Milan—Oh the Drive

Driving in an Italian city always promises to be a daunting experience to be ventured only by the brave of heart with nerves of steel or by the fool. I seem to be married to such a man.

Using points, not € or $, we were staying in Milan at the Westin Palace on Piazza Repubblica—not in the centro storico but well within the maze of the city, which, of course, includes areas under construction, one-way streets, roundabouts, few streets with seeable names and the dreaded ZTL’s (zona traffico limitato) with cameras snapping license plates and zapping drivers with HUGE fines which eventually show up on the visa/mc/amex bill—don’t be lulled into thinking that having a rental car is a ticket to freedom.

Having had our share of such tickets while living here, we proactively called ahead to ask about these zones. Ken was assured that there would not be a problem as the hotel was outside the ZTL areas. With that, we proceeded with confidence, intending to follow what seemed to be very easy directions provided by the hotel—how could we miss?

At this point, I’m sure you know the rest……suddenly, I cringed as we sailed past the posted ZTL sign with all of its posted restrictions and its clicking camera. We were zapped! Now, I hope that the hotel rescues us or there goes another $125 +/-. My advice is to hire a taxi to lead the way safely to a destination. Maybe we will take that advice and do that next time.

As I think I mentioned in an earlier post, maybe not, we had three reasons for going to Milan—which is most certainly not our favorite city in Italy.

1. Taking Casey to see Da Vinci’s Last Supper
2. Taking Casey to the amazing roof of the Duomo
3. Meeting a long time internet friend from Slow Travel and Expats in Italy, Sylvia, AKA Alice Twain.

Goal #1: As soon as we settled into our very adequate room, we set off for lunch and then walked to the Duomo, passing through the spectacular Galleria with its beautiful glass roof and turn of the century architecture—and €3 gelato. The Galleria then opens onto the Piazza Duomo..

We did a quick tour of the interior of the church—Casey, having been in so many cathedrals, duomos, churches, chapels and monasteries, has ceased to be enthralled unless there are crypts with withered skeletons or truly enrapturing works of art. He did, minimally, appreciate the exquisite stained glass windows which soar high into the upper recesses of this duomo. He likes identifying the Bible stories in them.

There are two ways to get to the roof—for € 5 you can walk up innumerable stairs or for €7 there is the escalator. Can you guess which we did? A clue-- it was a very hot day.

If you have never been to the top of the Milan duomo, think about doing it some day. It is truly fascinating. The carvings, spiries, statues, buttresses, walkways and views are unforgettable—quite unlike anything you may have seen elsewhere. One can only wonder about the vast number of artisans and lives it took to complete such a project. Casey enjoyed it.

Goal #2: Many years ago, Ken and I visited the Last Supper while it was still under restoration. We simply took the metro, walked over to the small room that it is in, paid a few (thousand) lira and were the only people there. We were able to stay as long as we wished. And, although the restoration was not complete, being alone in what had been the monks’ refectory, trying to absorb this painting with a perspective making it seem that a meal is being shared with Jesus and the twelve, was special

This time was quite different. Reservations need to be made months ahead of time or you lose. The fee is expensive by the time you pay the initial cost, the booking cost and the guide cost (not optional.) Each group is allowed 15 minutes exposure. The group passes through a series of hermetically sealed doors, filtering the air, before entering the room. And…there before you is Leonardo di Vinci’s masterpiece; his experiment in non-fresco, painting on dry plaster. The deviation from the technique of painting on wet plaster, alla fresco, was not successful; and so, the painting deteriorated over the centuries. Nonetheless, it is beautiful and exquisitely emotive. Casey was fascinated with its depth perspective which he immediately saw when stepping back further from the wall. He was still talking about it at dinner time.

Goal #3: Meeting Sylvia. What a treat this was—Casey’s favorite part of his time in Milan. He loves her already. I must tell those who know her, Sylvia is greater than her internet personae, which seriously under-represents her. Alice Twain is serious, opinionated, quite knowledgeable and helpful. I am certain that Sylvia is all of these things but she is also funny, fun, entertaining and just plain good company. She had Casey laughing so hard that tears flowed—and still do today as he thinks of her. She tried to teach him a Milanese tongue twister that he is committed to learning.

