as the evening closed in and were glad to share the experience with some adult and toddler friends, our first joint family weekend since arriving in Italy.

The next day, we hoped for a few hours of clear skies in order to enjoy some of Sperlonga’s famous sandy beaches. The stabilimemti were all within an easy ten minute walk and Aleksander frolicked in the sand for a good few hours. The sun peered out from behind the clouds and it looked like the gloomy weather forecast might be proven wrong altogether. Alas, after sitting down for lunch, the clouds and winds darkened and picked up and we had to call it a day on our first beach attempt of the year.

We returned to the hotel, the kids watched some tv as the adults indulged in some vino and convo. We discussed the amazingness of Italy, how every little town seemed worth a visit and how lucky our kids were to get such memorable experiences on the regular.

The next day was even rainier than the others and it felt fully acceptable to return to the beauty of Rome after the long weekend escape.

Again, the Springtime weather is proving to be a bit more unstable than in our previous years but we’re not letting that slow down our exploration. Next stop, our final weeklong Italian trip, to the southern heel of the boot, in Puglia and Salento.

Thank you Sperlonga for a great soft launch of our final Italian beach season!

Easter Weekend in the Amalfi

As we start to approach the twilight of our Italian days, we’ve become more active in getting some bucket list activities done. Even though we visited Ischia last Spring and the Amalfi on our honeymoon in 2017, it just didn’t feel right to leave Italy without having spent a few days on the fabled Amalfi coast this time around. So with Dalia’s sister arriving from Canada via Spain, we zipped down the coast from Rome for Easter weekend.

Although we honeymooned in Sorrento, our two night hotel stay was actually in the cliff-top outskirts of the city and we never managed to visit the town itself. This time we booked ourselves three nights in a comfortable loft apartment in adjacent Sant’Agnello – close enough for scenic walks but far enough to get a taste of the local area.

The Easter Weekend brought lots of crowds to Sorrento but also offered an insight into the deep persistence of religious life in Italy. The contrast of sunny coastline, full buzzing patios and the sombre Holy Friday procession was a sight to behold and we felt very lucky to experience both aspects.

Our Saturday plan to visit Capri was unfortunately rained out and replaced with a rather home-bound afternoon, full of good food, naps and time to reflect. We bought some lamb from the local butcher, stocked up at the village market and enjoyed our indoor day.

Thankfully the clouds cleared up on Easter Sunday and we got on a packed bus to Positano. I’ve always been a fan of off-season travel and Positano is a perfect place to visit before the summer crowds truly start to roar. The town was still busy for a gloomy April day but we made the most of our long walk down from the bus stop to the beach.

Positano is such a distilled jewel of the best of Italy. Amazing views, architecture, food and charm. Aleksander watched boys play soccer on the beach, climbed in and out of dormant fishing boats and even found a slide to frolic on for a while. The sun came out for an absolutely idyllic hour or so and we got to take some pregnancy shots featuring a massive Amalfi lemon.

We caught a ferry back to Sorrento after enjoying a fabulous beachside lunch in Positano and meandered around the rather bumping downtown alleyways of Sorrento before heading home. Although the weather didn’t quite cooperate as much as we had hoped, the long weekend was relaxing, inspiring and enjoyable nonetheless.

We left for Rome the next morning grateful, rejuvenated and with full hearts.

Due anni italiani

I’m writing this reflection on the winding steps of a cozy airbnb apartment on a rainy Spring Saturday morning in Sorrento, the opposite of the weather one imagines for an Easter long weekend in the Amalfi. Aleksander is napping early because he woke up too early. Dalia is taking a moment to breathe, five months along with our next child. And Dalia’s sister, Christina, who joined us yesterday from Barcelona, as the last of our family members to visit Italy, is asleep since Aleksander started yelling about bananas at 6am to plunge her directly into toddler-auntie life.

We arrived on the coast yesterday, Holy Friday, stopping in Naples for a pizza before taking the ferry instead of the train to Sorrento, our first ever visit to this famous seaside city. It was on Holy Friday two years ago that we landed in Rome, moved into our apartment and began this wonderful Italian adventure that we’ve been squeezing into limoncello ever since.

As these things do, that arrival feels both a blink and an eon ago. Moving to Rome with an infant during a once in a century global pandemic has a way of locking itself into your memory banks. I can still feel the isolation and chaos of the flight here and the tint and glow of the morning blooms on and from our balcony once we arrived.

Aleksander has grown up here. Taken his first steps, spoken his first words, kicked his first few hundred soccer balls, casually, in or around Rome. We have grown as parents, as humans, not linearly and not without struggle, but always somehow finding a caffe, gelato or prosecco as needed. We’ve been able to share glimpses to weeks of our lives here with visitors, all inspired in some way by the beauty, history and dynamism of the Eternal City.

