One calm day in Chiavari City
That evening, we enjoyed the peace and quiet of the house where we were staying. Olive and lemon groves, hammocks, balconies, Foosball, happy dogs, Sudoku puzzles...
And then we tried to eat dinner at the little Italian restaurant up the road. Which was closed. And surrounded by military jeep and men in uniform. I desperately wish I had taken a picture of the sign on the door, but the general gist is "This place has been closed by order of the Italian government in order to provide a place for our soldiers to stay" Because they had had to call in the military in order to deal with the floods.
This was the point that Steven blamed everything on this trip as an official Act Of God and he can't be considered responsible for any of it.
Instead, we drove into Chiavari and ate at a little restaurant recommended by our "Den Mom" (the only possible way to describe the woman who owns the house. She's a gem among gems. And never, ever, ever shuts up.)
After being cooped up for a week, everyone was feeling a little silly
There still wasn't water in the town, so many of the menu items weren't available, including the pesto to Jonathan's great disappointment. The server spoke no English and the owner very little. So we ran forward with our motto of "It's An Adventure!" and my parents ordered the pesci. That theoretically should have been fish. Instead, it was whole shrimp, crawfish-like things, eels, and sardines. Mom's face was priceless. She kept poking at it, possibly afraid that it was going to move.
Rebecca and Gabbie got pasta with shrimp.
And then we tried to eat dinner at the little Italian restaurant up the road. Which was closed. And surrounded by military jeep and men in uniform. I desperately wish I had taken a picture of the sign on the door, but the general gist is "This place has been closed by order of the Italian government in order to provide a place for our soldiers to stay" Because they had had to call in the military in order to deal with the floods.
This was the point that Steven blamed everything on this trip as an official Act Of God and he can't be considered responsible for any of it.
Instead, we drove into Chiavari and ate at a little restaurant recommended by our "Den Mom" (the only possible way to describe the woman who owns the house. She's a gem among gems. And never, ever, ever shuts up.)
After being cooped up for a week, everyone was feeling a little silly
A small Groucho Marx - or The Penguin
Mah name is Jaque Cloo-soooooo.
I am the Walrus, coo coo cachoo
I surrender!
I have no idea the story behind this one.
There still wasn't water in the town, so many of the menu items weren't available, including the pesto to Jonathan's great disappointment. The server spoke no English and the owner very little. So we ran forward with our motto of "It's An Adventure!" and my parents ordered the pesci. That theoretically should have been fish. Instead, it was whole shrimp, crawfish-like things, eels, and sardines. Mom's face was priceless. She kept poking at it, possibly afraid that it was going to move.
Rebecca and Gabbie got pasta with shrimp.
And the meal ended with laughter, happiness, traffic, and a lot of mud.
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