tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33639678443792088762024-03-05T12:03:42.899+01:00Overseas AdventuresFreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-90548058006011366482016-04-29T06:40:00.000+02:002016-05-03T05:11:27.861+02:00Camping Comrades<div dir="ltr">
With whom have I set out on this adventure, who is the 'we' to which I keep referring? There are five of us on this adventure, or three, depending on how you count it. I'll outline us all here leave the final tally up to you.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Well firstly there is me, chief organiser and resident control freak. I'm taking a break from my studies (study break in fact) for this little excursion. This semester I am once again at two unis and unfortunately only one of them is on break this week, however due to Anzac day I'm only missing 2 hours of class from the other, which hopefully I'll be able to make up with some diligent revision and some rote learning (it's Italian).<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Then we have Lochie, Captain in Chief. He's a building designer and draftsman, also the landrover owner. He's been hankering for a bit of a break from work and hardly needs much encouragement to head out on an off-roading trip. Since his vehicle of choice sports a 'made in England' sicker we're often at my dad's workshop having a bit of a tinker and fixing anything that's got broke.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Last human on our trip is Chief Navigator Haydn. He's just graduated as an electrical engineer, hasn't done much camping before but is always keen for a Leroy adventure. He only has a manual license so isn't going any of our road driving but is competent enough to drive Leroy in the event of Lochie being stung twice by bees and me breaking a leg.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Next up is Jace, Adventure Mascot. She has taken a break from her warm room and comfortable bed to journey with us into the wilderness. She hasn't camped before but is well versed in adventures.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Then there's Leroy, 'reliable, dependable, never holds back, provider of transport and warmth'. He's 7 years old, a little go getter, like a British bulldog but also he's a car. 2009 landrover Defender 130, um double cab chassis, 2.4l 4 cylinder turbo diesel engine, with 300nm of torque and 90 brake horse power. Some (Kim Cramer) may say that's not enough but Leroy's massive gear box will get us through anything. (cut to scene Leroy rising majestically over green hillside covered in mud) and that you may have guessed was dictation from proud Papa Lochie.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
So there you have it, our little convoy. Final numbers to be determined by you.<br />
Images to follow soon if not already uploaded.</div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-36708045445333478532016-04-29T06:39:00.002+02:002016-05-03T05:09:02.794+02:00Ravensthorpe to Fitzgerald River national park (also Hyden)<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
When I was telling my dad about our plan to swap drivers at Hyden on the way down he eagerly pulled up photos of the last time I'd been there. It was 2000 and toward the end (?) of a 3 month family camping/caravan trip, and directed pigtailed me (an also sometimes my sister) at wave rock. So after we'd had pies at the Hyden bake house I pushed for us to stop by on our way out of town to recreate the photo. In the end I couldn't find my hair lackies (it's a currently /just/ long enough to tie up) so there were no pig tails but we did take a photo to send to my dad next time we got reception. (I'll try an upload it when I get a copy/reception)<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
While we were there we commented on how much of a nanny state we live in, to have erected a wall across the top of such a beautiful natural land mark, so that people wouldn't fall off. It turns out however the wall was built to increase the catchment area of Hyden dam, when it was extended in 1951, which is actually pretty reasonable. We did the shortest of short walking trials up to the top of the rock and then down again which afforded us an awesome view of the surroundings.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
After the brief interlude I took the wheel and we tottered on down to Ravensthorpe where we topped up Leroy's air bag suspension a touch (Leroy is the car we're in) and did our produce shop. The boys were weirded out by the fact the iga had a carpeted floor, but I was somewhat more distracted by the fact that they had camping/hardware supplies, and no sliced bread. We picked up a couple of gems, like discount (expired) 'regular spread (margarine) and a loaf of unsliced artisinal bread (of which half still remains with us and we're nearly at Albany). It was then just an hour further to our first vaguely planned camp-site (for which I relinquished vehicular control).<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
That night we camped at Stoke's inlet where there was a lovely volunteer camp ground manager couple, Bob and Pat (apparently Bob only had one had but the validity of that statement cannot be confirmed by and additional party), a well established and sheltered camping area, a barbecue and a toilet block. It made for a nice soft entry to camping. We arrived in time to figure out our swag arrangements, and get started on dinner before it got dark. I'd spent much of the car trip babysitting my not-quite-dead-yet bunch of flowers which made a nice addition to our table spread.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm564NW3cxvO0_KeNH7zqZmq4y_lsBxqUzvqwasWFcfylMWDzmIR4T-bPkWpV_3MtEqR2bA0HcN2hCZbMe6uE_Ewn5UwotuNwB7GaU2MTdi0ZGKkO8lJiPT8pEP9JbCbPUMHqIJOy4-w4/s1600/IMG_20160424_102927-764168.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6278833584347190146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm564NW3cxvO0_KeNH7zqZmq4y_lsBxqUzvqwasWFcfylMWDzmIR4T-bPkWpV_3MtEqR2bA0HcN2hCZbMe6uE_Ewn5UwotuNwB7GaU2MTdi0ZGKkO8lJiPT8pEP9JbCbPUMHqIJOy4-w4/s320/IMG_20160424_102927-764168.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The following day (Saturday) we headed into Esperance for sliced bread, gluten free bread, an extra day's worth of meat (having revised our journey somewhat) and a tarp (there is alot of forecast rain). For lunch we stopped into Top End Takeaway at the recommendation of a friend who grew up in Albany, and their Mick's burger was just the delicious monstrosity she'd outlined. The boys' faces lit up at the mention of double patties. We got them to go and headed straight for the ocean, eating on a picnic table overlooking the Scout's yatch club.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1F325CoP7AXKsjtz3CVBwVHVs-RF_NHnpzJQqxbdhTtu8OKdgcOIysV2xSI-dvvmx8Qsxj0tb9nsmN2ollmhqqnxoqwBlvPoIdteJw8p6Xiv_aSdYK1CWuDulKSM1aujTWVvK7jIdOA0/s1600/IMG_20160423_135420-764988.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6278833587621843602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1F325CoP7AXKsjtz3CVBwVHVs-RF_NHnpzJQqxbdhTtu8OKdgcOIysV2xSI-dvvmx8Qsxj0tb9nsmN2ollmhqqnxoqwBlvPoIdteJw8p6Xiv_aSdYK1CWuDulKSM1aujTWVvK7jIdOA0/s320/IMG_20160423_135420-764988.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Onwards we went to our second camp ground: Mason Bay. This was a beautiful little place right on the coast and it had a fire pit. It was still incredibly clear so we gave the tarp a miss. Woolies Esperance had provided us with the lovely gem of a discount butterflied lamb shoulder that we enjoyed with fire roasted veggies. Determined to beat the previous night's 7.30 bed time we stayed up watching the fire and listening to the surf (also warming our feet on the edge of the concrete fire enclosure). Whilst enjoying the fire we also sacrificed most of the forlorn looking roses to the rain gods in hopes of continued fair weather. The moon was incredibly full that night and despite my complaints about it being too bright this is probably my favourite camp ground so far; after getting into my swag I lay and watched the stars for a while listening to the waves crashing.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqgaYPdOMIWLYCmujzj5gMbe3rQa9RS7bOd1dzVjA7G7GtKEIN43qWNGmNkOTsrsoX3xaRKcjTWIxgEN47tc_ZuR0T4Nt9iZua-K2iudmSXdMM_Ojb-fXSgXdC7E2QECvA__vpSI0VnQ/s1600/IMG_20160424_102903-766815.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6278833596073368498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqgaYPdOMIWLYCmujzj5gMbe3rQa9RS7bOd1dzVjA7G7GtKEIN43qWNGmNkOTsrsoX3xaRKcjTWIxgEN47tc_ZuR0T4Nt9iZua-K2iudmSXdMM_Ojb-fXSgXdC7E2QECvA__vpSI0VnQ/s320/IMG_20160424_102903-766815.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJBRkdH8calD6P6wvkzrzITFOBFH4NNiyrfcEW_VK5UT6mNqkO45s6zpdF33SC5J9f6lORvVS_23xhrfWxi6ZBdVkgBtCGnilnJKIYcX0bQTll4HVi4s_A5UqmNA9IIExZ0tQZ2mS4iU/s1600/IMG_20160424_102920-765798.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6278833591617225330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJBRkdH8calD6P6wvkzrzITFOBFH4NNiyrfcEW_VK5UT6mNqkO45s6zpdF33SC5J9f6lORvVS_23xhrfWxi6ZBdVkgBtCGnilnJKIYcX0bQTll4HVi4s_A5UqmNA9IIExZ0tQZ2mS4iU/s320/IMG_20160424_102920-765798.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flower Sacrifice to the Rain Gods<br />
in hopes of continued fair weather</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div dir="ltr">
After a good 11 or so hours of sleep and Lochie's pre breakfast swim we pottered around for a bit before packing up and heading off towards Fitzgerald River national park. And while we're on the topic of sleep I must say, we sure are getting a lot, after getting to camp early to mid afternoon we set up, occasionally have a brief chill then start getting dinner ready around 5 as it begins to get dimmer. We're generally eating by torch light and not long after yawning ourselves into our swags only to rouse again at 7 or 8 the following day. That's what you're supposed to do on holiday, right? Sleep a lot?</div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-85901345335553580822016-04-22T03:23:00.001+02:002016-04-22T03:23:58.377+02:00We're off on an adventure<p dir="ltr">Only thing is, it's not overseas. <br></p> <p dir="ltr">Currently I'm sitting in the back of a friend's Land Rover Defender as we muddle our way towards Brookton hwy; the main arterial of the day's journey to Esperance. After acquiring perishables from Ravensthorpe and camping somewhere between the two we spend the next 9 days off roading home up the coast. It'll be the longest holiday I've taken since going to Italy for Christmas in 2013.</p> <p dir="ltr">It was just before Christmas when we started throwing around the idea of escaping the daily work/uni grind in favour of an adventure. Initially we had almost 10 people interested in going but conflicting uni breaks gave us the opportunity to scale it back to something more manageable and, from my point of view, enjoyable (ever tired catering for 10 people for a multiple of days, not the most relaxing tasks). We chose dates; long weekend, study week, least possible school holidays and left it there until about a month ago when we realised we had actually better get our acts together! </p> <p dir="ltr">A couple of planning meetings later and Lady weekend we found ourselves up at my parents' farm on a supply run and trial camp. The vast majority of people I've talked to chuckled at the notion of practising our camping, but to be honest, if I'm going to have problems sleeping in a swag, I'd rather know about it sooner rather than later when I have the time and resources to deal with it. And as it turns out, tapered sleeping bags and swags aren't all that fun, something I've now accounted for. </p> <p dir="ltr">The past few days have been rather hectic, trying to fit last bits of planning, staples shopping and packing in around labs, a 12hour day at work, and finishing off an assignment (handed in at 8am this morning, our first stop of the day). But now we are on our way and the things we don't have we don't have and that's that. We'll never be more than a few hours away from a decent sized town so we'll be able to pick up what we're missing on the next produce shop. </p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-3799936355617111292014-01-11T10:03:00.001+01:002014-01-11T10:03:08.178+01:00Postius I'm on a plane homeius<p dir="ltr">Having spent most of yesterday afternoon simultaneously packing my suitcase and helping Tancredi with his homework (italian homework I might add) I woke up early this morning to stuff my pyjamas into an already overly full bag, skull my last italian coffee, scoff down my last piece of Panettone in Italy and head off for the 7am bus to Milan. Sara drove me in to the bus stop and Tancredi tagged along too, despite it being obnoxiously early by Italian standards. He declined several social engagements with his friends last night to hang around the house with me and while his sadness at my departure has been somewhat eclipsed by his purchasing of a new phone yesterday it was pretty evident from his hug this morning that he'll miss me.</p> <p dir="ltr">After plenty of half asleep photos on Tancredi's new phone Jace and I said our goodbyes and hopped on the bus. This whole morning it hasn't really felt like I'm actually leaving. Even as I was trundling down the stairs with my bag in tow this morning. Although now I am checking in and at the gate it does seem a little more real. </p> <p dir="ltr">The bus was almost 15 minutes early and the line for checking only a few people long. I was slightly concerned that the 2hours from bus arrival to plane departure would be cutting it a bit fine since I couldn't check in online (my passport expires in 5 months 13 days and you need 6 months for online check in) but i really shouldn't have been worried. For all of Italy's usual disorganisation/mayhem I basically walked straight through, waiting maybe at most 5 minutes at both check in and security. So not more than 30mins after the bus arrived I found my self arriving at the gate. I'm glad Sara convinced me that the 6am bus was too early. </p> <p dir="ltr">Having received a call from Nonna Irma almost exactly as the bus pulled up when my phone went off again as I got to the gate I thought it would be her once again calling to lament my departure. She is well know for calling multiple times in an hour or even hanging up from one call and ringing someone else in the house straight after. It is a bit if a joke around the house that whenever the phone rings everyone says 'ciao Nonna' before someone picks it up (usually to say 'ciao Nonna' again). It was not, in fact Nonna Irma calling me again but Tancredi, checking when I'd arrived and how my waiting in line was going (he was super impressed how fast I'd gotten through everything. </p> <p dir="ltr">We chatted for almost 10 minutes, something which I'm personally quite proud of. Talking on the phone in Italian is hard; it's very easy to lose the thread of conversation and not being able to wave arms or have the other person see if I'm understanding or not is difficult. Not to mention my inability to work out what someone is saying if the signal is bad. Mostly we chatted about the airport, Tancredi's plans for the day (nothing beyond getting a micro sim for his new phone) and breakfast. After instructing him to take pictures of things at the markets to email and to eat lots of Panettone for me We rang off, him to have breakfast and me to finish this and nosh a banana. </p> <p dir="ltr">(i should point out at this point Nonna Irma called me again to make sure I'd checked in and eaten breakfast and coffee and second breakfast) </p> <p dir="ltr">With the Singapore Airlines sausages (flight attendants) having just boarded the plane and passengers moshing in front of the gate I had best publish then and then plan out my Facebook post for the grand reveal. </p> <p dir="ltr">Ci vediamo in Australia! </p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-75066683945257326582014-01-11T07:10:00.003+01:002014-01-11T07:10:36.721+01:00Updateius the experiment is overius<p dir="ltr">So i was running a bit of am experiment with this blog while I was away (i forget if I've mentioned it before) where by I didn't tell anyone I was updating it and waited to see home long it took for them to go looking for information about my adventures. After several weeks I told my sister and a couple of friends about it but other than that only one person, my boyfriend, discovered it, and that I believe is because I mentioned it on twitter. I didn't cross post anything to Facebook and I kept my email updates to my family brief in the hope they would wonder where the rest was and go looking. But I guess my unreliability in updating when I was in exchange meant they didn't even consider checking.