Snow Day

A few snaps of our garden the day after that fateful storm on February 1 that wiped out my satellite connection beaming in the Super Bowl. By London standards, this was the "big one". Jenny, Brooks, and Andrew came over for fun in the snow. This allowed Tracy to stay inside with a certain little princess and prince, who complained it was too cold to go outside.

Sculpturepalooza

What the hey. I was toying around with my new camera through much of Rome and took a gzillion shots of sculptures around town. These are a few of of my favorites. The baby angel was from St. Peter's Basilica, truly one of the most spectacular man-made sites I've ever encountered. The fact that I took about 100 photos of it inside and none came close to capturing its grandeur or beauty lets me know I've got a very long row to hoe in becoming a competent photog.

More Rome

Some more snapshots from day two of my trip to Rome. The first snap is an absolute no-no: the roof of the Sistene Chapel, which your intrepid photog captured surreptitiously while his fellow dumb-a** tourists were holding their cameras straight above their heads in front of the guards. The second is a statue of an angel from my (now) favorite Roman bridge, Ponte Sant'Angelo, a lovely little expanse over the Tiber connecting the area below Vatican City to the old city of Rome. Then the Colloseum, the Forum, and the Trevi Fountain. All (but one) obvious spots, but it's like saying going to see Chelsea, Man U, Liverpool, and Arsenal play football is too "obvious". Sometimes you have to stick with the A-list.

Roman Holiday

Back in January, I took the opportunity to head down to Rome for a couple days. I had only been there once before (in 1992, as a poor post-graduate) and didn't realize until now what I've been missing. It's an unbelievable town on different levels. There's the obvious stuff: see the pics above and in the next post. I spent much of the first day in and around Vatican City. I got lucky in finding an English tour guide to take me and some others around; while I typically like to do my own thing, there's just too much history and nuance there to go unguided (without missing much of what's interesting). Small piece of trivia - in the third picture, the third window from the right on the top floor is the Pope's bedroom. The guide's detail on the Popes, the history, Michaelango, etc. made it all come alive.

But then there's also the living city of Rome, with its markets, small streets and neighborhoods, wonderful little fountains and artistic/architectural gems. I especially enjoyed the old city near and just to the west of Piazza Navonna. It reminded me of an Italian "Left Bank" with its boutiques, cafes, fantastic people watching, and ample opportunity to get lost. Which I did for hours. Indeed, much of my two days in Rome were spent walking around town. I stayed west of the train station (quite a ways from the main tourist attractions) in a clean little dump of a hotel and on day one walked from there to the Spanish steps (first picture) all the way to the Vatican and then back. It was a haul, but I was wonderfully exhausted by the end of the evening. Before retiring, I managed to find a small restraurant recommended by my tour book. I arrived at 7:50pm (in the pouring rain) only to find they didn't open for 10 more minutes, but the owner/chef let me in early (I think I looked like one of those dalmations in that kids' movie), gave me a small corner table and then chatted with me for a long while about the menu. I ordered everything he recommended and was very pleased. I did skip dessert there as a friend had recommended a gelati spot in the same part of town he swore was Rome's best; it lived up to the hype (picture 2 is not that place but one of many gelateri/espresso bars I bopped to and fro throughout the day).

I wish we had more time in Europe. I'd love to take Tracy back to Rome. With the strolling, food, people watching, shopping, and history, it's our kind of town. But, hey - Topo Gigio on Wells Street. We still love you....

Montagnes del Fuego

A few minutes up the road from the camel ride was the volcano national park. It featured a stunning, barren landscape. At the top of the drive was a restaurant where we decided to dine - its top feature was both chicken and seafood grilled over the heat emitted by the still-radiant volcano. No lava - but lots of heat. The chicken was actually quite tasty. The heat also allowed for some other minor spectacles, such as fire coming out of the mountain and geysers-on-demand. A pail of water poured into small holes was flash-boiled and the steam spewed into the air.

Camels

One could concoct a fabulous tale of piety and devotion wherein the Portnoys were so dedicated to recreating a realistic recounting of the Passover story that we went into the desert to experience the journey of our forefathers. Yeah, sure. Camel riding is one of the only tourist attractions in Lanzarote and we were game.

