Italia!

We have been without Internet the last few days so I've saved up a few posts and will try to get them up while we are indeed still connected.  

Saturday, August 2

It took us a couple of days but we have finally arrived at our first Italian destination.

We left our little Budapest apartment around 11 to hop a flight to Rome via Munich.  I was a litte regretful leaving behind our cozy flat that for me, oozed history.  I was less fussed about leaving behind the nightclub that we could hear blaring techno music the last couple nights there.  Our bedroom window faced out onto a small internal enclosed square who's sole purpose was probably ventilation and light.  Despite being completely closed to the street and all but the windows of the flat below, the techno-boom from somewhere around the blog reverberated against the stone and concrete walls and echoed into our room.  It was like listening the the vestiges of a party in the dying hours of the night - you couldn't really make anything out, but the mind nonetheless keeps trying.  

We arrived in Rome around 6 but by the time we were pulling away from the airport in our rental car it was after 8.  That was way too long in the Rome airport.  Hot, sticky, tired, we were eager to get away from that place.

Thinking ahead, we had picked a hotel near the airport knowing that there was no likelihood of driving to our final destination 6 hours away that night.  Now, as we all know, airport hotels can be gambles, but the Hotel Chopin killed me!  It was like walking into the land where discarded movie sets went to die.  In this instance, I can only let the pictures speak for themselves.  

Interestingly, though the grown-ups had raised eyebrows and were exchanging surreptitious glances, the kids were in an Italian version of Storybook Gardens.  They loved it.  The motorcycles and airplane parts decor of the breakfast room, Henry the Eighth's chair in the dining room and the dish of fried octopus were all they needed to declare this place "the best hotel ever" with joyful glee.  The room was the capper though, it felt like we were staying in an old Italian couple's basement, complete with mirrors on the bed and seizure inducing carpeting.  

Dinner was at the hotel as well since it seemed to be pretty much surrounded by industrial buildings.  The server was an older gentleman with limited English, and the cook was a middle aged Italian lady.  We sat on the parking lot patio with mismatched tables and chairs and ate surprisingly tasty pasta while watching other travellers stumble out of cabs or a shuttle bus.  It was actually a rather entertaining dinner, and we introduced the kids to prosciutto and melon which they googled up and further solidified their opinion of the place.  All in all not an uncomfortable place to stay, and made me feel like a hotel can indeed be an adventure.   

We grabbed a quick breakfast surrounded by motorcycles (yes, a variety of makes and styles lined the breakfast room/bar walls) along with a infinite array of novelties including an impressive collection of altimeters, a full sized propellor, WW II memorabilia and a ceiling draped with a parachute and national flags (you can't make this stuff up you know).

Hitting the road reasonably early, we settled in for a very long drive along Italy's A1, pretty much the Italian equivalent to the transCanada.  The Italian's however put a great deal of effort into ensuring that anyone driving the A1 sees very little, if anything, of the surrounding area.  Perhaps it is a safety thing, perhaps just an oversight, but despite the occasional teasing site before a wall goes up, there is absolutely nothing scenic or interesting about the A1. The most interesting part of the drive was watching this small cars loaded down with Italian families and all their belongings heading off on what I presumed was their annual summer holidays.  The cars were packed to the brim, creating theses travelling cocoons from which emerged tired looking family members at rest stops along the way.

After a few hours as part of the cocoon caravan, we veered off onto the A22 towards the Dolomites.  Eventually, the landscape morphed from rollie, to hilly to our first glimpse of mountains.  Our route eventually led us up switch backs and narrow mountain roads finally ending at the tiny little hamlet of San Michele part way between Castelrotto and Ortisie.  

The entire area is a succession of ski resorts many of which you can access from the peaks, and that span Austria and Italy.  You could ride up in Italy and ski down into Austria.  As a result, German is the predominant language here.

As if to drive home that point, our dinner in Orstisie tonight was at an Octoberfest like festival set up in the main square.  There was according music, there was traditional dancing, there was beer and there was wienerschnitzel and bratwurst.  It was quite the operation actually, waiters in lederhosen circulating with hand held electronic devices took your order and your money, and within a few minutes out came a server with your food and drink.  It was hard to believe we were technically still in Italy.  But then, the border had shifted so many times over the centuries, the physical border is likely irrelevant to these communities.  

