D-Day

This post is not entirely about D-Day or the fact that we visited Normandy (we visited Brittany as well) but honestly I don't think that anyone can argue that the little Brittany town of Saint-Malo, though quaint, had more historic relevance than Omaha Beach. We will, however, start this post with it.

We arrived to Saint-Malo in the late afternoon and spent a few hours walking around and becoming acquainted with the town and the beach. We then went out to dinner and afterwards walked up on the city wall to get a glorious view of the sun setting over the ocean. (It is also notable to mention that we had oysters, or huîtres, with dinner—and being by the sea, there were more to come.)

Saint-Malo

The next morning we headed out on a driving tour of Brittany, stopping first at a little town called Dinan which we spent an hour or so exploring and walking along the city wall. 

We then went to the beach and had a beautiful picnic, complete with Nick's daily ball-toss with one of the family. It was really windy, though, so that didn't go as well as usual. Interestingly enogh, the Brittany coast reminded me a lot of the California coast back home. Not the Southern California coast that people always go to in the movies, with the palm trees and the gorgeous weather and sandy beaches, but the Northern California coast, my coast, with the rocky cliffs and the wind and the short brush which grows on all the hills and the cyprus trees. A little bit of the Marin Headlands way over in France. 

Tell me, fellow Californians, does that not look like home?

Anyway, after that we headed out to an old medieval fort wich was built on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was called Fort La Latte and had been mostly rebuilt from a few piles of leftover rocks (it was from the 12th century). It was beautiful, and again it really reminded me of home. We greatly enjoyed touring it, and we even got to climb to the top of the tower keep and walk around the roof. The wind was incredible up there; we could really see why the fort had been so worn down over the years.

We hung out at the top there; the wind was really strong!

That pretty much ended our day, and then we headed back to Saint-Malo for dinner. It was actually really cool because we went to a restaurant that was right on the water, and we happened to be visiting Brittany during the high tide of the century. We had beautiful seats, right next to the window, and we started dinner with a beach on the other side of the glass and ended it with the ocean there; not a trace of sand was visible. Some people on the other side of the restaurant were situated so that the waves kept splashing up against the window next to them! We also got to enjoy another gorgeous sunset and some delicious huîtres (seems like the recipe to the perfect life, eh?) and thus ended our second day in Brittany. 

When we started dinner

Towards the middle of dinner

The end of dinner 

The next day we were extremely excited, because we were heading to Mont Saint-Michel, the famous island cathedral and monestary. It was unfortuantely not an island when we arrived there, but a giant salt marsh (because we hit low tide) but we enjoyed it nonetheless, learning about the lives of the monks who lived there and the history of the cathedral. 

Mont Saint-Michel

We then went to a town which was well-known for its (you guessed it) oysters. It was pretty cool because you could see oyster farms out in the water and watch the fishing boats come in with huge sacks of them. Basically instead of docking the boats, a truck would just come by, put the entire boat on a flatbed behind it (people and all) and drive it into town. Crazy! But the best part was that there were a bunch of small farmer's market-like tents right by the water that were selling the fresh oysters—and for incredibly cheap prices, too. You could buy a dozen oysters for six bucks (six bucks!!!!) and sit on the beach and eat them. It was crazy because the entire beach was basically made of oyster shells. People would buy the oysters from the tents, sit and eat them, and then toss the shells on the beach. So that's what we did, too. The huîtres were amazing and it was quite an experience. And thus ends our stay in Brittany!

Oyster farms

The oyster shell beach

Oysters are slimy and taste like seawater, but they still manage to be delicious.

The oyster stalls 

The tide was low and a ton of these boats were beached.

All right, so this next part is a summary of our three and a half days in Normandy. What you'll read will not necessarily be in chronological order, but I don't think that matters. The only thing I"ll be skipping over in this explanation of our visit will be the one day where I was terribly sick and stayed home, throwing up 9 times in 24 hours. But you don't want to hear about that. 