She introduced us to a small, neighborhood, working peoples’ restaurant. I am certain that it is not a place ever found by tourists. There was a simple price fixed menu with a few choices for each piatti (course.) It was good!

Reluctantly we parted after lunch so that Sylvia could return to work and we moved on to the Sforza castle/fortress.

And this was our day and a half, two nights, in Milan. It took us 30 minutes to find our way to the A1—I am sure that a native does it in no more than 10 minutes. But, we did find it without transversing any ZTL areas, I think. If so, it was a successful exit.

Now, I am writing this pool side at our “home” in Greve as I look out on this scene—taken specifically to elicit envy.

Tomorrow—Croatia which may mean a couple weeks before another blog entry—but do check in from time-to-time.

Thunder and Lightening

Yep, that’s what we have here this Sunday morning at Lake Como. We are looking out steamy windows at grounded tour boats, grey capped mountains and bedraggled sheep and feeling sorry for those in tents at the nearby camp grounds—particularly those who must pack up and leave today in time for tomorrow’s work. It can’t be fun!

Frustrating for me is that we don’t have an internet connection; in fact, it seems that the age of internet dependency hasn’t reached here yet—maybe a blessing?. From what I gather, private connections are rare and there are no internet cafés or hotspots. So, Casey and I write our entries and save them until we can upload at some point. The result? By the time they are posted, we are already on to another place, another experience.

We have discovered that, in spite of the beauty, we are not enamored with the lake region of Italy and probably will not return. If for some reason we do, we would not follow the “slow travel” mode of several days in one location but would move quickly from place to place—seeing specific things and moving on.

Many years ago Ken and I were here and remember Bellagio as totally charming, romantic and quiet. In the intervening years it has, not surprisingly, dissolved into a tourist mecca with a surplus of shops, restaurants, hotels and B and B’s. I wonder if the glitz of the Bellagio in Las Vegas has had anything to do with this. Maybe? Probably? I suspect so.

Interestingly, when we stayed in Bellagio, we ate at a restaurant recommended by our hotel and it was good. Coming this time, I had a recommendation from a fellow traveler which we decided to follow. As we meandered up the attractive outside stairway, we were surprised when we stepped into the same place and it was still good. And, as is true with all of our experiences this year, once it was discovered that Casey is quite fluent in Italian, they were charmed and attention to our needs became a priority.

We are so pleased the way that Casey has continued to become bolder and bolder with his language skill as the weeks have progressed. It’s fun to watch the expression on faces when he starts speaking—first surprise and then big grins and then long, convoluted discussions with him as is so, so Italian. He matches them word for word. He never neglects to inform whomever that his nonni do not speak italiano—just him.

One day we tripped to Lake Lugano and into Switzerland--the highlight for Casey being the visit to the Alprose Chocolate factory which produces candy for many of the famous Swiss labels. He plans to write his blog about that trip so I’ll leave most of the details to him.

On the way back here, as we were meandering the alleys and byways of Gandria, a charming tiny village running directly into the lake,

a mountain storm hit which sent us scurrying back up the hill to our car. By the time we reached it, we were drenched. The drive back through the mountain passes was quite an adventure which Casey has claimed the right to tell—giant hail and all.

Of course, we have eaten well here—where in Italy is that not true? The pleasure for me has been the break from the pasta which I love in favor of delicious lake fish. It is prepared simply and is soooo really good—along with patate fritte or fresh vegetables. Now, soon it will be time for pranzo (lunch)—think it will be pizza and save the fish for dinner. Wish that some of you could join us!

Tomorrow we’re off to Milan and a hotel stay where, for a hefty price, Casey and I can upload and read our mail. I guess that’s good. Casey will be able to share his impression of Da Vinci’s Last Supper—the reason for our willingness to brave the big city. However, at this point, he is telling us he would much rather return to Viticcio and Camilla—not a surprise coming from a 10 year old. If you have time and haven’t already done so, you may want to read about his disastrous double digit birthday day.

Now, off to pranzo in the rain and thunder and lightening—how fun--I really mean that!

And—How Was Gardaland?

Not as bad as I anticipated. Although I will let Casey tell most of the story as it was his day, I do want to share that it was a much more delightful excursion than expected. In fact, I actually had a good time. I think because Casey’s excitement was infectious, it was fun to be a part of it with him.