</p> <p dir="ltr">My sister and I have spent weeks driving hints. Including a direct mention of a travel blog on the same day as mentioning the tediousness of uploading photos using H+. Still no bells rung, which honestly surprised me, I had thought that overnight as all the hint sunk in someone would work it out. So now on my last full day here, as I face packing my bag I have dropped the last hint. A Facebook status mentioning my 'Overseas Adventure'. Now it's quite possible that after all this time my parents have forgotten what my blog is called and it will mean nothing to them but my randomly capitalising letters. So tomorrow just before I head off I shall post a link on Facebook.</p> <p dir="ltr">My sister has been urging me for a couple of weeks to just tell them about it. But after not being able to cotton on after an abundance of clues I decided it would wait.</p> <p dir="ltr">Last time I was constantly hassled to update and never did. Once I'd gotten a little bit behind the task seemed impossible. So this time I've approached it differently. I've never been strong in written English, in making things make sense when they're written down, and having them flow. So this time I've approached it more as the telling of a story and less of a blow by blow account of each day and activity. That was where I got bogged down last time. It isn't necessary for me to recount my every action, my every meal and my every conversation. This time I've tried to keep the mood lighter, funnier and centred around specific events. I've found this a much more constructive way of writing. It's as though I've say down to tell someone a story rather than the recount my time here. I even have a little chuckle when reading bit back.</p> <p dir="ltr">Another thing I've found helpful is updating via email. The internet at Sara's is extremely unreliable at night which is when I found myself updating most in 2011. I'd spent the evening slaving over a post only to have the internet crash 10 times in 15 minutes as I tried to upload. Very discouraging. This time, having a smart phone and internet data I've written all my photos from there and only used my computer for adding photos. I've also done most of my writing whilst pounding it out on the treadmill at the gym. It's a perfect piece of otherwise un used them I can dedicate just to writing with no other distractions other than how many steps I've don't and how long I've been walking for. Due to the nature of typing on a self correcting keyboard whilst walking at 6km/h I imagine there is a significant number of spelling and grammatical errors. I'll get onto fixing them when I'm home, with reliable internet and a screen bigger than my netbook. Although I hope most of the post are at least understandable even with the random errors thrown in.</p> <p dir="ltr">I've got a few more post to go; tales of my adventures on the city these past few days and stories to go with other photos I've taken. But for now they will have to wait. I'm catching the bus to Milan at 7am tomorrow and have a lot of packing to do as well as having to go out and grab a few more last minute gifts!</p> <p dir="ltr">Coming over with a 23kg bag 8kg and almost half the bag of which was gifts gives me not only plenty of space but also plenty of weight to fill up. Singapore has changed their baggage limit to 30 kg which is more than I imagine I can fit in my bag! So far I've bought 4kg of books and 2kg of food. So we're already close to half my additional weight and I haven't even checked how heavy the rest is. My job for after the gym.</p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-26705849009975800242014-01-11T07:10:00.001+01:002014-01-11T07:10:21.189+01:00Postius more about the snowius<p dir="ltr">I really enjoyed my time in the mountains and the novelty of being surrounded by snow never wore off. Who would have thought I'd enjoy tramping through slush when it was -1 out at 4.30pm just to take photos. Well that's what I did one day. It wasn't a terribly good day for taking photos unfortunately, there was quite a bit of fog around but I enjoyed the walk all the same.</p> <p dir="ltr">One day Sara and I headed up the hill (16 flights of stairs in 1000 steps) to the second apartment to give the keys to people renting it for the weekend. I started taking photos of trees covered in snow while she was explaining things and afterward we decided to just continue on up the hill. And hour later we were sprawled in deckchairs 1890m above sea level waiting for Corrado and Tancredi who were skiing to join us.</p> <p dir="ltr">We grabbed got chocolates to warm up and a couple of pieces of cake to share as we sat and took in the view. As the pre dusk fog started to settle in we all headed off. I declined Tancredi's offer to go down the pista on his shoulders, and instead made the wall back down the 'road' with Sara. It was much faster going down and before long we almost walked straight past the snow angles we made on the way up. I really enjoyed the walk, it was the same one we had done during summer when I was here last time to the contrast of picking wild berries to making snow angles was quite amusing.</p> <p dir="ltr">I'm quite surprised how well I feared with the walk. I was in a pair of Sara's old hiking boots and wasn't wearing my orthotics, yet when we got back home the inside of my big toe hurt slightly, a testament to my lack of orthotics. I didn't even have any blistered or anything. Considering last time I was all but incapacitated the next day despite wearing my own shoes and orthotics I think it's safe to say that two years of pilates has done me some good!</p> <p dir="ltr">The day Sara and I went up the mountain I climbed the equivalent of over 130 flights of stairs, my biggest day yet by more than double! 27 had been just after mining as we trekked home after watching and Italian comedy at the cinema. If it cost only $12 for a standard ticket to the movies in Australia I'd be there all the time too! Fortunately though I live near a small art Deco cinema that has cheap tickets though only a select few films.</p> <p dir="ltr">The rest if the time when I ventured out of the house I often snapped photos on my phone to email off to my family to make them all jealous of my snow adventures. My only internet access while we were there was through the data connection on my phone and I dedicated most of one afternoon to supervising the very slow uploading of photos to this blog through a wireless hot stop from my phone. The whole thing was done using a H+ data connection, which as I explained to my mum is like the dial up of mobile data. It was a very tedious afternoon.</p> <p dir="ltr">After 9 days in a beautiful white wonderland I was sad to be leaving but very thankful for the time I had there. My sister and I have resolved to come back for Christmas one year (i possibly have understated to her how hilly the village is and how much walking you do there...) </p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-7540152487648702542014-01-07T21:37:00.003+01:002014-01-09T18:40:55.552+01:00Postius emergency pound cake saves the same dayius<div dir="ltr">
+ some photos</div>
<div dir="ltr">
After the success of Tancredi's birthday cake Sara's friend Alessandra requested another one for her son's 8th birthday a few days later. Knowing the cake is much easier to work with the say after its cooked I set aside time to make it ahead of time. In one of my city adventures I'd headed to an Asian shop to pick up the ingredients to make a curry as Tancredi requested. With my time here dwindling to a close it was decided that cake baking day would also be curry making night. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /> So in a momentary and unusual bit of time alone in the apartment I set out first with the cake and then once that was in the oven with the curry. Previously when Sara had been at the shops she'd called me up to check what meat I needed for the curry asking if chicken on the bone was okay. I pointed out that deboned would be better but she decided we could just cut it from the bones our selves. So whilst periodically checking on the cake of i definite cooking time I set out to debone 5 chicken thighs with the two bluntest knives ever. I should also point out that each was at least 20cm long and half the chicken thighs were frozen. Also I hate raw chicken.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
By the time everyone made it home I was almost finished hacking the chicken, had potatoes boiling on the stove and the cake was almost done. Selene was super excited about the prospect of curry, not having eaten it since she was in Australia in 2011 every time someone asked what we were having with it I waved in her direction and asked her to explain it for me. Corrado kept insisting we were going to have something as a first plate and then curry second.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Remembering from last time that Sara's month couldn't handle spice I added about half the curry paste I would have normally and we had a very mild mussaman curry for dinner. I asked Selene (who asked Sara) to make the rice since we are lazy and have a rice cooker at home I've never learnt the proper amount of rice to add. Corrado was, as the Italians say, 'breaking my balls' about how I wanted the rice. Not only was I managing the curry and cake I also had some left over cookie dough defrosting to cook once the cake was done. Oh and there were 5 other people in the 45m² apartment. It's safe to say I did not appreciate his stopping me to ask how I wanted the rice, he was not in charge of the rice and I had already conveyed to Sara how it needed to be cooked. When he asked me about it I responded 'cooked' to which he started listing ways Italians cook rice as example of how I should have specified better. My rather short response was 'if i wanted it cooked like risotto I would have said' risotto' not cooked'. He seemed to leave me to it after that.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Everyone was pretty happy with the curry, though Selene complained it wasn't spicy enough, since there is still lost of paste left I explained to her how to make a second smaller and spicy sauce that people could add to their plate if they wanted. She seems pretty enthusiastic about cooking it again sometime so that's pretty cool.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The next day I had a lazy morning around the house before settling in to finish the cake around lunch time. After lunch Alessandra came over to borrow our oven to cook some party food and everything was going smoothly until at 10 to 5 she got a call from the person making a second cake to say that she'd dropped it. Eyes turned to me and I was asked if I could whip up another simple cake. I should point out the party was scheduled to start at 6.30. Glancing around the apartment to see what ingredients we had and taking on board the arm waving and explanation of a simple white cake I decided a pound cake would suffice. A did a quick google search and chose the first result (a <a href="http://taste.com/">taste.com</a> recipe) without reading any others.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
According to the rather waffley notes with the recipe it was apparently rather important the butter be at the right temperature and it be creamed with the sugar just so and the mix wasn't allowed to look curdled when you added the eggs. Considering i was doing all of the creaming with a hand mixer that would either break it jam every couple of minutes it's safe to say I disregarded most of the notes. Also when they insisted on the butter being at room temperature or else the whole thing be a catastrophe in don't think they had alpine room temperate in mind.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I eventually gave up on the hand blender and added the flour to a mix that was curdled. This whole time Corrado was muttering about how I shouldn't have been asked to make a second cake and they should have just bought a new one. After shoving the thing in the oven I retreated to my bed to escape people for the 50mins it took to cook. I as soon as the timer went off we rugged up and headed to the party, the cake cooling as we went! There were strict instructions to the person carrying the mud cake (Sara) that if they dropped it I'd kill them. We made it to the party without a drama, dropping off Tancredi's hired skis on the way.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I was quite pleased that within a few minutes of arrived I was given a glass of wine. After the stress of last minute cake making it was very welcome. Selene quickly grew bored of being surrounded by little kids and organised for me, her and Tancre to go down the road to the cinema and watch The Butler. We brought the cakes out and everyone was super impresses with how they looked. With the pound cake mostly cool I quickly covered it in icing sugar and stuck some candles in it. After singing happy birthday in both italian and English (who knows why) I was in charge of dishing out cake.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Everyone was super pleased with both despite the pound cake was still slightly warm in the middle. The party was held in a room of the ski school where Giacomo (the birthday boy) had been learning and most of the ski coaches pop in for a piece too. The three off us headed off to the film (that i'd already seen in Australia) leaving Corrado, Sara and the cakes at the mercy of 8 year old with party blower trumpets. I was surprised how much of the film Tancredi understood, there were only a few things, like him not recognising the Obama Biden logo, that he didn't get, and mostly because they were recent events and haddn't made it yet into history studies.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
We saw Alessandra again the next day as we were picking up to leave and she was again super thankful for both my cakes. One cake would probably have been enough but only just. And I am told the extras were left at the ski school for their coaches party the next day.</div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-16230920796143143412014-01-07T21:37:00.001+01:002014-01-09T18:43:00.306+01:00Ski Diary Day 2ius<div dir="ltr">
January 4, 2014<br /> Woke up early for Ski lesson, it was snowing.<br /> Snow continued all day. <br /> I am told this improves skiing conditions for learners as it covers any ice on the slope. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /> My instructor, Carlotta, spoke reasonably good English, with a few italian words thrown in where she got stuck. We started off on the super beginners slope, that is actually a 'road' yet no one drives on it because it's never cleared if snow. The first few corners I just had to kind if figure out what to do but then Carlotta explained which ski to put my weight on and how to shift my body and soon we were making good time. The end of the super beginners slope spits you out on the actual pista (track) so you go down the last bit of that on the way to the ski lift.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
My lessons in falling down with Sara a few days before had obviously been useful as we had enough time to go back up again. Carlotta reckoned I had enough control to just go down the actual pista the whole way. I did pretty well, only falling down twice (the third time apparently doesn't count because it was due to the snow being too thin and my getting stuck on a rock and it was on the practice track anyway). Apparently I had a pretty good stature which I think is mostly due to the water skiing I did years ago. Dad's 'knees bent arms straight' mantra came back to me every time I put my weight wrong and lost control. The difficult thing is your weight is quite far forward compared to normal, your shins connecting with the boot and transferring weight that way. The few times I forgot, I promptly lost control and/or fell over. Once hilariously enough just after Carlotta commented how well I was doing in not falling over. She was however impressed with how quickly and easily I manage to get up again. So that was a successful lesson from Sara.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
