Call Me Crazy - I went to Italy with a Toddler , and Loved Every Moment (almost...) A Trip Report: Rome and Tuscany

ROME IN A DAY, ALMOST

Main attractions: St. Peters Basilica and Square, St. Angelo, Piazza Narvona and the Pantheon.

We woke around 10am, made some espresso (with milk-wow, and I thought Peet’s Coffee was strong!) ate more cookies, and studied our map to find our way to the ATM and grocery store. We got turned around once (both are within two blocks of each other and the apartment, a bit embarrassing). The store was small with narrow aisles and full of people - a little overwhelming. Thanks Fodorites for tip about using the gloves in the produce department. Armed with food and cash, we ate our ham sandwiches at the apartment, loaded up supplies in the travel bag, threw the kid on Aaron’s back, and took off for our first day in Rome.

We stepped out of our front door and started walking, without a particular direction. I hate to use maps unless I am desperately lost. The adventure is discovering a city on your own. The streets were narrow and the sidewalks barely existed, or disappeared under a Vespa. We felt much safer with Ada on our back, since we constantly stepped out into the road. Within minutes Ada was sound asleep. Ahhh…The sun shined bright with a light dusting of clouds, perfect temperature, especially for November. The air seemed to buzz with energy. The buildings were different shades of brown, white, yellow and muted orange and they exhaled history. The streets were lined with tiny galleries, cafes and shops; one shop sold only door knobs. We walked by an Italian man arguing with a “friend,” with wild gestures and dramatic, lyrical tirades. It was like DH and I were on a romantic get-a-way, holding hands like newlyweds. I was in love….

After followed a labyrinth of narrow streets, we turned the corner and spotted the top of St. Angelo through the maple trees the line the Tiber River. The timing was perfect, ( Ada asleep) and I couldn’t believe it. We rushed across the street, with all the other tourists (the tourists were so thick I couldn’t imagine visiting Rome during the summer) passed by the guys selling their purses and luggage on the bridge, pass the old women wearing heavy skirts and dirty head scarves curled into themselves, and zipped our way to St. Peter’s Basilica. I was surprised we had to go through a metal detector, first time for me while visiting a church. (Another side note: first time seeing the Italian polizia: wow…nothing like an Italian man in a starched uniform.)

How do you describe St. Peter’s Basilica? The beauty was immense and overwhelming. Whenever I visit Europe, cathedrals are a must see, even though I don’t belong to an organized religion, because they breath beauty, history and serenity. St. Peter’s lacked the serenity: big and with lots of people snatching pictures. We wandered through with our neck craned to the ceiling uttering “WOW” every minute or so. After forty-five minutes Ada stirred awake and joined in with her family oohhing and ahhing at the cathedral’s beauty. We let her out to walk around – mistake. From her perspective, two feet off the ground, she must have seen nothing by a marble runway. She took off running with a few happy squeals. DH took off after, while I took a few pictures of her great escape, and we quickly B-lined it to the nearest exit. She spent the next half-hour running free, chasing pigeons in St. Peter’s Square while DH chased her. I took pictures, soaked in the sun and marveled at how wonderful my husband was to give me that peaceful moment.

We ate a quick piece of pizza (ham and potato) while walking along the Vatican wall. I reported to my husband that eating lunch while walking, during siesta, wasn’t very Italian.

Our next stop was St. Angelo. Same deal as the square, husband followed Ada around while I took pictures. From the top there are great views of the Vatican and the Tiber River. There was a little museum, but we were avoiding indoor places, since Ada was at that moment too giggly.

PIAZZA NARVONA

It was now late afternoon, we were tired, and I finally broke out the lap so we could wind our way back to the apartment for a break. I don’t know why I bothered with the map, DH and I always get lost where ever we go. Once again, we wandered through tiny streets, peeked our head into shops selling rugs, beads, and sculptures. Finally after 20 minutes or so, we noticed that the streets opened up into a square – AHA! Piazza Narvona, the piazza I have heard raved about, was under our feet. It was filled with artists, tourists and street performers. The afternoon light turned the orange buildings vibrant and welcoming. And the entire piazza was lined with restaurants. We were told not to eat in the piazza if we wanted real Italian food but at that moment, we just wanted to sit down. We picked the place nearest to where we stood, and flipped through the menu to eat our first meal. It was in English and it had pictures! I was a bit mortified because I felt like such a tourist. Thankfully my husband ordered us each a beer and I relaxed and simply enjoyed sitting, watching people and listening to the Four Rivers Fountain. We both ate pizza, Ada had pear juice and we shared a second beer. Our waiter then requested we pay our bill – I’ve never had that happen, even in the U.S. Total cost was 43 Euros.

We wandered around the piazza for awhile. Not the greatest place for Ada to chase pigeons, too many people for her in run into, and a lot of little bits of garbage, cigarette butts for her to pick up and marvel at. Refreshed, we continued our walk, leaving from the opposite side of piazza. Streets were a little wider, more tourists, and a lot of polizia. I was in heaven! I have never checked out so many nicely dressed men. I assume we were near government buildings because of the suits, fancy cars, police, ectera. Ada nodded out again and DH and I morphed back into the childless couple enjoying an evening in Rome. We bought some gelato and meandered to the…

PANTHEON

What I love about Rome, and not using a map, is there’s a wonderful historical surprise around almost every corner. The Pantheon was the highlight of our trip. It’s beauty was so simple after seeing all the adornment at St. Peters. The pillars massive, the “devil’s hole” stunning. It had the serenity I usually find in churches. By the time we left it was dark (sun sets before six, a disadvantage of visiting in November.) and we amazingly retraced our steps back to our apartment. After a few more cookies, and watching The Wizard of Oz dubbed in Italian (except for the musical numbers) we called it a night.

Next: Campo dei fiori and thunderstorms…

Really enjoying your report!

A lovely report mebe, truly lovely! I look forward to the next installment.

This is a delightful report - and you are an inspiration to motherhood! Please continue.

Great trip report! Thanks for sharing.

What a wonderful trip report! I'm so glad that you are taking the time to post it - I remember how precious time is when the kids are small!

Looking forward to more . . .

Perfect. I love your descriptions, mebe. Looking forward to more.

Anselm

Loved your description of your husband peppering your driver with inane questions....are we married to the same man? I research non-stop and he doesn't research at all. Then we get to our destination and he talks to other tourists or the guy at the front desk of the hotel and "discovers" some attraction that we just have to see...of course, I already have it on the agenda for Tuesday at 2 pm and know the opening and closing hours and metro sop by memory.

This reminds me of a trip to Spain I made w/my daughter, SIL, grandchild who was 13 mos old . . . we all had a great time (and we can now laugh at the (few) times when it wasn't so great).

I'm really enjoying your report and can hardly wait for the next installment.

Sandy (in Denton)

What a lovely report. I'm so enjoying it. Thanks. I wish I had enough courage to take my children travelling when they were young.

Hi- I can't wait to read more. We are going to Italy in December with a 23 month old, so I am taking notes!

Mebe, I loved your report. Our daughter is only 3 months old but we're hoping to go to Italy a year from now. This makes me think I'm not as crazy as my DH thinks I am!

Very evocatve writing. Eagerly awaiting more.

...the thrill of travel overtook any common sense and regrets asking Sergio “how do you say, ‘where’s the toilet’ in Italian?”

Funny!

Wonderful report!! We don't have kids yet, but you inspire me to inspire my husband that when we do, we can just take them with us!

Sally

Thank you for all your wonderful comments. Here's a bit more - I've had to keep Ada locked in the bedroom with me to finish it. Sorry kid, no sunlight today!

Day Two

Another late start to the day, we again slept in until 10 am (at home we naturally wake up at 7 am). Ada adjusted to the time change without any problems and adapted by taking an extra nap during the day (which DH and I loved!) She was aware of being somewhere other than home and followed us around the apartment, crying out if either one of us left the room. We did bring some of her toys and books from home so she would have a few familiar friends. And the coffee table was a perfect height for her to practice her new trick of climbing onto furniture. We ate breakfast: eggs, yogurt, orange juice, incredibly strong coffee, and left our home for another day of meandering. We left in the opposite direction that we had the day prior, but we still ended up across from St. Angelo and the Tiber River. We took a left and walked along the river under the maple trees. Ada fell asleep again, we took a few self portraits under the trees, and took a right back into the city when we saw a group of young teens smoking something under a heavily scaffold building (habit from living in California).

We wound our way through the narrow streets until we discovered Campo dei Fiori. It was toward the end of the market, and fish stalls were already closing up and hosing their area down. But the other colorful stalls were still open, giving us a chance to marvel at the array of items they sold. We saw kitchen gadgets, clothes, underwear, scarves, fruit and vegetables, flowers and spice shops. People sat around where ever they could, talking, reading, eating, all while enjoying the sun. We thought of stopping at one of the restaurants around the square, but decided we still needed to try an “authentic” Italian meal off a side street where the menus do not come with pictures. On our search for a place to eat we stepped into a pharmacy to buy diapers. We bickered about how to change pounds into grams, how much Ada actually weighed, which diapers to buy, while the lady behind the counter watched us and had a good chuckle.

We found our restaurant. It was on a side street; lots of outside seating, full of Italians and there was a family with a small child already eating. Perfect! Then I couldn’t remember if we were supposed to just sit down, or wait to be seated. The waiter ignored us while he scurried around attending to the other patrons. Finally, after a minute of standing there like idiots, DH asked a couple if we could “just sit anywhere.” In perfect English they replied “of course!” Another minute passed and the family with child left and brought over their high chair for us to use. We ordered only the first course (in Italian, but the waiter answered us in English), and thankfully, I wrote down what we ate. DH had ravioli with seafood and I ate tagalli (sp?) with zucchini flowers along with a liter of mineral water. Both were good but very rich and gave us stomach aches later in the day.

Overall, the restaurant experience was stressful. I expected to be an expert once I left after months of constant research and reading other people’s trip reports. Yet the reality was I would only gain experience by living through my own experiences. I gave myself a hard time for being a “travel novice” and not fitting in perfectly into Roman culture. I took a lot of deep breaths and tried to enjoy making mistakes and not fitting in. But it was hard, and I now regret I didn’t relax and enjoy each moment for what it was, which my husband, who did no research, did without a problem.

