checking in from Hanoi

Hello!  And wow, it occurs to me I should know some basic Vietnamese words of phrases for while I am here.  Hello, thank you, maybe more.  Bad of me.

Anyway, we got in to our room by around 12:30 or so last night, did moderate unpacking, slept very very well.  Not a long sleep, but a good one.  Breakfast at the hotel,

and then it was on a walk that Richie, who picked us up at the airport, recommended:  over to and around Hoàn Kiếm Lake.  

Traffic on the road around the lake would be blocked off, and there would be plenty of people out walking.  So we joined them, sweating along, taking many photos on the way there around the lake, and nearby.  

Eventually we veered off into the Old Quarter and sat outside a cafe by the cathedral, sipping hot coffee (yes, hot) and having a light lunch.

We’re back at the room now to cool off and dry out a little.  Dinner plans in several hours.  I have no doubt a nap will ensue.

But wow, there is sure to be so much to come from here!

la prima colazione

I think I have that translation right (thank you, Google Translate!).  La prima colazione, or breakfast.  Our hotel in Bologna was the only one of the three (well, also leaving aside Rome, which was one night at an airport hotel) that didn't offer breakfast.  And that was fine!  Because each morning we could emerge from the hotel courtyard into the protico and head east.  Before we made it to the next corner, there was Caffè Letterario - Sebastiano Caridi.  Ah, what a delightful convenience and a convenient delight!

We never really got the hang of ordering the coffees we wanted in Italy.  Conrad made the mistake on the first morning in Ischia of asking for a latte, not realizing that he would get only milk.  Shorthand doesn't work!  I always managed to get my decaf, happily.  But we realized that we wanted something with two shots, and sometimes that came with a lot of milk and sometimes not.  At another hotel we came to order it as a macchiato, but even then it wasn't always the same.  By the end, I was asking for cappuccinos, and that was fine.  But the inconsistency from place to place and even at a single place was a little maddening.  It also didn't help that at Caffe Letterario it was never consistent on where and how we ordered - inside, at the counter, with a waiter?  Who knew.  Each morning was an adventure.

What was indisputable was that the caffe knew its food.  Those pastries? 

Conrad eventually started getting one savoury and one sweet, and that was a lot, but also so good.

We were there every morning in Bologna, not even bothering to find another place to try to start our day.  So good.  And, as a bonus, a beautiful church across the street

that we popped into a couple of times to admire.

Breakfast, Italian style, as utterly bastardized by three North Americans - maybe not super traditional but undeniably good!

breakfast in Ischia, Italian style

We'll never fool anyone into thinking that we're Italian at all.  Heck, to hear us bludgeon even the simple "buongiorno" greeting, you'd think that we had something against the country and its language.  Not so, I swear.  We're just tourists.

When Conrad and I visited Italy in 2017, we adopted the practice we observed in Rome of going to a nearby coffee/pastry shop and standing at the counter, enjoying a hot drink and a sweet treat for breakfast.  Where our hotels did not provide breakfast, we enjoyed this habit.  On Ischia, our hotel provided breakfast.  And yet, we were up and walking early enough that one morning we decided to have a pre-breakfast.  We had passed a place a few times on our walks, and it lured us in one day. 

Coffees,

pastries, sitting outside on the sidewalk instead of standing at the bar.  Close enough!

A nice find there were the sfogliatella. 

Italy week on Great British Bake Off first showed me them (oh, the bakers struggled), and then I sampled one at a Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fishes dinner at a local restaurant (underwhelming, sorry to say).  Here was my chance!  Friends, it did not disappoint even remotely.  That flaky, crisp pastry!  So good.

So yes, Conrad

and Van

and I attempted to fit in.  Ha!  But we weren't unhappy when, during our next leg in Bologna, the hotel did not provide breakfast and we were left to fend for ourselves at a nearby cafe.  But we'll save Bologna for another blog entry!

Friday morning

A short post, a simple post, a lovely morning.  I was out the door before seven to walk a few miles, and oh, the morning sky. 

A hint of bad weather, red sky in the morning, but we have no rain in the forecast for days to come, so maybe it's just a beautiful morning sky.

And then a morning of working from home, decaf in hand!  Friday, underway successfully.

Saturday breakfast

You ever get hankerings?  In the mood for some particular food or beverage?  I get that way, for sure.  Fly to Hawaii, and by gosh, I need some Spam.  That sort of thing.

Saturday morning we did a rare thing in the desert and went out to breakfast someplace other than walking to Koffi or to Starbucks.  Equally as often, it seems, we would just have some brewed coffee (well, decaf for me) and a light bite at home as well.  Saturday, however, Van and I wandered up the 111 to The Atrium for breakfast at The Palms Cafe.

Breakfast is a conundrum for me sometimes.  I have come to love eggs as an adult (I was so-so on them as a child), and I seldom make them at home, so I usually want eggs when I go out.  Something savoury for me, some protein.  But I had a hankering for pancakes, too.  The solution?  Grand Slam it, as it were.

I don't usually eat breakfast in this quantity, but I told myself there would be no lunch.  Eggs over easy, bacon, hashbrowns (which are a miracle of potato cookery), and a side of a big pancake.  Perfect.  Van had his coffee,

I had my decaf,

and we started the last full day at the Rancho Mirage house together just right.