At the end of the hour I had pretty good basic control over the skis and so long as the slow wasn't too steep i was pretty confident. I also had a VERY sore bum from all the spazzaneve (snow plow) and was very happy to head back to the apartment, sit down and eat. I had eaten breakfast before I went out but was super hungry again. Sara laughed at me.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I went out again for another hour or so that afternoon with Corrado. He wasn't a very good teacher and I didn't really need teaching so much as someone to keep an eye on me as I practiced. Every time I did something wrong or lost control he'd tell me what to do, even if he'd said it a few minutes before hand, as though I didn't know what to do rather than couldn't do it properly. Honestly, I spent a lot of the time ignoring what he was saying and concentrating more on where my weight was and how I had my skis placed. We did the pista twice and the second time I was nearly at the end before I fell over. I was hoping I'd be able to. Make it down once without falling over but that remains to be seen.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The next day I hoped to go out again but in the end I got caught up cake making and didn't get to. Hopefully I can at least partially remember what I learnt the next time I get to go skiing.</div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-82446433776096451562014-01-07T21:05:00.001+01:002014-01-09T18:45:01.958+01:00Ski Diary Day 1<div dir="ltr">
January 1, 2014<br /> 3:38pm<br /> Learnt to walk up hill sideways. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
4:08pm<br /> Learnt to walk down hill.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
4:22pm<br /> Learnt to fall down. <br /> Learnt to make other people fall down. <br /> Learnt to get up. Sometimes.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
4:32pm<br /> Learnt to ski down half hill on arse. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Before heading up to the mountains Sara had asked me if I had any interest in skiing, I said that I didn't really want to spend days an days going down hills but that I would like to have a go at it. So one afternoon we set out with an old pair of Tancredi's skis and a borrowed pair of old shoes to the kiddies sledding hill so I could 'get the feel' of skis before paying for a lesson. I probably spent more time on my arse or walking up or down the hill than I did practising skiing but I did get the feel of it, at least to some extent. Apart from the one time I fell over straight onto my hip, most of my falling down was because I couldn't stop or turn around and ended up on my bum instead. Which since its gained some italian padding didn't hurt that much.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1krpijqYS0EC5it9se70XaGgqv7b8-qyw7bB_BkxQ2uYFTyq3XOxZpOfqG60OMJy95217b8ZhaNfhfetqcvADRu0IqibwMNP6QoA641jypOVG4F7wi6sqL1cmEotNDkn-fpq2VitPXw/s1600/IMG_5819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1krpijqYS0EC5it9se70XaGgqv7b8-qyw7bB_BkxQ2uYFTyq3XOxZpOfqG60OMJy95217b8ZhaNfhfetqcvADRu0IqibwMNP6QoA641jypOVG4F7wi6sqL1cmEotNDkn-fpq2VitPXw/s1600/IMG_5819.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-31728286601470962302014-01-07T18:23:00.001+01:002014-01-09T19:14:29.472+01:00Postius Jace adventures in the snowius<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Up at the mountains Jace got a bit jealous of me and Tancredi playing out in the snow while she was stuck inside watching it out the window. One morning when we opened the door to change the air in the room she made a run for it to get in some snow play of her own. I snapped a few photos before convincing her to put on a hat so she didn't get too cold. A few more photos and we managed to coax her back inside, dust off the snow and sat her in front of a heater to warm up again.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Everyone was quite concerned she'd get sick from going out with such little warm weather gear on. But when we came back for lunch she was just waking up from a nap next to the heater and was right as rain. We kept a much closer eye on her after that when we had the door open and made sure she was well rugged up /before/ we headed out again. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVC7hJlVIt1xAk0Nt9ZfUPFACB72b9EX3EBQaQXc0I29LKaExrPIo_YXwfNFPwj4ObtsM9HV2oL0gpc-aDyeoWvgaayKjS6f0Yaw1svqqLkk7FowVznzIePvfkkLppmmzkl44HfSpZCI/s1600/IMG_5821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVC7hJlVIt1xAk0Nt9ZfUPFACB72b9EX3EBQaQXc0I29LKaExrPIo_YXwfNFPwj4ObtsM9HV2oL0gpc-aDyeoWvgaayKjS6f0Yaw1svqqLkk7FowVznzIePvfkkLppmmzkl44HfSpZCI/s1600/IMG_5821.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO64u5S-RJ8AZ5L8M7i3esciNFKrFXf6kHKYxb6qt8E03W4qxw_lAoJwcnSnMVQcxWApPgJ4tWJEJvhqGJbk-ZXiS-hxTEOb8wZdMdADDABGwQ7PjPs6g4QxLB-D_n7tuqeMx9J9nwW8s/s1600/IMG_5824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO64u5S-RJ8AZ5L8M7i3esciNFKrFXf6kHKYxb6qt8E03W4qxw_lAoJwcnSnMVQcxWApPgJ4tWJEJvhqGJbk-ZXiS-hxTEOb8wZdMdADDABGwQ7PjPs6g4QxLB-D_n7tuqeMx9J9nwW8s/s1600/IMG_5824.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36-2n3cmSSGrD_YH-f_Hv2BUXgAkqE1kNTkeLo3266JyGfFtWl-gJZwKE6r9mMUWWmNamlujRBgaUSrRTmnKaFowhWd5H4v-M0dSM5ZfBX_2NyHFtHReZ9puYmRdfljAIGHDDfKf0omI/s1600/IMG_5825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36-2n3cmSSGrD_YH-f_Hv2BUXgAkqE1kNTkeLo3266JyGfFtWl-gJZwKE6r9mMUWWmNamlujRBgaUSrRTmnKaFowhWd5H4v-M0dSM5ZfBX_2NyHFtHReZ9puYmRdfljAIGHDDfKf0omI/s1600/IMG_5825.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-19973553295039496102014-01-02T12:04:00.001+01:002014-01-02T14:34:57.916+01:00Postius Tancredi had a birthdayius<div dir="ltr">
+4 photos</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Sara had to head back to Turin to work the Monday of Tancredi's birthday so had asked me of I could make him a cake during. He had deemed it needed to be a chocolate cake. My sister has this awesome chocolate cake recipe she uses to make wedding cakes, and having made a variation of it previously, I thought it would be the think to make. We'd packed a tin and were half way to Sauze before I remembered this recipe says, explicitly, to NOT use a spring form pan so i spent an hour or so in the morning plugging up all the leaks with alfoil. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Tancredi and I headed to the next by shops and his face when I picked up 5 blocks of chocolate was rather amusing. My response was 'well you wanted a chocolate cake'. The next glitch I came to was when I'd mixed together all the batter and put the bowl next to the cake tin it was obvious that it wasn't going to fit. I quickly texted my sister and emailed her photos of all the things I could find around the house that might serve as a cake tin. After she took a short icey pole break in the middle of my emergency cake correspondence we decided that using a large glass dish would me okay. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I quickly papered the sides and base and whacked the mix in the oven. Then began the giant waiting game. The recipe says 45 mins at 170c with my sisters side note being 'yeah right, more like 2x this every time' so you leave the cake 40mins and then start stabbing it every 10-20 mins to see how it's doing. At one point when I stabbed it raw mix started bleeding out the hole, yeah, I didn't think it was quite ready yet. Over all it ended up being in there a bit over an hour and a half, but I'm not sure exactly. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I probably got too excited about getting it on to the cooling rack and should have waited a bit longer, it was super fragile and with Tancredi giving me a hand I'm surprised the whole thing didn't break. Now I have enough trouble at Sara's /house/ funding things to use as a cooling rack so as you can imagine finding something there and big enough for a cake at that was a little challenging. In the end I decided to use the rack from the oven. Oh but it's just been in the oven and is hot you say? Don't worry there's a bank of snow outside the living room to throw it into. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
With the cake on the cooling rack it was time for the second waiting game. How long will it take for a 10cm thick chocolate mud cake to cool completely. I was hesitant to put it out side this time since there wasn't really a good place for it and I didn't want it to get dripped on. The cake came out of the oven around 4 so I still had plenty of time to head to the shops and grab what I forgot for the ganache before Sara came home. In the end Tancre asked Sara to pick up the remaining few things since she was going to arrive before dinner. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
As it turns out it was almost 9pm by the time she arrived. Realising they'd be so late she'd called to tell us to eat and then go watch a ski thing in the town where a while bunch of people skied down the slope with flaming torches. Tancredi by this point was pretty was pretty grumpy. Sara had missed most of his birthday, had to get his present in Turin AND was late getting back so the cake wasn't done either. I promised him he would have his cake on his birthday so when we made it home at 10 I set about hurriedly chopping chocolate for ganache and decorations. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
While the ganache was cooling I pencilled out some letters on baking paper to trace with some white chocolate. Chocolate too runny for writing with? No problem, just cooled it in the snow out side. I sat the pan in the snow for a few seconds while stirring it to make sure it didn't set at the edges, once it thickened up a bit I pored it into a paper funnel and travel out the words. It was the first time I'd ever done any sort of chocolate decorating/writing and the fact I was shaking from the rush of getting the cake finished didn't help. I wasn't happy with my traced one so free handed a second set and it came out pretty good. I put the paper on metal tray and sat it out on the snow again to firm up completely. Then it was on to ganaching the cake. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I'd never made ganache before either. This really isn't sounding like the best cake to be making in a small unequipped kitchen in the middle of the night, is it? Liberty had said the chocolate to cream ratio was maybe around 2:1 and I needed it to be like peanut butter at the end. Not having chocolate to spare I added a little less cream to start off with. Again it was still quite runny when I came to putting it on the cake, despite the time I'd spend working on the writing. Back out to the snow I went. In the end I probably could have used the correct measurement of cream. The ganache was a little too stiff and a little too set. I had to work it quickly with the knife before being able to spend it on the cake. Only having a small flat knife I had a hard time getting the cake to look smooth, but I never had any expectations of the perfect hot knife ganache that my sister pulls off every time. I smoothed the top off pretty well, filled in a couple of places where the cake had stuck to the tin and then left the edges and sides rustically messy. Carefully easing my chocolate writing off the paper and placing it on top I was done. And all that in just under and hour! </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I brought the cake out and Tancredi's smile more than made up for the stress of getting it done. I'd let him way the off cuts from when I'd evened out the top before we headed down for the ski thing, so he already knew it tasted pretty good but I don't think anyone was expecting it to look as cool as it did. I was super proud of how it worked out, it looked pretty specky so long as you didn't compare it to any of my sister's masterpieces. Everyone was super impressed, especially when I pointed out I'd never made it quite like this before and had never written with chocolate either! Sara's friend who was there too has asked if I can make another one for her sons birthday in a few days. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Later that night when we were in bed Tancredi said my cake was the best birthday present he got. =D</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG8yx-yvGiRNMstj5pLviBpiwwuUQqxEzpBQ3CHZgkGs7XntywWCOuTLuQ7I4gfczQxd3UiF-WTDhtFZAGEsbA6uq7CDbj-dFCu_KeoaobArKyk28P6EA-Wom91WCkpYUg-9zlfaIib3A/s1600/IMG_5803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG8yx-yvGiRNMstj5pLviBpiwwuUQqxEzpBQ3CHZgkGs7XntywWCOuTLuQ7I4gfczQxd3UiF-WTDhtFZAGEsbA6uq7CDbj-dFCu_KeoaobArKyk28P6EA-Wom91WCkpYUg-9zlfaIib3A/s320/IMG_5803.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6bzEF7aF0Of_CJ9089sGomOTkq3aHFPIYQ2o3sYuBriqK9XCvmBa3IAJi5_4Q-S656HJRXaKDcIIyKQaABZvcyacwDCFiTeTrCFKZ1X6SLXFGoCp15Xxo5NMs4gzcGsdxLnf6pKmdR00/s1600/IMG_5810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6bzEF7aF0Of_CJ9089sGomOTkq3aHFPIYQ2o3sYuBriqK9XCvmBa3IAJi5_4Q-S656HJRXaKDcIIyKQaABZvcyacwDCFiTeTrCFKZ1X6SLXFGoCp15Xxo5NMs4gzcGsdxLnf6pKmdR00/s320/IMG_5810.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAlTEDd-fj2qV4UIjnj6NoidKsDzHh9ksG8huzrAd_10n_hrtmUhbQzKRcVmfTZUj_9doB89QY7MdS65nZSIRNP40L_noOUp35AZdjsyEnsFPRJXVzfmxlXT7RkuxkHSt4Gv8Nm5TAg8/s1600/IMG_5811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAlTEDd-fj2qV4UIjnj6NoidKsDzHh9ksG8huzrAd_10n_hrtmUhbQzKRcVmfTZUj_9doB89QY7MdS65nZSIRNP40L_noOUp35AZdjsyEnsFPRJXVzfmxlXT7RkuxkHSt4Gv8Nm5TAg8/s320/IMG_5811.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrS_moeHY2g-g2OpihwomZ6Qit_2oZAZQwlaSP2qD7VKnl2Bbc-D9Opqvw9eLyvsD2VxHjMydNNoSXVafeb-_pvCIPxBALP_ZqkaTxGxqGYiTDFF_KNUnp3NDWklUNM98tqMCHMhJH8JY/s1600/IMG_5813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrS_moeHY2g-g2OpihwomZ6Qit_2oZAZQwlaSP2qD7VKnl2Bbc-D9Opqvw9eLyvsD2VxHjMydNNoSXVafeb-_pvCIPxBALP_ZqkaTxGxqGYiTDFF_KNUnp3NDWklUNM98tqMCHMhJH8JY/s320/IMG_5813.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-41749449800159717322014-01-01T23:25:00.001+01:002014-01-02T15:47:19.063+01:00Postius like a dog in snowius<div dir="ltr">
Sara has a apartment in a village called Sauze d'oux, 40mins outside of Turin, she infact has two. They were her husband's and they've had one 20 years and the other a little longer. Sauze is a skiing village so they're just small one/two room things with folding beds. In 2011 we came up here a couple of times during summer for fresh mountain air and walks and I had an absolute blast. Last time I managed to destroy me knees a bit from all the up and down hill walking so I had a day just around the apartment. Subsequently this is the only place Jace and I have slept that I haven't bought a bracelet for her, Annica and Bruce from. It's on my list for this time.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Since its ski season and school holidays for Christmas/New Year were up here again for 9 days this time. We headed up Saturday afternoon after I got back from Gabri's. When we first got up here we showed the second apparent to a family that's thinking of renting it for the season before heading to the better of the two where we're staying. It's quite nice for such a tiny place with two folding double beds, a folding single, permanent table, tiny kitchen and bathroom. I am quite fond if it despite how cramped it is with more than 3 or 4 people.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
In the process of getting to the first apartment I managed to sustain the first snow related injury of the trip. We were still in our 'city shoes', mine which have approximately no grip. We were walking down a driveway to hid from the snow a bit and I managed to slip over and land (not terribly hard) on one of my hips. I got up, shaked off the snow and moved on. The next day I sat a bit wonky and noticed my left greater trochanter was rather tender. I was surprised though that it didn't bruise.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
