Tide-pooling At Half Moon Bay

We had a nice month in Menlo Park, including several trips and an extended absence, taking grand-daughter Penelope camping up into the Sierras. There were outdoors experiences, museum experiences, dining experiences, and cinema experiences. And other experiences, too. Our first weekend there, after jet lag, we all went to the Fitzgerald Marine Preserve at Half Moon Bay for a morning of tide-pooling. Rebecca had engaged a guide, so it was an even more informative experience.

Us, there

The tide-pooling area, sandwiched in between crumbling cliffs and a seal
habitat

An excited Penelope leads the way

What you come to see...marine life in the low-tide pools, mostly anemone and
starfish and mussels and such

Anemones all over

At age seven, P is fairly fearless and uninhibted

Ick

Breakers off-shore

Looking back toward Moss Beach, a place we have visited many times with P;
Rebecca and Jeremy were married very near here

Star fish

P has found a particularly good anemone

A bit of the land-slide area

Neat place...good preparation for New Zealand, where
Rebecca and Jeremy and Penelope will be spending some
time in early 2019

Seal city

Looking back to the tide-pooling area

A flight of pelicans swoops by

Woods near Moss Beach; Rebecca and Jeremy's wedding pix were from here

Neat place, neat day

Return To Middle California, 2018

We drove back to Rome July 17th and spent the next few days sorting, packing, cleaning, repairing, etc. Such is life when every now and then you change your modus vivendi, modus transportandi, modus whatever, as we do. Le Duc will stay at the Emerald Meadow for some months now, except for a bout of repair with Mr. Edigio, per Alessandro. On July 21st, Norwegian Air shuttled us from Fiumicino back to the States, where daughter Rebecca and grand-daughter Penelope greeted us at OAK. The next day we brought Le Sport back out of hibernation and began setting ourselves up for eight months (!) in the States. Storage is sometimes tough on RVs, and Le Sport's de-hibernation was not without incident, but all ended well. We are back in Middle California, and several posts now will ensue, from Half Moon Bay to The City to Oakland and to old friend Pinecrest, way up in the Sierra Nevada.

Le Duc at his bay at the Emerald Meadow

At Half Moon Bay, me, Jeremy, Penelope, Rebecca, and Vicki

San Marino: #56

For some reason we had begun counting countries visited and estimating how long it might take us to reach 60. And for reasons apparently having to do with this, we decided to stop by the Republic of San Marino on our way from Padua, through Ravenna, and then Rimini, toward Rome. It was on the way. Sort of. (San Marino, not Dan Marino (#13), as some might think). It is another ridiculously small republic, nestled there by Rimini, in northeastern Italy. Only San Marino is on a mountain top, sort of another picturesque hill-top, fortified town. Sort of. I am sure that the history of and reasons for San Marino's independence must be very interesting, most likely tied up with some pope or cardinal or other. Maybe the Guelphs or the Ghibellines. In any case, the place exists, it is a real country, not a shit-hole, as #45 would say (maybe), and definitely counts if you're counting countries. Not as much as Andorra or Vatican City, or even Lichtenstein, I would say, but it definitely counts. And we were there.

Something you don't see every day; nor had we ever seen even after some
years of driving all over Europe: a San Marino license plate

Their current tourist slogan, which I don't get: the place is not so large that
they would be looking for settlers

View from the cable car, looking back toward Rimini and the Adriatic; a hilly
mountainous countryside

Among the founders: a Borghese, wouldn't you know

Helpful map; the chug up-hill to the RV parking was the steepest Le Duc has
so far encountered, including Alps, Pyrenees, Apennines, etc.

Not above tree-line, however

The place is replete with public sculpture and historical markers 

Um, isn't it supposed to be "In and Out"?

Unchanging guard

Today's wedding

Government building; the architect was Rene' Sance

The usual cute alleys

Perhaps Rand Paul could move here?

Wall and tower; never breached; why would anyone attack?

Street scene

So the place has both a Madame Tussaud's and a Museum
of Torture...what more could you ask?

Plus tons of Old World ambiance

And a church that will be just right should the Greco/Roman gods and goddesses
make a come-back

But mostly, San Marino seemed to be about shoppes and shoppes of replica
firearms; one sees these occasionally in tourist towns in Europe; but San
Marino had many

And fragrance shoppes; all totally authentic, of course

And shoppes of figurines, miniatures

And, of course, a Christmas shoppe; although not, I note,
a Kathe Wohlfart

And replica firearms; if San Marino is ever attacked by a
replica army, it will be strongly defended

Downtown

Fortunately, San Marino's RV car-park permits overnight stays, and we stayed
there in the company of the usual international contingent; very well satisfied
with having notched #56 in our walking sticks

World Cup: France 4, Croatia 2

From Udine we drove on past Padua to Terme Abano, at whose sosta we had stayed just before our Balkan adventure. The plan was to stop early, in a known place, a town, where I could watch the World Cup final game, pitting my adopted favorite, Croatia, versus what would have been my favorite team otherwise, France. It was Sunday afternoon and, surprisingly, several of the main bars and sports bars were closed. Closed. Good grief. (Italy did not get into the World Cup this quadrennium--first time in thousands of years you'd think--and many Italians are still in denial). But I found one open, nice enough, with a big screen and a bar-tender who knew how to make a Negroni, all the Italians there rooting for Croatia, and watched nearly the whole game (except for an over-long half-time break for Vicki's spaghetti). Sadly, Croatia lost. I have not watched as many as half a dozen futbol games in my life, but I strongly felt the Croats suffered from a couple of bad calls, early on, and were fighting up-hill all the way. They seemed to me the better team, attacking all the way, never benefiting from the referee's calls. Had Croatia not been in it, I would have been cheering for France, so I didn't feel too bad. And the Croat team did their little nation very proud. Oh, and yes, I am fully aware of the immigrant nature of the French team. More power to them! Vive la France!

[Reserved For Balkans Summary)

Slovenian Out-Takes

[To be added to and commented upon...]