"courage, dear heart": Assisi and the Expo: A Tale of Two Tourist Traps

Garden gnomes-Pious scarecrows for the devout gardener. That was my (pathetic?) point of reference for St. Francis.

I guess I thought I had little in common with this Italian "Steve Irwin". Like, I prefer my foul on a plate. Not perched on my arm.

Now, some might presume a weekend in Assisi would make me a Franciscan expert. These people obviously don't travel with kids.

For my tiny entourage, ancient basilicas bedazzled with frescoes are just another church with great echo-acoustics.

They translate "Silenzio!" as "Please wail louder for a snack!"

Antique confessional? Ideal hiding spot.

Altar candles? Begging to be blown out.

Francis' tomb? A reclining bench for a mid-tour breather.

I wish I was joking. But I am not.

If "reverence" had an antonym, it would be "Colson."

En route to Assisi, we enjoyed a winery tour at a local agriturismo, Cantine Blasi. Wine tastings are always the perfect pit-stop when driving over ~~three hours~~ 15 minutes with my children. I recommend it.

But, truly, Assisi is magical. Terraced streets weave steeply northern, teeming with tempting trattorias and whimsical boutiques. Perfect.

Toss in San Francesco's chapel, tomb, and recovered chamber pot and you basically have the Mecca of Roman Orthodoxy. (Just kidding about the chamber pot.)

Constructed like an imposing fortress, Assisi captures Old World charm with first world conveniences. Like gelaterias. Since a spoonful of gelato makes Unesco World Heritage sites go down. Just ask my kids.

Though Hotel Subasio offered accommodations better suited for anorexic elves, we did enjoy the generous breakfast buffet that boasted everything from buttery croissants (Hurray!) to curling, cured meats (Bleh). Because who doesn't wake craving room-temperature salami? Apparently, all of Italy.

Finally, we concluded our travels at the Milano Expo (World Fair). Which was fitting since it felt like the whole world was there. An intimate group of 250,000 Italians congested the international array of pavilions.

It was as relaxing as it sounds.

Success in sustainable food-sourcing was the trending theme. Basically, a global celebration of *CSA. (Community Supported Agriculture)

First off, I don't even know how Rwanda received an invite to the party. Tell me I am not the only one who thought this.

Iran maintains that they convert uranium to sustainable food sources. And not to make nuclear bombs. Definitely not. No bombs to see there.

Sudan utilizes ethnic cleansing to reduce the demands upon their food reserves. Sad. Very sad.

Evidently, Nepal relies upon their exhibit centerpiece, Buddha for its sustainable development. So, obviously, a fail-proof plan.

Mexico's cantina offered the authentic experience of inflation and pay-offs- charging $50 for just two kids meals. Just two. We were fleeced. In Mexico.

Meanwhile, the USA pavilion was like a nightclub with DJ Barry Obama spinning global warming rhetoric.

Then there was France which bragged they were the best. At everything. Casting America as the fat, Beezlebub of nutrition. To such arrogance I have but one word: Normandy. You're welcome, Frenchies.

Finally, the best exhibit by far was Germany- visceral, educative and engaging. But was anyone really surprised? No.

There were over 120 countries represented. The wait for Japan's pavilion was six hours. There might be three things for which I would wait in line for six hours.

None of them are Japan.

Still. It was THE world's fair. In Milano.

And though the cost of admission could have fed a Kenyan orphanage for a month, I am glad we went.

And got the recyclable shopping tote to prove it.