For dinner we headed out to meet up with one of Sara's friends and her daughter. The snow that had just started when we arrive picked up and I had a wonderful time walking around getting snowed on. I would point out to Tancre that it was snowing, joyfully turn my face to it and then complain that I got snow in my eye. Sara and Tancre, and indeed the friends too appear to have been quite amused by my joy at the snow. We had a few photos taken but somewhere in the gloved handing over of my camera we managed to get the camera on the wrong setting so none of them have worked out =( I'm hoping it snows again while I'm here to we can get some new ones.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
We ended up at a pizzeria for dinner and had to brush/tip off all our accumulated snow before going inside. Which I found extremely novel and everyone else less so. The snow at more or less stopped by the time we headed home again and I amused myself by walking in a picking up fresh, powdery snow. I've seen snow a few times before but never that fresh.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Sara and Tan conned me into playing a board game (patente punti) with them, assuring me it would be less than a half hour and we'd be off to bed at a sensible time. As it turns out me were playing until almost midnight =( the game is designed to teach kids about italian road rules before they get their drivers licence. It's a great idea given how complicated their road rules are and how their demerit points work. As you can imagine it was significantly more difficult for me, not just because all the question cards were in Italian but also they have strange rules and tragic lights I've never seen before. Despite all this however, I was the first person to arrive at the end with all 20 demerit points.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
In the process of playing a learnt a new italian word 'spinterogeno', distributor. I even got the question right, Tancredi got in (fake) trouble because he didn't know the answer and Valerio, his dad, was an auto electrician.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The next day we had a lazy morning before going through draws of old ski clothes so find some that fit me. It's pretty handy having a younger, growing brother. I've ended up with his ski pants and moon boots from last year, as well as his old ski boots and skis. I was amused that ski pants have build on braces so had Sara take a photo of me and Tan half dressed to show them off.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
That afternoon Tan and I headed off to a near by hill with a toboggan and a plastic shovel looking thing to catch up with some of his friends. The bucket was not so much fun but the toboggan with two people in it made for an exciting trip down the snow. The friend we caught up with had a plastic disk about 80cm across and with handles moulded in on either side, while he and Tancre went down in the toboggan I made the mistake of sitting on the disk and ended up doing backwards half the time. Apparently it works much better if you go down head first on your stomach with your arms trailing behind for course correction. It certainly gives more of a thrill that way, something about your face being 30cm from the fast moving and hard ground...</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Since it had snowed freshly the night before the bottom of the hill was a bank of fresh, uncompacted snow. Fresh uncompacted, deceiving, snow. You some to a stop on your chose moulded plastic of choice and go to stand up. Only to loose your leg, but to the knee, in previously unbroken snow. It makes for interesting work, getting out of an overturned sled with another person squished on/under you/the snow/the sled. Eventually this ends up in snow flying and Tancre, his friend Tommaso and I had a snow fight. Fresh powder snow doesn't make good snow balls but after you've walked around for a bit there are sizable chunks you can pick up and chuck.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
It was during said snow fight that I sustained snow related injury number two. Tommaso was using the disk sled as a shield and as he was passing it to me Tan threw a chunk of snow at us, I didn't have a good hold on the disk and as the snow hit it is hit my forehead. We continued playing and by the time the lump was obvious to Tancredi I was too cold to take him up on my need to put my face in the snow.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
We trudged back home for cups of tea and our books. Several times later in the day Sara could be over heard on the phone saying how it had snowed the day we arrived just to say welcome to me. And at one point Tancredi leaned over and asked me if I'd heard what she said, when I pointed out I haddn't been listening to her phone call he told me she was telling Corrado that I was playing in the snow like a puppy. I heard similar phrases in several other phone conversations she had that evening.... </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
+9 photos</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbp0nxJcRRZMR-onMQTPJfhIqFGG078RXSC-dR9tzYUB9FRLYkMPN3178cL7eutCh9-bCaLQYvKtUPukq3PhcAvMjGS-AnY2WA_AOi-4_LhID2J1f9UFCeQmYUEAY5c2pernkuWKgB2Cg/s1600/IMG_5771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbp0nxJcRRZMR-onMQTPJfhIqFGG078RXSC-dR9tzYUB9FRLYkMPN3178cL7eutCh9-bCaLQYvKtUPukq3PhcAvMjGS-AnY2WA_AOi-4_LhID2J1f9UFCeQmYUEAY5c2pernkuWKgB2Cg/s320/IMG_5771.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHULiWf40Andet0aovwWmXDRdZ6aA4biiXbIRLSX7D6NjKqBmzBvPQiClQSELLRHwet-uD8OtnVpfn2OBNceItjCqJj4BTv822TDD2YLqAw4iDUEwbDCPWTGeYQFuifceerPAbwrIbCDg/s1600/IMG_5774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHULiWf40Andet0aovwWmXDRdZ6aA4biiXbIRLSX7D6NjKqBmzBvPQiClQSELLRHwet-uD8OtnVpfn2OBNceItjCqJj4BTv822TDD2YLqAw4iDUEwbDCPWTGeYQFuifceerPAbwrIbCDg/s320/IMG_5774.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3oFm-osPFBmki66pygnBUYctihEml9cOqLaW73IrR0mxAlkuim0runOH9wKVCAInfUKdps6XrS-ZMoAGV8mReTH0bT3ayXGzeGqPwV4LmDuDY1UU8vwSa2ackGqmpcKCp2zqrsHN764/s1600/IMG_5780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3oFm-osPFBmki66pygnBUYctihEml9cOqLaW73IrR0mxAlkuim0runOH9wKVCAInfUKdps6XrS-ZMoAGV8mReTH0bT3ayXGzeGqPwV4LmDuDY1UU8vwSa2ackGqmpcKCp2zqrsHN764/s320/IMG_5780.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3-TBYtTvB9odKGK0JZcJpsJHSIs-Gx7wlDtU9VD3DF9uqjwx-ETx9N6zatr5Bgyp_uSDuBt8bzrv1O7AGerAW44fS9ow9cZKpXTvCFtr7S4cAjzg8Dp47OCoXSctw4JyO-s5ofnnsmU/s1600/IMG_5785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3-TBYtTvB9odKGK0JZcJpsJHSIs-Gx7wlDtU9VD3DF9uqjwx-ETx9N6zatr5Bgyp_uSDuBt8bzrv1O7AGerAW44fS9ow9cZKpXTvCFtr7S4cAjzg8Dp47OCoXSctw4JyO-s5ofnnsmU/s320/IMG_5785.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIypwl0obgjGz4cQufjPM3UQlYvnI-0EBi7IcKGtGFHleXvXBL2Z4uFJJydL9jUB6pthZXrdoCHfhb29LB2EJctB8KOcCQ8pLfBL3OMczepPRKzd22kPwAblXiJviKOfWXXa2ruz0h-tA/s1600/IMG_5787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIypwl0obgjGz4cQufjPM3UQlYvnI-0EBi7IcKGtGFHleXvXBL2Z4uFJJydL9jUB6pthZXrdoCHfhb29LB2EJctB8KOcCQ8pLfBL3OMczepPRKzd22kPwAblXiJviKOfWXXa2ruz0h-tA/s320/IMG_5787.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcQZhicMTxLiLNa80nzQ2bAgb84ArJfs4Ksrg3CwMRFq4W0ZJ8cNQGTOumflLCY2ww0rfB47yNKLSUc6d63PZQsTGpkNZQ3pvJ0vE0mxxAmj0v6x4Tj4ilc9rUQSzFwX8tRV6YV0cWgg/s1600/IMG_5788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcQZhicMTxLiLNa80nzQ2bAgb84ArJfs4Ksrg3CwMRFq4W0ZJ8cNQGTOumflLCY2ww0rfB47yNKLSUc6d63PZQsTGpkNZQ3pvJ0vE0mxxAmj0v6x4Tj4ilc9rUQSzFwX8tRV6YV0cWgg/s320/IMG_5788.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighfb5yQEueIn6GKHgUBs5Zzf9U-hBPlzBqdfO2Z5YbVd5T9MIWsuj9OZ1aG9c7p1vcROIxBlJTiT9dw-Wu2z9TPjed6YX2LDZ1GhejC0wxKTWFjs396ZHSosL_EpPjoWfd_6uhQ6rxyA/s1600/IMG_5793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighfb5yQEueIn6GKHgUBs5Zzf9U-hBPlzBqdfO2Z5YbVd5T9MIWsuj9OZ1aG9c7p1vcROIxBlJTiT9dw-Wu2z9TPjed6YX2LDZ1GhejC0wxKTWFjs396ZHSosL_EpPjoWfd_6uhQ6rxyA/s320/IMG_5793.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJRV_ZLUiWXjwwGh3yvhb2P4vV0ua5IGDqDDWp8Co5hf2fQHKiiOqonT-aygDHXkpITW_BN9bOIf-Oeb_2rd3ZwRSKNKSWhKIHP0_OVKvKR7aGU4VkUl19DygIYFOn9vnoEy2mOwo0Xg/s1600/IMG_5794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJRV_ZLUiWXjwwGh3yvhb2P4vV0ua5IGDqDDWp8Co5hf2fQHKiiOqonT-aygDHXkpITW_BN9bOIf-Oeb_2rd3ZwRSKNKSWhKIHP0_OVKvKR7aGU4VkUl19DygIYFOn9vnoEy2mOwo0Xg/s320/IMG_5794.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSs0CIZZzPIaBz14XS2SvuA6kHxo8o6WvFpabn4muO0YnFPEVmIf4XdWjwoGDpsrPnAavyq9Bvtg0hZpraHhqes8Xv8b-8LWxqGSdZ0nLZccjxCo9zCCCYLN9pnMKGlD_2xGC_Jh_-tw/s1600/IMG_5800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSs0CIZZzPIaBz14XS2SvuA6kHxo8o6WvFpabn4muO0YnFPEVmIf4XdWjwoGDpsrPnAavyq9Bvtg0hZpraHhqes8Xv8b-8LWxqGSdZ0nLZccjxCo9zCCCYLN9pnMKGlD_2xGC_Jh_-tw/s320/IMG_5800.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-52221017919512996512013-12-31T15:35:00.001+01:002014-01-02T14:34:16.659+01:00Postius I visited Gabri, Giu and Cleoius<div dir="ltr">
+2 photos</div>
<div dir="ltr">
When I first got my sim sorted out I sent a message off to Gabri, my first host mum, to let her know the number and also to work out a time when we could catch up. I didn't hear back straight away and my first few weeks in Italy slipped by in a new language and post exam haze of tiredness. Before long every email from my mum ended with 'when are you going to see Gabri?' i sent her another text and when I didn't hear back this time sent one with Facebook too. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
She was super excited to hear from me, we still don't know what happened to the messages but she was joking that she thought I'd died. With plans to spend 9 days at the mountains with Sara we weren't left with very much time to catch up =( after all the Christmas fuss calmed down I headed off for dinner with Gabri and Giu and to spend the night. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Walking in the door I got enveloped in giant hugs and when they were over almost knocked down by how hard Cleo was wagging her tail. It was just like coming home. They also live in a house, not an apartment, but it is much smaller and cosier than Sara's and despite the fact I was only there 2 months I'd say I'm more attached to that house than Sara's. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Everything was almost exactly as I remember, the coat rack was slightly closer to the wall, and they'd just got a new microwave (the old one still on the dining table). They'd upgraded the tv (and got Skye), the Christmas tree was out and Cleo's chin had gone a bit white but Giu still had the same key ring and the same tablecloth was out. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
When we'd made plans Gabri said we'd have pizza so I didn't mention I couldn't eat things, figuring it would be easier to explain in person where I could order pizza without cheese or farinata, a Chickpea flour pancake. This was an oversight on my part. Having remembered how much I loved pasta she'd made pasta al forno (baked pasta, sort of like Lasagna but make with pasta instead of sheets) topped with fresh mozzarella. I ate it very happily for it was absolutely delicious. I had gluten enzymes in my bag so wasn't worried about the pasta and had been good regarding cheese altering being rather ill a few days before Christmas. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I cannot stress how delicious it was, I've been eating gluten free pasta for years and while it's passable I had forgot just how much better proper pasta was. I declined to finish my meal with more cheese, not wanting to tempt fate too much, but it wasn't one of my favourites anyway. Not only was my weight loss (back to my normal) commented on, but also how much better my skin was doing. When I stayed with Gabri and Giu, and in fact for most of my stay in Italy I had terrible skin, I thought at the time from the gluten. I have now though changed my mind, believing that it's actually from eggs; when I first arrived we found some delicious GF biscuits but they were 9% egg. Thinking it wouldn't kill me too much so long as I only ate them for a little while I had them for breakfast most days. About ⅔ through the packet my body decide that was enough, my skin was super oily and there was barely 2cm between pimples. Once I started baking my own biscuits and finished the backed of store bought ones my skin cleared up pretty quickly. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
I explained to Gabri that I was allergic to eggs so we think that was mainly why, but it also happens if I eat too much milk, which also allowed me to explain why I had brought soy milk for breakfast. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
After dinner we all plunked down in front of the tv and alternated between watching it and talking. I was super proud that I did the whole thing completely in Italian. I didn't have any other choice, Gabri knows only a few words of English and Giu has forgotten most of hers since she finished school. There was much hand waving and pausing as I tried to think of the right word or conjugation. I know that my grammar was very poor, most of what I was trying to say required several different forms of past tense and I've only ever learnt the two most basic. I stuck with just using them or swapping back to present simple when quoting someone. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Gabri was super impressed with my italian, even going so far as to say it was better then hers (which is an obvious and extreme lie, but appreciated all the same). When I stayed with them for my exchange I was basically mute. I could understand very little italian and speak even less. When I got home from school I would retreat to my room to sleep, read or play around with my computer, anything really on my own, in silence and away from Italian. At the time I used to listen to music while I went to sleep but was complete unable to for several months, falling into bed each night completely exhausted and with my mind in absolute overdrive. I might not have been speaking italian I sure was trying my absolute best to pick up and follow what I could. The only real time I would spend around the house with other people would be after dinner. I'd make an effort to sit on the couch and try and follow some TV, or play around on my computer there. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Gabri revealed that she'd been really worried about me, always being shut up in my room and sleeping all the time. I spent a while trying to explain it to her but she still couldn't understand why I had been so tired when I never did anything with my time. I finally pointed out it was my brain that was tired from trying to follow conversations where I knew so little, trying to puzzle out what on earth was being talked about. When we got to this point it seemed to click into place for them just how difficult those first few months had been. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Half way through the night Gabri declared how nice it was to actually get to see the real me, who could communicate and was boisterously waving her arms, and how different it was to how I'd been before. It was a really great night the three of us an Cleo all sprawled on the couch, discussing something when it came to mind and settling in to watch TV in between. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
We did presents after dinner and there was much sighing and exclaiming over the fact that i shouldn't have brought so many things (a present each and novelty ice cube tray). For Gabri i had bought a blue glass necklace that she insisted on putting on straight away and was wearing again the next morning with her pyjamas. I was pleasantly surprised that when Giu opened her present she excitedly asked if it was a room perfumer and pointed out she was in fact in need of one, I shouldn't have been stressed at all. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