Back up to our little apartment in the hills.  We have the ground floor of a small little apartment unit named Fizider Hof, which I think means house.  We're assuming there are other guests as there are a few cars parked about, but we haven't seen anyone other than the owners of the property.  The place overlooks an alpin valley within which rests Castelrotto and the views are pretty spectacular, with wild flowers and birdsong acting as a nice salve after two days of travel.  We've also left behind the hot and sticky air for cool and dry mountain breezes.  Of course, our first reminder of being out of the city was a rather dramatic encounter with a wasp.  Alas, Kiyomi lost that one.  

The apartment is simple, and fine for our purposes but it is unclear whether the owners actually live in this building.  It is a working farm complete with rabbits and cows, but as far as we can tell, the farm is operated by an older couple and their son, none of whom speak much English, and my Italian is mail lay limited to menus.  The barn seems to be a vestige of the nineteenth century, built in a hill with the cows penned into the lower section and the tractor above.  The kids have fallen in love with ten rabbits having named each one, rushing out to feed them dandelion leaves.

Tomorrow, we head up, and hopefully, we hike.

The parting shot tonight is the sunset view from our apartment window.  Good night, from San Michele.

Dolomites

August 4

Today, we hiked.  And not that ridiculous Canadian hiking where you schlep thousands of feet up a mountain, provisions on your back for the day.  Nope, this was European hiking.  Take a cable car up the steep bit, meander around a flattish alpine plateau, stop for lunch at the full service alpine hut, and then walk down to the main lodge area.

The area in question was Alpe Di Suisi, a spectacular mountain plateau between peaks crisscrossed by 4 or 5 cable cars.  Not only is it a beautiful hike, it makes for an impressive ski area.  In fact, skiing here has just been added to my bucket list.  The little "town" of Compatch serves at the jumping off point for mountain exploration.  You can drive or take a cable car up to Compatch, but if you drive you need to be there before 9am as they close the road to traffic once the park opens.  Compatch really made me think of a smaller European, less pretentious version of of Tremblant. There are a few hotels, some gear shops, a deli and a few restaurants.  It's not nearly as expansive as Tremblant, and I really got the sense that it preferred to allow attention be focused on the surrounding mountains. 

The hike was a loop that took us to a high point from which we could look down upon the patchwork of greens and emerald that made up the valley floor, ribboned with the little town of Castelrotto.  With the prevalence of German spoken around us and the depth and roll of the alpine valleys, it felt more like Switzerland than Italy.   Especially give the wild mountain cows!  Ok, so they weren't wild and were well penned in by electric fences.  They were, however, wearing large clanking bells and seemed to be capable of reaching ridiculous heights along the higher meadows in search of tastier grass.  

There is actually a whole way of life in these valleys with small farms dotting the hills, mostly structures that seem limited to summer habitation only.  They're nestled along the banks of alpine valley hills or snuggled within a small valley.  It seems like it would be one of those peaceful ideal existences, if rather strenuous, farming those hillsides.  Of course, the reality is likely quite different from the picture postcard images they present, but in the sunny meadow, it looks like an uncomplicated, restful life.  I imagine that is the appeal for all of us trekking past.

When the kids tired, I drew up every Shakespeare story I could remember to entertain them.  Hamlet actually works really well, especially when you get to the part where everybody dies.  Alas, we don't have internet access here in San Michele, otherwise I'd spend some time refreshing my memory of A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Taming of the Shrew.

Lunch was at an alpine hunt along the route, where we chowed down on pasta, Bratwurst and speck and eggs over potatoes.  Hardy mountain fare, which would have been much appreciated had we actually trudged up to get there, but having taken the cable car up the first ascent, it seemed a little excessive.  Of course, we chowed down anyway, sitting on the patio in the shade enjoying people watching while the kids played foozball on a table in the little playground (they used a rock for a ball).

The rest of the hike brought us down from the cool mountain air and feeling the full power of the strong mountain sun.  I was reminded how sunshine in the mountains can be caressingly warm and harshly scalding at the same time depending on which side of the ridge you are standing.  The kids started to wane a little, but seemed spurred on by the constant sound of grasshoppers and little rivulets along the path (ok, and the promise of ice cream).

