Milani - A World Traveler Review

In my earlier days of traveling through Italy, during my twenties when I had not-so-much money, I stayed at hostels.  And when I arrived in Florence, since the hostel was full-up, I ended up sleeping on the lawn in front of the train station.  This was pleasant, as I was surrounded by other young travelers who dotted the landscape like cocoons that night.  Pleasant, that is, until 5:30 AM when a police officer thumped his baton on my sleeping bag.

Fast forwarding to this past April when my husband/ soul mate and I came to Italy, and made Florence a primary destination, what a delightful difference it was to have a hotel to burrow into after a gritty train ride from Milan.  The Hotel Cimabue offered many amenities that were lacking on my trip to the city those long 30 years ago.

While not as close to the train station as we had initially been led to believe at the website - do not attempt to walk there from the train station with your baggage; just take a taxi - it was a few blocks away from many dining establishments, and all the sights - the Duomo, Uffizi Gallery, Pallazio, Academie of Art where the David is kept, etc.

When we asked for some restaurant recommendations, Denis, the clerk on duty, told us about Pepo's and Zaza, both of which were located in the Central Market area.  We had the opportunity to try both of them.  We needed reservations for Pepo's and saved the experience there for our last evening.  We also tried a couple of the other places nearby including O Sole Mio which I believe served the best pizza and salad I had in Italy.  There was even an accordion player who graced us with "O Sole Mio" and then went from table to table with his hand open for euros.

Nobody would go wrong eating at any of these establishments.

Although our room at the Hotel Cimabue was modest in size, it provided us with a place to sleep, take a shower, have a very nice breakfast every morning, enjoy free Internet access and even hand-wash our socks and underwear in the bathroom sink.  Although we stayed in a room overlooking the street, even during May Day which is arguably the noisiest night of the year with the most revelers staying up until dawn, our room was sound-proofed, and not a crack of daylight crept into the room when we wanted to sleep.  One disconcerting thing, however, was that instead of one double mattress, our bed was comprised of two twins.  We had not come to Florence to spend time in bed, and Hotel Cimabue turned out to be just the right spot for us.

 The hotel staff were always pleasant, and if they did not know the answers to our questions, they performed research until they could find out what we needed to know.  They turned us on to "Florence by Bike," a bicycle shop that rented some nice quality mountain bikes.  These bikes carried us around town and helped us plot out all the places we wanted to see on foot.


All in all, our stay at Hotel Cimabue was a positive experience and we are still sifting through all the photographs of the most romantic city on Earth, Florence, Italy.

When in Rome... - by Patty Mooney

My husband and I just flew back from a two-week vacation in Italy (and are our arms tired!  It's a joke!)

Over the course of a very fast two weeks, we arrived in Milan, made our way slowly down to Florence, and then finished off in Rome where we did so much walking, I thought my legs would fall off.  And I took so many photographs, my camera started to smoke.

Here's a short pictorial to start off a series of Italia posts, get myself back in the blogger seat, and share some fun adventures with you, my dear readers.

At the Milano airport we were greeted by these beefy-legged soccer players.

Joe the dog was a very friendly presence at the villa of Mike and Sheila, with whom we stayed on our first night in Milan.

Some typical homes in the Varese countryside

Graffiti is everywhere in Italy.  Everywhere.  It seemed so primitive and egotistical, compared to the Renaissance works by Boticelli, Raphael, Michaelangelo and daVinci which we saw later in Florence and Rome.  This blue bird is a whimsical splash of color on an otherwise drab wall, but most graffiti we saw was comprised of taggers' initials.  Yawn.

A detail on the side of a building in Lugano, Switzerland, where we spent the day; it's just about an hour and a half north of Varese, Italy.

A reclining female nude at Lake Lugano

The first of many mannequins we would see in shop windows from Lugano to Rome

Angels on either side of a beer mug, and the first of many sculptures we would see.  

