Thankful Thursday: Thanksgiving 2015

For years now I have been reminded again and again of the critical importance of gratitude as a daily practice. That doesn't mean I always excel at practicing it daily. But I'm convinced that I need to, whether or not I actually do.

For the last eleven Thanksgivings, I've enjoyed dwelling deeply in the THANKS of this holiday: compiling a list of 100 things I'm thankful for and posting it on the holiday. It's poetry of sorts--the tiny details and the pillars of my life, the simple earthly pleasures and the facets of God's character, the joys and the hard eucharisteo, all smashed together in one long list.

This year I'm thanking God for, among His countless blessings to me, these specific hundred:

7703. nerve endings on my scalp
7704. my boys' smooth, kissable cheeks and foreheads
7705. my husband's strong arms and shoulders
7706. a family that likes to snuggle
7707. hand-holding

7708. Steve playing countless board games with the boys
7709. bedtime prayers
7710. handmade table to contain all the Legos
7711. Elijah reading to Jude
7712. sharing without coercion

7713. my boys' impossibly long eyelashes
7714. awkward, crowded adult teeth in a kid's mouth
7715. baby teeth with huge gaps between them
7716. feet growing so fast that new shoes look like skis
7717. uncontrollable giggles

7718. the pleasures of vacation
7719. the comforts of home
7720. exciting new experiences
7721. familiar rhythms and routines
7722. Heaven, the best of both: endless thrilling discoveries with the realest sense of belonging and being Home

7723. mugs with logos that remind me of places
7724. the capacity to learn language
7725. the fact that I haven't killed my spider plants in almost six months
7726. Steve's safety precautions when remodeling
7727. battery-powered lightsabers on long nighttime car rides

7728. the privilege of intercession
7729. the sting of conviction
7730. the humiliation of confession
7731. the relief of forgiveness
7732. the hope of resurrection

7733. a dining room table that can seat twelve
7734. the fact that we have often gotten to fill it
7735. all the gouges and dings and scratches that give it character
7736. the miraculous fact that I have learned to cook for a crowd without feeling overwhelmed
7737. a freezer for leftovers

7738. the Advent wreath Steve made
7739. the anticipation of playing Christmas music
7740. a second Christmas tree for the office, bought on clearance last December
7741. our little Jesse Tree
7742. time with family over the holidays

7743. Italian espresso on a terrace in Rome
7744. cappuccino gianduia in a Naples train station
7745. cinnamon dolce latte at Starbucks with a friend
7746. spiced apple cider sipped on dark mornings under a quilt
7747. homemade bone broth simmering on my stove

7748. time stamps on digital photos
7749. street view + linked photos on Google Maps
7750. Yelp restaurant reviews
7751. calligraphers on Instagram
7752. all the funny humans who create memes and tweets and videos that make me laugh out loud

7753. soaring dome of St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City
7754. multicolored marble in Chiesa del Gesu Nuovo, Naples
7755. frescoes of Santa Maria Novella, Florence
7756. stained glass and woodwork of St. Paul's United Methodist, Montpelier
7757. the basement of an old hospital, RBC Nashville

7758. Humans of New York
7759. StoryCorps
7760. storyteller-photographers
7761. storyteller-songwriters
7762. storytellers

7763. the perfectly soft skin of a baby
7764. my husband's increasing number of gray hairs
7765. lines around my eyes: I have smiled enough times in 33 years to create permanent creases in my skin
7766. the veined and wrinkled hands of the elderly
7767. the ability to exercise

7768. stories of injustice that make me uncomfortable
7769. stories of suffering that open my eyes
7770. opportunities to help bear burdens
7771. the means to give and relieve suffering
7772. the capacity for empathy, so much more than I had when I was younger

7773. Colossians study with women at church
7774. psalms of lament
7775. Jeremiah's guarantees of faithfulness and new mercies
7776. memorizing Revelation with the boys
7777. the promises of Romans 8

7778. connections with new friends
7779. reconnections with old friends
7780. happy mail
7781. lettering others' names on envelopes to give them happy mail
7782. places to belong