The next day we hopped in the car and sped on to Normandy. It's fascinating how just that one word dredges up so many associtions—associations with death and sacrifice, a bloodbath of a beach on which thousands of lives were lost in a heroic effort to begin the end of World War II. I can't say that our visit did anything to dissuade such associations; if anything it enhanced them. Visiting Omaha Beach, the bloodiest of the landing beaches and one of the two which American troops landed on, and the Pont du Hoc, where 200 US Army Rangers scaled the seaside cliffs to take out German guns, gave me a great sense of admiration for everyone on every side of this conflict, but in particular a great pride in being an American. Though I know I had nothing to do with it, I was proud to know that I could associate myself with the people who so bravely risked—and sometimes lost—everything, for so noble a cause. To be able to go into a conflict, and lay your life down for the sake of people you have never even met, who live on a different continent from you—that is bravery. And to know that those people did those things in part for their country, for my country, made me incredibly proud. I couldn't help but be in awe of them and their sacrifices, sacrifices made on that very beach. I often say that I'm not an American, I'm a San Franciscan, and honestly that's how I feel. I don't feel particularly connected with other people from the United States simply because of their nationality, I don't have any large sense of pride in seeing the American flag, and often I'm disgusted by some of the politics in my country. Besides, the United States has been at war in my lifetime, is still at war, and I cannot say that I support that. I don't honestly know enough about the wars we're involved in to make a good judgement about them, but I do know that the thought of them don't dredge up any nationalist pride in me. I am, as an American citizen, extremely un-patriotic, and as a San Franciscan citizen, quite the opposite. But standing on Omaha Beach, learning about the sacrifices of American soldiers dragged into that conflict, I was thoroughly proud to be an American. I believed strongly in the cause of that war, I felt for the people involved in it, and understood the idea of fighting for your country. What they did was brave and honorable and so impossible to be grateful enough for. And so it was on that day, standing on Omaha Beach, that I first looked at the American flag flying above me with pride.

I honestly didn't start writing that with the intention of explaining my temporary nationalistic awakening at Omaha Beach (as well as the Pont du Hoc), but I think it's a perfect way to explain how powerful it was to be there. I think Josef Stalin once said something along the lines of, "one death is a tragedy, a million deaths a statistic." I don't remember exactly how it goes, but that's the gist of it. When you read about the Normandy landings on June 6, 1944, it's hard to find the human element in that. It always is, when learning about war. The first time I really felt any human connection to that day and that landing is when I saw the movie Saving Private Ryan. The first 15-20 minutes or so were dedicated to D-Day; the entire movie was dedicated to the de-glorification of war. It was a powerful movie, and I couldn't help but think of it as we walked those beaches and looked up at those hills, or stared down into the bombshell craters and abandoned bunkers. The lives lost at that very spot… And when you hear the accounts of people who were actually there on D-Day, you begin to see that all of those pristine white gravestones in the American Cemetery there at Normandy, ordered in such perfect rows, were lives. When you see each of those gravestones as one dead, it's hard to wrap your head around the life that went with it, the human element. But instead of trying to imagine the person buried there, I tried to imagine the families. Each gravestone represents one grieving family, one group of sobbing people who lost a loved one. Somehow that helped me see how that's actually a person there. And the accounts of the survivors. Recalling friends, with their little quirks and jokes and even hardships and struggles, who died in a blink of an eye, unceremoniously, without glory. That's a lot of lives thrown away for the greater good. I know that there will never be a way for me to truly understand D-Day, and WWII, the way people who lived at the time did. But going to Omaha Beach helped open my eyes just a little bit more.

 

Memorial at Omaha Beach

Omaha Beach

The cliffs that the Rangers scaled at the Pont du Hoc.

A bunker at the top of the Pont du Hoc

It is impossible to fully grasp the fact that each of those gravestones is a young life, lost.

A memorial at the American cemetery

Lyon and Loire Valley

So, what did we do in Lyon again?

