Wordless Wednesday: Ruins With A View

Wordless Wednesday: Tis The Season

Wanderlust...

I'm getting that itch again. Whereas we were always on the go and traveling when we were living in Albania, life in Belgium is a bit more staid. While we are enjoying our time here much more than our Balkan experience, we are traveling a lot less. And I miss it. I have that travel itch and it is only getting worse. But without a big trip on the horizon I'm reliving some of my favorite trips from the past few years. And here's a (re)post about last fall's trip to Tuscany. I loved every moment of it and can't wait to go back. (Soon I hope). But in the meantime, this is all I have.

We spent the past weekend exploring the hill towns of Tuscany.  While it was a first trip for Glenn and Sidney, it was an encore one for me and I was excited to introduce my boys to a part of Italy that I absolutely adore.  I first visited Tuscany in 2008 with my mom when we spent twelve glorious days eating, drinking, and exploring our way from Lucca to Siena and everywhere in between.  The trip was so memorable that I have been talking and thinking about this beautiful place ever since and I had been dying to go back.  Despite my desire, a small part of me feared returning since there was the chance that Tuscany wouldn't live up to my memories.  Fortunately I was wrong.  Dead wrong in fact.  As we retraced my footsteps every place was just as wonderful, if not more so, than I remembered it being. 

Two things struck me immediately.  The first thing I noticed was that Tuscany was filled with more American tourists than I remembered.  Whether we were in line waiting to pick up our rental car, on the train to Lucca, or sitting at a local wine festival in Greve, Americans were everywhere.  I almost think we saw more Americans than we did Italians.  Or at least it felt that way since our dining companions at even the most tucked away restaurants were fellow Americans. The other thing I noticed was the sheer beauty of Tuscany; it was more spectacular than I remembered.  In many ways the scenery, filled with rolling hills, vineyards, and stone buildings, was so idyllic it felt like a cliche.  If you've ever seen a calendar of Tuscan scenes and wondered whether they are real or not, trust me--they are. 

We packed a lot into our long weekend.  Of course it wouldn't be a trip to Pisa without standing in the shadow of the City's famous Leaning Tower.  But as it usually the case, the best parts of the country are those outside of the urban areas.  We took the train to the walled city of Lucca and despite the rain, spent several hours walking along the broad wall and meandering through the narrow cobblestone streets and alleys that are quintessential Italy.  With our little rental car (Sidney said it was like his Cozy Coupe), we set out across the Tuscan hills to Siena where I finally climbed to the top of the Torre del Mangia in the Piazza del Campo.  My fear of heights prevented me from doing it the first time I visited but this time I was determined to accompany Sidney and Glenn to the top.  The famous Palio di Siena horse race takes place in the square twice a year but during our visit it was pleasantly tranquil (except for the other American tourists) providing Sidney with ample room to chase pigeons.  We visited the famous wine town of Montepulciano where we of course sampled the local beverage.  In Greve in Chianti we happened upon a local wine and food festival and joined the locals (and American tourists) in drinking wine and eating massive plates of fresh grilled meats and beans.  Just outside of Greve we walked through the narrow alleys of Montefioralle and dreamed about what it would be like to have a retirement home in this hilltop village.  In between all of this we took in miles upon miles of rolling hills covered with vineyards, olive groves, and cypress lined lanes leading to hilltop villas.  Avoiding the highways we drove along both paved and dirt roads stopping to take pictures and just enjoy the views along the way.  The whole experience was just so relaxing.

And of course we ate.  While Sidney had his fill of pizza with the occasional pasta thrown in for variety, Glenn and I were able to eat fresh pastas and other specialities to our hearts desire.  Autumn is truffle season in Tuscany so this delicacy was on the menu as was Glenn's all time favorite dessert, tirimisu.  Sidney is now a fan as well and most nights ended with my two boys spoon-fighting over the last remnants on the dessert plate.  Tuscany is probably best known for her wine and of course it didn't disappoint.  In Albania I am loathe to order the house wine in a restaurant but in Tuscany, that is all we drank and it was good.  Really good.  Unfortunately because we were flying home we were limited in what we could buy but we enjoyed what we could.  (We will just have to go back to drink some more).



I loved Tuscany the first time but love it all the more now.  Seeing it through Sidney's eyes, complete with water fountains, "pretty" fields, and yes pigeons, gave me a whole new appreciation for the region.  I will never get tired of the scenery, the food, or the gentle feel of Tuscany.  Once again, I can't wait to go back. 

