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My Second Italian Adventure

On 28th August I went with Mamma and Daddy to Italy for the second time. Once again, we flew with Alitalia after Zia Faby managed to get us some relatively inexpensive plane tickets. A nice taxi driver man from Designed 2 Travel took us to the airport and I think I really charmed him with my big round eyes.

Heathrow was very quiet apart from our departure gate. Hundreds of nasty people were all trying to push their way into a long and chaotic rabble masquerading as a queue. At the head of the queue was a very bored looking check-in lady who was meticulously checking everyones' documents at a snail's pace. While we were waiting Mamma and Daddy were shocked by the rudeness and inconsiderate nature of many of our fellow passengers. I was in my Bushbaby rucksack so I had a wonderful view of all these horrible people. Public enemy number one was a very large sweaty man who shoehorned himself in front of me then encouraged all his friends to do the same. He assumed that because he was speaking Italian that the people around him would not say anything. Big mistake. Mamma and Daddy did, as did lots of other people. In Italian. What a silly man. Then I decided that I had had enough of Big Nasty Sweaty Man so I started to yell very loudly. This did the trick because a kindly, less bored looking check-in man let us through. Mamma quite rightly thinks that we should have been let through straight away because I am a Little Baby and Little Babies like me don't do long queues.

By this point Mamma wanted to go home, but we carried on anyway. Yet again, flying with me proved to a stressful experience, especially now that I am mobile and easily bored. The first leg of our journey between London Heathrow and Milano Malpensa was, erm..., interesting, particularly for the poor man who had to sit near me. He tried to read a newspaper without my permission, but I soon changed his mind. Things were a little less stressful on the second leg because I managed to have a nice big bottle of milky and a sleep. We eventually arrived in Palermo about 11pm where we were met by my Nonnina, plus Zii Faby and Zoltan. Sadly by this point I had had enough of travelling and I started to cry. Daddy thinks it was because I was very tired and I couldn't remember who these friendly people were and why they were so pleased to see me. Nonna soon sorted out that problem by singing Cappocetto Rosso and the Tinky Tonk song to me. Back at Nonna's house, Nonna had prepared a midnight feast of rice salad for everyone. Apparently I was quite taken by Zio Zoltan. I sat happily on his lap banging the table for a good half hour without complaining - a new record!

Some Photos From Italy

			No, that's Italian baby cereal, not ectoplasm!
			Mamma's house has parquet flooring - fantastic for crawling on!
			The bib was a present from Uncle Stephen and Auntie Anne. Note the Swedish Moose theme.
			Mealtimes were never the same again.
			Look! Nonna's helping me to walk!

What We Did On Our Holidays

My parents had big plans for this trip.

See Nonna Again
Nonna was very pleased to see me! Daddy was not sure if I remembered Nonna from Easter, but soon got to know her again and I enjoyed playing with her. Daddy says that Nonna will be staying with my family again from November until January. I can't wait!

See Uncle Stephen and Auntie Anne Again
Uncle Stephen is not a big fan of warm weather. In fact, he deliberately moved to a cold country called Sweden with Auntie Anne so he could avoid bright, hot sunlight. Auntie Anne, who grew up in Sweden, feels rather differently. When she was a little girl her family went on holiday to warm sunny places like Majorca so they could get away from the cold. Auntie Anne was very excited when my parents announced that I was going to be baptised in Italy. Stephen was happy too, but had reservations about the weather. Ironically it rained for the first week we were in Italy so he needn't worried. About two weeks before the christening, Uncle Stephen and Auntie Anne came to the UK to visit. I had fun playing with them and they marvelled at how quickly I had grown since they saw me in May. When they turned up in Italy I was really confused! Daddy thinks this is because I had associated Uncle and Auntie with my house in the UK, not with Nonna's house in Italy. I really like my Uncle and Auntie! My favourite games in Italy were crawling as quickly as possible while someone chased me, emptying a shoebox of Nonna's bank statements and dancing with Auntie Anne.

