Greetings from...
Posted: Sat Dec 13, 2008 5:38 am
...a married woman. A ball and chain. An old lady. 
I thought about making this trivial and offering clues as to where we finally tied the knot. Screw that. It's 6am and I have much to do today. But maybe some of you who claim to have to have geography in your wheelhouses can make it a personal test. In all the people that we have spoken to since eloping, one lonely little soul actually knew where we had been and to what country it belongs.
Sardinia.
It was beautiful and quaint...still very much 'old world' even if they have all the trappings of modern life. We were married in a medieval castle overlooking the sea in a small town called Castelsardo. It's Italian, but with a lot of French and Catalan influences, especially in the cooking. The food and wine were incredible. Every little hovel we passed had a few grape vines, and most also had their own cork trees too, as well as sheep and goats. The landscape of the northern interior of the island was almost indescribable. The people were very kind. As a rule, it seemed, Italians LOVE babies. It started at the Milan gate in the Newark airport: every last Italian we met just had to meet Nina. "Ciao bella! Belissima bambina!" They didn't hold back...perfect strangers would take her from our arms and kiss and cuddle her. Teenage boys would put down their drinks, walk out of the bar, to come see the baby strolling by on the street. The waiters routinely scooped her up without asking and would take her back into the kitchen to show her off to the staff in the back. We did not mind one bit, and she loved it. When we returned to the states, you could almost see the confusion in her face once she realized that some people didn't pay any attention to her anymore.
Italians are known to drive like hell, and it was no different on the island. We were cruising along in our rented Renaut Clio, but we were passed by every single driver on the little two lane roads without fail. Even a nun in a Ciat (a knockoff Spanish Fiat, I'm told), passed us, backfiring for emphasis, on our way around a hairpin turn going over a mountain.
It was coldish and windy as hell, but it meant that we were the only tourists there. We were the only guests in one of the few hotels that were open. Everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) shuts down between 1 and 4 pm. Restaurants simply do not open until at least 8p for dinner, and if you accidentally show up a bit early you will be scolded and reminded that the staff need to eat first! Nearly all the food is local. We had some amazing seafood, including our first foray into sea urchin, and it was all caught that day. (In one case, it was caught that morning by the chef and his son.) We did not sample the infamous Sardinian worm cheese.
All in all, a truly spectacular way to begin our 'official' life together, and the adventure of it all was fitting for us. Bella bambina Nina, upon arriving back at home, completed her 14th flight, and already has more stamps in her passport at 6 months than I had in my first 20-something years. She is an *excellent* traveller, and we are still amazed at how well she handles the flights and the time changes. She wasn't the least bit fussy until the day after we returned, and then it was because she sprouted a new tooth.
Arrivederci!
I thought about making this trivial and offering clues as to where we finally tied the knot. Screw that. It's 6am and I have much to do today. But maybe some of you who claim to have to have geography in your wheelhouses can make it a personal test. In all the people that we have spoken to since eloping, one lonely little soul actually knew where we had been and to what country it belongs.
Sardinia.
It was beautiful and quaint...still very much 'old world' even if they have all the trappings of modern life. We were married in a medieval castle overlooking the sea in a small town called Castelsardo. It's Italian, but with a lot of French and Catalan influences, especially in the cooking. The food and wine were incredible. Every little hovel we passed had a few grape vines, and most also had their own cork trees too, as well as sheep and goats. The landscape of the northern interior of the island was almost indescribable. The people were very kind. As a rule, it seemed, Italians LOVE babies. It started at the Milan gate in the Newark airport: every last Italian we met just had to meet Nina. "Ciao bella! Belissima bambina!" They didn't hold back...perfect strangers would take her from our arms and kiss and cuddle her. Teenage boys would put down their drinks, walk out of the bar, to come see the baby strolling by on the street. The waiters routinely scooped her up without asking and would take her back into the kitchen to show her off to the staff in the back. We did not mind one bit, and she loved it. When we returned to the states, you could almost see the confusion in her face once she realized that some people didn't pay any attention to her anymore.
Italians are known to drive like hell, and it was no different on the island. We were cruising along in our rented Renaut Clio, but we were passed by every single driver on the little two lane roads without fail. Even a nun in a Ciat (a knockoff Spanish Fiat, I'm told), passed us, backfiring for emphasis, on our way around a hairpin turn going over a mountain.
It was coldish and windy as hell, but it meant that we were the only tourists there. We were the only guests in one of the few hotels that were open. Everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) shuts down between 1 and 4 pm. Restaurants simply do not open until at least 8p for dinner, and if you accidentally show up a bit early you will be scolded and reminded that the staff need to eat first! Nearly all the food is local. We had some amazing seafood, including our first foray into sea urchin, and it was all caught that day. (In one case, it was caught that morning by the chef and his son.) We did not sample the infamous Sardinian worm cheese.
All in all, a truly spectacular way to begin our 'official' life together, and the adventure of it all was fitting for us. Bella bambina Nina, upon arriving back at home, completed her 14th flight, and already has more stamps in her passport at 6 months than I had in my first 20-something years. She is an *excellent* traveller, and we are still amazed at how well she handles the flights and the time changes. She wasn't the least bit fussy until the day after we returned, and then it was because she sprouted a new tooth.
Arrivederci!
We're going to
