Did I neglect to mention our recent adventures to Bardonecchia and Milan?
Maybe that is because they were more like misadventures, if you want to focus on the negatives.
Which I do for a moment.
Bear with me.
The intention was to go to Bardonecchia for Tony to go skiing and for Graham to potentially take a ski class, but he was too sick. I tried to take him ice skating while Tony skied, but he just couldn't get the coordination on the ice and he didn't have the strength to try because he'd had fevers all morning, so we had some lunch and then hung around our hotel until Tony was done.
We moved on to Milan the next day hoping against all odds that we would get to see The Last Supper painting, but all the tickets were sold out. It's quite a process getting in there because they are trying to keep the painting preserved. They only let a certain amount of people in at a time. Apparently, you have to get tickets several months in advance. We never plan anything that far out, so we were out of luck. I was and still am pretty sad.
We tried to go to another museum, but they wouldn't let us in with the stroller, so we didn't go in, because Alaina was sleeping in the stroller and I'll be darned if I was going to wake up my sick baby. The guy told us that we'd have trouble in all of Italy getting our stroller into museums. Um, sir, we've taken it inside the Vatican...
Tony figured out a way to get us two free nights in this fancy dancy hotel, so that saved the day.
It saved the next day, too, after we made it to the top of the Duomo only to have to change two poopy diapers on a crying, cold, sick baby. Graham and I also got pooped on by pigeons before we went up. So, there's that.
|It's possible she is crying about the hideous purple coat. I promise it looked better on the rack.|
Don't you worry about us, though. We plowed through and ended our weekend at a park where they happened to have a little carnival set up and our kids got to have some fun.
And then we slept our heads off in our fancy dancy hotel room.
In Italy, there is always light at the end of its many tunnels.