Highs and Lows of a Family Trip to Italy
Apr 12th, 2011 | 01:37 PM
#124
Joined: Aug 2003
Posts: 485
Likes: 0
The place we have gotten our jackets is M & R Moda In Pelle. It is a store in the San Lorenzo market with LOTS of others. While I don't think they have as many choices as they used to, and I thought the salesmen were a bit too pushy, they DID make me an entirely new coat when the custom made one didn't fit! Here's the website: http://modainpelleonline.3dcartstores.com
Apr 12th, 2011 | 04:16 PM
#126
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2010
Posts: 226
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Dang! I was going to hold off to the end of the story, but I can't make a shout out to Raffaello Leather Works without saying that just four weeks ago, the leather jacket did indeed arrive (about six weeks later than promised, but not too bad considering the way things tend to work in Italy). It's superbly crafted and fits perfectly!! DH looks quite debonair, I must say. Bellissimo!
Raffaello Leather Works is on Via Borgo la Noce. There is a store with jackets and directly across the street, they have a store with posh looking handbags. My daughter bought a Vera Pelle -- I'm not sure if this is a store or just the make. The shop she got it in is either at the top of, or just off of Via Borgo la Noce near the San Lorenzo Basilica.
Next up: There might be a bomb in that sequined fuchsia backpack!
Raffaello Leather Works is on Via Borgo la Noce. There is a store with jackets and directly across the street, they have a store with posh looking handbags. My daughter bought a Vera Pelle -- I'm not sure if this is a store or just the make. The shop she got it in is either at the top of, or just off of Via Borgo la Noce near the San Lorenzo Basilica.
Next up: There might be a bomb in that sequined fuchsia backpack!
Apr 13th, 2011 | 09:01 AM
#129
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2010
Posts: 226
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Crikey, I was hoping not to have to spill the beans on that one! 
But annhig, since you called me on it, DH's jacket cost 400E including shipping. I thought this was a pretty fair price, given the fact that it was tailor-made in an extra robusto size (and since it actually arrived and looks fantastic!). This was quite a leap for DH -- more than he has probably spent on clothes in the past three years combined!! The jackets for the girls were about 100E each. A way off budget splurge to be sure, but ahhh...Italy can be soooo seductive!
But annhig, since you called me on it, DH's jacket cost 400E including shipping. I thought this was a pretty fair price, given the fact that it was tailor-made in an extra robusto size (and since it actually arrived and looks fantastic!). This was quite a leap for DH -- more than he has probably spent on clothes in the past three years combined!! The jackets for the girls were about 100E each. A way off budget splurge to be sure, but ahhh...Italy can be soooo seductive!
Apr 13th, 2011 | 07:10 PM
#135
Joined: Mar 2011
Posts: 4
Likes: 0
I'm brining 4 teenagers -3 sons and a niece - to Italy this summer and would love to hear what your teenagers liked in Rome and Florence. What were the highlights? What lessons did you learn? What might you recommend that you did not do? Thanks so much.
Apr 14th, 2011 | 08:20 AM
#136
Joined: Feb 2006
Posts: 57,091
Likes: 5
hi Simone,
I am not the OP, but our [then] teenagers loved Rome, and we enjoyed Florence, though not as much.
I would definitely stay in an apartment in a central location; our son, then 15, loved going out in the morning and buying breakfast for us all at a local cafe. Despite his almost complete lack of italian, he came back with the right things every morning! going to the same place every day for breakfast, gelati, an evening drink, so that the staff get to know you, is the sort of thing that the kids love.
as for sights, in Rome, the colosseum was a hit of course, but everything there is fun, and if things start to drag, there's always gelati and shopping. and the great food of course. we also liked our day trips to Tivoli, Ostia Antica, and Orvieto.
in Florence, we enjoyed climbing the campanile, and there's the Dome, the accademia [better than the uffizi]; we also liked our trip up to Fiesole [get the bus from piazza san marco] and the day trip to Siena.
have a great trip!
I am not the OP, but our [then] teenagers loved Rome, and we enjoyed Florence, though not as much.