The island has a desert climate, plus it's home to a now-dormant volcano that 200-300 years ago that took its toll on the surroundings, making for a spectacular landscape of bare, desiccated mountains and fields of black jagged volcanic rock. To see it all, one day we rented a car and drove up to the national park (Spain's most visited, we read), one section of which had camel rides. We thought the boys might balk over mounting these stinky beasts, but they actually didn't hesitate. Sarah, as she so often does, went along for the ride with no complaint despite the intense gusts of wind. The ride was bumpy but fun (and thankfully brief). It's now the source of some pretty fun "tall tales" between the boys and me over who rode the coolest camel. I say my camel Samel trumped their Luigi, but they beg to differ.

Chirp - I mean, Woof!

We just returned home from a wonderful weeklong trip to the Canary Islands, a straight 4 hour flight south from London. It's a few small islands off the western coast of Africa, right near the countries of Morocco and Western Sahara.

One would think that these islands would be mobbed by little yellow canaries, but think again. Somehow the Romans stumbled across these bumps a long time ago where they either found a lot of dogs or had a lot of dogs with them (I really can't recall), leading them to them to name this tiny archipeligo after the abundant Canis or Canaris, hence the Canary Islands. I also read recently that Portuguese explorers - Vasco de Gama in particular - used these islands as an easy stopping point on their way down south to go around the horn of Africa. Nowadays, the islands are owned by Spain, so it's an EU country with the Euro, running clean water, paella, and other little niceties.

One of the best things about the Canaries (and our particular destination of the island of Lanzarote) is that there is actually no interesting history or culture to speak of, making the excursion to this sun-dappled destination nothing but a chance to sit by the pool or ocean and relax. Which we did. The kids had a fantastic time and it was all-around one of our best family vacations. We stayed at the Jameos de Playa, a nice resort at the western edge of the town of Puerto del Carmen. Our room was lovely and had a great western-facing view of the ocean. The big pool was perfect for little kids, the buffet food ranged from passable to quite good, and the back door to the resort opened up to a long beachfront promenade of shops and restaurants. There was a small playground and "kids' club" with crafts and toys, and every night at 8pm was a kids' disco, where Sarah shaked her little booty every night (the grump brothers stayed on the sidelines and watched). The only knock on these islands is that they can be very breezy; on a couple days it was windy enough to make pool lounging a bit uncomfortable, but with mini-golf, camel rides and volcanos (post forthcoming), and fully-charged Nintendo DS's, we had no troubles muddling through.

WTF?

I guess I can blame it on Facebook, where I've been spending way too much time. But really no excuses for orphaning my baby. About to upload a bunch of pics from various trips. The good news for PUKA faithfuls is that you haven't missed much in the past couple months - life has been pretty calm, uneventful. Oh, except for the fact that we're moving back to Chicago in June, we bought a new house in Chicago (sort of...the process on that is underway), the boys have gone through a crazy schools application process, plus we've taken some more pretty cool trips in Europe. But other than that, not much doing! Away we go....

Orange Shirt

The whole family was in attendance at kickboxing to see Ben awarded his orange shirt, signifying his next level of achievement! Way to go, kiddo. We're very proud of you.

Windsor Castle

The British royal family has lived at Windsor Castle for a really, really long time. It's about 30 minutes west of London and we maybe spent as much time there as the round trip ride. I don't know what else to say about the place.

Sarah (con't.)

Gridiron & Gridlock

The Steelers won.

They beat Arizona 27-23 in a Super Bowl that many already consider a classic. The last few minutes of the game, when Pittsburgh squandered a sizable lead and was forced to drive the length of the field with little time, were just about the most intense I've ever experienced as a sports fan. I'll admit that when the game ended at about 3:15am London time, I felt more relieved than happy. I was spent, and not only because my team tortured me before delivering rapture but for more earthly reasons as well. The story from the evening that I care not to recount in much detail is that as a result of London having its worst snow storm in about two decades, my satellite receiver lost its signal and the TV went dark. During the Super Bowl. With the Pittsburgh Steelers. In the middle of the night in London. Sitting by myself. I missed seeing much of the second and third quarters and instead listened to BBC radio coverage (it's even worse than it sounds) and "watched" ESPN Gamecast (exactly as bad as it sounds, as it's about as stimulating as watching a game of Stratego) until a guardian angel in Detroit sent the url to salvation, a fee-based international website with streaming video of the game. I saw the fourth quarter. I saw Fitz (twice), the safety, the drive, The Catch, and the fumble. I saw Pittsburgh win its 6th Super Bowl.