By the time we headed home, to give Ada a chance to sleep lying down, the sky was overcast and heavy with moisture. Within a few hours, the rain started, light but constant. I was stir crazy in the apartment and told DH we were going out to dinner, in the rain. Unfortunately, I only brought one umbrella and no rain jackets (except for Ada’s) so we all cuddled together as we set out on the adventure of eating another Italian meal, something simple. Of course we didn’t use our map and ended up in Piazza Narvona again. It was beautiful at night, the fountain lit up; people still out walking in the rain, the streetlights cast a warm glow. We can’t eat here again! But the fountain created a blue oasis, and the murmur of other diners lured us into staying. We sat outside under layered umbrellas right across from the fountain. The waiters were friendly and laughed at Ada who had fists full of broken bread sticks keeping her entertained. We felt comfortable enough to practice ordering in Italian and a few other simple phrases, other than “grazie.” Our entertainment was watching the waiters chase off the peddlers who tried to sell us umbrellas or red roses. The meal was overpriced but the ambiance was ideal. For 70 Euros we shared a mixed salad, individual orders of chicken and potatoes (perfect!) ½ liter of wine, still water, tiramisu and gelato. I wrote in my journal “Yikes! Expensive dinner, but at least I’m not burping up repulsive tastes like I did after lunch.” The sky dumped water on our walk back to the apartment. I wished we had “seen” more that day, but life slows down while toting around a toddler. I woke up to the sound of thunder and lighting, parked overhead and shaking the windows. But no Vespas! I thought of the ancient Romans sleeping through similar storms and went back to sleep.

Day Three: The rain continues…


We began Sunday morning with Ada drumming against the shower stalls, yelling with pleasure at the echoed rattles. I shut the bathroom window in an attempt to not disturb our neighbors. We repeatedly told ourselves that the rain wasn’t ruining a day of sightseeing, that we expected rain, that is was Roman rain, therefore more meaningful, ectera, ectera…Ada spent most of the day running around the apartment, jumping on furniture, laughing at us telling her not to jump on the sofas, beds, tables and so forth.

The rain let up by mid afternoon, and we immediately took off. The air was fresh and wet and we were thrilled to be once again walking the streets. We went back to the Pantheon and Ada ran around the square. But too many people and she ran into a few; not a problem with the Romans, but the other non-Romans weren’t pleased. Back in the backpack.

Side note: it’s true that most Romans love children. Where ever we walked they patted her on the head, smiled, said “bella” and other complements (I assume!) in Italian and some in English, usually commenting on her blue eyes.

Via Corso was our next accidental destination. I had studied the map enough to know that at the far end was the “wedding cake” (I can’t remember its real name) and sure enough, there it was glinting white in the distance. Finally, a new site to explore! The traffic was much heavier, sidewalks wider and lots and lots of people – a bit overwhelming compared to the quaint streets we usually explore. The monument is expressive and the marble stairs are very slippery when wet. Aaron took that moment to take a break from the backpack, and I had the pleasure of climbing with twenty lbs extra and the fear of slipping and breaking both of our necks. We gawked at the large horse statue (and how anatomically correct someone sculpted its “parts” and wandered around on the top for a bit. It was our first time seeing the Forum and further away, the Coliseum. The Coliseum was the main reason I wanted to stay in Rome. I watched a lot of History Channel programs on its grim history, and I love nothing more that learning about the gore or our past. But that adventure would have to wait another day. It was already 4pm, and it began sprinkling.

There has been a lot of advice about how to cross the street in Rome; a dangerous experience, but so far for us, no close calls. But our experience was limited to two lanes. Leaving “the wedding cake” to get back to Via Corso, we faced five lanes of taxis, Vespas, tour buses and other cars speeding around a corner at a ridiculous speed. We had a crosswalk, but no light. No problem, we thought with our bloated egos, we will cross when the Italian man standing next to us. He went, no traffic, we went. Out of no where, four cars and a Vespa are coming at us without any regard to our existence. The man apparently was not Italian, because he turned and ran half way back to where we started, panic stricken. S**T! That was our first thought, but we stayed, let the Vespa fly by, then the taxi, then walked in front of the last two cars who slowed so as not to hit us. No horns, no yelling “what are you thinking stupid tourists!” Nothing but understanding that it was our turn to use the road. Sergio told us during our taxi ride “it’s all about respect” and at that moment, I understood. The people standing at the corner, watching us, shook their heads either at our bravery or our stupidity.

Oh mebe, what a precious trip report! And hearing the thunder and having the rain as the Romans did..too true.

I will imagine that your family will take a lot more trips as your daughter grows up..and what beautiful adventures you will have!!

Thanks for sharing - what a wonderful trip and report.

More, more! I am really enjoying your writing style- both your adventures and your musings on them!

I totally relate to the dining stress after doing all the research! Mine was the stress of trying to speak French in Paris for the first time. I actually have a much better vocabulary and reading knowledge of the language than my DH (although by no means anything great),but he was somehow joking around in French with everyone we met, while I was paralyzed for the entire trip- afraid to ask where the bathroom was. Maybe because for him it was just communication where for me it was something I had been researching, dreaming of, practicing for months and I ended up feeling like I was on a stage and my "performance" wasn't matching up to my dreams. Just pondering... Back to your post!

Blue Swimmer- EXACTLY!

Googie and Swalter518 - if you have any specific questions or worries about trekking you kid around, please ask!


I looked up the "wedding cake" and its offical name is Victor Emmauel Monument.

Here's some more -

(Same Day)
Back at the Pantheon, we stopped at the Salumeria (raved about by Rick Steve’s) for dinner. DH bravely asked in Italian if they accepted credit cards and the woman behind the cash register said no. Okay, no problem; we have 6 Euros and two ettos of a salami, tomato and basil Panini was 5 Euro. But when we ordered, in Italian, the man behind the counter gave us 2.5 ettos and wrapped them up before we could say a word. Total cost: 9.25 Euros – UH OH. I burned with embarrassment. Plus, I still had Ada on my back and I kept bumping into people with the backpack in the narrow store. DH and I huddled together in panic and he went back to the woman behind the cash register and attempted to explain our dilemma. She asked “quante?” and DH showed her all the coins we had and I said “seis.” She smiled, with an annoyed look in her eyes and said “okay” and took our money. Dumbfounded she didn’t tell us to search out the nearest ATM, I fumbled out a “mille grazie” instead of a “grazie mille,” and we left in humiliation. Our egos bloated with confidence a few minutes ago now completely deflated, carried us over to the Pantheon, and we ate our Panini under the pillars while Ada roamed around in between bites of sandwich. We vowed to return to the Salumeria and pay what we owed, plus buy a bottle of wine.


Day Four:

I woke up with a sore throat, stuffy nose and clouded head. I spent the morning sleeping, Ada continued her shower drumming and DH took care of us both. We didn’t leave until 1 pm. We backtracked to the Vatican to buy stamps and send our postcards. I read somewhere that if you want your postcards to arrive within the same six months of your return, do not sent them through the Italian post. Apparently international postcards have the lowest priority and get sent when they postman feels like sending them. No luck finding the post office, or a “Pope-a-ner,” which is a bottle opener with a picture of the Pope on it that I heard discussed on NPR. The shops sold devotional items, and I don’t think a “Pope-a-ner” is considered devotional. (When I told a Catholic friend of mine about it, she gasped in horror)

TREVI FOUNTAIN

Ada chased more pigeons, we ate a forgettable lunch (I really have no clue what we ate or where) and decided to make the day worth while by tracking down the Trevi Fountain. Using a map, (I didn’t have the stamina for wandering) we made our way past Piazza Narvona, The Pantheon, back to Via Corso and followed the signs that say “Trevi Fountain” with an arrow pointing in it’s general direction. The Trevi Fountain is another example of Rome’s magic; at the end of an average street stands a massive fountain attached to the side of a building. The delicious blue water beckoned me to jump in and splash around, but I restrained myself because my frivolous act would be witnessed by a massive swarm of tourists. DH and I declared we would never visit Rome during the regular season if Rome was this congested with people during the “off-season.”

To get down the steps to the pool of water I had to duck and weave through people taking pictures, tossing coins over their shoulder (watch out, not all the coins make it) and the hawkers selling roses dipped in fountain water and these strange plastic doll heads whose eyes bug out when you squeeze them. At some point, the patience disappears, and with a few polite “mi scusi” I nudged my way through to the bottom. It was surprisingly peaceful next to water. The roar drowns most human noise and the crowds did thin toward the sides of the fountain. I looked up and saw DH’s annoyed face in the crowd of people. I guess the guys with doll heads wouldn’t leave him alone and people pushing against him were making him claustrophobic. (Warning: this is a thief hot spot for obvious reasons) I hurried my way back up and we wandered away from the crowds and took a few pictures. We forgot to throw coins, but since Ada slept through the experience (and she LOVES fountains) we knew we were destined to try again. We laughed at the fountain’s hectic frenzy of people, bought some gelato and strolled home using our favorite route.

We attempted to visit Santa Maria sopra Minera, the only Gothic church in Rome just behind the Pantheon, but Ada chose to wake up, saw the rows of lit candles, pointed and expressed her joy with a “ohhhhh, light!” loud enough for all to hear and for all to glare. Alright, we get it, kids not welcome, and we left.

