Canyonlands National Park

If Arches had been like walking around Mars, Canyonlands was the moon. Tall needle-shaped rock formations and canyons wider than the eye can see are a short drive away in Canyonlands National Park. If I'd spent the day before looking up to all the arches, I spent the next looking out into the wide horizon.


The park is made of three main districts: Island in the Sky, Needles, and the Mazes. We went with the former as our short introduction and were suitably impressed by the mesa plateau that we drove/hiked on, over 1000 miles above the rest of the terrain. The canyons were principally cut by running water (and receding seas) over millions of years and the layers in the rock formation are evident from certain views in the park - both the Colorado and Green rivers still run through the park.


We headed up to the Mesa Arch earlier in the day where my husband scrambled to the top of the arch for a photo opportunity, nearly giving me a heart attach 1500 feet above a canyon on a windy day. Sticking to the prescribed trail on the Island in the Sky, we didn't even scratch the surface of the magnificent 530 square miles of park land. We capped off the day with a "sound and light" canyonlands boat tour outside of Moab. Cruising down the Colorado, our guide pointed out shapes and figures in the surrounding cliffs until we turned around and bobbed back to Moab to accompanying music and dramatic lights.

Day 20: Palazzo Isimbardi, Milan

The Palazzo Isimbardi is a Milanese landmark dating back to the 16th century and currently housing many of the administrative offices of the province of Milan. While it's typically a work environment, with reservation you're able to access some parts of the historic grounds and visit the gorgeous garden in the back.

I actually have no idea what ancient figure or goddess this statue is of but with the flowers and the dogwood in the background, it's a definite sign that spring has finally visited Milan.

My Market Haul

Now that we've passed the 100 day mark for our time in Italy (that is, eighty-something days until our departure), I find myself taking more pictures, shopping more at markets, generally soaking up the Italian vibe. Friday's snow had pretty much melted by Saturday morning, leaving puddles and generally decent weather to make it out to the Bastione della Porta Nuova street market. The weather had kept me away for weeks but I had a hankering for the roasted chicken we buy there and bundled up to make the trip.

I came away with the chicken and all kinds of other goodies. A big bag of the sweetest seedless clementines I've had all season (bought after the vendor insisted that I try them), some prosciutto di parma, asiago cheese, salty green olives, a new rosemary plant, and the tulips I bought to (hopefully) welcome in the spring.

While Kabul may have it's own spectacular markets, I'm going to miss this.


Can anyone help to identify this particular type of tulip? Is it the carnival tulip? Aunt Janice should know....

The Milan Garden Show

I had a friend in town from Rome for the weekend (with her two-year-old daughter) so it was a good excuse to do the kinds of things that my husband won't do with me. We ate Indian food, watched 'Mary Poppins', and went to a garden show in the nearby Giardini Pubblici.


The Giardini Pubblici are always lovely but were made even more so by the gigantic trade show taking place over the weekend. Obviously, plants were for sale and we saw a huge variety of flowers (I lost track of the different types of roses), herbs, and green things. I often felt tempted to add to my balcony collection but stayed calm, remembering that we are already halfway through our time in Milan and will leave before next summer even starts.


As I am now learning, it seems to be a requirement that any show or fair have multiple booths selling food that is produced locally or typical to the region. The garden show was no exception and this olive oil vendor came well prepared with huge vats in his little truck. Still well-stocked with the olive oil I bought last fall from a colleague's family production near Salerno, I walked past - only to be waylaid by the most amazing raspberry jam. Second only to my granddad Blum's homemade jams, this was world-class.

Amazingly, the two-year-old made it several hours without complaint, perhaps distracted by all the fake animals (made of stone, metal, and topiary). Glad for an afternoon with a friend, we headed back for bedtime and movies.

Sights of Sorrento

On our last full day in Sorrento, we decided to stick around town and explore the city we'd spent so much time leaving. By mid-afternoon, we'd noticed that all the tourists that surrounded us at night seemed to have vanished. Like us, they were using Sorrento as a base and had considerately emptied the streets for us.


We wandered into the shops with the brightly colored pottery and walked quickly past the shops selling fragrant lemon-shaped soaps.


We debated whether or not to buy the gigantic lemons, famous in the region. Those suckers were have the size of my head.