7783. David Powlison's wise reminder: "God seems content to work on a scale of centuries within the church and a scale of decades with individuals."
7784. seeing and rejoicing at that slow but perceptible movement
7785. hindsight glimpses of how beautifully He was at work
7786. the privilege of walking with a new believer, seeing her grow in faith
7787. hopeful glimpses of how He is changing me

7788. broken toes
7789. the body's ability to self-heal
7790. miraculous healings
7791. ordinary, faithful, hardworking doctors and nurses who heal
7792. healings via going Home

7793. mottled clouds blowing across a full moon
7794. pinks and purples and oranges at sunset
7795. Orion in the winter night sky
7796. warm sunshine
7797. flickering firelight

7798. the sweetness of this season of motherhood
7799. reassurances from older moms that the best is yet to come
7800. the discomfort of having to walk by faith, without a five- or ten-year plan
7801. still being able to joke with Steve over our kids' heads
7802. still being able to pick up both my boys

Sentiero Degli Dei: Bomerano to Nocelle

Sentiero Degli Dei (Italian for "Path of the Gods") is said to be one of the best hikes in Italy. The first part of the trail is about four miles, running from Bomerano to Nocelle.

Rather than exploring it on our own, we hired Gabriella of Walk Positano to guide us, and that proved to be a better choice for certain. She offered all kinds of information about the plants and landscape features we passed, the history of the area and its people, and the trail itself. She grew up in Positano and has hiked this trail since she was a child, so she had lots of knowledge and expertise to share. And, it was fun to have her able and willing to take pictures of the two of us together at various points along the trail!

I took SO many photos of the gorgeous scenery--I'll choose just a few highlights to share in two posts.

Once we finally made it to Bomerano, we had espresso with Gabriella at Hotel Gentile and then set off. The trail begins at the edge of the village:

At this point, you're roughly 1400 feet above sea level:

Off in the distance, on the bottom right, you can see steeply terraced vineyards and olive groves:

Here there's a free water fountain and the path splits--you can head east to Praiano or, as we did, to Nocelle and then on to Positano.

Olive trees are prevalent in the region:

The town you see in the bottom right of this photo is Positano--where we're headed:

Positano, just off my elbow:

After about two hours of walking, we made it to the village of Nocelle.

Here we found another water fountain and a place to wash off our dusty feet. Then it was on down to Positano...

 

[Nocelle to Positano, coming later this week]

Portici to Bomerano: The Great Taxi Disaster

When we planned to spend a day on the Amalfi Coast, we wanted to experience the famous "Blue Ribbon Drive"--SS163, described by Lonely Planet as

"snaking round impossibly tight curves, over deep ravines and through tunnels gouged out of sheer rock...a severe test of driving skill and courage, a white-knuckle ride...the price for those sublime views is numerous switchbacks and plunging drops to the sea, frequently with only waist-high barriers between you and oblivion." 

Photo: flickr/sacred_destinations

We figured we'd take a bus. We didn't figure we'd be in a taxi with the meter ticking up to 200€ and beyond. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

One of our big splurges for the trip was a guided hike on Sentiero Degli Dei (Path of the Gods)--supposedly the most beautiful hike in all Italy. We made arrangements with a private guide, Gabriella of Walk Positano, to take us from the trailhead in Bomerano down to Positano on the coast.

The only way to get from our B&B in Portici to Bomerano was to hire a taxi. Preliminary research indicated that a ride should cost around 40€ - 50€ and take 45-50 minutes. So the day before our hike, I asked our host for help getting a taxi. She clearly was not familiar with Bomerano at all...which was, in hindsight, Giant Red Flag Number One.

But I gave her the name and address of the hotel where were supposed to meet our guide, told her we wanted to leave at 8:00 the next morning, and then she disappeared. When we returned that night after a day of sightseeing, our kind host had waited up to tell us that the taxi would cost 100€ - 150€.

Um. WHAT? We'll call that Giant Red Flag Number Two.

