The Rewards of Exercise

Rachel seems to be continually writing about food, therefore you'll understand the need for our current exercise regime. First off, NO weekends- that is important to state right away so those who know me don't think I've completely gone over the edge. But believe it or not, we have gone Monday through Friday except for the 5 days we were on vacation from our vacation. Mon, Wed, Fri are for "acqua" aerobics and Tues and Thurs are for the weight machines. Yesterday I decided to really go wild and do a non-acqua class called Evergreen. No it's not named Evergreen for Washington State and it's not named Evergreen in honor of Rachel's last 16 years of employment at Evergreen Treatment Services. Give up? It is so named because it is for all ages- young and old (although I was toward the old and maybe the youngest was 30). When I asked Christian, the instructor, that's what he more or less said- with something about all the seasons thrown in there, too. I'm still somewhat puzzled but oh well. It was kind of a low impact aerobics class with a lot of emphasis on the arms for the first 2o minutes. I was afraid I might slap myself with my own arm jiggle but on the other hand, after 4 years of frozen shoulders I was so pleased I could even keep up. Rachel had declined to join me in this class so I had to get semi-hysterical all by myself.

We are often the only ones laughing out loud in our acqua aerobics class... either from floating into others or waiting for one of our classmates- an older woman in a 2 piece- when her breast finally pops out of her suit (we have come to expect this about halfway through class and she is often oblivious...). So there we are groaning and giggling and the Italian women are so, well, serious and understated. Last Monday there was something wrong with the chlorine levels in the pool and we were all practically suffocating from the fumes. Now at home, neither of us would be too intimidated to tell the instructor or to go open the door for fresh air but here in Italy we were too shy. Yet it wasn't until the last 15 minutes that one of the Italian women spoke up. So there we were breathing toxic fumes because we can't speak Italian but what was their excuse?

But I digress... back to "Evergreen" and making a fool out of myself. I have only done a "step" class once or twice in my life and the memories flooded back when Christian brought out the steps. There I was back in Vienna in the 80's with my friend Jean taking a step class but that time, of course, in German. I thought we were going to die laughing at our ineptitude (or maybe it was just my ineptitude-misery does like company), just imagining what we looked like and I swore, never again. But here I was 20 pounds heavier and even less coordinated 2o years later, trying to follow the person in front of me and so grateful there was no one behind me. Then I turned around and who should be watching me through the large window, safely perched on the "shoulder" machine? None other than my sensitive, caring life partner and what was she doing? Why I believe she was laughing- and not "with" me... Such support! And what the hell does "step" have to do with "Evergreen" anyway- maybe I can sue for misrepresentation. Or maybe someday I'll try to take "step" at home with an English speaking instructor... yeah, that must be the problem....sure, Kim.

PS Who could resist a gym that serves incredible desserts and spiked wine in the lobby for Halloween? Following our time in the gym or aerobics we all were urged to partake. The funniest thing we saw, though, was one of the personal trainers wolfing down his cake while he was "training" someone in the gym. There's just something SO SANE about Italy, I can't tell you how much I love it here.

That Mystery Vegetable......

October 31, 2008

Thanks to an astute friend/blog reader/part time Italian resident, I have learned that the mystery vegetable that I mentioned in an earlier blog are......Cardoons. Ever heard of them? Neither had I.

Cardoons are a winter crop and are like celery but with sharper edges. One writer describes them as "celery on steroids". They are close cousins of the artichoke and can be eaten raw (as an antipasto) or cooked. They apparently are rather sweet and are balanced in sauces by anchovies, cheese, or a nice white sauce.

For more information, you can go to: http://italianfood.about.com/library/rec/blr0327.htm

I'll let you know what we think.....

Keeping Informed....

Happy Halloween!

