Italy 2026

Cremona!

I recently returned from our Milwaukee Mandolin Orchestra Italian concert tour! I will now proceed to write too much about it before I forget it all. And there are a lot of details that are only interesting to me, so feel free to skip ahead to the pretty pictures. (I won't mind.) Also, I probably should have broken this into separate posts by cities, but eh, instead it's one enormous post, so apologies.

I want to start by saying that the trip was worth all the hassle and expense. It was not a perfect trip, but enough parts of it were perfect that I will be forever grateful we got to do it. The hard parts will fade in time, but I prefer to remember things as they really were so I will jot it down here, problems and all.

The hard parts mostly involved logistics, which is not my strong suit, and I struggled in ways I found embarrassing. It was a lot of responsibility getting myself and my mom and my daughter all the places we needed to be in time, and I wish I could have performed better under duress. But we somehow did it and arrived home intact so apparently I managed, I would simply like to have done it with more grace.

Mona got sick. My mom got sick. Several members of the group got sick. By some miracle I did not get sick aside from one night toward the end of the trip where my throat was a little sore, but that hardly counts. (I credit needing a CPAP machine to sleep, so despite sharing a bed and a room with sick people, I think I avoided germs in the night by having to wear a mask with a filtered air system. Or maybe it was absolutely impossible for me to be the one who was sick so willpower won the day.)

Despite signing up for international roaming on my phone, that never kicked in. Mona's phone had access to data for a day and a half in Savona, but otherwise we were limited by where we could get wifi. My mom's phone had internet, but no access to the things I needed to communicate with others. That was complicated.

The trickiest part was three people traveling together who move at very different speeds. It was like Mona was set to 78, I was at 45, and Mom was at 33, and those tempos don't mesh. (I know only people my age or older are likely to know what that analogy even means, but my blog, my frames of reference.) I didn't really worry much about how slowly Mom needed to move on our previous trips because we spent a decent amount of time in each city. Venice only required getting around Venice, so we'd just plan ahead for how much time we needed to walk anywhere. Austria was only two cities, with a bit of getting in and out of Vienna at each end. This trip was too many cities to do comfortably. Getting around once we were in each one was okay, because we were back to simply calculating extra walking time. But plane and train connections don't care if you're slower. And moving between cities meant moving baggage.

I spent a lot of time counting to six every time we moved around. We had two rolling suitcases, two backpacks, a CPAP bag, and a mandola. There was occasionally an additional snack bag, etc., but the main six were the things that had to be kept track of or we'd have problems. So every time we moved out of a hotel--1 2 3 4 5 6--and then onto a train--1 2 3 4 5 6--then back off the train--1 2 3 4 5 6--then into a cab--1 2 3 4 5 6... For the most part Mona and I each carried three things and we'd try to keep track of Mom behind us. Mona kept dashing ahead even though I was supposed to be leading. My goofy knees mean I'm not fast, but going too slow is painful. We made for a strange, often bedraggled convoy on the streets of Italy.

The thing with Mom is that she has a heart thing going on with surgeries planned that we hope will help her breathing. For turning 84 this month, she's amazing. She's slow not because she isn't strong, it's that she gets out of breath and needs to stop frequently. But as I said, public transit doesn't care.

Me and Mom in her Detroit driveway.

The trip began with Mona and me driving to Detroit on Saturday, September 26th. Mom made us a great meal and we spent most of Sunday sorting through our stuff, checking plug converters and passports, etc. 

Sunday night we drove to a parking lot with a shuttle to the airport, found our plane, and did our best to sleep on the flight to Paris. 

 

Customs screening in Paris went smoothly, and we we pondered what the faces meant on the assistance sign. (Apparently it's mental or unseen issues. It looks weirdly sinister.)

We then switched to the plane to Milan and that flight went fine. Ian got me train tickets before I left, and we were looking for what we expected to be a bus from the airport to the train station, but that turned out to be a train. I always feel bad speaking in English to people in a country where that's not the language, but Italians were incredibly nice about it. I had to ask for help or clarification so many times when it came to trains. Our train to Turin wound up being almost two hours late, there are few benches in the Milan train terminal, and it took me a while to figure out the boards that tell you which track you should go to. 

View from the station, all we saw of Milan

 

Floor outside our hotel room

We were going to arrive late enough that we were going to miss our check-in at the hotel, so I managed to text Ian on Mom's phone and he was able to let the hotel know. When we arrived in Turin I found someone who explained where to look for a taxi. Thankfully taxis congregated in marked areas and you could just flag one. (I would have appreciated a system like that other places on our trip.) The cab dropped us outside a restaurant which confused me, but the Palazzo Bellezia Luxury Suite and Spa had an entry to the side and a restaurant in the front, and only the restaurant was still open. There was no one at the desk that late (it was now almost midnight on Monday the 28th), and they had left our room keys with the bar. We let ourselves in, figured out the pull-out bed for Mona, and called it a night.

This is where I want to talk about Heather. 

Now, the internet can be a nasty place, and we have a neighborhood Facebook page that can get pretty mean, but personally I have had some amazingly nice interactions there. When I'm looking for suggestions or help, it's often my best resource. The MMO's past European trips were less complicated. For Venice I found one Airbnb and Mom and I were set. In Austria we had accommodations with the group in the first city, and I only had to figure out a hotel in the second one, and one more in Vienna near the airport for our last night. This trip for me was overwhelming. There were three cities with concerts, all of which I had to find accommodations in, plus a trip at the end to Bomarzo and a night in Rome before our flight back to the US. I am eternally grateful that the group wound up chartering a bus for the trips between Turin and Cremona, and then Cremona and Savona. That might have broken me, because all of that would have involved trains probably back up to Milan and then down to the new places each time. As it was, there were still a lot of trains to figure out and places to stay and I wasn't sure how to manage it. So I asked our local FB group for suggestions, and found Heather.

Heather really likes planning trips, and does part-time travel agent work for people going to Japan, and said she'd be happy to help me figure out Italy details. I offered several times to pay her or at least take her to lunch, but she insisted this kind of thing was fun and she enjoyed it. I gave her locations of concerts so she could find hotels within easy walking distance for my mom, and I made life harder by saying Mona may or may not be coming with us. Heather was amazing. The only place she couldn't find us something was in Cremona, which worked out because that was the one city I had an Airbnb booked through a friend in the group who switched locations and thought a place with a pullout couch would work for us in case Mona came along. Every time we had an easy walk to something, my mom would say, "Heather did good." (Thank you, Heather.)

The luxury spa place in Turin was only a couple of blocks away from the Chiesa di San Dalmazzo where we were performing. Almost everyone else was staying at a hostel called Combo a bit farther away, which was where two of our rehearsals were. The place we stayed wins for the most strangely situated shower. It didn't have a door, and it mostly faced the bed. Mona wanted to shower the first night and decided even if Mom and I promised to turn our backs or stay in the other half of the room, it was too weird being that exposed and waited for another time. I did risk the shower that night, but was more concerned about the incredibly slick floors and wound up laying towels everywhere so I wouldn't slip and die. Other than the shower, the place was great. Very comfortable, the breakfast included in the restaurant downstairs was excellent, the staff could not have been nicer, and even though we didn't use the sauna or heated soaking pool in the basement, it was kind of fun to know it was there.

