Happy Father’s Day!

Every holiday the Pennington siblings are faced with a major dilemma- what do you get the man who has everything he wants? 2 awesome son-in-law’s? Checked those off in November and May. A DNA test proving they didn’t switch you at birth? I gave him that for Christmas. So when he asked me to help him make this travel blog, we knew what we’d get him for Father’s Day- we’d obviously hijack his blog!

Below you’ll find traveling stories from the 3 Pennington siblings and the Miller and Nuvy husbands.

Erin

As long as I’ve been alive we’ve been traveling. Dad’s idea of traveling comes with a detailed itinerary that accounts for every minute of travel. We all receive a custom binder with our itinerary, tickets and back up plans in case we get distracted by the sirens’ call to gelato. I was blessed with being the oldest and therefore having the best memory of our childhood travels. I also have missed out on countries because I’m the oldest and being an adult is rough.   This makes it hard to choose my favorite traveling memories, because there are a lot of them. So how do I choose?

Any blog post about traveling with my Dad would be amiss without mentioning one of my favorite trips we took when I was 10. It wasn’t our normal educational, historical, culture filled vacation, but it was a trip that to this day makes me smile whenever I think about it. When I was little my Dad and I loved to ride rollercoasters together. Sara and my Mama get sick just sitting in the car, so it was just our thing.  One summer we road every rollercoaster on the East Coast, from Florida to Maine; sometimes hitting multiple amusement parks in the same day.  We probably didn’t hit EVERY roller coaster, but as a 10-year-old Daddy’s girl who loved roller coasters this was a trip that I will never forget.

The first time you go across the pond is always a culture shock, even in Britain where they all speak English. I was in 2^nd grade when the Penningtons, Grammy and Grandma Pennington went to visit my Aunt Mary’s family stationed in England. First the airline lost all of our luggage. It would take days to get our luggage. This wouldn’t have been a major problem if Americans sized their clothing the same way everyone else in the world did, but we don’t. Somehow my parents bought our size underwear for morbidly obese British people. Grammy, the always prepared girl scout safety pinned all of our underwear to us. So the first several days of pictures from Europe are all in the same outfits with safety pinned underwear. Grandma Pennington was in a wheelchair and the British idea of wheelchair accessible, was questionable at best. Wheelchair accessible in many of the castles meant the largest person on their staff and my Dad carrying a shrieking Grandma Pennington upstairs. She wasn’t a fan of England, where there were no bologna sandwiches and they pureed all the foods she wanted to chew.

The first time we ever went to Paris, the Louvre workers were on strike. I’ve learned since then the French are always on strike or protesting. I’m pretty sure no one ever told them the revolution ended in 1799. I love art!!! So what do you do when your oldest child is obsessed with art, but they won’t open one of the most famous art museums in the world? You wait. We found out one day they were supposed to resolve the strike, so we went. After 3 hours, in the rain it became apparent the strike was continuing, still we waited. Dad finally got me out of that line by offering to bring me back to Paris just to see the Louvre. Which he did. It was incredible, not my favorite art museum in the world or even in Paris, but I will never forget the feeling of awe I experienced when I finally made it to the Louvre. I am the family art historian. Everyone else appreciates art, but if you ask my father who painted something he will tell you in a completely serious tone it was a Ninja Turtle.

Saying 2014 was a tough year for me would be an enormous understatement. Dad planned the “Girls Gone Wild” trip to London, Paris and Spain for my Mama, Aunt Jackie, Aunt Susan and me. We each received our detailed itinerary, except Dad wasn’t there to harass everyone about staying on schedule. That was the trip I realized I had become my father. “There is no time for postcards!” “That bodega has the same postcards and crap as the last 3!” “We don’t have shopping time allocated until 13:00!” “If y’all don’t stop screwing around we won’t have time to see the next museum!”

In 2015, I started dating my husband Kenny. We’d been dating only a couple weeks when I asked my Dad if he could come on our family vacation to Greece. “If he buys his own plane ticket, sure.” So he bought a plane ticket for a trip 5 months later. My Dad has always been very welcoming and loves his kids. Maybe he knew then Kenny and I would get married, maybe he just knew Kenny could drive a stick shift and figured he’d use him as a mule. I am very grateful that Kenny got to experience a Rocco Pollo vacation. When Kenny planned our honeymoon, it involved a Rockie-esqe itinerary. Not only did I become my father, I married him.

Happy Father’s Day Daddo!

Love,
Your almost perfect daughter

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Sara

I don’t know if I could choose just one favorite story of traveling with my father. From waking us up at the crack of dawn and marching us through country after country on his precisely planned rigorous schedules day after day, we have had more stories than you can imagine. Through the years he has taken us to countless museums, on breathtaking hikes, eaten at amazing restaurants, and partaken in wonderful once in a lifetime experiences around 18 foreign countries, and 20 states. Life with Rockie Pennington has been far from boring.