Gardaland is well done, smaller (thank goodness) than Disneyland and has some good mini-shows, not of the Mickey Mouse/dancing bears variety. And…….importantly, the weather bordered on nice with a breeze much of the time, heat that was bearable and humidity that was at least livable. Between water rides and sitting time in the shows, we survived 11 hours with smiles and good humor. I am amazed to find myself saying that I would do it again.

Today was a day to visit the tourist mecca of Sirmione, an area of land that has held history from the first century BC when Catullus, or someone, built a rather large villa with thermal spas on this Lake Garda peninsula,


through the 13th century when a wealthy Verona family built a castle there and then subsequent years when it was lived in and called home by whomever. Now, with its dramatic castle gateway entrance—a moat sculpted from the waters of the lake, charming alleys and streets similar to those in the Cinque Terre, lovely lake views, upscale shops and uncountable gelateries and restaurants and capped with the villa grounds at the tip of the land, it is a fun day’s excursion or…if one wants to spend the money---it would be a great place to spend a night or two, savoring the romance of what it is when the day-trippers leave. But then, since there are many hotels right outside the castle area and then lots and lots inside, maybe night is no different than day. Since we are not staying there, I can’t tell you.

Entrance to Sirmione--Disneyland? No, Real!

Tomorrow we leave for Lake Como. We are hoping that I made a better choice there in terms of location, plus it is an apartment close to the lake which will give us more room and freedom—maybe a lake breeze to enjoy as we sit outside and relax.

I must say though that Anna and Jacques have been delightful hosts. They are warm, friendly, very helpful, including giving Casey a free pass to Gardaland, and just nice people. We would enjoy becoming better acquainted with them but, the location just hasn’t worked well for us.

With that said, we did find pleasure in being in a small Italian town that was not motivated by the tourist trade. The piazza, which is the gathering place both during the day and at night, is delightful with both a large duomo and a small more ancient church. It is quite amazing that every town and village in Italy historically felt a need for a monumental church while also having several smaller churches surrounding it. Our last night as we joined the residents in the piazza, we were surprised when stepping into the smaller church, we found an evangelical service with people singing the same praise songs as we sing in San Diego. This is very unusual in Italy.

The night that Casey came down with a terrible ear infection, one gentleman spent time with us trying to find the doctor or pharmacist as it was after hours. He took us to several doors in the search. Mara, the waitress where we were eating, was gentle and loving with Casey and was intent on taking us to the hospital. The kindness was genuine and so Italian.

And, we found here the Mozart Gelateria which ranks right up with the best we have found in Italy. Florence should be so lucky as to have a place like this! It doesn’t even come close—at least in the centro storico. Minimally there were 30 flavors ranging from ricotta and fig to licorice to other truly unusual ones. This was a place that had each offering in individual, lidded silver containers—the sign of the truest form of gelato artisan. I think it was even better than our favorite in Castellina in Chianti or the K2 in Parma. Yum! Just thinking about it.

So, as with all things, there is no place or nothing that does not have its own special qualities. Here in Montichiari it is Anna, Jacque, Mara, the gentleman who walked door to door with us, the people of the passiagiata and piazza and the fig/ricotta gelato. Maybe we will come back some day.

Montichiari--Lake Garda

These are late posts as I have been saving until we had a connection--so these are just catching up with us. We are actually at Lake Como now and have a connection for just a few minutes. I will post another to show up in a couple days.

A Presto!

Our little mini-vacation within our vacation has not begun well, sorry to say. We arrived at our B and B in Montichiari which seemed charming, relaxing and garden like when I was perusing its website in detail. Usually the process works and we find ourselves at charming, relaxing and garden like accommodations. However, this time my infallible

radar failed and things are not as I envisioned. We are not in the countryside somewhere between Lake Garda and Verona, rather, we are in middle of a small Italian town which offers little reason for being here unless you call it home. There is a castle on a hill which we hope to visit—but there are reasons I shall go into below which are working to derail that plan.

The place we are staying is, as promised, a 500 year old palazzo which, I am sure, has witnessed many things over the centuries, including its share of intrigue and conspiracy. The family that lives here today is the same family that lived here 500 years ago. As in any place like this it does hold the charm of wondering what was. I am pretty sure our room is where the servants’ quarters would have been.