Stay tuned.... I am just getting started.

Vampires Are Trying to Destroy Mission Trails Regional Park - by Patty Mooney

Let me tell you about a beautiful place where you can go hiking or biking or bird watching, or simply lounging on a soft patch of grass in the shade of an old oak tree. A place where the Kumeyaay Indians used to live. You can still see their metate grooves in the boulders alongside the San Diego River where they used to grind acorns for their meals, and watch the ducks bob on the water.

This is one of the nation's largest wilderness parks inside a city, and it's called Mission Trails Regional Park. My husband and I have hiked and mountain biked here for the past 30 years and consider it our backyard. It's your backyard, too. It's a national treasure, just like Yosemite, the Sierras and Glacier National Park. It is to San Diego what Central Park is to New York City.

The title of my piece seems pretty far-fetched, doesn't it? Vampires swooping in to sink their fangs into a sunny Southern California patch of land that seems so idyllic.

By "vampires" I mean Sempra Energy in collaboration with Cogentrix Energy out of North Carolina. They want to rezone an Open-Space parcel of land adjoining Mission Trails Park into an industrial area, and then erect a Power Plant with eleven spewing smoke towers like some kind of Darth Vaderistic scene from hell.

There are already Sunrise Power Link towers lining some of the nearby ridges like ugly sentries, and perhaps because we allowed those to go in, the energy companies now think they can cruise through with this power-plant boondoggle.

I would like to now point you over to the following article that illustrates very well what is at stake, not just for Santee citizens, and not just for San Diego County, but for our nation.

"Why You Must Oppose the Quail Brush Power Plant"

Yes, insidious, isn't it, the fact they call it "Quail Brush Power Plant," as if it's a lovely, sultry aspect of nature. Aren't we all privy by now to the way language is used to the advantage of environmental ransackers: "The Clean Water Act" and "The Clean Air Act" are two that come to mind. Do they think we are so simple-minded as to believe it?

I know it's just one more battle among hundreds that we fight every day for what we believe in. But consider joining us in the fight to save Mission Trails. Together, we can stop this.

Here's the description of Mission Trails which you'll find at their website:

Mission Trails Regional Park encompasses nearly 5,800 acres of both natural and developed recreational acres. Its rugged hills, valleys and open areas represent a San Diego prior to the landing of Cabrillo in San Diego Bay in 1542. Centrally located and only eight miles northeast of downtown San Diego, Mission Trails Regional Park provides a quick, natural escape from the urban hustle and bustle. Mission Trails Regional Park has been called the third Jewel in the City of San Diego Park System. Along with Balboa Park and Mission Bay, it provides San Diego residents and visitors a way to explore the cultural, historical, and recreational aspects of San Diego. Started in 1974, Mission Trails Regional Park has become one of the largest urban parks in the United States. Originally used by the Kumeyaay, the park is the site of the Old Mission Dam, built to store water for the Mission San Diego de Alcala. With over 40 miles of trails, boating on Lake Murray, camping at Kumeyaay Lake, numerous informative hikes, and a state-of-the-art Visitor & Interpretive Center, Mission Trails Regional Park has something to offer everyone.

This is an SOS to everyone who cares about saving a place where the spirit loves to dance. It is a pristine natural area that should continue to stay this way, for our children, and future generations. Let us not sell out to the energy vampires.

If you live in San Diego, have ever been to San Diego, or dream of one day visiting San Diego, get involved in this issue. Stop the Santee Power Plant. The last thing we want to have to do is lie down in front of a bunch of bulldozers.

By the way, if you have no plans this evening, join us at the Mission Trails Visitors Center at 5 PM tonight for a community meeting to address this issue and take a stand.