Although my family has traveled throughout Europe, Canada, and the U.S. together, one summer, when I was about 9 or 10 my father thought it would be fun for he and I to hike up the Matterhorn in Switzerland together. One of the longest days of my life consisted of hiking for 12 hours with Rockie Pennington through the Swiss Alps. Now mind

you, my father was a mountain climber at that time, his legs were twice the length of mine, and he notoriously had no patience and couldn’t stand (and still can’t) stand complaining or anyone being a sissy. I, a tom-boy with boundless energy, no sense of fear, a walking stick, and something to prove decided that this would be a great adventure.

And that it was! Surrounded by nature we forged on hour after hour, talking and taking in the serine and scenic beauty the Alps have to offer. Although it was a long and tough day, ending with blisters and exhaustion, I came home with wonderful memories and an “I can do anything I set my mind to” spirit.

People I work with always ask me what was it like to grow up with Rockie as a father? And although my first response is usually to laugh, I know in my heart my siblings and I had a childhood unlike anyone else. My father can definitely be hard on others and expects nothing short of success, but it has pushed the three of us to be the best versions of ourselves we can be. He has filled us with curiosity and drive to explore, and pushes us to work harder and literally go that extra mile or you’ll be left in a foreign city with no way to get home… 

So cheers to your 30th Father’s Day on this earth and here’s to 30 more!

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Ryan

Every other summer for many years my father planned a 2 month long “Mancation” for just the two of us. Even though my Mom and sisters normally crashed it at some point. Our Mancations have taken us across Europe, into Asia and Africa.

 

 

One of the fondest memories I have of my Father’s and my trips is during the first death march into unknown territory. My father said that we were going to a certain monastery in France. Unbeknownst to me it would be a life changing experience. We rolled up to Mont Saint Michel and the site took my breath away. We toured the island and during that time both my father and I were stunned by the sheer majesty of it all. The monks were very gracious and courteous. It was the first time I saw something so amazing and to share than experience with my father was a big point in my life.

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Kenny

 

In the Summer of 2015, I traveled to Greece with the Penningtons.  Erin and I had been dating for about 5 months and I had spent very little time with Rockie over the period.  We met in Athens and flew to the Island of Sanotorini.  We rented a car which was a very boxy Nissan van. It was somehow decided that I was a competent driver and I assumed that role for the remainder of our stay in Santorini.  One afternoon we were out and about, looking for a museum of some sort.  A few quick google images should give you an idea of what the streets might look like.  A narrow European road is an understatement. We found ourselves on a very narrow section of a one way street.  The street dead-ended and made a very hard right turn.  On the corner of this 90 degree turn, going downhill was a car parked directly in the apex of the turn.  Backing up had ceased to be an option so I went for it…We couldn’t make it.  For the next 15 minutes or so, we were stuck.  Backing up was no longer possible because the wall of the buildings obstructed the ability of the front to swing, and there was very little room on the other side, obstructed by the old Honda hatchback parked in the apex.  My feet and hands were frantically working the clutch, brake, hand brake, and steering wheel in unison.  This was a delicate maneuver because allowing the vehicle to roll forward meant hitting a concrete wall, while allowing it toaccelerate too quickly in reverse meant hitting a car.  No room for error.  The smell of burning clutch permeated the air.  Finally…. I made a mistake. The rental car rolled forward too far, and the sound of crunching and scraping plastic rang through my ears as the car came to rest on the concrete wall.  A sense of fear ran through me as I thought I might be flogged within an inch of my life.  And then something amazing happened… Rockie was calm.  We backed the car up and saw that the damage was minimal.  We popped the bumper back into place and wiped some surface scratches.

We decided that a new course of action was necessary.  Checking the stupid little Honda that had caused us so much frustration, we found it unlocked.  Rockie instructed Sara to hop in the driver’s seat and steer the car so we could back it out of the way of our vehicle.  Rockie, Ryan and I began to struggle with all our might, to push this car up the hill back and out of the way so we could complete the turn, but nothing happened.  The vehicle would not move.  We set ourselves and tried again.  Two Greeks witnessing the spectacle saw our struggle and joined in (neither speaking English), but still the stupid little Honda would not give way.  As we struggled a final time with still not more than inch of give, I finally called out “Sara!  Is the clutch in.” Silence…. “What is a clutch?!?!”

Someone else hopped in the driver’s seat and the annoying little Honda that had blocked our way, bruised our egos (and our rental car), and frustrated us beyond belief was gone.

Happy Father’s Day!

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Zack

If I had to pick a favorite moment with Rockie it would be that he married Sara and I. To me that was a cool and special memory. To have my new father-in-law not only give Sara away, but then also to be a part of our ceremony. His officiation was humorous and meaningful.

Even though he didn’t invite me on his summer vacation, I decided to join him for a night anyway. We met for drinks and dinner in Ljubljana, Slovenia, which wound up being a fun and enjoyable night. So enjoyable, that Sara and I decided to skip our morning plans the next day to have breakfast with Rockie and Jeannette.

 

I feel very lucky to have married into such a great family and to have a new father-in-law and mother-in-law as cool as Rockie and Jeannette. Im excited for our first Father’s Day together Pops!