Unfortunately for Mona, this was where Turin started and ended. She went to bed that first night, and essentially stayed there until I woke her up to carry baggage to the bus a couple of days later. I thought at first she was really jet lagged, but then it was clear she was sick. I left bottled water by her bedside. I left food in the fridge for her to find while I was out. But I never saw her stir from the bed the whole time.

Our first morning in Turin I got up alone to eat breakfast and find my rehearsal. Without data on my phone, I had to study the map carefully before I left the hotel and then ask for guidance as needed. I got a bit lost, but in the best way, so I was able to wander some wrong and interesting directions. 

Turin is beautiful, but I was surprised by the size of the homeless population. I was not surprised by all the graffiti because that's part of Italy, but still found it disheartening. Although I admit, this one made me smile:

 

I never stop marveling at the juxtaposition between the new and the old. On my walk to rehearsal I passed a ruin of an ancient theater space that is still being used to do theater. There was a park with a pedestrian walkway with what may have been stones worn by chariots? The same space with the ancient wall was also a dog park. 

 

If anyone is interested, my rule of thumb for asking for directions while walking is to ask someone with a dog. First, because that's likely an area they live near and walk regularly so they'll know how to direct you, and second, because you get to maybe pet a dog. I got to pet some nice dogs in Turin.

After that morning rehearsal I went back to find Mom and check on Mona. I showed Mom what parts of the neighborhood I now knew and we grabbed some pizza at a place with outdoor tables. Our phones couldn't interpret the QR codes necessary to order food, and the pad they gave us was confusing, so we told them to bring us any two pizzas and they were great. (We took half of each back for Mona.) 

 

 

The difference between roads and pedestrian areas was tricky. There were lots of places where I didn't expect cars and they would suddenly appear. Once we were familiar with how it worked it was fine, but a bit nerve-wracking until we figured it out.

Cars came down on the side by the bike parking.

Mostly people, sometimes cars

After a brief rest at the hotel, Mom headed with me to Combo to meet everyone taking the tram to the place across town where the Turin mandolin orchestra rehearses. Thankfully we could tap a credit card on the tram instead of having to find tickets at a tobacco shop. 

The commute was a nice way to see average Italians getting around the city.

Italians are generally fashionable, fit, and amiable. Everyone walks. Everyone smokes. 

We started our rehearsal in the basement of a large building with just ourselves in order to work on our half of the program. After a couple of hours, we moved to the roof of the building where our host orchestra organized a lovely pot luck style dinner buffet. The view from our terrace of other apartments facing the courtyard looked like the setup for a play. After our meal, we moved on to a different room downstairs where we set up as a combined orchestra. 

  

 

 

 

When we play events with another group, we send each other pieces to do as a combined ensemble. We sent them Flying Wedge (which is an old football inspired song from the early days of American mandolin orchestras), and they sent us the theme to the movie Life is Beautiful. There is often a bit of adjustment for us as the mandola section in these situations, because in Europe they play octave mandolins instead. My mandola is the equivalent of a viola, with strings tuned to C, G, D, and A. An octave mandolin is the equivalent of a violin tuned down an octave with strings still tuned to G, D, A, and E. Which means we don't have as many notes to go down to on the bottom end, and our instruments are louder since we're playing in a higher register. It takes a while to make adjustments. 

The Turin group had two octave mandolin players, and they divided up into one playing the mandocello part, and the other the mandola part. I got the impression they found Flying Wedge to be a lot. Once we sorted out in which octave to play Life is Beautiful, we ended up with just me from our group playing along with their mandola-part player for the slower intro and coda sections of the piece since they had it marked as a solo, and we'd been working on it as a section. Their style of playing was different, in that they tremolo absolutely everything, and we tend to only tremolo notes of a certain length or more for clarity. They spent Flying Wedge marking sections where they needed to reduce down to single notes, and I spent those solo sections of Life is Beautiful mostly trying to copy the style of the person I was playing with.

Our mandola section for this tour was five people, all of whom have string orchestra experience, and all of whom read alto clef, so we were mighty! Three of us were regular Milwaukee players, and we had our two ringers from Texas and North Carolina who practice with us before these trips on Zoom. I loved having both Tonia and Kristin to play with in person.

A new fun thing! Several players in the Turin orchestra had special sleeves on their right forearms to make pressing against the top edge of the instrument more comfortable. The octave mandola player next to me showed us hers was just a sock with the foot cut off! She lent me a cute stripey one, and promised to bring both me and Tonia sleeves in concert black for the next night.

 

Rene conducted two of the joint pieces, the other conductor did one. None of us spoke Italian, and few of the Turin group spoke English, but everyone spoke music, so it was a good rehearsal. The room was packed and practice ran late, and at one point I lost track of my mom until Rene apparently spotted her sitting on the floor and scooped her into a chair.

We had a good tram ride and walk back to the hotel. 

 

The next morning after breakfast and before rehearsal, Mom and I went to find the church where the concert was going to be that evening so I wouldn't have to be worried about getting lost. It turned out to be very close, and was on a vibrant street that was nice to explore. Lovely surprises around every corner.

 

 

 

 

I didn't think Mom needed to attend yet another rehearsal, so she went on her own adventure. An orchestra friend had mentioned she took a tour of a nearby monastery that was the setting for the novel The Name of the Rose, which is one of my Mom's favorite books. The man at the hotel desk was able to arrange a car and driver for her, and that's where she spent the early part of the day. It was apparently beautiful, and I wish I could have gone, but there was rehearsing to do. (And Mona was still asleep.)

After rehearsal I found a small grocery store and picked us up food supplies and bottled water. After a small break, I went off to the church to rehearse. I had to dash back at a break to change into concert black and grab my mom, so it helped we weren't far.

Wow!

The church was stunning, and had a beautiful wavy pillar that I don't quite understand but it may be my favorite pillar. If you're in Turin and have the chance to stop into Chiesa di San Dalmazzo, I recommend it. And across the street is a tiramisu place called Wow! that Mom and I indulged in, and I recommend that, too.

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

The concert started at 9. All the evening concerts started at 9. All the concerts began with too much talking (but maybe it just felt that way since it was all in Italian). We also saw families with small children out and about after 10 at night, so the Italians operate on a very different schedule. I think I could get used to it with a nap in the middle of the day, but at this stage of my life I kind of want any outside activities over and done with by 8 at the latest. (Because I am old and old is fine.) 

The concert went well! There were so many people in attendance they had to add more seats wherever they could find space. The Turin group played first, then after a brief intermission our group performed, and then we combined the two orchestras for our two numbers and ended with the Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor featuring Carlo Aonzo as the soloist.