Because words can never really do justice to alpine meadows, once again, I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

After getting some groceries for the morning and cleaning up at our little mountain refuge (which while in a beautiful spot, seems to be devoid of heating so not a place to linger after the sun is down unless you're jumping under the duvet), we headed into Castelrotto for dinner at a little pizzeria in town.  Our first pizza in Italy since arriving here, and we were surrounded by Germans-speakers.  I thought it was funny.

Back on our apartment, the distant strains of a thunder storm rolled across the mountains.  The reverberation of the sound across the valleys and rock walls is an intense and yet relaxing sound (as long as you're safe and dry).  It sounds like a giant boulder rolling down the valleys and precipices.

The parting shot for tonight has become almost a daily ritual.  Good night from San Michele.

Final impressions

Today being the last full day in Budapest, we decided rather than set an itinerary, we'd just take in the city.  We had a late breakfast (we've been keeping rather different hours, getting and staying up late), and ventured out with a vague destination, but no real set plan.

It really was a day to gather our final impressions of this less well known and understood European capital (and for Ren to reach a tally of over 100 trams cited).  We headed to a shopping street, but basically just wandered around taking in the warp and weft of this city.  Shockingly, the kids have kept pace with our wanderings, though I'm sure the promise of daily ice cream has something to do with it. That, and today, Ren scored a coveted treasure - a Lionel Messi Barcelona jersey (I know, not very Hungarian, but really where are we going to find a cheap knock-off Barcelina jersey back home).

We walked the tourist track, and ventured off route to narrow quiet streets, discoved comforting squares and cooling parks.  Without a destination, we were really more willing to just let the city get under our skin and take us in, rather than hunt for its treasures or capture its images.  Of course, the fact that it was 37 with the humidex may have had something to do with our meandering.  

Dinner was at an empty restaurant not far from our apartment.  After all the work that the proprietor put in to draw us in, we decide we had to relent.  He was quite a character, telling us everything was "very fine" and that we would not leave hungry (I'm not sure that's possible after any Hungarian meal).  We sat at a sidewalk table while a huge plate of meat and deep fried cheese served on a bed of potatoes and rice was placed in front of us, and watched as he hovered over us amusingly (we were his only table).  The service was attentive and the food very Hungarian and tasty.  It kinda felt like we had dropped into someone's kitchen for dinner.  He also kept petting Ren's head, which is actually a common occurrence here (we've actually watched as strangers have done so while walking past and a couple of shop keepers).  Apparently, he has an irresistible head.  We left feeling very full and took one final stroll to take in Budapest at night with the art nouveau buildings glowing under soft lights.

So, final impressions....

Budapest has the charm and grace of Paris, but without the fuss.  The architecture impresses, the narrow lined charming streets sooth, the main thoroughfares with quaint shops and restaurants entice, the river inspires and the food delights.  While it may lack some of the pizazz of some of the larger capitals, it's more comfortable in its own skin, and makes it exceedingly accessible, walkable and welcoming, and really without the overblown prices.  This is a city with a complicated, and at times difficult history, and yet it charms easily.   It is comfortable with its past, the good and the ugly, and has come to terms with its complex history to make it part of its character and strength.  

The final shot tonight is a final goodnight to Budapest. 

kapostztasteszta

All my life, I've known that my grandmother was Hungarian.  However, like many 3rd generation children, by the time she had her own children, she had moved away from many of the Hungarian traditions.  As a result, by the time I was born, there really was no Hungarian anything to speak of in my lexicon of life.  Since arriving here, I have searched faces to see if there is some Hungarian feature shared by my grandmother, some mannerism or way of speaking that harkened to her roots.  And really, nothing has come up.  Like many European countries, shifting allegiances and borders have, over the centuries, meant that a country's people share cultural commonalities more so than facial features. 

The only vestige of Hungarianism in youth was a cabbage and noodle dish that everybody loved to say, but no one knew how to spell, or really truly, how to pronounce.  We called it everything from kappikappiejinzsky to koppakoppastasta, but mostly gave up and called it cabbage and noodles (which is basically the sum total of the ingredients, plus some butter, salt and pepper).   Well, tonight that changed and for the first time since arriving here, I actually had the oddest feelings of affiliation with this country (despite the fact that the waitress was non-plused when I informed her my mom makes this dish). 

