#cousinbrady

[swcolaner]

Day 28, Part 2A: Just Horsin’ Around* Mom, Dad, and #CousinBrady were still in town, so we rendezvoused in the afternoon for the #Palio trials. The Palio is a horse race that dates back hundreds of years in Siena. It is a Big Deal around here. Twice per year, 10 of the 17 contrade in Siena get to race horses. Winner gets a banner and mega bragging rights. But that’s like saying the Crypts and the Bloods race horses for bragging rights; it’s hard to overstate what a big deal the Palio is to these people. #ContradaIsLife They build a dirt track around the whole #PiazzaDelCampo. That is to say, they truck in all the dirt and pack in down, and it stays there for like a month. Meanwhile, the area gets all the same heavy foot traffic it usually does. It’s...crazy. Anyway. They run the Palio trials to select the pool of horses that will run in the actual race. And we got to watch. (Later, they’ll choose which contrade get to race this time around, and which jockey they get, and which horse each respective jockey will ride.) I was a few minutes late, and they closed the gates, so I couldn’t get in. I figured one of the many openings in the walls around the Campo would be open, and I was right. I found a Viccolo that hadn’t been closed off, and I squished and shimmied my way to the front. Success! And many photos! The trials aren’t intense compared to the real Palio. But it’s still horses thundering around a track just a few feet in front of you, and jockeys still get tossed a lot around turn two, in front of the grocery store we go to every morning. Can’t wait for the real thing... *Wow! After 1,000 years, I’m the first person to use that pun in regard to the Palio trials! #andiamocolaneri (at Siena, Italy)

[swcolaner]

Still Day 24. Ooh, that contrada parade. The girls and I were about to pop into the flat, I think, when they marched by. We climbed the steps of the church right out in front of our place to watch. All 17 contrade play the same drum beat when they march. And it’s a simple drum beat, with triplets littering eight beats in 4/4 time. Ta, ta-ta-ta ta, ta-ta-ta ta, ta-ta-ta ta-ta-ta ta-ta-ta (x 1,000,000,000) And they march for hours. *HOURS*. Hours and hours. The whole day. They stomp from their own contrada to all the others over the course of it. And all 17 contrade do this same thing, in turn. You can hear the drums coming from a mile (err, kilometer) away, because this whole city is made of stone, and it reverberates. It’s a lot of drumming. This morning, one of the parades walked under my window and woke me up. Instead of walking past, though, they stopped. Under my window. And drummed and drummed. Ta, ta-ta-ta ta, ta-ta-ta ta, ta-ta-ta ta-ta-ta ta-ta-ta (x 946) Also, I had creme broulee at dinner, inspired by #CousinBrady ‘s quest to eat tiramisu as many times as possible while on this continent. But I panicked and blew out the flame too early. Oopsie. And then, some goofery on the Campo on the way back to our flat. Time stamp on the photo tells me this was 10:17pm, so our excellent parenting is on full display. #andiamocolaneri (at Siena, Italy)

[swcolaner]

Day 23, Part 1: Cold & Chillin' in Campobasso Ah, Campobasso. Although its old parts and newer parts blend together in a much more pronounced way than they do in Siena, it’s retained its tremendous charm. It’s a mountain town that’s mostly in a valley (that’s what the name means, I’m told). It’s also where the Colaneri came from before they emigrated to the U.S. just over 100 years ago. That isn’t a long time, but my great-great grandparents and I are from different planets, it seems. We found a church where our recent ancestors may have worshipped. This was also the location where my children began to unravel. They were exhausted from the previous day, so...yeah, little ones, let it all out. They determined that they were both cold--COLD! In the summer in the south of Italy. #CousinBrady and I scrambled to find them...something. We dashed to a United Colors of Benetton, trying to beat closing time (which was 1pm). We made it by a couple of minutes. After scampering around the racks for a minute or two, a nice lady helped us (in an attempt to get us out of her store already). She spoke no English, but we used baby words and helpful gestures to communicate. She got it: girls, sweatshirts, ages 8 and 4. Here, and here, and here. Boom. Nailed it. Now warmly clothed, we were all ready for some adventuring. I took the crew up to the old part of the city to show them where we were supposed to stay the previous night, & we ended up climbing up & down & around the mazes of old steps. We finally happened upon a restaurant tucked away among the homes. This was among my favorite meals on this whole trip. It was a genuine Italian restaurant, and not for tourists. There were no English translations of anything on the menu, and none of the staff spoke any English. We weren’t exactly sure what we were ordering, but we asked for...some kind of antipasti...and what came out was multiple courses of deliciousness. Giant tray after giant tray of meats and cheeses and vegetables and concoctions thereof, topped off by a slab of sliced steak that Dad grilled a piece at a time on the little BBQ thing they brought out. Delicious. Satisfying. Gluttonous. #andiamocolaneri (at Campobasso, Italy)

[swcolaner]

Napoli, phase 2. After the underground city (so so so worth your time and money, pay the extra euro for the guided tour), we grabbed gelato. Did you know they make a limoncello flavor? Limoncello is one of the, like, two cocktails you can find anywhere in Italy. (What's up with that, Italy?) So you get a little booze with your gelato. That's me eating booze gelato with #Pulcinella. Then we browsed what I can only describe as #XmasStreet. It's stall after stall of Christmas ornaments and nativity scenes and other miniatures, and painted tambourines, and lots and lots of tiny things. Camille asked for and received one of the tambourines, and then played it and improvised a song because that is how she is wired. Then we saw #VeiledChrist. It's as amazing as you could imagine, in a smallish church full of equally astonishing feats of artistry. Also there are two dead bodies downstairs. Don't miss 'em! Next, a trek to the (consensus?) world's first pizzeria! I kind of expected a historical-looking thing that no longer served food. Nope! It's just a pizza place. Guess there had to be a first one. But it serves food, so we ate there. The spaghetti frutta di mare was delish. #EssieHerself got brave and ordered fresh pineapple on the side. Camille woke up from a nap and cried while she sat on my lap and I fed her plain spaghetti. Can't win 'em all. Also, we actually sat outside and down the street from the actual restaurant, which was virtually empty, I discovered. (Shrugs.) On the way back to our flat, we got Nutella and Kinder crepes, and the kids got to watch the guy make them on the street. The looks on their faces--desire and longing--would be perfect on a church fresco somewhere. #CousinBrady is watching the crepe-making, kinda, and being a liiiittle too cool, but mostly just sleepy. It is *weird* how much he looks like his dad. It's like having @n_colanero there, but via a time machine that also makes people nicer and more helpful (No offense, big bro, I just like your kid better. He hasn't punched me even once! #youngerbrothers ) (at Naples, Italy)