DINNER…

Natalia, the apartment owner, recommended an authentic Italian restaurant. Two older women, I think sisters, make a big pot of something and you sit down and eat it. That’s it. Whatever they make is delicious, so you are generally happy with what you get. Plus, one of the sister’s names is “Ada” so of course we had to go. They’re only opened a few days a week for lunch and dinner is served at eight. DH obsessed about this restaurant and made it his mission to eat there. Eight o’clock is Ada’s bedtime, but we ignored her schedule, fed her early, and went off to hunt down this “ultimate meal experience.” The main road (via Vittoro Emanuelle) roared with loud traffic, so I had the brilliant idea of cutting down a quieter side street for a more “relaxing” stroll. We wandered around in circles (this time actual circles) for twenty minutes or so until we finally found the correct street. Then we walked up and down the street a few times looking for a sign (no sign) then for an address number, until we determined the restaurant must be behind the only door on the street that lacked an address. A woman walking by confirmed we were standing in front of the right door and so we stood there and waited… and waited and waited… It’s eight sharp, the door should creak open and two little Italian women with head scarves and toothless smiles should now warmly welcome us into their kitchen, right? Nope. Hungry and frustrated and Ada now protesting we gave up at 8:15 and decided one of them must have been sick. It didn’t occur to me until later, that on Italian time, dinner at eight may have meant eight-ish or when the sauce was done cooking.

Up the road we found an almost empty trattoria and the checkered tablecloths invited us in. We took a seat in the back corner and relaxed. We ordered a ½ liter of wine and two courses. Ada immediately transformed into the fussy toddler. She sat in the high chair until she almost squirmed out. Then on to Dad’s lap: one one-thousand, two one-thousand; she whines and reaches for me, okay, hand her over the table to Mom’s lap: one one-thousand, two-one thousand – louder whines; okay, I’ll take her outside. The table right behind me is now taken, so they shuffle their chairs to let us out; once outside --“DA-DA…DA-DA!” Back inside onto his lap, more shuffling of chairs, and I squeeze myself back to the table and to my freshly arrived Pasta Ametricana (sp!) We hoped the food would occupy her, but she spit everything out. The restaurant is now completely full (we’re the only tourists) and we are only half way through dinner. Chugging the wine did not drown my anxiety. I glared at my husband since it was his idea to order two courses, but even that tried-and-true tactic didn’t relieve my tension. Second course arrived; I ordered the chicken and potatoes again (not as good as Piazza Narvona) my husband ordered tripe (he says it tasted really rubbery half way through; the image of a cow’s stomach didn’t help) and we ate as quickly as possible. Ada somehow whacked her self in the eye in the midst of a back bending protest and the restaurant filled with her wails. People turned to look, saw that her wound wasn’t squirting blood, and went back to drinking wine and socializing with their friends and family. I, on the other hand was hot with stress and ready to leave. We asked for the check, the waitress, a lovely woman, brought it, we paid (forgot to leave a tip), and our neighbors shuffled their chairs to let us out. No nasty looks, no relieved signs at our departure and even a few warm, understanding smiles.

We learned our lesson. You do not take a toddler out to dinner during their scheduled bedtime. The parent’s timetable adjusts to the child, not the reverse. If your child is miserable, you will be, too.


Day 5: The Forum and Colosseum

The Forum was a twenty minute walk from out apartment. For this area of Rome two perhaps three days are needed, at least for history fanatics, such as myself. We saw only half of what we wanted (with regret we skipped the Palatine Hill, Trajan’s Column/Forum and the Mamertine Prison – I enjoy prisons almost as much as cathedrals.)

Beautiful blue sky, nothing but ruins sprawled in front of me – I was in love all over again. I tried to absorb as much of the Roman marble and brick my mind could handle, but I knew I wouldn’t fully appreciate the scope of life and death in just a few hours. Ada missed it all; her focus was three feet off the ground, picking up rocks, chasing a pigeon and navigating Roman roads made of large flat stones, at the quickest speed her little feet could manage. DH and I had the freedom to relax and stroll leisurely. We watched a Gardner snake weave in and out of a brick wall and Ada climb on pieces of fallen marble columns. We ate lunch (brought with us) and changed a diaper at the Basilica of Constantine; Ada and a little German girl, same age, poked at each other while we chatted with the parents. We saw many families, European and America, with small children, vacationing in Rome.

At the Colossuem, Ada passed out in the backpack, we dodged the guys dressed as gladiators, and the “tour guides” luring tourists with promises of skipping long lines for a fee (If you want a tour, follow a group around once inside. It’s hard to avoid them)

The Colossuem was a bit of a let down. Perhaps I was too historically burned out or maybe my expectations were too high. Yes, it’s impressive but I didn’t feel the emotional pull I wanted. Walking around in the stands, looking in, I imagined crowds of Romans roaring for the blood of some poor guy being chased by a tiger or gladiator riding a chariot. I imagined the floor filling with water and naval ships reenacting battle scenes. But the experience was detached. I wanted to be in the center looking out at the crowds; I wanted to feel the desperation of the victims and the adoration of a victorious gladiator. The view is almost the same whether you are downstairs or up but they did have an interesting exhibit (that we were too bleary to enjoy), a bookstore with lots of fun trinkets to buy and its worth skipping the stairs to ride the glass elevator.

On our way home we found the Cat Sanctuary and took a break to watch them wander around. It’s a fascinating place, even if you don’t like cats, because it’s like someone cut a gigantic square out of modern Rome (it’s next to a major intersection) and exposed a bit of ancient Rome still living underneath.


Next: our last day in Rome and the drive out of Rome (was that really my idea?)

On DH's first trip to Rome, 11 years ago, he got a Pope John Paul bottle opener 'outside the Vatican Walls'. It was his personal mission to buy as many Pope Benedict bottle openers for all his friends on our recent trip to Italy. The guy selling them must have thought we were crazy, because we bought his entire stock (OK, it was only 5), but DH was thrilled.

I'm enjoying your trip report so much! Please keep it coming.

I'm impressed that you took your toddler on such a long flight. I just had a baby 6 weeks ago, and even going to Wal-mart is difficult at times right now! I hope once we get past this newborn phase, he'll become a good traveler b/c DH and I both love to be on the go. Again, great report!

It does get easier after the new born phase. Before we went to Italy we took a short trip to Tucson (to visit my brother) when she was six months. Because she had no problems with the two hour flight, we bought our tickets for Italy. I took her back to Arizona (by myself) at thirteen months, a lot more work (!) but it built my confidence and helped ease my panic about the ten hour flight.

Another note, we did send our postcards through the Italian post without any problems.

Michellen - it's good to know the bottle openers do/did exisit. Not finding it was one of my few regrets.

Please don't leave us hanging . . . please do like Paul Harvey and give us "the rest of the story!"

Sandy (in Denton)

I'm with Sandy B,

I just cuaght up with the report over lunch and your detaila nd story telling broght be right back to Rome (in spirit), hopefully in person in the fall.
cassparker

Sorry for the delay, I was away visiting my brother all last week (no flying but a long six hour drive).

Day 6: Last day in Rome

We spent a week in Rome and didn’t see half of what we wanted. Traveling with a child slows you down and limits what you can see (museums were out) and when you can see it (nothing after dark). Plus, a day of rainy weather, my morning head cold and not effectively using a map caused a lot of poorly used time. We decided to use this day to show Ada the Trevi Fountain, visit the Spanish Steps and Borghese Gardens and maybe, just maybe, if we timed it right, we could do a quick tour of the Vatican Muesum (to see the Sistine Chapel) during an Ada nap.

We went to the Trevi Fountain by way of Campo dei Fiori where we bought two scarves and a basket of blueberries (the sweetest I’ve ever tasted). We threw our coins into the Trevi Fountain and attempted to find the Spanish Steps. We went too far up Via Corso and came on to the steps from the top. From the top, they looked like a staircase, so we walked to the bottom figuring that must be the correct way to experience this hot tourist attraction. At the bottom we still didn’t see the point: it’s a stair case with people sitting on the steps, did we miss something? Back up the stairs we continued walking left and found the Borghese Gardens. It was the first green we’ve seen in a week. We drank in the trees and grass, took a deep breath, exhaled, and strolled along a gravel road lined with tree canopies and couples canoodling on benches. Ada ran ahead picking up rocks. We crossed an overpass and watched the cars zooming into Rome. We knew that tomorrow, we would be in one of those cars and the panic set in about tomorrow’s adventure..

We strolled our way out of the gardens and into Piazza del Popolo and watched those same cars from the overpass fly into heavy Rome traffic. Did I mention that the streets don’t have individual lanes? The drivers create their own, and if a street can fit three lanes of traffic, then there are three lanes, until someone parks in the third lane, then a stream of cars instantly merges into two lanes, all at fast speed. Fascinating to watch, but I didn’t want to experience it in the passenger seat with DH at the wheel.

Scaffolding covered the obelisk, like many other sights in Rome, so we continued on, heading for the Tiber River, then south to the Vatican. The walk took much longer then we anticipated and the roads were congested with exhaust. By the time we made it to the Vatican, Ada was still awake and we were exhausted. The museum wasn’t an option - huge disappointment. We dragged our bodies back to the apartment and called it a day. We spent the afternoon packing, cleaning, and studying our route from the rental car company out of Rome. It felt like a waste of a day; I spent my time focused on all the museums and cathedrals I skipped. The street was twice as noisy that night, DH finally left the bedroom and slept on the sofa in the living room, while I stayed with Ada and cursed the Vespas. I was ready for Tuscany.


Day 7: The Drive

That morning we gathered our bags, ate a quick breakfast and waited for our taxi. (Natalia called the taxi for us). Our taxi driver was the first Italian we met who did not speak English – it was strangely refreshing. We showed him on the map our destination, underground rental lot at Borghese Gardens, he said “okay” and “no problem.” We circled around the underground parking lot for a few minutes while he cursed in Italian because he couldn’t find the EuroCar rental office. The cost was 12 Euros.

At the rental office (only a five minute wait, our pickup was at nine a.m.), DH befriended the rental agent and I chatted with other Americans, who lived about 10 miles from us in California. We prepaid for a four door, mid-size family car. But DH and the rental agent hit it off, and he upgraded us to a Alfa Romeo GT, dark blue, tinted windows and only two doors. It looked very zippy. DH peaked in the window, noticed the six gears and said we’d take it. He assured me the car seat would fit, and ran off to sign the papers. He was in love.

