Ritta Hoppner

Let me tell you now about Ritta Hoppner, the hotel in Gramado, Rio Grande do Sul where we stayed during our visit there. 

As you read on, don’t think about a five star hotel, huge building in a metropolis, and hundreds of hotel attendants passing through the corridors. Instead, think about a huge two-storey German-style house set on a rolling hill, nestled among pine trees, right in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. 

Weekend in Gramado

 

After spending three days in Gramado with my family and friends, I felt like I wasn’t ready to go back to Pelotas.  It was a sign of satisfaction, I believe, as  it is easy to fall in love with this part of Serra Gaucha.  I wasn’t really expecting too much before the travel and the weather forecast seemed to tell me I will just be staying inside our hotel room most of the time. 

Gramado is located in the Serra Gaucha region in the state of Rio Grande do Sul and takes about 2-hour bus ride from Porto Alegre, the state’s capital.  It is known for its annual film festival, which showcases South American as well as international films.  Hortensias (hydrangeas) and delicious chocolates await visitors.  Its landscape is remarkable, the climate is cool, and very European.  The earliest settlers there were Portuguese, followed by the Germans and it is very different from the Brazil I have seen so far.  If you’re one of those who think Brazil is about beaches, bikinis, and samba, you’ll be surprised with what awaits you in Gramado.

In just one weekend, we were able to experience all sorts of weather, except snowy.  Most of the time though, the weather was very forgiving, allowing us to explore the outdoors. It’s been a long time since I got awakened by the gentle sound of rain and the crisp rustle of leaves. It was fun to walk on wet concrete sidewalks and misty grass and touring the city and nearby places without having to use car air conditioning.  A little bit of bossa nova the night before we left was just the perfect way to end our vacation.

The food was fantastic, from those served at the Ritta Hoppner Hotel where we stayed to the homestyle buffet in a local restaurant. Ritta Hoppner has a fantastic strudel that everyone should try. Until this moment, I’m still dreaming of having one more bite of this tasty creation with a hot tea.

The Ritta Hoppner Hotel demands another blog post, which I should be able to do very soon.  But let me tell you now that I love the place.  It is more than a hotel; a real haven for vacationers.

The pains of Christmas shopping

Christmas unwraps a bundle of surprises for children but undeniably, it unnecessarily drags them into the pre-Christmas rush, having to hop from one store to another and wait with their parents in long winding queues.

I’m blessed with a child whose patience I will never match. She’s never the kind who would throw tantrums when her bad mood strikes. But how can I blame her if she tells me, “I feel like I want to go home now”, in the middle of a kilometric line of impatient adults, mostly with their kids, too.

While I can get entertained by watching people as they pick gifts and be happy with every inch forward in the line, I just feel sorry for my little girl who, at her tiny height, could only see mostly feet moving about, tired little children under their mom’s skirt, and bigger-than-her shopping bags that can potentially hit her, as she wonders if the monotonous beeps of the cash registers near the desk where she rests and scrubs her back will ever end.

Mom, are you listening?

I’m not the best listener in the world and there was never a time my mind didn’t fly to dreamland even at the most, supposed to be, important and serious of all conversations. While it can be personally gratifying and refreshing, I know that it can also be annoying.

For my daughter, however, my inattentiveness becomes a subject of wonder. While I was in the middle of a book I had (finally!) started to read, she was telling me about a new online word search game and kept asking me to look at how well she was doing.

It was one of the hundred times she would ask me to be her audience but at that particular moment, I was just plainly inattentive.

Dads & daughters

I got amused while eavesdropping on a conversation between a young man and his daughter as the three of us gathered around a heap of red, succulent tomatoes in a frutaria.  The girl, about 9 years old, was holding a small piece of paper, which I supposed was a list made by her mother. 

Eyes glued on the list, she was telling her father that they were to buy three tomatoes. The father frowned in confusion as he absentmindedly picked one tomato after another while asking if that meant three kilos or three pieces.  His daughter said there was only “3 tomates” in the list and guessed that her mother meant three pieces.  But her father laughed and told her that perhaps her mother forgot to put “kilos” in the list. The conversation went on, punctuated by laughters, and then they started to debate, but in a positive and obviously fun way.  

Life 101

When things go wrong and I seem to be at a lost, sometimes I whine and think that life would be so much better if someone would just tell us what to do and in general, how to live and how to be wise – how to make good decisions, how to pray, how to control your emotions, how to deal with misery, how to forgive others, how to pursue your dreams, how to accept criticisms, how to be a good friend, how to trust, how to bring up a child, how to be a good spouse, how to love unselfishly, and so on.

Unfortunately, these are not taught in the classroom and there’s no way one could get a certificate for being “the best mom” or “the wisest man on earth”.

The most important lessons in life are the ones that we learn first hand as we go through the road we chose to take. I imagine it as a very long, tricky labyrinth where you try all possible ways to get to your destination.

Open door or closed window?

 

Did the closed window catch your attention before you even noticed the open door?

I can’t remember how many times in my life I have focused on closed windows and refused to find the open door, at least for some time, before finally walking through it. It happens all the time and to many of us, I think.

This is probably the reason the cliche “when God closes a door, He opens a window” had become so.  For the moment, I don’t mind writing about this cliche, no matter how commonplace it sounds to you and me.  It’s a fact of life, anyway. Don’t you think so?

A breath of Christmas

If there’s something I love about September, it is the fresh, cool breeze that reminds me that Christmas is just around the corner.

Here in Rio Grande do Sul, September breaths the same kind of freshness that I have always enjoyed and I’m glad it does. It feels more like home that way.

In my hometown in the Philippines, this is the time of the year when we could finally look forward to cooler, more comfortable weather, which is going to be so until after the holiday season. This is also the time of the year when Christmas songs start to fill the air.

There is something about September that lightens up my spirit. More than the breeze, it is something sentimental.

How to kill yeast

In my brave attempt to learn the art of breadmaking six years ago, it was killing the yeast that I, sadly and unintentionally, mastered first!

In every batch of bread I made, I always came up with rock-hard breads that would instantly turn off a hungry dog.  I was learning it on my own, trying to treat myself with the thrill of discovery, something I never experienced in my high school science class.  I didn’t even know how a yeast that is proofed and a dough that has properly risen look like. 

A habit of caring

It was a sunny yet cool Saturday morning and people down the street corner was in their usual chores and habits.

The lancherias had just opened and ready to serve their customers. Street sweepers in striking blue uniforms dominated one side of the street. Some were hurriedly sweeping the sidewalks while others were lazily pulling garbage bins across the road.

Two old men, each drinking their chimarrao chat fondly under the sun. A pretty lass whose teeny-weeny outfit highlighted the stud of jewel on her navel walks pass them, dragging her skinny but well-groomed puppy. The two men gave her a second glance before taking another sip of their favorite tea. On the road, cars were going to all directions – meat shops, frutarias, supermercado, and the lojas at the centro.