 

A highlight of the event for me was that a lutherie-land friend, Philip Kass, was able to attend. He messaged me when he saw me posting pictures from Turin, and said he was also there doing research. I gave him our concert details, and when he arrived, Rene installed a seat for him up front practically in the mandola section. Afterward he shared a wealth of information with me about the development of the mandolin in Italy, and said it was delightful to hear the different styles and repertoire of the two orchestras. It's always more fun playing with people you know in the audience, so what an unexpected treat to have that happen so far from home.

Mom and I walked back to our hotel where we spent time packing for the morning departure.  

On Thursday, October 1st, we grabbed a little breakfast in the hotel and then poor Mona helped drag our stuff to the bus where she promptly went back to sleep on the trip to Cremona.

The arrival in Cremona was stressful. The bus let us out in one of two different spots in the city, and we got off at the second one which was closer to our Airbnb. Mom and Mona and I stood in a parking lot with our luggage and weren't sure what to do next. I didn't know how to call a cab, and I needed to get my bearings, so we found a sandwich shop that was nice enough to share their wifi, and we camped out at a back table. It was a good place to use the bathroom and get some food and water. Mona was still sick, so she simply put her head down. I used the wifi to draw a map. My life on this trip was mostly little maps. 

I left Mom and Mona to go out and figure out where the first street on my map was and which direction to head. A guy doing work on a wall helped me find a guy in a salon who walked me down the street and around a corner to a young woman who spoke some English and helped clarify things on my map. I went back and collected my mom and daughter and we started dragging all the luggage in what I hoped was the right direction. It was slow and confusing and the sidewalks were narrow and the crosswalks were set back from the corners which added extra steps. The pace we moved in general was roughly three or four times whatever the internet estimate was, and this walk was supposed to be about 25 minutes, which meant conserving steps was important.

I wasn't sure what we would do when we got to the Airbnb since we were supposed to contact them to let us in. Luckily we ran into our friends Laurie and Glenn, and Laurie was undaunted by phoning someone in Italy, and she was able to let our host know we were on our way. Unfortunately we vastly underestimated the amount of distance remaining and Laurie reported we were about ten minutes away. It wound up being more like 45 minutes, so I got anxious about being late. It was hot, the luggage was heavy, and I was concerned for Mona who really needed to lie down, and my mom who needed to catch her breath. Not my favorite part of this trip.

I wish I were better at certain parts of travel, but when I do not know where I will be sleeping later, I become anxious. Once I have a home base, I can explore and relax and enjoy everything. Until then, I am not much fun, so I felt bad that Mom and Mona had to put up with me, but it was what it was.

It reminded me of the other time I was in Cremona in 1994. I was on a trip to Italy with my parents and brothers, and (my then boyfriend) Ian joined us about halfway through and the two of us did a side trip to Cremona. Back then we had a physical guidebook to help find things, and there were train delays because of strikes, and we arrived in town after dark and uncertain about the hotel. We were hungry and tired and I remember thinking the neighborhood looked sketchy. But we made it to our place and found an open Chinese restaurant, and in the morning light I realized the scary street we'd walked down had a Rolex shop. So, yeah, apparently I need a sense of security in order to see things properly. 

I tried to ask another person for directions when we hit a confusing section where one road dipped under another road and I wasn't sure if there was a pedestrian path there or not. The man wasn't able to help, but we figured it out, and a couple of blocks farther along, the man reappeared with someone who may have been his wife, and she tried to help. I was pretty sure I was going the right way at that point, and trying to communicate with her was slowing us down, but it was so incredibly sweet. I can't believe they went out of their way like that to try and help some random lost people. The Italians were generous and lovely. There were exactly two we didn't like, but I'll get to them later.

The map sent us on a walking route that wasn't that pedestrian friendly, but we trudged on, until I got confused again and tried to ask more people. I kind of plunked Mom and Mona in a spot while I wandered all over the last few blocks until I knew what I was doing. The host had been there and left to pick up her kids, and returned right as we were arriving, so that worked out. She gave us the key, a fob to unlock the gate to the courtyard, showed us around the apartment, handed us bottles of water, and told us we needed to leave 27 euros for city tax on the table before we left. When I asked about taxis she laughed, and then we were on our own.

The place was nice, and exactly what we needed. The pullout bed was already set up, and Mona crawled in and was done for the day. We had a kitchen, a washer and dryer, wifi, a shower with a door... The location wouldn't have been ideal for many because it was way outside the center of town, but was only a ten minute walk to the convention center where our first performance was, and where we'd be leaving from, so for us it was great.

  

 

A few people had their accommodations cancel on them right before our trip because Cremona had been hit with severe hail storms a couple of weeks earlier. There was still a lot of evidence of it in the form of downed trees still being removed, and dimpled car roofs and tattered awnings.

After we were settled into the Airbnb and my nerves were calmed down, I went out by myself to figure out what was in the area and how to get where we needed to go the next day. The big event happening in Cremona that weekend was Mondomusica. It's a giant upscale instrument convention with lots of vendors and concerts, and I have always assumed it took place downtown somewhere. I get notifications in my email about it every year. But no, it's in a huge convention center called CremonaFiere on the outskirts of the city. I drew myself a map and followed the suggested (not great) route, found the event entrance, and then as the sun was setting I found a better route back home that would be easier for my mom the next day. That route included a pizza shop, where I stopped in and ordered two of whatever pizzas they felt like making.

 

The people in the pizza place (like everywhere) were incredibly nice. I asked where I could find supplies like laundry soap and groceries, and they gave me an address and directions to a market called Penny. It happened to be along the path we took to get to the Airbnb earlier, so I was able to picture it easily. I returned with pizza, and a plan for the morning that included a coffee shop stop on the way to the convention center. 

 

In the morning I left for the grocery store before anyone was up and bought bottled water, snacks, and laundry soap. (Among the snacks were "Cosmic Crisp" apples, which came in a four pack and were delicious. We added Cosmic Crisp apples to various grocery stops around Italy.) It was about twenty minutes there, twenty minutes in the Penny market, and twenty minutes back. I got to appreciate the neighborhood finally, now that I wasn't trying to rush through it in frustration. The park where I at one point suggested Mom and Mona wait while I rushed ahead to find our place turned out to be an elementary school, and I got to see kids being dropped off. I got to experience how the train crossing functioned for pedestrians. I found us an easier walking path for any repeat trips. An industrial sort of area we'd passed through turned out to have a gym with classes for both adults and kids. The whole area outside our place smelled like cheese danishes in the morning.

 

 

Mona was still too sick to leave her bed the first real day in Cremona, so Mom and I headed to Mondomusica without her. We stopped at a little corner bar/restaurant a third of the way there, but it turned out they didn't serve food that early in the day. We ordered coffee and juice, and then a moment later the man appeared with a small complimentary plate of bread and ham, which was incredibly kind. My phone's refusal to connect anywhere meant I didn't have access to the link I needed to access our convention passes, but after some time with someone at the events entry, she was able to print us out the tickets we needed.