Oh right! On the day that we arrived we went out to a really nice dinner. I have to say, of all the cities that I've visited so far, I think Lyon had the best food. Every single meal that we had was spectacular! On that night in particular we ended up going home really full. We also started watching Sherlock Holmes (the one with Robert Downy, Jr.) which was really amazing. 

Our first full day in the city (the day on which we arrived doesn't count) was our "stay at home day." My parents promised my brother that we would stay home at least once a week so as not to over-exhaust ourselves. I was feeling sick in the morning, and we were all really worried that I had gotten whatever Giulia had (she still wasn't feeling well when she visited in Torino) but thankfully it passed. The next day we all headed out and went to the Musee des Beaux Arts, which translates literally to Museum of Beautiful Arts, although it can be compared to saying "Museum of Fine Arts." Anyway, we got to see a lot of art that was done anywhere from the medieval period to present day. It was quite a wide range, and we enjoyed it a lot. The weather was becoming increasingly nicer, and we got to enjoy up to 80 degree weather. And it's still spring! I've got to say, one thing that I'm beginning to understand much better now that we're spending 6 months in Europe instead of San Francisco is what traditional weather patterns actually look like. ;) We also had another delicious meal and got to finish Sherlock Holmes. SO GOOD. Robert Downy, Jr. is really good at portraying the quirkiness of Holmes' character. 

The main square outside of the Musee Beaux Arts

Public garden outside the Musee Beaux Arts

The day after that we saw Lyon's basilica and cathedral. Don't ask me what the difference is, all I know is that they're both bigger and more important than a church. The basilica was WAY over the top, with 19th century mosaics in the style of Alfons Mucha (remember him?), gold plating and color everywhere, detailed statues, and not an INCH of space left unused. Crazy. The basilica is also on a hill overlooking the entire city, so we got a great view after we finally trudged up the hill. By the way, did you know that the Virgin Mary is the patron saint of France? That's why you have all those Notre Dame cathedrals (or in this case a Notre Dame basilica), because "Notre Dame" translates to "Our Lady." Unfortunately, the cathedral was under restoration and the entire back section was closed off, so that didn't turn out to be as interesting as we expected. The restoration business is actually a very good line of work in Europe. Apparently there's a lot of opportunities and it pays well. It's hard for us to imagine because we live in a part of the world with very few old historical structures left, but in Europe there's old stuff left and right. In fact, my aunt's sister-in-law wanted to go into the restoration business, but she decided that she wasn't going to be able

to make it since she didn't have good enough connections. Crazy! 

Now THAT'S ornate.

View of Lyon from tag Basilica Notre Dame

That was pretty much all we did in Lyon. The next day we had to leave and we all packed up the car and headed for the Loire Valley. We noticed on the way that there were huge fields with vibrant yellow flowers growing. And I mean vibrant; it looked like someone had just grabbed a giant highlighter and drawn lines across the field until it was filled with color! In fact kind of like some school aged kids that I've met… ;) It was amazing, and later we figured out that it was a flower called "rapeseed," whose seeds are used to make canolla oil. Very interesting. 

We finally arrived to the place where we were staying, and I instantly fell in love with it. It actaually reminded me a bit of Sonoma, just because of the heat and the woods. We were staying in a cute little cottage in the countryside which was owned by a British woman and her French husband. (We never met him.) The surrounding area was beautiful, and we got to enjoy it while we played ping pong outside. The only shortcoming was the mosquitos; they got in everywhere and we were on a constant violent campaign against them. In the end I think we won, though, because we killed a ton of them and their bites were only itchy for about ten minutes before fading away. Ha-ha! 

Anyway, the next day we headed out to our first château! If you aren't already aware, the Loire Valley is famous for its lavish palaces built by the French aristocracy, because for a long time having a Loire Valley summer mansion/palace was extremely fashionable. These palaces are called chateaux. (Yes, yes, the plural of château is chateaux, the French are insane, let's move on.) The first château we saw was called Chambord, and was built during the Renaissance and possibly designed by Leonardo Da Vinci. Ooooooh, enticed any? ;) 

Château du Chambord

The most remarkable thing about the château was its symmetry, and in particular its staircase. The central "keep" (even though keeps are reserved for defensive castles and forts and there was nothing even remotely defensive about Chambord) was square, with a plus sign-shaped hallway in the middle and four towers, one jutting out of each corner. 

