the sights (part 4)

Yosemite was my ma's most memorable stop in our road trip. why do you think?

the sights (part 3)

i could live in san francisco. really.

it's not called America's Finest City for nothing (update: oops. apparently, that title belongs to San Diego. but to me, SF deserves it more ;p)

it's beautiful, vibrant, relevant. and it's got this conscious living vibe. plus, it's got everything. i love its rolling hills, the rows of quaint victorian houses, the fog, and the Bridge!

some people who've seen the Golden Gate think there's nothing really spectacular about it, but when i saw it half-covered in fog, i just thought it was the loveliest thing. it looked like it was floating in a sea of clouds, like a gateway to heaven. i couldn't stop taking pictures of it.

if i were given a chance to pick a US city to settle in, it's gotta be SF hands down.

the sights (part 2)

views from my ride's window. nice, aren't they?

the sights (part 1)

seeing all these beautiful landscapes the past two days, i think i know my one word for america: expanse. everything i've seen so far seems so wide and open. and clear.
i thought i knew so much about this country already but when i saw it, it still felt like a total stranger to me. beautiful but empty (could it really be?)
later.

reminiscing rome

my husband liked rome more than paris. must be the warmer weather, ubiquitous pinoys (even our hotel receptionist was pinay), and the almost manila-like chaos which one misses in most parts of Europe. it feels like home indeed, but chicer, with much better views and definitely richer backstory.

and the food!

it's the food i remember the most when i think of this city. pizzerias are like our very own carinderias, turo-turo style. i-turo mo, ititimbang ko. you don't order pizza in small, medium, large. you point the variety you like, show how big you want to take, then the pizza guy cuts and weighs it. you order coke, and munch it in a small table in the corner or standing by the bar. then you listen to the melodic italian chatter of the policemen, the vendor and the other regulars, and it feels like a scene in NYPD blue.

the pizzas in these turo turo taste way much better than the ones offered in our posh italian restos here. but i love the ones by YC and CPK nonetheless, dear darla most especially.

bars refer to the coffee bars, because italians take their coffee seriously. no collectible Starbucks rome city mug for me, because it's utterly pointless to have Starbucks in Rome (and of course they don't have one single branch there). (pardon the two becauses)

romans swarm these coffee bars for their after-lunch espresso fix. italians like it black and bitter. no fancy coffee concoctions here. they drink their milk only in the mornings as lactose is thought to disrupt the digestive process (or something like that).

i think italians are generally minimalist when it comes to their coffee, and even fish dishes*. they want it plain and simple, no fuss, no frills. i remember one jamie oliver show where an old italian guy told jamie to skip the herbs because it will only overpower the natural flavor of the fish.

cold winter nights are no exception for enjoying a scoop or two of gelato. this i realized one night in trastevere where we had our budget-friendly dinner (we left no tip, because we had no euros to spare, and i absolutely regretted it afterwards. one should always honor good service).

St. Peter's Basilica is grandiose and overwhelming with details to the point of vanity. but that's just me. there will always be arguments about reserving the bestest and the most grandiose for God. i should have no problem with that, except that there's so much poverty around that grandiose is so out of context. whatever. i probably have no point here. i probably am just not a fan of grandiose.

the ruins in rome are all beautiful and majestic (even in ruins at that!). but they are reminders of the perversion humanity once glorified, if not enjoyed. proof that beauty and good don't always go together. then again, they are also reminders of humanity's endless capacity for change and continued enlightenment. so that makes these ruins good right? perhaps there's always good in something beautiful.

whatever.

*my picture below says otherwise. but generally, they like it with salt and nothing much else when it comes to grilling fish

kids' q&a

q&a with kids, aged 10, 8, 5:



What the kids want to be/do when they grow up:

Zaki: Write books (but i tell him he still can pursue other things side by side writing)
Yuan: Become kuya zaki's assistant (but, thankfully, he also thinks of becoming either a doctor or soldier)
Zion: Change my name to major zion and have 6 kids: 3 boys and 3 girls

-oOo-

who's the coolest girl in your class:

za: i don't know
yu: i don't know
zi: my teacher has a nice butt

-oOo-

what's the best thing about the palawan trip:

za: underground river
yu: underground river
zi: the van, the boat and the airplane

-----

note to self:
enjoy your kids while they're still uncomplicated and unencumbered. adulthood has a way of making us all serious: seriously funny, or sad, or clueless. we adults tend to become more deliberate, too self conscious, always eager to conform, to belong, to form an identity. in the process we end up losing our authenticity and a clear sense of who we are, which most people only regain past their 50s. (i've obviously been reading Tweetums Gonzalez and Gilda Cordero Fernando).

now i'm starting to sound seriously ruminant.
enough.

reminiscing paris

paris is not best enjoyed in the winter. our trip there was the coldest i endured. still, it's paris. it's beautiful all year long, but i can imagine even more so in summer, when the trees are lush and abloom.

i think my favorite spot in that city was inside Sacre Coeur Basilica. It's the only church so far that made my heart cry. it's so solemn, beautiful, and warm inside. warm, especially. it really felt like a sanctuary, not only for the spirit but the body as well. i wanted to stay there all night and await the breaking of a new day, one less colder.

The church sits on the top of the bohemian district of montmartre, and offers an amazing view of the city and that famous Tower. Inside, there's a large painting of the Sacred Heart, with His arms outstretched, on the ceiling. Those ever kindest eyes stare down lovingly at you, offering mercy and comfort. in my humble opinion, it beats michaelangelo's sistine chapel...

We did not experience the storied snootiness of the parisians. people say they refuse to speak english, but they didn't. they patiently explained to us how to go around when we kinda got lost. (but we just had to point the words in the map because we're not sure how to pronounce them; like the station "Invalides" is pronounced "anvalad"; and "George V" "djorj da sank")

we've always encountered unexpected kindness in all our trips, and paris was no exception. in the subway where there was no escalator, an impeccably dressed white male offered to help marvin carry our luggage down the long stairs even without our asking. and to think marvin looks like one of those jihad guys. we were floored.

so don't believe everything you hear about a place. expect the good things, and make your own opinion.

but believe it when they say paris is a beautiful city, because it really is. and much more.