I would definitely stay in an apartment in a central location; our son, then 15, loved going out in the morning and buying breakfast for us all at a local cafe. Despite his almost complete lack of italian, he came back with the right things every morning! going to the same place every day for breakfast, gelati, an evening drink, so that the staff get to know you, is the sort of thing that the kids love.
as for sights, in Rome, the colosseum was a hit of course, but everything there is fun, and if things start to drag, there's always gelati and shopping. and the great food of course. we also liked our day trips to Tivoli, Ostia Antica, and Orvieto.
in Florence, we enjoyed climbing the campanile, and there's the Dome, the accademia [better than the uffizi]; we also liked our trip up to Fiesole [get the bus from piazza san marco] and the day trip to Siena.
have a great trip!
Apr 15th, 2011 | 09:42 PM
#139
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2010
Posts: 226
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Ok, so we faced a dilemma. We had one last day before leaving Florence and two day trips planned. The kids had Pisa high on their list of “must do’s” and I had really wanted to go to Siena (my line in the sand, remember?). So should we go to Pisa or Siena? Well, the choice was obvious….we’d go to Pisa AND Siena. Yes, in one day, because…well, why not!
To be honest, by this point in the trip my “line in the sand” had blurred – I had less of a burning desire to go to Siena specifically, and more of a “gee, it would be nice to go somewhere new.” So I was leaning toward spending the first part of the day in Pisa and then heading to Lucca – a sensible compromise achieving both objectives, with the added benefit of being logistically sane. But DH was adamant (driven largely by guilt at having sucked up so much time in the leather market, I imagine). We have to go to Siena. DD1 provided reinforcement – she had wanted to spend a semester abroad in Siena but had recently changed her mind, deciding instead to spend it in a Spanish-speaking country, given her minor in Spanish and all. She was curious enough, though, to take a look around – if just to see what she would be missing. And we simply couldn’t skip Pisa.
Theoretically, it didn’t seem THAT much of a stretch. We’d managed a successful day trip to Pompeii from Rome after all! I heard that it was better to take a bus into Siena, but I figured we could take the train from Pisa and just catch a bus into town from the station. Piece of cake.
We took the train in the morning (not as early as we should have) and arrived at the Pisa station close to 11. The poor workers in the station’s Tabacchi shop had placed a large sign reading “CROSS THE STREET. TAKE THE RED BUS.” in a vain attempt to reduce the number of times they had to answer the same question from tourists. We bought the bus tickets, crossed the street, and waited for LAM Rosso – the red line bus. After a short and pretty ride, we were at the Field of Miracles. Unlike the Colosseum, where we were greeted by umbrella pushers, here they’re hawking sunglasses. It is finally a mild day, but no sun in sight.
The Field of Miracles is one of those places that looks completely fake. Like some kind of gargantuan movie set. The green, primly trimmed lawn. The tidy wall. The three enormous pieces plopped down in the middle like a giant’s play set. But two of the pieces are pretty banged up. Missing roof tiles, broken stained glass, built up soot and dirt. The bell tower, however, is toothpaste white.
But it costs money to play with these toys. We bought tickets to climb the Leaning Tower (15 euros each) and to tour the Baptistery (5 euros each). The Cathedral was free (in the winter only, for some reason – it usually costs another euro or two). We had about an hour and a half to wait to climb the tower. When I bought the tickets, the kind gentleman gave me a booklet and pointed out a circle on the map, very clearly saying, “This is the meeting point.” Got it.
We went to the Baptistery, which is quite a large structure. I’m not sure why it is so large, in fact, but one gets the sense that someone way back when was a showoff. Inside you can climb half way up and walk around a narrow platform -- the kids did this and I got dizzy just looking up at them. DH and I were saving our energy for the tower. We spent some time in the cathedral. I don’t recall much except that it had a lovely nativity scene with a miniature Piazza dei Miracoli. Very cute.
We decide to get a quick bite to eat at a corner bar close to the tower. DD3 has a hot chocolate – one of those thick, syrupy hot chocolates. This one was gooooood! Not overly sweet, but rich and smooth. She also gets an education in how to use one of those funky toilets with no seats. In a co-ed bathroom at that.
It’s time to head to the meeting spot. It’s several yards past the entrance to the Tower. The girls splay out on the edge of the lawn. There’s no one else congregating here but it’s still about 15 minutes before ticket time. DD3 must have had a massive sugar overdose from the hot chocolate because out of the blue she starts channeling Michael Jackson. She’s humming “Smooth Criminal” doing wicked shoulder moves. This is hysterical so I turn the video camera on. She’s working it for her sisters, but stray tourists also stop to watch. DD1 turns to me and says “If we taught her Thriller, we could MAKE MONEY!” DD3 just says “Oh, yeah” and breaks out a rendition of Thriller that has the girls literally rolling over with laughter. She even does the Vincent Price part, throwing in her own lyrics about the Leaning Tower. It’s priceless.
