A Tuesday's Dream

 As I understand it, there are no dryers in Italy. Everyone hangs everything on the balcony to dry. This is Cagliari on the island of Sardinia. Sardinia, interestingly enough, is closer to Tunisia than Italy. There is no underground metro. It is said that every time they dig for one, the call the archeologists to come claim a new site. Tuesday through Thursday, the men folk went to the graphics conference and I venture alone into the quiet city which I would rather call a town.  It feels nothing like SF, NY, or SLC, or any other big city I have every entered. While the buildings are all tall, stacked and the roads are small, it feels more small town-like, more intimate. Perhaps it is my perception of the culture: homey, laid back, and inviting. 

 While getting myself lost, I finally located this museum. It is an archeological museum in the middle of Cagliari, and wouldn't you know it, the museum is built on an archeological dig. It was dated back to the era of the Romans. Sardinia has changed hands so many times throughout history. 

 These are metal shoes found during one dig. Everything else in the museum was stolen from churches during raids. Apparently the Sardinians were mercenaries by trade.  They not only brought treasures back from their raids, but they inspired some famous traditions in other lands. In fact, we met a man who makes and plays an instrument called Launeddas. It is a triple piped flute created from reeds grown only in one location, in a remote part of the island. The perfect reed is hunted and cut at specific times of the year to be dried for two years in the shade. Then the long process of constructing it begins. The man who told us about it was so alive and animated about the history of the instrument which was played during Sardinian mercenary attacks. The Scottish bagpipes were inspired by this marauding instrument.

I entered a botanical garden kept by the local university. The walls were tall, but that was nothing compared to the trees which towered above them, or the the ferns which grew in a cave where a cat scared the stuffing out me and the German couple who followed me in. The agave leaves were more than twice the width of my hand and as firm as a man's arm. 

This is actually a bush planted all around the city.

 I planted a magnolia tree one week before we left for Italy.

 This magnolia is the welcome I received at the garden. Maybe I should rethink the location for our magnolia. Oh wait. I don't live on a tropical, sea breezed island.

This is the canopy of one of the famous Pines of Rome. Apparently there are several varieties.

Awesome palm tree supported by a rock pillar and growing those fabulous palms on the left.

 I was struck by these stairs. They are just stairs. I know. But, Italy is portrayed in tones of green and orange. This staircase surround by lush shrubs and trees, then lined with pots of grasses and flowers should lead to some place magical and romantic. After 100 stairs, (of course I counted, I was by myself) I found myself at the top and gazing upon a gravel parking lot. Anti-climatic.

 The garden was built around this fountain constructed during the Roman period. If it weren't for that black spiked fence, it would be a wonderful public bath.

 Here is the most important archaeological structure in the city and maybe on the island. A Roman amphitheater. To show how important it is, they added blue stadium seating. It is now an outdoor concert hall.

Fra Ignazio

 This was for Seth. The good brother's church was under renovations across the street, but I couldn't pass up a Nacho Libre moment for Seth. So I took his picture. Behind him is the modernized amphitheater. I am highly irked by the modern additions to the site which is built, carved out of the hill side.

 Some of the buildings were rich with detail and powerful in design.

 This is how we turn corners in Cagliari. I sometimes wonder who will make it first. Can you pass on a turn in Italy? The roads are chaotic.

 Voila, gorgonzola and radicchio pizza. Seth ate carbonara, an excellent spaghettini dish I would love to master. Brian ordered a classic calzone. The good Dr. E. ordered something with dried, grated fish eggs. A delicacy he did not favor.

I don't know if this was my pizza or the fish eggs. He is not an adventurous eater and sometimes, I don't blame him.

We picked up gelatos, of course. The blue is the Smurf gelato....it was marshmallow creme dyed blue. Not even cold even though it came out of the freeze. FYI: Smurf in Italian is puffo. The Smurfs, il puffi. Naturally our children now call them il puffi. And so do I.