8/3/14 - "Sardinia Day 1 - Cold Water"
Blogger's Note: Before we get started on Sardinia, I think I need to wrap up Poland just a bit. I'll do that now.
My mood hadn't been stellar. I had, for the most part, been stuck in Kalwaria at Joanna's parents house for the majority of our time in Poland. If we weren't getting ready for the wedding, we were getting ready for the baptism. If not the baptism, then Amelia's birthday. And if we weren't getting prepared for an event then Joanna was sick, and then Roman was sick, and then Amelia was sick. At the house in Kalwaria, I don't have a lot that I can do. I can't watch television (I can't understand what's being said). I can go for a walk, but the town is small and there's not much to see. And, as I've already mentioned, the WIFI signal can only be reached from the master bedroom (or the balcony attached to it). So, that's where I usually stayed. In the past, I had had some American companion to talk to; but, this time, I had nobody.
Joanna, perhaps feeling sorry for me, understood my plight. She called up her English-speaking cousins Dominika and Maja, and we all hooked up for a Kazimierz afternoon of good food and spirits. We had all of our conversations in English that night (bless their hearts), and we had some rather fantastic discussions.
I had hung out with Maja before; but, in previous visits to Poland, she never spoke much English. She was always rather polite, but I just didn't know much about her. At Arek and Ewa's wedding, for the first time, Maja and I had a conversation. She told me how she how just gotten back from a magical vacation in Italy where she had toured the country in a group of nine motorcycles. She described the food and the sights with such spunk and fragrant description that I knew that we should be friends. She explained that, over the course of the last two years, she had been getting some English lessons from an Australian tutor.
We all congregated in the center of Kazimierz before migrating to the Horai restaurant so we could assemble at a sidewalk table and eat some Thai or Japanese food and drink.
After dinner, we made our way further into the Jewish district. In the distance, illuminated by the setting sun, the balloon that spectators used to get a bird's eye view of Krakow was climbing into the sky. We wove through the narrow streets. Tiny bars and restaurants that seemed to only have one or two tables inside lined the passages. They each had a signature personality. Some had a decor that belonged in the seventies; other were very modern; some were sports bars; others were hippie hang-outs. Upon inspection, the tiny rooms usually emptied into secret, hidden gardens where the majority of the tables were corralled.
We chose a quaint place that seemed to have a good dessert selection and an even better drink menu. The place horseshoed around a centralized room that was outside. Ivy crept up the brick walls on buildings that surrounded us. One building in particular seemed to be breaking in half. While Maja and Joanna pondered over ice cream or cake, Dominika and I discussed the irony that just mere decades ago, this had been the ghetto. The Nazi's had cordoned off this area to segregate the Jews. Very likely, a starving, scared family was hunkered in that dilapidated building, hoping against hope for a miracle.
We decided that the artsy, cultural center that Kazimierz had become was so very appropriate. I felt like we were throwing up a middle finger to the villainy of the world; we were raising our beers against tyranny; and, we were feeding the ivy with hearty laughter and love instead of the creeping fear and hopelessness that once, here, thrived.
Dominika told us about a trip to South America and some of the missions that she had been on to educate and help the children of another world. She relayed the time that she had walked through the mountains until sundown. The absence of light and the cold had forced them to set up their tents for the night. She said that she had truly feared for her life that night.
Maja informed me that she worked with French bra models; so, then, of course, I wanted to know all about that. She had been staying in Paris a lot lately; but, she said she was in love with Italy. We talked and laughed until we had to zip up our jackets to the night that was growing damp. So, we said our goodbyes and navigated the unsteady cobblestones back to the car.
The only other social diversion that we managed was a day in Myślenice where Joanna's cousin Magda lived. She had two sons that could play with Roman. So we spent a day there, where Magda spoke only English to me. We visited a very cool park there where Roman and his cousins played on scooters and the playground there. Later, Magda cooked us an Indian dinner that was simply amazing. She was a home decorator; and, based on what I saw of her home, a damn good one.
But, other than those two magical days, everyone was too busy in their own universes, so I had been cooped up on a balcony in Kalwaria... for a bit too long...
Listening to: Kiesza - "What Is Love?"
Roman had thrown a tantrum. A really major one. And not the first.