By now, a crowd has formed at the base of the Tower. How are we the only ones in the wrong spot? We go and join the group and tag onto the end of the line as it snakes into the Tower. Thank God we are at the end of the line, because DH and I realize pretty darn quickly that this is not going to be easy. There’s something about the angle of the staircase that makes climbing the stairs that much harder. Oh, and DH is terrified of heights. I’m still not sure why I even got him a ticket in the first place. But here we are laboriously making our way up, now well behind the girls. We’re having a good time taunting each other with how pathetic we are and it takes us a few moments when we catch up with them to realize something serious is afloat. They are huddled together by the doorway to where the walkway wraps around outside with a formal looking guard who has a walkie talkie pressed to his ear. I figure at first he’s just having them wait until their parents catch up. But no, it’s something about the bags. On page 22 of the booklet the kind gentleman gave me (which I haven’t even glanced at except to analyze the location of the meeting point dot), under Tour of the Tower: Warnings and Precautions, paragraph 7, it says “It is strictly forbidden to carry any bags and/or containers of any kind and shape” -- and we’ve traipsed in with four!
This has caused quite a stir, and the guard is insisting, politely but urgently, that we need to evacuate the tower immediately. He talks frantically into the radio and I begin to realize that the bags were somehow spotted while they were on the outside walkway. DD3’s fuchsia bag!! I naively think that they’re worried this gaudy bright backpack is going to fall on someone’s head, but it gradually dawns on me that this is a bomb threat-type security violation. I’m slow to respond as my brain fights the idea of having to go back down and then climb all the way back up again. But DH quickly assesses the situation and says “I’ll take them.” The guard isn’t quite sure if this is okay, or if he should make us all descend, but DH is already grabbing our bags, “I’ll take them, I’ll take them all” and heading back down the stairs. He is so damn happy to have a reason to get out of there.
At the top, the girls walk around the whole circumference of the tower. I don’t budge more than two feet from the doorway. I’m petrified. The combination of the height, angle and openness is enough get your heart pounding. It makes me really feel my age. But after climbing down, we all feel that mini euphoria you get after doing something that feels risky. The girls take more goofy pictures and get a bigger kick out of watching other people take goofy pictures. We mosey through the cheap souvenir stalls and then head to the bus stop.
Oh and the rest of paragraph 7 says “…these objects must be left at the cloakroom near the meeting point.” That would have been a nice thing for the kind gentleman to add.
To be honest, by this point in the trip my “line in the sand” had blurred – I had less of a burning desire to go to Siena specifically, and more of a “gee, it would be nice to go somewhere new.” So I was leaning toward spending the first part of the day in Pisa and then heading to Lucca – a sensible compromise achieving both objectives, with the added benefit of being logistically sane. But DH was adamant (driven largely by guilt at having sucked up so much time in the leather market, I imagine). We have to go to Siena. DD1 provided reinforcement – she had wanted to spend a semester abroad in Siena but had recently changed her mind, deciding instead to spend it in a Spanish-speaking country, given her minor in Spanish and all. She was curious enough, though, to take a look around – if just to see what she would be missing. And we simply couldn’t skip Pisa.
Theoretically, it didn’t seem THAT much of a stretch. We’d managed a successful day trip to Pompeii from Rome after all! I heard that it was better to take a bus into Siena, but I figured we could take the train from Pisa and just catch a bus into town from the station. Piece of cake.
We took the train in the morning (not as early as we should have) and arrived at the Pisa station close to 11. The poor workers in the station’s Tabacchi shop had placed a large sign reading “CROSS THE STREET. TAKE THE RED BUS.” in a vain attempt to reduce the number of times they had to answer the same question from tourists. We bought the bus tickets, crossed the street, and waited for LAM Rosso – the red line bus. After a short and pretty ride, we were at the Field of Miracles. Unlike the Colosseum, where we were greeted by umbrella pushers, here they’re hawking sunglasses. It is finally a mild day, but no sun in sight.
The Field of Miracles is one of those places that looks completely fake. Like some kind of gargantuan movie set. The green, primly trimmed lawn. The tidy wall. The three enormous pieces plopped down in the middle like a giant’s play set. But two of the pieces are pretty banged up. Missing roof tiles, broken stained glass, built up soot and dirt. The bell tower, however, is toothpaste white.