At the center of the plus sign was a central spiral staircase. Now, here's where it gets interesting. The staircase is a double helix (like DNA) so that there is not one staircase, but two, with their entrances across from each other. However because it is a double helix (if you don't know what one looks like you should look it up) two people could begin climbing the stairs from opposite sides and look across the center and be able to see each other, but never meet. 

The double helix staircase

Model of the double helix staircase

DNA double helix

Anyway, the château was overall very fun and we enjoyed it both architectually and historically (it was supposed to have housed Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette but their visit was cancelled becaue of, predictably, the French Revolution). That night we had a delicious dinner in a cave restaurant (this one rivaled even Cappadocia) and then after continuing our endless campaign against the mosquitos went to bed. 

The next day we visited another château, this one called Villandry, which was particularly remarkable for its French gardens. They included an amazingly aesthetic kitchen garden which was more creatively designed than most flower beds, an herb garden, a maze, a pond with swans, a flower garden, and a group of woods in the back of the château. Amazing. We were especially excited about the maze because (believe it or not) we had never actually been to a legitimate one before. I mean for starters, not very many public parks have mazes in the first place, especially not in the United States, and even if they do they're generally only hedges that are waist high and can be easily seen over. LAME. This one, thankfully, was a completely legitimate maze, although it was almost disappointingly easy to figure out. But it's still cool, right? We definitely enjoyed it regardless. Another interesting thing about the château is that it was renovated by a couple during the early 20th century—she was from Pennsylvania and he from Spain. How they had the money to renovate an entire French château I do not know, but they did it and the result was pretty spectacular. We ended up spending a lot of time in the gardens and in the building itself and overall enjoyed it a lot. 

Later on we headed to another château, this one called Azay-le-Rideau, which was built during the Renaissance. Unfortunately it was under restoration, but it was a beautiful island château, built in a split in a river (which was probably redirected to do that, 'cause these wealthy people were insane and were not beyond redesigning nature in accordance to their whims) and was a beautiful example of Renaissance architecture. 

Too bad it was under restoration…. :(

Anyway, that was our last day in the Loire Valley! I am still not caught up on my posting, but again, for the sake of my titles I am ending this post here. (After all, my "Naked David" title only covered the first day of, like, three weeks or something crazy like that.)

Naked David

Again, I started this post a long time ago but never finished it, so I will proceed as if we had seen Naked David  yesterday.

I don't know if you guys remember this or not (or if I even mentioned it at any point) but my brother, for a long time, has been calling Michelangelo's David "The Naked David," or even just "Naked David," as if he were a real person and that were his nickname. It started when Nicholas first saw a picture of the David and we explained the story to him. He thought it was preposterous that someone would be naked when planning to kill a giant. "I mean, who's like, 'I'm going to kill a giant!' and then takes their clothes off and poses?" He was not buying it.

Anyway, as I mentioned at the end of my last post, yesterday we went to go see Naked David at the Galleria dell'Accademia. We were all pretty excited, Naked David being one of the most famous sculptures in the world of art—scratch that, the world. Somehow we all got in the habit of speaking about Naked David as if he were a real person, so when my mom said, "We're going to meet Naked David today!" it took a while for anyone to correct her and say, "See Naked David. Come on, Mama." We were extremely glad that we (or rather, my mother) had made reservations, because when we tried to see him a few days before, the line had gone all the way around the block and in the end we gave up and decided to come back some other time. This time, we even got there a little early and were able to get some gelato ahead of time. 