This morning, I was up a little earlier than usual and I was reminded of a news feature on one of the stations. (It's the first time I've turned on the television since Rex disappeared.) It's a gentleman who reads articles from all the various papers around the country and then gives a little discourse on the article. He caught my attention when he was pointing to an article entitled, "Drogge strette sul methadone". It sounded as though the Italians might be using methadone for heroin addiction but that was all I could gather at the moment... Anyway, even if his program isn't particularly useful to this pretty ignorant American, non-speaker of Italian, I am sure that the rest of the country is grateful and it certainly saves on multiple subscription fees.

Tomorrow is All Saint's Day and also, The Day of the Dead; it is a big holiday in Italy. I'm not sure how it will manifest but I'm thinking a walk around the area to the various churches is called for and also a trip to the cemetery. I also believe that this means there will be intensive Friday shopping to replace Saturday market. I anticipate that it will be very busy as everything will be closed for the entire weekend. This time, we will not be caught unprepared!

New Discoveries....

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

In my wanderings at our local markets, I am seeing new crops of fruits and vegetables, some of which I personally couldn't identity. Yes, I have purchased them and brought them home to eat and to educate myself. The two are "kaki" or persimmon and "nopal" or prickly pear. Yes, I know, some of you may say, "But Rachel, you're from the Southwest and should know your cacti" but I didn't know about this prickly pear fruit (which is very abundant in the mountains of Mexico). I have discovered that it's very heart healthy, has lots of fiber, has antioxidant qualities and is very good for the GI tract...taste wise, nothing to really get excited over but all those seeds, well I can see their benefit...Oh, and one last thing, they're supposed to be "internationally known" as a great hangover prevention as they have an anti-nausea aspect to them.

The persimmon originally hailed from China and then made its way to Japan where they are very popular and come in many varieties. In the 1800's they were brought to the US and I guess are pretty common in California...again, I was totally ignorant when I first saw them. I thought they were pale, soft tomatoes. They come in styrofoam type containers and are very ripe and soft. We are not supposed to eat them until they are very ripe because unripened they can create a big blockage in our stomach which can be difficult to treat. This is a problem for animals who don't understand.

Taste wise, not too bad; I made a sauce for our salmon out of them. I think a sauce for pork would also taste good and they are abundant in Vitamin A and C.

There is one last veggie that I need to figure out. I haven't bought it because it just looks like really old, pale, wilted celery. I've seen big bunches of them in bins and am not too attracted. My next step will be to write down their Italian name and go from there. So much to learn.

A Few More Garden Pictures....

 

Our garden stroll lasted 3 or so hours. While we did occasionally see other garden visitors, for the most part we were all alone. We wandered along the trails reading about the various plants (from a 14 paged well translated English pamphlet) as we took in the beauty of the earth and sea (the land overlooks the Bay of Latte). It was a slightly windy day and it added a beautiful sound as tall pines and palms swayed back and forth. The middle picture in the collage is the ancient Roman Road which is also called Via Aurelia. It was an important line of communication finished in 12BC that connected across parts of what is now Italy. Standing there, looking at this road and imagining all who have passed by over the centuries, I was once again taken away by the connection from past to present. I can't imagine one soul who passed by who wouldn't have been taken in by the glory of the view and perhaps, too, wondered about their place on our planet.

More Liguria: Ventimiglia's Hanbury Botanic Gardens

 

The French border lies just a few miles west of Ventimiglia; the Maritime Alps meet the sea to form a natural border and it is the first town in Italy. Ventimiglia landed in our destination scope when we read about a place called Balzi Rossi (Red Cliffs) caves where some 185,000 years ago Cro-Magnon tenants called the place home. One of the caves has an etching of a horse that is now common only on the Russian Steppes. The other destination of our desire was Hanbury Gardens, the oldest botanical gardens on the Riviera founded in 1867.

