Practicalities on board

My mom said she would be interested to know what I am glad to have, and what I wish I brought with me.

I wish I brought my yoga mat.  It seemed too big and silly to bring, but I am unable to find a suitable substitute.  I am making due with a bamboo mat over  a towel or a rubber carpet gripper. Even if if find one,  I don’t know if it will be that awesome no slip eco tread stuff like my ‘Jade’ mat (even if it isn’t perfect).

I wish for all the world that I had a great handvac.  One that plugs into US plugs and runs on 110 volts.  And had lots of accessories for getting into the cracks and crevices.  The boat gets dirty, even at sea, where there is no dirt.  

I wish we had more Kraft dinner for the kids.  I am glad to see them try new foods, but nothing seems to beat KD when they are really homesick.

I am glad I had the foresight to stock up on bathing suits from Value Village.  I have 7-8 and often wish I had more.  I live in them and they are my ‘wardrobe’.   I am also glad that I have lots of shoes.  Code may never understand, but there is a use for each pair, and I would consider 5 pairs (two pairs of thong sandles – which can be dressed up or down, a pair of J41 Mary Janes, a pair of Keens, and running shoes) to be the absolute minimum.  I haven’t really needed more, although there is always room (and a purpose) for more.

I am glad that I brought my basic usual cosmetics.  Just smelling like a nice Aveda product or Trader Joes Lavender Body Oil lifts my spirit.

I am happy that I outfitted the galley with ‘real’ (Corelle) dishes and that I have a real ceramic mug.  Plastic would have felt like we were camping or just making due.

I don’t need my hairdryer.  I brought our tennis racquets because they are relatively small and there is always a place to play, or so I thought.  I may be happy to have them later.

I am glad I learned to do needlepoint and I work on it a lot.  I am almost finished with my Blue Coral piece.  We estimated that there are about 22,500 stitches in that one piece.  I am worried that I should have used the basketweave (I think that is the one) rather than continental, but it is what it is).

I wonder weather we really needed to bring our scuba tanks.  It seemed like an obvious thing to bring, but so far, snorkeling has been more than sufficient. 

We threw out the microwave.  It was pre-installed on the boat, but we never used it.  Now the valuable space is an appliance garage and general storage.   It was great fun to throw the useless thing overboard 75 miles out at sea.  It didn’t work anyway.

I grateful that I brought my kitchenaid hand blender.  When we have ice (purchased at a marina) we fire up the generator and have frozen slushies.  I probably wrote about this before, but it is just heaven on a hot day, and we really feel like we are getting away with something miraculous.  I brought my hand mixer, on the otherhand, which is just taking up space.  I thought it might come in handy for baking.  In theory, I would be baking, but propane is such a premium that I hesitate to fire up the oven.  Besides, baked goods are far better from the ubiquitous patisseries and I cant figure out how to say ‘baking soda’ in Italian.

I wish we had maple syrup.  I should have packed more.  I packed too much jam.  Was I fearful Europeans may not have any? Peanut butter can be found here.  And I wish Code never bought a case of those Vienna sausages.  No one likes them, but he refuses to throw them out (or eat them).  They scare me.

I am glad that I purchased my spear gun for fishing (hmmmm, I just had a good idea for fish chum).   It has been my best purchase so far. 

I am shopping far less than I thought.  The speargun, my purse, and some things for the boys (a T-shirt each and some plastic army jets).  Before we left, Code bought me a white Helly Hansen foul-weather jacket.  It is awesome… it is windproof, waterproof, and immensely practical, not to mention that it is cool-looking and very hip among the boaty crowd. 

I wish I brought more of my cookbooks.  I have my little recipe notebook, which has some of favorites.  I also remember why I wrote down the Toll House cookie recipe in it.  It seemed so dopey to see it in there when I was in the states and I couldn’t figure out what possessed me to write it down, since every bag of Nestle chocolate chips always has the recipe on the bag. Now, it makes sense.  I first purchased that recipe book for my university semester abroad so I could bring my favorite recipes.  What a smart cookie I was!

Also, thanks mom for ‘lending me’ your Europe 101 book from your trip to Italy in the mid-80’s.  I don’t know if you know that you lent it to me.  Fortunately history does not change much (except they do make a reference to a weird new disease that has affected 140 gay men in San Francisco) and that book has been a wealth of knowledge for your daughter who apparently slept through most of high school history.  I promise, I will return it.

I really regret not bringing more books for the kids.  I thought they would read ‘on-line’ or we would find books here.   Big mistake.

Simple things I want to remember about Italy, before I forget

These are just simple notes about what I experienced in this beautiful country so far.  I want to hold on to the sights and smells as long as I can.