The Young Dubliners Perform Foggy Dew - by Patty Mooney

Happy St. Patty's Day, everyone! This is a great time to share a video we shot and edited while we were visiting Ireland in March 2008. We joined a Young Dubliners tour and followed them to four different venues while making a dent in the Guinness kegs from Dublin to Shannon and back. My husband, Mark, used his "stealth" DV Camera, small and light. Also the lighting conditions were not the greatest (at night in dark night clubs) but you will see the essence of the performance. As editor, I mixed three of the Dubs' performances into this one piece.

According to Wikipedia, The song (also sometimes known as “Down the Glen”) has been performed and recorded by most well-known Irish folk groups, including The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem, The Dubliners, The Chieftains with Sinéad O'Connor, Shane MacGowan, and the Wolfe Tones. The song is also played before every set by the Dropkick Murphys and an Irish rock band known as the Young Dubliners have also done a cover. Sinéad O'Connor provided the vocals for a mournful version of the song on the Chieftains' 1995 collaboration album The Long Black Veil. It was also performed by the Italian Epic Metal band Wotan in their second studio album Epos.

The lyrics, which describe the 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin, follow:

The Foggy Dew

As down the glen one Easter morn

Through a city fair rode I.

There armed lines of marching men,

In squadrons did pass me by.

No pipe did hum, no battle drum,

Did sound out its loud tattoo.

But the angelus bell o’er the Liffey’s swell,

Rang out through the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin town

They flung out the flag of war.

‘Twas far better to die ‘neath an Irish sky,

Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.

And from the plains of royal Meath,

Brave men came hurrying through,

While Britannia’s Huns with their long-range guns,

Sailed into the foggy dew.

But the night fell black and the rifle’s crack,

Made perfidious Albion reel.

Through that leaden hail seven tongues of flame,

Did shine o’er the lines of steel.

By each shining blade a prayer was said,

That to Ireland her sons would be true,

And when morning broke, still the green flag shook out,

Its folds in the foggy dew.

It was England bade our Wild Geese go,

That small nations might be free.

But their lonely graves are by Suvla’s waves

On the fringe of the great North Sea.

Oh, had they died by Pearse’s side

Or had fought along with brave Cathal Brugha,

Their names we would keep where the Fenians sleep,

‘Neath the shroud of the foggy dew.

But the bravest fell and the requiem knell,

Rang out mournfully and clear,

For those who died that Eastertide

In the springtime of the year.

While the world did gaze with deep amaze,

At those fearless men and few,

Who bore the fight that freedom’s light,

Might shine through the foggy dew.

As back through the glen I rode again,

And my heart with grief was sore.

For I parted then with those gallant men,

I ever will see no more,

And to and fro in my dreams I go,

And I’ll kneel and I’ll say a prayer for you,

For slavery fled, oh you gallant dead,

When you fell in the foggy dew.

Stand-Off at Mission Trails - by Patty Mooney

We got a good mountain bike ride in on Sunday between rain showers. We San Diegans are reveling in the wetness because we have been suffering from drought conditions for oh, the last 25 or so years. Our "fire season" is now an annual event lasting several months during which we all stress and worry like the scarecrow on "Wizard of Oz." "Scared of a little fire, scarecrow?" screeches the Wicked Witch of the West. Um, yes.

Anyway, Mark and I hopped aboard our mountain bikes and rode into Mission Trails Park which is one of the largest urban park preserves in the United States, at nearly 5800 acres. There is always a feeling of giddy childishness as you swoop over the San Diego River (looking pretty full right now after all the rain) and begin the slow climb up towards the ridge. We bounded across mud and puddles and then we swerved left at the rusty barrels to ascend "Toby's Traverse," named for the man who shaped and built it to the tasty single track it is today.

Mark and I reached the top of the ridge then cruised along, stopping to look out at the surrounding views. Mark then pointed, saying, "Hey, do you see the coyote over there?"

"Where, where?"

"Over there! Look, there are two!"

I could almost make out two brown shapes against a palette of green, orange and browns. "Er, uh yeah."

Suddenly, they both started yipping like neighborhood watch dogs.

