"Please Don't Pass That Gas" (pipeline through Jersey City): Izzy attends a protest

"Please don't pass that gas (pipeline)"

The Spectra financed natural gas pipeline which is slated to run underneath downtown Jersey City, is a source of great concern and outrage for the city's residents.  Today was our chance to speak out against its construction, which would surely do more harm than good, bringing toxins and danger to a densely populated area.  The public hearing was scheduled for this evening and since it wasn't too late I decided it would be a good introduction for Izzy, into the world of protests.  Although this wasn't the first protest he has attended it will undoubtedly be the first he will remember. 

Izzy and his pal Y., waved their signs dutifully and then sat patiently while many of our city's leading politicians spoke out against the pipeline's construction through our city.  Many of the speeches were engaging and well-done.  But of course the most memorable speaker, from the kids' viewpoint, was the woman who incorporated the phrase "Please don't pass that gas (pipeline)" throughout her speech.

The majority of the attendees were anti-pipeline protesters but there was a small but vocal bunch of pro-pipeline union workers sprinkled amongst the audience.   The kids managed to sit through over an hour of the hearing but they began to get sleepy so we had to leave before it ended.

When the final decision regarding the pipeline is made in 2012, let us hope that our voices were heard.  May our children learn the importance of speaking up for what they believe in.

Click here for the latest news on the event...

Hurricane Preparedness, Shopping for Irene and An Agonizing Decision

Most of our summer has been spent elsewhere, Europe or the shore.  As a consequence, our pantry and cupboards are shockingly bare.  Of late, I have been making daily shopping trips and haven't replenished any dry food goods and other staples.   With all of the panic and hoopla surrounding the impending arrival of Hurricane Irene, I decided to make an emergency trip to Shoprite, a place I have managed to avoid for the better part of the past year.

I went there with the intent of picking up water, batteries, cleaning supplies and some canned goods.  I assumed others there would be doing the same.  What I found however, were shelves empty of gallon water jugs and shoppers piling their carts with all manner of junk food.  An acquaintance, whose cart contained the spray cheese of my youth (oh so delectable on a Ritz cracker during those summer camp days of yore), and all sorts of other goods out of my realm, tried to persuade me to throw out my foodie/organic convictions and just stock up.  After all, this was about survival.  I explained that I didn't just want to buy food that I wouldn't eventually use.  Her rationale (and a good one at that), was that if we didn't end up using the food, we could just donate it.   Yet I looked around and saw the carts stuffed with all manner of processed foods and couldn't exactly follow suit.  In my own fashion, I did shop with abandon, as I purchased some things that would not ordinarily find their way into my cart.

With Izzy at my side, we carted home the following: 13 bottles of fizzy water, a lone bottle of Fiji water,  hearts of palm, water chestnuts, olives, chickpeas, cannellini beans, olive oil, canned pink salmon, coconut water, organic granola, blueberry pomegranate juice, organic rice milk, coconut milk and whatever else you seen in the picture.  I marveled at the spread and how it differed from what I saw in the carts of my neighbors.  I knew that come what may, would we still manage to eat healthfully.

Not only did we shop for groceries, we also managed to snag the last light stick at Sears, get a bag of ice from the bodega and stop at the bank.  Yet my efforts were for naught.  I have been tracking the storm and reading the dire predictions, wondering if we needed to evacuate or not.   This morning, A. insisted that Izzy and I leave Jersey City.  

After much agonizing, I have left my stocked pantry and made the decision to leave my kitties and house behind.    A. has remained home, guarding the house and the kitties.  We chose to go stay with my brother since Flemington is merely a tropical storm zone instead of a category 1 hurricane site.   Though the rain is falling steadily around us, inside my brother's kitchen feels like a pretty safe place to be.

May everyone left on 8th Street and elsewhere stay safe and dry.  My thoughts are with all of you.

p.s. Thank J. for sharing your bedroom with us!

Paris - Eating In

For me a trip to Paris usually means a scramble to eat as many fabulous meals as I can.  This time was slightly different, given my many and various food limitations, which is one reason I chose to stay in an apartment, allowing me the ability to prepare meals at home -which we did for all breakfasts, most lunches and some dinners.  Going to the French market is always fun for me and Izzy got a kick out of helping me select the ingredients for our meals..from gorgeously sweet grape tomatoes to sparkling red currants.

Arugula Salad with Tomatoes and Chickpeas/Green Beans Vinagrette

As you can see, I didn't really do any heavy duty cooking but more of an assemblage - salads, pate, bread and fruit - and one pasta dinner.