The towns smell of woodfire.  At first, it didnt register,as it reminded me of our trip to Thailand where they use woodfire when doing laundry (as an aside, don’t send your stuff to the laundry in the small towns of Thailand…unless you like smelling like you are smoked).  Or,maybe I simply did not notice as it was just another foreign smell.  Regardless, the smell of woodfires come and go during the day, and oddly, can be found in the city.  Even more so than in the countryside, where one might expect to find a fire.  Yet, they didn’t smell like campfire, either.  The smell was cleaner than a campfire smell, not burning paper, not burning leaves….just burning wood.  Finally, the 'ah ha' moment.  Pizza.  Pizza baked in wood ovens.   Many restaurants (at least the ones that make pizza) have a wood oven that they fire up during the day.

Yes, we have ‘wood-fired ovens’ back in the states in upscale pizzarias. They get the idea, but they do not quite get it right.  First, the wood-fired ovens are used in the pizzeria for the everyday man.  Nothing upscale or special about it, rather, they are the one that you’ll find on the corner selling pizza for 1 Euro a slice, or for the ones with all the toppings (imagine eggplant with dried red pepper and olive oil, or potato with sausage and rosemary, mushroom  with a little cheese,  artichoke and proscuitto-sometimes with cheese, or shredded zuchhini with ham, or firey pepperoni and veggies, or simple ‘margharita’ (cheese and red sauce)—just everyday Italian food).  The toppings are amazing, but the wood-fire gives a subtle but clearly smokey taste to it all.  Now I get it.

The men and women that we see on the bus or in the shops.  Italians seem to be of especially hardy stock.  Men and women, clearly into their 80s and older schlep to the food markets (you don’t see them in the grocery store) – rather the Polloteria, Carneteria, Paneteria, and Fruittiterias (chicken, meat and bread stores and the fruit/veggie stands.  They greet their friends (there is enough to choose from that I am sure you don’t have to shop at a stand run by someone you don’t like…but I imagine there are politics in where you shop that we are not aware of).  They go to the watchmaker to get their watch fixed, but to a jeweler to buy their jewelry.  Household cleaning stuff comes from a household cleaning stuff store.  It a way, maybe it IS like a giant Wallmart as all these things are found next door to eachother.  The only difference is the different shopowners live right upstairs.  All in all, these are folks who had their homes reduced to rubble in WWII.  I wish I could speak italian so I could understand what that must have been like, yet here they are buying grocieries and sitting on the bus right next to me. They have history written across the lines in their faces.  The stories they could tell.

When  you are near the markets and you see the Italians rush to line up for something…get line quickly.  We learned this when, at 4 pm folks started gathering around a shop which was locked up tight but smelled of baked bread and slightly burned sugar.   When the window was opened, people all but pushed and shoved each other to the front of the line for fresh hot pasties.  Croissants (filled with Nutella, if you like), spanufiellatias (I am half-making that word up, but they are phyllo pastries that look like perfect clam shells…ridges and all) filled with sweet fresh ricotta, and loads of other things that we did not get the opportunity to sample.  It struck me that all ages of folks lined up at the window like kids pushing to the front of the line for the ice cream truck. 

Other things…the same group of men (maybe in their 70’s) go out every morning to catch a fish in the harbor.  They row slowly around in wide circles in the hot morning sun, wearing shorts and a fedora, trailing a bit of line.  I never saw them catch anything, but I am not sure if that mattered.

The population is older here.  Italians don’t marry until their early 30’s for women and late 30’s for men.  Their 20’s are reserved for being beautiful (as they all seem to be) and living the good life.  I wish to be a 20 year old Italian.   Life gets harder once they get serious and grow up.  We chatted with a man in his mid-40’s on the 1 ½ hour train ride from Rome to Formia.  He was on his commute home from Rome and was looking forward to seeing his wife and 3 kids (ages 3 and 6 months) after a long day(3+ hours of commute, 7 hours of work).   In addition to Italian, he spoke German, French, and English.  We thought it must be a pretty specialized job to commute to Rome everyday.  Must have been a lawyer, a businessman, an investment banker, or maybe a professor at the university?  Nope, he was a waiter.  No one can afford to live closer in to the city, and working in a smaller local restaurant is not reliable as you can be fired at the whim of the owner (they are family run). 

As an aside, this guy was your typical good looking Italian (if were a man writing, I would gush about the women).  Tall, dark, and yes, handsome.  Long wavy hair, strong features, lean, tan, and muscular.  I am not sure if Code noticed…but I sure did.  Enough about that.  As many of his friends and peers, he has not travelled to the US (not too surprising…about the same as the number of Americans who travel abroad), but what surprised me was that the only other country he visited was France.  Wouldn’t you think, given the proximity, all Europeans would travel extensively?  Similarly, we met a woman in Menorca who had never been off the island (although she spoke English, Italian, and German…and she was also in her 40s.