"Hee hee," Mark and I giggled. Then we yapped back.

We stood there chatting with the coyotes for the next few minutes, exchanging call for call. Then we boarded our mountain bikes, and sped towards them. Of course they immediately sprinted into the oak brush and disappeared. All fluff and bluff.

Still, it made our day. And adrenaline junkies that we are, we sped back down the whoop-de-doo trails, two gigantic grins on four wheels.

30 Valentines Days Together - by Patty Mooney

Mark and I would like to wish everyone a fantastic Valentines Day. Today is the 30th anniversary of the day we met, so it is a very special day for us. In honor of this beautiful day, I will share an excerpt from my memoirs about how Mark and I met.......

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On Valentines Day 1982, I stood on La Paloma’s theater balcony overlooking the empty seats before a play called ‘Pandora,' by Jack Barnard, was to begin. This play would be performed once only to raise funds for the World Hunger Project. The curtain would rise in twenty minutes. I’d better head to the dressing room. As I turned, my eyes caught those of a blonde man who was setting up a video camera. He grinned, the widest, most sparkly-eyed smile I’d ever seen. We moved towards each other, and shook hands in greeting.

“Hi, I’m Patty,” I told him.

“I’m Mark,” he replied. “Are you in the play?”

“Yes. One of the singers.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes, butterflies in my stomach. I hope I remember the words to all the songs!”

“You will if you want to.”

“I want to very badly! So you’re videotaping the event?”

“That’s right.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

The theater lights went off and on again.

“Well, I’ve got to go get ready,” I said. “I’ll come and chat during intermission.”

“That’d be nice. I’ll see you.” Mark pointed at his camera and winked.

By the time the curtain lifted, I was happily poised on a scaffold with eleven other robed singers. And the play began.

When the curtain descended for intermission, the audience applauded lavishly. I hurried back to the balcony where Mark was changing videotapes.

He looked happy to see me. “You did great,” he beamed.

“Well, thanks! How’s it going on the video? I bet your shoulders are sore.”

“You’re right about that.”

“Let me.” I moved behind him and massaged his neck and shoulders. As a masseuse, I knew that most people loved to be touched. Massage had also become a great communicating tool for me. “Does this hurt? Relax.”

He was putty by the time I finished. “Thanks!” he sighed.

“You’re welcome. Massaging another is like massaging myself, so I feel more relaxed now, too!”

“I’d be willing to relax you anytime!” he said, winking.

I smiled. “Are you coming to the cast party?”

“Unfortunately I made another commitment. My mom is having a get-together. She’s gone all out, making heart-shaped hamburgers and pink milk. I’d like to come, though.”

“Oh, it would have been fun. I’ve enjoyed talking to you. Well, I guess I’d better get backstage.” I almost walked away, but something magnetic about him caused me to turn and say, “Have you got a business card?”

“Yes, I do, right here.” He searched his vest pocket for one and handed it to me.

“Look, it’s the same shade of blue as mine!” I reached under my robe into my pocket, slid out a card and gave it to Mark.

“Yes” he said, “and look at the logos. Yours is a nautilus; mine’s a pyramid. Both symbolize the same idea: an infinite movement in, toward self-awareness.”

I noticed a crystal pyramid on a silver chain around his neck and reached to inspect it. “Isn’t this the same pyramid on your business card?”

“The idea for my logo did come from this crystal, yes.”

“Very interesting. You believe it contains magic?”

He smiled. “As much magic as I give it.”

The theater lights dimmed, signaling that intermission was over and “Pandora’s Box” must resume.

“I’d like to talk more about that sometime. See you later!” I said, squeezing his arm.

“Patty?”

“Yes, Mark?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s Day yourself!”

Patty and Mark are still living "happily ever after, 30 years later.....

Reminders of Spring - Happy Valentines Month! Photography by Patty Mooney

Happy Valentine's Month!