With the language barrier, I couldn't have much of a conversation with her about it, but we didn't really have a choice. We had to get to Bomerano; we'd already reserved the hike with Gabriella--so  we'd just have to wince and pay the outrageous taxi fare. We were frustrated, but I saved a screenshot of the website where I'd found lower estimates, hoping we could show the driver and bargain. 

The taxi showed up promptly at 7:30 the next morning (we'd asked for an extra half hour just to be safe). The driver spoke no English. I offered him a paper on which I'd written the hotel name and address, but he waved it aside, showing me the paper our host had given him with the address. At the bottom, she had written: "BOMERANO SOPRA PRAIANO." Bomerano--above Praiano. (Red Flag Number Three.) The driver typed something into his GPS, and off we went.

The first leg of the trip went smoothly; I followed along on my phone with Google Maps, and we took the expected route. But then he turned off the highway and headed toward the coast. We waited, uncertain, but as we passed Castellammare di Stabia, Google Maps wasn't rerouting; it was telling us to turn around. Finally I leaned over the seat and tried to show him my phone--but again, he didn't speak English, and he waved me off. I believe he may have said something about Praiano. How many red flags are we up to now, four?

The farther we went, the more nervous we got. I texted Gabriella to tell her that the driver was taking us around the coast and I feared we would be late. Yet his GPS still showed we would be there at 8:45, so we had no idea what was going on. In hindsight, we definitely should have insisted that he pull over and clarified exactly where he was going and what our map said. But you know what they say about hindsight. In reality, we were in a foreign country; we did not know the language or the area. And he was using a GPS, for crying out loud! He had the exact address, so we should be good, right?

Twenty minutes later, I hadn't heard from Gabriella, we had begun the infamous Amalfi Coast drive, and Google Maps was *still* telling us to turn around and go back, saying we were 80 minutes from Bomerano. Finally Gabriella texted back and told us to put him on the phone with her. Not exactly optimal to have your taxi driver talking on the phone while driving on a road barely wide enough for two-way traffic, with hairpin turns and sheer dropoffs...but OK...

The one and only photo I got of the Amalfi Coast drive. We had wanted to experience this drive--but not on these terms! We were so stressed out about making it to our meeting point and how much the taxi was going to cost that we couldn't even enjoy the views.

I handed the phone to the driver and he began a heated conversation, none of which we understood--until all of a sudden he said, "Mamma mia, mamma mia." At that point Steve and I lost it. That part needed no translation! Clearly he knew now just how badly he had screwed up. We could not stop giggling.

The driver handed the phone back, and Gabriella said, "I told him he's an idiot!" She was furious with him--she couldn't understand how he (or our host) had gotten us so very lost. Now, not only were we still over an hour away, but because of a forest fire in the area, we might not be able to get through at all.

She gave the driver alternate directions, but not trusting him, texted the landmarks to us as well--and from that point we navigated from the backseat. Her directions were perfect, thankfully, and she graciously told us she would wait for us.

We think the original problem was our host's fixation on Praiano. She told the driver that our destination was "above Praiano"--which was correct in a geographical sense. But Praiano was definitely NOT the way to get to Bomerano from Portici. We should have gone directly up into the mountains to get there:

Instead, we went around the coast to Praiano first and then up:

Yeah. Toward the end, our route on Google Maps looked like this:

 

The road was jammed and only one lane, with traffic trying to go both ways; at one point our driver had to throw it in reverse so someone else could make it around the hairpin turn. Miraculously, we finally made it to Hotel Gentile in Bomerano, where Gabriella greeted us--"only" an hour late.

Then it was time to pay the driver--who, it's safe to say, was having a pretty bad day. The meter showed over 200€, but we felt 100€ would be fair, given that it should have only cost about half that if he had gone the right way. He was not satisfied with that at all. "Cento cinquante!" he insisted. One hundred fifty! I knew only enough Italian to understand the number--not enough to argue.