The rental agent gave us directions to the A1: right, left, left, straight. We should have asked if the first right was to get out of the garage, or once we already had left the garage. Before I continue, I need to mention that while I am the navigator and DH is the driver, our actual titles are “the panicker” and the “quick thinker.” “Quick thinker” took a left out of the garage, instead of a right, and I screamed out “that road heads to Piazza de Popolo!” he reversed down the on ramp (no one behind us) and took a right. Then we hit the roundabout and couldn’t figure out which right to take. We picked one, hit the main road, and then “that road heads to Piazza de Popolo!” DH pulls over, flips a U-turn and we head back and take the “other right.” Finally, we are headed in the correct direction, and take a left onto Via Salaria, which heads straight out of Rome. DH blended in beautifully with the other drivers. But via Salaria had a fork and we took the wrong prong: “We took the wrong road! We’re lost in Rome! We’ll never get out!” Thankfully, “quick thinker” ignored “panicker” and used common sense by making a right and connected us back to via Salaria. (Whew... I don’t know what I would do without him.) It truly is a straight shot out of Rome once on via Salaria, but my clammy hands clenched the map until we merged onto the A1. I tried to convince DH to stay in the safe slow lane but he was in his sports car in Italy and needed to use all six gears. I finally convinced him to slow down (your daughter is in the backseat!) and we cruised our way into Umbria.


ORVIETO

This town was a “must see” once I learned it was built on a plug of tuff (I have a minor Geology). Our plan was to stop in Orvieto for a few hours, park at the train station and take the funicular to the top. We unknowingly drove by the train station and started heading up the hill. We stopped at the first parking lot we found. Since it was only half way up the hill, we took escalators, which switch backed through a tunnel of tuff. Once on top, I realized I didn’t bring any Orvieto information, like a map.

We eventually found the Duomo and it glittering facade. But they were shooting an Italian movie in front which blocked our access. We watched them do a few takes (people walking out of the church) and then peaked our head into Tourist Information. No maps in English that week, so we grabbed one in German and did our best. We ate a horrible lunch (the hovering flies were an ignored clue to its quality) and we tried to wander around to look at ceramics. But I was still horribly uptight from DH driving and me navigating, and snapped at DH for letting Ada run around in the street, or touch the merchandise. Eventually we found a playground near the edge of the town. Ada played on the slide and we looked over the edge of the cliff and out at the fields of Umbria. The playground is next to a gravel road the curves the edge of the hill, no cars allowed, and perfect for a little one to run around, collect golden maple leaves and hug a few trees. I still kicked myself for not having any of the info I spent months gathering online. I knew the tour of the underground caves was out (could you imagine confining a toddler underground with innocent bystanders?) but I did want to see St. Patrick’s Well.

Magically, it was at the end of our gravel road, and over near the funicular that we missed in the car. We paid for our tickets and descended. I only wanted to go down a few steps, take a peek over the edge, and get out, but DH convinced me to go all the way. We went 240 steps down the spiral staircase deep into the earth, with only a circle of light above to remind us of the sky. Once at the bottom, Ada declared she was done, with a few whimpers, and parental guilt swept in. Great, now she will be forever afraid of the dark. We attempted to assure her by singing her favorite songs as we ran back up those steep 240 steps, passing a group of Americans along the way. We stopped twice desperate to catch our breath, but another whimper ushered us upward until we made it to fresh air. We collapsed against a wall, lungs burning, still worried we traumatized her (update: no noticeable damage) and enjoyed the sunny day. The Americans arrived a few moments later and one woman immediately said to us, with a snide smile, “she didn’t like that, did she?” I mentally threw a few daggers at her head (did she not notice us sprinting up the stairs?), and ignored her while we talked to her companions who were headed into Rome.

We went back to the Duomo and snuck through the side entrance with a cookie stuffed in Ada’s mouth. We had a few moments to admire its striped interior, before Ada took the cookie out and yelled “oohhhhh!” which echoed throughout, turning a few heads. We quickly left giggling uncontrollably. It was at that moment, while DH and I shared a good laugh over our daughter, that I finally relaxed and enjoyed Orvieto. We ran into retired couple from Florida, and chatted with them like old friends. They exemplified the positive side of American tourists: warm, friendly and jovial. I pulled DH away (he loves talking to new people) and we headed in the general direction of the escalators. I’m not sure how we found them; (looking over the side and seeing the parking garage did help) paid our parking fee at the machine, and headed out of Orvieto towards our final destination: Montepulciano.


MONTEPULCIANO


www.santantonio.com

Sant Antonio Country Resort is an old convent outside of Montepulciano (about a ten minute drive) that was converted into vacation rentals. I highly recommend staying here, especially if traveling with your family (they supply cribs and high chairs). The website accurately describes the accommodations, and Nico, the owner, is very friendly and professional. We felt at home from the moment we arrived.

Our apartment was on the second floor (private entrance) with views of the fields and lake. It was twice the size as our Rome apartment. One bedroom and a massive bathroom (I mean massive!), kitchen, a fireplace (which we used continually) and a loft. The apartment is stocked with wine and other beverages for sale.

We should have gone to the store before sunset. The directions were simple: left, left, a right, up the hill, then a sharp right turn before you enter Montepulciano. We had to turn around twice; first, we mistook a produce stand for the store, the second was when we began to ascend the hill right into Montepulciano and “panicker” worried we’d gone too far. “Quick thinker” responded with a dramatic U-turn into a narrow turnout along the side of the cliff. There we were staring down the headlights of oncoming traffic, trying to read the map. “Panicker” was wrong, we were actually going in the right direction but I yelled at him anyway for putting our life in danger. After another tight turn into the wrong lane to correct our direction we finally reached the store.

The store was packed with people shopping after work. I scrambled around finding stuff for dinner and breakfast while DH tried to entertain Ada, who was crying out hunger protests. In our rush of the day, we forgot to feed her after the Panini lunch disaster. DH opened up a box of crackers, hopeful it wasn’t a cultural no-no in Italy. The experience ended with long lines at the register and we stood behind the woman who paid for her weekly shopping with one Euro coins.

Somehow, we survived. DH made dinner (chicken with fresh spinach and ricotta ravioli), made a roaring fire in the fireplace, and I washed underwear and socks in the bathroom sink. Scrubbing socks was amazingly relaxing; the stress slipped away with the dirty water. Ada unwound by running in happy circles around the apartment. The night ended peacefully. Ada slept in her crib, DH and I drank red wine in front of the fire, surrounded by wet socks and underwear.

Was this the UH trip?
(Uninterested Husband)

Hi Starrsville, I think the DU was the husband of the lady from Australia with the little daughter..believe they are in Italy right now. Her name started with a G...I sure hope they are having a wonderful time.

Mebe, I so love your report and your descriptions. Lovely and smiling inducing trip report! I hope you were able to take a lot of photos of your little one..how special those will be in the future. BTW, your husband drives like mine did, lol!

I'm really enjoying your trip report - I begin to panic with you as you describe it! And then I relax and enjoy when you do. Wonderful writing - keep it coming, please!

Linda

mebe is a brand new screen name. Just wondered if it was the same person.

Call me crazy Mebe, I am leaving in week for a two week trip to Rome and Tuscany with a 3 year old and 15 month old twins! I am printing out your trip report to read with the segemnt of time I have and I am sure I will have many questions!

Yes, I am a different person. My husband loves to travel, and wanted to go to Italy, but he wasn't interested in planning our trip to Italy.

OK, guess I am wrong! Anyway mebe, it sounds like you had a great trip.

Changing names does get confusing though.

Your trip report gives me hope that I can fulfill my Nana promise to my grandson, Thomas, sooner than I had expected. I promised him that I would teach him to travel. Granted, he is only 5 months old right now but maybe within a year or so, we can start.

Let me clarify - I am not the woman from Australia with the uninterested husband. I'm actually from California. That's what I meant by "different person."

And I've never changed my screen name. It's also not brand new, I began posting questions about this trip about a year ago.

Thanks again for all the nice compliments. I'll post more soon.

Oh, I'm enjoying this because it is bringing back so many memories of travelling with my children when they were small! The frustration of having to fit in with their routines and not being able to see and do all that you would like, the inevitable marital squabbles and irritations, the romantic moments when baby finally falls asleep... oh yes, I remember!!

I also remember that travelling with just the one child is a doddle, whatever it seems like now, wait until you have 2 (or 4 like me)!

And I found it gets harder later on when they are all in their teens and want to do different things and bicker and argue constantly. OMG, just the thought of us trying to agree on which restaurant to eat in and the arguments and sulking that went on!

Now we have decided on separate holidays, I take the boys somewhere they want to go for a few days, and right now they like fun things rather than sight-seeing, and then I take the girls on city breaks, like Paris, Barcelona, and in October I'm taking my second daughter - now 15 - to Rome, just the two of us, and we are so looking forward to it. It will be nice to be able to spend time together, and it will be so easy to decide where to eat!

Tana, good luck with your trip, have a great time, and did you recently read a trip report by Andalusia entitled Rome w/kids trip report, because she went with a 4yo and 1yo, and managed to see and do a lot.

This is a true pleasure to read... thank you so much for taking the time to post. Your honesty and humor are delightful!

I can relate to so many of your situations after traveling to Rome and Tuscany with our preschoolers last summer. Yes, we are crazy too, as I plan for our return trip this summer... this time adding on Venice as well.

I searched & searched for that "Pope-e-ner" too, to no avail, after hearing about them from my tour guide. Where are they?!!

I have to say it again - I love this report!!! I adore your last line "Ada slept in her crib, DH and I drank red wine in front of the fire, surrounded by wet socks and underwear." Gosh that makes me smile.

Sally

Hi mebe, I misunderstood your comment, thanks for explaining. I am really loving your report. We use to take our daughter on trips when she was a toddler so I can so relate to your experiences. And teens,sigh, aren't they a handful julia, lol. With my grandsons it is seperate trips also..otherwise one of them is always unhappy!

mebe, I can only echo what amarena said: "Your honesty and humor are delightful."

Truly an enjoyable account, and an inspiration to anyone worrying about travelling with toddlers.

Anselm

Great trip report - would you return to Italy in November? weather pros and cons? Thanks...