Wordless Wednesday: Harvest

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: Italian Dreaming (Again)

Somehow the country has gotten into my blood and I just can't stop thinking about it.

A Visit To Italy's Dying City

Civita di Bagnoregio perched atop the hill

Every time I visit Italy fall in love with the country even more.  Our most recent jaunt across the Adriatic took us to the Viterbo region.  Located north of Rome, the little piece of Italy is as beautiful as the rest of the country.  Because we were visiting friends who are lucky enough to call Viterbo home, we had the opportunity to see towns that are often missed by passing travelers in their rush to get from Florence and Rome.  We saw many beautiful places during our short tip (those will be topics for future blog entries) but my favorite place by far was the hilltop village of Civita di Bagnoregio.

Fog lifting over the Tiber River valley; this wouldn't be a bad
view to wake up to each morning

Called Italy's "dying city" due to its precarious location atop a plateau overlooking the Tiber River valley, this ancient Etruscan city dates back twenty five hundred years and was the birthplace of Saint Bonaventure who died in 1274.  Once a thriving community, extensive erosion of the clay earth, coupled by major earthquakes, helped hasten its decline to a shadow of its former self by the 17th century.  Today, Civita di Bagnoregio is essentially an island set off by itself, only accessible by a narrow, reinforced pathway.  This "island" is getting smaller as, despite ongoing countermeasures to prevent further erosion, buildings perched on the outer edges of the city are crumbling and falling into the valley below.  In 2006 it was listed on the World Monuments Fund's list of the 100 Most Endangered Sites because of the ongoing erosion.

Today only a handful of people call Civita di Bagnoregio home.  One census claims that there are 12 year around residents with the population "booming" to 100 in the summer.  Bed and breakfasts and cafes fill the remarkably well preserved structures that remain within the walls.  Because the village is a pedestrian only zone--even if vehicles could enter the walls, the narrow lanes would prohibit their movement---everything that can't be hand carried is driven in by golf carts and all visitors must walk up the long and narrow approach to reach the inner walls.  The day we visited there were few tourists and locals were busy staging the entire village for a live nativity scene.  Coupled with the lifting fog, the village felt as though it was trapped in time and it was the epitome of everything I think of when I dream about an Italian village.  We wandered the narrow lanes just taking it all in and marveling at the beauty.  In one shop we saw pictures of Civita di Bagnoreio through the ages starting when it was a part of the surrounding hillside towns to the isolated peninsula it is today.  The visible changes were obvious only driving home the notion that the village is literally falling off of the cliff.  Sidney was particularly entranced with the well fed and friendly (unless you were a dog) village cats that roamed freely.  I loved the hidden and meticulously maintained stairways and doorways leading into the buildings.  Despite it being late December, clay flowerpots overflowed with brightly colored blooming plants and vines.

Civita di Bagnoregio is one of the most beautiful and enchanting places I have ever visited and the thought that after thousands of years it may cease to exist, saddens me.  I feel fortunate that I was able to visit and definitely want to return.  As much as I fantasize about buying my own little piece of Italian real estate however, this is probably not the best place to invest.  But returning, and perhaps even spending the night in one of the small bed and breakfasts?  Now that sounds like the perfect Italian vacation.

A house with a view--for the moment anyway

Along the crumbling outer wall looking back into the village

When In Chianti.....

......eat and drink like a Tuscan!  And that is exactly what we did during our recent trip.

All of Tuscany is beautiful but I am particularly partial to the town, or commune, of Greve in Chianti.  I first visited this beautiful place with my mom several years ago when we used Greve as our "home base" as we explored both Greve and the surrounding Tuscan towns.  Centrally located midway between Pisa, Florence, and Siena, amidst mile upon mile of rolling hillsides covered with vineyards, you can't ask for a more perfect location.  I had been wanting to go back and while we didn't spend the night in Greve during our recent trip, we did happen to visit on the most perfect of fall Sunday afternoons.  And it turns out that we were just in time for Greve's annual Cuochi e Beccai (Chefs and Butchers), a festival dedicated to typical Tuscan beef and beef dishes.

