Plot Synopsis and trailer

So we've returned from eating our way through the countryside of northeastern Italy, and are none too happy about being back in grey rainy London. But, on the upside, I no longer have to use my thumbs to blog from my Blackberry, so I will resume the verbosity to which you have surely become accustomed, and describe in glowing detail all that we saw, heard, felt, and most importantly, ate. But not all at once. That would be too overwhelming. For me, anyway.

The seed for this trip was a Fodor's guide to Italy which Michele bought a few years ago. That seed germinated one day some months back when we were racking our brains to find something to do with the kids for Easter break.

A note about the school system here - although the school year runs through mid-July, there are a number of weeklong breaks, called half-terms, which occur at apparently random intervals during the school year. There must be some consistency, though, as all of the airlines and hotels know exactly when to raise their rates so as to coincide with these breaks. I suspect collusion between the local educational authorities and the travel industry.

The Easter break, which is two weeks long, started April 7. Those among you who are either Christians or who study the complexities of the lunar cycles which determine the actual date on which Easter occurs (if you fall into the latter category, I suggest you find a more interesting hobby; perhaps lint collecting would be the way forward), will note that the start of the Easter break date bears no discernable relationship to the actual date of its namesake, which occurred at the end of March. I don't know why it's called the Easter break, and I suspect no one else does, either.

Regardless, the Fodor's guide suggested an itinerary for foodies, a group of which I am most decidedly a member, and this got our attention. The rest seemed straightforward. We decided to stay in four places for three nights each and booked our flights accordingly. From the staggeringly aggressive whirlwind tour suggested by the Fodor's guide (apparently written for those with private helicopters, since you'd need about two weeks just to do the driving), we chose four towns. We started about 40km north of Venice in Treviso, then headed into the mountains to Trento, so far north that it's practically Austria (and was, once), then back south to fair Verona (fictional home of the Capulets and the Montagues) and finally into Venice.

Finding accommodation turned out to be a little tricky. While the first three towns are not exactly off the beaten path, most visitors to northern Italy stay in Milan or Venice, and day trip to the smaller areas like Treviso. And, as we'd be travelling with the kids (this trip was, after all, intended to keep them occupied during the school break), we needed to find places that were child friendly, with room for the kids to stretch their legs and for us to get away from them when needed. Plus, as we were going for 12 nights, cost was a factor. Hotels simply wouldn't work - we've stayed in hotels with the kids and besides being pricey, there's just not enough room in the room.

Once again, Google came to the rescue. "Bed and breakfast, children and Treviso" turned up a bunch of useful and interesting places, and so, our first nights booked and our general approach to finding accommodation solidified, our trip was on.

For the Treviso leg, we stayed in the village of Codogné, about 30 minutes drive from Treviso. I already described the villa and its owner, and our first night's dinner, which was tasty but testy as the children (and us) were well knackered from the journey. Note to self, cheap and easy is the way to go for the first night.

We were pleasantly surprised by how well the kids took to eating late. We ate at 8:00 the second night, and by the third night we were pushing Italians aside to get a table at 9:00. For kids who are accustomed to eating at 5 and being in bed at 7, their adaptation was remarkable, and you may well wonder how we accomplished this transformation. We took a three-pronged approach:
1. Feed them ice cream at 4:00.
2. Make them nap from 5:30-7:30.
3. Find something to occupy them for the duration of the meal.

As you might imagine, item 1 was easily accomplished in the country that invented (or at least perfected) ice cream. The naps came naturally enough, as we simply structured our day so that we'd be in the car for about an hour around naptime, allowing them to fall asleep. Transferring them into the house without waking them was tricky but we managed.

Finding something to keep them busy enough to allow us to enjoy a 2 hour dinner proved somewhat troublesome at first. The initial shine of paper and colored pencils faded quickly until, purely by chance, we found a mealtime entertainment that occupied them for the rest of the trip. On the second or third night, Caroline had drawn an American flag in her notebook. I asked whether they'd learned how to draw the UK flag in school. They hadn't, so I showed her. From then on, both Caroline's and Michael's net output of world flags would have made a Taiwanese factory manager's tiny little stone heart swell with admiration. Their hunger for flag designs was so acute that our own paltry flag knowledge was rapidly depleted.