Tana - you are crazy and and inspiration. I will help you with any questions you have, and I hope you post your own trip report!

dorkforcemom - that's a good question. It's hard to plan a trip around weather. In general, we had wonderful weather but I think we may try for a week or two earlier, like late October. But - prices are cheaper after Novermber, and the smaller crowds are worth a little rain. Plus, I don't like traveling in heat...Yes, I would go in November again.

I am thrilled you are enjoying our trip. It's been fun putting my random memories into words. I hope to post some pictures soon.
Here's some more!

Day 8: Ahh…Tuscany


We woke up at dawn to the sound of chirping birds and a burgeoning blue sky. The three of us agreed to take it easy, unwind and let Ada run around. After breakfast we explored the grounds and Ada discovered the cat Antonio. We stepped out our door into neatly trimmed green grass, patios with pots of red geraniums and borders of rosemary and lavender, Olive and Cypress trees, and a forest of Pine and Oak the crept up the hill behind the resort. We walked up a gravel road that divided the wild forest from the rows of olive trees. From the top of the hill, you can see the outline of Pienza.

Ada took a long nap, I read a John Grisham novel in front of the fire, and DH volunteered to go back to the supermarket. (He wanted to test out his sports car on the curvy roads without his white knuckled wife yelling at him to slow down.) By 3:30 our traveling spirits were refreshed and we jumped back in the car to drive somewhere. Our drive took us through hills, several shades of green, some deep brown from freshly tilled soil, others had fresh sprigs of grass dappled through out, and the grape vines were golden yellow. It reminded me of home.

We ended up on an extremely curvy road that made zigzagged down a steep hill. DH took this opportunity to show off how well our car hugged the road as we zipped around each turn. Once at the bottom, Ada expressed her displeasure with her father’s driving by throwing up her snack of yogurt, and calmly declaring “all done.” We parked the car at the base of little hill town and I gave him the pleasure of cleaning her and her car seat. I took pictures of Ada’s road, was recognized it at once as one of the famous cypress lined road constantly photographed.
(I read about it on www.slowtrav.com/italy/tuscany/cypress_roads.htm)

The town was Monticchiello. The streets were clean, the stone houses decorated with green shutters and red doors, geraniums cluttered the window sills and yellow grape leaves spiraled up the doorways. There was one restaurant full of locals on siesta. The town was almost empty except for a few tourists. There was this one old woman who walked by and looked as old as the stone in the walls. We smiled and she gave us this horrible scowl, until we passed and she saw Ada on Aaron’s back. She stopped walking, a smile burst across her face and she cried out “Bella! Bella!” and continued on her way.

We left after an hour of wandering and enjoying the view of the Tuscan hills at sunset. We made it back to our little home in time for dinner, some CNN International and another late evening of drinking wine and reading in front of the fire.



Day 9: San Gimignano and Lost at Sunset

Aaron wanted to go to San Gimignano after we watched the movie “Tea with Mussolini.” Recharged from yesterday, we set off for our next adventure.

I studied my Touring Guide Italiano Driving Atlas, and decided the trip would take us forty-five minutes. I was wrong. I hope someone can explain how anyone navigates through the area. Most of the roads don’t have names or numbers, but numerous signs all pointing to different towns and their distance down that particular road. If your destination isn’t on the sign, you have to quickly scan the map and pick on the mentioned signs nearest your route. Mixed in with the town signs are other signs for wineries, spas, hotels and restaurants; it’s a confused mess for someone who isn’t familiar with the area. However, I will admit I am not the best navigator, by foot or car, so perhaps my complaint has more to do with my own abilities, rather than Italy’s infrastructure.

We didn’t have driving problems until we reached Siena. On my map, the bold red line that indicated the main road we were driving dissipated into a squiggly yellow line cutting through the heart of Siena. We spent a few minutes driving around Siena until we found the turnoff onto another red line that led in the general direction of San Gimignano.

Our next mistake was to ignore the map and use one of those handy road signs that said San Gimignano with an arrow. Just because it mentions the town it doesn’t mean that’s the most direct way to get to the town. But it was a lovely drive on a littler road that cut through more hills dotted with villas and cypress trees. We saw the town in the distance and were relieved we made it, an hour later. We pulled into the empty parking lot, next to what I believed, from my Rick Steves map, to be the Rocca, an enclosed park. It had thick stone walls, an empty moat, drawbridge and turrets.

When we entered through the lowered drawbridge, we did not find a grassy field, but an entire town. What a shock! We kept walking with our jaws dropped, totally befuddled. This was not the Rocca, this was not San Gimignano. Back in the car, looking at my map, I discovered we were in Colle di Val d’Elsa, a different hill town, and south of S. Gimi. The town was lovely, and a perfect example of hill town completely hidden by massive stone walls.

Finally, we made it to S. Gimi and thankfully, we loved it. The town felt open and relaxed and it immediately transformed us from frazzled drivers into tranquil tourists. Still a lot of people, so I imagine it’s quite congested during “tourist season”. Our first stop was lunch, which we ate at an outdoor café next to Piazza del Duomo. While DH ordered us more paninis (these ones were exceptionally good) and coffee, I followed Ada around who found more pigeons to chase in the square. We sat next to another family, from England, who had a baby near the same age. Our children made spit bubbles s at each other while we all ate; people watched and absorbed the laid back ambiance.

We did a lot of trinket buying (salt and pepper shakers, wine stoppers, postcards of the road Ada erped on, and other knickknacks). I lusted over all the beautiful ceramic bowls and platters I couldn’t afford while DH and Ada wandered the streets. We also did a lot of gawking, at the towers, the arches, down the well and at those faded murals.

After a few hours we sadly headed home; our goal was to make it to at least Pienza before dark. Once again, the roads signs fooled us we lost our way in Siena. Instead of a marker with E78 on it (which is on my map) they listed three choices: Florence, Grosseto or Rome. Grosseto was too far east, Florence too far north so we chose Rome, guessing we would be shot back to the A1; a round about way to get home, but at least we would get home.

Big mistake came when one of those devious signs with a town name that looked similar to a small town we drove through that morning lured “quick thinker” off the road before I could utter a navigators protest. Yes, it was the wrong town, and the turn back to the main road was closed for construction. We took the “detour” through the lackluster town and ended up on a single lane road that paralleled the major road. This continued for a few miles, until our little road slowly drifted away into the Tuscan countryside, away from our needed road and civilization. Suddenly our road, which went straight into the horizon that blended in with the dusty, yellow fields surrounding us, and the pale yellow sky in front, took a drastic left turn. DH locked the brakes and made the turn, barely. When I looked at him to say one of my typical smart-ass comments, I noticed he looked ill. It was a close call.

The next half-hour we toured the green rolling hills of Tuscany, on a single lane road, behind a very slow student driver (our luck to be stuck behind a student driver in the middle of no where), with a setting sun and thick band of ominous fog creeping towards us in the horizon. I decided we would end up spending the night in our car, the future looked so bleak. But finally, we came into a town with a sign that said “Montepulicano” and my atlas agreed. By the time night hit and the fog smothered the valley, we could see our hill town in the distance. We pulled into the driveway, laughed a bewildered laugh, ate dinner and of course, drank more wine.


Day 10: Montepulicano

Another easy day, our only goal was to visit Montepulciano, and stock up at the grocery store. I should point out, we still don’t have a stroller. I strongly recommend a stroller when touring hill towns, because they’re hilly. A backpack was fine on the flat streets of Rome, but walking up hill on uneven cobblestones is exhausting, and puts a damper on the idea on exploring. Montepulicano was especially steep so we stuck to the main road. I regret not taking the time to wander off down the narrow allies covered by delicate arches that connected the buildings. Many such passages led to the edge of town with what looked like spectacular views, but like I said, we were (alright, DH was) weighed down and wasn’t eager to dilly-dally around. The backpack also prevented us from exploring the wine caves (cantinas), where they sold wine, had wine tasting and tasty munches to eat. DH’s profile was too wide to maneuver around the towers of glass bottles. However, despite these setbacks, we enjoyed the little town and all their shops. We bought presents for family (olive oil bottle and wine bottle opener), came upon a flea market in Piazza Grande, which sold “antiques” and products from Guatemala, including CD’s of traditional Guatemalan music, one of which they blasted through their radio and down the streets. At sunset we took pictures of persimmon trees heavy with orange fruit, marveled how the stone building turned apricot in color, and shivered uncontrollably from the penetrating wind. We left soon after, but not before the church bells rang, and Ada imitated with “bong… bong… bong…” My heart skipped a beat with pleasure at the thought she will always love the sound of church bells because they will remind her of Italy. I know, a bit far fetched, but perhaps the sound will remind her of a happy moment in her childhood.


Day 11: Abbey Tour, Mean Man and Pienza

We had hill town fatigue. Each town was beginning to blur together, and we were uninterested in trudging up steep hills to look at stone buildings, amazing vistas and buy more touristy junk. I searched my guidebook, and determined a route for visiting two abbeys.

High light of the day: WE NEVER GOT LOST!

The day began with a crisp, fall wind and the threat of rain. It was beautiful drive from Montepulciano to Montalcino, hills various shades of green and brown, villas dotting the tops with cypress lined driveways, and road signs every ten feet. DH and I joked that the “sign Union” must be powerful, because we saw signs for rockslides, deep ditches, the constantly changing speed limits, and all their variations depending if the road is dry, wet, covered in snow or hidden by fog, or just to warn you that speed limit will change but it will in a few kilometers. Plus, the massive clusters at all intersections for hotels, restaurants, ectera.

We drove right by Montalcino (no hill towns today!) on our way to Abbey Di Sant Antimo. No tourists, gravel road, quiet except for rustling leaves. No backpack needed since Ada could freely run ahead. The Abbey looked just as the guide book pictures promised, except the inside was completely covered in scaffolding. DH, who used to put the stuff together in his carpenter days, studied its construction, while I tried to peak around it. It turned into a short and sweet visit but also rejuvenated our urge to explore, so we set off Abbey Di Monte Oliveto Maggiore.