We weren't expecting to encounter a meat festival; rather we were hoping for a good meal, good wine, and perhaps the opportunity to fulfill Sidney's lunchtime request of "sausages."  (Yes, the boy who usually requests pizza or pasta for lunch wanted sausages while we were in Italy).  It turns out we were a week late for the festival, but due to inclement weather it had been rescheduled to the perfectly sunny October afternoon we just happened to be passing through.  Talk about luck!

Now in its seventh year, this food festival is a meat lovers dream.  Greve's small restaurant lined town square (which is actually shaped like a triangle) was filled with craft vendors and the largest outdoor grill I have ever seen.  The unmistakable aroma of grilling meat filled the air as we took in the sights around us.  Italian food is more diverse than many people realize with each region having their own specialties. Tuscany is known for their local produce, pure white Chianina cattle, cannellini beans, and of course Chianti wine.  And for 16 Euros a person, guests at the festival were treated to a heaping plateful of all of these delicacies accompanied by a commemorative glass of local wine.  Not only did Sidney get his sausages (four in all) but each plate also included a slab of ribs that were so tender they literally fell off of the bones and a thick piece of rare T-bone steak that could feed a small family for a week.  There was meat, meat, and more meat.

The event appeared to be popular with locals and tourists alike.  We took our overflowing plates and found seats at plank tables where our dining companions included a young Italian woman and her elderly father, a French couple who was roughly our age, and older British and American tourists.  The tables around us seated a similar hodge-podge of families, dogs, couples, and the ubiquitous groups of teenagers that we have come to expect in every city we visit.  Together we enjoyed the food and wine, discussed how good it all was in a variety of languages, and discovered that there really isn't a polite or easy way to eat meat with plastic forks and knives.  It turns out that fingers are universally acceptable utensils when eating ribs.

The meal was simple.  Chewy thick slices of bread, creamy white beans whose only seasoning was salt and pepper, and a variety of freshly grilled meat.  And it was because of this simplicity that this was one of the best meals I have eaten in a long time and the single best one we had during our Italian vacation.  We didn't plan on attending the festival but are sure glad that we happened upon it.  It was the perfect unexpected conclusion to our Tuscan adventure (while providing us with a week's worth of protein).

Meat grilling

(Mostly) Wordless Wednesday: House Hunters International- Tuscany

The idea all started here in 2008:

A fixer upper outside of Greve in Chianti (complete with vineyards
and olive groves of course)

And we're still looking and dreaming:

An ideal location

We might need some windows with this one

Rolling fields

Lots of olive groves

Or maybe a cathedral?

Because dreaming beats reality!

A Leaning Tower

At an angle

The Leaning Tower of Pisa is perhaps one of the most iconic and well known sights in the world because, well, the tower leans.  It wasn't actually designed to lean but ever since it took on its tilt early in her 344 year construction history, it has remained that way.  So why does the tower lean?  Apparently it was constructed with an inadequate foundation on soft ground that began to sink in 1178 once the second floor was added to the tower.  Logic would dictate that construction would have stopped but instead it continued until the resulting construction project was the 14,500 ton marble and granite masterpiece it is today.  When completed the south side of the tower was 187.27 feet and had 296 steps while the north side stood at 186 feet and had 294 steps.  The difference sounds minuscule results in a noticeable tilt.  The degree of the lean increased through the centuries with ongoing debates as to whether or not the tower should simply be straightened. The 1989 collapse of the Civic Tower of Pavia outside of Milan hastened the decision to fortify Pisa's tower and when it reopened to the public in 2001 the tower still had a lean but was a bit straighter, sturdier, and more importantly, the work was promised to hold for another 300 years.  (None of us will be around in 2301 to test the workmanship but you get the idea).  How is that for a warranty?

Another perspective

Despite all of this, a visit to the Leaning Tower is pretty darn cool.  I seriously don't like heights but managed to overcome them during my first visit to Pisa where I slowly followed the crowds as we wound our way up the spiral to the top of the tower.  Sure you can visually see the lean from the outside of the tower but once inside, the tilt is even more noticeable as you climb the stairs.  Compounding the lean is the fact that these stairs, all 294 and 296 of them, have been worn by visitors and time, making them concave in spots and convoluted in others.  I found it rather unnerving to make my tilted way to the top and then back down again and wasn't sure whether I was standing erect or at a tilt once I was back on the ground.