Perhaps only the Millers will understand the significance of this, and even then, it may be only me, but it is interesting to have a feeling of commonality over food.  And yet, there it is.  So much of a nation's force and soul is fried, baked, broiled and kneaded into its food.  The texture and fabric of a nation is weaved through its common experiences of taste, and so, to have recognized a dish of my childhood that I now prepare for my children was a strangely satisfying and welcoming experience.  It may just be that we have now been here a few days, I am growing familiar with the surroundings and the jet lag is subsiding, but when I walked out of that restaurant this evening, I felt an affinity for this country that I had not felt before walking in.

Other that my culinary epiphany, we spent the day enjoying some of the cities various parks.  Our first stop was City Park, which lies just slightly north east of the city center.  It's home to the zoo and a few museums, some of whose buildings did indeed remind me that this city has medieval roots.  We didn't check out the insides of these spectacular buildings, but rather came across them quite by accident. 

Our intended destination was the Transportation Museum which promised hands on exhibits and trains.  While there were definitely trains, I would say the kids had way more fun plotting revenge on pigeons in the park than at the museum itself.  

We picnic'd in the park though, as the rain that keeps being forecast had failed to show up.  We had loads of leftovers from yesterday's dinner, so it was perfect for a little noch in the park.

After which, Ren entertained others in the vicinity by doing the play by play for his own little soccer game.  He was Italy, France, Argentina and Hungary all in one compact package.  Notice the Spider-Man ball that's doing double duty as a football.

After lunch, we headed to Margarit Island, a large park space in the middle of the Danube between Pest and Buda.  It had a beautiful canopy of massive trees with huge leaves, and was a welcome retreat from the hot sun.  We spent most of our time there in the Platinus Strand, a thermal fed water park.  If the Gellert Baths is a Cathedral, Platinus is Disney Land.  This is said to be the place where Budapesti come to play, so that's what we did.  We splashed in the pools, rode the water slides and bodysurfed in the wave pool.  By the way, don't ever be fooled if your guidebook tells you there is little food to be found on Margarit Island as ours did.  There are vendors everywhere.  You may not get a full meal, but there is no way you'll go hungry.

We finally left Margarit behind around 7, but that wasn't the end of festivities in the park by any means. People were still streaming in and it was really only starting to get busy.   It is definitely the place to be on a warm summer evening.

By the time we finished dinner, it was starting to get later and I realized that this was the first time I'd be out after dark since arriving.  This city teems after dark.  There is an undeniable pulse and energy, and it seems most people are out just to be out.  I'm sure there are packed clubs and bars, but it felt to me like the vibe was all out on the streets with tourists and locals alike out to enjoy the night.

With Ren's tram tally now up to well over 70 (he's been keeping a running count for the last few days), it was probably about time that he got a chance to ride on one.  After dinner, we got our chance, so hoped on board for the ride back to our apartment.  Funny thing about Ren, he gets really excited about everything, all the time, but on some occasions when his expectations and reality align, falls into a rapt reverence, which he did as soon as he sat on the tram (after he counted it of course).  So, the parting shot for tonight is Ren in a happy place.  Good night from Budapest.  

Gastro!

No, it wasn't some fabulous restaurant in the area.  It was my day yesterday.  I was waylaid by a little gastro bug that kept me trapped in the apartment for most of the day.  Thankfully, it was only a 24 hour thing and it seems to have resolved itself.  So while Kohji and the kids took in the zoo, I tested the true comfort level of the bed in our apartment (not bad actually), waking finally around 2:30 in the afternoon to move to the couch.  I finally made it out to join the gang for a tentative dinner at a rather odd ramen restaurant.  It was Chinese food and ramen under a ceiling depicting an austere and very European hunting scene.  More interesting contrasts.

After dinner we strolled towards the Parliament Buildings where Ren was apoplectic about seeing more than 20 trams go by.  Every time he saw one, he ran towards it at full tilt yelling "tram, tram, tram!!!" And waving at the driver.  Needless to say, there were more than a few chuckles from passers by.