 

Mondomusica was a lot. I loved seeing people I know, like the always pleasant group at Strad Magazine, and it was nice to chat with vendors I already work with. I bought tools! I broke my favorite mouse-tail file right before I left for Italy, so I was happy to replace it. I got to look through some beautiful books and see some nice instruments. But a lot of it is spectacle and it's loud and exhausting. I've been to enough violin conventions before that I wasn't starstruck by the whole thing. It mostly felt like being back at work.

 

The Kremer Pigments booth was one of my favorites. It's a place I've ordered from, but never visited, so to see everything on display was a treat. And I got myself a souvenir with my name on it. They had the cutest muller for grinding pigments labeled "Klein." I'm not sure how useful it will be compared the the standard muller I use in my shop, but how could I not get a Klein muller?

The food court was pretty good. A lot of eating on the fly in Italy wound up being some form of ham and bread, and I managed to grab the last panini at a particular stand during the break after rehearsal. There was also good gelato to be had, and crepes with Nutella.

One of the awkward things about navigating Italy on a musician's schedule rather than as a vacation, was often our breaks didn't align with when restaurants were open. I know my mom envisioned treating me to lots of nice meals in restaurants, but it wasn't possible much of the time. 

The stage at Mondomusica was pretty tight, and there was a lot of sound bleeding through from other spaces. Not my favorite concert of this tour by any means, but always fun to play together.

The fun thing about Mondomusica that was different from the violin conventions I'm accustomed to, is it was bigger than violins. There was a huge guitar room with ergonomic picks and special files for your nails along with all manner of fretted instruments I wasn't familiar with. There were accordions. There was everything.

View from bridge of train tracks

After our noon rehearsal, and a break to eat and wander, we had our concert at 3:15, and then Mom and I wandered back to our place. We got there to discover Mona had eaten half the leftover pizza, thrown it up, then ate the rest and was finally feeling better. Progress! 

 

There was a concert going on in the Violin Museum downtown in the evening, and I wasn't sure how to get there other than walk, but Mom said it was fine for me to go on my own. I did one more trip to the Penny market for water and snacks so there would be food in the apartment for everyone, and then I started the walk downtown. It was confusing in the dark. I kept walking back and forth along the cemetery trying to find my way over the train tracks, and eventually figured it out. The spaces under the overpass facing the cemetery contained businesses that were still open, including a bar/restaurant, a monument company, and a funeral organizer. I really liked the literal liveliness of the bar across from the cemetery. 

 

Walking alone in Italy at night felt less fraught than it does in the US. Most places are well lit, and there are still families out quite late. I passed a high school that was having some kind of sports practice in their gym. More stores were open than I would have expected.

 

 

The Violin Museum is grand, and they spared no expense in the concert hall I went to. It was constructed of maple curves designed to mimic the interior of wooden instruments. 

Always good to run into friends!

 

 

The first thing on the program was a guitarist who was wonderful, and Carlo's quartet played beautifully, but it was late, the seats were soft, and I realized I was not going to make it past the halfway point without falling asleep. Tonia and her mom also looked rather tired, so we all slipped out during another round of talking between pieces. They had figured out the taxi service (which they suspected was one guy and his brother alternating shifts) and had working phones, so I was able to hop on board with them and take the cab after they were dropped off. I did a load of laundry for both me and Mona and went to bed.

The next day was our first chance to explore Italy together as a group since Mona was finally feeling more like herself. We had all day to wander in Cremona before my having to do soundcheck in the square downtown at 7 with our concert time at 9. I had to wear my concert clothes and carry my mandola and music, etc., but aside from that we were free for a change! We repeated the route I figured out the night before and slowly made our way to the Violin Museum, stopping along the way to rest and enjoy the architecture.

At the museum Mom got to enjoy a cup of coffee in the courtyard. I looked around the bookshop. Mona wandered outside. Eventually we decided to check my things in a locker and go see the musuem.
 

The museum is beautiful, but strangely lacking.

They spent a ton of money, and they have amazing things and lots of resources, but it does a bad job of explaining anything. I will admit, I did not do the audio tour or use the QR codes scattered about, but I feel like there should be information right there along the displays. You can argue that people don't like to read anymore, but I would say in a museum where people have chosen to come to learn, that's silly. And many of the displays were all style and no substance that left people confused. I found myself explaining everything (like a giant video of a sort of MRI slice by slice view passing through an instrument body from the endblock to the neck joint that my mom couldn't figure out at all until I walked her through what was happening) and that shouldn't have been necessary.

There was high tech stuff that didn't accomplish anything. For instance, there was a large display with screens where you could pull an acrylic brick from a table and place it flat on a glowing surface, and then the screen would sketch out an image. But the image was useless. Mona likes to repeat how now she knows about "Soundpost and Bass Bar" because one of those screens would show you a sketch of the inside of a violin, and then a soundpost would appear, and after a moment a bass bar would appear. That's it. But what are they? What are they made of? What do they do? Nothing about any of that. 

If I were making such a display, I would tell people how the soundpost is made of spruce, the same way the top plate is, and that the grain lines have to be oriented perpendicular the grain lines of the top otherwise they would be in danger of interlocking and making the post hard to adjust. That's information the average player doesn't know about their instrument, and they would like to. You know the number one thing I would teach players in such a museum? Where the soundpost goes and how it gets there. They have no idea, and worry when it's not directly under the bridge sometimes, and I have to explain it's not supposed to be. They would love to know where we place the post and what it's doing. And they are always curious about how we get a post in there. I would have a hands-on display with a violin body and a post setter and let people try. Or if you have to go high tech, make a virtual soundpost setter and see if they can get a virtual post to stand up like the world's most specific video game. Maybe something showing how moving the post impacts the sound and let them experiment. That would be fun and useful. But no, it was all just "Soundpost and Bass Bar." 

 

There was another table screen where you could flip the image of an instrument around and open and close it, but again, no explanations, just a silly thing to do simply to do it. And continuing on about "Soundpost," if I weren't a luthier, I would assume from all the displays that the soundpost was a fixed structural element of a violin. I wouldn't know it gets routinely replaced and adjusted and is not glued in. All the high tech displays made it look permanent. 

 

I did run into a small group from the orchestra who asked in the hall of great instruments if I had anything to share, so I did! Not as much as I knew, but stories and facts I thought people would enjoy. For instance, not a single instrument in that room had its original neck set. The average person would assume all those violins were exactly as they have been since they were made, but they have all been altered for modern playing. Those details are interesting. I showed them how distorted the f-holes become over time on the treble side of the instruments because of soundpost tension. I pointed out my favorite "flaw" in a stunning Strad that I have a poster of at home. So much interesting information that people would want to know and learn! None of it readily offered or explained. It felt like a missed opportunity.