During my most recent visit to Pisa I noticed that the tower isn't the only thing that is leaning in the city.  The nearby Duomo also appears to have an ever so slight tilt to it which would make sense given its close proximity to the tower.  At first I thought it was just my imagination but when Glenn commented on it I thought that perhaps I was onto something.  It makes me wonder if the entire city is sinking?  Or at least the area around the Duomo and tower.  (Sink holes immediately come to mind!).  I can't find any evidence that says it is but the region is in a medium risk zone for earthquakes so what would a moderate sized tremor do to the already leaning architecture?  I'm not saying it is going to happen but it does make me wonder...............

Wordless Wednesday: Under The Tuscan Sky

Return To Tuscany

Me and the Pisa Pigeon- 2008

We spent the past weekend exploring the hill towns of Tuscany.  While it was a first trip for Glenn and Sidney, it was an encore one for me and I was excited to introduce my boys to a part of Italy that I absolutely adore.  I first visited Tuscany in 2008 with my mom when we spent twelve glorious days eating, drinking, and exploring our way from Lucca to Siena and everywhere in between.  The trip was so memorable that I have been talking and thinking about this beautiful place ever since and I had been dying to go back.  Despite my desire, a small part of me feared returning since there was the chance that Tuscany wouldn't live up to my memories.  Fortunately I was wrong.  Dead wrong in fact.  As we retraced my footsteps every place was just as wonderful, if not more so, than I remembered it being.

Two things struck me immediately.  The first thing I noticed was that Tuscany was filled with more American tourists than I remembered.  Whether we were in line waiting to pick up our rental car, on the train to Lucca, or sitting at a local wine festival in Greve, Americans were everywhere.  I almost think we saw more Americans than we did Italians.  Or at least it felt that way since our dining companions at even the most tucked away restaurants were fellow Americans. The other thing I noticed was the sheer beauty of Tuscany; it was more spectacular than I remembered.  In many ways the scenery, filled with rolling hills, vineyards, and stone buildings, was so idyllic it felt like a cliche.  If you've ever seen a calendar of Tuscan scenes and wondered whether they are real or not, trust me--they are.

We packed a lot into our long weekend.  Of course it wouldn't be a trip to Pisa without standing in the shadow of the City's famous Leaning Tower.  But as it usually the case, the best parts of the country are those outside of the urban areas.  We took the train to the walled city of Lucca and despite the rain, spent several hours walking along the broad wall and meandering through the narrow cobblestone streets and alleys that are quintessential Italy.  With our little rental car (Sidney said it was like his Cozy Coupe), we set out across the Tuscan hills to Siena where I finally climbed to the top of the Torre del Mangia in the Piazza del Campo.  My fear of heights prevented me from doing it the first time I visited but this time I was determined to accompany Sidney and Glenn to the top.  The famous Palio di Siena horse race takes place in the square twice a year but during our visit it was pleasantly tranquil (except for the other American tourists) providing Sidney with ample room to chase pigeons.  We visited the famous wine town of Montepulciano where we of course sampled the local beverage.  In Greve in Chianti we happened upon a local wine and food festival and joined the locals (and American tourists) in drinking wine and eating massive plates of fresh grilled meats and beans.  Just outside of Greve we walked through the narrow alleys of Montefioralle and dreamed about what it would be like to have a retirement home in this hilltop village.  In between all of this we took in miles upon miles of rolling hills covered with vineyards, olive groves, and cypress lined lanes leading to hilltop villas.  Avoiding the highways we drove along both paved and dirt roads stopping to take pictures and just enjoy the views along the way.  The whole experience was just so relaxing.

And of course we ate.  While Sidney had his fill of pizza with the occasional pasta thrown in for variety, Glenn and I were able to eat fresh pastas and other specialities to our hearts desire.  Autumn is truffle season in Tuscany so this delicacy was on the menu as was Glenn's all time favorite dessert, tirimisu.  Sidney is now a fan as well and most nights ended with my two boys spoon-fighting over the last remnants on the dessert plate.  Tuscany is probably best known for her wine and of course it didn't disappoint.  In Albania I am loathe to order the house wine in a restaurant but in Tuscany, that is all we drank and it was good.  Really good.  Unfortunately because we were flying home we were limited in what we could buy but we enjoyed what we could.  (We will just have to go back to drink some more).

I loved Tuscany the first time but love it all the more now.  Seeing it through Sidney's eyes, complete with water fountains, "pretty" fields, and yes pigeons, gave me a whole new appreciation for the region.  I will never get tired of the scenery, the food, or the gentle feel of Tuscany.  Once again, I can't wait to go back.

