The Liebster Award!

January 1, 2019February 10, 2022 Niche Travel Design3 Comments

Niche Travel Design has been nominated for The Liebster Award!

I was nominated by A World in Reach for this peer award. For a somewhat new blogger like me, this is a special treat. It’s always a great feeling to be recognized by your peers. Thank you, Sydney and A World in Reach.

What is the Liebster Award?

The Liebster Award is a peer to peer award, given to bloggers, by bloggers as a way to foster collaboration and support. What a nice idea.

I noticed a message board in my German friend’s house that said “liebe und respekt.” I asked what liebe or liebster meant. She told me it means dearest or kindest. Thus, bloggers being dear and kind to one another. This is an award I can get behind. I am always seeking advice from others and I am happy to promote the idea of collaboration. I strongly believe in the theory that what you give comes back to you.

The Rules of Engagement

Once you’re nominated with the Liebster Award, you have to follow a few rules to celebrate your win and spread the award throughout the blogging community.

1. Thank the person who nominated you, and put a link to their blog on your blog.

2. Display the award on your blog.

3. Write a small post about what makes you passionate about blog posting.

4. Provide 10 random facts about yourself.

5. Answer the questions from your nominator and provide a fresh set of questions for those you nominate.

6. Nominate 5 – 10 blogs that you feel would enjoy blogging about this award.

7. List these rules in your post.

How I Began My Blogging Journey

I began blogging when I first moved from California to Parma, Italy in 2011.

When my daughter was a toddler she frequently made up words that sounded similar to the adult versions. She would say strawbellies instead of strawberries; froggy instead of foggy. One of the words she transposed was Parmesan. In her toddler mind, Parmesan cheese was Purple John cheese. For years our family asked each other to pass the Purple John cheese at the dinner table.

Imagine our surprise when we realized that we were moving to Parma, Italy – the birthplace of Purple John cheese. Apparently, the universe has a sense of humor. It seemed like serendipity. What we did not know is that an international move is difficult. Life in another country is difficult. It is not all adventure. I had 2 very sad children who did not want to move and leave the comfort of their home.

[dropshadowbox align=”none” effect=”lifted-both” width=”auto” height=”” background_color=”#ffffff” border_width=”1″ border_color=”#dddddd” ]Read about the reality of an international move here.[/dropshadowbox]

All that being said, life in Italy was often quite funny because things were soooo different than what we were used to. Thus, my original blog, Purple John, began by me just telling friends about the difficulties and the funny stories that we encountered along the way.

[dropshadowbox align=”none” effect=”lifted-both” width=”auto” height=”” background_color=”#ffffff” border_width=”1″ border_color=”#dddddd” ]Read funny stories about life in Italy in the drop-down menu here. [/dropshadowbox]

And of course, just when we were settled into life in Italy, the universe struck again and we had a second move to Malmö, Sweden. Once we moved and settled into Malmö, I toyed with the idea of reworking my past experience as a travel consultant and incorporating the blog as part of the business. The kids were older and they did not need me as much as they did in Italy. This last year I began my existing blog Niche Travel Design using my name and domain name from the travel business that I ran in the USA. So now my travel business has a blog attached to it.

My blog still occasionally includes funny ex-pat tales of excitement and woe, but now I am more focused on the business of travel. The funny thing, though . . . that little toddler that inspired my first blog name, she now works with me on the business.

At Niche Travel Design, our philosophy is that designing the perfect vacation is as much an art form as designing a home’s interior or a garden’s landscape. We curate a unique experience for each of our clients.

We are experts in finding the best cup of coffee, the most interesting art gallery, the best place to sip Prosecco while watching the sunset, and the best accessories to make your adventure more comfortable.

The perfect cappuccino

Aperol Spritz – the classic summer cocktail

Niche Travel Design is more than a travel blog. We are a community featuring stories of life abroad, cultural experiences, recipes, ideas, and tips for creating unique memories to last a lifetime. We also recommend products and services.