Red Currants Snack

Arugula, Cherry Tomatoes,Cucumbers and Tinned Fish

Steamed Artichoke, Rabbit Pate, Duck Rillettes, Beet Salad

Our new Italian friends wondered where we would eat better, in Italy or in France.  They were certain the food is better in Italy.  What do you suppose they will say now?

From Praiano to Paris - weather or not...

A rare moment on a carousel in the Marais (note the winter hat)

After our eleven day Italian idyll, we left the brilliant warm sunshine and spectacular scenery of Praiano for my heretofore favorite city, Paris.  I toyed with the idea of remaining in Praiano and canceling the trip to Paris but it was impossible.  Our apartment was already paid for and we couldn't change our flights. Besides, we had to go to Paris to get our train to London.  So to Paris we went and there we were met with an autumnal chill and days of rain. Izzy wondered aloud as to why it had been "summer in Italy and it was now winter in Paris". I wondered the same.

I didn't expect much from Paris, simply some days of meandering, a few good meals, a bit of  frolicking in Place des Vosges,  Jardins du Luxembourg and Les Tuileries and perhaps a visit to a small museum or two.  I also wanted to shop, for Izzy, myself and my friends.  Hardly got to do any of those things as the weather foiled most of our plans, except for eating and shopping, of which we did far too much.

Whenever we stepped outside, the sky would darken and the drops would begin falling.   I had no choice but to duck into the nearest shop.  We spent an inordinate amount of time in bookstores, clothing shops and whatever else crossed our paths.  Izzy began to amass a collection of Tintin books, which entertained him during my forays into clothing shops and shoe stores.

Tintin au restaurant

And so we spent our days in Paris, scurrying in and out of shops, escaping the rain, enjoying occasional bouts of sunshine and a few other activities...

A Room With A View (and then some) - Our apartment in Paris

Whenever I visit Paris, I try to stay either in, or near the Marais ( 4th arrondisement), where I lived many years ago.   It was, and still is, my very favorite place to be.  This time I selected a little apartment on the Rue des Tournelles, just a few doors down from where I lived way back then.  Among other essential features like free Wifi, the apartment offered a classic Parisian street side view.  And as Izzy later discovered, a bit more...

We were playing scrabble in the living room the other evening, when out of the blue,  Izzy looked up at me, with quite a grin on his face and asked, "Why is the lady across the street cleaning her apartment completely naked?"

Why indeed!  It wasn't even particularly hot out (in fact, au contraire) yet there she was, with her backside to us, washing her dishes.  Together we giggled over this and Izzy suggested I photograph her for the blog (not a good idea, I explained).  He continued to glance over at her and we watched as she turned toward us to sweep the floor. Eventually she realized she was being watched and disappeared into another room, only to return in her pajamas.  

Of course I was then left to explain why she might have been cleaning in the nude.  I could have chalked it up to a, "Only in Paris" occurrence.  However I had to confess that on sweltering days in New York City, long before he was born, when I lived on the 9th floor and the shades were drawn, I had been known to do some cleaning, similarly clad.  And so I told him that it was likely she was most comfortable that way and probably didn't realize that all eyes were upon her.

He hoped to catch another glimpse tonight but clearly, she was on to him and didn't make an appearance.

Leaving Praiano - was it meant to be?

Ancient tower - Praiano

Neither one of us wished to leave Praiano but sadly it was too late to change our plans.  We were resigned to leave as planned, far too early on Sunday morning - by taxi at 6 a.m. to catch a 9:20 flight from Naples.

Getting up at 5 wasn't as bad as I thought and Izzy awakened easily.   It was getting the hotel staff up to help assist with dragging our luggage up the stairs that proved challenging.  In fact, when I told them of our early departure, they seemed quite surprised that anyone would consider leaving so early. They made our early departure seem unheard of and were unsure as to how I would manage.  One suggestion was that they carry my baggage up the steps in the late evening, leaving it near a locked gate (no thanks).  I was baffled as to their response and as I was recounting this tale to some other hotel guests, a kind fellow from Australia offered to wake up and carry our bags for me.  He said he was going kayaking and needed a wake-up call anyway.  Ah the kindness of strangers.  With that settled, Izzy and I went off to our room.  On our way, N., one of the hotel family, stopped me to let me know that HE would be getting up to help with our bags.  I was skeptical but he insisted...so I canceled with the Australian and we went off to bed.