We continued our walk down by the Danube watching the sun falling behind the Buda hills.  We came across an exhibit that I had read about of iron cast shoes facing out to the Danube along the edge of the river.  The installation is a memorial to Hungarian Jews shot and thrown into the Danube by the fascist Arrow Cross Party in 1944.  The installation is simple, but poignant, and led to an interesting conversation with the kids about the atrocities of WWII. It's a hard topic to avoid when travelling in most places in Europe.  The legacy of the war is still very palpable in most of Europe, even though most of the locals we pass on the street were born well after the war.  Perhaps it's the historian in me, but I do see a wonderful hope in a generation that moves forward while honouring its past, not matter how difficult that last may be.  

This morning, breakfast was from bakery number 3.  There are acually 4 bakeries within a 30 second walk of our front door.  This location was indeed all we could possibly want - very central, quiet, quaint, but really, it had us at hook, line and sinker at bakeries (plural!). 

After breakfast, we wandered along Vasi Utca - a popular shopping pedestrian street (Utca from what we can tell means street or avenue).  It was on this street that Ren finally was able to get a coveted souvenir - a full soccer uniform for one of the local teams, Ferencvaros.  The team is actually playing a friendly against Chelsea here in August so there are signs up all over the city for the match.  Football is ubiquitous here as it is in most European cities.  Kids playing in the local playground already have impressive ball handling skills, ones that would certainly put me to shame.  This has fed Ren's recent soccer obsession, and he is now daily reminding us that we promised to get him shin pads in Italy.  He walks the streets of Budapest wearing either his France or Italy jersey and drawing curious stares as this non-British, but English speaking Chinese kid prattles on about Lionel Messi.

For lunch we hit the Central Market Hall at the end of Vasi Utca, and gazed at the produce and meat spilling out of the counters.  We squeezed into a market stall restaurant for lunch and watched the tourists all around.  I watched as an older couple of gentlemen sat on a bench near us and pulled out apples.  They offered to split the apples with a young British couple sitting beside them, who declined politely owing to what the young Brit referred to as a "monster hangover".  Ahhh youth...

After lunch, we bathed!  Budapest is world famous for its Roman style thermal baths and the city has several varieties to choose from.  For our first foray, we went to the Gellert Baths, in part because of the promise of a wave pool, but also because it has been likened to bathing in a Cathedral.  

It certainly had an inspiring and impressive feel about it, which lasted right up until I caught the first sight of a pair of speedos - a rather common sight in European swimming areas.   Cathedral vibe ... gone.  It was nonetheless a pretty cool place to spend the afternoon.  Soaking in healing waters - apparently good for joints and circulation - listening to the dozens of language being spoken all around and guessing at the stories of other travellers. 

After a thorough dunking at the baths, we headed back to the market to pick up some dinner fare.  Other than watching as a shop keeper not so surreptitiously added a weight to the scale with my tomatoes (she removed it after I asked her what that was for) and coming away with way too much Hungarian salami (much better here than at home, but really oily), the market was a more pleasant affair at dinner time with fewer tourists and more locals picking up dinner fixins'. 

A few points of note about Budapest: They are, by far, the most courteous drivers I've seen in any city.  Drivers here are very much conscious, and conscientious, of pedestrians and will patiently wait while a stream of meandering tourists cross the road.  Bicycles are common, but do not swam the city like in many other European centres of similar size.  Perhaps the Buda hills are the deterrent, but there are definitely fewer cyclists.  Lastly, much of the nightlife is outdoors (not that I've been out much after dark), but it seems Budapesti love their summer nights.

 

The final shot tonight shows a sight we've walked by multiple time in our few days here, so I thought it worth including.  Good night from Budapest.  

The pigeons are afraid

Suffice to say, there is probably not a single pigeon in downtown Budapest that has escaped being dive bombed by my kids. 

We're staying in the Pest side of the city, so decided that today we should try exploring Buda a little.  The city is one of interesting contrasts - Pest is the flat to Buda's hills which roll just across the Danube. 