He didn't want to stay even five minutes without us. So, no, when we decided to do some last-minute shopping in Krakow, he wasn't going to stay at Ba Ba's and Dza Dza's. Not like Amelia, who loved it there.
He was on his back kicking and screaming. And Ba Ba and Dza Dza didn't think that us going to Sardinia for a week without him was going to work. He was going to have to go with us.
This really pissed me off. From the moment that we arrived in Poland, I had been telling Joanna that we needed to be doing things. Fun things. Right from the start. That way, Roman would see how much fun hanging out with his Polish grandparents could be. But, noooo... she wouldn't listen. She wouldn't translate. She wouldn't even acknowledge my concerns. And see? See now? I was right. I had been right all along. Roman hadn't been warmed to the idea; so, of course he wasn't going to quietly acquiesce now...
Joanna and her parents suggested that we take Roman with us.
Oh no! Oh, fuck no!!! He wasn't going to Italy with us! Italy? Wine-country, romantic, exotic beach-filled Italy??? Oh, no.. I don't think so! I'd just assume not go than take our four year-old with us to Italy!
So... Joanna and I had a nuclear meltdown. One of the most memorable of our marriage, in fact. I wasn't taking our four year-old to the epic vacation adventure that had been two years in the making. All that vacation time we had to save! All that money!
I just wanted to go home.
Just call the airline, pay the fee to get my ticket changed, and get my ass back home. There wasn't anything left to do in Poland, and I wasn't taking Roman with us to Italy.
After a good hour of solid pleading and intense discussion, Joanna finally convinced me to take Roman with us. But I wasn't happy about it. Not one damn bit.
The plane would be leaving Warsaw at 7am Sunday morning which meant we'd need to be at the airport at about 5am to get checked in. The drive from Kalwaria to Warsaw was around 5 hours, which meant that we'd need to leave Ba Ba and Dza Dza's at about 11pm Saturday and drive through the night.
We didn't really get any sleep that Saturday either. Joanna's friends that she had met and worked with on her first trip to America just happened to be in from Australia and had come by for a visit. I got to meet them for the first time. Ben was really interesting, and he spoke great English. He told me all about Australia and some stories about surfing and his trip to Thailand and learning Thai boxing. Very cool, indeed.
I ended up just staying awake and watching World Cup soccer with Joanna's dad. Just before 11pm, we loaded up the van, said our goodbyes, and fastened our groggy son into his car seat.
Joanna drove the whole way. The plan was for me to tag in when she got tired, but we saw several Polish police officers on the way. They stand intermittently along the highway. If they catch you speeding or have some reason to stop you, they wave the flashlight in their hands and, then, you'd better stop. We weren't sure of the legalities of me driving in Poland; so, we played it safe and Joanna drove the whole way.
Something that we had noticed in Poland that was certainly different from Kentucky was the amount of daylight there. It didn't get totally dark there until around 9pm, and it seemed like the sun began to come up around 3am. Well, we confirmed this belief on the road that night. By 4am, we could see easily without headlights. Interesting...
We rolled into Warsaw around 4:30am and hit a McDonald's drive-thru before we had to get on the plane. It was a 24-hour joint; but, apparently they didn't serve breakfast until 6am so we had some burgers. (Just as well with me, 'cause I don't like breakfast food anyway...)
We found the parking lot where we would park the van and get shuttled over to the airport. We stood in the long line to get our baggage checked-in and then made our way to the correct gate. On the way, I kept looking for a restroom, as I needed to go badly. We walked a hundred yards before we came to the first restroom, but it was closed for cleaning. I walked for what felt like forever before I finally found one that was open (the point of me sharing this will be revealed in a future feature, so stay tuned...)
The flight was only two hours. When we landed in Olba, Sardinia we made our way to baggage claims and then to the bus that would be transporting us to our resort. A resident speaking in Polish began to explain the itinerary once everyone had found their seats. Our resort would be the second stop which was fantastic considering that at our last two excursions (to Crete and to Egypt) we had been the last bus occupants remaining when we finally arrived at our destinations.
The drive from Olba to La Conia was about an hour. Travel began to wear us down, especially Roman. He started throwing a fit; I'm sure he was hungry and wanted to lay down. The dizzying road twisted through the coastal mountainside; sometimes we could see a span of asphalt that we had just traversed after we had rounded a hillside.