But back to that persnickety London storm for a moment. Somehow the city that survived a massive carpetbombing by Germans can't seem to function with 6 inches of snow on the ground. Granted, this was a real storm in a place "blessed" by a moderate climate despite its longitude (thank you, Gulf Stream) and not used to heavy dustings. Still, come on people. Greater London was in complete and utter gridlock. Buses weren't operating, the Tube and trains had almost no service, Heathrow ground to a halt. The boys' schools were canceled (as they are tomorrow despite there being no new snow and clear roadways). Almost no one went to work, including me, as there was literally no way to get there. This was the level of storm that Chicagoans might notice but would prevent no one (and I mean no one) from going to work or school.

I'll admit it all was mildly amusing for one day when I could be quite productive from home. How could we not chuckle to learn that a wealthy city of 12 million people in northern Europe doesn't own a single snow plow. I have this sneaking suspicion, though, that today's hassles aren't the end of this tale.

Steeler Nation

The Steelers play the Arizona Cardinals in Super Bowl 43 tonight. It's the team's 7th trip to the big game and a win tonight - which would be our 6th, aka "one for the other thumb" - would cement us as the most successful NFL franchise of all time.

Even sitting here in London, it's easy to find countless analyses of the game, whether it be Larry Fitzgerald vs. the Steelers secondary, Big Ben's attempt at redemption after a lousy Super Bowl 40, Ken Wisenhunt's opportunity to exact revenge on the team that passed him up for head coach, and so on and on.

But in all the media blitz what has caught my eye is a couple human interest stories about the Steelers, its history and traditions. The first is on Dan Rooney, the son of team founder Art Rooney, and current patriarch of the organization. It's a wonderful piece about a classy guy from classy family who has managed to achieve great success in a hyper-competitive industry while still remaining virtuous. The second is on the Terrible Towel, the yellow dishcloth that 34 years ago Pittsburgh media personality Myron Cope "invented." That towel is now one of the most recognized pieces of sports regalia and will be prominent throughout the stands of Tampa tonight. The backstory from this piece is Myron's son is severely retarded and has been institutionalized much of his life. Before Cope passed away last year, he had left the trademark and royalty rights to this lucrative item to the network of group homes where his son has lived and prospered. Even during the best of economic times (and certainly now), one can imagine how such funds can help this sort of worthy organization.

As Steeler fans know and mostly all sports fans appreciate, there is indeed a "Steeler Nation" that stretches from coast to coast and beyond. Steeler fandom approaches the status of a civic tradition in western Pennsylvania. It is inextricably woven into the fabric of that culture; it is a passion. Steeler fans are legendary for the extent to which they will travel to the team's away games, especially the big ones. Indeed, the Super Bowl in Detroit three years ago was so overrun by the black and gold faithful that by all accounts it was about as close to a home game as one could ever have in that sort of venue.

Attending Steelers games at the old Three Rivers is one of my fondest childhood memories and being a Steelers fan is a central piece of my identity. It honestly feels like a privelege to be associated with the organization and to revel in its success. For it is true that few franchises in any sports have been able to sustain such a consistent level of excellence. Indeed, the Steelers have been competitive for more than thirty years, basically as long as I can remember. Until Mike Tomlin took the reigns from Bill Cowher a couple years ago, the Steelers had all of two head coaches for my entire lifetime, going on 40 years now. Two. It's one of the most stable organizations in all of corporate America, let alone pro sports. And as the Rooney article mentioned above illustrates, they've done it humbly and with class.

I have no idea if the Steelers will win or lose tonight. I'm anxious and worried, but I always feel that way pre-game. So we'll see. But as I sit here waiting (and waiting...the game doesn't start until 11:30pm London time), I just wanted to say how proud I am to be member of the Steeler Nation.

Happy New Year!

As Topel once sang, Tradition! How we got from the shtetl outside L'vov to Buca di Beppo on Scottsdale Road is a matter unto itself (first novel, anyone?), but suffice to say that plates of eggplant parmiagana bigger than truck hubcaps compel one to focus only on the here and now. This is year two of the family in Arizona (whoever happens to be around, which seems to be a growing group) celebrating New Year's Eve at this grottoed Italian eatery and pretty short story rendered even shorter: It's a lot of fun. The kids can make noise, the food pleases everyone, it's an ideal place for socializing with a large group. Enough said, except: Happy 2009!