10 Random Things About Me

I once sort of crashed a funeral. My friend was supposed to go and I was staying with her so I went too because it was celebrity filled. In the end, I felt like a heel and a looky-loo. People (even celebrities) were grieving. I don’t recommend it. Not my best moment.
I always top off my gasoline, despite the warnings.
I love Gene Kelly movies and I got to meet him once and had a conversation with him about his more obscure movies. It was amazing and he was so kind.
I am secretly a Carpenters fan. I guess it is not a secret anymore.
I sing all the time in public even though I really shouldn’t.
I once got into a car accident on the way home from a car accident and neither one was my fault. I know you don’t believe me, but it is true.
Apparently, according to my family, I say Google incorrectly? Who knew?
I hate, I mean really hate, The Pillsbury Doughboy. His voice makes my skin crawl.
I once stayed at a “pensione” in Barcelona that was actually the host’s children’s room. He was clearing toys out of their bedroom. It was weird, but it was late and there was a train strike so I paid to sleep in a stranger’s kid’s bed.
I generally don’t like chick flicks despite being a chick. I seem to be missing a gene or something.

A World In Reach’s Questions For Me

What is the most important lesson you’ve learned during your travels? That once one strips away all the cultural differences, we are all the same. We all just want safety, family, friends, love, and respect in our lives.

What’s your favorite part of traveling? Exploring and learning about a place. Finding off the beaten path things to do. I am a researcher and enjoy the discovery of new things to do, a great local restaurant, a specialty shop, an unusual experience in a typical tourist spot. Least favorite? The getting there bit. The airports, etc. Ugh.

Do you collect any souvenirs from your travels? I used to collect art from each place but now I have too much. I had to stop. No more room to hang anything. We have also always collected ornaments for our Christmas tree. It is nice to remember our trips as we put up each ornament every year. Now I collect photographs and memories.

What is the most unique experience you’ve had with a local while traveling? Swimming with horses in Croatia. Just incredible.

[dropshadowbox align=”none” effect=”lifted-both” width=”auto” height=”” background_color=”#ffffff” border_width=”1″ border_color=”#dddddd” ]Read more about swimming with horses here. [/dropshadowbox]

If you could travel with one person you’ve never traveled with before, who would it be? Barack Obama. He is intelligent, funny, has done some cool stuff and met a bunch of interesting people. I’ll bet he has good stories. Plus, he gets V.I.P. treatment and if we were traveling together I’d get V.I.P. treatment too.

How did you come up with your blog name? It was the name of my travel business in the USA. I focus on niche, unique, unusual travel experiences. I curate and design your trip for you.

What tip would you give to a new blogger? Learn all the technical stuff before you begin.

Is there a book or a movie that has inspired your wanderlust? No. My wanderlust was developed as a child. Actually, I feel like it has always been there.

What are the top 3 things on your bucket list? Africa – all of it! Australia/New Zealand and Asia.

What is your biggest travel regret? I had a chance to go to Africa for a summer. I didn’t go because it wasn’t practical. I should have gone.

My Nominations for The Liebster Award

I have really enjoyed the Liebster Award process. I also enjoyed reading about each of these bloggers that I am nominating. I hope that you each take the time to read up on what they have to offer.

1. Divine Kabwe at beingyourselfblog.wordpress.com

2. Diana Danciu at ourblindlife.com

3. Jenny Toney Bhatia of travelingpartyof4.com

4. Temeka Flack Green of worklifemommyhood.com

5. Heather Eyre of thefemalefactor.me

6. Jamie Joseph of wearefreeindeed.wordpress.com

7. Samantha Norman of SammiNormanFit.com

8. Louise Emerson of 12books.co.uk

9. Mallory Herrera of mamaonparade.com

10. Megan Henderson of thehendersonhouse.org

Questions For My Nominees

Since I have a travel blog, my questions are all about travel.