When we finally arrived at the resort, I was anxious to be in our room. Roman's tantrum had intensified, justifying my insistence that he not join us. The receptionist explained that the time was only 11:00am and that the room wouldn't be ready until 2pm. We were welcome to leave our luggage by the desk and walk around. We could also eat the buffet which opened for lunch at 12:30pm. I was frustrated.
Let me explain something about myself. I get cranky when I'm hungry or tired. And, if I'm hungry and tired, I'm beyond reason. You see, if I'm hungry, I can eat. Problem solved. If I'm tired, I can sleep. Problem solved. But, if I'm hungry and tired, then I'm too hungry to fall asleep; and, I'm too tired to get something to eat. It's a perpetual cycle with no pleasant solution. And, that morning, I was very hungry and very tired. And, to make matters worse, Roman's tantrum was growing to epic proportions.
The lady at the desk, growing aware of the volatile situation, offered to get us a room at 12:30pm. "We care about the children here at La Conia," she said with a snooty air, in her snooty suit, with her snooty glasses. She gave Roman a penguin stuffed animal that was the mascot of this particular chain of resorts, here, shut up little boy. I was hoping Roman would mistake it for his favorite cartoon penguin: Pingu. He didn't.
As we waited, I tried to pass the time on my smart phone, which is when I found out that the WIFI that was promised by the website wasn't free and was only available in the lobby. Fucking crooks. Now, I wasn't going to be able to write like I had wanted to. It was one of the reasons we a chosen this resort.
Finally, at 12:30pm (the same time that lunch was available), our room was ready. A boy that didn't say anything after the resort's signature bonjourno led us up two flights of steps to a door that overlooked the pool. He didn't bother to help us with the three, giant suitcases that we had to lug up the stairs while a frenzied, four year-old was kicking and screaming. At the room, he pointed at the door and walked away. Well, fucking bonjourno to you, too, mother fucker.
The room was rather typical. It had a cooler, a king-sized bed, and a small, side bed/couch from where Roman could ruin my vacation. A balcony overlooked a small playground; and, in the distance, we could see the Tyrrhenian Sea. I just needed to close my eyes for a minute. I wanted to eat, but I just needed to rest my eyes for a bit...
I awoke at 2:00pm. The lunch buffet was over, and I was oh-so-hungry. I grabbed my shoes and ran downstairs to see if anything was left. I walked through and found cold chicken and some lunch meat that I was too afraid to touch. While I had slept, Joanna had fed Roman and packed some of the swimming gear. She said she was taking Roman to the beach. I decided to join them.
On the back side of the resort, the main artery that ran through the village paved between the beach and the mainland. A narrow track of sand was what the brochure had called a beach. The view was beautiful, but the beach was hardly existent. We walked a ways down the street, hoping to find a better location to swim.
Along the walk, an inviting restaurant had its windows propped open to allow the sea breeze to caress its occupants. The food smelled amazing, and I was hungry.
"Joanna, I gotta get something to eat," I told her. She agreed, and the three of us entered the establishment. A friendly host sat us at a sea-side table. Unfortunately, the view was a little too good. Roman could see people swimming and playing. His patience was gone. We had been promising to take him swimming all night long, and the time had come to ante up. He wasn't going to sit quietly.
"Joanna, baby... please take him to the beach. My head is pounding; I'm hungry. Let me eat quickly, and I'll come down there and swap places with you," I pleaded. Thank the heavens, she agreed to the deal. She took Roman's hand and led him to the beach.
When my waiter came, I ordered some type of seafood pasta and a carafe of white wine. Some fresh bread was brought as an appetizer.
The pasta ended up being some type of linguine with clams and mussels. A large prawn centerpiece was staring fearfully at the ravished American.
I had never eaten (and still haven't) pasta as good as that was. I could have eaten the linguine with nothing on it. It had this ever-so-slight saltiness to it, a faint aftertaste. The mussels were unlike any I had ever had. I like mussels ok, I guess; but, these were so soft. They weren't chewy at all, nor the clams. I destroyed the plate of food, paid the tab, and went to find Joanna to trade out.