The morning of our departure, Izzy and I put all of our bags outside of our room, walked up to the reception area (locked) and peeked around for someone to help us.  Nobody was there but I figured N. would arrive shortly.  Meanwhile we walked up all of steps in search of the car service - not there either. We walked back down and still nobody had arrived to help.  I sent Izzy up and down a couple of more times in search of the car service  and still nothing.  At that point I began to fear we would miss our plane.  I also began to see the error in taking an early flight from Italy.  I had no signal on my phone so I couldn't contact the car service and there was no sign of N. to help with our luggage.  Little by little, Izzy and I inched our luggage up a few stairs at a time, until we got it to the reception area (not even halfway, mind you).  Our car was scheduled for 6 a.m. and it was 6:15.  All remained quiet as Izzy and I pricked our ears at the sound of each passing car.  Finally we heard a door slam.  We ran up the steps to meet Giovanni, our driver.  He apologized for his tardiness and came down to carry our luggage (phew).  We piled into the car and we were off.

Turns out my worries of lateness were unfounded.  The car service had booked us at 6 but it didn't take us very long to get to the airport, even with a stop along the way for Izzy.  It seems the early wake-up and winding roads = car-sickness for poor Izzy.  Our driver was most sympathetic and helpful with the clean-up, which more than compensated for his tardiness.  Not only that but he is an excellent driver, taking extra care along the narrow coastal roads.

In the end, we arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare and boarded our flight - destination Parigi-  on time.  As we settled into our seats, I finally began to relax and the fact that we were really leaving this magical locale began to sink in.  As the plane took flight I stared out at the shining blue sea and wished we had remained as we were earlier, stuck in Praiano, baggage and all.

Arrivederci Italia.

p.s. When we arrived in Paris, I received a very apologetic email from N., from our hotel in  Praiano who had set his alarm to help us with the baggage but never heard it sound - apologies accepted; we love you anyway!

When Life Gives You Lemons - Loll: Of our days in Praiano, Italy - Lemon Groves and Locanda Costa Diva

Night falls on the lemon grove

We arrived in Praiano a week ago and here we have stayed, nestled amongst lemon groves in our most adorable hotel,  La Locanda Costa Diva.  It is in fact, a restored farmhouse and the rooms seem to be built around the lemon, olive and other fruit trees which grace this cliffside retreat; the entire property boasting spectacular views of the sea and other local scenery.

Praiano is a small, quiet village along the Amalfi Coast - an easy distance (along narrow, harrowing roads) from its more boisterous neighbors, Positano and Amalfi.  At first I wasn’t sure how Izzy and I would fare here, as there is little more to do than go to the beach and figure out our next meal.

For our first 4 days we befriended a traveling mother and her teenaged daughter from Calgary, also at the hotel.  It was nice to exchange tales of our daily adventures with them, breakfast time or dinner each day.  Once they left I wondered if we would find some other travelers to entertain us, as many of the other rooms here are occupied by honeymooner types. In fact one evening, we heard some loudish music emanating from a room below ours and Izzy went to peek out over the balcony only to discover a couple in their private jacuzzi (not as private as they thought!).

We settled into a routine and each day we have come to appreciate our surroundings all the more.  Each morning, we sleep until 8 (or Izzy later if I don’t awaken him accidentally).  We make our way to breakfast at around 9 where a copious spread awaits us in the dining room.  There is plenty to fuel us for the day - yogurt, blood orange juice, croissants, rolls with jam and butter, fresh fruit cocktail, assorted farm fruits - plums, cherries, etc, cereals, cappuccino, tea and specially for me, rice milk.
After gorging on these delights we usually spend some time in dining room while I use the WiFi hotspot - as there is no free internet in the rooms (something that distressed me at first but is probably for the best as I am forced to limit my time at the computer).

After breakfast we usually meander back to our room and either take a bus on an excursion or go to the beach.  Each day there is some small discovery to be made.  Often, Izzy wanders along the paths created in and amongst the lemon groves, and takes great pleasure in snitching lemons (which we use in our endless bottles of fizzy water) and other fruits.

Lizards flit along the paths, surprising us at every turn and the hotel dog, “Billy” is our constant companion whenever we approach the dining room.  I think he must appreciate our truffle scent  (I packed truffle salt in our luggage as gifts and all of our clothing carries the aroma).

"Billy" rolls over for a scratch

The more we learn of this charming locale, the more we have come to love it. We have gotten to know our surroundings and the super-friendly and accomodating staff and we will certainly be sorry to leave here on Sunday.