Where would you go if money and time were not issues?
What is the best advice you would give to new travelers?
What is the one accessory that you cannot travel without – your phone and/or computer don’t count?
Where is one place you would return over and over again? And why?
Where is one place you’ve been but never want to return to? And why?
What is the funniest travel mishap you’ve had?
What is the scariest travel experience you’ve had?
What is your favorite travel souvenir?
What is your favorite local cuisine?
What is your next destination?

Looking forward to reading my nominees’ answers and getting to know them better.

And once again, a BIG THANK YOU to A World In Reach for my nomination!

Everyone, please be sure to check out Sydney’s blog for ideas on budget travel. A World In Reach can provide you with all sorts of ideas on traveling on a budget.

Americans abroad · Bologna Italy · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · Firenze Italia · Florence Italy · international travel · Italy · Parma Italy · Travel

La Bella Figura

March 20, 2016March 20, 2016 Niche Travel DesignLeave a comment

“The Creator made Italy from designs by Michaelangelo.”
Mark Twain

This is the quintessential Italian woman. Elegant, stylish, understated and fare la bella figura.

“Fare la bella figura” literally means “to make a beautiful figure.” The phrase refers to the Italian ideal of looking your best at all times. For this casual Californian this ideal may be the biggest challenge that I’ve faced living in Italy.

Northern Italy is the home of Milano, the seat of fashion houses and world famous designers. People are stylish here. Then, among Italians, Parma is known to be a very fashion conscious community.

The first week of school, I was jet lagged and coming down off of an emotional roller coaster of a year. I was unaccustomed to humidity and was sopping wet every time I stepped outside. Because of the humidity I was also carrying around water, which I stated earlier is a big no-no. So there I am the first day of school in Italy, bedraggled, exhausted and definitely not stylish. I hardly felt the need to dress up for the ten minute walk to school when I was just going home to unpack dirty, dusty boxes. I was feeling good about myself because I had put on some makeup and my fancy Taryn Rose flip flops.

I arrived at school, looked at all the Italian mothers and thought “uh oh.” Not only were they thin and beautiful, they all looked very stylish in an understated, elegant way. Northern Italian women don’t wear a lot of makeup. They don simple, but high quality and finely tailored clothes. They wear dresses, skirts and lots and lots of stilettos. And boots – year round. And scarves – year round. I stood on the sidewalk, hair in a ponytail in casual, (almost exercise) clothes. Needless to say, I stood out like a sore thumb.

I had a conversation with my friend Diana who is English about the Italian women’s seemingly effortless style. Diana noted that if you went to the supermarket in England dressed like an Italian woman does, everyone would think, “what is she trying to prove?” I thought about how people would react if you showed up at Safeway in stilettos, a dress, a scarf – Diana was right. Americans too would think you were putting on airs. The only reason you would wear high heels to the supermarket in America was if you were on your way to or from work or an event. In Italy, however, it a common occurrence.

From my American (and casual Californian) perspective, it seems like a lot of work to get dressed up just to run to the supermarket, go to the gym or walk the kids to school. But dress up they do. I was no longer in California and if I didn’t want to stand out I was going to have to make some changes. Wearing exercise clothes on the street is just not done here and flip flops (my shoe of choice in California) are reserved for the pool or the health club. If I continued my disregard for la bella figura, I may offend someone or at the very least confuse them. My American friend Sarah told me that once she went out in her “tuta” or her exercise suit with no makeup. She ran into her landlady who promptly contacted Sarah’s Italian in-laws to inquire if Sarah was feeling ill since she had been out of the house looking so casual. In Italy, being ill is the only excuse for failing fare la bella figura.