There was a great example of an original neck set in a different room that would have made a excellent comparison side by side with instruments in the other room. Wouldn't that be cool to have a point by point list of what's different and why it got changed? How those changes impacted what composers could offer and players could do? The average visitor would think this violin was completely different from the ones they saw down the hall, and not how all of those originally looked and functioned. 

 

I don't mean to sound so critical. It's a very pretty place. They have incredible drawers of Stradivari's tools and templates. They had some fabulous instruments. I even got to see a violin by a maker I know from Michigan in the modern instrument display area. I'm glad I went and got to see some beautiful things. But it's disheartening to see displays dedicated to subject matter I know is fascinating and have it reduced to something superficial, and frankly, boring. They made lutherie look both inaccessible and dull, rather than offer people the opportunity to know how what they were seeing connects to today. (I would do it differently. I would make it fun. But they didn't ask me.)

This was a del Gesu from 1734 named "The Stauffer." I didn't know anything about Walter Stauffer until this visit to Cremona and saw his name on a street sign on my walk to downtown and looked him up. He was Swiss, but born in Italy, and in 1969 donated the money used for the violin making school in town. (His wikipedia page is worth a read!)

The lighting in the instrument hall was poor. I told my friends how usually in exhibits like this you can spot the luthiers, because they bring flashlights. (This Bergonzi was gorgeous but hard to see well.)

The drawers could only be opened by a museum worker. For some reason the same person also ran the elevator which we weren't allowed to use alone.

Instrument by David Burgess of Ann Arbor

After the museum, I was hoping to walk over to the Stradivari museum somewhere nearby to see his statue that is apparently missing a hand. But again we went in search of food at a time when no one was serving food. We ran into Jim from orchestra and got some drinks in an outdoor cafe.

 

Eventually we wandered over to the main square in front of the church and bell tower. (The tallest bell tower in Italy!) That area had a few sandwiches and a really delicious cheese plate. Jim, by coincidence, also happened to have exactly 27 euros that we could use to pay the city tax the next day at our place. Our stage was set up in the enclosed square opposite the church.

Jim and Laurie! Among many friends we found in the square

Mona, whose full first name is Cremona, rightly decided to order the Cremona while in Cremona.

The soundcheck was a little goofy, because for whatever reason there were only three mics. I got shuffled into the middle so a mandocello could have a chance at being heard. I honestly didn't care where I sat. I was just really excited to get to play a concert in that space. I still can't believe I got to play in that square in Cremona!

Mona and I wandered for a little bit during the break and found a nativity scene in a violin case, and also peeked inside the church.

We also took a moment as an orchestra to get a group picture. We're notoriously bad at remembering to get a good group shot in some of our prettier venues.

 

Silly shots are easier to come by.

Speaking of silly shots, another lutherie-land friend came to this concert!

 

Ben Hebbert, violin dealer and expert was in from Oxford to attend Mondomusica. He's lovely. I try never to miss his lectures at the VSA when he gives them. (He also agreed the Violin Museum was boring. He would definitely be able to make it more engaging if someone asked.) Ben came armed with a camera, took some excellent shots of our concert that I can't figure out how to add here, and said we sounded great. I can't believe he came! Made my night. 

 

Ben also shared some fascinating information with me and Mona about the often overshadowed baptistery. He said it was used for mass baptisms at a time of heavy immigration when anyone who was not baptized couldn't enter the church. He said it's his favorite building in the square because the catenary curve of the ceiling is similar to how a violin is carved inside, and the building itself is like an instrument. The echo in the baptistery is apparently about seven seconds, and he said he and a friend once recorded in there and incorporated the echo as another voice. How amazing is that? He also told us the freeway that circles Cermona is essentially where the wall around the city used to be. Mona and I could have listened to Ben all night, but there was a concert to play.

After the concert, a friend ordered us a cab, and we were able to head home with lots of time to pack. Mona and I also took a walk back to the pizza place nearby, partially because I was still hungry, and partially because it was a nice night to get out and walk. The shop was closing, but they said they could throw in one more pizza for me. They asked how the concert went and I showed them a short clip. I thanked them again for the directions to the Penny market. 

 

And then I don't remember exactly how the question got asked about if they liked living there, and the nice young man who had been helping me said, "No, I hate it here." That surprised me, but not Mona. Once you've exhausted the things that interest tourists, you have to look honestly at the daily lifestyle. From a young person's point of view, there's not much to do there, and it's boring. From an older person's point of view, there's not much to do there, and it's relaxing. My mom could easily picture a quiet routine in a beautiful spot with time to drink coffee and read and draw and enjoy good food. I understood why Mona couldn't picture that with the same wistfulness. The pizza guy said Cremona is pretty, but small, and the air quality in the winter is bad enough from the metal manufacturing facilities that many people stay inside. Mostly he said there was nothing to do, and he'd happily go anywhere else. I've thought a lot about that conversation. I feel fortunate that I've never hated anywhere I've lived.

The next day, Sunday October 4th, we needed to be on the bus at Mondomusica by 4 to leave for Savona. Our checkout from the Airbnb was at 11. So we stripped the beds and cleaned up as best we could (so many water bottles) and figured out how to open the timed gate with our key fob and still leave it inside the apartment. We slowly walked to the convention center, stopping again for a coffee at the same little shop, and getting Mona a printed ticket outside the events entrance. Eventually we decided the best place to wait with all the luggage was back in the Classic Stage room where we had performed on Friday, and watch performances. We got to see participants in Carlo's workshop play, and then the Turin orchestra performed! It was nice to see them again, and to our delight their opening number was Flying Wedge! I love the idea that they've adopted this old American piece into their repertoire.

 

I was able to show Mona around a little of the convention. Primarily I wanted her to see Vera Frey's booth, because everything about her was charming. When she's not making instruments, she also makes wooden toys. I loved her creativity and attention to detail.

The bus ride was beautiful. A lot of tunnels, but a lot of coastline to make up for it. I sketched myself out a map to get to the hotel when we arrived in Savona, and beside the fact that Google maps was unaware the bridge they wanted me to use was out for the season, we were able to find it okay with only asking one person for directions.

The one thing I didn't get a picture of in Savona that I was hoping to see again but didn't, was the street lines. In the downtown area where the bus dropped us off, all the crosswalks, etc., were made from pieces of white marble.

 

 

Heather did really well with this hotel. We were in the NH Savona Darsena, the pull-out bed was all set up, they gave us cookies, we had a balcony, and breakfast was included. The location was great, right on a marina, and easy walking distance to everything we needed. 

Mona went to bed, and Mom finally got to treat me to a proper dinner a minute's walk from the hotel.

View from our balcony

 

 

The only thing on the agenda on Monday was a group dinner at Osterio Bacco at 8. A whole day with no rehearsals and no travel! A sorely needed break! I did a brief online search to see what might be worth a visit in Savona, and landed upon the ceramics museum which was open until 1.

Mom and I enjoyed a nice breakfast in the hotel, and my only quibble with it was that there were packets on the table that I assumed were salt and pepper. I added salt to my eggs, then added pepper that looked like more salt. I finally read (and translated) the packets, which turned out to be white sugar, and brown sugar, neither of which taste good on eggs. (Funny the assumptions you make, but I guess salt and pepper are more an American thing on a restaurant table.)

Also confusing in Italy was the garbage. There were five categories of garbage everywhere, even in the Airbnb. In Cremona I wanted to throw out a pair of underwear, and I had to think a while before choosing a bin. At least in Savona there was a bin that literally had a picture of underwear on it (alongside a comb and a Teddy bear), so I was reassured I'd made the right call.

We wandered roughly in the direction of the museum. Every wrong turn was interesting. There was a huge number of motorcycles parked in one area, and it made us feel at home to spot a Harley.

 

Savona had a lot of trompe-l'oeil on its buildings side by side with walls that had actual 3D features. It's a place that successfully blends the old and the new. It's a beautiful city to wander. 

 

Not real stones

All painted features

 

 

A carved section on top of a painted section

 

The ceramics museum is in a very old building with a complicated history, and they did a good job of preserving original elements while also creating a modern environment to house their collection. Among old things, we particularly liked a room of containers all made in 1666 for a hospital, and a six pack for cooling bottles. Among new things, the infinity room was effective.

 

 

Guidebook didn't share who hated this guy's face

How cute is this?!

St Paul was on everything for his eponymous hospital

 

 

I feel the need to say that just because something is old, doesn't make it good. I see that in the violin shop all the time, where people are impressed that a violin is old so they assume it's valuable. It can be both old and bad. It can have been bad from the start, and there can be something to be learned from the fact that it's old, but that in and of itself doesn't require people to revere it in my opinion. And some things are better at a distance, like this ceiling.

 

 

 Quite dazzling to stumble upon! But then look too closely and what is it?

 

And these horses?

 

I think someone else did the work around the edges because that was far better.

 

 

Mona thought I was being too harsh, and maybe time and bad restoration took a toll, but I honestly think some artists tasked to do stuff aren't very good in every age. 

 

Near the ceramics museum was Savona's version of the Sistine Chapel. Apparently a pope from there decided to have it built for his parents. What a beautiful space. (That's where the expensive artists were working. The ones with pope money.)

 

 

Even the floor grates were pretty

 

 

We started to walk toward the fort when we ran into Lou from orchestra heading the other direction with his mandolin. Apparently there were sectionals happening, but the word only went out on WhatsApp, which I couldn't access. I often function as section leader, so I figured a sectional couldn't be happening for the mandolas without my knowing about it, but who knew? We decided to head back to our hotel where there was wifi and I could check in with other people. Apparently the mandolas had all chosen "independent study" and were going to practice whatever they needed to on their own. Excellent. Plus our section rocked, and we didn't need a sectional.

 

The break at the hotel turned out to be the perfect thing. Mom took a nap. Mona took a break. I went out on the balcony to work on Bluegrass Review (and also look a little at music for an upcoming Festival City Symphony concert that would have been much easier with a bow). It was a nice to be off our feet and relax.

There were a lot of truly special moments on this trip. But if I had to pick a favorite, it might be when Mona came out on the balcony to sit and listen to me practicing. She didn't bring her phone. She just sat and listened. (It doesn't take much to make a mom happy I guess, but it was a really nice moment.)

Science!

Once we were all rested up, we headed to the fort, which was an easy walk from where we were staying. At first we got confused by some odd science displays inside the entrance and rode an elevator to nowhere, but eventually found a path that took us to the top. What a tremendous view! Savona is a lovely place.






Everything is so old in Italy that many interesting old ruins are built on top of other interesting even older ruins. The fort overlooks a medieval city center. There were good information signs on the site, but with confusing kerning.

 

 

There was some sort of display partway up the fort about birds, and I just loved that this bird had anti-bird spikes on it!

 

 It was a bit of a hike, but worth it, and somehow the way down was much quicker than expected.

 

 

My favorite rock in the entrance path

That tall green building in the middle here is next door to where our hotel was.

 

We stopped at a small grocery store to resupply our snack bag and get water. I mention this only because I thought it was funny when I got to the checkout with my six-pack of water the cashier looked at my American self and said, "No no, frizante." I had grabbed the sparkling water instead of the "natural" kind, and she knew that was wrong without having to ask and waited while I went back and switched it.

The group dinner was great. It's too bad there isn't a good way for the whole orchestra to all get to talk together, but the company at our table was excellent. On our way out of the hotel to walk to the restaurant, it started to rain. One of the nice parts of being in a good hotel was being able to ask the desk for umbrellas, which they happily provided. The rain turned out to be almost nothing rendering the umbrellas useless, but I did appreciate the option.

 

Other observations: There was a mermaid sculpture in the ceramics museum that we realized that night was repeated along the marina near us. Not sure which was a copy of which.

 

 Also, bottles in the EU have caps that stay attached. Sensible, but awkward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Tuesday morning, Mona stuck around the hotel and Mom and I decided to have a little breakfast then walk to the beach. We stuck our feet in the sea and collected rocks.

 

 

We found a nice little place outside that was serving real food at a time we wanted to eat, so that was lovely. We admired the buildings and the perfect trees.

 

 

More painted details mixed with real ones

After a nice little break back at the hotel for me to change into concert clothes, we all headed over to Chiasa di sant'andrea apostolo del comune for a rehearsal at 4:30.

What a privilege to get to play in that church. It was built in the 11th century by Jesuits who were interested in acoustics, so we sounded amazing in there. It was absolutely gorgeous. 

After a couple of hours of rehearsal, we were treated to a snack buffet at a small bar right outside the church. There was enough time between snacks and our 8:30 call time for the 9:00 concert to take some friends back to our hotel for a bathroom break.

Apparently we were the finale in a series of mandolin concerts for that summer. Carlo Aonzo is from Savona, which is why he was interested in having us add it to our tour.

I did have to laugh when Fred gave his always funny and informative spiel (with Carlo translating) about the history of mandolin orchestras in America, and he held up his instrument explaining it dated back to the 1920s. That gets an appreciative reaction in Milwaukee, but in Italy, that isn't old. They may have thought he was showing off how new it was.

I think the Savona concert was far and away our most successful performance ever. The place was packed. The mayor of Savona was there in the front row. The crowd gave us a standing ovation even before they found out Carlo was going to perform the Vivaldi A Minor Concerto as a bonus piece. We played well, the energy of the audience was wonderful, the acoustics and setting were excellent, and as our last performance in Italy we simply had fun. Music is always best when everyone is having fun.

 

There are some nice recordings of us during this concert. This is not one of them. Mona watched from up in the balcony and filmed us playing Tango of the Roses, and it's hilarious. 