Awkwardness ensued; Gabriella translated just a bit, then turned aside, unwilling to get in the middle of the dispute. Maybe we should have just left the 100€ and walked away, but the fact was, we *had* been quoted the 150€ amount the night before, so we were on shaky ground arguing with him. Gabriella insisted we should require our host to reimburse us for part of the cost, but with the language difficulties, we decided not to pursue it.

In the end we cut our losses and reassured ourselves we'd laugh at the story later. And we did. But oh my goodness, what an ordeal. Gabriella could not stop talking about it the rest of the morning--she kept expressing how outrageous she thought it was that our host and the driver could have gotten it so wrong, and she told everyone we passed on the trail (in Italian, but I could pick out enough familiar words to know she was repeating the story again).

So the hike cost us a whole lot more than we planned--but it gave us a memorable story, and it was indeed a spectacular hike. Pictures of that coming tomorrow!

Dinner in Naples: Locanda del Cerriglio (Pasta alla Genovese)

For dinner in Naples, we had planned to try a highly-recommended restaurant called Europeo di Mattozzi...only to discover that it didn't even open until 8:00PM. We couldn't wait that late and still catch the last train back to Portici, so we consulted Yelp for a nearby alternative. 

Yelp did not disappoint. 

Locanda del Cerriglio calls itself the oldest tavern in Naples. It's hidden down a dark alley--in other words, exactly the kind of out-of-the-way, non-touristy place we love. 

When we walked in, the host had to find a different waiter to serve us since he didn't speak enough English. Yesssss. Perfect.

We began with this beautiful platter of misti salumi e mozzarella (mixed cold cuts):

All delicious. Below, the mozzarella--this is what I mean when I say it was so fresh that milk leaked out when you cut into it: 

As usual, we ordered a primo and a secondo to share. I was eager to try candele spezzate alla Genovese, one of the most classic Neapolitan pastas. The sauce is beef and caramelized onions that cooks alllll day long; the shape of pasta is "broken candles."

Oh. My. Goodness. One of THE very best things I put in my mouth in Italy. So so so delicious. I have got to try making this sauce at home. 

Steve wanted to try orata (bream?) with baked tomatoes. This how it came:

Which led to the most hilarious of all our restaurant experiences. The waiter asked if we wanted him to dress the fish or if we felt comfortable doing it. Steve said no, he was fine. Then he asked, "Is it basically like how you'd clean a raw fish?" The waiter gave him the side eye and said, "I do it."

As he worked, he gave us this commentary with a completely straight face: "It's like undressing a woman." [pause, continue to work carefully] "She doesn't know that she's naked. That's the trick." 

We totally could not stop laughing. The fish, for the record, was delicious.  

For a contorno, we also ordered ortaggi alla griglia (grilled vegetables):

I had heard the table behind us (there was only one other couple in the restaurant the entire time we were there, since by arriving at 7:30 we were way too early for the Italians) ordering dessert, so I was curious to see what they had. The waiter took me to the cooler to show the options, and I chose a torta limone (lemon cake):

 

Plus some espresso.

Steve can't do after-dinner coffee or he doesn't sleep well, but since caffeine doesn't affect me, I enjoyed it now and then. 

Our check came in this charming little treasure chest:

And with that, we declared our authentic Neapolitan dinner a rousing success. Highly recommend Locanda del Cerriglio!

Naples Day 5: Churches, Piazzas, and the Harbor

Once we'd seen the Archaeological Museum, Cappella Sansevero, and Santa Chiara, the only remaining "top sight" (according to Reid's Italy) was Certosa di San Martino at Castel Sant'Elmo--and after catching a glimpse of the castle, we decided we just didn't have it in us to make our way all the way up there and back.

Castel Sant'Elmo, as seen from Piazza del Plebiscito

Instead, we wandered into a couple of random churches (which proved to be a wonderful choice) before making our way down to the bay. 

First was Chiesa del Gesu Nuovo, which has a very unusual stone facade dating to the 14th century. This is how overwhelmed we were by the sheer number of beautiful and/or interesting things we saw: I totally don't even remember noticing the front of this church; I didn't really *see* it until I was searching Google Maps and Flickr trying to figure out what church I'd taken interior pictures of.

photo: flickr/mweav31

How in the world did I miss this, right?!

photo: flickr/aprileclark

The inside: yet another breathtaking Italian cathedral...

