Yes, yes, yes, my Bodhi has successfully put himself down for a nap! I am brewing coffee in the Moka (Italian coffeemaker), and trying to absorb some Italian words through the television. I tried for ten minutes yesterday to turn on the TV, and this morning, Bodhi went over, pressed a few buttons, and presto, the TV went on. Aha, the little guy has already surpassed my technical savvy. It is a beautiful day in Lucca. Tomorrow we head off for our final excursion of our trip: a weekend in Paris to watch the finale of the Tour de France. We have talked about seeing the ultimate bike race for years now. In fact, we were in Italy years ago, in 2003, while the Tour was taking place in France, a year Lance Armstrong won the tour, and we didn't go see it. We both regret not going, so this time, even though there is no Lance, we are going. Hopefully one of the riders I cheer on will win, but it is mostly the whole production, the crowds, the environment that we desire to see. Maybe there will also be time to go to the Louvre, go up the Eiffel Tower and so on. My husband has never been to Paris, so mostly it is a belated Father's Day gift for him.
Since Germany, every day we have endured the rain. It rained in Brussels, in Ghent, and even on our few days here in Lucca. Our son has his old car seat and stroller, with no rain guard, and no raincoat or rain boots. We have no raincoats or umbrellas. Like true Seattleites, we are holding out. We walk around in the wet weather like it doesn't phase us. Italians all seem to think they will melt like the wicked witch of the West in the rain, avoiding it, ducking under awnings or into the nearest coffee shop. Carrying umbrellas, wearing parkas and looking generally perturbed, they walk and bike through the streets. We are not too concerned with a little rain. But since it is supposed to rain the whole weekend while we will be outside watching the bike race and waiting in the rain, perhaps it is time I broke down and bought some rain gear and went to Paris prepared. As fate would have it, I actually have a raincoat for the baby, but we mailed it home. We have begun counting our days here - it is hard to fathom that we will be back home in ten days, no longer traveling, no more, 'ciao bello! ciao piccolo!' greetings for Bodhi, no more amazing pasta dishes, perfect macchiatos, no more stretching the mind to expand comprehension of this place and this language.
I hope while in Paris to see: the bikes flying at amazing speeds along the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. To again visit some of my favorite works of art at the Louvre museum, including Venus de Milo and Winged Victory sculptures, although the Musée d'Orsay is more my preference, there is no time for both!! To walk along the Seine and see all of the old book stands (or take a boat!). To view the Eiffel tower at night. To have one decadent Parisian meal. Paris here we come!