It seemed that our budding distractionary measure would die an early death until I remembered the lifesaving device I always keep in my pocket - my Blackberry. In 30 seconds, a search for 'world flags' yielded tiny little images of all 170+ flags of the world, and from then on, the kids happily made flags morning, noon and night. You know, I really think this Internet thingy is more than a passing fad.

The children thus occupied, Michele and I turned our attention to more pressing matters - namely, what and where to eat. And wow, did we have some fantastic meals. In fact, every meal we had was memorable in some way. But my fingers are tired, so consider this a starter(a primo piatto, if you will) and I'll describe some of them next time. In the meantime, you can find some of my favorite photos and informative and entertaining commentary here.

Italy, Day 1

For all its woes, the journey to, the transit through, and the flight from Heathrow couldn't have been better. We were having bloody marys in the lounge less than 90 minutes after leaving home.  Well, at least I was. Michele needed to buy some good walking shoes. And a good thing she did, too, as we'll see later.

After the hustle and bustle of the world's busiest airport, Venice's Marco Polo seemed about as busy as the Scranton airport on a Sunday night in February. I had collected the bags before the kids were done with their post-arrival toilet. No trouble at the car rental, didn't even need those International Drivers Permits we agonized over getting (you can only get them in the US if you have a US license, which presents an obvious geographic challenge for us, since it's not like we can just pop over there).

Our first B+B, Villa Ariella in Codogne, north of Treviso, is lovely. It's a 18th century villa, and Patricia, the owner, was helpful and gracious. But as you might expect in a 300 year old house, it's pretty damn cold. The floor is marble tile, which is even damn colder. I think I have frostbite from it.

Last night's dinner was exceptionally tasty, but the kids were miserable. Well, mostly Caroline. She and I went to the grocery store instead of making her nap, which would have been a much better plan. We all ate apples and potato chips and parma ham from the store for a snack, thinking this would hold us until we could have a proper dinner. It didn't. We went to dinner at 7, which is about 2 hours too early by Italian standards, and were the only ones in the place. 

Though the food was fantastic (I had venison stew with a sauce that included, I found out later, juniper berries), the constant whinging from the direction of our children made me a little testy. Ok, more than a little.

The water pitchers seemed specifically designed to pour water everywhere but in the glass, so both Michele and I managed to drench the tablecoth on more than one occasion. As if this weren't embarassing enough, Michael insisted on saying 'poop' every third word, and Caroline nearly fell asleep in her chicken.

They slept well.

This morning, after breakfast, the kids did some exploring in the back garden. Had we not insisted that we go sample at least some of what this generous land has to offer, I think they'd still be out there crushing snail shells.

we piled into our rented Mercedes (actually more like a Ford Focus, but comfortable enough) and set the GPS for a town called Asolo. What a lovely little town and well worth all the whining we had to listen to on the way.

One downside of Asolo is that it's pretty much straight uphill from the car park. And not just any hill, mind you, a great, huge, chest pain-inducing medieval hill. No wonder life expectancies then were about 15 years.

And once you reach the pretty little town and have a great big lunch, it's another few hundred feet up to the castle on top of the hill above town. Totally worth it, though, as the view of the mountains and surrounding countryside from up there was just amazing. Or maybe it seemed so cool because of the hallucinations brought on by lack of oxygen to the brain. Can't be certain.

Michael had a good nap this afternoon, and Caroline had a little snooze in the car, so we're all set for a late dinner. My Italian is somewhat limited, so I may or may not have made reservations, possibly for 4 people woth 2 children, and maybe for 8 o'clock tonight. Or I may have insulted the mother of the man who answered the phone. Again, can't be certain.

Now, off to dinner. Ciao!

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