farewell monterosso

This was the second time we took the family to stay in Monterosso.  I'm noticing that sometimes we make friends easily.  Like with the owners of the small hotel we stayed at last time, the Poggi family. By the time we returned three years later, we were like old friends.  They were asking about the kids, and wanting to hear them play music, giving us gifts, and telling us about deans of U.S. colleges that they knew, in case we needed connections.  And the waiter at the restaurant we kept returning to began to feel like a friend after the third visit.  He was our server every time -- a smiling, gentle, polite young man who had a humble way about him.  I took a picture of him, because I wanted to remember him.

During this trip to Monterosso I found several pieces of beach glass on the shores of the Ligurian Sea. One piece had a tiny word written on it.  I chose to see into it, as I tend to see into many coincidences.  Vento.  It means wind.  I wondered about the meaning of this chance find.

Our time in Monterosso was perfect.  We slept well, breathing the cool salt air.  We ate well, consuming much fresh and homemade food.  We explored.  But mostly we rested, getting a break from internet and cell phones and our daily responsibilities. Such is the blessing of a holiday.

The kids got along nicely for the most part.  They each had a little more space this time. Annabel got her own room and she was happy to play lots of music.  She brought her bass and guitar to Italy.  It was pretty amusing, and at times challenging schlepping these instruments through so many train stations and on so many airplanes.  But she played them both every day.

After four full relaxing, peaceful days in Monterosso, we were ready for a new adventure.

Places are wonderful, but for me, it's just as much about the people.  Luckily, when it's time to leave a place, I get to take my favorite people with me.