With my very limited knowledge of Italian, I was able to read this sign: "He was born for us."

We walked down near Castel Nuovo, which had restorations/excavations going on all around it.

Then, docked in the harbor, we saw "our" cruise ship--the one we'd booked a cruise on in the first place, before our plans fell through. We found this endlessly amusing, that our would-be cruise mates were enjoying excursions in Naples the same day we were exploring the city. We had to take a selfie in front of it :) 

We wandered around by the water a bit and admired Vesuvius:

Then we walked back up to Piazza del Plebiscito, Naples' largest public square. It reminded me a bit of St. Peter's Square in the Vatican:

The church in the center is Basilica Reale San Francesco di Paola. It's very similar to the Pantheon in Rome, with an impressive dome; photography wasn't allowed inside, but I found these Creative Commons photos on Flickr:

photo: flickr/castefoto

photo: flickr/castefoto

As it happened, we stumbled upon another wedding! While we were looking around, a small ceremony began with an old couple--I don't know if it was a vow renewal or a couple getting married late in life, but it was adorable :) We ducked back out and took a rest on the steps, watching a group of boys play soccer in the piazza before setting out to find dinner.

Italian Traffic: Fearing For My Life

The Neapolitans have an old saying, "Vedi Napoli e poi muori!" "See Naples and die!" They mean it in the sense of "once you've seen Naples, then you can die," or "Naples is so beautiful, it can stop your heart." But after seeing the city myself, I wonder if it might be better said: You might actually die trying to see Naples.

In other words, now that we've made it home from Italy in one piece, I can tell my mother how frequently I feared for my life while we were there :)

One very memorable thing I forgot to share in my post about the chaotic atmosphere of Naples was how terrifying it was to cross the street.  It was scary in Rome, too, but not quite so terrifying as Naples.

As I mentioned in a previous post, all the Italian cities we visited had a distinctly different feel from American cities, mainly due to the public spaces. Each was peppered with open piazzas, both large and small--spaces for people to gather and be together.

Piazza del Gesu Nuovo

Piazza del Plebiscito

Piazza del Plebiscito

Each of the cities also had "limited traffic zones," where pedestrians could roam very freely without having to pay attention to cars and motorcycles.

Piazza Trieste e Trento

And this was a tremendous relief, because in all the rest of the city, outside the ZTL...oh my.

Traffic in Italy is something else. Laws seem to be viewed as suggestions. And somehow it just works. Steve had told me stories about riding around in a van in Italy when he went for a business trip last spring; he remarked that he couldn't believe how crazy the traffic was, and yet he felt that their driver was really an excellent driver. He was fully aware of exactly where the boundaries of his vehicle were, and he used every bit of space available to him. It's hard to describe if you haven't seen it, but it's almost like the traffic is some sort of organism all its own. They all drive like maniacs compared to what we are used to, and yet they are all watching out for each other and yielding to each other just enough to avoid a wreck.

So how do pedestrians fit into that mess? They do have crosswalks, and at a few intersections you might get the walk/don't walk light you expect everywhere in a major American city. But most of the time, you are on your own. The traffic will not just all screech to a halt for you. Ever. If you stand and wait until it seems like an appropriate time to cross, you will seriously be waiting all day.

So, you have to just go. You literally walk out in front of oncoming traffic and trust that they will stop. And they do. They pause just long enough for you to get past, and then they zoom by. It. Is. Terrifying.

Every time we had to cross the street, I would grab Steve's hand and hold on for dear life. I just did not have the nerve to step out there. And if you hesitate, it does not work. If you are skittish and slow, you hold up traffic more, and the drivers get annoyed. You really just have to GO, with confidence (and hope and pray you do not get run over). Yay for Steve--he could do it, and he did not get us killed. I seriously have no idea how they do not have daily pedestrian accidents. You would not believe it until you have experienced it firsthand.