We traveled north and the rolling hills turned steeper and rugged, with exposed white ravines. This abbey was hidden within a cypress forest; obvious tourist spot with large paved parking lot, gift shop and restaurant. We hit the gift shop first and bought some Grappa (I was clueless that monks made alcohol) and small jars of honey. I also visited the dirtiest bathroom of the trip. I had to use a squat toilet; with all its mounds of you-know-what and I honestly believe it has never been cleaned. No toilet paper, or paper towels, and years of grime covered the sink. Top that off with a wet floor, and I was repulsed, and decided I needed to educate myself on Catholic Monks. I thought cleanliness was next to Godliness? Were women less Godly? DH debunked my theory when he told me that the men’s bathroom was just as gross.

We walked to the monastery down a charming, uneven brick lane surrounded by cypress trees. We saw many signs in Italian requesting visitors to be respectfully quiet, so we did our best to muffle Ada.

Exploring the monastery with Ada was impossible and I had an epiphany (about time!): why don’t we tour the inside separately? (all the cathedrals in Rome I missed…) I went first and enjoyed every peaceful moment – alone! The inner courtyard was covered in exquisite pastel murals. I didn’t bother looking at what the painting represented; I just blurred all the people together and drank in the soothing color. I shared the mural with a German couple, and the woman had the nerve to answer her cell phone and spend the next five minutes yelling a one sided conversation. If I can leave my child outside, she could turn her cell phone off - unbelievably rude.

I followed the wafting smell of lunch into the dining hall, and watched a monk set the tables. Next, up a staircase into a library covered with bookcases, the doors covered in glass, then onto the pharmacy, shelves lined with ceramic jars of medicine. There was also a painting of a mother and child and the woman’s deep eyes penetrated me. She was looking into me, as a mother. It was a beautiful moment that still brings tears to my eyes. I will never forget her.

DH took his own tour; while I followed Ada around the little court yard, desperate to keep her reasonably quiet. One monk that passed smiled and another frowned.

Starving, we went back up the brick road to the restaurant. It was dark and cozy inside, one large Italian family eating lunch and an American (or Canadian) couple in the opposite corner. Our waitress (who was apart of the Italian family) got up and offered us a table, and the “grandmother” also stopped eating and brought us a high chair, followed by a long sentence in Italian; I only recognized “bella bambina” and her warm smiles. I was nervous about eating inside (remember Rome?) but Ada did exceptionally well, and entertained herself with her toys and sugar packets.

However, the man half of the couple did nothing but give me looks of disgust. His eyes despised me for having the nerve to bring a child into a restaurant and ruin the end of his quintessential Italian lunch. It was the type of restaurant one hopes to experience, loud Italian family included. And I would understand his annoyance if Ada was running around the restaurant screaming, but she was sitting peacefully – so what was his problem?

The malicious glares continued and I was getting ticked off. I was trying to relax and enjoy my anti pasta but his rudeness hit a nerve. Thankfully, DH had his back to him, or there would have been an unpleasant confrontation. Instead of making a scene, (because it really did call for one of my rarely uttered “excuse me, a**hole, what’s your problem?”) and spent my time mentally mocking him for his shockingly white sneakers, jeans that were too short, button up shirt covered in brilliant tropical flowers and his unwillingness to say “thank you” or any other simple phrase in Italian. Who doesn’t at least say “grazie”? And, for a cherry on top, I watched his squirm with impatience when after the waitress took his plates, and he didn’t ask for his check, she sat back down to continue her meal with her family. He couldn’t believe it! And I loved it. He finally got her attention, paid, and thankfully, left. I continued my meal: pasta with bacon and tomato, DH got pasta with meat sauce, followed by an amazing berry tart, full of local berries that burst in your mouth. Best meal yet. An Italian man sat down near us, and entertained Ada with smily faces and peek-a-boo. We made pleasant conversation with the waitress who was warm and delightful, asked for our bill, paid and left totally satisfied and in love with Italy.

Even though we swore to skip hill towns, we couldn’t resist Pienza. Not only was it flat, but DH was obsessed with seeing the Duomo’s altar sliding the down the hill. (DH loves anything that involves construction). The altar was noticeably lower, and DH gawked in amazement and studied their methods of stabilizing it. We arrived during siesta so the streets were empty and shops closed. Faded murals still dotted stone walls, streets were flat so we took time to explore. Once the shops reopened, we bought some biscotti, fancy soap, postcards an stamps. Our goal was to buy Pecornio, but that goat cheese smelled too much like rotting mushrooms and sheep dung. I simply couldn’t get myself to taste it – a bit of a disappointment because I rarely meet a cheese I don’t like. We ended our visit with a romantic stroll along Via dell’ Amore, enjoyed another view of Tuscany at dusk; more spectacular than before, due to looming rain clouds.

I love your description of your "Mean Man" encounter... don't you just love people like that. Ugh! And I like your mental mocking of him. Maybe you should have complained to him about his uncomfortable squirming, "excuse me, sir... would you mind keeping it down over there... you are disturbing my daughter!"

Give pecorino another chance... some of the aged ones have a strong scent, but there are also fresh pecorinos which are very mild. My kids love these, & I guarantee that you will too. Oh, and just so you know... it's a sheep's milk cheese, not goat.

Thank you so much for this wonderful post! The stories made me smile, and even more excited (if that is possible!) for my first trip to Italy this summer! Thanks!

amarena - yes, sheep milk. My journal also corrected me, it was the smell of wet wool, not goat dung, that killed my appetite. Thanks! I will give Pecorino another try.

such a nice thread, and a nice account about bringing your daughter. I ran into a couple in Corniglia who had their 4-month (!) old child with'em. They decided to use her maternity leave and venture out with the baby, including the hike from Riomaggiore to Vernazza... incredible! Perhaps Rome on the next trip to Italy...

Great trip report! I love your descriptions of the towns, the people (good and bad), and the driving -- they really evoke a sense of place. Keep 'em coming!

Warm weather, an almost two year old and a great book have kept me from the computer.

Here is the last installment. Enjoy!



Day 13: Rain, rain and more rain…oh well.

We woke up to rain. At first it felt romantic: rain blanketing the hills around us, a roaring fire, and engaging books to read. By the afternoon, we had thundershowers, blustery wind, unrelenting rain, and the gloom set in. Our trip was a few days from ending, and all I could see in our future was soggy sightseeing, if we were lucky to anything at all. Thankfully, the clouds broke by nightfall and we went to slept gazing out our window at the moon and a few stars.


Day 14: I think we are in Assisi…

The rain left and heavy fog took its place. We could barely see beyond the cypress tree 50 feet out our window. But we were determined to get out and a little fog was not going to get in our way. We picked Assisi. We drove in dense white for two hours. We assumed Assisi was high enough that we would be surrounded by fog, but definitely not in it. We were wrong.

The fog was a novelty, at first. The narrow, curved streets were lined with white stone buildings that beautifully blurred into the horizon of heavy mist. We were transported back hundreds of years into a period film. We were little kids eager to run down the roads just to peak around each corner.

But our dreamy moment ended quickly with the strong urge to find a restroom. Our mission was hindered by massive roadwork. They tore up the main access into town; a steep, stone street was reduced to a two foot wide metal plank. We carefully walked down behind an older woman who was very nervous about falling into the massive pit (once road) and took her time. She took a very, long time. By the time we reached Piazza Comune, our restroom situation was dire. We followed the signs for Basilica St. Francis assuming a restroom was sure to appear along that route. As always, there are many paths to one destination, and we took the one that went up hill into a residential area - no bathrooms. Ada is whining and DH and I are crotchety and about to burst.

We made a hairpin turn and there it was: a neon sign flashing “café” with loud music and warm light pumping out the open door. DH headed straight for the toilet sign, and my rumbling stomach gazed at the pizza. My turn in the toilet, I return, and DH has ordered pizza and hot chocolate – unusual combination, but very tasty. It was the first time Ada had tasted hot chocolate and there is nothing like Italian hot chocolate. To celebrate we left her chocolate mustache on for the rest of day.

We continued our trek to the basilica, in the fog, and stopped at a small church on the way to the “real deal.” At least it looked small in the mist. I took the first tour, stared at the turquoise and blue ceiling, and then gave DH his turn, which took forever. He returned and informed me it was actually the Basilica of St. Francis (the literature in the basilica gave it away).The fog reduced this massive landmark into quaint church, eliminating the towers and arches. Since he saw both basilicas and the tomb, I went back to see the rest. The lower basilica was dark and muted and the tomb was quiet and solemn; you could feel that the walls were nine feet thick. (On a very frivolous side note, I received a lot of “male attention” while touring St. Francis’ tomb - a strange place to hit on a girl.)

After the Basilica, we literally wandered around for another three hours. We peaked in a few tacky trinket shops, and found nothing to buy. We also discovered St. Claire’s church, which was closed, but the outside was stunning. The church was constructed of perfect white and pink stripes, and white and pink checkers, bordered on one side with ice blue pools. We tried to find the Rocca Maggiore, the “big castle;” but those tricky Italian signs pointed us into a car lot, (I swear!) with no castle in sight. Assisi is very steep and even though DH and I took turns carrying Ada, her weight combined with the heavy moisture turned us very cranky, very quickly. We gave up on seeing any Umbrian vista, or any other significant sight, and decided to head back to the car and back home. The lowest point of our trip was driving down the hill, away from Assisi, and seeing the fog begin to clear from the town we just spend half a day wishing to see. We saw St. Francis’s entire Basilica, for the first time, from the back window of our car. The entire valley cleared within minutes, but I was too defeated to enjoy the view.

In hindsight, we should have shed our American need to “keep moving” and absorbed more of the Italian “just sit, wait awhile, it’s no big deal” attitude. If we had taken the time to sit, unwind, take a break, we would have enjoyed a beautiful, sunny day and Assisi in all its glory.