Visiting the Chianti Rooster in Greve

Under the Shadow of Vesuvius

Just one of the city's meandering roads

Last weekend we visited the ruins of Pompeii.  Since elementary school I had been reading about the ancient city's tragic fate and I had always wondered about a place that just seemed so far off and mysterious.  Being that this was our fourth trip to Italy in the past year, we decided it was time to visit this UNESCO World Heritage site receiving 2,500,000 visitors a year and see it for ourselves.

Petrified remains; human and other

The demise of ancient Pompeii came about with the eruption of nearby Mount Vesuvius on 24 August 79 AD.  (Yes, this is ancient history).  Over the course of three days, between thirteen to twenty feet of ash and pumice from the erupting volcano buried everything that laid in its path of destruction.  Buildings, humans, and animals and all of their accompanying accessories were petrified where they stood and lay undiscovered and undisturbed for close to 1700 years.

Prior to its destruction, Pompeii was a city covering over 160 acres with a population of approximately 20,000 inhabitants that was still recovering and rebuilding from an earthquake that had destroyed parts of the city close to twenty years before.  Its economy was largely agricultural but Pompeii was also a vacation destination for wealthy Romans.  Located much closer to the sea at the time it was by all accounts a thriving part of Italy's Campania region.

I just love these

Portions of the buried city were first uncovered in 1599 and excavations have been continuing ever since.  While parts of the ruined city remain buried and untouched, what is believed to be the majority of the preserved ruins are open for viewing with more opening to the public each year.  I thought I knew what to expect when visiting but in reality, I was unprepared for the expansive awesomeness of Pompeii.

Evidence of the city's successful heyday is clearly shown in the excavated ruins.  We visited on a relatively cool and cloudy day which worked to our advantage both in terms of thin crowds who might have been deterred by the weather and the sun since there is essentially no natural shade in Pompeii.  We spent several hours roaming through well-worn narrow cobblestone streets and brick ruins, viewing amazingly well preserved frescoes, and since Sidney was us, splashing in muddy puddles and sampling from corner water fountains.  Wandering past the remnants of what had once been shops I wondered about the goods that might have been sold there.  Standing in the shadow of the Edifici Amministrazione Pubblica I wondered about the judges who once ruled on court cases in these impressive confines.  Climbing the steps in the Teatre Grande I thought about the groups that had gathered in this grand amphitheater.  Viewing a well-preserved but spartan kitchen I wondered about the meals that were created within its confines.

Because of my love of all things history I always appreciate the historical significance of all of the ancient sites we visit.  The sheer will, hard work, and determination that went into erecting these buildings, streets, and cities long before the advent of heavy machinery and equipment that today makes such feats easy.  How long must it have taken to place each stone and brick in place?  (The fact that Pompeii was still recovering from an earthquake twenty years after the fact speaks directly to this difficulty).  Beyond the architecture and infrastructure, however, I wonder about the people who walked, worked, and lived within this ancient city.  Regardless of one's socio-economic class, life would not have been easy by today's standards.  Take the aforementioned kitchen for example; cooking the simplest of meals must have been such a tedious task.  Given the hard sharp edges of the buildings and streets, I wondered where the children played.  Did their mothers worry about cuts and bruises as much as I did while we were there?  (As if to put my worries to a test, Sidney experienced his own share of falls and scrapes during our visit).  While it is not possible, I would love to be able to spend just one day walking in the footsteps of one of Pompeii's (or any ancient civilization for that matter) citizens.

Our visit to Pompeii was memorable and should be a definite stop on everyone's travel itinerary through the Campania region of Italy. There is a reason that Pompeii has been a tourist destination for over 250 years, was included as part of the traditional Grand Tour of Europe and still attracts so many visitors each year.  If you get a chance to go, do it.  You won't regret it.

The Temple of Jupiter with Mt Vesuvius looming in the background

Going Ashore With the Teeming Masses

Welcome to Italy

Last week we took a quick weekend trip to Naples and Pompeii Italy.  As we have done twice before, we took the overnight car ferry from Durres, Albania to Bari, Italy.  I'm not a fan of this method of travel but taking our car allows us to shop at the U.S. Naval Base in Naples and stock up on those "must have" items that we can't get shipped to us via the pouch.