Upon arriving at the train station, we found a tourist information center a couple of blocks away to ask how we could make it to these sites. We learned that the gardens could be accessed by a local bus but one needed a car (or cab) to make it to the caves at Balzi Rossi . So back to the train station we headed given the plethora of cabs we'd spied earlier. As Kim began to ask a driver about what it would take to go to Balzi Rossi (AND back) a woman leaned in and began asking me if we were headed to France. She and her companions wanted to go to Nice and the only way there is by cab--did we want to share one? Upon hearing the word "Nice" the driver quickly blew Kim off and as we began to observe, we quickly figured out the "lay of the land", and that is, the drivers only want fares to France. We watched as travelers organized themselves into groups for cabs to Nice and Monaco and since folks seemed to be arriving every few minutes, it became obvious that we wouldn't be taking a cab anyday soon.

As it was one of the main reasons for our interest in this area, our great disappointment and frustration spilled into just a teeny little barking at one another as we tried to move on and figure out our next move. We decided to try and find the bus to the Hanbury Gardens. Kim was able to get some basic information from the local tabbachi shop (where local bus tickets are purchased) and she was told the bus (#1) would leave at 1PM. So, still stinging from the barking, we headed for lunch to await our bus.

As is typical here in Italy, correct information must be broadly interpreted so even though we were promptly ready at 1PM, the bus didn't come for about another forty minutes. When it did, there never was any sign indicating that it was bus #1 and once the driver figured out what Kim was asking, he indicated that we should hop aboard and we began another journey of hope and trust.

Our bus was large and headed out along a small two lane winding road straight up a mountain. The views of the sea and valley below were spectacular and we became only slightly distracted by the cars coming toward us as our driver drove his rig like a speed way champ. Once again, the question of "How will we know when to get off" came up and we found that we were counting on the driver to let us know. And, he did, dropping us right at the entrance to The Hanbury Botanical Gardens--success, all thanks to Kim.

The gardens were founded by Sir Thomas Hanbury and his brother Daniel (1867). Sir Thomas was a wealthy dealer in silks and spices from Asia. He bought a villa and 30 acres and during his travels brought back rare and exotic plants from Africa, Australia, the Americas and Asia. He acclimatized the plants to coexist with native Mediterranean plants and by 1912 the garden had 6,000 species and a permanent staff of 45 gardeners. After his death, his daughter in law landscaped the gardens and took over their care. By 1930 Mussolini (an uninvited visitor) hosted Franco who allowed his soldiers to march over the plants (grrrrrrrrr). During the war, it sustained a lot of damage and it fell into decay until 1960 when the land was sold to the Italian State who turned over management of the gardens to the University of Genoa. As it turned out, the grandeur of the Hanbury Gardens and our 3 hour stroll through them more than made up for our disappointment in not making it to the Balzi Rozzi Caves. Another time, perhaps?

Some of San Remo

 

Kim already gave you a glimpse into what makes San Remo most famous these days, and that is its large casino--the only one on the Italian Rivera. For us, however, there were two other sites that took precedence and impressed us much more and they were: Alfred Nobel's (as in peace prize) villa and the grounds of the International Institute for Human Rights which are part of a city park planted by Swedish merchants.

Nobel(originally from Sweden) was an unrelenting inventor and researcher who became most famous for inventing dynamite; his empire included factories built in 20 countries around the world. This was during the period of the industrial revolution (mid to late 1800s)and this dynamite led to railway tunnels, canals, ports and increased weaponry. His large wealth allowed him to move to San Remo in 1891 where he purchased a "Pompeian style" villa on the sea front. He called the place, "My Nest" and added a laboratory and 40 meter pier reaching out to the sea where he conducted dangerous experiments. When his neighbors complained about all the explosions he bought their land and continued his work. The villa now belongs to the Italian government. It has a very nice museum that not only looks at Nobel's family and work history but also the history of the 1800's (including the sad fact that his younger brother died in an explosion in one of Nobel's factories). The museum also displays all the names of the winners from each category of the Nobel prize since its inception. In his will he bequeathed that with the interest from his fortune, five prizes will be rewarded each year recognizing the greatest achievements for humanity in these fields: Physics, Chemistry, Physiology or Medicine, Literature and contributions for world peace. In 1968 a prize for Economics was added by the Bank of Sweden.