At the beach, Joanna and Roman were both in the water. I had been wearing my swimming trunks; so, I decided to get in myself. As soon as my foot touched the water, I realized that it was cold It was fucking cold. I hate cold water. It was still swim-able; hell, many people were. But, it would take some getting used to. I slowly migrated to where Roman and Joanna were splashing and playing. Those fucking Polish were impervious to cold. How did they do it?
I swam for a while after I had finally adjusted to the water temperature. The weather itself was quite nice, and I wondered if the resort's pool might be warmer. So, I offered to take Roman to the pool there while Joanna had some "chill" time.
A small, "kiddy" pool that was about knee-deep was perfect for myself and my son. We were the only two there, besides a young lifeguard. As soon as we stepped into the water, he began to admonish me for something. I couldn't figure out what it was, but he kept pointing at his head. I came to realize that he wanted us to wear a hair cap while we were in the water; apparently, it's an Italian "rule" (hell, maybe a law). Our heads weren't even in the water. I was in a foul mood and just wanted to punch the arrogant asshole when he produced a small cap that Roman could borrow. I got out of the pool and watched Roman play for a while.
Joanna showed after a span of time, and the sun was beginning to fall. We decided to go for a walk around the resort. Near the back, a stage was lit up, and some performers were gathering to put on a show. Several children were gathered to watch the act where someone dressed like the resort's trademark penguin was dancing alongside several young girls. Joanna and I ordered a beer, sat, and let Roman enjoy the show.
Afterwards, we decided to go for a walk further into the village. After going several blocks, we began to realize that there was nothing here. We walked and walked as I grew grumpier and grumpier. At last, I decided that I had had enough. I just wanted to get back to the room and try to forget that this day had happened. I wasn't sure what in the hell we would be doing for a week at a resort with shitty food, cold water, no WIFI, and nothing whatsoever to do. My vision of Italy had been very different than this. I wasn't sure what we'd be doing tomorrow; but, whatever it was, it almost certainly wouldn't be fun...
(to be continued...)
-- Please "like" Parenting with Lightsabers here if you haven't already
-- Read about our adventures in Poland with features like "Flying to Poland".
-- Or continue reading about our Italian vacation in "Sardinia Day 2 - A Serendipitous Encounter".
Blogger's Note: Before we get started on Sardinia, I think I need to wrap up Poland just a bit. I'll do that now.
 |
| Dominika, Maja, and Joanna |
Joanna, perhaps feeling sorry for me, understood my plight. She called up her English-speaking cousins Dominika and Maja, and we all hooked up for a Kazimierz afternoon of good food and spirits. We had all of our conversations in English that night (bless their hearts), and we had some rather fantastic discussions.
I had hung out with Maja before; but, in previous visits to Poland, she never spoke much English. She was always rather polite, but I just didn't know much about her. At Arek and Ewa's wedding, for the first time, Maja and I had a conversation. She told me how she how just gotten back from a magical vacation in Italy where she had toured the country in a group of nine motorcycles. She described the food and the sights with such spunk and fragrant description that I knew that we should be friends. She explained that, over the course of the last two years, she had been getting some English lessons from an Australian tutor. We all congregated in the center of Kazimierz before migrating to the Horai restaurant so we could assemble at a sidewalk table and eat some Thai or Japanese food and drink.
 |
| once the Jewish ghetto |
We chose a quaint place that seemed to have a good dessert selection and an even better drink menu. The place horseshoed around a centralized room that was outside. Ivy crept up the brick walls on buildings that surrounded us. One building in particular seemed to be breaking in half. While Maja and Joanna pondered over ice cream or cake, Dominika and I discussed the irony that just mere decades ago, this had been the ghetto. The Nazi's had cordoned off this area to segregate the Jews. Very likely, a starving, scared family was hunkered in that dilapidated building, hoping against hope for a miracle.
 |
| At Magda's |
Dominika told us about a trip to South America and some of the missions that she had been on to educate and help the children of another world. She relayed the time that she had walked through the mountains until sundown. The absence of light and the cold had forced them to set up their tents for the night. She said that she had truly feared for her life that night.
Maja informed me that she worked with French bra models; so, then, of course, I wanted to know all about that. She had been staying in Paris a lot lately; but, she said she was in love with Italy. We talked and laughed until we had to zip up our jackets to the night that was growing damp. So, we said our goodbyes and navigated the unsteady cobblestones back to the car.