 

The only sad part about the concert was that was where we said our goodbyes as an orchestra. Some people were heading home the next day. Several of us were staying on in Italy to enjoy a little travel free of rehearsals. The next part of our adventure was to head to Bomarzo.

When I told Mom we'd be returning to Italy, she asked if we could add Sacro Bosco in Bomarzo to the trip. She's wanted to go there since she saw a magazine piece about it in 1965 and still has the article. How could we not go?

Getting there was tricky, and this was our most complicated travel day. We enjoyed our last breakfast in the hotel, and had the desk call us a cab to take us to the train station about ten minutes away. The driver was scammy. He was the first person we hadn't liked on the whole trip. When he found out we were from America, he mentioned Trump. I said Trump was terrible, but I got the impression he found that amusing. Then he asked us about paying in cash, which we were not prepared to do and I got worried. He didn't speak much English, but kept saying something about how 140 was a fair price, but he would charge 110. I think he meant there was a discount for cash, but we didn't have cash, so it was irrelevant. Maybe he thought we weren't telling the truth? He kept repeating this thing about the fair price and his price, and I got really confused about if he was offering to drive us to the destination directly rather than use the train, but we already had tickets. Who knows? When he dropped us at the station, he charged our card for 170. He also didn't help us get our bags out of the trunk.

 

There was confusion trying to figure out how to get to the right platform in the station. There was no elevator, so we dragged luggage up stairs to the wrong place first, then back down, then we had to scramble to get to the right place in time to catch our train to Genova. In Genova there was the confusing transfer to the train to Rome. The only part of this day I liked was that Mona asked to rest against me for a good portion of the several hour trip. We ate down the last of our snacks. We admired scenery. 

Rome was where it got ridiculous. We had less than ten minute to get from the end of track 23 at one end, to the very far end of platform 1 to find track 2est at the other. It was not possible, and we did it as efficiently as we could do, having all our luggage in hand when the train stopped and having Mom move as quickly as she was able. (I'm sure she needed to stop for part of that trek and somehow soldiered on anyway.) We found the track, the train long gone. We called Ian on Mom's phone, and he managed to buy us new tickets and send the QR codes to her phone. Thankfully the new train to Puglia that we needed was on the same track and we didn't have to try to drag the luggage anywhere else. (This seems like an apt time to mention that with all the trains we took in Italy from local trams to long distance trains, someone checked our tickets exactly once.)

 

That train took us to Orte as it was getting dark. Next was trying to figure out taxis again, which I got a man at the ticket counter to arrange for me. I suggested we pick up more food at the snack counter, but Mom wanted to hold out for a "nice dinner" even though that seemed like a gamble to me since we didn't know what would be available where we were going. 

This brings us to the even worse cab driver of the day. If I could go back and yell at him I would. He didn't speak any English, but I showed him the address, which had a Vrbo name. Airbnb type places have an address, and a descriptive title. (The Airbnb we used to run was called something like "Apartment above the Violin Shop.") We wanted "Manin 6, La Casetta." So he typed stuff into his phone and drove us for almost half an hour to Bomarzo, and then stopped on the side of a narrow road. I asked where the place was, and he gestured vaguely around. Before I let Mom and Mona take stuff out of the cab, I wandered up the first place he pointed, and found nothing. Everything was dark and quiet, and there were lots of little entrances tucked away, but nothing labeled "6" or "La Casetta." I came back and said, "Where?" and he gestured down some stairs. I walked that way and eventually saw a door that had the number 6 on it, but no obvious lock box as we were expecting. I asked again about "La Casetta" and he pointed to a sign that said something like "Casa del Sole." He insisted this was it, and left us in the dark with our luggage by the side of the road. He knew it was wrong. I'm not sure how he lives with himself, leaving my mom with her walking stick there at night.

 

We found a spot to sit, tried in vain to figure out how to get into the place we though might be it, and eventually pulled up the address on Mom's phone which said it was about a ten minute walk away. For us that was going to be almost an hour, and the road had essentially no sidewalk. One of the problems with Google Maps is there is nothing about elevation. Bomarzo was a whole lot of vertical things going on. So at one point we figured we were close, and Mona (being the one with the good knees) tried to run ahead and find the right door. The map said we were very close, but when she ran down it was wrong, and when she ran up on an angle it didn't like that either.

Then miraculously out of nowhere, a white-haired man in a sling appeared out of an elevator door. I'd seen the elevator, but figured it was part of the palace complex we were walking around, and it never occurred to me it was part of the outdoor public infrastructure. The map was confused because it wanted us to go straight up. We took the elevator, and then Mona was able to find the right path. (We figured out the next day that there was a second elevator that could get us even closer to the level where we were staying. Public outdoor elevators! Who knew?) After Mona found the right door, we found the lock box, and finally were able to settle in to where we were staying. We opted out of trying to find a restaurant and simply consumed all the snacks the host was kind enough to leave out for us. We had beds. We had wifi. We had a little bottled water left (I found more in the small fridge behind a curtain later once I realized there had to be a fridge). I didn't know for sure how we were actually going to get to Sacro Bosco the next day, but that was going to be a Thursday problem.

 

The place we were in was wild. It was like being in a fancy cave, since the walls of the structure we were in (which was attached to a palace built on top of a medieval castle) were so thick. There were no straight lines or flat walls. We had no idea what the surrounding area was like since it was night.

 

This was the view from our balcony when we arrived. 

This was the same view in the morning.

There was a tiny sink by the door. All the doors in the area were double doors where everyone entered on the right and the left side was latched unless needed. The kitchen and bathroom were downstairs. Upstairs was a sitting area and two bedrooms. I can't begin to imagine how complicated the process must have been to add plumbing and gas and wiring to this whole complex. Where we were felt ancient, but now had wifi. Unreal.

View through our kitchen window

 

The place felt like we were underground, but we were very high up and could look down on birds flying. The pigeons sounded like they were in the walls because the window wells where they hung out were so deep.

Entrance to our place

 

The neighborhood was lots of twisting paths up a hill. I'm quite sure where we were was not accessible by car, but again, we were often surprised by how many cars were up there nearby.

It was a fascinating little community, with plants and small benches, and every once in a while you'd turn a corner and find slightly more open space like for this church.

Our unexpected elevator

View near the top of the second elevator

The Sacro Bosco day was a perfect day. Google maps showed us a route that claimed to be a 25 minute walk, and that seemed doable since we weren't on any particular schedule other than the park closed at 7. There was a little rain that cleared up by the time we started walking after 10. 

We found a cafe on the way down the hill where we stopped and asked about how to get a cab back to Orte the next morning. The woman at the cafe was incredibly nice. She didn't speak any English, but Google Translate was helpful. We asked if we could arrange for a cab to meet us at the cafe at 10:30 the next day, and she called Thomas who spoke a little English, and got it all arranged. That put my mind at ease to simply enjoy the day and not worry about our next train. There was a nice man at the counter who heard we were walking to Sacro Bosco, and a little later when he saw us walking along the road Google wanted us to use, he called down to us from the wall above and insisted it was a bad way. He escorted us to an overlook closer to the cafe, and pointed down into the green area below with a little road. That was it. I don't know why Google wanted to walk us in loops starting the opposite direction along roads busy with cars, but Sacro Bosco was right there in the backyard of the palace. We thanked him, and enjoyed a pleasant walk.