Day 15: Our last chance…Siena

This was the last day before we packed up and drove back to Rome and then on to home. We woke up to fog (will it never end?) and thought if we waited awhile it would dissipate. So we waited all morning, and still, thick, awful fog. We gave up, went to stock up on going home supplies at the store and then head off to Siena. The store was incredibly full of unperturbed people and their shopping carts, once again clogging up the aisles. DH and I bickered on what type of candy to bring home to all the nieces and nephews. We returned to the car, Ada was hungry, so DH fed her yogurt, and she flicked her spoonful on his pants. Now he had to go home and change (oh brother). When leaving, we stopped at the stop light on a steep hill and DH left it in third gear. He stalled three times, rolling back a little bit on each stall into the line of cars behind us. “Honey, you’re in third gear.” He went into first, moved into the intersection, then the light turned red, and he stopped. “You’re in the middle of a roundabout, you can’t stop!” He stalls again. I’m hysterical (I’m still giggling). He finally remembered how to drive and we set off for home.

My light mood is quickly weighed down by DH’s desire to take his sweet time eating a bowl of cereal while I anxiously passed the floor. An HOUR later, we FINALLY leave for Siena. Doesn’t he realize we have only one day left, and he just wasted a precious hour eating cereal? I could have killed him. But, he is the father of my child, and the driver, so I needed him to get us back to Rome.

When we reached Siena it was mid-afternoon. We simply didn’t have the time to fully enjoy this wonderful town. Alright, I was also horribly annoyed at DH and feeling rushed since it was our last day, so my mood partly spoiled any relaxed “Italian” experience. We toured the Duomo separately (the façade was completely covered in scaffolding). It was the first time I paid to see a religious building. I bought just the single ticket, and DH bought the more cost efficient ticket that also paid for the Duomo Museum and Baptistery.

I loved the Duomo. My favorite view was to stand in the front, on the side, and look across at the green and white stripes blur into each other. Plus, the Piccolomini Library was also worth a long visit.

Next was the museum, which we had to visit since DH got the special ticket. I complained that visiting a museum was impossible and that he wasted his money with a combo ticket. Thankfully, DH ignored my pessimism, grabbed Ada in the backpack, and a bite of sandwich, poked it in her mouth, and pulled me along into our first museum. We did a quick tour (sculpture doesn’t do it for me), giggled at all the shocked looks at a toddler in a “quiet place” and headed up to “Panorama del Facciatore.” DH barely fit up the spiral staircase and Ada stopped eating to comment. Since I stopped to admire a tapestry, I was at the bottom, while DH climbed his way to the top. I opened the door to the staircase and laughed a mother’s laugh at the happy sounds of her daughter and her husband having a conversation that echoed down an ancient stone staircase. Thank god DH forces me to look beyond my pessimism and enjoy myself.

I love a good view, and this one gave you the Duomo, the secular tower and Il Campo, all of the red roofs of Siena, plus the Tuscan hillside with a sky full of scattered clouds and low sun. It was windy (the fog was gone!) and freezing, but we toughed it out for a few photos, deep breaths of invigorating Italian air (which swept out all my ill feelings against DH), descended, toured the rest of the museum, the Baptistry and headed off for Il Campo.

Il Campo felt like a wonderful place to spend an afternoon in warm weather but it was freezing. Ada ran around until her nose turned red and began to run, I bought more trinkets and sampled panforte (the stuff we bought at our supermarket was cheaper and just as tasty) and we found a café with a view of the Il Campo, sat inside and ate pasta and coffee. The sun had set by the time we made our way through the town back to the parking lot. I wished we had an entire day to enjoy Siena’s vibrant energy. Another regret, but also another reason to return.

We sang to Ada for the two hour trip home, made one last fire in our little home, and packed up our bags for Rome.


Day 16: Rome and (sigh) Home

DH loaded Ada and the bags into the car and I took one last tour of our apartment. We made wonderful memories in this little space and I was sad to leave. But Rome called us and I was eager to get the drive behind us.

Because our flight was early the following morning, we decided to stay at the Hilton near the airport. It was expensive, but worth the money for the convenience. We figured we would arrive, unpack, and then leave to see Ostia Antica for the final stop of our trip. “Panicker” did not panic once, and we navigated Rome’s ring road without problems. We arrived at our hotel within two hours.

The hotel staff was incredibly helpful. The “bell boy” drove DH to our car in the parking lot, helped us load our luggage, then drove DH to the airport and showed him where to drop off our rental car. He also told us that since we had a child, the next morning we could request using the shuttle that was reserved only for pilots and flight attendants. We collapsed in our room, and let the last two weeks wash over us. We were exhausted. You know you’re truly tired when lying on a hotel bed sounds better than exploring an ancient sea port covered in volcanic ash. DH returned the rental car, we hung around the hotel, and made a practice run to the airport using the moving walkways. We ate dinner at the hotel (made a huge mess when Ada dumped her water), I called my Mom to tell her when to pick us up and we went to sleep.


Day 17: Going Home…

We skipped the shuttle and used the moving sidewalks without incident. We sat at our gate with other half-awake travelers, and watched the sun rise over the tarmac. Ada ran around gleefully, and I let her. I figured that the weary travelers would prefer her loud in an airport rather than loud on a plane. And I was right: once we took our seats, she fell fast asleep.

One interesting incident: we experienced a bit of “air rage” and yes, it had it be a young American woman causing the ruckus. She came on last and couldn’t find room for her two large bags in the overhead compartment. She complained to the flight attendant, a pleasant English man, that she always had this problem whenever she flew British Airways. He adjusted a few bags, she handed him her bag, and he said it was against policy to put the bag in, but he could assist her, in putting the bag in. Well, she had a fit and whined how difficult it was being a single woman traveling alone (give me a break!) and angrily attempted to shove in her bag. He tried to help but the space was too small. She violently pulled it down, with his hands still attached, ripped it out of his hands and screeched “You bastard!”

Our section of the plane stopped all conversation and stared. The young guy looked like he wanted to pummel her, but very politely replied in his lovely English accent “excuse me?” To make a long story a bit shorter, she gave a forced apology after having a “talking to” by the head flight attendant. When we excited the plane, two security guards took her aside and we never saw her again. She was the only excitement on an otherwise uneventful trip back to San Francisco.


I am satisfied. All expectations met.

Those are the last two sentences of my journal. Of course I didn’t see it all, and some days weren’t as exciting or fulfilling as other days. But that’s life. Traveling isn’t about just the goods times, it’s about absorbing a new experience.


My Advice for Other Crazy Parents:

Do what is best for your family. Ignore those people who give you nothing but horrors stories (told to them from a friend of a friend) of traveling with small children. Research well, over pack, keep your options and minds open. Share all child responsibilities with your partner. Sneak in some alone time. Try to relax and enjoy the small moments. See your destination through the eyes of your child. Laugh a lot.

I am already dreaming about our next adventure. Since I am pregnant with our second child, it’s at least two years away, but I figure within that time, I will gather enough nerve to travel with two small children. And I promise to write a trip report.

Great report! Brought back wonderful memories of our trip to Tuscany and Rome. We were on our last 2 days this time last year.

Thank you for sharing!

Well, the last paragraph brought tears to my eyes. Congratulations and thank you for sharing your family experience. Ada and the chocolate moustache is precious!

Enjoy your little ones while you can. They grow quickly and those memories will mean even more to you then.

Thanks LCBoniti. I don't think we will traveling any where soon. We found out today we're expecting twin boys. HOLY COW!

Twins! Congratulations!!

I enjoyed every second of your trip report.

Anselm

Oh Wow mebe!!! Congratulations, and I sincerely mean it! What a busy but fun life you will all have. I haven't read the balance of your report yet but saw your post and just had to post here to tell you that your news has me smiling from ear to ear. I have had several friends that have had twins..all very happy families.

Twin boys?! Congratulations - I sense a lot of nervous pigeons in your future!

We did a trip much like yours when our daughter was 11 months old. Your joys and frustrations brought back many similar memories, particularly the restaurant experiences.

We went to Paris when our children were 5 and 2-1/2. Your comments on ignoring the negative comments about traveling with little ones are right on. I truly enjoyed reading your posts.

Have a great trip. Disneyland Paris is fun, even if you've been to WDW. I don't know why many people think it's odd to go while in Paris if you're from the states. It's only a day, only a short train ride, and it's interesting to see the differences, cultural and otherwise - for example, Space Mountain is MUCH better in Paris, but don't try and line up and wait seperately for the front row once at the ride itself (which is the norm here in the states), they'll think you're nuts!

John

Wow, mebe, what a great report. I loved your trip summary.

Congratulations on your pregnancy times two! We have 2 boys (not at the same time) who keep our lives hopping, but they are such fun. Never fear, you will be traveling again soon - in the meantime, enjoy these special times. Three little ones won't mean no travels, just an accommodation in your planning and attitude which you seem to have already!

Thanks for such a real and personal report.

Oops, my previous post was meant for another thread - sorry!

THanks for your report and congratulations! Aren't you even happier that you squeezed in your trip to Italy?!!

Hello again mebe, I so enjoyed the balance of your trip report. Isn't the fog terrible? I am use to fog but the fog in Italy is really scary, particularly when one has to drive in it.

I would imagine you and your DH (he sounds like a real great man) will be taking lots of trips with your three children! And no doubt you will return to beautiful Italy. I would also imagine that Ada will be a beautiful "big sister" to your her little twin brothers. They will be a perfect age difference, I bet she ends up spoiling them rotten.

My very best wishes to you and your family. And I hope you will let us know when your two little angels arrive! Take good care and dream beautiful dreams while you await their arrival.

Bookmarking for later. Thank you.

Wonderful!! Twins!!
We will all be impatiently waiting to read that trip report !! LOL
Much good luck to you and your family~

Yesterday delivered the shock of my life time.

Here is a mini trip report of the ultra sound appointment:

I am laying on the table, very full bladder, DH is near my feet, and the X-ray tech turns the screen to face me and says, very calmly "Before we begin, I need to tell you that I see two babies"

Mebe: (gasp) My hand clenchs my mouth and tears well up
DH: "What? Oh my God..." his head collasps into my legs
Mebe: (to tech) Are you sure? You need to look again!! (to DH) This is all your fault!

We spent the next two hours, while the ultra sound continued, calling family, laughing and looking at each other in total disbelief.