Occasionally people ask the most banal and profound question: so how is Rome? How is Italy? As time has gone on, I’ve developed an unusual timidity answering this, mostly because I don’t want to appear as gloating, but I’ve eventually landed on: there’s almost no downside (that’s too troublesome) about living in Rome/Italy. The weather is great, the food quality is divine, the people are incredibly lovely, the neighbourhood architecture has no business being as unnecessarily awe-inspiring as it is. Coffee costs a dollar, people say hi and thank you to eachother, and nonnas fawn openly and sincerely over our biondino. If I really need to reach, living in a beautiful place and paying for life in euros can pinch; 8pm dinner time nationwide is not particularly baby-friendly; and then another back-handed complaint, Italy has too many worthwhile and amazing things to see and do, and the fact is now obvious that we won’t be able to see and do them all before we leave.

The nature of my job and our lifestyle is rotation and change. Last September, we submitted our top five list for our next posting and early this year, were offered the third choice. At the time, we were considering lobbying for an additional year in Italy, but when our next post was floated over a video call, our backs straightened up and we elbowed and kicked eachother under the screen with excitement. Needless to say, leaving here won’t be easy, but we’re not disappointed with where we’ll go next.

There was a point last Fall, where for the first time since maybe my early teen years in Toronto, that I felt like I was in my forever home. The feeling quietly materialized out of nowhere over a series of weeks. After about a year of Italian lessons, I could manage most linguistic scenarios I found myself in, occasionally even with some charm. Aleksander was loving his daycare life, double cheek kissing his teachers, and bouncing home in the evening mumbling about his pals Ricardo, Margherita and Valerio. Dalia was working regular hours at the Embassy, seemingly in the treasured sweet spot of work-life-mom-wife-woman-adult-human balance. We had hosted a steady stream of visitors who left more full than they arrived. The pasticceria staff knew my daily order in the morning. We had the menu hilights memorized for a half-dozen favourite neighbourhood restaurants. And generally, we moved comfortably and unhurriedly through our moments, days and weeks. Aleksander had a birthday party with his friends when he turned two, we spent a magical weekend in Assisi for my birthday a week later, and my mom and brother joined us for their second Christmas in Italy soon after that. I thought, clearly, I could keep doing this, in this place, until the end. A real, honest and unforeseen rarity for me.

Then. In the New Year. For an equally unapparent reason, perhaps weather related, we felt bored. Limited. Serrendipitously underinspired by the those same exact, endlessly satisfying routines of a few months earlier. Maybe it was our subconsciouses preparing us for the inevitable, slowly encroaching reality, that almost all of our probable future roads will lead decidedly away from Rome.

So two years have come and gone, forever ours. And now we’re counting down to our departure in months. Beginning to take on a thousand and one administrative steps as our end date approaches weeks, days and hours, before we wistfully close our Roman time capsule and throw it in with antiquity. With the millions of others, over dozens of centuries, who have passed through the roads and piazzas of this incredible place, some leaving a mark, most others eternally glad to carry a piece of Rome in their souls for the rest of their days.

Humbly, gratefully, like us.

Mommy’s Birthday in Magical Matera

Matera had piqued Dalia’s interest quite early during our time in Italy. It’s a city that we hadn’t previously heard much about but revealed itself to her through both word of mouth and instagram profiles over the months. We had already planned two different trips to the south-east of Italy where Matera is located, but for various reasons, had to pull the plug both times. Alas, Dalia’s early Spring birthday was the ideal time to make our way across most of southern Italy to Matera!

This was by far our longest road trip in Italy. The drive was about five hours and really tested Aleksander’s ability to manage life in a car seat for longer than he’s ever done before. Thankfully, he took some timely naps and we stopped as needed. Overall, the drive was gorgeous and enjoyable. The late March landscape was already saturated with a vibrant emerald green and gave us plenty to look at and chit chat about. The Italian countryside never disappoints.

Like many other places in Italy, Matera managed to surpass even our fairly high expectations. There isn’t much that indicates what you’re about to find, on the final approach to Matera. But then you arrive at one of the world’s oldest inhabited locations, with continuous dwellings dating back thousands of years, throughout a series of incredible and unexpected cave and canyon formations, with homes chiselled into the rock face over hundreds of years.

It’s an absolutely astonishing and inspiring place, a UNESCO world heritage site since 1993. We spent our time trying to explore every nook and cranny, going up and down winding staircases, getting lost and finding our way back home. Dalia was able to manage with her burgeoning pregnancy and Aleksander got to flex his balance and stamina on the ancient paths.

We were able to hang out as a family, get some sun and steps, reflect on the wonder of humanity’s capabilities, visit something new and on our Italian bucket list and eat, run and explore. Matera was truly an otherworldly city and definitely worth the drive and effort in getting there and around.

Another nearby town that Dalia has long had in her sights was Alberobello and since we were relatively close, even though the weather was a bit ominous, we decided to make a short visit.

We lunched, walked around and even spent an hour in a rainy playground. Alberobello may not have had its most glamourous day but we were happy to see the place without the summer tourist crowds.

Our long overdue trip to Matera was completely magical. We returned to Rome telling anyone we could that they absolutely have to visit. Dalia’s birthday wish came true and it was a great start to her year ahead.