Until the end of his life, Mr. Nobel's work was a complete contradiction to what became his life philosophy and legacy. In his final years he worked to improve fuses, silent detonation, improve the rotation of bullets and the cooling of rockets all while coming to believe that disarmament was the only path to peace. Mr. Nobel died from a stroke at the age of 66 on December 10, 1896. Five years later, the first Nobel prizes were awarded for the first time. Each year, on December 10, in honor of the day of his death, the awards ceremony takes place. Flowers from San Remo always decorate the prize ceremonies in Stockholm.

Moving on. Another thing we really liked about this area of Liguria is that it is so green and lush. That led us to the beautifully landscaped gardens of the Villa Ormond. It was here that we noticed the Institute for Human Rights; at the time, they were hosting a conference on immigration issues. The grounds are stunningly beautiful and full of many sized palm trees. It truly is an oasis and was a wonderful place to stroll, sit, and be at peace.

To Liguria...

 

 

It's definitely fall and the train ride from Alessandria to Genoa confirmed this. The train tracks cut through the mountains on their way to the coast and the colors of fall add to the beauty of this landscape. From Genoa, we transferred trains to connect to San Remo, via the local Italian Regionale. To get another train misadventure quickly out of the way, we overshot San Remo because a) we couldn't get the train door opened and b) we didn't try another door because we seemed to be inside a tunnel and weren't sure that it was the correct stop location. We were worried that we'd disembark in the middle of nowhere and given the frustrating habit of the Italians to not announce where one has arrived, we stayed on speeding to the next town, Bordighera, seven minutes away.

At Bordighera, we disembarked, checked the return schedule and found that we had an hour to wait until another train would arrive to return us 7 minutes back to San Remo. So, we took the time to have our lunch on a train station bench with a grand view of the Ligurian Sea, a stones throw away. While waiting, I discovered that it's a popular destination for British tourists and keeping with the entire region along this coast, contains vast fields of cultivated flowers. But, Bordighera does have its own unique specialty of producing date palms. The first seeds from Egypt arrived in 411 and since that time this area has supplied the Vatican with palm fronds during Easter week.

So, after our picturesque lunch, we hopped the train back and explained to the train conductor who checked our ticket why it was incorrect. At San Remo we disembarked and quickly learned why it had looked like we were "just in a tunnel". It was because we were; the San Remo station is one huge long tunnel that rivals airports with ridiculously long walks to the exit. It's a new station, moved from the waterfront and cuts through the mountains. So, now oriented to the train station, it was time to discover San Remo.

Some things we excel at, some things we don't...

 

 

 

 

Oct 25, 2008

We just returned home and thought I'd share a few pictures until Rachel more formally blogs. As part of our self-directed walking tour of San Remo. we decided to enter this large casino to look around. Once inside, we decided to try our hand at the slot machines. I felt like I had just arrived from Uzbekistan with a bucket of .25 euro chips and someone said here, feed this to the machines- they're hungry. Okay. What is it doing now??! Why does it say "Game over?" When did it start... to be so soon over? Did I do it right? Did I lose? Oh maybe I won- it says to go again. How do you know when you win? I looked over at Rachel who was just staring, trancelike, into her machine holding her very own bucket of chips. I at least kept moving, going from one machine to the other, hoping one of them would reveal its secret but not one was forthcoming. Rachel in her stillness fared no better. From other machines I could occasionally hear a cascade of chips let loose but even then the "feeder" sitting in front of the machine seemed so sanguine that I thought hmmm, nothing too exciting there. So after what felt like an eternity but was actually less than an hour, we agreed to blow the joint. I'm sure the people surveying on video camera were sorry to see us go- such free entertainment! Two crazy old ladies- one sitting and staring, the other on the move, then staring. Every now and then, one of them feeding a chip. I wanted to tell them that somebody else must have been feeding all the machines- and they were now full.

