Theo and the Italian Carousel

 This is not my first time in Rome. Over the years, I've arrived and conquered (as they say), taking time to explore all my usual haunts--The Spanish Steps--and never missing a chance to walk through the Villa Borghese Park. It literally sits behind The Spanish Steps on the grounds of what used to be an old vineyard. It was commissioned by a pope. It became a public park in 1908. It covers 60 hectares or approximately 2,000 acres.  And it is considered Rome's favorite park.

In the summer it is the perfect place to explore, especially if you're traveling with a cat who longs to be free and roam wide. Theo wants out of the backpack and down on the ground. He wants to sniff, sniff, sniff. 

So we climb the Spanish Steps--no easy feat--and turn left. We walk and walk and eventually spot a purple bush along the side of the road--the marker that tells us to begin the trek up another winding road to reach the park.

We're not expecting lush greenery here--not in June in the middle of Rome. There is little rain and the weather is hot. But I am expecting to catch a glimpse of the many antique statues that line the main road. It is astonishing to find such statuary in the middle of a park. 

We don't have the time or energy to walk all 2,000 or so acres, but I do want to show something to Theo. Something he's never seen before. 

"It's a surprise," I tell him. 

He tilts his head, and I know what he's thinking.

"No, it's not food."

I see a little bit of disappointment. 

"But, I promise after you see the surprise, we'll stop for gelato."

Now, Theo is no ice cream fan, but he does love gelato. The taste is different than ice cream, less sweet, and more--dare I say--luscious? And even though Theo can't speak a word of Italian, he does know the word gelato.

"There . . . there it is." 

I have no childhood memories of ever riding a carousel. Maybe that's why I am so enthralled with them as an adult. To me it is a magical place. You climb onboard and around you go. You forget for a moment that you're not really going anywhere, but as you whirl around in a gigantic circle, you lose sight of your family for a moment as the scenery whirs past until they appear again, waving and smiling. 

This carousel is furnished with different forms of transportation. I spot a Cinderella like coach, a mini sport car, and a Choo Choo train.

Theo rushes forward and jumps aboard. He wanders around and, you can guess it, sniffs. The carousel is deserted. Theo has it all to himself. Time goes by. 

"Okay." We've been roving around Rome for hours. We want to walk back to our hotel, clean up and get dinner. 

Theo is moving from the coach to the sport car to the Choo Choo train. He has no intention of leaving his surprise. 

"He's going to sniff every inch of that carousel," I realize with despair.

Dan doesn't like the sound of that. 

"Yeah, yeah." Dan, the hero, walks over, swoops Theo up and begins rushing toward the ice cream stand. Theo shoots me a dirty look, but Dan continues to march along.

And then I get a surprise, too. Some trees in Italy have the most unusual shape. They look like giant tree umbrellas. And one is growing by a palm tree. I can't resist capturing them. It is a sight you'll never see in New Jersey.

Finally, we order a gelato grande. Ordering gelato in Italy is different than ordering an ice cream in America. You get one flavor and one flavor only. In Italy, we can choose three flavors--Pistachio, Crema, and Stracciatella (Pistacchio, Cream and Vanilla with chocolate shreds in it.) Theo loves the Crema. 

While we eat, we stare at the trees. Heaven! And even Theo seems happy, as happy as a gangster cat can be!

Chuck Meows to Erupting Volcano

You can see Mt. Etna in the distance, before she blows, giving off smoke.

The “rascal cat” had plenty of reasons to want to visit Taormina, so when we flew from Rome to the tiny airport in Catania and began to make our way across the Sicilian countryside, Chuck sat in rapt attention, his nose pressed against the window of our car.

Taormina is one of the most popular European tourist destinations in the summer if you’re looking for good food, a beautiful landscape, and a busy nightlife.  The dramatic seascapes mingle with the shore, the antique stone buildings and cobblestone streets lend sheer elegance to the passeggiata--the Italian word for the nightly walk that Italians take. In Taormina, everyone gathers at dusk before the evening meal to parade down the center of town, past the upscale stores and restaurants, the gelaterias and the pizzerias. They talk and laugh, window shop and check out the competition.

The typical quaint streets of Taormina

Even when we arrived--at the start of November--there were still plenty of tourists crowding the streets. Luckily, in Sicily the days are still in the low seventies and although the nights chill down, you only need a sweater or jacket.

Quickly we developed a nightly routine.

We would leave our hotel and begin to descend the steps down to the center of town.  Nothing is flat in Taormina.  You either walk up or down.  We passed our favorite restaurant on the right and waved hello to Enzo who was the owner, chief cook, waiter, and with his Japanese wife, ran the entire operation.  His sign promised that they spoke almost every language under the sun--Spanish, French, German, Italian, English, and, of course, Japanese.  His food was "squisito."  On certain days, he’d heat the ovens and make pizza.

Enzo, in his kitchen busily preparing his dough

Most nights we stopped in to say hello.  Most days we’d eaten lunch there and sampled his salads and sandwiches, his pastas and soups.  His sausage rendered my husband speechless. He pretended not to notice Chuck and even brought a special little plate over.

The wall of Enzo's restaurant are filled with letters from his customers who rave about his food

After our visit with Enzo, we reached Corso Umberto, the main street of Taormina and had to decide to walk either right or left.  Both choices were good ones.  There were excellent gelaterias in either direction and eating gelato before dinner had become an obsession of mine.  Limone is my favorite flavor, but I’d begun to sample other flavors, especially since the custom here in Italy is to order more than one flavor--preferably two or three for a cone.

When we stopped, I ordered pistacchio, stracchiatella, and “crema” for me and a separate smaller gelato for Chuck. His favorite flavor? No, not chocolate, even though that is the number one flavor in Italy.  Chuck loved “crema,” which tastes a lot like heavy cream. No surprise because the kid loved snacks and was a gelato addict, too.  We found a quiet place to sit so he could inhale his gelato.

We continued up the main drag until we reached St. Catherine’s Church.

Outside St. Catherine's Church in Taormina

Earlier that day the church was all abuzz with a celebration which would be the equivalent to our Veteran’s Day.  There was a band and a procession down Corse Umberto ending with Mass at the church. But now all was quiet.

The procession and band marching toward the church

We reversed direction and walked up the street, admiring the beautiful coral pearls that were displayed in several high-end jewelry stores.  Finally, we make our way back to the hotel for dinner.
The night had been rather uneventful until someone made the suggestion that we ascend to the hotel roof for the view.  We’ve heard about this, but we’d never done it.

The center square in Taormina where musicians played

The roof extended the entire length of the hotel.  It was a beautiful night.  Very clear.  We spotted some stars . . . and . . . the full moon.  And because we were so high up and seemingly away from everything, it almost felt as if we could touch that moon.

Suddenly we heard an explosion.  Someone was setting off firecrackers in celebration of this memorial day?  We couldn’t be sure but they looked beautiful exploding in the dark sky.
And if that weren’t enough, my husband grabbed my arm and pointed in the direction of Mt. Etna.  We watched in awe as lava poured out of the top of Etna and cascaded down the mountain, which even though we learned later was a regular thing, it sure seemed special now.

“The night sky is putting on a show for us tonight,” I said to Chuck.

“We are so lucky to be in Sicily.  In Taormina,” Bob said.

            “Meow,” Chuck said finally.

The three of us continued to stare at the erupting volcano, the fireworks, and the full moon.

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