The first week here I sat back and observed. I saw one woman ride up to school on her bicycle in a tight pencil skirt, gorgeous blouse and stilettos. There was a light summer rain. She rode her bicycle while holding an umbrella, one child on the back of her bike and another in the front. She arrived, floated off of her bike, got the kids out of their seats, grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and glided into school. Not a hair out of place. I watched – mouth agape. She couldn’t be a real mother of two small children. She looked like a super model. I looked around for a film crew. This had to be fake.

I soon came to accept that not only are Italian women stylish, they don’t seem to be affected by weather. Italian women’s hair is never out of place. The weather reeks havoc on my style regularly. In the summer the humidity leaves my body and head wet and it renders my hair a wet, frizzy, wonky mess. In the spring, the pollen makes my eyes water and my nose run constantly leaving me looking like W.C. Fields. The wet winter rain and fog makes my eyes water resulting in black raccoon eyes from runny mascara. And again, my hair becomes a frizzy wonky mess. Why don’t Italian women suffer as I do? Is it genetics? How do they do it?

Fare la bella figura is not limited to young women either. I have seen many an old women dottering along, holding on to her companion for support in stilettos! Stilettos! They can barely walk anymore, but damn it if they aren’t going to look good. I can no longer navigate a flat surface in high heels, let alone the cobblestones. The older women also love their hats, fur coats, scarves and handbags. I particularly like to watch the older ladies during the Christmas season as Italians dress up to do their Christmas shopping. At the beginning of December, the older Italian women put on their finest attire as they stroll around the main piazza and shopping streets showing off their coats, hats and handbags It is a far different atmosphere than the images you see of people clawing and fighting over items at WalMart. This is slow deliberate shopping experience. Another difference between Italy and the USA, no one in Italy is afraid of PETA.. Fur and leather abound, particularly among the older crowd. Fur hats, fur coats, fur trimmed scarves, fur lined leather gloves, fur lined leather boots, leather pants and leather skirts are commonplace.

The Italian women are not alone in pursuing la bella figura. Italian men spend an equal amount of time on their appearance. Italian men’s clothes are often tailored. It is unusual to see baggy clothes on men here. Italian men also wear sweaters quite a bit. Not just pullover sweaters, but cardigans. And they like to roll up the cuffs of their pants, jeans, shorts. Italian men also wear scarves as often as women do and they pay a lot of attention to their shoes. They also carry bags made of beautiful leather – or what we would call a man purse, a murse. Older men frequently wear suits, bow ties, fedoras and a scarf. They dress this way all the time – just to go to the post office or the vegetable market. And where the Italian women tend to be understated, Italian men have a flare for bold style. They are not afraid to wear colors and patterns. Lord knows they love a brightly colored pant.

I have observed the Parmigiani women for almost three years now. I still don’t fully understand how they pull it off. They make being stylish and elegant look effortless and easy. I will never understand how they navigate cobblestones in stilettos. After 2.5 years it still seems like a lot of work just to run your errands, but it is part of the Italian culture. And it is expected. And now I have come to appreciate it. The attention to style makes one feel a bit better when you are out and about. And it makes for great people watching.

The Italian author Beppe Severgnini summed it up best. “Being Italian is a full-time job. We never forget who we are, and we have fun confusing anyone who is looking on.”

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Below are some photos of Italian stye. These are not my photos. I got these off of the internet, but I assure you that I have seen some version of each of these outfits on a regular basis.

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Americans abroad · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · Firenze Italia · Florence Italy · international travel · Italian food · Italy · Parma Italy · Travel

Guidos

March 19, 2016March 19, 2016 Niche Travel DesignLeave a comment

In the USA, a Guido is a slang (some would say pejorative) word for an Italian American. In Italy, however, Guido is a boy’s name or when used as a verb it literally means “I drive.”

We had been in Italy for a week when my husband had a work conference in Florence. Would the kids and I like to come along? School had not started yet. We could not move into our apartment yet and it was Florence, so Hell yeah! The only hitch, Joe would be taking a bus with the other employees so I would have to drive the hour and half on my own with the kids or take the train. Since I spoke no Italian I figured driving would be easier than trying to buy train tickets, figure out schedules, etc.