From Gabri and Giu i got a beautiful new scarf and a scalda mani (a small instantaneous reusable heat pack). Throughout the night Gabri also gave me a blue glass eye bead from Greece for luck and a pair of cuffie (earmuffs) for the mountains. The earmuffs were hers but she was very insistent in gifting them to me, with little use for them in Australia I will probably return them when I visit again when I'm back from the mountains. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
January 6th is Befana, the day when a good 'witch' come around and gives coal to bad children and a you/caramelle to good children. It's the day we're heading home from the mountains so I've promised to go back and visit again that night or the next. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf0D9T-pyJdufR6aF8kGX98186LBLl6heqjQ5dIUkXBFN3wIVNvYcJcp6KYw7HiUaMnqO1VxcxP1bn7DU1xJAwt4gL6X99VzPAbxzkukw26pKy5lGVA8aEu8db2clQApldixVIhr9aOuU/s1600/IMG_5764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf0D9T-pyJdufR6aF8kGX98186LBLl6heqjQ5dIUkXBFN3wIVNvYcJcp6KYw7HiUaMnqO1VxcxP1bn7DU1xJAwt4gL6X99VzPAbxzkukw26pKy5lGVA8aEu8db2clQApldixVIhr9aOuU/s320/IMG_5764.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-B1bPvMD_u74jk_VuMV4X8Z32iatMFdSNri982E5YKSh0Twrs0TyFCm8-65o0JyQJTAHulL-kJYqBPb2yrLi5sPw40WW2NFZ3Ay13juqVDLhZ8t2Azawd-5nUqStsIwwe1_m6mbxkeZc/s1600/IMG_5769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-B1bPvMD_u74jk_VuMV4X8Z32iatMFdSNri982E5YKSh0Twrs0TyFCm8-65o0JyQJTAHulL-kJYqBPb2yrLi5sPw40WW2NFZ3Ay13juqVDLhZ8t2Azawd-5nUqStsIwwe1_m6mbxkeZc/s320/IMG_5769.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-56058870183232097682013-12-31T14:36:00.001+01:002014-01-02T15:06:09.609+01:00Postius two biscuits in one nightius<div class="mobile-photo">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXltldXv11xWhKnJ6ypzPe2dNJVeNxFK21axv_O43wjOrNFDaN8TIHzIWPKj96KFPTibz_WfParD6igowgvniGr_EftIgGUYDjJCMXODQYCVgEwtsSq84POPpV8HMR67WDAo9Ayxbingc/s1600/1387645264962-765413.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5963549056552256002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXltldXv11xWhKnJ6ypzPe2dNJVeNxFK21axv_O43wjOrNFDaN8TIHzIWPKj96KFPTibz_WfParD6igowgvniGr_EftIgGUYDjJCMXODQYCVgEwtsSq84POPpV8HMR67WDAo9Ayxbingc/s320/1387645264962-765413.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
+4 photos</div>
<div dir="ltr">
A week or so ago now I decided if there was more choice of biscuit it would take longer for all the ones wanted to eat to disappear so I set out to make two differnt types in one afternoon. The day previously in a small window of time I had at home to myself I blended up some fresh almond butter in the Bimby. Probably I stopped before it was quite runny enough for one of the recipes but I added some extra coconut oil to make it up. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Sara was visiting Corrado at Venice for the weekend so we had cousin Bianca and her mum, Jose, staying with us. The time with them made me very thankful for how quickly and how well Sara worked me out. Neither would really take the time to modify their Italian so I could follow (and I honestly had no interest in it either) and if ever I was content eating in silence Bianca would decide I was apparently just waiting for someone to talk to me in english. The trouble is when I'm putting effort into listening to italian the change back to English isn't the easiest. And 'Breanna speak in english' isn't really the best conversation starter. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Over lunch one day I managed to pick out some words that indicated someone was going out in the afternoon but since no one had told me about it I assumed it didn't effect me, I though Bianca had basketball practice. A few hours later when Jose walks up to me and Tan and asks if we're ready to leave or need to do anything before we go she seemed rather affronted when I said I didn't want to go. Later when they were all heading out the door she asked me again if I was sure I didn't want to come and maybe I'd changed my mind. I was a bit frustrated by that point, I still had no idea where they were going and I had explained I needed some time on my own, Bianca is 16 and seems to take great joy in making ridiculous amounts of noise when playing stupid games with Tancredi. I cannot stand people who think that being an introvert is a bad thing, no, I do not /want/ to be an extrovert, I want some time to my self. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /> I compensated by going to the gym and then making the almond butter. The next afternoon Tancredi and I set about making the biscuits together. Both were almond based, one sort of like jammy dodgers and the other just a nondescript biscuit. The jam ones are super delicious and a great texture also. The other ones though ate quite plain and I would probably blend the almonds longer next time to have a finer meal and i would press them a litter thinner although. They do however make a great excuse for eating Nutella at breakfast. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
During this baking session I managed to finish off the 250ml bottle of maple syrup I'd opened the week before, but don't tell anyone! </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5B3XQAR9Y7eI-mcQuaDEGLRlrHlrdPWTFzxwBvuyFco08PieeXqGVpKVK5FmwrPo594GwXI3fh5GHuNsB8pgQcVFfTUWjEY-ojkDBKG9VuW3qMMQ96PO_grU1x56WPfsO8HWyLZ8nWOY/s1600/IMG_5724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5B3XQAR9Y7eI-mcQuaDEGLRlrHlrdPWTFzxwBvuyFco08PieeXqGVpKVK5FmwrPo594GwXI3fh5GHuNsB8pgQcVFfTUWjEY-ojkDBKG9VuW3qMMQ96PO_grU1x56WPfsO8HWyLZ8nWOY/s320/IMG_5724.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBGyx0VwMs4jIDso5FdungPG-FxrjCnGDiqxhTj8n2lcQ_8KhQItruNpSrCo3e8SyTg5iuM0zVr9m5zs29wsXLtn-wPk3k1RAIv7gI2J4VWymVCasNbDLqZyd3-QglFHT0AWUz0ztF4s/s1600/IMG_5725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBGyx0VwMs4jIDso5FdungPG-FxrjCnGDiqxhTj8n2lcQ_8KhQItruNpSrCo3e8SyTg5iuM0zVr9m5zs29wsXLtn-wPk3k1RAIv7gI2J4VWymVCasNbDLqZyd3-QglFHT0AWUz0ztF4s/s320/IMG_5725.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLNJe9qMPXYeDGLC9sqt2jzAXU_O2NfBWT6U5JFvBvG8q3uWfmdUrPIV1gOryNoMvGuKQU4Mz0zLcTB9Pf-6dMhyphenhyphenvs4047Iwr8kKAo10dtSmHuRvTkot4lxlKShQE53c16QNsx2-S4GY/s1600/IMG_5730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLNJe9qMPXYeDGLC9sqt2jzAXU_O2NfBWT6U5JFvBvG8q3uWfmdUrPIV1gOryNoMvGuKQU4Mz0zLcTB9Pf-6dMhyphenhyphenvs4047Iwr8kKAo10dtSmHuRvTkot4lxlKShQE53c16QNsx2-S4GY/s320/IMG_5730.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_kpgBgQVZcgnuS4Xa6fILaKMxBdC0pIrjp4bWK-FlRh3MM4v83ySa49WHneACLcOwhyxRejExEWnOemW9j_K4FB-9drE87I7oEau2Bvb94Hg55R_oo2R5icO7qBu4IdR_55cXGeDB-8/s1600/IMG_5734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_kpgBgQVZcgnuS4Xa6fILaKMxBdC0pIrjp4bWK-FlRh3MM4v83ySa49WHneACLcOwhyxRejExEWnOemW9j_K4FB-9drE87I7oEau2Bvb94Hg55R_oo2R5icO7qBu4IdR_55cXGeDB-8/s320/IMG_5734.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-50283721156546785822013-12-30T18:35:00.001+01:002014-01-03T12:09:32.058+01:00Postius about Christmasius<div dir="ltr">
So December 8th is some sort of religious public holiday that most people use to put up Christmas decorations. Tancredi and I constructed the tree while hassling Selene to help is decorate it. We had a few issues with light distribution but eventually gave up with them spend unevenly. Most of the decorations were glass based but there were also the occasional plastic one made by Tancre when he was little and a few fabric ones that look to me. More like decorations for around the house. But Sara insisted we put them on also.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcK4rtSV4COPdfdceECa5j9v9cBFcA_V18r73daZyQkiSIoJjFishw79HgZa3O9iSSa0oH5dKvZFGhJY0CkkaMkJm5Y3I4A8Tbd9KX1GISym6JZAE_l758fiCkdFrvpucEqLRRC7nLeWE/s1600/IMG_5565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcK4rtSV4COPdfdceECa5j9v9cBFcA_V18r73daZyQkiSIoJjFishw79HgZa3O9iSSa0oH5dKvZFGhJY0CkkaMkJm5Y3I4A8Tbd9KX1GISym6JZAE_l758fiCkdFrvpucEqLRRC7nLeWE/s320/IMG_5565.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Next came the nativity set. It turns out that my experience of nativities was far from the normal here. The one I am used to is my Nanna's and consists just of a stable, a few animals and all the other usual players. The one Tancredi and I constructed takes up the entire top of a chest of draws. And that's incredibly crowded too.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
There are three different bridges and a well, all of which have to line up and then we used alfoil to create a river between it all. There is a sheep enclosure the size my Nanna's entire set, and so many people there's little space for them all. Mostly we disregarded perspective and just put people where they fitted although we did manage to get one lady washing her clothes in the river.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I managed to convince Tancredi to give the snow a miss this year and he in turn scolded me for putting jesus in his crib before the Christmas. Also the wise men aren't allowed to be there yet.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXmZ3cv8EFlcnVpQOd4dZNog2rnFJj30rQpTOIRaGrkae3Fzk8qji4CSNvItjfkctemrmAiGcehgFCDf09oKACmVdcD5lzIufuxtsAbD2saya5CR87Ov1day0-TnAoU7Eymw7wDp_Ow4/s1600/IMG_5573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXmZ3cv8EFlcnVpQOd4dZNog2rnFJj30rQpTOIRaGrkae3Fzk8qji4CSNvItjfkctemrmAiGcehgFCDf09oKACmVdcD5lzIufuxtsAbD2saya5CR87Ov1day0-TnAoU7Eymw7wDp_Ow4/s320/IMG_5573.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I must say I am rather proud of my presents this year. And not just how fancy they look all wrapped up. Mum and I went to lots of markets my last few weekends in Australia (including two right before I left!) looking for gift, mostly for my families here, but I also had an eye out for others to. Of all the presents I bought there's only one that I'm not entirely happy with, but it was the best we saw. It's for Giu, we were stuck for so long an ended up getting her a carved pine cone wardrobe perfume thing.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkIHEtAlGKneS_kEdIbifE8rxIo42bah6jDfQQS6EB6iq8h4XgcsEloHLUfBhDPjnqRIjdHHAtiVF5oP__CK0dNX4DX9yfRZ79bwj1C8eeHdcD72qkS5cHU2lX3r1HIiMYALzesqojRQ/s1600/IMG_5711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkIHEtAlGKneS_kEdIbifE8rxIo42bah6jDfQQS6EB6iq8h4XgcsEloHLUfBhDPjnqRIjdHHAtiVF5oP__CK0dNX4DX9yfRZ79bwj1C8eeHdcD72qkS5cHU2lX3r1HIiMYALzesqojRQ/s320/IMG_5711.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The great thing about having exams in November is that internet shopping for Christmas presents fits nicely into breaks, so between that and the markets/craft fairs I had most of my shopping done before I left. I've been wrapping my presents in a pretty similar way for a few years now, initially I used brown paper and coloured ribbon but the perfect ribbon is hard to come by and so is the right type of brown paper.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I brought a roll of gold with me to Italy so I could show off my usual wrapping style, but i still had to find ribbon. I was thinking 1" fabric and colours but I spotted this silver in the house and it looked really nice. I have since bought myself 10m to bring home and last me the next few years!</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Christmas in the Giovannini house works like this; tree and nativity go up Dec 6, Nonno Aldo does the outside lights around the same time, then, you continue to ignore the fact Christmas is approaching all the way up until the 24th (with the exception of accompanying Nonna Irma on frequent shopping trips), then on the 24th you start cooking for the big dinner that night. This only really starts after lunch though since Sara is at work. Then you set up tables for the ~20 friends+family who come over for dinner that night.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
This seems to be a bit of a 'those who don't have other family' thing, but it's hard to say since the families of Tancredi's and Selene's best friends were there. This format works out well because it means that no one person has to do all the cooking. Fully prepared to survive on large portions of a few dishes that were Breanna compatible I was surprised that everyone had put the effort into making a dish I could eat. When their usual offering contained something that I couldn't eat most people had made an alternate dish or modified some so that I could have it too. I felt very well looked after.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The one course I knew it would be hard to work around, though, was dessert. There are only so many integral ingredients you can substitute before things start to go wrong. The week before when Sara and Selene had created the food list for the night I snuck 'Breanna's cake' onto the list, so that i'd have something to contribute also. I didn't admit until the 23rd when we were writing the shopping list that my cake needed 6 eggs and fresh cream (bonus points if you can guess what I was making).</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Earlier in the week I'd quizzed Tancre on the Christmas proceedings and ascertained that presents happened at midnight. And while the thought of such a long day was discouraging it did mean it provided a convenient time to talk to my family in aus.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
It turns out that everyone else was also discourage by the thought of having to wait until midnight so we did presents at 11 instead. Tancredi was super excited when he unwrapped Perth addition Monopoly and we were playing it within 15 minutes! From Tan, Sele and Sara i got a lovely blue jumper, it's super soft and super warm and I just want to wear it all the time! Nonna Irma gave me a new red handbag since my old one is wearing out, and the mum of Selene's friend found me a jar of gluten free, Dairy free hazelnut spread which was lovely of her(she also heartily embraced the concept of making food experiments I could eat for dinner). </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
We played monopoly for 2+ hours straight, only stopping because I had organised to talk with my family at 1am and everyone else used this as an excuse to go home to bed. Dad, it turns out was more interested in his ham on toast breakfast than having an extended chat to me, but it was nice to catch up with everyone for Christmas. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Christmas Day we headed off to an aunt's house near Pinerolo (~50min drive) for lunch. Sara has decided not to tell her about all the things I can't eat, knowing there'd be lots of food so I could just choose what I could eat. This was true but the aunt was serving all the food so I felt bad always having to say no to the delicious looking cheese filled things. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The aunt's son was a carpenter but when work stopped being easy to find he went and learnt how to make bread. He bakes using a wood fire over and also makes bread without yeast (so i assume sour dough). He has a lovely workshop, all of the pine furnishings he made by hand. I would have loved to take some photos but my phone was flat and no one told me the reason we were going outside was to look at it so I didn't have my big camera =(</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
He made all the bread that was on the table at lunch, there were three different kinds; white, uvetta, and whole grain (all were delicious) and lots of them too! For mains we had anatra alla arancia (duck with orange) and while some bits were delicious others were quite dry. The ducks where ones they had on their property and Tancre asked about them, apparently they were both silver and green, their third duck had apparently been eaten in a previous meal. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Probably my favourite part of the whole meal was dessert. This is the course that is the most difficult for me to find something to eat so I was resigned to just stealing tastes from people. Until they bought out home made Panettone, in a traditional style that is much flatter than what we traditionally associate with Panettone. I stole a bit of Sara's and it was absolutely delicious. I decided that it's only Christmas once a year, and if there's one thing I eat that's wrong it may as well be home made Panettone. It was super delicious. As I commented to Sara, there is only one smell I have in my smell memory that smells like Panettone. That smell means Panettone and Christmas and it's great. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
