After living in Rome for just over half a year, we’ve become comfortable in a number of ways. Last Sunday, that comfort led us to decide on an unplanned day trip back to Tivoli, this time to explore the city’s other (than Villa D’Este) UNESCO heritage site, the ruins of Villa Adriana.
The train schedule should have given us a moment of pause as most regional trains weren’t doing the route on Sunday. Nonetheless, based on the advice of a customer service agent at the station, we booked tickets to Bagni di Tivoli, then planned to take a bus to Villa Adriana.
You can probably surmise that the journey there didn’t go quite as smoothly as planned. Leaving the tiny train station at Bagni di Tivoli, we learned from the nearest barista that the next bus wasn’t scheduled for a few more hours on a Sunday, so we headed off on foot. Google indicated about a 5km walk and although intrepid, we hesitated to commit. Eventually we scored a seat on a city bus, with no ticket, and collapsed stroller in hand to within a kilometre of the site.
We made it to Villa Adriana in the early afternoon, with as many people already leaving as making their way in. The sprawling, open-air complex was serene, impressive and varied. Neither of us are particularly historically minded so we meandered, awaiting inspiration from the half-collapsed walls and sunworn and overly technical building descriptions.
The sunshine, pictures and warm Sunday air made for a completely pleasant afternoon. Aleksander snoozed on the bumpy walking paths between sections of the site and we compared the ruins to others we’ve seen in Italy, India and elsewhere.
After a few hours of exploring and a fairly sad food truck Cacio Pepe, we plotted our return route with a moderate tinge of anxiety. We decided to make our way to the train station in Tivoli, a surer bet to score a quick ride home, but also balked at scaling the not insignificant hill to get there. Without any obviously excellent option available, we headed upwards and paid the price to close off our day.
No need to bore with details but there may have been a highway crossed hastily with our stroller and a straight kilometre uphill before finally arriving at the scenic heights of Tivoli. Slightly cursing ourselves and lack of proper logistic organization. And discussing how we’ve been lucky for six full months in terms of Italian travel success.
In any case, another enjoyable day trip in the books. And probably our last time to Tivoli for some time.
After almost three months in Italy and more than three years since a proper beach-bum vacation, we organized ourselves for a one-week stay on the beautiful and nearby island of Sardinia.
It had been so long since we took a vacation and with the pandemic still ongoing and now a baby in tow, our planning skills had become quite rusty. Based on a few recommendations from locals and after reviewing a handful of blogs, we decided to stick to the south coast of Sardinia, an island with over 2000 kms of coastline and seemingly endless options for beautiful silky beaches and turquoise waves.
We started our 8 night trip flying into Cagliari, the largest city on the south coast of Sardinia. The flight was less than an hour from Rome and again, thankfully, Aleksander managed the metro, train and plane ride with little fuss.
Our first accommodation was modest but located just steps away from the 6km long Poetto beach in Cagliari, a perfect jumping off spot to get our tans from zero to light lobster level.
We spent a glorious first day at the Lido Beach Club in Cagliari, alternating Aleksander between the cool sea water and shady umbrella and beach chairs. The heat was intense and much more than anything we had experienced since visiting Greece in 2018 so our complexions paid a bit of a price but there’s nothing like just going for it!
Our second day in Cagliari we spent walking around the city. Most people had undersold it as a destination in and of itself but we found it very charming, historic and peacefully empty. We happened upon an amazing lunch just below the famous 13th century Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta e Santa Cecilia and casually strolled the city streets, gelato in hand.
From Cagliari, we really engaged the full beachness of a Sardinian escape by heading to Villasimius, a typical vacation town on the south-east corner of the island. Here we found an abundance of beaches to choose from, the early signs of other European travellers returning and the kind of seafood you write home about. If we did another trip to Sardinia, I think I’d be keen on making Villasimius our headquarters for longer than just a few days. It’s the perfect place from which to comfortably explore the many amazing things this part of Sardinia has to offer.