I expected to see lush vineyards, but Rome and this area is much more arid.  Even though it is the dead summer, it really is hot here.  The cities show that they haven’t seen rain for months, things are getting sooty and tired.  I imagine that when the rains come, the dirt will wash away and refresh and the streets and infrastructure.  I wish we were here to see that, as I imagine it is beautiful.  However, in the cool narrow alleyways (that are sometimes also streets) it stays cool.  Moss, and sometimes flowers, grows on the overhead archways, which always seem cool and smell damp.  Satellite dishes perch on top of the buidings each dangling a cable to its respective TV.  Flowers bloom in window boxes adjacent to the laundry which is hung out to dry, one apartment over another.  People sit outside in the alley on their folding aluminum lawnchairs, gossiping, selling figs or tomatoes, or just waiting for their neighbor to stop by. 

It astounds me that this infrastructure, hundreds if not thousands of years old, continues to move forward first incorporating modern plumbing, electricity, telephone, cable, and internet.  In Naples, they say, they have no idea where many of the sewer pipes are…they work, and that is good enough.

Final aside is to say a quick hello to ‘Aunt Honey’ and her friends. I remember  you said she has done and seen a lot of things in your life.  If you have seen Italy, I hope this refreshes your memory as I am afraid that these are the small details that my memory will overlook once we leave.   If not, I hope you simply enjoyed what I have to share.

Living simply, simply living.

It is interesting to note the fish story (below).  Havent caught anything, and probably will not have a chance to go out 'hunting' again until after we leave Gaeta (between Rome and Naples).  

In 'real life', that is, in our house with our careers, school, cars, and the like, we dont have the opportunity to live very simply.  I never thought I would have the chance,and wasnt really sure what it meant, except less TV, less shopping, acquiring less.  So far, living simply does involve those ideas.  But it also involves things like the importance of water. I have not had a real shower in a real marina since Majorca (sometime in mid to late July...it is freaking August 15.  I am squeeky clean... I take showers by lathering up with salt water after a swim and rinsing with a gallon or less of fresh water from our water tanks on the boat.  It is nice...the water is (almost always) warm, if not hot.  I am as naked on the back of the boat (usually), and I dont care if is in a crowded anchorage or not...it is like a shower at the gym, totally unsexy.  

Living simply is noticing how nice land is. Solid land where you can run around...even just walk as much as you want. Grass is a treat, even for the kids.  When we see it, we all rush to take off our shoes and feel it. 

We live with more salt and dirt than we are accustomed to. Sometimes I hate it.  While we are in Gaeta, I am going to find a Lavenderia (laundrymat) no matter what it takes, or what it costs, and wash our sheets, towels, clothing...everything in a machine.  With fabric softener.  It is unspeakable luxury that sends me over the edge.

We have not made a cell phone call or watched TV in 2 months.  I have not driven a car.  I have read 5 fat books (more had I not been working).  Code is reading my Chick books.  The kids have learned to push past bored, and today, on their own initiative, they decided to clean, organize, and decorate their room.  They didnt want to rush through it, because they wanted to enjoy it. They worked in there for hours (a V-berth, double bed with a single storage locker and 2 shelves.  No floor space except a small spot to stand. They were so happy with their work in a way I dont see at home.

My hair.  I learned that I dont need a cut or anything in the way of styling.  Clean hair, sun, and seawater create long blondish curls. Graemes hair is even more of the same.  The Europeans LOVE his long hair, and he is now loving the attention.  I gush.

Cooking with fire even is a big deal. By fire, I mean propane, which is hard to find here.  No sooner is the stove on and the water boiling do I flick off the switch to make sure I dont waste precious fuel.  So unlike home.  

Simply finding a store clerk who speaks English (we hate that we are not fluent in any language, but grateful that we can get by in French and Spanish).  In Italy, we're really struggling, but Code seems to love studying other languages and he is quite talented in it.  He always surprizes me.

We are not deprived, but we are just more aware.   Groceries, like laundry, is a family affair and an event.  We buy a bag of ice once or twice a week, just for fun, and make granitas (slushies) of all kinds.  Passionfruit or cassis?  How about both?  I like just peach or lemon.  It is great fun to have our granitas in the middle of a passage, with the sun beating down and totally off the grid, unconnected.  Of course, we fire up the generator to power my blender, I pull out a chunk of our ice that we shlepped to the boat sometimes days earlier...and it is simple luxury.  

Ice, water, showers, clean, food,good solid land, hearing English spoken (or not).  My god, how we take these things for granted.  I love my discovery of these things, and I am grateful for that.  On top of that gratitude are the over-the-top experiences we are having.  The swimming.  The culture. The food (oh yes...) History.  Geography. The gelato...  