But it costs money to play with these toys. We bought tickets to climb the Leaning Tower (15 euros each) and to tour the Baptistery (5 euros each). The Cathedral was free (in the winter only, for some reason – it usually costs another euro or two). We had about an hour and a half to wait to climb the tower. When I bought the tickets, the kind gentleman gave me a booklet and pointed out a circle on the map, very clearly saying, “This is the meeting point.” Got it.
We went to the Baptistery, which is quite a large structure. I’m not sure why it is so large, in fact, but one gets the sense that someone way back when was a showoff. Inside you can climb half way up and walk around a narrow platform -- the kids did this and I got dizzy just looking up at them. DH and I were saving our energy for the tower. We spent some time in the cathedral. I don’t recall much except that it had a lovely nativity scene with a miniature Piazza dei Miracoli. Very cute.
We decide to get a quick bite to eat at a corner bar close to the tower. DD3 has a hot chocolate – one of those thick, syrupy hot chocolates. This one was gooooood! Not overly sweet, but rich and smooth. She also gets an education in how to use one of those funky toilets with no seats. In a co-ed bathroom at that.
It’s time to head to the meeting spot. It’s several yards past the entrance to the Tower. The girls splay out on the edge of the lawn. There’s no one else congregating here but it’s still about 15 minutes before ticket time. DD3 must have had a massive sugar overdose from the hot chocolate because out of the blue she starts channeling Michael Jackson. She’s humming “Smooth Criminal” doing wicked shoulder moves. This is hysterical so I turn the video camera on. She’s working it for her sisters, but stray tourists also stop to watch. DD1 turns to me and says “If we taught her Thriller, we could MAKE MONEY!” DD3 just says “Oh, yeah” and breaks out a rendition of Thriller that has the girls literally rolling over with laughter. She even does the Vincent Price part, throwing in her own lyrics about the Leaning Tower. It’s priceless.
By now, a crowd has formed at the base of the Tower. How are we the only ones in the wrong spot? We go and join the group and tag onto the end of the line as it snakes into the Tower. Thank God we are at the end of the line, because DH and I realize pretty darn quickly that this is not going to be easy. There’s something about the angle of the staircase that makes climbing the stairs that much harder. Oh, and DH is terrified of heights. I’m still not sure why I even got him a ticket in the first place. But here we are laboriously making our way up, now well behind the girls. We’re having a good time taunting each other with how pathetic we are and it takes us a few moments when we catch up with them to realize something serious is afloat. They are huddled together by the doorway to where the walkway wraps around outside with a formal looking guard who has a walkie talkie pressed to his ear. I figure at first he’s just having them wait until their parents catch up. But no, it’s something about the bags. On page 22 of the booklet the kind gentleman gave me (which I haven’t even glanced at except to analyze the location of the meeting point dot), under Tour of the Tower: Warnings and Precautions, paragraph 7, it says “It is strictly forbidden to carry any bags and/or containers of any kind and shape” -- and we’ve traipsed in with four!
This has caused quite a stir, and the guard is insisting, politely but urgently, that we need to evacuate the tower immediately. He talks frantically into the radio and I begin to realize that the bags were somehow spotted while they were on the outside walkway. DD3’s fuchsia bag!! I naively think that they’re worried this gaudy bright backpack is going to fall on someone’s head, but it gradually dawns on me that this is a bomb threat-type security violation. I’m slow to respond as my brain fights the idea of having to go back down and then climb all the way back up again. But DH quickly assesses the situation and says “I’ll take them.” The guard isn’t quite sure if this is okay, or if he should make us all descend, but DH is already grabbing our bags, “I’ll take them, I’ll take them all” and heading back down the stairs. He is so damn happy to have a reason to get out of there.
At the top, the girls walk around the whole circumference of the tower. I don’t budge more than two feet from the doorway. I’m petrified. The combination of the height, angle and openness is enough get your heart pounding. It makes me really feel my age. But after climbing down, we all feel that mini euphoria you get after doing something that feels risky. The girls take more goofy pictures and get a bigger kick out of watching other people take goofy pictures. We mosey through the cheap souvenir stalls and then head to the bus stop.
Oh and the rest of paragraph 7 says “…these objects must be left at the cloakroom near the meeting point.” That would have been a nice thing for the kind gentleman to add.