We soon made our way inside, and after extremely extensive security measures entered the Hall of the Naked David. Immediately my brother said, "Naked David! Come on guys!" and practically floated over. I have to say, it was pretty grand. We looked down the hall, which was lined with statues, and there, at the end, lighted with skylights from above, stood The Whole Naked David. It was very impressive. I have yet to see a photograph which truly captures how grand it is. There's just nothing like looking down that hall and seeing a giant 13-foot statue of immaculate detail which literally looks like it's about to step off its stand and walk over to you. You walk up to the base of the statue and look up in awe. It is detailed without being over-done, perfectly realistic, as if it were just a young man who's been turned marble white and blown up in size. We just ended up walking around it over in over, soaking in the detail. I know I'm sounding pretty silly and cliched, but that's really how it felt. 

Wow. Just... wow.

Anyway, my mom and my brother ended up having to leave early for my brother's final baseball practice, so my dad and I stayed at the museum a little longer and checked out the rest of the exhibits. It was very cool, and we got to better understand how Medieval art slowly became Renaissance art over the decades.

Okay, I will now stop pretending that it is still the day after we met Naked David. That was actually 2 weeks ago. Shhhhh....

The next day was April Fool's Day! I didn't actually play very many tricks on people. Lately it's been hard to keep track of the days, and I had the advantage of knowing that it was April Fool's Day before anyone else did because of the calender on my iPod. Aren't I lucky! The only trick I played was one that I still remember my dad having played on me when I was in first or second grade (although I brought it to a whole other level). My brother and I were brushing our teeth in the bathroom and I said, "Hey Nick, tie your shoes," pointing at his bare feet. He looked down, forgetting that he wasn't even wearing shoes, and as he did I flicked my pointed finger up and hit him on the nose. (I'm sure many of you are familiar with that one.) Or, at least, I tried to flick his nose—instead I ended up accidentally whamming my entire fist into the side of his face. "Uh.... April Fools!" Everyone was very surprised.

We ended up spending the rest of the day in Siena! It wasn't very far away, and we just hopped in the car and headed over. We ended up having lunch in a plaza—which I called "Dolores Plaza" because it reminded me of Dolores Park back home with a large hill and tons of people sleeping and picnicking on the ground—and then we spent the rest of the day at the Siena Cathedral. 

"Dolores Plaza"

The cathedral was quite impressive and unusual because of the way it was built. You may or may not know that all churches and cathedrals (or at least traditional ones, particularly Gothic and Baroque) are built in the shape of a cross. What would be the central beam of the cross is called the nave, and the crossing beam is called the transept. 

Originally, the cathedral was built normally, with a nave and a transept. But then someone had the grand idea of building it even bigger--by extending the end of the nave with the altar and making it into the transept, and then extending the original transept and turning it into the nave.

As you can see, they took the existing transept and began to extend it in order to make it into the new nave.

It was a truly brilliant plan. What stopped it, you may ask? The one thing that halted every single other major building project in Western Europe: the Black Plague. 

I, personally, absolutely LOVE studying the Black Plague. It's always fascinating to get into those gritty details, and pore over the multitude of factors which lead to it and the destruction it caused. It's also crazy to imagine what it must have been like for someone living in Western Europe back then. In fact, it must have felt like the Apocalypse. Here you are with humongous numbers of people dying—in some cities the majority of the population—and at the same time there's a giant, highly trained, extremely strategic Mongolian army on your doorstep. YIKES. Anyway, Siena lost 70% of its population during the plague (both from death and people moving away, although I'm sure death must be attributed to the majority of that) and so obviously the project was never finished. Now there's just three walls there, with no roof and just outlines of Gothic arches and windows. It's pretty fascinating.

Here you can see the outline of the planned extension.

Our tour of the Siena Cathedral included the cathedral itself (which has my favorite interior of all the cathedrals I've seen in Europe so far), the library, the baptistry, the crypt (which pre-dated the cathedral and was only re-discovered recently), and the wall of the unfinished extension. The cathedral had gorgeous inlaid marble floors depicting scenes from the Bible and a beautiful dome. 

I know it's a bad picture but it was a beautiful dome.

Wow

A truly gorgeous cathedral.

