Sulmona Pictures

Sometimes, in a fancy restaurant, they’ll serve you a little something in between courses to cleanse the palette. Sometimes, in a fancy Web log, they’ll serve you a little something in between posts to cleanse the palette.

I just remembered that I have some swell pictures for you from Sulmona. Perhaps I should have included them in the original posts. Perhaps not. Perhaps we should all be thankful for what we have.

Here’s a little view of a small part of Piazza Garibaldi. Note the Roman aqueduct.

Further aqueduct glory

The Piazza Garibaldi, and the mountains.

A couple.

Blue: Sulmona, part IV

Whoa! Thought I had posted this a long time ago, but it was in my ‘drafts’ folder. Let me just finish this up and get it out there for you. Sorry about that.

All right, everyone. We’re now near the end of this tale. I don’t know if this is going to be the last part, or if I can stretch it out for another post, or what. In any event, though, this is exciting stuff, here.

When last we saw our hero, he had secured the assistance of about half of Old Sulmona in his quest for Vico Mozzo, and had at last found a set of directions that showed great promise. We now find him and his invaluable (albeit disappointingly named) guide, Mike, sauntering boldly the pavement (all right, cobblestones) — focussed, determined. His only enemy? That destroyer, Time. The 20h10 departure, inarguable and unforgiving, looms, determining his gait and infiltrating his thoughts.

I dig this photo thing

It’s just so much easier to put up a couple of photos, y ya. Nada más.

What do we have today? A nice selection from Valencia, plus a bonus photo of an extraordinary stack of pancakes that I made. You’ll enjoy all of it, I’m sure.

You must understand that this is a beach. People swim here, you see. It’s still 33 degrees Centigrade here, you see.

I designed these buildings last year. Nice to see my work come to fruition.

A boardwalk in October.

More of my architectural genius. This photo shall also serve as an introduction to my dude Obi.

It’s hard for me to even look at this photo. Pancakes are such beautiful things. Heartbreaking.

A sad audience

So, listen. I know I’ve been derelict in my duties. The public cries for more. I regret that I cannot satisfy the colossal wishes of an anxious populace. However, know that I have been exceedingly busy of late, and it is only because of a surfeit of obligations that I have not been more consistent in my publications and detailed in my descriptions. And todavía hay más; tomorrow is going to be another busy day. Know that Thursday should bring a slight rest from the whirlwind life that has engulfed me these past few days. Know that on Thursday I do solemnly swear to drop mad knowledge about my eminently gangster lifestyle.

Know that the current cheese count is at 16 different types. And that’s after I had to throw out the requesón, on which had grown a bit too much mold for my comfort. I went into Poncelet (I know I’ve been lax in my Web logging because I have yet to mention Poncelet, the magnificent quesería which I have visited thrice in the past eight days.) today and bought two cheeses without even trying them first, because I was in a big old hurry. It’s called an addiction. A full cheese rundown is to come — patience, friends. I also have more pictures to share with all of you! You know what, here are a couple now, as a quick token of my appreciation.

The one with the pots is from the place we stopped on the way to Valencia

The one with the little guy is from Valencia itself.

I guess I should put up some pictures

One of the most important parts of any good navel-gazing travel Web log (there should be commas after “good,” “navel-gazing,” and/or “travel,” no? You could even argue that “Web” is modifying the noun (“log”). But you’d be wrong. In any event, I don’t like putting in those commas, so I shall not do.) is posting photos from the journey. I’ve been lax in my recent posting because of a trip to Valencia. To make up for my failings, here are a few pictures from my first month in Spain. Also, I’m listening to Odessey and Oracle right now. Get used to more mundane details, as they’re going to be a fixture of future posts.

A brownie that I made

This one’s a photo of a bunch of IES kids walking toward the castle we stopped at for desayuno on the way to Valencia. It’s called “The Loathsome Horde.”

A building

This could also be called a building, I suppose

Bad news

Turns out the ice cream I bought the other day is not very good at all. This is a crushing blow to my spirits. I don’t know how much longer I can resist spending the equivalent of $10 on a half-liter of Häagen-Dazs. The other bad news is that the avocados weren’t 1,49 euro per kg, but rather 1,49 euro per bag of four. Not too bad, but not quite as good a deal as I thought, especially since they were, as I mentioned, pretty small.

On the Danish-cookies front, I finished my tin and am now seriously regretting not having bought another one the other day. This is the last time my room shall be without Danish butter cookies. Of this I am certain. I’m also running low on Nutella, but that situation is not yet urgent. Fortunately, I am in possession of a 500g emergency supply of 74% cacao dark chocolate. This is called a security blanket.

La comida se hace la cena

So I got back from class at around 3:30 today, but I didn’t start making dinner until almost six, because I was doing lots of cool stuff, like reading about restaurants and looking up pecan pie recipes. What you’re wondering now, of course, is What the heck did you make for dinner?

Glad you asked. I’m going to go ahead and give you my original recipe, just because I feel sporting this evening, and I don’t want to do my homework.

Blue: Sulmona, part III

I do believe I implied in my last Sulmona post that the story would be presented in three segments, à la Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights. Well, that’s no longer the plan. I’m going to draw this one out just as long as I can.

At the conclusion of the previous chapter, our hero found himself in a most disheartening position: only an hour to go, and an older gentleman who at first appeared to be a potentially excellent guide has been stumped by the mysterious Vico Mozzo. Let us know see what becomes of this man, and what becomes of our hero.

Blue: Sulmona, part II

I think I’ve given my legions of readers ample time to digest the monumental first part of the Sulmona Tale. Some have compared it to Tolkien’s Fellowship of the Ring. Others, perhaps more accurately, to Dante’s Inferno. Still others have taken, in a bit of a stretch, to calling it the most promising first part of a trilogy since Ali-Frazier I (The Fight of the Century). Either way, I hope you’re all ready for the next installment. Because it’s here.

More information you require

Check it out! The first foodnetwork.com recipe I’ve found that’s rated “difficult” — I’ll probably try it eventually, except I don’t have an ice cream maker, so I’ll have to buy that. Good news is that I found not-too-expensive ice cream today! And not-too-expensive avocados! 2.27 euro/Liter and 1.49 euro/kg, respectively. Bad news is I didn’t buy either, because I was too busy buying cheese. And I don’t know if either is any good. There’s nothing noticably off about them (well, the avocados are a bit small). Going back out tomorrow. We’ll see.

Uh, just read that paragraph, and I meant I’ll have to buy the ice cream, not an ice cream maker. I don’t think I was very clear about that.

Also, found a supermarket where Danish butter cookies are only 2.09 euros for a 500g tin. I’m thinking I might want some variety in my next cookie purchase, though. Actually, I’m going to make some chocolate cookies soon, now that I found some kind of fake vanilla extract that’s not even the normal imitation stuff. Nowhere has the real deal.. It’s tragic. I’d make my own, but it takes six months. Made the pizza dough today, but then I went grocery shopping and I just got back and I don’t feel like making a pizza now. I’ll probably just eat cheese and chocolate until I cry. Then go to the discoteca, only to stare mournfully at the bright lights until the metro opens back up, at which point I’ll walk home anyway because I won’t want to spend the one euro for a ticket. Then I’ll make the pizza for breakfast and eat it in my bed, finally falling asleep at around eight a.m. with the lights on and Joni Mitchell’s Blue whispering on repeat from my pathetic laptop speakers. Then I’ll wake up and do it all over again.

Also, I found a place that had croissants that looked good, so I tried one. The taste was not too bad — lots of butter — but the flakiness was so minimal I cried. It was hard for me to take.