I Would Get Baptised
This was the primary objective for this trip. I was welcomed into the Catholic church by a funny man in a long robe called Padre Li Calsi at the St Alberto Magno church in Palermo. He did this by rubbing a special oil on me, lighting a candle, pouring water over my head, wrapping me a white shawl and then finally presenting me to the congregation. All of these things - apart from the water - were great fun. Being held high above the congregation in my little pink baptismal dress was a wonderful experience. My parents were so proud of me! Afterwards we had a lovely, albeit late, buffet at Nonna's house.

I now have two godparents (Zii Faby and Zoltan) and a witness to the baptism (Uncle Stephen). These people are responsible for giving me moral guidance as I grow up. And, in Uncle Stephen's case, to make sure that I support Southampton Football Club, instead of, say, Portsmouth Football Club. Zia Faby really likes being my godmother - at the celebration afterwards she sneaked up behind me and growled 'Sono tua Madrina!' ('I am your godmother!') in a rough Sicilian accent. I wasn't quite sure what to make of this.

Mamma and Daddy would like to thank Padre Giuseppe Li Calsi for baptising me, Father Joe of St John Bosco Church in Woodley for helping to arrange the baptism in Italy, Auntie Anne for videoing the service, and most importantly Zia Faby and Nonna for organising the whole event.

			My baptismal dress!
			Parents and godparents. Right - the moment of baptism. Look at Mamma's expression!
			Left - Whee!!! Flying baby! Middle - Zia Faby's sister Giulia Right - Signore and Signora Leone
			Left - Nonna's friend Rita. Middle - Admiring Nonna's necklace Right - Pro-Zia Maria
			Left - Bis-Nonna Middle - Cakey! Right - Yum! I like cake chocolate
			Left - Zia Viviana Middle - Auntie Anne Right - Zio Claudio
			Left - Mamma's friend Chiara Middle - My basket of confetti Right - Confetti (detail)
		And finally... Here is the proof that I have been baptised!

We Would Go To The Seaside
I didn't enjoy my course of swimming lessons very much. By the end of the course, I was so scared that I was crying most of the time and terrified that the nasty teacher lady would tell Daddy to put me underwater again. My first experience of the Sicilian seaside was equally fraught. My Mamma tried to put my feet in the water, but instead I lifted them as far away as possible and yelled at her (see the picture below). The second time was slightly better. Mamma put me in my inflatable seat and, after ten minutes of crying, I realised that bobbing up and down was actually quite a lot of fun. Daddy has a theory about me. I enjoy things where I am in complete control - for example crawling, climbing and playing games. On the other hand I hate it when other people do things to me that I didn't ask them to - like having my nappy changed, being ducked underwater by my Daddy when I least expect it and being put in my cotbed when Mamma or Daddy need to go for a pee. A very good example of this is my reaction to Nonna's baby bath tub. I hated being laid down in the tub (not my idea) but sitting on my haunches in the tub was wonderful (my idea).

			Oh we don't like to be beside the seaside...
			More seaside trauma
			You can almost hear the screaming in these photos.
			At least I enjoyed the relatively safe confines of my pushchair.

We Would Go To A Hotel
The original plan after the baptism was to go to the Saracen hotel for a few days. For the past decade or so, Bis-Nonna Cristina and her sister Pro-Zia Maria had spent a week or two at this hotel enjoying the all-you-can-eat buffet. Unfortunately this year Pro-Zia Maria has not been well enough to go, so instead Nonna treated me, Daddy and Mamma to a week at the hotel with Bis Nonna. Uncle Stephen and Auntie Anne were coming with us too. A couple of days before, Nonna rang up the hotel to confirm the booking and she was told that our rooms were unavailable for the first night. The hotel offered to put us up in a nearby hotel instead, then we could move into our proper rooms afterwards. Nonna was very unhappy with this situation, stating that her mother had been coming to this hotel for many years and it was shameful to treat loyal customers this way. She also pointed out that situation was unsuitable for her nine month old granddaughter (me!) who was unsettled enough in a warm climate, yet alone sleeping in three different rooms in three consecutive nights (quite right!). The hotel was unapologetic and refused to capitulate, so Nonna cancelled the booking. Nonna is planning to write to the local papers complaining about the shoddy service. Daddy suggested that they used a picture of me crying to illustrate how I feel about our treatment.

For the record, the staff at the Saracen hotel near Palermo are a bunch of stinkers and people should not go to their hotel. SO THERE.

My Parents Had Their Birthdays
I'm not the only person who has birthdays you know. Daddy had his thirty -fifth birthday on 6th September and Mamma had her twenty-ninth on the 10th. Daddy had a lovely lemon sponge cake with candles on his birthday. He also had a '3' and a '5' on the cake too, just in case anyone had forgotten just how geriatric he was. Mamma didn't want a birthday cake, just a big brioche with hazelnut ice cream inside. She didn't have candles and big numbers in her ice cream.

More cakey!

Get Some Sleep
This didn't quite work out the way my parents wanted it to. Although Nonna was happy to look after me while Mamma and Daddy had a lie-in, I still woke up many times during the night because of the heat and humidity. The mosquitoes liked me too, so I had a net over my bed. This made my bed even warmer and stopped me seeing Mamma and Daddy properly. This was Not A Good Thing.

Why Mamma and Daddy Will Never Fly With Alitalia Again

All in all, my family enjoyed their time in Italy. Unfortunately, the journey back on 11th September was even more stressful than the journey out. Here is a brief outline of what happened...

• When we were checking in, Mamma got really upset with a group of idiots who pushed in front of us. It seems that people in Palermo don't enjoy the sport of Queueing as much as their counterparts in the UK.
• Palermo's Falcone Borsellino airport has two entrances to the departure lounge. The one on the ground floor is designed for wheelchair users and pushchairs. The one upstairs is for everyone else. The one on the ground floor is relatively calm and peaceful. The one upstairs is usually a rugby scrum since the world, his extended family and half his livestock all want to say goodbye. I was in my baby rucksack. Guess which entrance we were told to use by the jobsworth security guard? Mamma tried to explain that the rucksack was our pushchair because Alitalia had refused to get my real pushchair out of the hold when we were in transit last time we flew. The security guard continued to say no. Mamma exploded, shouting that he was the kind of person that made her want to leave Palermo in the first place. The security guard said that there was nothing he could do - rules were rules - and that Mamma should go and live somewhere else because this was the way things were done in Palermo. Oh dear. At this point, a nearby man had a hissy fit with a member of check-in staff and threw his rucksack in our direction. Oh dear. Mamma and Daddy were not very happy with him at all.
• The airplane was late arriving at Falcone Borsellino so we had to wait around for ages and ages in the departure lounge. By the time it eventually arrived I was fuming and very hungry. You wouldn't like me when I am angry. It's not a pretty sight.
• I was my usual self during the flights. Daddy says that keeping me occupied on his lap during a long flight is like trying to restrain an angry and bored octopus. The cabin staff liked me though.
• When we eventually got to London Heathrow, Daddy discovered that the suitcase containing most of our clothes had been sent on an unexpected detour via Frankfurt. Poor Daddy had to fill in a lost luggage claim form while I yelled loudly at him. Also, Daddy had to take the following day off from work to arrange the delivery of the luggage from a permanently unmanned call centre. On the way home, the nice taxi driver man played me a tape of his daughter singing. I fell asleep almost immediately.

My parents have decided not to try flying again until I am able to entertain myself. They may consider going to Italy for Easter, but Mamma doesn't think this is very likely. Whatever happens, next time we will be flying direct to Palermo and certainly not with Alitalia.

Bouncy, Bouncy

Mamma has been taking me to a wonderful place every Tuesday - a soft play area at the Riverside Centre in Reading. Although I can be a little nervous at first, soon I am climbing over everything and having a fantastic time. Daddy would love to see me playing there, but he has to go to work (boo!).

I've also started Gym Babes - another excuse to crawl over, in and around everything. My parents have realised that these lessons are an excellent opportunity to let me race around and use all my excess energy. My parents are trying to keep it secret from me that I sleep much better when I've worn myself out at Gym Babes or in the soft play area.

If you think I'm a handful now, just wait until I am walking. And that it is a lot sooner than you think!

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