+10 photos<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqcMIkskJTt91CBBc_jEzLlddjiNNfW1wkSM_wYWHIkiIFiAIa6Y_msywclx4aCLw46-9K6TsZ_flplr5AydGc28jo1nty8EKmNh-NHfoi5hDtbU4ERrhkpIR_u8BDvyGGBUpyMV7bf4/s1600/IMG_5738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqcMIkskJTt91CBBc_jEzLlddjiNNfW1wkSM_wYWHIkiIFiAIa6Y_msywclx4aCLw46-9K6TsZ_flplr5AydGc28jo1nty8EKmNh-NHfoi5hDtbU4ERrhkpIR_u8BDvyGGBUpyMV7bf4/s320/IMG_5738.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQd1Pg1cxokjSv_g5tXQDjzqbtGfX1riKUvUUWz2id_ziVXismgCSakC_7TesI1LDVKE92hWklbYmS75Y88UsEcGRoHO_l18vFeU756DEIo_x6q2Si8BCJT5AQxsjXT2ZgzYteufCaLRY/s1600/IMG_5739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQd1Pg1cxokjSv_g5tXQDjzqbtGfX1riKUvUUWz2id_ziVXismgCSakC_7TesI1LDVKE92hWklbYmS75Y88UsEcGRoHO_l18vFeU756DEIo_x6q2Si8BCJT5AQxsjXT2ZgzYteufCaLRY/s320/IMG_5739.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNktOsfYHrQIg7eodE81LfsFDLfYkRbu0C87iZtvqAgD8YRxzC5l6zn0IBMJWUTRaO8tuRMVQweIjk841gram3b9vvafsHePKu2lzkjK8f_WyCYiC4DiYH9ZwYkkH_Noey0noeXJBNlW4/s1600/IMG_5740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNktOsfYHrQIg7eodE81LfsFDLfYkRbu0C87iZtvqAgD8YRxzC5l6zn0IBMJWUTRaO8tuRMVQweIjk841gram3b9vvafsHePKu2lzkjK8f_WyCYiC4DiYH9ZwYkkH_Noey0noeXJBNlW4/s320/IMG_5740.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkoh9ULBLusPBxwiyPgAVbAo7YLmRhREnMkKnTm9cTRO4UsKXHObpXY-jo30m3rqIV5gDFd_sn1LNZdP_Gz-EaEjcx4ouBT1bBGyk08M0_Z_-pzWlzmtcQgC0DBjDn9uZhwN4rwz0dip4/s1600/IMG_5744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkoh9ULBLusPBxwiyPgAVbAo7YLmRhREnMkKnTm9cTRO4UsKXHObpXY-jo30m3rqIV5gDFd_sn1LNZdP_Gz-EaEjcx4ouBT1bBGyk08M0_Z_-pzWlzmtcQgC0DBjDn9uZhwN4rwz0dip4/s320/IMG_5744.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9crNyq7FOk1k0XbxOUg_ajqe54ZRd83LX7zVEkYtIhlw-WFl0E8E4oOnKO6bI2s-KIX2xNXudrdpj5wKMIfD0q9CVu_AxCqX_D1U6pJouW_Nk8h0nfcFEg4BI3s36Wz_WEatHYGRwu4Y/s1600/IMG_5745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9crNyq7FOk1k0XbxOUg_ajqe54ZRd83LX7zVEkYtIhlw-WFl0E8E4oOnKO6bI2s-KIX2xNXudrdpj5wKMIfD0q9CVu_AxCqX_D1U6pJouW_Nk8h0nfcFEg4BI3s36Wz_WEatHYGRwu4Y/s320/IMG_5745.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1eCl_cknBeSmBsICLU0QUqA1cYKOTmcVjQ7vXeEqyUKN8tmxFQ6G_87RyD38A9jCSzp40RlNeN15s5s8z7HV0C8FN5WQlUnwANnDgEgWRR2DBAghtJ9TqD5Loq7CetWwR243xSPokcU/s1600/IMG_5749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1eCl_cknBeSmBsICLU0QUqA1cYKOTmcVjQ7vXeEqyUKN8tmxFQ6G_87RyD38A9jCSzp40RlNeN15s5s8z7HV0C8FN5WQlUnwANnDgEgWRR2DBAghtJ9TqD5Loq7CetWwR243xSPokcU/s320/IMG_5749.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1z49ndPMkhdpzJ1_Gv786IFPsri73i_07KeNnCPMudLp1kjVuHV_EedXAoPISpN1hpHQsIJE1cmDb2uSJk4mTTBN1sPuFmIu5Cemses_OXqnsCA4mLOxkBTZmt_KxMzCcpPuW4Vz_Ac/s1600/IMG_5752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1z49ndPMkhdpzJ1_Gv786IFPsri73i_07KeNnCPMudLp1kjVuHV_EedXAoPISpN1hpHQsIJE1cmDb2uSJk4mTTBN1sPuFmIu5Cemses_OXqnsCA4mLOxkBTZmt_KxMzCcpPuW4Vz_Ac/s320/IMG_5752.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-48254588777771702792013-12-22T12:50:00.001+01:002013-12-22T12:50:30.305+01:00Updateius I did yogaius<p dir="ltr">The gym in signed up at has two rooms where they run classes, most are things like fitbox, step and spinning (read high impact/cardio activities I hate) but they also have pilates, yoga and stretching. I bit intimidated by my inability to understand much italian I tried to timeda few of my visits so I could peek through the window and see if I'd be able to keep up. I only actually managed to do this with pilates but after researching the type of yoga they offered I figured I'd be able to remember enough of it from my years ago yoga classes to get through it. That and I could cheat and follow the people around me.</p> <p dir="ltr">When I got there most people seemed like regulars, they had their own mats and were catching up. One of the ladies had a mat from the gym so I asked if I had to so anything special or just grab a mat. I was one of the new youngest in the class, there was another girl around my age and then the next youngest was a lady probably in her mod thirties. When the instructor arrived (a little late, for which he was jokingly chastised) he checked that it was my first time there. Despite not having pre organised a response I think I did an alright job of explaining I was from Australia but had done a bit of toga there. They wanted to know what I was doing here so we had a group chat about how I went on exchange and was back from Christmas. Everyone was jealous of my being from Australia, it seems to be idolised as a place everyone wishes to visit. </p> <p dir="ltr">I got a little lost with the beginning poses but once we'd warmed up we moved into sun salutations and warrior poses, All ones I'd do w previously. The style was a little bit different to what I was used to, more dynamic and less about holding and breathing into a pose. That took a little whole to get used to but before long I was doing alright. I got corrected a bunch but mostly for things like where to have my elbows and how to point my toes, All things I hadn't understood properly. </p> <p dir="ltr">The instructor was really nice and took time to help us into some of the weirder poses, like headstands and back bends, if we wanted to try them. He also came by and stretched me into a few of the poses that my hamstrings or QLs where making difficult. </p> <p dir="ltr">I had a bit if a hard time getting into the right mind set, concentrating so much on the Italian and trying to remember the poses correctly kept distracting me but I still had a pretty good time. At the end one of the ladies farewelled me as a friend (with cheek kisses) and the instructor asked if I'd be back. The gym is closed for the next few sessions because of Christmas and befany so there's only one more before I head home. Only problem is its after my gym membership expires. We're away at the mountains for a little over a week after Christmas so i'm waiting until Monday when the nice lady works so see if I can swap that week for the four days after my card expires before I head home. Fingers crossed for that. </p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-44284310961339503282013-12-21T15:50:00.001+01:002014-01-02T15:06:16.807+01:00Postius finally some food no one will eatius<div dir="ltr">
For whatever optimistic reason I decided to make gluten free shortbread. I cannot recall now why I thought it would be a good idea, shortbread contains a lot of butter, hence it being called short. Gluten free pastries are generally more fragile than those containing gluten, so too are those using a vegetable based butter replacement. When I look at it like that this recipe was set for disaster from the beginning. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The end product was not /catastrophic/, they're quite delicate but don't crumble when you look at them. However they're not the most delicious thing I've ever made. This is due mainly to the flavour of the margarine, I imagine that could be improved by using one with a more natural taste. They're also quite powery in taste and texture, in part this could be due to using inaccurate measure or because I substituted cornflour for the arrowroot the recipe asked for. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Over all they're edible, especially when dunked in nesquik at breakfast time, but not so delicious that they evaporate in 24 hours. There are infact around 10 left 4 days later! </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Gluten free vegan shortbread was the only less than successful cooking experiment of the day. I'd decided to make some GF savoury crackers so that I could snack without dying from sugar overdose. The all purpose go flour I'd bought turned out to really fine (mostly rice I think) which meant I had to add significantly more water than the recipe called for to get it to come together. Next drama was I couldn't find a rolling pin. I knew there was one, I'd used it before, I even texted Selene, she said there was some but she had no clue where. I ended up using a bottle of wine. It worked well enough but it turned out I hadn't rolled the dough thin enough, edge pieces were deliciously crispy but the majority were 2.5mm thick and /very/ hard. I still managed to break my jaw through them all in a few days though. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
And genius brain me, decided to make an eggplant relish to go with the crackers. I consulted with Liberty and we decided on a recipe. Possibly due to the small quantity or possibly due to my incompetence it didn't work so well. The Bimby wouldn't pick up the mix to blend it and in the end I had a small bowl of spongey eggplant and garlic chunks. I'm not going to give that one another go, instead today I bought some raw almonds and am going to try a Bimby recipe for carrot relish/dip. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8nr77rb5phyphenhyphenXxy478Wjwjok2YIQyN0UZdTRBxERmEyBfa3q9kxdR3ZBReTu4tx_McAS3B19wObpR96URCatziTF94VDYZUB-w-Gf7A7UZz0y5H__ZXvFV0um8JIlyqrSLssKEM9ZQRJ0/s1600/IMG_5659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8nr77rb5phyphenhyphenXxy478Wjwjok2YIQyN0UZdTRBxERmEyBfa3q9kxdR3ZBReTu4tx_McAS3B19wObpR96URCatziTF94VDYZUB-w-Gf7A7UZz0y5H__ZXvFV0um8JIlyqrSLssKEM9ZQRJ0/s320/IMG_5659.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-43343388240855389062013-12-17T11:48:00.001+01:002013-12-19T21:28:49.118+01:00Updateius the best way to shell a hazelnutius<div dir="ltr">
With the rice crispy slice almost gone I decided it was time to bake something else. When I went on my initial quest for ingredients I had three recipes in mind; cookies, rice crispies and brownies. So most of the ingredients I already had. However the brownies used mostly almond flour, at 4€/100g I decided we'd check out actual almonds at the markets instead. Tancredi and I were being lazy on Saturday so I asked Sara to pick some up for me when she went. She came back with a half kilo bag of fresh flour, apparently it was cheaper than the while nuts. So now I'm all set for most of the things I could wish to cook. I've even started a little pantry of my own next to the microwave and behind the fruit bowl. <br /> </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Yesterday afternoon I popped to the shops to pick up some chocolate and margine (also conditioner since I managed to get two shampoos the last time) and set out cooking. I started quite late, about 6.30 and anticipated having another stressful baking session once everyone else arrived home. Fortunately however it was just 10mins before baking was complete that everyone arrived. Perfect timing. <br /> </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Now the original recipe called for crushed walnuts but Sara had a bowl of hazelnuts sitting around and they go just as well, I'd not better, with chocolate so I decided to use them instead I grabbed a couple handfuls and set about shelling them. The first few were catastrophic; completely smashed with bits if shell everywhere. I tried a couple applying less pressure but to the apex and base, it worked perfectly, the shell would split longitudinally, leaving the nut intact. After discovering this is was much quicker but still tedious work. I admire our ancestors for having the patience to acquire sustenance this way. I personally wouldn't want to crack nuts with my jaw, even if I /had/ wisdom teeth... <br /> </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The rest went off without a hitch. Only problem with me baking delicious vegan things is that I get these stupid sugar/carb cravings and will happily eat the whole mix before its cooled! It's delicious though, raw and cooked. Selene even gave it her tick of approval. She still askes if my baking adventure is vegan but it's lost its sceptical tone. She seems to be content that things can be absolutely delicious and still with out eggs, butter, milk or flour. She even provides great feedback; the brownies are less crunchy and without the specific gooey layer you get in normal ones but over all more squishy. I'm glad to have converted her. It's great proof these things can be comparably delicious. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The recipe is once again from <a href="http://ohsheglows.com/">ohsheglows.com</a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Next up are GF vegan crackers and a thermomix dip relish to go with them. I'm having trouble finding many plausible thermomix recipes, most require fancy/strange/out of season ingredients, but I'll get there, I promise! </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrubmy5V0UbnjNqurXVDu3HdAz-29jINSLHI1xSe4nHnRWpPJ7kz5fFccYw0g7wEKI4vVG5b3NNUyaKEoy0U4u9xRLXA156J1xn21nfTVNOX3-OW2fmSB6WR2BSFdJxtvcGS_KbZKbG0/s1600/IMG_5643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrubmy5V0UbnjNqurXVDu3HdAz-29jINSLHI1xSe4nHnRWpPJ7kz5fFccYw0g7wEKI4vVG5b3NNUyaKEoy0U4u9xRLXA156J1xn21nfTVNOX3-OW2fmSB6WR2BSFdJxtvcGS_KbZKbG0/s320/IMG_5643.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NqoNAAob2a87qf9hK47VtjCBU7wi9-dOAZOHNV2UozNyQ_a49jyRTli7jZjhZNUWoZfupIozLKRgTiRPYrZrT5G7B6wLfU8A2iRghkWCkWvfHOBKNBhMqs6OehoCxKZ35FxG3CfqUTw/s1600/IMG_5651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NqoNAAob2a87qf9hK47VtjCBU7wi9-dOAZOHNV2UozNyQ_a49jyRTli7jZjhZNUWoZfupIozLKRgTiRPYrZrT5G7B6wLfU8A2iRghkWCkWvfHOBKNBhMqs6OehoCxKZ35FxG3CfqUTw/s320/IMG_5651.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I promise I scraped more of this into the pan! I didn't eat it aaaaaaaaall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SwCmYh7oz0OJoSKyjD_O_rLl7IAKa8kbhd2IoOpha3AnwFm1sGwSfwJupAse5Nj6igfSvVb0YTERdsNWwEyOzZsrUB7bfWFEBRA3SzjBfXZJNkrQJv5ZEShhAhbTT4Vq00BahPMckwc/s1600/IMG_5653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SwCmYh7oz0OJoSKyjD_O_rLl7IAKa8kbhd2IoOpha3AnwFm1sGwSfwJupAse5Nj6igfSvVb0YTERdsNWwEyOzZsrUB7bfWFEBRA3SzjBfXZJNkrQJv5ZEShhAhbTT4Vq00BahPMckwc/s320/IMG_5653.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've never made brownies in a round tin before; it makes and abundance of delectable pieces just asking to be snacked on!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-56713161537512574792013-12-13T20:05:00.001+01:002013-12-15T21:43:47.402+01:00Updateius Tancredi is my assistant cookius<div dir="ltr">
With the cookies basically gone not even 24 hours after I made them I thought I'd top up the forlorn looking box with something else. I'd been hoarding most of the ingredients and was only missing a few substitute ingredients and rice bubbles, that I didn't by from the big supermarket and then couldn't find at the small one. Fortunately however, just as I was heading out the the gym (and afterwards to the mini shop to get a few substitutes) Sara was off to a different big shop to get some things in preparation for Tancredi's party tonight. His birthday is December 30 which obviously proves difficult party-wise because people go away for the holidays. So while Sara was off stocking up on party food I had her pick up some rice bubbles for me. <br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I gave Sara and her friend Angelina a hand preping food and then during an hour long pre party activity lul (a thing I have never experienced) i set to making rice crispies. Once Tancredi saw a picture of what I was making he was more than happy to give the mix a stir while I measured things out. He then refused to relinquish the wooden spoon to me again so we continued on together. He did eventually relinquish the spoon to me, I assume only because he viewed adding the rice bubbles as more fun! <br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
When we were almost done and everything was looking delicious he called Sele over to check it out, much to my surprise she didn't say comment on its strangeness (as she has done with all things gluten/egg/dairy free). We fed her some of the unset mix and she thought it was delicious (i sharnt tell her it has evil rice milk in it). <br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
With two people cooking things went faster than I expected and I forgot to take photos. However I imagine most of this batch will be gobbled up by Tancredi's friends meaning there'll be another batch soon that i can take action shots of. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