Besides, I had been driving around Parma and back and forth to the local Ikea (pronounced hilariously to my children as ‘eee’ kay- yuh‘) with no problems. Plus, we had a GPS in the car. How hard could it be? It is only 1.5 hours away. Driving to Florence was no problem!

Armed with the overconfidence that comes with 30 years of driving, we set out. On the ride down I became acquainted with the Italian driver. For a large portion of the autostrada (highway) between Parma and Florence, there are only two lanes. One lane is perpetually occupied by semi trucks. Semi trucks which travel at a very high speed and get right up your bum. Thus, the only option if you don’t want to be a semi sandwich is to go around them in the other lane. This is an option equivalent to playing Russian Roulette.

The cars travel at speeds far faster than the semi trucks. They also drift across the entire autostrada paying no attention whatsoever to lane lines. At first I thought they must be drunk they way they were swerving, but it was happening so often that I realized it was just the way they drive here.

Now, I am a responsible driver with my two precious kids in the car so I am going to drive responsibly. Apparently, driving responsibility is a personal affront to Italian drivers. My driving habits bring on a host of activity from the Italians – honking, fist shaking, lights flashing, swerving to see if they can squeeze their car between me and the semi in the next lane. At one point the driver behind me was so close to me that when I looked in my rear view mirror I could see the part in her hair. I can still remember the pink hair clip she was wearing.

So after an hour and a half of pure white knuckle driving we arrived in Florence. Finally, I was going to park the car and relax. Ha! It took us 1.5 hours to get to Florence and another 2.5 to find the hotel.

The GPS kept trying to send me down one way streets or streets that were blocked off. I was driving in circles and now the autostrada seemed like the bumper cars at the fair. Imagine the same speed, drifting and erratic driving but now on ancient narrow streets with people and scooters added to the mix. And no where at all to stop or park. The streets that I needed to get to the hotel were either blocked or too narrow for a car to fit.

After 1.5 hours of trying to find the hotel on my own, I was in the middle of a full blown, all out, screaming at the kids, nervous breakdown. I pulled over as best I could and simply stopped. I called Joe. He sweetly tried to help and offer suggestions over the phone from the bus. He called the hotel for me. I cried and screamed at him. He didn’t understand how awful it was.

Through my tears I noticed a crowd of police men and women directing traffic. Surely they could help me. I eased over and once again decided to block traffic like an Italian native. The police woman thankfully spoke English. She asked me where I was from. I explained that we had just moved to Italy a week ago and that we were joining my husband for a work trip. She told me that tourists should never drive in Florence. My husband’s work should have told us that. The hotel should have told us that. She explained that it is difficult for the locals to drive in Florence because the streets change almost on a weekly basis according to politics. That explained why the GPS was having such a hard time. She asked where my husband was. I told her he was on the bus with his office mates. “Hum.” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Allora” she tells me, “you must drive over that bridge there. Once you are across the bridge you go straight and your hotel is very close. Another right turn and there you will find it.”

“I can’t go across the bridge. It is one way traffic going the opposite direction. And the street is blocked with a chain,” I respond.

“Ignore the traffic. It is the fastest way and I will have my colleague meet you at the chain, He will unlock it and you can drive through,” she tells me.

“Huh?!” I am stricken with terror at the thought but I am also so close to having a permanent breakdown that I decide it is worth it.

I grip the steering wheel and proceed to drive against traffic across the Ponte Santa Trinita. Everyone, justifiably this time, is once again honking, screaming, shaking fists at me, but damn it, we made it across. We pulled up to the chained street. We waited for 30 minutes. No one came. I negotiated the terrors of Firenze traffic again to wind my way back to the police woman. She instructs me to do the same thing again. I tell her that I already did what she suggested but no one came to meet us at the chain. She tells me I must be patient. I cross the Ponte Santa Trinita again. Against traffic. Against all reason and sanity.