 To ascend to the Buda heights, we decided to take the funicular.  Ok, so heights is probably an overstatement as the ride up was probably less than 2 minutes.  But it was an interesting way to travel and gave us the opportunity to chat with an Aussie couple who were that afternoon leaving for a 2 week cruise down the Danube.

As soon as we arrived at the top, it started to pour, but undeterred we roamed around Buda castle.  The castle sits on top of the hill looking down upon the river, and while the location was said to house medieval princes, the castle itself has been rebuilt many times in its history.  Most recently, it suffered significant damage during WWII when Hungary's latent attempt to court the Allies late in the war, angering Mein Fuhrer, lead to a barrage of Soviet bombs that destroyed or damages more than half the city.

This brings me back to the study in contrast of this city.  Despite having a medieval heritage, the city has endured such devastation over the centuries, and particularly in the last thanks to WWII and the 1956 Uprising, that most of it is rebuilt.  There are pockets older buildings, but even those that appear older, seem actually to have a cement facade echoing back to a turn of the century construction.

Seeking to explore some of the city's medieval history, we ducked into the Labyrinth, a 1200 meter maze of caves that run beneath the Buda hills.  It became clear early on that we should have thought that one through a little better.  The kids were terrified and clued to our legs the entire time in there.  Not helped by the fact that it turns out Dracula was one impressed there, so they have a section haunted by dry ice smoke and eerie music playing. The kids couldn't get out of there fast enough, and I'm expecting a wake up or two tonight.

We finally took a break for lunch at a little pancake place which reminded me more of a hobbit hole than a restaurant.  

After which, we attempted to exorcise the spooky caves by checking out a science center only to learn that it was no longer at that location.  Thankfully, Millenium Park where it had formally being housed had a pretty cool playground with a zip line and other play structures that would never meet North American standards, and of course, the obligatory ice cream vendors. 

We wandered back towards Pest, with Ren chasing after every cable car he could find.  The kids actually did amazing well, covering a huge amount of ground on foot, and not really complaining at all.  We gazed at the Parliament building, itself rebuilt 6 times over the years, and managed to find a grocery for a quiet dinner in.

Rain in the forecast for the next 4 days.  We be packing umbrellas and hoping for the best.

Parting shot for tonight shows Ren's latest obsession.  Good night from Budapest.

First day in Budapest

Wow, I wasn't kidding when I said I was falling asleep at the keyboard yesterday!  A record number of typos - which is was happens when you type with your eyes closed.

After arriving at the apartment yesterday around noon, we headed off for lunch across the street and sat nice and cozy in a restaurant while a thunder storm rocked through the city.  The sound of thunder reverberating against the narrow streets lined with stone and cement buildings was dramatic.  The apartment is on a residential lined street, tucked behind massive solid wood doors which lead into an interior courtyard. 

It honestly only looks like Ren is leaning out into space.  Our apartment is on the top floor, but luckily there is an elevator large enough to just fit us.  

We wandered the streets for awhile trying to stay awake and get a feel for the neighbourhood.  We are literally just  around the corner from St. Stepehn's Basilica, an impressive dome which is most well known for it's shrine housing the right hand of the namesake saint himself.  It struck me as a little odd, but there in a side chapel rests the hand.

We wandered around the neighbourhood, meeting some locals

And watching the kids take in Budapest

Don't worry, the B and E above was completely legal.  Once in the park, the kids met a lively little red headed girl from just outside Paris.  It took them awhile to figure out that they actually had a language in common, but we knew they had figured it out when the little girl ran across the playground shouting to her parents "Mama, Papa, Elle parle francais!"

Dinner was at a restaurant that promised traditional Hungarian fair

Notice the beef goulash and schitzel.  Rather tasty, but rather fun for me was the chicken noodle soup that tasted exactly like Nanny's, right down to the thin noodles. Not sure if it was a coincidence, but makes me wonder that perhaps I did experience a little Hungarian cooking in my youth.

Today, off to city park, and here's hoping we don't get rained on.  

Good day from Budapest.

We have arrived, but are experiencing technical difficulties

Frankfurt was kinder to us than anticipated, and so we managed to get through without any above normal delays. Sure there were several security lines, but we made the flight to Budapest in plenty of time, and I even had time to chat with a former colleague of mine who happened to be in the same security line up in Frankfurt.