Our final two days were spent back on the other side of Cagliari, in a fancier hotel near the town of Santa Margherita di Pula. The roasting weather finally let up, giving us some time to relax from dedicated beaching but still enjoy the fabulous infinity pool at the Hotel Costa dei Fiori and wonderful breakfasts and dinners.
We strolled the grounds, took loads of pictures of bushes in full beautiful bloom and took advantage of our comfortable room and bed for some final rest before returning to the outside world.
Overall, our trip to Sardinia was as much as we could have hoped for. Restful, beautiful, satisfying. We didn’t really know how much we needed a vacation (says everyone on Earth these days…) but we flew back to Rome grateful, re-energized and excited for our first summer in the Italian capital, with an eye already towards our next vacation – Sicily in September!
Since we had four full days in Venice, we decided to spend one of them on a nearby island. Researching travel plans has become a much more difficult task with an infant but my wife came across some positive reviews of the island of Burano, a 45 minute ferry ride from Venice, and so off we went for maybe the most colourful afternoon of our lives.
I can’t tell you many clever things about Burano or even the reason for the colourful homes but usually that has to do with sailors being able to identify their location in poor conditions. Either way, the colours of Burano have been saturated for the Instagram generation and the hundreds of colourful home-fronts did not disappoint.
We strolled, ate more wonderful seafood and, of course, took loads of pictures. We got a taste of the returning tourist crowds on our way home, waiting in line for an hour for the ferry home. But the stroller came in handy and we were plucked out of line and got to board first. Aleksander was a champion as always, letting us enjoy the day while he mostly snoozed.
If you find yourself in Venice with some spare time, hop on a ferry to Burano and enjoy this jewel of a find.
After a month of weekends spent in Rome, visiting and revisiting many of the city’s best known historical sites, we decided it was time to leave these beautiful urban confines. It hasn’t been an entirely easy transition to European life with a stroller. The ancients weren’t necessarily thinking about baby problems when they designed and laid out their streets. So one of our biggest concerns about leaving our home area, even for a few hours, is how to manage with a six month old. We ultimately decided to test out leaving the stroller behind, only bringing a carrier and hoping Aleksander’s head doesn’t bobble too much napping for a few hours strapped to our chests.
The destination we decided on was the seaside town of Ostia. Ostia is well-known amongst Romans as a quick and easy summer escape from the concrete, heat and crowds of peak tourist season in the Eternal City. It’s a very convenient 20-minute city train ride from Rome and the train was busy with beach seekers, young and old, keen to return to a normal post-pandemic summer life.
Since one of my main life goals while living in Rome is to be a member of a beach club, I was thrilled to see the sand and lapping waves of the Mediterranean. The hot sun was buffered by a cool seaside breeze and we kept ourselves and Aleksander hydrated at every step. We took pictures on the Ostia pier, sat down for a wonderful seafood lunch, grabbed a gelato (of course), walked the boardwalk (assessing beach clubs) and even dipped Aleksander’s toes in the water.
Dalia is essentially a mermaid who loves the water so we’re thrilled to have a beach within such a short distance from our home. We look forward to further exploring Ostia in future, as well as working through all the ‘beaches to visit’ lists we can find.
Dad in the world will hopefully soon become dad on the beach!
Aleksander turned one month old this past weekend.
Yesterday, he had his fist monthly check-up with the pediatrician. Despite putting on an operatic display, the doctor assured us that our son is growing well and looking good. He’s almost up to nine pounds, having added about 30% of body mass to his birth weight. The day for mommy and daddy was typical for the days when we’re scheduled to be anywhere with our little one: long, hectic and hanging by a thread controlled chaos.
Aleksander’s first month of life has offered so many lessons that it’s hard to know where to begin. (Also, to note, my brain capacity is hovering somewhere around the 50th percentile as I write this, further complicating the expression of any coherent description).