With Tancredi's party in full swing (i do not recall ever having this much energy when I was 13!) and the slice in the freezer Sara is wondering if we'll survive and counting down the hours until everyone leaves... <br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Now it tuns out we forgot to mix the chocolate chips in so I sprinkles them on top and then pressed them in. This recipe is supposed to use peanut butter but a) I'm not a huge fan and b) it's rather difficult to find in Italy, so instead we used Nutella, meaning that the whole thing ended up sweeter, stickier and less structurally sounds than anticipated but it's still rather delicious. More work is required though before is the scrumptious slice from the <a href="http://ohsheglows.com/2011/01/28/no-bake-peanut-butter-chocolate-crispies-with-pb-fudge/">original recipe</a>.<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoTy36bbFQ82nu4iC45WiSRC6sfgemi-Fj-NMP0qKtdAWY7lLrGV5VU6momoTG6BfQ0Z3zpCtdyHdt0A9cgzMTRNUXZMJz1YCvUZu_kfNyouFQ6ynTHXFRZus0SwrYqWhyjdmVy86SLY/s1600/IMG_5607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoTy36bbFQ82nu4iC45WiSRC6sfgemi-Fj-NMP0qKtdAWY7lLrGV5VU6momoTG6BfQ0Z3zpCtdyHdt0A9cgzMTRNUXZMJz1YCvUZu_kfNyouFQ6ynTHXFRZus0SwrYqWhyjdmVy86SLY/s320/IMG_5607.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-56274982019728809732013-12-13T19:45:00.001+01:002013-12-15T21:56:24.989+01:00Updateius I made cookiesius<div class="mobile-photo">
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
One of my walks the other day was to our local supermarket, carrefour. Have have a carrefour express that is only 5mins walk from the house but it's only tiny. The bigger one is about a half hour walk away but is a cross between a super iga, and target. I rugged up and set off at about 5.30 (i'm the dark). I was after a bunch of different flours, and some other strange things for gluten free vegan cooking. 50 mins and three complete pass overs of the shop I had most of what I was looking for, with in reason since I had to carry it all with me home again. The thing I had the most trouble with was flax seeds, I'm hind site it was probably the easiest thing to find (i'm an organic food section) but I had almost given but hope by the time I stumbled upon it. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I didn't manage to find brown rice syrup or almond meal but the first can be replaced with honey and the second lead to my discovery of Sara's Bimby as a thermomix (also I found farina di mandorle at the carrefour express). I decided that if I couldn't find almond flour I'd just have to make some myself, Google searching for instructions on how to make it with Sara's Bimby I found a recipe but didn't understand it fully so chucked it through google translate. Much to my surprise it spat out 'thermomix' where ever 'Bimby' had been! A quick google image search confirmed it did just have a different name in Italy and I quickly shot off emails of excitement to my mum and sister. A thermomix is one of those great things you hear everyone raving about as being fantastic, but never really get to try out/see in action. With a price tag around 2000aud it's not surprising that I only know of who people who own one, and both are friends of my parents. What amazes me more is that Sara has one and doesn't use it all the time. From what I gather they are a completly magical machine that you just /have/ to use multiple times a day and never /ever/ make anything without it. Okay so that's a bit if am exaggeration but still, I've only seen a couple things made in it the whole 8 months I was here last time. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
So, the Bimby/thermomix and I are going to be great friends. It also explains why Sara doesn't have a a hand mixer, it can do basically everything. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
My first little foray into the land of the Bimby was using to make cookies last night. Since the recipe wasn't thermomix specific I only used it to cream butter and sugar, then decanted the mix to fold in the flour by hand. But still, Sara was making jokes about our new found friendship. I had initially planned to make the cookies while everyone was still out but I had a couple of things to get from carrefour express. I forgot to bring money when I went to the gym (halfway between home and the shops) and then i decided it was cutting it a bit close to siesta to had off. I generally end up walking around for ages looking at everything until I find what I'm after. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
So by the time I got into cooking mode Selene and her friend were I want the kitchen, Tancre got home from school and started harnessing them and Sara and Corrado where piping in and out with a couple of friends. I'm pretty sure 6 people in my kitchen quarrelling in a foreign language while I try to cook a new recipe on unknown equipment without measuring spoons/cups is my own personal type of he'll. But, i survived. Selene was sceptical the whole time, convinced that the biscuits would be weird, even when she tried the dough that tasted like basically any other type of cookie dough ever.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
In the end I probably over cooked them slightly because the flour I was using don't brown and I was dubious of the recipe that said to hoik them after 10mins. I was also unsure of the consistency of the mix so added more flour despite it saying it's normal quite runny. In the end they came out a bit thicker and a bit harder than I was expecting but everyone who's tried them reckons they're delicious and can't tell how on earth they're vegan and gluten free. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
They haven't lasted long either, there are only two little ones left 24 hours later... </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCLjg-3byZSBXWgh0Wk_jFQmMG2cA2yIFK8Fzgt1PSv6Vci8rSC1t7MkCvnYQjIgJwX_OdbPYSOFX3NwER_zZhLb0GABMzqqGKbzCqzugdXQMs0NdtBMfbOWCoswQ677PgIUaD8JNmC0/s1600/IMG_5582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCLjg-3byZSBXWgh0Wk_jFQmMG2cA2yIFK8Fzgt1PSv6Vci8rSC1t7MkCvnYQjIgJwX_OdbPYSOFX3NwER_zZhLb0GABMzqqGKbzCqzugdXQMs0NdtBMfbOWCoswQ677PgIUaD8JNmC0/s320/IMG_5582.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4ht2gQiI9_PQnbinjEPbf5IlAAH7q4NcehgLWTfRUAVuz6tdTTemTMivx0cF5mK1hJqntK0y20DH86gtXls6diu692B4yWCqNKTy_YRWSN1iUsvRRkd8NsxO56XvyeRFrCd9_9NhIfg/s1600/IMG_5592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4ht2gQiI9_PQnbinjEPbf5IlAAH7q4NcehgLWTfRUAVuz6tdTTemTMivx0cF5mK1hJqntK0y20DH86gtXls6diu692B4yWCqNKTy_YRWSN1iUsvRRkd8NsxO56XvyeRFrCd9_9NhIfg/s320/IMG_5592.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_4GvmDUDdZqF2NcCnLRJoAQ8wpDQr1xE0ou47BOfHbnJPpYKaSAoikU8pcdO0pzyk9YkbMbdC4CZr_IjlGk3c3vCNOmbbANpqupEBbXCSWPJ2-tv_vgFjT8NBc3SFVJX_gXlndv4jGc/s1600/IMG_5598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_4GvmDUDdZqF2NcCnLRJoAQ8wpDQr1xE0ou47BOfHbnJPpYKaSAoikU8pcdO0pzyk9YkbMbdC4CZr_IjlGk3c3vCNOmbbANpqupEBbXCSWPJ2-tv_vgFjT8NBc3SFVJX_gXlndv4jGc/s320/IMG_5598.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdZ3CPRer9t3ml7c0JDvpON-l-CaHCf5JlGZ62xD2FpB74suqzTHBpFSUB790bFsh6e7ulwYB3ZEyO72Yp-TZE4B7Wpqe8PHQ8m_UPXm9vsBT18ztY5Mw_ghkJtH1_hp-0fh1JYzh3tQ/s1600/IMG_5606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCdZ3CPRer9t3ml7c0JDvpON-l-CaHCf5JlGZ62xD2FpB74suqzTHBpFSUB790bFsh6e7ulwYB3ZEyO72Yp-TZE4B7Wpqe8PHQ8m_UPXm9vsBT18ztY5Mw_ghkJtH1_hp-0fh1JYzh3tQ/s320/IMG_5606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-52590973496780524042013-12-12T11:40:00.001+01:002013-12-12T11:40:06.181+01:00Updateius I'm went to the gymius<p dir="ltr">In Australia I've been trying to get the the gym two or three times a week to do strength training exercises (since we all know that I don't weight enough). And despite that fa t Mt visits got rather infrequent as the semester wore on i didnt wasn't to go 6 ½ weeks eating pasta and sitting on the couch, since last time I put in 10kgs of fat doing that. So early last week I ad Selene accompany me to her old gym (she's currently back doing gymnastics so has changed gyms) and help me sign up. It's pretty expensive (65€ for a month) but hopefully that can be some incentive to go everyday. Before they let you start you need a medical certificate saying you're not going to drop dead and try to sue the (another 20€) so Tuesday last week saw me back at the gym on my own for the medical assessment.</p> <p dir="ltr">When we were signing up Selene had explained that I was from Australia and when I went back for the medical assessment some of the same people where there and obviously have the doc the heads up. I was a bit worried about being able to communicate sufficiently without someone else there to help (my real is very, very slow, or non existent) but he was super good, spoke slowly in simple sentence and would try a different way if i didnt understand things the first time. He was doing pretty simple things, blood pressure, heart rate breath and heart sounds, so that helped quite a bit. When I had to lay down for the heart sounds he didn't try a complicated thing first, just started straight off saying with my stomach up. It's pretty rare to have someone so good as explaining things so I can understand them, makes me think maybe he has travelled abroad.</p> <p dir="ltr">The next day I went back for my first session at the gym. I'd had a pretty crappy day and would have much preferred to stay at home curled up on the couch with Jace but decided if i managed to drag myself to the gym the day wouldn't be a total write of. Walking into the place was like walk g into a sauna, sweaty people and heating are not the best combination. The lady on the desk was the same as the day before and she took my card and showed me to the change rooms.</p> <p dir="ltr">The gym was pretty much packed and I don't really enjoy crowds of people at the best of times so I jumped on a treadmill to give me something to do while I sussed everything out. Actually getting the treadmill to start was a bit of a challenge but one of the gym dudes came over and gave me a hand, he seemed to know to speak slowly and simply as well. He also came up to me later and corrected my It's form on a piece of equipment. It's really nice that they take the time to make sure I'm doing alright, I can just imagine in their staff meeting explain that the skinny girl with bright red hair is Australian.</p> <p dir="ltr">After a warm up on the treadmill I braved the scary machines to atleast put in a little bit of effort. In Perth I go to Jetts which is a chain of gyms so no matter which one I go to or in which state the equipment is basically the same. This is super useful for the times when I have and hour and a half to kill in Melbourne before my flight home but not so useful well I suddenly end up somewhere with different equipment. My time on the ground treadmill allowed me to workout what exercise people where doing on each machine but working out the weights was another challenge in it's self. Basically I start on the lowest or second lowest and give it a shot, change the weights until I think it's close. I did a pretty light session that first time just to get in the swing of things and prove to myself that it wasn't so scary. I did however decide I was not going to go back again in the evening unless it was unavoidable, too many sweaty dudes and not enough free equipment.</p> <p dir="ltr">This Tuesday I got up and for myself to the gym around 10 (later than I was aiming for) thinking most people would still be at work. This was true, however the local senior citz had obviously worked this out too. All the treadmills were full so I went in only lightly warmed up from the few minute walk over. I'm hind sight this was a poor decision, I woke up yesterday incredibly stiff. Some of it I had expected, not having been to the gym for a couple of weeks, but I didn't think I'd be wincing every time I moved. I brought one of mum's spiky balls with me so spent a while working out muscles as much as I could. I still decided to skip the gym though, instead opting for a couple of long walks to stretch out. </p> <p dir="ltr">These walks where also duel purposed; finding strange flour and vegan baking staples. I will prove that gluten, egg and dairy free biscuits can be delicious. I feel that the discovery that Sara's Bimby is actually a Thermomix will assist me greatly in this endeavour. </p> <p dir="ltr">Today I am back at the gym again, still a little sore but for the most part it's the good sore. I managed to time it perfectly this time so that I arrived just as the older ladies were stripping for the showers, but you know; win some, lose some. The nice gym guy said hi when he spotted me and I managed to watch a bit of a yoga/stretching class that i might eventually build up the courage to join. Today I am off to find the last few ingredients to cook with (and maybe even a trip to Eataly, a very awesome very dangerous slow food shop) and hopefully soon there will be a post of delicious Breanna compatible creations. </p> <p dir="ltr">-Breanna</p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-12827944418246227852013-12-01T01:43:00.001+01:002013-12-01T01:43:23.796+01:00Updateius I'm not sure if I still have toes<p dir="ltr">Today is the 50tth wedding anniversary of Nonna Irma and Nonno Aldo so we had a party. Friday evening Sara, Selene, Sele's friend Alice (Ali-che, not Alis) and I went shopping for supplies, for almost three hours... While we were there we bought 13 bottles of wine, a bunch of different cheeses (boo, not cheese for meee) gluten free biscuits, soydrink (soy milk by with sugar, unfortunately all I've found so far) and a whole lot of other things. </p> <p dir="ltr">Cooking started late morning Saturday, commencing with Selene getting the quarters through making tiramisù the whole realising she'd forgotten the mascarpone. While she mixed that in to the remaining mix I started pulling off the top layer of biscuits and scraping into the bowl most of the mix we'd already put down. Both Sara and Sele were apparently quite surprised at my going this. When I pointed out that otherwise it would be wrong, they said they knew that but wouldn't have been bothered fixing it. I like to think I ensured it was delicious, even if I couldn't try it. </p> <p dir="ltr">I helped as much as I could with the cooking whilst also translating for Tancredi what he had to do in one of the mmorpgs (massive multiplayer online roll playing game) I'd brought with me. One of Sara's friends was over helping us and she bought me from Sara for €5 to help make fruit salad. </p> <p dir="ltr">Corrado arrived from Venice for the weekend and explained he was worried he'd break me if he hugged me. My weight I generally the first topic of conversation when I see someone I knew last time. In the 10 months I was here I gained 9.5kg and that being around 1/5 my weight it is kind of obvious now I've lost it again. I generally follow that conversation up with the fact I'm allergic to eggs and dairy and don't eat much gluten. The fact that i 'can't eat anything' seems to placate them about my weight. </p> <p dir="ltr">In preparation for the party I had an afternoon nap. Tancredi reminds me daily that I have forgotten most of my italian (he's making me a homework schedule to cover 3 years of primary school in the 6weeks I'm here) and I'm finding that by mid afternoon I'm mentally exhausted. The two situations I have the most trouble with in understating this is when there's lots of people and when it's noisy, both of which I knew would be the case, so I napped for a bit. </p> <p dir="ltr">For a couple of hours during the day it snowed (!). It was very light and mostly really small flakes but at one point they were huge so I rugged up and went and stood in them for a few minutes. Tancre and Sele thought it was weird but I guess they see it all the time. In the first 15 minutes it was snowing I told Tancre approximately 10 times that it was. </p> <p dir="ltr">The party went pretty well, although I had a bunch of people tell me I lost too much weight and I had a super hard time understand people. Eventually I gave up and sat in the 'kids corner' with Tancredi and some of his friends, which actually turned our be a good thing because that was where the music was and thus I got to watch people dance stupidly. The funniest thing was when 'I will survive' started playing, Manu (Tancredi's friend) turned around and put his hand behind Tancre's neck in a tango-esk way. We all burst out laughing </p> <p dir="ltr">Selene and Tancredi's cousin (who I've never met) Greta was in Turin just the one night for the party and so she Sele and Alice convinced me to go out with them. On the promise that since it was cold and we were all tired it wouldn't be for long. And hence why i'm not sure if i still have toes... I was 0deg C while we were out, sitting outside a bar for 30+mins... <br> I think I need new shoes. </p> <p dir="ltr">-Breanna </p> FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-34888282501354743952013-11-27T20:01:00.001+01:002013-11-27T21:09:46.057+01:00Updateius I'm here againius<div dir="ltr">
