Esperia Travels is Born

Several months ago I came up with the idea to start a tour guide company specializing in small group tours through Emilia Romagna. After many months of hard work and research, Esperia Travels is really to be launched. My Mom has agreed to go into business with me. She is handling the office side of the business while I am organising and leading the tours. When I was in the States this summer, we met with a lawyer, signed all of the paperwork and had the company registered in the State of Indiana as a LLC (limited liability corporation).

The CEOs of Esperia Travels

Since my return home, I have working hard to get our internet site together. I want to thank my mom for joining me on this adventure. I owe thanks to my father (Moe) who helped with the editing for the website. I also want to thank my friend, Karen, who planted the seed that grew into Epseria Travels. And a huge thank you to my sweet husband who designed and put together the entire website on his own. It really is amazing as he is a self taught web designer and his work is incredible. Thank you Danilo for your hours and hours of hard work.

Some of you may be wondering what in the heck is Esperia. Esperia is the name that the ancient Greeks gave to Italy, meaning "land of the setting sun". At the time I came up with idea of a tour guide company, my husband was reading an Italian book called "The Marshes of Esperia". It is set in the Delta Po region of Emilia Romagna, one of the very spots our tour will be visiting. He recommended the name and my mom and I both loved it.

At last the website is finished and we are ready for business. If you are interested in taking a tour with me, just drop me a note at info@esperiatravels.com or visit our website at www.esperiatravels.com

click here to view our ad on Slow Travel.

Home Again

Just a little note to let everyone know that I am fine. Thank you for your comments, emails and phone calls. I know that I have been MIA in the blog world, but with good reason. When I was in the States, my Mom and I officially started a business together. Since my return home I have been working like crazy to get everything up and running. In the next few days, our website will be complete and I will make an announcement on my blog.

I also have to admit that I MIGHT also be just a little lazy. I have a ton of emails to respond to and even more posts to write about my trip, but there always seems to be something else to do. I promise this week that I will back in the swing of things and fill you in on whats been going on this past month.

I must say, it was a tearful good bye at the airport, but once back in Italy it felt good to be home.

Thank you all for your concern.

Cyn
The Bad Blogger

Dear America,

You know I will always love you. We have had some wonderful times together and I will cherish those moments forever. Wherever life takes me, you will always be deep inside of my heart. I hate to leave you, but this is the way life has to be. You see, I am in love with someone else.

You could say that it was love at first sight. From the moment I saw her, I knew that I belonged there. I will always love you, but Italy is my home and home is where I must go.

I will treasure the times we have spent together and look forward to making new ones, but for now I must rush back to my true love.

Good bye America....

Imparare dal Vento

This is a beautiful song by one of my favorite Italian bands, Tiromancino. As I listened to it on my Ipod, while in the States, I often found myself daydreaming of Italy and becoming terribly homesick.

Now it is time to return and, once again, I find myself standing with a foot in America and one in Italy while being torn up the middle. I am homesick. I miss my husband, my friends, and furry kids and yet I'm just not ready to say good bye to my loved ones here...

Remembering the Bologna Massacre

August 2, 1980
It was a hot, summer Saturday morning in the city of Bologna. Travelers packed into the air conditioned waiting room of the Centrale train station to find shelter from the heat as they waited for their trains. A suitcase sat in the waiting room with them, unattended and unnoticed. At 10:25am the city was rocked as the suitcase, packed with 20 kilograms of a TNT mixture, detonated. The waiting room was obliterated and when the dust settled, 84 innocent people were dead and an additional 150 were injured.


There has been much debate about who bombed the Bologna train station that hot August morning. Several people are in jail for it, including two Italian secret service men accused of obstructing justice. At the end of the day, many are still unsure of who bombed the station and why: many believe the wrong men are sitting in jail.

Today is the 27th anniversary of the Bologna massacre. The train station has been restored, but the scars of the bombing are still visible. In the waiting room you will find a memorial to those who perished in the terrorist attack. The marble floor is buckled where the suitcase had been sitting, a large plaque hangs above the spot listing the full names and ages of all 84 victims. Several large cracks still remai on the walls where the concrete spilt apart; acrylic fills the space in between. You can also find a small collection of pictures showing what the station looked before and after bombing. Just outside of the station, the original clock hangs, forever stopped at 10:25am.


If you find yourself changing trains in Bologna, I recommend stopping in the waiting room to take a look. It is a touching memorial to those died in the attack.

Tonight on the history channel in Italy there will be a special about the Bologna Massacre to honor and remember those who perished. Be sure to check to out.

Heartbreak in Minnieapolis

Last week my father was in Minneapolis attending a conference at the University of Minnesota. We were all in shock last night as we watched live footage coming from the Twin City showing the bridge tangled and collapsed. I imagined how panicked we would have been had that happened four days earlier while he was there.

photo by Joshua Lott / Reuters

My heart goes out to the people who were on the bridge when buckled under their wheels and to their families. They are all in our thoughts and prayers.

Somewhere Over the Atlantic

Butterflies fluttered in stomach as we neared the airport. The day I had been dreading was finally here: it was time to take the Italian to the airport. Suddenly I found myself wishing that we were making the trip together, that we could board the plane and travel home side by side. But the Italian could only stay in the States for three weeks and I, being greedy when I booked our flights, squeezed one extra week in America with my family.

It had been three years since our last good bye at the Indianapolis airport and yet the memories of those sad moments were still fresh in my mind. Back then I had to wave good bye, never knowing when or if we would ever see each again. I told myself that I was lucky now. This time we would be reunited in just over one week. Still, the sadness crept in. Taking the Italian to the airport marked the end of our vacation together.

As we pulled up to the airport, I spotted an SUV parked at the curb. Standing behind it was a small woman wrapped in the arms a tall, young man. Her head was buried in his chest: a look of deep sorrow on his face. Their story was clear, he was dressed in full army fatigues. Tears filled my eyes as I understood the sacrifice they were making.

I didn't cry as I watched my husband disappear down the concourse. Though I was sad our vacation was over and I hated to see him go, I know that he is returning home safe and sound. Though I wish he could have stayed a little longer, I understand that I am lucky for the time we had. After seeing the solider saying good bye to his loved one, eight days apart from the Italian doesn't seem so bad.