The irony is that we would really appreciate a charming, relaxing and garden like environment in the countryside or along the lake right now as we are confined to quarters or sitting in the loggia, which fortunately has a slight breeze passing through, somewhat offsetting the heat and humidity of the day. It seems that something Ken and I ate last night is having a winning argument with our innards. This in turn makes it unlikely that we will climb the many steps to the castle and its promise of interest or drive to the lake and see its beauty or venture to Mantova, which would probably be too hot anyway or do anything else that would be fun. We are hopeful that today’s nothingness will prepare us for tomorrow’s trip to Gardaland—a downscale version of Disneyland—for Casey. Truthfully, not a day I look forward to with anticipation except it is an excursion meant for kids like Casey.

Tonight we are supposed to go to a very nice restaurant—in the countryside, at last—to celebrate Casey’s entrance into the world of double digits. He turned 10 yesterday—a day that was not much better than today. Here’s his report on his big day—he had to leave his soulmate, Camilla, to accompany his grandparents elsewhere (tears), he had an earache which became progressively worse until we ended up at the hospital at 9:30 at night (tears) and he forgot Niki, his beloved nighttime/fur worn off, companion down in the car (more tears.)

At this point, a day spent at Gardaland sounds upbeat and inviting. I’ll let you know.

What's Next? An Update

Tomorrow we leave Greve for twelve days going to Lake Garda, Lake Como and Milan. We are staying at what I think will be a very lovely B and B Villa San Pietro close to Lake Garda and then have rented an apartment on Lake Como. Casey has never been to the lake area so it will be new for him. One day I think we will take a run into Switzerland just so he can say he has been in another country--not that a one day jaunt really counts for being there but he will like that. Of course, if I remember correctly Switzerland at the Italian border is pretty much an extension of Italy.

From there we go to Milan just for two nights. We have three things to do there.

1. Take Casey to see Da Vinci's Last Supper as Casey believes he has a connection with Leonardo--along with Michaelangelo and Picasso.
2. Take him to the roof of the duomo as that is quite an amazing experience and place to be
3. Have lunch with friend Sylvia who is sometimes known as Alice.
   

The problem with this traveling is that we will no longer have our internet connection and so blog entries will be less frequent and probably shorter. In fact, that may be true for much of the rest of our time here. In our apartment here, we have an ADSL connection which is really nice. I will miss it.

After our Lake/Milan excursion, we return to Viticcio for two nights, deposit Casey with Camilla's family and Ken and I then head for 17 days in Croatia. It will be the first vacation without grandson in several years. I suspect we will end up missing him and the dimensions he adds to our travel experiences. And I am sure that he will have a difficult time even though he will be 24/7 with his buddy Camilla.

From Croatia we return to Greve for a week, then spend a week with good friends Nico and Elena at Sant' Antonio in Montepulciano. Casey and their daughter Sofia have been friends for many years now. From there we go to Bevagna in Umbria for two nights at the lovely Genius Loci which is owned by another friend, Mary. And then...........home to San Diego.

So that's what's happening with us. Casey and I will keep our blogs going--just not as often. A good way to know when we update so that you don't need to check frequently (or infrequently as the case may be) is to sign up for a feed which tells you when a new post is up. There is a link "Subscribe in a Reader" on the right side bars of our blogs. You can click there and select a means of being notified. Then again, just check-in when the thought strikes.

Home in Greve-in-Chianti

As I write this, I sit beside a sparkling pool, surveying the beautiful, green, vine colored hills of fabled Tuscany. We are home! And nothing has changed. Life transforms slowly here, sometimes taking generations.

Yesterday we were greeted at the Florence airport by friends and a big Snoopy balloon being wildly waved by Camilla as she welcomed Casey’s return. The two children haven’t parted since then—except for the 12 hours Casey slept last night. My fears that they would be shy at first were totally unfounded. As predicted by others, they took up right where they left off—in Italiano--Casey speaking with the musical Toscana accent, considered by many to be the pure language of Italy. Have you even been jealous of a nine (almost ten) year old? It’s a humbling experience!

It is so right to be here and as if we never left. In the past we have gone back to places where we have lived and found that returning was not possible—we were different, the place was different, relationships were different. We were once again strangers, left out of a place where we belonged.

