Today I miss this:

View from the Capitoline

Maybe it’s because my older brother just moved to Sicily, but this morning I woke up to the curtains fluttering in the wind and the distant sound of scooters and what I imagined were church bells, and I’ve had Rome on my mind ever since. I suppose five years anywhere is enough to make a lasting impression, but The Eternal City seems to be eternally tugging at my heartstrings.

Oh Roma, quando ci rivedremo di nuovo?

]]> http://steinbeckforlovers.wordpress.com/2011/04/20/hmmmmm/feed/ 3 Manami capitoline view 1 http://steinbeckforlovers.wordpress.com/2011/03/23/an-icon-has-passed/ http://steinbeckforlovers.wordpress.com/2011/03/23/an-icon-has-passed/#comments Wed, 23 Mar 2011 10:31:50 +0000 Manami http://steinbeckforlovers.wordpress.com/?p=1217 ]]>

Taylor sunning herself on the set of “Giant” –Image by Sid Avery

At some point in my life I arrived at the conclusion that quite simply, Elizabeth Taylor is a goddess.

It’s easy to recognize her charm when you see her look so effortlessly stunning in films like Giant and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, but my favorite Taylor role of all time is her turn as the frumpy, hard-drinking wife in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Her character is crude and maybe even crazy, but to me Taylor has never been more appealing than in that film.

They just don’t sparkle like they used to, now do they?

Please (do it!) visit The Selvedge Yard for more incredible photos of Taylor (oh God, and James Dean!) on the set of George Stevens’ epic film.

Sidenote: The Selvedge Yard is Justin’s favorite blog. He found it following a link detailing how much Andre the Giant could drink on one day—something like 60 beers—and was pleased to find that TSY could somehow intuit the inner workings of his mind and everything he finds cool: cafe racers, beer, surf photography, Shinya Kimura, Steve McQueen, marvelous mustaches. Anyone who features both Jean-Paul Belmondo and Bryan Ferry in their “Style Hall of Fame” is A-list in my book. And I now so badly want a “Sons of Lee Marvin” T-shirt!

How could I ever leave this behind?

Today, the sun is spilling over us. I’m happy that no trouble beset my little islands, saddened by the devastation in Japan, but thankful that no harm came to my loved ones. While the sun sets, Justin is out surfing at Diamond Head. We thank the water. It’s a bittersweet feeling.

Jauntsetter is website geared towards (but not limited to) travel-savvy New York women. The featured trip picks, last-minute travel deals, and food/book/handy gadget recommendations are enough to make anyone with a touch of wanderlust begin scheming up their next adventure.

Most inspirational of all is browsing the archive of past JOWs, an amazing group of women that I am honored to become a part of. Here you will find the favorite travel memories of women like the lovely Kasey, who nominated me for the interview, and Dorothy, who created the site.

Be sure to sign up for the newsletter and check in regularly to the site’s blog. There are frequent giveaways, like 5 nights at a Tuscan Vineyard. Now, how did I miss out on this?

Watching and waiting

A few days before, we heard that a monster swell was on its way to Oahu’s North Shore. A rumor began spreading that the conditions might be perfect for The Eddie to go off, and by Wednesday night surf forecasts predicted that the swell would peak the next morning. By 4am Justin and I had packed up the bike and were headed north to Waimea Bay. We hit rain in Mililani, but the sky was clear by the time we crested over the pineapple fields and could see out to the ocean.

There was a dying full moon glittering over the water and everything felt like magic.

The Eddie is one of big wave surfing’s premier competitions. It is also one of the most irregular, in that Waimea’s wave heights have to register over 20 ft Hawaiian scale in order to hold the contest (Hawaiians measure by the open-ocean swell, so 20 ft waves read as wave faces greater than 30 ft).

In the last 26 years, it has only been completed seven times.

The contest is held in memory of Eddie Aikau, North Shore big wave surfer. The story of Aikau is the stuff of legends, full of fire and sadness. He loved the ocean and he loved to surf, and he loved the big waves most of all.  It’s said that the difference between Aikau and other big wave surfers was his absence of fear. He could charge waves that would leave others weak in the knees, and all with a smile on his face.

In 1971 he nominated himself (and became) Waimea’s first official lifeguard, rescuing countless lives during his reign over the Bay. In 1978 he joined the crew of the Hokule’a, a traditional Hawaiian sailing vessel set to navigate the ancient Polynesian route to Tahiti using only the stars as its guide. It left Oahu on March 16 and was only at sea for five hours when the craft encountered rough swells south of Molokai and capsized. The crew clung to the hull of the ship for hours before Aikau decided to take the surf board he had with him and paddle to the nearest land. Those that knew him best said that once he set his mind to something, no one could talk him out of it.  “Don’t worry, I can do it,” he told his shipmates before he set off.