When it is on schedule, the Adria Ferry departs Durres at 2300 and arrives in Bari the next morning at 0800.  The Port of Durres has improved greatly over the past year; what were rutted dirt parking lots and ramshackle ticket booths a year ago has been replaced with pavement, permanent sales buildings, and secure customs booths.  However, some things don't change.  Signage is still lacking and street lights are non-existent.  Being the good American doobies we are, we arrived at the terminal at the designated time of two hours prior to departure.  We were the first ones there and ergo our automobile was the first one loaded onto the very large, filled to capacity ferry.  On our past trips cars have been backed onto the ferry which allows for a speedier and safer departure on the other side of the sea.  This time they had us drive straight in.  Our "deluxe" stateroom had a small window, three bunk beds with the thinnest mattresses I have ever seen, and our very own, all-in-one toilet, sink, shower room (a.k.a. as the bathroom).  Despite the humming of the engines and the diesel fumes that permeated the air (these smells brought Glenn back to his deployment days) we all slept relatively well and awoke the next morning ready to take on Italy.

Our approach to the Port of Bari was calm and the ferry was on time.  We naively thought we'd be off the boat within a hour and then be on our way across the "ankle" of Italy to our destination.  How wrong we were. The port was especially busy on this particular morning with four large car ferries arriving within minutes of each other.  Of course ours was the last to arrive and we pulled up to a middle berth.  Immediately we saw the chaos that was going to ensue.

The ferry

As if on cue, all four ferries began disembarking passengers and vehicles simultaneously.  Only drivers are allowed in the vehicle holds so thousands of people toting luggage, pets, and small children milled around the edges of the piers.  Buses and tractor trailers backed out of the ferries and into the teeming human masses.  Bewildered passengers with luggage in tow walked aimlessly between vehicles looking for either the pedestrian terminal and public transportation or their own personal vehicles.  Cars stopped mid-ramp or mid-travel lane to allow their passengers to get in.  And each and every vehicle, whether driving in reverse or front facing needed to take a left turn in order to get off of the boat.  Needless to say, no one, whether on foot or by car, was getting any place fast.  Mediterranean machismo tempers flared and car horns blared.  Pedestrians ignored the few poor Port Authority employees who were half heartily attempting to direct traffic.  As time crept by and no progress was being made, the situation only got worse.  Drivers were getting out of cars to yell at the people in front of them who were also stuck in the non-moving traffic.  More than one smoking and sauntering man was nearly run over by backwards moving buses.  (Somehow this became the drivers' faults; I don't know about you but regardless of who has the right of way, I cede to larger on coming vehicles). Those vehicles that were fortunate enough to snake towards the immigration booths were stymied by only having two agents on duty.  We just gave up and waited as patiently as possible off to the side of the chaos. (This isn't always easy when you have already had a long, sleepless night).  There wasn't any point in Glenn's trying to get to our car since he would either be fumigated by the carbon monoxide that filled the ferry's vehicle hold or deafened by the echoing horn honks.  Really people, if cars are already log jammed, laying on your horn is not going to get them to move!

We experienced this on a single morning but this scene is replicated every day of the year.  I can't imagine the dread that port employees, immigration agents, and general laborers must feel (or should feel) when they see these ferries pulling in each morning.  The chaos is unbelievable and could so easily be eased with a few modifications.  Ferry arrival times could be staggered so only one ferry arrives at a time; ferries could tie up the piers in an order that would ease traffic flow; traffic and pedestrian laws could be enforced ensuring a safer and easier departure for all parties; immigration lines could be actual well marked lanes that are easy to understand.  Any of these simple measures could make this experience less dreadful.  Port management could take some cues from the management of German or Scandinavian port management; these Italian-Albanian behaviors would not be tolerated outside of the Mediterranean.  

Just when I think the ferry experience will not be that bad, it is.  Glenn is already talking about a return trip.  This time he is proposing that we visit a more northern area of Italy.  Unfortunately the ferry ride to the port of Ancona would be hours longer and I seriously doubt their conditions would be any better.  So here is the conundrum:  my love of Italy and all she holds vs the pain, agony, and chaos of dealing with the ports.  (Seriously, ferry travel in Southern Europe makes passing through TSA security seem like a breeze).  Less than one week out, I'm not willing to make the sacrifice.  Ask me again in a few months, and I'm sure Italy will be calling again. Without a doubt I know I will be going back...........