The only other social diversion that we managed was a day in Myślenice where Joanna's cousin Magda lived. She had two sons that could play with Roman. So we spent a day there, where Magda spoke only English to me. We visited a very cool park there where Roman and his cousins played on scooters and the playground there. Later, Magda cooked us an Indian dinner that was simply amazing. She was a home decorator; and, based on what I saw of her home, a damn good one.
But, other than those two magical days, everyone was too busy in their own universes, so I had been cooped up on a balcony in Kalwaria... for a bit too long...
Listening to: Kiesza - "What Is Love?"
Roman had thrown a tantrum. A really major one. And not the first.
He didn't want to stay even five minutes without us. So, no, when we decided to do some last-minute shopping in Krakow, he wasn't going to stay at Ba Ba's and Dza Dza's. Not like Amelia, who loved it there.
He was on his back kicking and screaming. And Ba Ba and Dza Dza didn't think that us going to Sardinia for a week without him was going to work. He was going to have to go with us.
This really pissed me off. From the moment that we arrived in Poland, I had been telling Joanna that we needed to be doing things. Fun things. Right from the start. That way, Roman would see how much fun hanging out with his Polish grandparents could be. But, noooo... she wouldn't listen. She wouldn't translate. She wouldn't even acknowledge my concerns. And see? See now? I was right. I had been right all along. Roman hadn't been warmed to the idea; so, of course he wasn't going to quietly acquiesce now...
Joanna and her parents suggested that we take Roman with us.
Oh no! Oh, fuck no!!! He wasn't going to Italy with us! Italy? Wine-country, romantic, exotic beach-filled Italy??? Oh, no.. I don't think so! I'd just assume not go than take our four year-old with us to Italy!
So... Joanna and I had a nuclear meltdown. One of the most memorable of our marriage, in fact. I wasn't taking our four year-old to the epic vacation adventure that had been two years in the making. All that vacation time we had to save! All that money!
I just wanted to go home.
Just call the airline, pay the fee to get my ticket changed, and get my ass back home. There wasn't anything left to do in Poland, and I wasn't taking Roman with us to Italy.
 |
| Joanna, Kasia, Ben, and Magda |
The plane would be leaving Warsaw at 7am Sunday morning which meant we'd need to be at the airport at about 5am to get checked in. The drive from Kalwaria to Warsaw was around 5 hours, which meant that we'd need to leave Ba Ba and Dza Dza's at about 11pm Saturday and drive through the night.
We didn't really get any sleep that Saturday either. Joanna's friends that she had met and worked with on her first trip to America just happened to be in from Australia and had come by for a visit. I got to meet them for the first time. Ben was really interesting, and he spoke great English. He told me all about Australia and some stories about surfing and his trip to Thailand and learning Thai boxing. Very cool, indeed.
I ended up just staying awake and watching World Cup soccer with Joanna's dad. Just before 11pm, we loaded up the van, said our goodbyes, and fastened our groggy son into his car seat.
 |
| Roman at the Warsaw airport |
Something that we had noticed in Poland that was certainly different from Kentucky was the amount of daylight there. It didn't get totally dark there until around 9pm, and it seemed like the sun began to come up around 3am. Well, we confirmed this belief on the road that night. By 4am, we could see easily without headlights. Interesting...
We rolled into Warsaw around 4:30am and hit a McDonald's drive-thru before we had to get on the plane. It was a 24-hour joint; but, apparently they didn't serve breakfast until 6am so we had some burgers. (Just as well with me, 'cause I don't like breakfast food anyway...)
 |
| Roman's view from the bus |
The flight was only two hours. When we landed in Olba, Sardinia we made our way to baggage claims and then to the bus that would be transporting us to our resort. A resident speaking in Polish began to explain the itinerary once everyone had found their seats. Our resort would be the second stop which was fantastic considering that at our last two excursions (to Crete and to Egypt) we had been the last bus occupants remaining when we finally arrived at our destinations.
 |
| The road from Olba to La Conia |
When we finally arrived at the resort, I was anxious to be in our room. Roman's tantrum had intensified, justifying my insistence that he not join us. The receptionist explained that the time was only 11:00am and that the room wouldn't be ready until 2pm. We were welcome to leave our luggage by the desk and walk around. We could also eat the buffet which opened for lunch at 12:30pm. I was frustrated.