The Hokule’a was later spotted and rescued by the Coast Guard, but despite the largest land/air/sea search launched in Hawaii’s history, Eddie Aikau was never found. He was only 31.

There is a wonderful article on Aikau by Nick Carroll here on Surfline.

“Eddie would go” is a popular saying on the islands. Those three little words somehow encapsulate his stoke and spirit. No one really knows when the phrase was first used, but it became widespread during the first Eddie contest when organizer George Downing couldn’t decide whether or not he should send surfers out into the dangerous conditions. Surfer Mark Foo (who would later lose his life at Mavericks in 1994) looked out over the waves and told him, “Eddie would go.” And so it went.

Our Eddie unfortunately did not. By daybreak we could see that Waimea was firing in full force, but the sets were too intermittent to hold a contest. By 9am the competition was called off, but we stayed to watch the surfers take the waves nonetheless. They were there to get a taste, even if no one was looking.

Eddie would have.

Sunrise over Waimea Bay

Cheeeeeeehoooo!!

Waimea firing

A town out there . . .

Get ‘em boys!

If I were still living in Rome, tonight I’d be enjoying a nice dinner out with my girlfriends. We’d feast and drink and likely end up dancing around restaurant tables with other women of all ages, celebrating our womanness! To be fair, I think that is celebrated every day in Italy.

And I’d bring home yellow mimosa:

Yellow mimosa blossoms by vvo77

Lately I’ve been feeling like a real grown-up. It might be due to the steady increase in my daily responsibilities, my subscription to the New Yorker, or the fact that the cost of my face cream rises exponentially as I age. And then there’s this kaftan I bought not long ago. It’s a tapa print, hand-dyed, one-of-a-kind robe that I got from the local designer I work for, and I feel ridiculously wonderful and womanly every time I slip into it.

I even bought a plant.

Sometimes I still let things slide. I’ll procrastinate, then feel guilty, then slip into a vicious shame spiral of further guilt and procrastination. The New Yorkers pile up, unsavored. I’ll go to bed too lazy for my nightly performance with the lotions and potions, or commit the cardinal sin and forget to take off all my make-up. And then, there’s the kaftan. I wear it around the house all the time and yet I have to take it off in order to do anything. The sleeves are loose and long and frequently threaten to dangle into things. I can’t cook, clean, eat, or go to the bathroom in it. It is one of the most beautiful things I own, and also the most impractical. I suppose it’s called loungewear for a reason, but that’s really all I ever get to do in it. And who has time for that?

I know that Women’s Day is meant to celebrate all of womankind’s economical, political, and social achievements, but I’d like to raise my glass tonight to all the individual ones we make on a daily basis as well. Trying to be a real grown-up is hard! Be self-congratulatory every day over the little things!

Buona Festa!!

I Was Thinking by Gauntlet Hair

Justin (with his annoying athletic prowess that makes him good at everything he tries) is already shredding waves like he’s been at it for years.

I, however, look about as natural in the water as a cat at bath time.

We live here now.

So here’s the deal:

I’ve been neglecting this poor blog. I’m still writing everyday, but just not here I’m afraid!

I’d like to write about our present lives while I continue to post photos and events from our 2009 motorcycle trip (with their original dates). Please check back occasionally in 2009′s archives to make sure you aren’t missing out on any “new” old material!

By the way, have I mentioned how much I’m loving Hawai’i?

Nookie’s is located within the Old Town Triangle of Lincoln Park, which was quickly becoming my favorite neighborhood. It’s one of the wealthiest communities in Chicago, but definitely one of the most charming. Around every corner is a bookstore or boutique or cozy café waiting to be discovered. I loved walking the little streets, coveting the ivy-fronted buildings that residents called home.

Nookie’s is a little cafeteria-style eatery, and though the garish fluorescent lights hindered my ability to take a flattering photograph of our meal, it was delicious. We had a giant frittata and best of all, french toast encrusted in crunchy cornflakes. It’s something we’ve never had before, but we’ve been making our french toast that way ever since.

After breakfast was a little more city exploring.

Root vegetables at the Lincoln Park Farmer’s Market:

Nearby was the children’s petting zoo. The piglet butt on the top is my favorite:

Right next door is the Lincoln Park Zoo, one of the nation’s oldest zoos, and the only free one:

And then on to downtown. Chicago is well-known for its architecture, and rightfully so. The Chrysler might be my favorite skyscraper, but if I had to choose between Chicago’s skyline or New York’s, it would be a close call: