David writes…

I need to lose some weight.  That was the blatant conclusion from my first few hours at the Thai stop-over hotel.  First I crashed through the wooden decking by the pool.  There might have been some rot, but it wasn’t a good look.

Then as I sat upstairs putting ice on a raw graze down my thigh, I broke a desk chair with a bang and ugly black springs flying across the room.

On the bright side, the hotel upgraded us to a suite that allowed us to put an extra bed and a cot in it without the room resembling a hedge maze, along with a pool/bath for max to swim in.

We headed straight to the pool after checking-in as it was an incentive/reward/bribe that was offered to an eye-rubbing, fidgeting Max on the flight over for having a nap.  I felt for the little lad as he struggled to get comfortable in the airline seats.  It’s not going to get any better for him either in the years ahead.

The flight over was pretty relaxed really.  Leo was his usual self: some time sleeping beautifully in the bassinet, some time restless unless he was held.  His ears gave him no trouble and if he didn’t get enough attention from the Thai Airways flight attendants, Max had them cooing as he wai-ed to them saying “sawatdee kup”

We have had a morning by the pool (or in Max’s case, in it continuously) taking care to avoid the decking and Danielle’s having a well-earned massage now while Max builds a playground for his imaginary Octonaut buddies out of Lego and Leo gets some kip.

Just after midnight tonight we fly out for Milan and soon we’ll be immersed in the architecture, culture and cuisine and we’ll see what chance I have of managing my waistline then.

Max dictates…

We’ve been flying on the plane here and I like being in Bangkok because there is a swimming pool.  I like the swimming pool because I can have lots of fun with the Octonauts.  Also, I like our apartment because I can play with the Lego and I’m building a park for The Octonauts to play in.

And also, I had a bit of trouble with it and I just need my Daddy to help with it and not write on the computer.

Wednesday 17 August

David writes…

We are here!  Finally, we are here!

The boys have been absolutely fantastic, as they have been thrown into all sorts of different places, situations, time zones etc.  For instance, our flight from Bangkok flew out at 00:40.  That is 3:40am Sydney time.  Yet Max dealt with it and despite being way overtired, he got some good sleep in on the plane.  Then as we managed all the bags and got the train from the airport to Milano Centrale, bought the wrong tickets for the train to Reggio, missed the right train by seconds, waited an hour, searched the surrounding streets for an ATM, grabbed a coffee and juice, got the right train, found a seat, got all the bags in, found out it was the one carriage without working A/C, stressed about whether it was indeed the right train and everything else, Max dealt with it so brilliantly.

Eventually, after a hot train trip we arrived in Reggio and got picked up by the owner of the first apartment we will stay in and finally we could stop.

A quick, cheap (€4.50!!) and very good pizza from the place 4 doors down, a shower and we all went down for a desperately needed sleep.

Waking Max up from his sleep was like torturing the poor boy, but it ws necessary to avoid the worst of the jet-lag and we got thereeventually, then headed out for a passeggiata (a stroll) around the town.  First stop was the park and Max had a run through the play fountain.  Then as we wound back towards the centre of the old town through the narrow streets the Gelato gods directed us to a gelateria and we blew €1 each on some beautiful gelati (mine was nutella and white chocolate).

The centre of town is beautiful; photos will do it more justice than I can write, but it has definitely lived up to my expectations.  A surprise was how dominant the bicycle is through the old part of town at least.  I think we are going to have to try to arrange some bikes while we are here.

Sunday 21 August

Danielle writes

I need to lose some weight.  That was the blatant conclusion from my first few hours in Reggio. Yes, Italy is a country of beautiful and slim pasta eating women and men. And we are staying in a region known as the “stomach of Italy”.  How hard can it be to wish to go home lighter than one arrived? Ok, so here are some simple vows: I promise never to have 2 gelato a day.  There you go, that is as far as I can go.

Seriously, Reggio has a lifestyle culture that would seem hard to beat.  Every one looks very relaxed.  The city centre has hardly any cars and people commute on bike.  No one seems in a rush.  Italy still believes in things we have learned to feel guilty about for fear they will kill us/make us fat etc.  Having wonderfully browned skin, drinking several cups of caffeine coffee a day, eating white bread and pasta every day.  I’d seriously like to know what their life expectancy stats are.  I haven’t seen a fat person yet, and the only overweight people are the nonna’s and you can forgive them a pancha at 80!

It’s curious that all the café’s serve snacks, but no oversized muffins or supersized sandwiches.  Every thing is snack size, a light small treat for in between meals. The range is local, a rice cake (that is actually a cake made with rice, not a polystyrene substitute), prosciutto on a roll, Erbezza (spinach in between puff pastry) etc.  So we sometimes share a light snack as morning or afternoon tea.

The cafés don’t have a list of all the ways you can have coffee.  Everyone drinks espresso.  One place we have found serves decaf.  No skim milk or soymilk to be found! I went to pay for my coffee yesterday and took out €3 without thinking- it only cost me one! Ok so I’ll make one more promise; No more decaf soy lattes.

Monday 22 August

Danielle writes…

Today we decided to head up to into the Apennines to Castelnovo ne'Monti as they were predicting 39 degrees in Reggio. Up there it was only 29 degrees and a much more comfortable heat.  We walked in the historic centre and did some shopping in a baby shop.  Our shopping encounters often afford us our best opportunity to use the language.  The shop wasn’t busy so the lady was quite happy to chat and we left with beach and restaurant recommendations. We’ve often had our best meals thanks to recommendations from locals.  It helps when you have the language I guess. 

In the Trattoria Geremia there was, once again, no menu so we asked him what the specialty of the house was.  He started us on their own Salumi: a house-made type of prosciutto (meatier with less fat); and Salami which was tender and sweet.  Then a plate of Tortellini and Ravioli, served with butter and parmesan and a bowel of ragù on the side. 

I know I should know the difference but it did look like we just ordered 2 dishes of essentially the same thing: one with small squares and the other larger squares.  So I asked the stupid question – and the difference is Ravioli have meat (normally prosciutto) and the Tortellini are just vegetables.  The pasta was delicate and the fillings delicious.  The plain butter sauce just allowed the flavours of the pasta and fillings to come through.  The ragù though was also a rich and delicious sauce, lovely in its own right. 

David had some Lumbrusco to go along with it.  The Trattoria had a lovely feel to it, the family were sitting down to their lunch as we came in.  They even shared some of their gnocchi with Max for his lunch (they were delicious but Max was a bit non-plussed). They made us feel welcome and the owner, Massimo, was proud to share his food with us.  All this, by the way, for €44.

When we got home we looked into the beach recommendation.  David Google Earthed the area she suggested.  It was not quite the idyllic beach location we were hoping for and we fear we won’t quite find it in this part of Italy.  Every square inch of the beach was covered in multi coloured umbrellas and deck chairs that have to be hired out for the day leaving very little public beach space if all you want to do is lay a towel and enjoy your own space.  But that’s Europe for you. They must find it equally as bizarre when they travel to Australia.

David writes…

Thank goodness the trip to the mountains turned out okay as it started in debacle.  The plan was to visit an historic town on the River Po called Guastalla, but after finding ourselves completely alone on a railway platform we discovered the train wasn’t coming (summer timetable operating).  Time for Plan B so we headed to the nearby bus interchange and fortunately there was a bus to Castellonovo dei Monti leaving in a few minutes.

Like all the bus drivers in Italy, ours suffered dyslexia that results in the letters INVECO being read as ALFA ROMEO and he roared across the plains and up into the hills and then mountains taking it wide then cutting through the apex of hairpin bends; all while talking on the mobile.

Arriving back in Reggio the 10 degree temperature difference hit us in the face.  We almost literally staggered to the gelataria for some relief.  Then cold showers back home and wait for the heat to disapate.