Let me explain something about myself. I get cranky when I'm hungry or tired. And, if I'm hungry and tired, I'm beyond reason. You see, if I'm hungry, I can eat. Problem solved. If I'm tired, I can sleep. Problem solved. But, if I'm hungry and tired, then I'm too hungry to fall asleep; and, I'm too tired to get something to eat. It's a perpetual cycle with no pleasant solution. And, that morning, I was very hungry and very tired. And, to make matters worse, Roman's tantrum was growing to epic proportions.
The lady at the desk, growing aware of the volatile situation, offered to get us a room at 12:30pm. "We care about the children here at La Conia," she said with a snooty air, in her snooty suit, with her snooty glasses. She gave Roman a penguin stuffed animal that was the mascot of this particular chain of resorts, here, shut up little boy. I was hoping Roman would mistake it for his favorite cartoon penguin: Pingu. He didn't.
As we waited, I tried to pass the time on my smart phone, which is when I found out that the WIFI that was promised by the website wasn't free and was only available in the lobby. Fucking crooks. Now, I wasn't going to be able to write like I had wanted to. It was one of the reasons we a chosen this resort.
 |
| the "beach" |
The room was rather typical. It had a cooler, a king-sized bed, and a small, side bed/couch from where Roman could ruin my vacation. A balcony overlooked a small playground; and, in the distance, we could see the Tyrrhenian Sea. I just needed to close my eyes for a minute. I wanted to eat, but I just needed to rest my eyes for a bit...
I awoke at 2:00pm. The lunch buffet was over, and I was oh-so-hungry. I grabbed my shoes and ran downstairs to see if anything was left. I walked through and found cold chicken and some lunch meat that I was too afraid to touch. While I had slept, Joanna had fed Roman and packed some of the swimming gear. She said she was taking Roman to the beach. I decided to join them.
On the back side of the resort, the main artery that ran through the village paved between the beach and the mainland. A narrow track of sand was what the brochure had called a beach. The view was beautiful, but the beach was hardly existent. We walked a ways down the street, hoping to find a better location to swim.
Along the walk, an inviting restaurant had its windows propped open to allow the sea breeze to caress its occupants. The food smelled amazing, and I was hungry.
 |
| The best pasta I've ever had |
"Joanna, baby... please take him to the beach. My head is pounding; I'm hungry. Let me eat quickly, and I'll come down there and swap places with you," I pleaded. Thank the heavens, she agreed to the deal. She took Roman's hand and led him to the beach.
When my waiter came, I ordered some type of seafood pasta and a carafe of white wine. Some fresh bread was brought as an appetizer.
 |
| Roman with his penguin |
I had never eaten (and still haven't) pasta as good as that was. I could have eaten the linguine with nothing on it. It had this ever-so-slight saltiness to it, a faint aftertaste. The mussels were unlike any I had ever had. I like mussels ok, I guess; but, these were so soft. They weren't chewy at all, nor the clams. I destroyed the plate of food, paid the tab, and went to find Joanna to trade out.
At the beach, Joanna and Roman were both in the water. I had been wearing my swimming trunks; so, I decided to get in myself. As soon as my foot touched the water, I realized that it was cold It was fucking cold. I hate cold water. It was still swim-able; hell, many people were. But, it would take some getting used to. I slowly migrated to where Roman and Joanna were splashing and playing. Those fucking Polish were impervious to cold. How did they do it?
I swam for a while after I had finally adjusted to the water temperature. The weather itself was quite nice, and I wondered if the resort's pool might be warmer. So, I offered to take Roman to the pool there while Joanna had some "chill" time.
 |
| The pool below our room |
Joanna showed after a span of time, and the sun was beginning to fall. We decided to go for a walk around the resort. Near the back, a stage was lit up, and some performers were gathering to put on a show. Several children were gathered to watch the act where someone dressed like the resort's trademark penguin was dancing alongside several young girls. Joanna and I ordered a beer, sat, and let Roman enjoy the show.
 |
| The resort's night life |
(to be continued...)
-- Please "like" Parenting with Lightsabers here if you haven't already
-- Read about our adventures in Poland with features like "Flying to Poland".
-- Or continue reading about our Italian vacation in "Sardinia Day 2 - A Serendipitous Encounter".
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