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Monday, September 1, 2008

Well, we are finally back in town. Deacon and I just returned from a 22-hour door-to-door adventure- returning from Barcelona in three buses, four airports, three planes, and a Lexus suv. Out trip was amazing of course, but we were ecstatic to return to the land of deodorant and sandwiches with more than 2-millimeters of ham. For the quick version,

Barcelona: Gaudi architecture has turned Deacon into a connoisseur- a freshly born architecture devotee. He is also learning to speak with a lisp.

Malta: Ahh. The smell of horse feces and human urine. Or perhaps the other way around. We spent two weeks on a bus that day but in the end had an amazing view at lunch. The only negative of lunch was remembering that we had to get back on the bus. I think it had square wheels and I spent the ride home sprawled out on an empty seat wishing for a peaceful death.

Naples: Skipped the 20euro cab ride and walked through the Naples streets to the archeology museum. Yes, we were that brazen. Such an amazing collection: Deacon got tired of me saying "Hey! I wrote a paper on that!!" Then off to Pompeii to show him where all of the stuff in the museum came from. Lots of "remember that thing in the museum? It used to go here." Ate lunch at my favorite restaurant on the outskirts of the Villa of the Mysteries where you can either have pasta or pizza but, oddly, NOT BOTH! After Deacon ordered pizza from one menu, my gnocci was quickly demoted to another pizza for some reason. And though the pizzas were excellent, both of us had to wring out the three cups of oil from them before we could eat. Otherwise our fork and knife would have needed snorkels.

Rome: Deacon has the amazing ability to show up at major tourist sites when everyone else is in the bathroom. Or watching street performers. Or eating gelato. I don't know how this happened but we walked into the Vatican museum with NO LINE. That, to me, was as awe-inspiring as the Sistine ceiling. Also, I taught Deacon how to cross the street in Rome: Wait for a group of nuns and cross behind them. It's like a nun-shield between you and the three vespas hoping to mow you over. More gelato here, though Deacon said that it tasted just like Pachuco at home. I almost stopped talking to him.

Florence: Again, Deacon's line avoidance gland took us through the Ufizzi AND the Academia with no problems. I had stressed out for weeks thinking that he would miss one or the other but we made it through both AND stopped in the Medici tombs as well. Lots more of the "I wrote a paper on that" moments but surprisingly, never once did I have to wheel Deacon out screaming. He took to the whole drowning-in-art thing very well. I am so happy that he was able to see all of the major places on his list.

Nice and Monte Carlo: We sat at a bar in Monte Carlo and drank 6euro cokes, toured the royal palace and Deacon had his first pay-toilet experience. I think he was underwhelmed.

Cruise ship: The cruise ship played more of a supporting role this trip since we would leave at 7:00am and return around 5pm and immediately fall comatose into bed. Thank goodness for the midnight cafe or neither of us would have ever eaten. We loved our room as our bed was always made or turned down and we saw our steward once the whole trip. Also, the tv had only two channels: CNN and FoxNews. The DNC aired just as we were waking up, around 3am, so we are very up-to-date on the McCain/Palin situation.

Both of us are ready to be back home. We welcome the return of mexican food, HOT soup, salt, free cokes and our spastic dog, Fonzie. We just hope that he hasn't picked up any bad habits from his aunts, Bonnie and Pixie. They are known for eating their own poo. I bet they would have loved Malta.

1 comment:

CBM said...

Having never left the continental United States, I can't relate to your experiences, but I sure love reading about them! Britt chuckled out loud several times. He gets it! He said he stood in line all of those places.

I think if I ever went to Europe I would starve after having suffered from painful IBS symptoms for the weeks preceding my miserable death. Not thinking there would be much room for enjoyment of European adventure in there. Maybe after I'm 35, when I might magically "outgrow" my ailments, or so my GI says...

And why am I telling you about that on your blog? Yeesh.

Glad you're back! We should meet up for ginormous sandwiches.