The library was also interesting because it housed many medieval books, which are a fascination of mine. Nowadays you can just stop by the library and pick some random comic book or a terribly written Danielle Steel trash novel, but back in the day books were extremely rare, beautifully decorated, and VERY important, often for religious reasons. Makes Danielle Steel feel almost like an insult. 

Unfortunately this is the only photo of the books that came out. 

Ceiling of the library 

The baptistry was also very beautiful, and included a baptismal font which was carved and decorated by many famous artists, including Donatello and Ghiberti. 

Baptismal font

The crypt, though, was something else. It had been used as a roadside chapel for pilgrims LONG before the cathedral was even suggested, and had many frescoes on the walls depicting Biblical scenes, used by the pilgrims to refresh their memories of Biblical stories as they continued on their pilgrimige. Like I said, books were very rare, so often pictures were used instead. Anyway, the crypt was basically a cave underneath the cathedral. Very cool. (Unfortunately we weren't allowed to take pictures.) In some ways it reminded me of Cappadocia, where there were cave churches complete with frescoes built into the cliffsides. They also had down there (as a temporary exhibit) a painting of some nun looking lady licking blood out of Jesus's wound in his side. WEIRD. It turned out that this "nun lady" was St. Catherine of Siena, one of two patron saints of Italy and one of six patron saints for all of Europe. Pretty cool. And believe me, her story is MUCH more interesting than St. Zita's. (Like, angels baking bread for you? Really?) St. Catherine of Siena, though vampire-like and creepy in her depiction in the crypt, was actually quite the powerful character. Born during the Black Plague, she decided to dedicate herself to God (although she wasn't a nun) and from a young age began sending out letters to different religious groups throughout Europe, instructing them on worship. She also had a large group of followers herself. She eventually was sent around Europe by her higher ups in the Catholic Church and worked like a diplomat or a politician, arranging things and reaching agreements between different groups of Catholics. She was also (and here comes the weird part) an anorexic, throwing up her food if she was required to eat and living solely off of the Eucarist at mass each day. She even claimed to have been married to God in her visions. Still though, in a time where women had zero rights it's pretty cool that she managed to be an international religious diplomat, reknown for her persuasive and diplomatic abilities, despite her oddities. Not surprisingly, she died of exhuastion in her 30s (the Eucarist alone is not the most solid diet). 

Um, okay…

St. Catherine of Siena is not to be confused with St. Catherine of Alexandria, who was another powerful female saint with great political persuasion. St. Catherine of Alexandria lived as a Catholic under Roman rule before the Romans were converted to Christianity. She too gathered a large group of followers in her home town, slowly converting people to her religion. Eventually she was called to Rome by the emperor and in a debate manageed to convert all of his major generals and advisors to Christianity. The emperor then decided that he needed to execute her and put her on some sort of wheel device to kill her, which promptly broke. Finally they just cut off her head. As I like to say, St. Catherine of Alexandria won sainthood on four counts: extreme devotion, converting of others, a miracle, and martyrdom. Not to mention the fact that she, too was a powerful female figure in a time when women generally lacked power.

Anyway, the final part of our tour of the cathedral was the wall. Just like in the dome in Florence, we squeezed up a tiny set of stairs to the top of the wall and got a gorgeous view of the rest of the city. Thankfully, we didn't have to squeeze by people like we did in the dome, so it wasn't as hazardous and difficult. The view of both the city and the countryside were beautiful, though. 

Gorgeous, dah-ling 

View of the rest of the cathedral from the unfinished wall.

After climbing down those tiny stairs again we went and got the most expensive gelato of our lives, including a Smurf flavored gelato, and headed home. (In case you were wondering, Smurfs taste like extra sweet vanilla. My mom kept saying, "I wonder what it tastes like," and I said, "Duh Mama, it tastes like Smurfs.") 

This photo's kinda blurry but LOOK HOW BIG THAT CONE IS!!!

Hahahahaha, Smuuuuuuurfs!