Not so here. As I walked the property in the quiet of late afternoon, the months drifted away and the day became just another day in our life here—the same as the days before. The sense of belonging was complete and unchanged. Signora Franca and Sara hugged tightly and we hugged back—it was so good to see their faces and smiles once again. As we run into the workers here--Mario, Danny, Adrien, Andre, and others--their faces light with recognition. They are as happy to see us as we them. I marvel how a single year can run so deep but it does. Returning to our “real” home last year took weeks before adjustment took hold. Yesterday took seconds and, already, the thought of never wanting to leave permeates our hearts.



Last night we had a simple meal with “the family,” Nicoletta, Alessandro, Signora Franca and Camilla. It was good. In the afternoon, the children swam, roller bladed and laughed a lot, as no time was needed for reacquaintance. Casey was running on adrenalin after the long flight here and so collapsed once his head hit the pillow. Today I haven’t seen him since he ran out the door three minutes after climbing from bed. It is pure joy to see him so happy.

Later today we are going into Greve to see old friends and enjoy lunch at one of our favorite places, the small Enoteca Fuoripiazza. It will be good to see them once more. Tourists sit outside; people who belong sit at the tables in the cool, small inside. We will sit inside.

Tonight we will eat again with our Italian family—a time of good wine, good food, laughter and catching up. And tomorrow?---------it will come.

The Airplane Experience

Traveling is not what it used to be but this trip to Italy was not too shabby. Perhaps because we experienced the new United business class configuration on their international 747’s. Each seat is its own little universe with seats that lay down into full beds long enough to fit six foot Ken. Each person has a private entertainment console with options for movies, audiobooks, games, audio, Berlitz language lessons in multiple languages, TV shows, children’s programs and stuff I forget. All the programming is “on demand” so you can do whatever you want whenever you want. The selection of movies is extensive as are the audio options—you can even program your own playlist with any combination of music and artists you chose.

All of this is nice to relish if you have miles with which to upgrade or can cash in for a full ticket. Paying for it would be an altogether different matter—unless one has money to burn.

We did have one real scare when it looked as if we were parted from all our electronics, including computer, GPS, IPOD speakers, jewelry and all of our data for our two months here. We were on the upper deck of the plane where there is a little cubby hole to store carry-ons. When Ken grabbed ours, it was the last little black case there. Then, as soon as we deplaned, I opened it to get our passes for the flight from Frankfurt to Florence. It was the wrong suitcase!

As would be expected, we panicked. Without going into all the commotion, the highlights are:

After what seemed like a lot of time (which we didn’t have as the connection time to our next flight was brief), UAL/Lufthansa staff found which connecting flight the owners of the bag we now had were headed to. Unbelievably, it was to Florence—the same flight as ours. Coincidentally, the people were from San Diego.

We rushed to the boarding area which had a long, long, long line of people waiting to go through security. We knew that the people with our bag had to have discovered the switch up due to our computer but had no idea if they had already gone through security, were someplace trying to find their bag, what?. We were clueless.

We spoke with a man who was supervising the security line. He let us cut to the front and go right through, but he didn’t have any knowledge of the situation.

We rushed to the gate just as the plane was boarding. Standing at the agents’ desk was a couple being issued passes and a security guard holding the tag from our case. This was the couple who sat in front of us on the plane from San Francisco and who had taken our bag. Ken identified who he was and the security guard took him to a room where our case was being held. The other people were very relieved to get theirs back and so all ended well, including making our connection on time. But for a short while, things did not look all that good.

We view this as a true answer to prayer. Casey, who is a bonafide worrier, was becoming a basket case so I stopped with him and we prayed for God’s help in finding the suitcase. A minute later it all came together. Casey took no time in proudly telling the woman that he had prayed and so that was why it all worked out. He is a true child of faith.

The plane ride from Frankfurt to Florence is a short one and so very quickly we were where we wanted to be—home with friends.

Time for the Important

I've been gone for a while--to a place where blogs, e-mail, Italy and Other Stuff were put aside.

It was time for just Casey.

Next week will be time for all the other stuff.

