Reconnecting As a Couple

by Cheryl Koevoet

My husband and I finally took that 'couples-only' trip to Florence and Tuscany that we had always dreamed about. After 15 years of marriage and twelve years of concentrating on our four children, we both came to the realization that we desperately needed to get away -- just the two of us.

As a proud, stay-at-home-mom, the past five years have been filled with Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts, MOPS, soccer practice, judo practice, swimming lessons, and taking care of our autistic four-year-old and his seven year old brother who has A.D.H.D. Add in two pre-teens, three cats and a rabbit, and I would say my plate is definitely over-full.

My husband and I haven't been on a real date in years. We didn't plan it this way, it just sort of happened. Sadly, I had come to the conclusion that I have a higher chance of getting struck by lightning that finding a sitter willing to watch our four, high-energy kids for three and-a-half hours while my husband and I enjoy an overpriced dinner and see a B film.

Nevertheless, at the end of April, I finally did it - - I booked our trip to Tuscany. I spent countless hours online reading reviews and searching for the most romantic places I could find such as San Gimignano, Florence, Pisa, Portofino, Portovenere. I spent even more time making arrangements for the kids insuring that they all had places to stay; creating daily schedules, clearing our calendars and pushing back appointments. It was a lot of work, but I was willing to do it if it meant just one week of hassle-free meals and the complete absence of whining voices.

Finally the day arrived and we flew out of Amsterdam in search of beauty, perfection, and romance. Two hours later as we began our descent the pilot announced that it was currently 'sixty-two degrees and raining in Pisa.' Did he say raining?? That was something I really did not take into account when I booked that spunky little Nissan Micra convertible rental car for the week.

After some mid-level chaos in the rental car line at the airport we went to collect our car. The car that Marco the car rental agent showed us had scratches all over and the paint was peeling off the front bumper in large spots. If there is one thing I have learned by living in Europe all these years, it is how to have thick skin and make some noise when you object to something. And this was Italy, after all.

The old me (before I had kids) would have quietly accepted this tainted car with quiet resignation, but the mommy-me put my foot down and told Marco that the car was unacceptable. We had pre-paid an obscene amount of money for a shiny, new, two-seater convertible, and nobody was going to rob me of a romantic week in Tuscany with the top down. My indignation paid off as he quickly sent Massimo to fetch a brand new Nissan convertible that had not even been used yet. This was more like it.

We left Pisa in our silver convertible and headed north up the coast to our first stop of La Spezia. Two hours later, we had checked into our hotel and were out enjoying the sights and sounds of the seaside port city. I had been looking forward to a delicious Italian meal for weeks so my husband asked the concierge at our hotel for a recommendation.

The rain continued to fall when we finally gave in and purchased umbrellas from the man selling them at a premium on the street. We walked the several blocks to the restaurant to discover that they did not open their doors for dinner until 7:30pm. I had forgotten how late people eat in the southern European countries as my stomach rumbled loudly. We finally caved and bought a couple of gelatis in an attempt to tide us over until dinner. We started walking back to the hotel, when my husband suddenly got very sick (apparently from the gelati.) He said he needed to lie down for awhile so we headed back to the hotel, my stomach still rumbling all the while.

My husband quickly took a shower and collapsed into bed. There I was -- watching an American movie dubbed in Italian in our tiny hotel room while the rain poured down outside. I was reminded of my own personal Murphy's Law while on vacation -- anything that can possibly go wrong, will and does go wrong. At 8:00pm, I just couldn't stand it any longer so I ventured out alone in search of a quick bite to eat. I found a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria just down the street that seemed to be a hit among the locals, so I decided that it must be worth a try. In my best broken Italian, I ordered a plate of antipasto, a pizza quattro formaggio and an acqua frizzante. The meal itself wasn't too bad, but not quite the romantic dinner for two complete with a bottle of Chianti Classico that I had been imagining for quite awhile.

After a good night's rest and my husband recovered from whatever ailed him, we took off even further north up the coast to Portofino. Since my husband is in the yachting business, I knew that visiting the luxury yacht port of Portofino would be a real treat for him. When we got within two kilometers of the village (or so we thought) the police were turning away traffic and telling people that all the parking areas were full. We were able to squish our compact car into a small parking place we spotted, and started walking up the hill towards the village.

We walked and we walked -- it turned out to be much further to the village than we had thought. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally reached the quaint village of Portofino with all it's boats anchored in the harbor. This place is something of an oxymoron -- it remains a quaint, isolated italian village, and yet there are GUCCI and Giorgio Armani boutiques lining the narrow streets just inviting the rich and famous to come in and spend money. And it was actually sunny here for a couple of hours!

After we left Portofino, we made the long drive east through the mountains towards Florence. We had decided to follow a good friend's advice and make our approach from the south side of the city, over the Piazza Michaelangelo. After parking the car and climbing the steps, we reached the highest point on the hill and turned around to see the beautiful jewel of Florence with it's red terracotta roofs laid out below us extending to the foot of the blue, distant mountains. Now this was the romantic Italy we had been expecting!