 

This was the path through the wall near the cafe that sent us the right direction. 

We got to Sacro Bosco by noon. We passed four parking lots along the way, which speaks to how crowded the place gets in the summer. I think we were there at the perfect time. We got to see the park while it was still a little grey and overcast, and then later in glorious sunshine, and sometimes we overlapped with the other dozen or so people in the park but most of the time we were alone.

 

We went first to the restaurant and finally had the nice meal Mom had envisioned treating me and Mona to since we arrived in Italy. It was delicious. I liked they had different bottles for "still" water vs. "frizante." I liked that we got to eat outside under the portico. For most of the meal we were the only ones there. The only oddity was the choice of American cowboy music in the air, but maybe that's what they like. 

One of many empty parking lots

It's hard to express how happy my mom looked the whole time we were there. This was her before we even got to the garden area of the park. We were just on the path to the sculpture garden near a Sacro Bosco themed play structure.

View from inside the park looking back up toward where we walked from:

I was amused by the old fashioned gas lamps with LED bulbs.

So what is Sacro Bosco? It was an idea a prince in the 16th century had for a sculpture park of non-existent fairy tale images. There are creatures and figures and structures and fountains with no context, and you take them as they come and make of them what you will. The whole thing was abandoned after he died and it sat neglected for hundreds of years. In the 1950s the Bettini familly decided to restore the "Garden of Monsters" and now it's a tourist attraction. The centuries of neglect certainly add to the mysterious look of the place. There are great pre-restoration photos in the visitor center of people tending fields and herding sheep with the startling sculptures in the background.

The only use we found for Mom's weird plug converter

We got back to the visitor center around 4. We had a snack and some peach bubble tea and rested our legs before the climb back up to our place.

View from overlook down toward the park area

Entrance to the little cafe where people hung out

I love the centuries of wear on this step where you can see the right side gets all the use.

Top of the elevator

I cannot imagine trying to drive up there.

Entrance to our place!

We made yet another attempt at a "nice dinner out" only to discover the one place in the neighborhood for that was closed. No matter. It was a long day of walking and it felt good not to have to be out anymore.

Quick note that on the faucets, "C" was "hot" and "F" was cold. (Not that it was confusing, it was just fun.)

We packed, slept, and made sure to start walking before 10 to make our cab. (This was the one night where I felt the smallest bit sick. Slightly sore throat as I was trying to sleep, but fine by morning. This trip would have been so much harder had I also gotten sick. Very grateful my sore throat was the worst of it.) The only thing that made me sad that morning was we had intended to spend money at the cafe since they had been so helpful to us. We ordered a coffee and a water and some pastries, only to discover they only took cash. She even tried to arrange for me to transfer money directly to her own card to make it possible, but we didn't have a way to do that, and had to leave everything there. I wanted so much to give her some business.

I also worried about not leaving a city tax this time, but I have no idea if I was supposed to. I was never able to contact our host directly. Ian and Heather were both able to find the lock box code for me. Heather (who was monitoring how things were going via my online posts) said the host wanted to help with my taxi issues, but stopped by on the day we were out. Each place was different about handling the city tax. A couple were able to simply use the card on file for the reservation, so I'm hoping that was the case in Bomarzo. We loved that wacky place where we stayed, so I would hate to have created a problem for our host.

Our cab driver was great this time. Orte was more interesting in the day. 

We had more than an hour to wait at the Orte station. We ate some good snacks and bought more water. An interesting note was the bathroom had a key code, and the code was printed at the bottom of the receipt for anything you bought. I've never seen a system like that before, but I think it's clever. There was also some really weird art in the bathroom area:

We successfully took the train from Orte back to Rome. The walk from the train station to the Marcella Royal Hotel wasn't terribly far, but it was drizzly and my arms were sore from dragging luggage. I vetoed the suggestion of a "nice meal out" on the way because I could not handle stopping with all our bags again and wanted to drop them in our room before going anywhere. The hotel was fine. The lobby was fancy, the room was okay. Mona's pullout bed was all set up, and Mom's and my double bed was really two beds pushed together and made up separately, which was nice because I didn't have to worry about thrashing around or stealing covers. Great view from our little balcony!

 

We rested for a bit, missed the window for eating in a restaurant again, and I popped across the street to get takeout pizza slices and water. I thought of it as snacks before dinner with the option to eat leftovers in the morning, but Mona misunderstood and thought that was dinner and all of it got eaten. I took a shower, and then Mom and I went up to the rooftop restaurant when it was open for dinner. It was a lovely meal with a pretty view.

The desk called us a cab in the morning for the fairly long drive to the airport. I'm sorry Mona didn't get to really see any of Rome, but we did drive by the Colosseum which I found cool. I blows my mind that this giant ancient thing is there in the middle of roads and businesses.

Note on how many gas stations were small stops along the side of the road instead of whole stores like I'm used to.

We got to the airport in plenty of time, but we decided to check our bags this time (since I wasn't in fear of them losing my music, etc. at that point) and it took a long time. However, we were early enough that we didn't have a gate assignment and had to wait for that to come up on the boards. The Rome airport is a lot of travel madness plus an entire perfume sales floor. I did like this gelato wall, though:

We made our little plane to France, but it was LATE and I didn't think we'd make our connection to Detroit.

While trying to figure out the connection in Paris, we discovered a tour group returning to Detroit being led by someone in an Air France vest, and we decided to stick with them. There were enough people in the group that they held the plane. The already completely settled in passengers did not look thrilled with us as we got on board, but at least they knew they'd be leaving any minute. I'm glad we checked our bags because all the bins were basically full. An attendant found a small closet for my mandola.

And we were off! The last bit of fun was getting to the airport shuttle, and that was when Mom's luggage finally bit the dust. Which is good, because that bag was awful to drag around, and she needs to update to a bag with four wheels. We were not sad to see it die, but happy it waited until it got back to Detroit first. Poor Mona kept trying to force a loose rod back into place and then the handle thing wouldn't retract at all. This is it by the back door waiting to go to the curb.

A successful trip! We spent a night in Detroit, and then the morning of Sunday, Octovber 11th, Mom made me blintzes (because my mom is great like that) and Mona and I hit the road in time to be in Milwaukee before dinner. The dog was glad to see me, but surprised I wasn't dead.

There are definitely moments I wish had gone more smoothly, but I know more for next time. What a special thing to have experienced with my mom and daughter. We are so lucky.

The hope is for our next MMO travel adventure is Spain!

(And if you actually made it this far in this too long post, you are my new favorite person.)