The morning of the next day was relatively unremarkable (we stayed home and did some schoolwork) but the evening was extremely exciting. Giugi and Ella were arriving! I think the best thing about our trip so far is that we get to see Giugi and Ella all the time. Usually we only get to see them once a year, but now we're getting to see them once a month, or more! Not only are they great cousins, but Giugi and Nick are like best friends and Ella is the craziest little klid who ever danced on this earth. Anyway, we bought birthday gifts for them: a new scooter for Giulia (her old one got stolen) and a dancing game for Ella. It was great to see our peeps again. 

The next day we went to the Uffizi, home of The Birth of Venus and Primavera, among other amazing art pieces. I wish we had been able to spend a lot more time there, because we missed out on a lot! We did see some of the most famous pieces, but there was a lot of other great art that I wish we could have seen. Anyway, we left the house (the eight ouf us) and stopped by and got gelato, after which Ella was on a crazy sugar high and ran around and caused a ruckus. 

That girl is a maniac.

We went through extremely extensive security and then walked around and tried to see as much as we coulld. It still wasn't enough. But there's got to be a reason to go back! And we definitely enjoyed what we saw. ;)

The Uffizi

The Birth of Venus

Primavera

The day after that it was pouring rain. I mean POURING rain. Unfortunately, when we timed our lunch at the Mercato Centrale, we made a huge mistake and ended up leaving the house at the height of the rain. When we arrived we were sopping wet and accompanied by some very grumpy and whiny children. Lunch was delicious, though. When we arrived back to the apartment we discovered that my iPod had gotten wet and its speakers weren't working! I had to go without it for the rest of the day but thankfully it was all dry by the next morning. Which was, by the way, Easter! We kids were all very excited because my aunt and uncle brought us some massive chocolate Easter eggs and the adults put together an Easter egg hunt for us. I swear, I will never be too old for those. ;) So we ended up with a LOT of chocolate. And I am a total chocoholic. 

Anyway, we didn't find the last of the Easter eggs (the rest of them were found by evening) but we decided to head out and walk around. We walked outside of the Duomo and went to another church which had a beautiful marble altar inside. Eventually we kind of ran out of things to do (lots of stuff was closed for the Easter holiday) and so we headed for the amusement park which is set up in the park by our apartment. Most of the rides weren't the scariest (I'm a super hardcore roller coaster rider) but there were a few which were a lot of fun. Unfortunately I can't post videos of them, but if you'd like check out my Instagram @sachiko_happiness to see. Basically there was this one ride which was kind of like those pirate ship rides which swing back and forth, except it would then slowly swing all the way up and over into a full circle—and by slowly I mean enough that there wasn't any parabollic curve to keep you stuck to your seat and you kind of fell forward. Pretty cool. And bumper cars. The bumper cars were fun, for once in my life. Generally I don't like them because you just end up going in circles and getting stuck, but this time I was good enough that I could angle to hit other people perfectly and I never got stuck. I'm going to be such a great driver in three years! ;) Just kidding. It was funny though because I shared a car with little Ella and she was determined to steer herself, except she was really bad at it and just got it stuck. So I let her keep her hands on the wheel and try to steer and kept my right hand casually on the wheel as well so that I could easily fix things if we got stuck. Kids are so funny, I totally would have acted the same way as she did when I was her age! 

The next day we had to leave Florence! We had pretty much finished packing the night before, so we were all ready to go. Unfortunately Giugi was feeling sick and ended up throwing up twice before we even left the parking lot! The poor girl threw up numerous times over the rest of the day and didn't even leave the car when we stopped for lunch or eat anything more than a piece of fennel. 

This is where we stopped for lunch whole Giugi was sick.

When we arrived to Sestri Levante, the beach town that we were spending the night in, my uncle left us and got on a train to get back to Milan (he had work the next day) and my parents, Nick, Ella and I went to the beach. Giugi and my Auntie Gioia stayed home. I have to say, going to the beach was fun despite it being freezing cold, the middle of spring, and 7 in the evening. After that we went out to dinner and came brought a pizza home for my aunt. 