Over the next several days, we saw the sights in and around Florence; visiting museums, churches, and all the while it continued to rain on and off again. My husband and I had traveled extensively before we had children, so it seemed almost like we had been transported back 15 years in the past. Since I had minored in Art History in college, the highlight of the trip for me was seeing Michaelangelo's David up close and personal. My husband and I discussed everything about the art, culture, and architecture of beautiful Florence and actually left our children out of the conversation most of the time. We had a nice, long, and enjoyable lunch which was the first time in recent memory that we weren't forced to leave a restaurant out of pure frustration due to a child's bad behaviour.

After Florence, the next stop on our trip was Figline Valdarno where we stayed in a romantic, renovated 16th century summer house/villa turned luxury resort. It was perched high atop the Tuscan hills and had a wide panorama view far to the valley down below. I had mentioned when reserving our room that we would be celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary, and the hotel management did not disappoint! We had a spectacular room with two balconies opening up onto our own private Tuscan terrace. Words could not describe how soothing this place with its beautiful surroundings was to a frazzled mother of four!

After two nights and three days in this utopia of tranquility, we continued to the south west through the Chianti wine region where the dark green rows of the famed Chianti vineyards rise and descend over the slopes of the steep hills. Tall, thin juniper trees lined roadways and dotted the hills. This was truly one of the most beautiful places God ever created on earth. I only had one moment of regret while the rain continued to fall dashing my hopes of a bright, clear blue sky reminiscent of the movie Under The Tuscan Sun.

Between rain showers we were able to at least get some enjoyment out of having the top down; stopping every five minutes each time we went over a rise and were treated with a bigger and even better view of the mixed green and gold landscape. We wandered on the meandering roads seeking off-the-beaten-path views and villages. Next stop on our quest for romantic places: San Gimignano.

As we approached the very old village of San Gimignano, again we were suddenly aware that we weren't the only tourists in the area, and that parking spots were at a premium. Since I had developed callouses on my feet in Florence as a result of my utter stupidity by breaking in a new pair of sandals on the trip, my husband gallantly offered to let me out at the top of the hill before he went to go park it at the bottom and walk back up.

While my husband went to climb the hill to see the bell towers of San Gimignano, I exercised my right as a woman and went shopping in the quaint little stores lining the narrow main street through the town. I finally found the sugar bowl and creamer in traditional Tuscan pottery that I had been searching for, so I brought my treasures to the cashier. He was a 60-something little old man, perched on a bar stool behind the counter with a cigarette clinging to his lip and his bi-focal glasses down at the very tip of his nose. He didn't speak a word of English, but that didn't matter because he didn't have much to say anyway.

Halfway through this process of wrapping up my steadily growing pile of purchases, we both jumped as we heard the loudest sound I had ever heard -- ZZZ-COW!!!!!!! For a split second, the entire store seemed to move and the pottery clattered a bit before settling again. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that a bolt of lightening had hit the top of one of the famous San Gimingano bell towers no more than one hundred yards above the place I stood. The man behind the counter was visibly stricken, which was not too reassuring to me as it led me to believe that this kind of thing doesn't happen very often here.

As I gathered my purchases I turned towards the door and saw to my dismay that it was hailing; and not just regular hail, but hailstones the size of mothballs! I was already late in meeting my husband back at the city gate, so I would just have to brave the elements and make a run for it. The hail turned into rain -- and lots of it! Of course I didn't have the umbrella that I had purchased back in La Spezia (again, Murphy's law). I glanced down the hill and saw that my husband had wisely gone to get the car when he saw the dark skies, and coincidentally, he had also seen the bolt of lightning strike above where I had been. This had been an unforgettable day in Tuscany I thought as we drove away towards our last hotel where we would stay before we were to fly home the next day.

The next morning we headed out towards the airport. Except on that day, the skies were clear, blue, and sunny as can always be expected on the day that one returns home from a vacation. As we went through the procedures of returning the rental car and checking in for our flight that would transport us back into the real world, I realized that I had been given an amazing gift. I had experienced a beauty so real and so pure that in spite of the small challenges of the trip, I had come home relaxed, refreshed, and re-energized to once again take on the daily chores of my life.

But more importantly, I realized that my husband and I are constantly bonding and connecting all the time through the small things that happen in every day life. Getting caught in a thunderstorm, taking in that beautiful landscape in awe together; yes, even by one of us getting sick on vacation. We will always have those special memories of our time together in Tuscany, but from now on, I plan to also seize the little moments in life that ultimately, define who we are. Life will never be perfect, neither will it be free of challenges (as I learned on vacation.) Tuscany has not seen the last of me, I shall return. I just hope it doesn't take another 15 years and that the next time it won't be raining. Ciao!

Cheryl is a former MOPS mom and is currently serving in MOPS Field Leadership as the European Council Coordinator for Central Europe.

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