This time, however, I noticed a city bus lumbering along. I thought to myself, “if that bus can fit, then so can I.” I threw caution to the wind. I ignored the chain and decided to follow the bus. It worked! I swear I heard angels sing when I finally found the street that our hotel was located on. We were close. All I had to do was find the piazza to park in as the hotel had instructed me.

I pulled up to what is, to this day, the tiniest piazza that I have ever seen. There were a few of the teeny Smart electric cars parked, but even they were parked all akimbo because space was so tight. I didn’t want to leave the car double parked only to come back and find it towed away. So I stayed with the car, our luggage, a distraught Lena and the passports while Aleksander ran to the hotel and asked what to do.

Aleks returned and said that the hotel advised us to just leave the car double parked until we checked in. That was all I needed to hear. At the front desk I asked where the piazza for parking was that they kept telling me about over the phone.

“It is just there. Where your car is.”

“That is the hotel parking? There is nowhere to park in the piazza.”

“We know. There is never any parking there. Just leave it there with the keys. We will take care of it.”

With pleasure!

Americans abroad · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · Firenze Italia · Florence Italy · international travel · Italian food · Italy · Parma Italy · Travel

Guidos – Driving In Italy

March 19, 2016 Niche Travel DesignLeave a comment

Guidos – Driving In Italy

In the USA, a Guido is a slang (some would say pejorative) word for an Italian American. In Italy, however, Guido is a boy’s name or when used as a verb it literally means “I drive.”

Armed with the overconfidence that comes with 30 years of driving, we set out.

THE ITALIAN DRIVER

On the ride down I became acquainted with the Italian driver.

For a large portion of the autostrada (highway) between Parma and Florence, there are only two lanes. One lane is perpetually occupied by semi trucks. Semi trucks which travel at a very high speed and get right up your bum. Thus, the only option if you don’t want to be a semi sandwich is to go around them in the other lane. This is an option equivalent to playing Russian Roulette.

WHEN IN ROME . . . OR FLORENCE

Through my tears I noticed a crowd of police men and women directing traffic. Surely they could help me. I eased over and once again decided to block traffic like an Italian native. The police woman thankfully spoke English. She asked me where I was from. I explained that we had just moved to Italy a week ago and that we were joining my husband for a work trip. She told me that tourists should never drive in Florence. My husband’s work should have told us that. The hotel should have told us that. She explained that it is difficult for the locals to drive in Florence because the streets change almost on a weekly basis according to politics. That explained why the GPS was having such a hard time. She asked where my husband was. I told her he was on the bus with his office mates. “Hum.” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Allora” she tells me, “you must drive over that bridge there. Once you are across the bridge you go straight and your hotel is very close. Another right turn and there you will find it.”

“I can’t go across the bridge. It is one way traffic going the opposite direction. And the street is blocked with a chain,” I respond.

“Ignore the traffic. It is the fastest way and I will have my colleague meet you at the chain, He will unlock it and you can drive through,” she tells me.

“Huh?!” Did the police woman just instruct me to break the law? I am stricken with terror at the thought, but I am also so close to having a permanent breakdown that I decide it is worth it. Jail would be a welcome relief from Italian drivers.

Aleks returned and said that the hotel advised us to just leave the car double parked until we checked in. What? What was this new world where the rules just do not apply?

But, it was all I needed to hear. We abandoned the car, blocking people in. At the front desk I asked where the piazza for parking was that they kept telling me about over the phone.

“It is just there. Where your car is.”

“That is the hotel parking? There is nowhere to park in the piazza.”

“We know. There is never any parking there. Just leave it there with the keys. We will take care of it.”

With pleasure!

What is the Liebster Award?

My Nominations for The Liebster Award

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Guidos – Driving In Italy

WHEN IN ROME . . . OR FLORENCE

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