The sunset was beautiful though…

The next day Giugi was still sick, but we dragged ourselves to the beach. It was actually really pleasant and warm and we spent the day just hanging out while Giugi slept under a pile of towels and clothes. 

I knew this is kind of a random photo but I like it a lot.

Hard to remember that it's still only spring!

Unfortunately we had to leave that afternoon and we headed on to our next destination: the Borolo wine region. You can bet my parents were excited about that. ;) We drove for a looooooong time and then finally arrived at this cute little apartment on the top of a hill overlooking the entire valley with a gorgeous view from my brother's and my room of the surrounding rolling hills and the Alps in the distance. (That was kind of a run-on sentence but I love it anyway.) The next two days were spent going wine tasting (not the most interesting for me so I won't go into detail) complete with a dinner on the balcony with the gorgeous view. It was amazing! Oh, and I also saw a sign at one of the wine tasting places that said, "Wine is how classy people get wasted." That was pretty funny. 

Anyway, then we headed for Torino! We only spent two nights there, but it was great because I finally got to meet our family friends the Miroglios. Basically, my grandfather went to medical school in Geneva after he left seminary school. It worked extremely well because he was already fluent in French. There he met Perguido Miroglio, who became a close family friend. Unfortunately he passed away quite a few years ago, so I never got to meet him, but his wife and kids (who are both older than my parents) still live in Torino. 

The one on the left is my grandfather and the one on the right is Uncle Perguido.

The day after we arrived we met up with Perguido's son, Luca, and he brought us on a guided tour of the city's Ancient Egypt museum (which is the most extensive in Europe) and we all hung out for the rest of the afternoon. 

An awesome ancient Egyptian wig! 

A 5-year-old mummy! Whoa!

After that we met up again for dinner, this time with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, who drove down from Milan, and Luca's mother Ornella and sister Sabra. It was an amazing dinner and we all enjoyed it a lot. There was even a dessert which was basically a cup made of chocolate filled with whipped cream and floating in a bowl of liquid chocolate and coffee. It was AMAZING. 

The day after the dinner we left Torino and spent all day driving to our next destination: Lyon. We're finally in France! 

Actually, to explain why we're in France I am going to tell you the story about my brother when he was three. 

When Nicholas was in pre-school he had a teacher named Mr. Sanath. In the realm of pre-school teachers, Mr. Sanath was pretty unique. He taught the kids about all kinds of things which three-and-four-year-olds generally don't know about, like Easter Island and the atmosphere and crazy stuff like that. Whenever Nick came home from school and talked about what he learned that day, it would always start as, "Mr. Sanath says..." and then he would go on to describe something fascinating. Or sometimes he would surprise us all and when the adults were having some sort of conversation that was way over my head he would jump in and say, "Yeah! Mr. Sanath says..." So it was only mildly surprising when Nick came home from school and started talking about Charles Lindbergh, the first aviator to fly across the Atlantic. I was 6 years old at the time and had absolutely no idea who Charles Lindbergh was, so I was very impressed. Nicholas was entranced with the stories of courage and the unknown and held on to a romantacized idea of Lindbergh arriving to Paris, bedecked with awards and praise, to the background of Parisian cafés and a streetside musician playing the accordian. He was also, you must remember, only three years old at the time, and very attached to his parents. So whenever my mom and I dropped him off at pre-school he would throw a fit and cry and hang onto her legs and lots of times I would end up late for school. The only way we could get him to arrive to pre-school peacefully was by strapping him up in his little aviator's hat and leather jacket, pretending that my mom's Rav4 was the Spirit of St. Louis, and playing La Vie en Rose all the way from "New York" to "Paris". It was then, at that tender young age, that Nicholas decided that he wanted to go to Paris at some point in his life. And that is why we are in France. 

So! We have done something in our past two days in Lyon, but for the sake of my titles I will cut this post off here and describe it in my next one. So long, peeps! 🇫🇷