We still enjoy pretty Lux things and have our 'high on Mazlov's pyramid' wants and needs.  I guess the biggest treat of all is to learn that the simplest things of all are truely the most precious.

My Great Ponza Scheme

Had we had internet while we were in Ponza for the last 2 days I would have surely sent out a mass email asking for your investment dollars so that I could have worked out a way to disappear there permanently. With no forwarding address.

Ponza is the largest of the Pontine Islands, an volcanic culvert about 30 miles off the west coast of Italy.  If I had to choose between these islands or Sardinia, it would be a tough call.  Clarity of blue water:  same.  Water temp: Ponza may have been a few degrees warmer.  Food:  Pizza equally delicious, though Ponza's old-world every-day on the street, with the pizza oven tended by old guys who have probably been making pizza since they could say mozzerella...oh, and the oven? built into a cave wall.  You cant compete with that.  The thing that really made Ponza stand out was the grottos (the sea caves).  The caves are just a part of life in Ponza.  they dot the island and are more than landscape there...they are part of the infrastructure.  A garage?  Cave.  Cute little boutiques.  Caves.  Even the caves had caves.  The main thouroughfare went through a sooty, fumey natural tunnel, about 20 meters long.  Halfway through either the ocean or someone had the sense to cut a hole in the side of the tunnel so that you can see out over the ocean.  As you pass that, squarely about the midpoint of the tunnel was the Tunnel Discotech.  It was,of course, another little cave, lest a cave go to waste.  Just in case you needed to pull over at midnight and dance.

Other than their part in city planning, the caves are also out of 'town' and dot the shoreline.  Along the water, we explored some cares big enough to drive a small boat into (much bigger than our little dinghy).  Others you swim into and swim through (natural arches under the water...beautiful swimming.  Some are further opened and defined by humans over the years for boathouses, fish grottos, probably military use, and maybe just to attract tourists.  They were sometimes connected by a network of manmade and natural tunnels. 

Graeme at first thought the caves were cool, until he, Aethan, and I walked through a larger one (none were big enough to get lost in or go very deep).  He freaked out about the sounds of the water making that ga-whop sound against the walls of the cave, which amplified and echoed.  There were dark crevasses, usually filled wiht water, and just the caveyness of it spooked him. But Aethan and I loved the natural windows that opened out to the sea below or looking through a tunnel (but no discotech) into the next room.  It was like we were running though someones house that was filled with crystal blue water and light.

I learned the mystery of why seafood is so expensive, and I found a solution.  The paucity of fish is related to why the water is so blue:  it is the lack of plankton, which, apparently it has something to do with the lack of perceptible tide in the Med, which limits tidal 'life', and all goes back to the plankton.  It doesnt take a marine biologist to know that limited plankton = few little fishies; few little fishies = few big fishies.  It is nothing new, the Romans used to moan about the poor fishing, too.  Fish is 10- 30 Euros/kilo (or about $8 - 20/pound) for a fish - and I mean the fish, not the neat little fillets wrapped in plastic. And you dont want to eat that $8 fish...we're talking sardines and mackeral here.   The solution?  My new speargun.  I used it today, in fact.  I took down a marlin just before breakfast (just kidding, I dinged a bottom feeder), but I am just getting a feel for it.  I cannot wait to provide for my family in the most simple terms.  

Buon Giorno, Pedro. Como ca va?

Hell, I am getting my languages totally mixed up.  Not that I am fluent in any, but the pigeon bits I know are all melding together like the Euro.

Still in Sardinia. Both Sardinia and  Corsica are rugged, mountainous, hot.  We are happy to no longer have siesta to contend with.  We finally purchased an Internet connection, which was our undoing in Spain.  We think now that we have wifi with us on the boat, we will get a chance to research what we're about to see rather than wildly guessing (like the fact that the caves that we saw on Menorca were not neolithic homes, but they were actually burial grounds...doh!).  Still, a cave-man cave is a cave-man cave, and they were interesting whether we were in the know or not.

Kids are out swimming now.  Graeme has become a great little snorkler (no life jacket...just fins, mask, snorkel and he is off chasing fishes...and Aethan just jumps in the water and comes back only when he is either hungry or cold. It is pretty cool to see them both out in the water exploring.   I am pretty much the same, too! We have our scuba gear with us, but I almost prefer to snorkel since it is so easy.   We are actually in a National Marine park called Archipellago of La Maddalena- a set of islands that also include a section of southern Corsica.  Water is quite clear (50' visibility), nice fishes, warm (but not bathtub warm) water.  

We also bought a new length of 150' chain for our anchor...we needed a new part for our windlass (the thingy that lifts the anchor) and also needed more chain length (had only 50')...as it happens, euro chain is 2 mm smaller than american chain.  $1000 later, we are all set.  Funny, a $1,000 chain and it isnt even gold.