On the other hand we have had no problem drinking vino and playing cards on our terrace overlooking the Ligurian Sea...which begs the question, what exactly is Rachel looking for with those binoculars- a mermaid, perhaps? A mermaid who knows how to play the slots?

Chestnuts roasting....

 

 

 

October 19, 2008

Another weekend festival, this time to celebrate autumn, chestnuts and warmed wine. It was pretty small and we stayed only long enough to try the "chestnuts roasting on an open fire..." and a small glass of the wine. I had my first ever in life chestnut, and it will suffice. I didn't like it at all and thus I have learned a new thing about myself.

I should add a PS to let readers know that on Tuesday morning, we head out to the Italian Riviera just along the border next to France. We're going to San Remo and other little towns nearby. We return late Friday so we'll (let's be honest here, I will) be posting upon our return next week.

Rabaton!

October 18, 2008

Rabaton is a traditional Piedmont dish made of spinach, ricotta, and eggs. Once formed, it's rolled in some flour and added to a boiling broth until the little rabatons rise. They then are sprinkled with a pat of butter and parmigiano and baked for 20 minutes. YUM!

TiTi's Pee Pee

 

 

 

 

October 17, 2008
We’re on a cooking marathon. What I had thought would be a once every couple of weeks cooking lesson has turned into an almost daily event. This left Kim to ponder and ask, “I wonder why Rita thinks she has to teach you everything in one week?” Rita has initiated more and more and I do not want to say no to her generous offer and great kindness. Today, upon my arrival at Rita’s to make gnocchi, she was in a bit of a twit because her rabbit, TiTi had just “pee peed” on her couch for the second time this week. She greeted me at her door with cleaning supplies and began telling me how TiTi had just used the shower area to “pee pee” but then, not 10 minutes later, she used the couch again to “pee pee”. I could barely contain myself; it took great strength on my part to not burst out laughing. Poor Rita’s hands were flying everywhere as she cursed the little rabbit she dearly loves. Little TiTi just quietly munched away in her cage, oblivious to the chaos she had just caused. My first reaction was to begin to try to problem solve a housetraining regime but I quickly remembered that my Italian wouldn’t even begin to address such an issue. So, I just shook my head and gave her my sympathy and chided TiTi with “male TiTi; male, bad , bad TiTi".
So on to cooking and the creation of gnocchi—little pasta dumplings made from flour and potatoes. It’s been interesting for me to be in someone else’s kitchen and to adapt to their preferences and idiosyncrasies. Rita is quite fastidious and definitely has her way of doing things. I would say that I am much more casual in the kitchen and she’s more formal. You would quickly notice this also in the way she dresses. She is always dressed to the nines and looks very elegant, even when wearing blue jeans. Me, well you all already know that I missed out on that gene. And where I would just pick up a cooked potato and peel it with my hands, she delicately uses a fork to pull away the skin, the potato never coming into contact with her hands. She has me wear an apron, and where she tends to measure and weigh, I’ve always been a “throw in about this much” kind of cook. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. I am just noticing the differences and when you add this to our language barrier sometimes I’m just a tad anxious….I do try to use humor when I can. Today while shopping she accidentally hit me in the face as we were loading groceries. She quickly asked if I was okay and I decided to just collapse down into the trunk of the car as though passed out. When I looked at her face she was so horrified that I immediately burst out laughing and thankfully, so did she. We laughed and laughed and it melts away my sense of inferiority.
The gnocchi was easier to make than I thought it would be. She sent me home with enough for two meals along with the ragu sauce that we made last night (that involved a three hour simmering job). While at the store today, we also bought the ingredients for two more dishes: one I think will be another type of sauce and the other is something called “Rabaton”. She says that it contains spinach, ricotta, eggs and flour. I am not so sure because to my ears it sounds a lot like a soft little creature with floppy ears… Run, TiTi, run!