Tuesday 23rd August

Danielle writes…

We took Max to the public library today the idea being it can be a semi regular outing for him.  Its quite a large library and had a kids area with a couple of tables and chairs and a whole area of infants books.  We found a couple of good books that he enjoyed reading, in Italian of course.  However, they also have a whole section of English books, but sadly the Octonauts have not caught on yet in Italy. 

The best blackmail material we have is the prospect of going to England as they sell Octonaut books and DVD’s there; a fact that Max reminds us of frequently.

Wednesday 24th August

David writes…

Another excursion today and this time it went as planned.  I have a belief that catching the public transport is one of the most intimidating things you can do in a new city.  Everywhere it is a different system: Which line to take? Do you buy tickets on the bus or before?  What are the zones?  Where do you get off? 

We had a timetable of the local buses, but it, frustratingly, lacked a map so it took a lot of concurrent squinting at a micro timetable and a map of the city, but I think we can at least reliably get the bus to the train station now.

Like our excursion to Castelnovo, we travelled to another city just to go clothes shopping for the kids.  I am SO much more patient with this type of clothes shopping than I am with myself or, god forbid, Danielle where I am told I put on such a display of huffing and sighing I could do it for a NIDA audition.

The value here is so much better than Australia and of course it has a style that Max can pull off (and his Dad can’t).  Couldn’t come back without some Italian clothes, could we?

Parma is bigger and bit showier than Reggio and we strolled into the old bit of town and walked down a leafy avenue to a puppet museum.  Sadly, it wasn't designed for kids so we didn't put Max through looking at a bunch of old puppets behind glass.  Every day there are plenty of compromises as we can't do what we want or what we used to do before kids (I'm not saying a puppet museum is top of my list, though) and we have to remind ourselves that we can't travel like we used to and there are things we can't put Max reasonably through.

Thus, feeling guilty about the shopping and another stop at the bloody Vodafone office to try and get the internet sorted, we asked a shop assistant for something to do that would be good for Max and she talked of a park with jumping castles and a pizzeria. The image of Max running around releasing energy while Mum and Dad sit and relax with a cold drink and some lunch seduced us completely so we piled in a taxi and drove through the suburbs of Parma.

Unfortunately, our quest failed and the jumping castles had moved on and instead there were a few swings roasting in the sun circled by parched grass.

Rather than get stranded out here, we asked the taxi driver to take us back into the city. He told us of another park with a roundabout and a café, but no Italian takes their child out in the midday heat so that was closed too. We gave up, but felt we got some value out of the €20 trip with a recommendation for the wonderful Trattoria Corrieri.

Refreshed thanks to the delicious pasta, salad and (yes!) some cakes we went back to the train station and back to Reggio.

After siesta and an early dinner we went for a passeggiata up to the teatro municipale. In the square in front there are three rows of fountains that Max has scurried through in his undies with the local kids on previous occasions.  Even better, tonight it was lit up with a rainbow light show that made the delight for Max as he tore up and down even more ecstatic.

The gelati gods (or just plain cunning navigation) took us back home via a gelateria that was doing great business with the warm evening and young and old were outside relishing their purchases. I made the first mistake of the trip going for zuppa inglese or "English Soup". Yes, I know that sounds bad, but I had done some research and found out that it actually is a dessert that involves liquor soaked sponge and cream, so I gave it a go.  Great big chunks of sponge sticking out from my cone was a bit of a shock and the liquor was that almond flavour that I really haven't liked since I was a kid. However, underneath was Baci (chocolate with hazelnuts) so I soldiered through it.

The Octonauts?

You so clearly don't have a preschool kid! By clicking on that link you just revealed your ignorance of the biggest craze going around the four-year-old set.

The Octonauts are a high-tech group of animals who live in a submarine base and explore the oceans and rescue and protect the sealife. The will be as big as Thomas the Tank Engine if the hype that Max has for them (and nearly every kid of his age). For more, visit www.octonauts.com