The first notable thing is probably the incredibly abrupt, immediate and all-encompassing reorientation of personal priorities that comes with a new (especially first) baby. Dalia and I have lived a pretty charmed existence as a married couple. We exist very comfortably, have jobs we enjoy and numerous hobbies to keep us busy. One could say that we were completely in charge of how we spent our energy and time, and we very much enjoyed this privilege. This reality was flipped entirely on its head with Aleksander’s arrival. I’d estimate that now, Dalia’s actions are between 95-98% dictated by his needs, and mine are probably motivated about 90% towards him, her and every other thing around the house that neither of them can do.
In no way is this any kind of complaint either. The deep-seated motivation to take care of an infant feels entirely endless. All I’m saying is that this one-day-to-the-next absolute rearrangement in your life’s priorities is something to behold. And one of those annoying cliches that happen to be true – that there is no preparation sufficient and that the situation must truly be lived to be understood.
On the point of priorities, mixed in with exhausted brain fog, I’ve never been so laser-focused on a few distinct items, namely: Aleksander, Dalia, me (somewhat)… then way down the list, every other thing. I’ve always liked being non-committal to the varied aspects of my identity, flowing through them as needed. Now I’m so locked in as a father and husband that I barely see anything outside of our three person circle of life. Of course, it helps that we’re both on parental leave (shout out Canada!), so without hyperbole, both of our full-time jobs (including nights, weekends and holidays) are solely to take care of our son, full-stop.
Aside from the impact on our own lives, Aleksander has fascinated, astonished and brought us joy in so many ways. First is just the incredible, almost indescribable, cuteness of one so little. His fingernails, chubby legs, perfect ears, are just so lovingly surreal that you can spend hours just admiring them. This complete enrapture is such a clever evolutionary twist. Admiring his little beauty and acknowledging that he’s been born of you almost distracts from how fully dependent he is on you. The desire to protect and care for him is so strong and so perfectly matched to how much care and protection he needs: 100%.
As we age into adulthood, we seem to be authentically surprised and impressed less and less. Our stores of memories of life grow quite substantial and we become comfortable with a certain predictability in life. In fact, one could argue that that’s what maturation is really about: creating a stable and predictable life path. Changes come more at the pace of icebergs than ice storms.
A newborn is such a quickly and transparently developing creature that it smashes the rational and reasonable adult contexts we’re so familiar with. Aleksander changes noticeably, in some way, on a daily basis, sometimes even seemingly within a few hours. He grows, gains weight, opens his eyes, uses his voice, stops to listen, squirms his body, pauses to consider in ways that are always new, because they really are. It is nothing short of miraculous to witness. And invigorating, and refreshing, and the most lucid reminder that life at its core is about growth and discovery, and not only about doing the needful.
Of course, he has no idea of any of the metaphysical inspirations he’s stimulating – he’s too busy eating his own hand, or sleeping like a rag doll, or filling his diapers. At one month, he’s starting to focus his eyes, although he still shows no real recognition of us. In the last week, he’s discovered a few sounds that he can make that are not related to crying and we very much hope he leans into those more. Sometimes when he’s alert, in a good mood, and thinks no one is watching, his little fingers and hands dance around like twinkling snowflakes. It’s angelic and innocent and pure and makes me want to cry. He doesn’t mind when we kiss him dozens of times, smell his little head, or even when daddy cleans his armpits in the bath. He lifts his fists to his cheek as an immediate reflex when he eats and it’s just the most adorable thing you can imagine. He’s quickly outgrowing his newborn onesies, some of which I’ve grown quite fond of and am sad to see go, and will soon move past newborn-sized diapers. He makes the greatest little faces, usually just fleetingly and by accident, but you wish you could frame and forever keep every single one. He’s going through a gassy and fussy phase which can be really challenging but he’s in good hands with mommy and me, and like with all things in his life, we’ll do our best to get him to the other side of this and any other of his tougher moments.
We’re constantly being reminded by other parents to treasure and absorb these early moments because they pass by fast. In fairness, we’re mostly in survival mode so contemplative reflection isn’t always the first instinct. I’m trying to sneak in these essays and hope that between the words and dozens of photos, we’ll never forget how blessed we were in the first month of Aleksander’s life.
Dad In The World 