We grabbed our cab at the Budapest airport and had a little extra tour when our driver, who did not know any English (at least that he'd admit to) and so for some unknown reason, we went around the block one more before he dropped us off.  He was pretty made about it too!

The rest of the afternoon was called try to keep mommy awake.  Been struggling under jet lag a great deal, and even feels asleep on a bench I the middle of Budapest.  Tools the kids to parks, wondered and wandered around.  Will provide more impressions tomorrow,  but suffice it to say, old world charm suffused with shadings of modernity.

The highlight for me today was watching my Chinese Canadian kids tear around a park, one in sn Italian jersey, playing hide and seek with a French girl in a downtown Budapest park.

Much go know, falling asleep at the keyboard. Will send oics tomorrow.  

And we're off...

After a rather crazy day getting ready (ok, well crazy because the kids were so excited we had to kick them outside so they didn't drive us insane), we have closed the last zipper, snapped the last snap and made the last of what seemed like an endless round of decisions on "should we take x with us".

We are officially off.  Next stop, Frankfurt.  As some of you may know, Frankfurt airport has not always been kind to us.  It's the airport that lost Kohji's luggage for 3 days and on one particular trip where I got up close and personal with a German security guard.

We haven't yet told Ren that Frankfurt is in Germany. He's still mad at them for beating Argentina in the World Cup final and kinda growls every time he sees a German jersey.  It may not endear the Frankfurt airport staff to us very much

And so it begins again...

Ah, sabbatical!  It has so many meanings, connotations, implications.   Apparently one thing it means for me is a reinvigoration of the blog.  

I've been asked quite a few times what do I mean by sabbatical?  I know of course there are academic meanings associated with the term.  An extended period away from teaching to undertake research and learning.

And really, that isn't such a bad description.  For us, sabbatical is an extended period away from the work-a-day world for the express purpose to learn from and engage with people and places outside of our every day reality.  The genesis of our family sabbatical plan was really to offer the kids (or kid as there was only one at the time) the opportunity to learn that there are 'more things in heaven and earth' than what they know and see everyday.  We wanted them to learn that there are people who eat different things, cities that have different systems, children who have different play structures.  At its heart, we wanted them to learn that the world is an incredible place, where not everyone eats, thinks and dreams in the same way we do.  And most importantly, we wanted them to be comfortable with those differences.  More than comfortable, we want them to embrace them.  In point of fact, we want them to be better at that embracing those differences than we are.

But something really odd happened on our first sabbatical.  We realized that the kids didn't need these lessons.  They in fact internalize this just by their inherent kid nature.  When we travelled to New Zealand in 2011, we met families from all over the globe, and while Kohji and I smiled politely and nodded reservedly to strangers, most of whom were sharing similar travel experience, the kids took every kid they met at face value and saw immediately past the differences to the things they had in common.  Within seconds, they were screaming with laughter with a kid that they had just met, and within minutes they were buddies tearing around playing an agreed upon game, despite not being able to speak the same language.

In other words, we weren't teaching the kids a darn thing; they were teaching us everything we needed to know about accepting our differences and engaging with the unfamiliar world around us.  They were showing us how to embrace differences and be comfortable with different food, language, culture, perspective.

Sabbatical, then, is indeed an appropriate term as we prepare for our next adventure.  We will be taking a step away from our daily routine to explore the world around us, to acquaint ourselves with the unfamiliar and to learn a thing or two from the people we meet, and our children.

We start our next adventure in Budapest chasing down curiosity about my family heritage and the mystery of Eastern Europe.   Hungary- despite having familial roots in the place and having once watched in awe at a family reunion when my grandmother effortless slipped into Hungarian (admittedly, I was 12 and it was the first time I'd ever heard her speak the language), the country is a complete enigma to me.  After hopefully learning a thing or two there, we'll slip over to Italy to walk in the more familiar rises of the Dolomites and chase silver lighted dreams in Tuscany and Umbria.

And hopefully, just maybe, we'll come out the other side of this adventure being just a little more like our kids, and slightly more familiar with all the amazing differences the world has to offer.   If you are indeed still tuning into this blog, feel free to tag along.