Two years almost to the day since I left Italy I was back at Perth international airport and on my way back again. To provide a bit of back story I had initially planned to return for Christmas 2012 but that seemed a bit unlikely with the money I was making so I put it off for another year.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
It got to August this year and I found myself looking at flights over for Christmas. Imagine my surprise when after playing around with dates for a while I found flights under $1800 that also took less than 24 hours, quite a feat at the best of times, let alone 3 months before you intend to fly!<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
So after a stressful week of 4 exams in 4 days I had three days to hurriedly find a few remaining Christmas presents and get all packed. Heading off to the airport 20mins later than planned (and with still drying hair to boot) check in went smoothly and I was already to go.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Flying Singapore Airlines and with a 3 hour stop over in Changi I made it to Italy at 5.36am, the first flight to land after the end of the airports curfew. Although it did mean I got my baggage nice and quickly it also meant I ended up in a mostly un opened airport and with a 2.5h wait for the first bust to Turin. I worked out where to buy a ticket from (after fighting the website for two days and getting rejected on three cards) and planned out my whole conversation, only to find out that the person whom I had to get the ticket from wasn't in yet.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
When arriving at the airport we were informed it was 2deg C outside and the elderly Asian couple next to me were concerned about my lack of jumper. Even once I'd excited to the airport proper I still didn't see the need for the warm coats everyone seemed to be wearing. But as i settled into my wait and as the airport became more busy I found myself digging into my bag for the coat mum and I had left at the top. I guess pulling around a 22kg bag with ~6kg hand luggage on top was enough cardio to keep me warm for that first bit.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
After an accidental snooze (and being woke up by a kid playing candy crush on full volume) on the bus Jace and I arrived in Turin where we were met by Selene (who had skipped uni) and her boyfriend who drive me home, marking the end of my 28 hours of travel. After some morning tea and unpacking my bag (the work of but a few minutes given half of it was full of Christmas gifts) we planned to head over to Tancredi's school to see him.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
He spotted us from inside the gates and came out beaming. I only just got a 'ciao Tancre' in before getting hugged. He's now taller than me, but not yet by much! As per tradition there were a few more 'ciao Bre's in the car ad we dropped him off at his grandma's for the afternoon.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
When Sara came home from work in time for lunch two of the first three conversations we had were about how I'd lost weight (the other being what I was doing at uni). The rest of the afternoon has been filled with my trying to stay warm and awake. Soon we're off to pick up Tancre and buy me a sim. Somewhere in there I think we're going to visit Nonna Irma too.</div>
FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-57421058820271576762011-08-30T16:30:00.010+02:002011-08-30T17:08:25.594+02:00Postius I might actually be Deadius (aka Postius about Romius 2)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Reasons I might actually be deadius; I haven't blogged in so long it's a reasonable conclusion or if I don't blog soon my parents might actually kill me.</div><br />
Our second day in Rome we headed to the Vatican and Basilica di San<br />
Pietro. Now Rome has an extensive train/metro system, it's made up of<br />
two metro lines in a vaguely cross shape and then seven train lines,<br />
the whole thing on a map looks kinda like this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgzRYSDJSTs5MFILb6qh4UX_2UM0flP5rolavi2fh4njz8Lki3TB9S2Cmnv8-EuQxsHm6f4CBbn8Cg_MH_VQDs7uDN-tAWrs3AaHRn4vSoxnHB4x7-SAAbsbsv8nf5FC69qm4L4OJ68s/s1600/rome+metro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgzRYSDJSTs5MFILb6qh4UX_2UM0flP5rolavi2fh4njz8Lki3TB9S2Cmnv8-EuQxsHm6f4CBbn8Cg_MH_VQDs7uDN-tAWrs3AaHRn4vSoxnHB4x7-SAAbsbsv8nf5FC69qm4L4OJ68s/s320/rome+metro.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><br />
Vatican City is sort of below, between orange metro stops Cipro and<br />
Ottaviano-S.Pietro. I have no idea where we got off but we did lots of<br />
walking to get there. And it was very hot. And we were wearing<br />
Pope-worthy covering clothes (or for those of us who weren't; carrying shawls). When we finally arrived (by way of<br />
someone other than Manny navigating) we then had the debate of who<br />
wanted to go where; a few of the girls had already been to the<br />
Basilica or the Vatican Museum so all of us going to one was going to<br />
be boring for someone. In the end most of us ended up deciding to go<br />
to the Basilica leaving Manny and a few others to go to the museum or<br />
shop until we were finished. Going to visit Basilica di San Pietro on<br />
a Sunday; not advisable. Entry is however free on Sundays, this could<br />
possibly be why the crowd was off the hook, but that could also have<br />
been because we were in Pope-ville, on a Sunday. This is what Piazza<br />
San Pietro looks like:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtZMlQdjvZytiZgAMTVZtxDOuOKhy42oAe-m8LZRK7j6mkyXZNSUxbC3CjRPaKUIQ0vcUsjBrX8bBxG1l8v4PVLCGHdFlb2SD-PlzrZCy8MlYygngYsHa0wDnWAvEeTAzbITLLlBHIx4/s1600/piazza+s.p..png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtZMlQdjvZytiZgAMTVZtxDOuOKhy42oAe-m8LZRK7j6mkyXZNSUxbC3CjRPaKUIQ0vcUsjBrX8bBxG1l8v4PVLCGHdFlb2SD-PlzrZCy8MlYygngYsHa0wDnWAvEeTAzbITLLlBHIx4/s320/piazza+s.p..png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this lovely image is from GoogleMaps</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Now imagine the whole thing as a watch face so I can explain how busy<br />
it was. Entry is at about 11 o'clock, you can see the little rat-race<br />
thing there, and 6-8 was under construction or getting painted or<br />
something so it was all blocked off. The line started at the rat-race,<br />
went clockwise until it reached 6 o'clock and them doubled back to<br />
about 5 o'clock, that's where we got in it. It's safe to say we got to<br />
know each other quite well while we were in at line, in the middle of<br />
the day, with little shade.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YstmvwnypgNajQ3B29iTIo6t1i8uehbf_eOkNeCrUMpEADJ-RHgSJREaw9a5EUwCSnXswMwr6MhVLLNRLRN0RTf_fumhEloG8hn0-wouP3LKlbrKwURSBFFfIsXhsFRW22yWt8yN6fU/s1600/IMGP1240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2YstmvwnypgNajQ3B29iTIo6t1i8uehbf_eOkNeCrUMpEADJ-RHgSJREaw9a5EUwCSnXswMwr6MhVLLNRLRN0RTf_fumhEloG8hn0-wouP3LKlbrKwURSBFFfIsXhsFRW22yWt8yN6fU/s320/IMGP1240.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjaBIOKHMp2_shQg_zHO_WSJWO29pq3SCgJqiaeL55VgyBDFCe5jpcxSgiEnibEagZ4LQbmBbWUKZIZsyhWVUpycnG-UwMdNjS7z851JTTZGwRkC6oGKyV8FWb2DjnpAi4N1YnyAyqvs/s1600/IMGP1241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjaBIOKHMp2_shQg_zHO_WSJWO29pq3SCgJqiaeL55VgyBDFCe5jpcxSgiEnibEagZ4LQbmBbWUKZIZsyhWVUpycnG-UwMdNjS7z851JTTZGwRkC6oGKyV8FWb2DjnpAi4N1YnyAyqvs/s320/IMGP1241.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqC04GZTl99ad4OyaJ9HgItITBPnpIbefmER2fXSo5hROJaPADzaCfAw0qREBuW9l4dpUslNXU3AVIV6AY8LmGTRiO6ZI_j_eOhzChbxJftTOJLckv4jVqrFQ_x1b8-qD9uFm38WVrys/s1600/IMGP1247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqC04GZTl99ad4OyaJ9HgItITBPnpIbefmER2fXSo5hROJaPADzaCfAw0qREBuW9l4dpUslNXU3AVIV6AY8LmGTRiO6ZI_j_eOhzChbxJftTOJLckv4jVqrFQ_x1b8-qD9uFm38WVrys/s320/IMGP1247.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Malin, Mollie & Chloe</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzwxr4V0fj3PkvV0jE4vQ2ohZzUb1XelIM7bLKQlKIsHlwm6upvCAIw8ydZnKr6FdAlVpaSTUgS4FwnBBmkUcxE6lmdTHVwBDwP4352zCpeiSiJkaSqKAzLmdjjz8219nItaFmJSrVCE/s1600/IMGP1253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzwxr4V0fj3PkvV0jE4vQ2ohZzUb1XelIM7bLKQlKIsHlwm6upvCAIw8ydZnKr6FdAlVpaSTUgS4FwnBBmkUcxE6lmdTHVwBDwP4352zCpeiSiJkaSqKAzLmdjjz8219nItaFmJSrVCE/s320/IMGP1253.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mollie</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOo369tfSuORgBY8eU1Q5QmAQobi0JTab8wSqe6jmdEQgDUAxaPRA8teDjfXgJm2en_l88AWIgYGGAqqhv94NG35ANwWbkWnhKqAdq4mHC1M4il8_zjm8fucC0pSjtUy1drkSwMePY14/s1600/IMGP1259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOo369tfSuORgBY8eU1Q5QmAQobi0JTab8wSqe6jmdEQgDUAxaPRA8teDjfXgJm2en_l88AWIgYGGAqqhv94NG35ANwWbkWnhKqAdq4mHC1M4il8_zjm8fucC0pSjtUy1drkSwMePY14/s320/IMGP1259.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mollie, Maria, Elina</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOQvItqjvkfL_xSxuIoeYA7jRRzMD4-KX2IhNInFATS9oVssaa4n85QtguJAbYIXBhnERAroyoh6XukkDRf_TjvoCN4wL8R8smGzCupRNnLydQaZTP9RH8xz5Y1fiNYVI50kMJfMkKqc/s1600/IMGP1266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOQvItqjvkfL_xSxuIoeYA7jRRzMD4-KX2IhNInFATS9oVssaa4n85QtguJAbYIXBhnERAroyoh6XukkDRf_TjvoCN4wL8R8smGzCupRNnLydQaZTP9RH8xz5Y1fiNYVI50kMJfMkKqc/s320/IMGP1266.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ellie, Malin, Tash, Elina, Mollie, Chloe</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
By the time the we'd got to 6 o'clock and then all the way back to 4<br />
o'clock we'd been in the line for 40/45 minutes. At this point the<br />
Pope appeared. Well in theory it was the Pope, a window opened in the<br />
top of a building and a little red carpet was draped out it and then<br />
an old man appeared and started talking. It was actually rather<br />
impressive he talked in Italian, French, German and English but I'm<br />
not sure what else. It could have been a puppet or a stunt double, but<br />
it was probably the Pope. A fantastic thing happened while the Pope<br />
was talking (which he did for quite a while). A whole bunch of people<br />
in the line decided that they'd be better able to hear him if they<br />
stood in the middle of the Piazza, this in fact is probably not true<br />
as there where speakers all the way around but anyway, and just<br />
abandoned waiting. This means that when it hit an hour of us being in<br />
line we were well around and just a little shy of reaching 12.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpp4wjw8V5N_A8ciWQMBnwAfyV39hhOC9hs10ClfbpZtW5vuZqxUNrTF3QyU88HCP5ekC5P7JS8yJ6k4wF1CThsy-nZ-VTEECvIi79MEkLjVqrdAx9GhE0yHkL2Hv3-1uKT4lzrf4LJF0/s1600/IMGP1255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpp4wjw8V5N_A8ciWQMBnwAfyV39hhOC9hs10ClfbpZtW5vuZqxUNrTF3QyU88HCP5ekC5P7JS8yJ6k4wF1CThsy-nZ-VTEECvIi79MEkLjVqrdAx9GhE0yHkL2Hv3-1uKT4lzrf4LJF0/s320/IMGP1255.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 18px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pope<br />
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
When you get to the edge of the rat-race it's a little deceiving; you<br />
think you're almost through, when in actual fact it just fills up with<br />
people and smooshes you together like sardines. There is actually one<br />
good thing about this, it means that you can duck into the shade of<br />
other people's umbrellas while you wait. Once you've gone through<br />
airport style security it thins out quite a bit and you're free to<br />
wander around the the Basilica. It's really rather huge, but<br />
personally I didn't think it was that impressive (other than the<br />
size).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8vUh1ZipgifBSo0Wvd9SzmOrUCF0yr_ikibW3gt7cRUxuxWNdedqHJk4XC_vaNxLw78H-Xo_R2EjepCwxvVo60voWY6pds8sZnwA-EifmiA9y8kexRUkIwUBKSqiPs5YkivjAGDpOMk/s1600/IMGP1272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8vUh1ZipgifBSo0Wvd9SzmOrUCF0yr_ikibW3gt7cRUxuxWNdedqHJk4XC_vaNxLw78H-Xo_R2EjepCwxvVo60voWY6pds8sZnwA-EifmiA9y8kexRUkIwUBKSqiPs5YkivjAGDpOMk/s320/IMGP1272.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 18px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Obligatory 'I'm in the Basilica' photo<br />
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After we'd had a good look around it was getting close to the<br />
time we were supposed to meet up with the others so we had a decision<br />
to make; postpone meet up and wait in another (seemingly unmoving<br />
line) to go to the top of the Basilica or trudge off to find water,<br />
the others and food. There was only me and one other girl who really<br />
wanted to go to the top, and the rest refused to stand in line any<br />
more, wanting to sit down and eat rather than wait an extra hour and<br />
be able to say they looked down on Rome from the top of the Pope's<br />
Basilica. So we headed out. Into a practically empty piazza. Moral of<br />
the story; if you want to visit the Basilica, go at 1pm (and don't<br />
chicken out of going to the top just because you're tired).<br />
After we'd refuelled and had another lengthy discussion about where we<br />
would go next we headed off to find Trevi Fountain (deciding not to go<br />
to the Vatican Museum because we didn't have time to look at it all<br />
before it closed). Somehow we though it was a good idea to walk there,<br />
but it really wasn't. It's only 2.5km and straight most of the way but<br />
somehow we managed to get very lost and despite the fact Manny kept<br />
asking for directions (from shop owners) we ended up having to back<br />
track quite a bit. We eventually fount it, did the obligatory money<br />
throwing and picture taking before getting gelato and heading off back<br />
to to hotel nap, and get ready to go back into central Rome for<br />
dinner.<br />
<br />
I've now also added the photos to <a href="http://freckiepi.blogspot.com/2011/06/postius-about-romeius-1.html">'Postius about Romius 1'</a>FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3363967844379208876.post-83608850104164446092011-07-27T03:09:00.002+02:002011-07-27T03:19:32.842+02:00Postius i went on a cruiseiusI've spent the past week on a Boat Cruise around the Greek Island area, contrary to the information on the company's website the freewifi cost 10euro/hour and thus what i though would be a productive blogging time turned out to be useless =C<br />
<br />
there will be a blog coming in the next few days with more stuff about Rome, but in the mean time this is a Vlog (a video log = vlog, like a web log = blog) about the cruise i've just been on. The Critter Chronicles is a collaborative youtube project that I am doing with my best friend and her younger siblings based on what Hank and John Green have been doing for the past 4 years with Brotherhood 2.0 and now the Vlogbrothers. I won't go into more detail here but if you are interested in learning more about it our blog to go with the youtube channel can be found <a href="http://the-critter-chronicles.blogspot.com/">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bWMsjRejjzE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>FreckiePihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12686634260409449736noreply@blogger.com0