Unsurprisingly, we found beautiful views around every corner. Each uphill staircase led to a more beautiful scene.


We eventually found ourselves going downhill, towards the Marina Grande. This remains the fishing center of Sorrento and is still the "big" marina despite the "little" marina being larger. Several lovely restaurants are perched along the docks, perfect for enjoying a summer sunset.


We even spotted several local fishermen, bringing home their catch for the day in their brightly colored boats.


Walking back, we passed a sign that boasted "custom shoes in 10 minutes". Naturally, I stopped to bargain my price.


After I picked out my design, strap color, and heel style, the cobbler got to work. Hammering and twisting the leather, he molded the sandal to my foot.


A more practical souvenir than a gigantic lemon.

My Black Thumb

While I'm gone for the week, the magic of Blogger's auto posting feature continues. We spent the past weekend doing boring house stuff. After spending way too much time and money on Saturday at Leroy Merlin, the curiously named Home Depot of Italy, Sunday was spent transforming ugly balcony into a spring garden. Their plant selection was low so I ended up starting from scratch and am hoping that my seedlings and bulbs survive our vacation and my black thumb. I've put the basil, thyme, rosemary, and green onion into smaller pots and have saved the large planters for gladioli, assorted summer flowers, and one peony that I'm really really really hoping grows.


This is the first time I have ever officially tried to Grow Something. Usually I just buy plants (basil, thyme, poinsettias at Christmas) at the grocery store. I'll forget about them after a few weeks and they'll die off. However, I'm optimistic that this time will be different. It's almost April and my poinsettia is still hanging on. Keep your fingers crossed that these dirt-filled pots will turn into flowers and herbs.

Ypres, Belgium

After several years of spending holidays and vacations with my parents in Brussels, I feel like I have had a good run of the city. It's beautiful and the beer is good but when our friends suggested heading out of town, we both jumped at the opportunity! Enticed by the sounds of an exclusive Trappist beer monastery and World War I history, we hopped in a friend's car and headed to Flanders.


We landed Ypres, an ancient town with history dating back to the first century B.C. when it was invaded by the Romans. Ypres has had a number of unwelcome visitors over the years, most notably the Germans during WWI. In the first battle of Ypres, the Allied forces took back the town but during the second battle, the Germans used poison gas for the first time on the Western Front. However, it was the third battle of Ypres (or the Battle of Passchendaele) that reserved a place in history for this town. Fought from late July to early November 1917, the battle cost tens of thousands of Canadian, British, French, Australian, Kiwi, and even Pakistani and Sikh lives. The city was devastated and most of the original buildings, including the great Cloth Hall (pictured above), were rebuilt after the war with German reparation money.


A large arch in the center of town, the Menin Gate Memorial, commemorates the lives of British Commonwealth soldiers lost. Engraved in all of the walls are the names of the deceased whose bodies were never recovered.


Poppies, both real and paper, wreath and single flowers, are placed near the names to pay tribute. The significance of this flower comes from the poem "In Flanders Field" written by Lt. Col. John McCrae in 1915. He wrote the poem after the loss of a friend in the battlefields of Flanders. The Canadian doctor and soldier's poem ends with the line

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

While out in the country, we visited the Essex Farm Military Cemetery. During WWI, this area was used as a field dressing station and eventual grave site. There are 1,199 grave sites at this location, most of them with touches of poppies left by visitors.


Between the cemetery and the town of Ypres is the St. Sixtus Trappist Abbey. Adjacent is the Westvleteren Brewery, run by the Abbey's monks. The brewery was founded in 1893 and only produced three types of beers. These beers are not produced commercially and are only available for sale on the grounds of the abbey. Unfortunately, our visit fell on a Sunday and while I didn't think that Blue Laws existed in Europe, we probably shouldn't have been surprised to find out that we couldn't take any of the famous beers home. Instead, we relaxed with 10.2% beers and a local cheese inside the brewery's bar. Savoring my Westvleteren 12, I enjoyed the rich taste of the beer - the only Trappist beer still produced by monks (they only employ three secular employees for this production!)


As the sun started to set, we began our drive back to Brussels. Though robbed of the beautiful scenery by the darkness, I was able to settle back into my seat to reflect on all the amazing things I saw earlier.

The Dining Room

Just a neat photo that Mark took of the flowers in our dining room.