Four Months And Not Wanting To Count...

 

October 14, 2008

Today marks our four month anniversary in Alessandria. It's been the best of journeys so far and I can't really think of any disappointing events. I continue to be amazed that we are here and relish each day, wondering what it will bring. As I write these words I wonder to myself what stops me from feeling this way about ALL of my life? Do the structural confines of employment circumvent this feeling of wonder or is the challenge to find it despite the surroundings or "responsibility requirements"? Whatever it is, I am grateful for where I am right now.

In four months we've begun to develop some nice friendships and already I glimpse the edges of the veil of goodbyes. But, that is not staying in the moment and so I should concentrate on the most present of our time--our latest festival which we attended this past weekend. It was another adventure in that it was the first time we've ridden local buses--we discovered that we could only take a specific bus to find our way home--I was sure we would never be seen again, and we discovered that Alessandria is bigger than we thought and we're not at the "drop us anywhere and we'll find our way home" place. Sorry about the sentence but it was a long afternoon!

Filson's in Alessandria!??

 

 

October 12, 2008

Today, while taking our Sunday walk, we (I) spotted this store and window. Filson's is an old store for outdoor gear in Seattle. This store (as Kim calls it "a manly, manly store") specializes in Filson products along with many weapons and personal safety gear. Unfortunately it was closed so I did not get to go in...

Cooking Lessons!

 

 

 

 

October 10, 2008

Prior to leaving for Italy one frequently asked question was,"What will you do in Italy?" Many thought that one goal I'd have is to become fluent in Italian; while that would be nice, it's not. My goal was to find someone to teach me how to cook traditional Italian dishes. I'd fantasized finding a woman at the market and convincing her to take me home to teach me all of her secrets. Again, while I was in Seattle, Kim, who is our US ambassador, let it drop to one of our neighbors that I love to cook. Rita lives across the court yard from us. She is recently widowed and also lives next door to her daughter, grand daughter, and son in law--a long lived Italian tradition of family members remaining in close proximity. Word has gotten out that I am an acupuncturist and several of our neighbors have asked me for a treatment--including Rita. So, we made big plans: to go shopping together, do a treatment and then cook. For my lesson she chose cappelletti (little caps), a small tortellini wrapped around a meat mixture.

We went to one of the large supermercati and systematically purchased our ingredients. She taught me which quality of meats, flour, and herbs to buy as well as the ingredients for an excellent broth (which the cappelletti will be served in after cooking). All of this done with my broken, nonsensical Italian and her almost nonexistent English. I did pick up on her telling other shoppers at the meat counter that she was helping out the "Americana" who doesn't speak Italian and doesn't know how to cook in the Italian tradition; the other women nodding approvingly with great big smiles.

So, back home we came... and step one was to simmer the small pork roast (after careful trimming) in a half cube of butter for three hours. With that taken care of, I came back to our apartment for the rest hours and immediately fell asleep due to the brain drain of trying to keep up with her explanations and feeling rather stupid over my ineptitude...alas, there was more ineptitude to come so it was good that I did sleep.

You may wonder where Kim was in this process? She was nursing a cold and sore throat so did not join us on our shopping adventure (which she likely willed to happen as she so hates to grocery shop). Part of my brain drain, therefore, was that there was no one else to deflect the attention and attempt to translate. My shyness began boiling internally, sapping me of energy.

After rest hours, it was time to go and do the acupuncture treatment-- something I feel mostly capable of performing. It's harder here because I have no treatment table and have to figure out positioning on individual beds. Also, Chiara, Rita's seven year old grand daughter was not going to miss this event and had her sweet little nose about an inch from wherever I was working, bouncing the bed as I inserted the needles. Once the needles were in we left Rita to rest and Chiara decided that now would be a good time to give me a language lesson. She led me to the couch and handed me two of her school notebooks with words and spelling and had me read everything aloud; she was kind enough to correct my pronunciation with each word.