Back to traveling, since this is a traveling board, I've already started my daily affirmations that my life isn't over and I will travel again, sooner rather than later. And yes, there will be a trip report!

And I am thrilled I went to Italy in November. Like I said before, the future is unpredictable, so seize the moment.

Your warm congrats have been a joy to read and an unexpected bonus to writing this report. Thank you for sharing in my very unexpected, thrilling, life altering experience.

Myra

Oh, Myra! Poor Ada - not just one, but two little brothers!

You know, sometimes the world is a pretty sad place but this news just made everything roses! (I know, I'm a sappy sentimentalist.)

Please keep in touch. It's so amazing how we feel like family when we share travel experiences.

Best wishes to your entire family!
Linda

GREAT final installment -- I love the chocolate mustache! And of course, you know you have my sincere congratulations on the impending twins -- that challange alone sounds like reason enough to start planning your next trip!

CONGRATULATIONS!

You are truly blessed.

I have identical twin boys (now aged 13 - I can't believe how they've grown from such adorable babies to such big boys in such a short time!) who followed two girls with a 2 year age gap between them. All 4 were born within 3 and a half years!! That WAS hard believe me - I had 3 in nappies for a year!

We first went on holiday when the boys were 7 months old, but we just rented a house a hundred miles or so away from our home in the UK. We did that the following year as well. When the boys were 2 we drove to Belgium to visit friends, and after that we drove to France and rented houses/gites there for holidays until the boys were 5 and sadly the marriage broke down.

(Actually I have not found that to be a total negative, because I have had wonderful holidays with the children, not just here in the UK but we have gone to France, Spain and Italy.)

Travelling overseas will be difficult, but you have already shown you can cope well, and you will manage in the future. I look forward to the trip reports already!

Just make sure you take the time to enjoy the boys, because with an older toddler it is very hard to find the time for all the children, not to mention your husband, and very importantly, FIND TIME FOR YOURSELF, somewhere in the family muddle, just sometimes...

Good luck, and congratulations again.

mebe, congratulations on being chosen as for the Fodorite featured trip report. I loved reading your account and it's wonderful to see your photos!

Anselm

mebe, this is a wonderful trip report and the 'additions' equally delightful.

I think you are born to travel - I'm sure nothing will stop you. I love your attitude to life!

I look forward to printing this report and reading it thoroughly tonight with my hot chocolate! Peacefully, no more children around - just a fluffy white dog. My 'little ones' are all (4) in their thirties. How quickly those years go by!!

Great report!

Congratulations on being the featured trip report! I've enjoyed reading through your adventures - what a wonderful way to spend the morning.

Your family is so cute! Your daughter is absolutely adorable! How precious it must have been to share Italy with her.

http://www.fodors.com/wire/archives/001919.cfm

Thanks to Myra, Aaron (and especially Ada!) for this trip report

Just looked at the pictures. Absolutely adorable - all three of you!

Hi Mebe - First, congratulations on your two bambinos! That would be shocking... especially if you'd nicely planned on two children (I'm pregnant with my second as well right now... and have a toddler a bit younger than Ada). BUT, it's so meant to be, and you'll be sooooooooo in love - that crazy baby love.

Thanks for a great report - so descriptive, funny, real, and entertaining. As I mentioned, we have a toddler as well... 15-months, as a matter of fact, and we're headed to Italy in 10 days (sound familiar?!). I was so grateful for your report and that of skatterfly. We've traveled lots (including Italy), but this is the first int'l trip with Miss Clara. I hope you don't mind a few more questions. Here goes....

1. Car seat: We will primarily be using mass transportation (metro, train) but there may be the occassional taxi ride and hotel shuttle. I have a Safety 1st Tote N Go (basically a padded board w/ harness that attaches to adult seat belt) that wouldn't be terrible to tote around, but what was your experience? Did you ever use a taxi w/ Ada... do you know what the law regarding car seats is?

2. Did you use any laundromats? I recall homes often not having dryers... was wondering if you knew the laundromats to have them. I just can't pack 2-wks worth of clothes and my pregnant self is not up for washing all our clothes in the sink (as we've been known to do on long trips)... not to mention that I'll be wearing maternity "fashions" vs. the quick-drying travel clothes that I'd usually pack.

Thank so much! Hope you're feeling well!

Julia T:

I hope this helps. We never used an airport shuttle.We did use taxis twice: from FCO into Rome and from our Rome apartment to the car rental company under the Borghese Gardens. We were told (by the Rome apartment owner we rented from) that Italy doesn't require you use a car seat at your child's age. So, it's what you feel comfortable with as a parent. But it looks like your Tote n go would work fine in a taxi.

About laundry: We never went to a laundromat, so I don't know about dryers. What about hanging the laundry up to air dry? But I am sure someone around here has laundromat experience and a quick search on Italian laundromats should give you ample info.

Congrats on traveling with a child and pregnant! I'm six months (feels like eight) and trying to muster up the energy to drive two blocks and navigate a grocery store with a two year old. I admire your stamina! I hope you'll write a trip report - I need something inspiring to read!

Myra

Myra, Thank you so much for the wonderful travel report. Have you ever thought of submitting some of your stories or "How to travel with a Toddler" with parenting or travel magazines? I would totally read your articles/columns!

Congrats on the twins...I'm 32 weeks pregnant with twins myself, girls. We were just talking about how fun it's going to be taking them to places all over the world, exploring new places and revisiting the places that DH and I have loved "when they get older." But after reading your report, I realize that older is just 18 months away. Yay.

We really liked the pictures, especially that one of her climbing the stairs on Assisi. Bellisimo!

Hope to read more of your work,
Shannon

Thanks for your quick reply, Mebe! I actually did find a recommendation for a good Italian laundromat chain on another site. For any others interested, check out: www.ondablu.com. It's all in Italian, but intuition and/or www.babelfish.com will get anyone through it to find locations.

Take care, and I will consider writing a report... maybe I'll actually journal on this trip, something I always mean to do but always forget to do. (Actually, I always convince myself, at the time, that I'll remember everything... which I don't, of course... and have ZERO chance of now that I am mom to a toddler and a prego lady. )

Angela

myra -

<I'm six months (feels like eight)>>

Have courage and strength (and you will find it from somewhere deep within yourself). As I mentioned in an earlier post, I've been there. When my twins were born my oldest was only 3 1/2 and my second child 18 months. It is hard work, trying to juggle everything, and I sincerely hope your husband is more supporting than mine was.

However, you have some wonderful times ahead of you, and I envy you going though those.

Now mine are all teens and OMG, this is MUCH harder than when they were all little and all the work was physical, changing nappies, feeds, changing etc! (and really DO consider breastfeeding your two babies - it is SO much easier once you get established, particularly as you have Ada to consider. There is a position that gives you a free hand to do things with your other child while the two babies feed. Also you can get more sleep! I'll give you my email if you want to know more.)

Take care and all best wishes... Julia

This is part of the reason I love Fodors. Myra, congrats on your impending arrivals! Post back when the boys are here and let us know how you're doing.

Julia - I would love to know more! Thank you for offering your support.

Wyatt92 - Yes, this also why I love Fodors. Plus, now when I log on, my two sweeties are looking back at me. Best part of doing a "featured" trip report. And I promise to take a break from breastfeeding (24 times a day!) to post when they arrive (hopefully in 14 weeks...) Yikes! That soon?

myra...

I'm off to Cornwall tomorrow taking my 13yo twins surfing, plus a friend of theirs, and my 15yo daughter and a friend of hers!

I'll be back in 10 days, but if you want to email me in the meantime it's

julia@tanglewood.fsworld.co.uk

The next 14 weeks will surely fly by, and twins often make their appearance a little early! It might be an idea to start your Christmas shopping while you can still do it easily, with just Ada in her buggy...

Talk to you soon.

dear myra
that was a splendid report n photos. congratulations.

I just have to ask 1 thing, isn't it Piazza Navona not Narvona?

Yeah, she misspelled Piazza Navonna. So what? It was a great trip report.

And I cannot imagine taking a big trip like that with a toddler, but more power to her!

Mebe...
Greetings. I don't post a lot on this forums but I read them a lot for advice and is fun and informative. But I could not help but post about your trip report. Is great!. I have to be honest and admit that I'm not sure if I will take a trip with a toddler (I'm currently childless), but I admire you for doing that. I know it takes a lot of work but looks like is very rewarding. I also have ideas now on an Italy trip. I have never been in Europe, but your report is helping me into which one is going to be my first european city. Thanks for an excellent report, your writing style is very fresh,informative, and full of good humor at the same time. Keep up the good work and congratulations on your twin boys.
Patricia

hi mebe,

how r u n ur twin boys? v r waiting to c ur next post on this latest journey of urs. three cheers.

Ethan and Chase, my two future world explorers, arrived naturally October 18th. The pregnancy was long (38 weeks) and exhausting and all of us are more than thrilled that it's over! Aaron and I agreed our next trip should be a second honeymoon, Rome or maybe Paris, but this time without the three kids

Myra

Congrats!

Congratulations on your baby boys mebe!! Thanks for posting back. Imagine you are tired but thrilled. What a lovely family!! Hope you and your DH get some getaway time for yourself when the times is right. Take care!!

Myra -

Along with so many others who truly enjoyed your trip report, I am very happy for you and your lovely family. I'm sure you are feeling overwhelmed right now (I can only imagine!) but what joy to have three little ones. Ada will have her hands full with, not one, but TWO little brothers to get in her stuff! You think you and your hubby need a second honeymoon now!

Seriously, though, enjoy them. They really do grow up all too soon.

Many, many best wishes,
Linda

Myra,

What a lovely postscript to your wonderful report. Congratulations!

Great report. When my two kids were 8 months and two years I traveled in Europe for two months to research a family travel guidebook. I must say I was a bit tired during the trip, but overall we had an excellent trip and the tedium of daily life with a baby and a toddler was made much more exotic by our stops. I encourage everyone to get up and go! The flight over, especially from the west coast, can be a bear, as can the first couple of nights with the time change, but after that, it's pure delight.
Check out familytravelforum.com for more stories and suggestion on how to make family travel work, and where to go.