Theo Teeter Totters in Gaeta

 When I first visited Italy, I went to all the hotspots--Rome, Florence and Venice. The Vatican to see Michelangelo's Pieta. The Galleria dell'Academia to see the David. You get the idea. And always I battled tourists, usually too many people crowded into too tiny a space.

Now years later we choose places with fewer tourists and more locals. We practice speaking Italian. That's why we decide to cruise down the southern coast of Italy with a small group of people and stop at Gaeta, a smaller lesser known Italian town.

But no one comes to Italy and doesn't eat. Restaurants and trattorias and bars and/or cooperatives and even the local supermarket will offer prepared food. The choices are endless . . . but we decide to stop at an agriturisimo--a family owned farmhouse that offers good food from local sources (often from their own fields) and if you want, a place to stay. Agriturisimos are located most often in the country so you also get a terrific view. 

The food is simple and fresh. Wine is plentiful. The service is friendly. It is a good choice if you are visiting Italy and want to avoid the tourist spots, and we simply love this agriturismo. 

They are family oriented.

No, these are not children on the teeter totter. We stare in envy as this young at heart couple go up and down. Theo is watching them, too.

When Theo issues a meow and wears that hangdog expression on his face, I know Theo wants to teeter totter, too.

"Okay, we'll do it."

 

Never easy. Dan climbs on his seat, and Theo jumps up on his seat on the other side. Of course, he has to sniff everything first, but his balance is pretty good. Tentatively they go up and down. Up and down. Everything is teeter tottering just fine, until it isn't. 

Theo spots a small squirrel lurking near the swings. With no warning, he jumps off his seat and well, you know what happens. As Theo later admits, he underestimated the force of gravity. Dan limps off his seat.

When we finally arrive in Gaeta, we are exhausted. So our first view of this beautiful town, called the "city of a hundred churches" is after the sun goes down. Theo is restless, but luckily falls asleep when we're ready to so outside for a walk. Or so we think . . .

We spot a big moon sitting in the sky and Dan captures it. 

"Can you believe we're here?" I ask him.

"I know, right?"

We hear a meow. And Theo, as if he's fallen straight from the sky, is standing right behind us. Stalking us?

"What are you doing here? After what you did this afternoon to dad on the teeter totter . . ."

Theo shrugs. "I had to do it, see?"

Always a gangster cat, right to the end. 

A Rascally Hero in the Cemetery

 I love cemeteries. They not only make me feel peaceful, but I have to admit, I feel a bit in awe to be among people who used to live on this earth--sometimes hundreds of years ago--and now they're in their final resting place.

A few years ago I learned an interesting fact. When American soldiers fight overseas in foreign lands, and they are killed, their families have to make a choice--to have the soldier's body shipped back to the USA or have them buried with their fellow soldiers in an American cemetery, close to where they died. Many families choose an American cemetery overseas, and as a result throughout the world, there are American cemeteries that hold our fallen.

If you're a fan of World War II, like I am, you probably know that Allied forces fought several battles to drive the Germans out of Italy and liberate Rome. One battle (approximately 35 miles south of Rome) was fought at Anzio. Other battles were fought in Sicily. 

The Sicily-Rome American Cemetery and Memorial is one of two permanent WWII American cemeteries in Italy. It holds 7,860 headstones of American soldiers who died in the battles which were fought. A chapel has the names engraved of 3,095 who went missing. 

The battles began on July 10, 1943 and ended when Rome was liberated on June 4, 1944. The cemetery contains 7,738 Latin crosses made of Lasa marble and 122 Stars of David.

Contrary to what you might expect, these cemeteries are beautiful. The lawns are perfectly manicured. There is always a fountain or pool. There is a chapel and a visitor center. 

I have no idea how Theo will react when we arrive. I imagine he'll want to run in the grass. Bask in the sun. Watch the water cascade down in the North garden fountain. Feel the wind caress his face. Will he understand where we are? 

We want to see all 77 acres. It's hard to arrive and see all the crosses perfectly lined up on the grounds, knowing each cross represents a person who left their home, was part of a battle, but never believed they would end of here. Most still had the greater part of their lives in front of them. Most had family that mourned when they didn't return. 

We walk around the grounds. We see the beautiful pool of water. 

We visit the chapel and read through some of the names that are engraved. We marvel at the ornate ceiling.

  

"Theo, there's something else we need to do."

Part of the tradition is to leave a flower near one of the crosses as a sign of remembrance and respect. I explain this to Theo and we walk through the crosses in one section. I am ready to lay the flower on one of the crosses dedicated to an unknown soldier. As the engraving reads, "he's known only to God."  But as I move closer, Theo stops me. 

"It's something I have to do," he meows.

I put the flower in his mouth, and he drops it slowly in front of the cross. 

I have to admit I underestimate the kid too often. But he's well aware of the concept of fighting and territory. As a cat, he fiercely guards the land that surrounds our house. Other cats are not welcome. Other animals are barely tolerated. Birds and squirrels--he's fascinated but usually wants them gone.

"Chucky would be proud of you, Theo." And then I give him a snack. After all, he's only a cat.

Theo is taking a much needed two week break from being the star. He will be relaxing at home with Sienna and Mico. Our next blog will be posted on October 29! See you then. Meow. 

Elephants in Rome?

 I do a lot of international traveling. I've been to China, Kenya, Spain, Portugal, France, Great Britain, Ireland, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Germany, the Netherlands . . . and, of course, Italy.  My favorite city is Rome. And one of my favorite things to do in Rome, besides eat, is walk around. See the sights. The city is both ancient and new, sunny and then lit up at night. It is magical.

I am the official tour guide. Dan is my steady backup. Theo is the reluctant tourist. This morning and afternoon, we decide to walk through the heart of Rome and play I Spy.

If you come to Rome, you will spy . . .

Piazzas or town squares, usually surrounding a monument, a fountain or an obelisk. This morning I spy an obelisk with the Virgin Mary sitting on the top, wearing a crown: 

Shopping streets or plazas or malls. This morning we cut through one of the most elegant malls you'll ever see:

Ancient buildings with Roman columns puckered with tiny holes that  are left over from where the Romans attached marble to the drab brick and mortar columns. Imagine what marble columns would have looked like!

A church with a cupola across from a cocktail bar and another church with a spire and a cross:

The Tiber River separating Rome from Vatican City: 

I think of where I live. There is nothing as old or elegant as this. In Rome everywhere you look, there is something from the past. 

Theo is remarkably well behaved. He is sauntering along, sniffing everything. If he could write or even dictate his meows into a recorder, the history he'd be able to describe . . . imagine . . . a dog from the three years ago passed by here and took a whiz. A squirrel dropped down from the elm tree over there and discovered a nut he'd buried in the ground from the year before. A horse clopped by here and ate an apple while he rested in the shade. 

"Are you having a good time, Theo?" 

Today is a beautiful day in Rome with clouds and sun and a soft breeze that flutters by. Every once in a while, we stoop down and let him lick a Churo, tuna flavored, which is his favorite. 

The gangster cat shrugs. "I can smell an elephant."

An elephant? Is Theo joking?

In 1962 the Italians discovered elephant bones while they were laying cable lines at the Vatican. It seems the Pope Leo X had a pet elephant--a gift from the King of Portugal. The pope loved his elephant and even had him buried near him when he died. 

Julius Caesar gained part of his reputation when he killed an elephant in battle. He often used an elephant to crush his enemies.

Elephants were brought in as part of the shows at the Colosseum.

And elephants were quite common in Rome during the Renaissance period. 

"Theo, you're a wonder."

Or, maybe he's watching a little too much of the History Channel.