Time passed, the treatment concluded and it was time to hit the kitchen. Rita set everything up, including a counter space for Chiara who was doing her own pasta making. The rest of the afternoon evolved around making the filling ingredients (pork, prosciutto and freshly grated Parmesan cheese) and greeting various family members and friends who would drop by and cluck cluck at my attempts to learn. Early evening found us making the dough for the pasta- an intriguing process that involved making a moat of flour, putting eggs inside the moat and then mixing the flour and eggs with a knife--technique, technique, technique. Next came the kneading of the dough and Rita would gently push me aside and correct my shoddy attempts. Finally the dough was deemed to be the necessary consistency (I hope I remember) and it was time to use the cute old-style pasta making machine which after six passes at various settings produced the correct ribbon like size and thickness.

Next cut the squares, add the dollop of meat mixture and then try to fold the little suckers without making a total fool out of myself. I can't tell you how many tries I had to make before my brain absorbed the technique and sent the correct movement messages to my hands. Rita was kind and all I could do was laugh and point to my head and say, "zero, zero, zero". By this point, Kim had joined us with the camera. We'd been talking about her and I announced that it was time for her to join us. Chiara and I marched over to our apartment to let Kim know she must get out of bed and come over. How could she resist us in our little aprons standing at the side of her bed, me pleading for her to come for moral support and to join the fun of my ineptitude?

The din of the chatter and laughter increased with Kim's arrival, pictures were taken, and another relative arrived to greet. We were nearing the end of the cappelletti creations. She let us know that the week after next we would move on to something called "Rabatton"--a ricotta cheese and spinach creation (Kim was very pleased as it's one of her favorite combos). Rita sent us home with three trays worth of the folded cappelletti beauties with instructions on how to first freeze and then place in bags. We ran into other neighbors on our way out and people kindly oohed and ahhed while Barbara, our very next door neighbor remarked, "Rachel, you are always cooking. Will you start a restaurant in the US? I don't cook at all I prefer restaurants so that I can help others have jobs and allow our economy to flourish..." We laughed with Kim agreeing but also admitting that she had to do her part to be supportive of me. And yes, I slept very well last night. When I would occasionally awaken, I did think of the folding process, making sure it would now be burned into my brain.

Getting Buff....Yes!

 

 

 

 

October 9, 2008

We've taken the plunge and joined a gym! When I was in Seattle, Kim, while wandering the streets alone, discovered our new gym: Acquaelibrium. Again, we really hit it lucky because all the people we've dealt with couldn't be nicer. I really do believe that for people here in Alessandria, having Americans willingly living here is a real novelty for them. People always seem interested and a bit amazed that we are living here. While we can no longer say that we haven't heard English spoken on the streets, we can still count the number of times on one hand. A few days ago we heard someone with a British accent speaking as we walked by and yesterday, while buying gelato we ran into a group of folks from Minnesota. They are here visiting their sister who is living in Viargi--a nearby town in the wine producing region. She invited us to attend their wine tasting festival this weekend but without a car, I don't think we can get there. Her little town doesn't have train access.

The gym. It was quite a sight as five of us worked together to figure out the terms of our contract. Between the teeniest bit of English and lots of French with Italian thrown in, we were able to come to terms and we are now members. Whenever we walk in we are greeted like old friends and the owner keeps asking us if everything is going well.

They have a full gym with weights and machines; we had our evaluation and have our workout assignments which includes time on the tread mill and stationary bikes. We are signing up for the various water exercise classes; so far one with bikes and another called GAG. GAG is "glutes, abdominals and gambe (legs)". The bike class literally has bikes that go in the water with "cups" around the wheels to create increased tension; it about did me in! GAG was also good and next week we'll do others. Our biggest problem will be fitting it in to our very busy daily schedule. When we had our first evaluation appointment the other day at 11AM, I found myself whining to Kim that I didn't like having to be somewhere at an appointed time...how far I've slid!