Ci Vediamo

A Meeting of Friends

Thursday was a special day for us as we went to what on Slow Travel is called a "get-together" or GTG. These are held frequently in venues all over the US and other countries as travelers find they will be in the same place at the same time.

This one was unusually rich as somewhere over 35 people came--travelers, ExPats and Italians. It was held in a lovely villa on the slopes right below Assisi. While many of us already knew each other, others we were meeting in person for the first time. But, as with all our Slow Travel relationships, we had "known" these others for long periods of time via conversations and sharing on the web.

It was incredible fun to get together with so many friends during our last days here in Bella Italia. We were able to say goodbye to many people we had spent time with here and meet new friends from the United States here on vacation. Many of these we will see again as they pass through San Diego or we go their way--and at future GTG's.

Of course, there was lots of good Umbrian food specially catered for the event--porchetta, prosciutto, stuffed vegetables, grilled peppers, pastas etc. etc. etc.--oh so good. Friends from Naples brought a mountain of bufala mozzarella balls. And then there were the desserts--of course, not a calorie in them.

Being Italy, there was a lot of wine but the day was so terribly HOT (+42ºC/+107ºF) that the beverages of choice were water and juice. The pool served as a welcome diversion for Casey and a few of the "bigger" people but since it was in total sun the rays beat down on the water and bounced right back up causing most of us to stay under the sheltering Italian style large umbrellas-- which, by the way, I would really like for our pool area at home. They would be quite nice with our Italian ceramic table being shipped to us sometime in August.

Casey showed a streak of entrepreneurship as he went around offering to fan people while holding out a hat for contributions--clearly he has seen too many street performers this year. Part of me was amused by his industriousness borne out of his desire to buy more Dragonball Z cards while the other part of me worried that he was being too pushy. When we returned to the hotel that night, I was nonplussed by the fact that he had €5.20 in his pocket. It seems a friend who lives here in Italy explained to him the concept of running a tab and so at the end of the night he went back and collected €3. To Valerie--I offer a public apology!

Grazie mille to Corinna and family for opening up your beautiful villa and providing a wonderful time with wonderful food. It was the kind of day and night which make memories. Thanks also to Janet who was staying at the villa and shared it with us and to Pauline, the brains behind Slow Travel and the person who makes all of this happen.

Because this was so close to Assisi, we went over a day early so Casey could visit the St. Francis Basilica with the Giotto and Cimabue frescos and to see the city where St. Francis was born. Casey has been fascinated by St Francis ever since we went to La Verna, the mountain top sanctuary that he loved. Casey's relating of that trip makes a pretty entertaining read-- My Time at Poppi. Among other things he explains why he does not want to become a monk.

His strange for a 9-year-old attachment to Giotto and Cimabue is a gift given to him by his friends at La Cantinetta di Rignana. At the basilica he particularly wanted to see Giotto's fresco of St. Francis "receiving the stigmata", a concept that has puzzled him since seeing another fresco at La Verna.

This was the final outing for our year in Italy and it was a good one--Casey visited a new place for his memory bank and we laughed, played and ate with friends--what a perfect ending!




My apologies to good friends whose pictures I did not get-particularly, dear Judith.

A New Love

Dear Toscana,

I have loved you but perhaps the time has come to move on. Piemonte, maybe I am yours!

We have just returned from three too short days in the hills and countryside of Piemonte--a land where snow covered Alps serve as backdrop to vibrant vineyards and rich green fields, where sun flowers nod and wave at the passerby. It is truly a land of unspoiled beauty--when away from Milano, Genova and the autostrada. We were awed by what we saw.

Unfortunately, my camera battery died dead, really dead--and so I have no pictures of the countryside. However, a quick web search brought up hundreds of beautiful shots--far better than my little camera could capture. Pictures of Piemonte. I want to go back for weeks.

We stayed at the Baur B&B (where I was able to get some photos before the dead camera) created by friends of ours--Diana and Mischa, who left high stakes international corporate existence to settle into the role of innkeepers. Together they have created a beautiful new life that tells of risk taking and following a dream.

The word created is perfect because that is what they have done--created a place of beauty, fantasy and serenity, encapsulating a sense of joy. Diana is a potter and an artist. She has used quietly vibrant colors to turn the walls, inside and out, into art. Splashes of flowers cover century old wooden barn doors. Breakfast (more accurately called a feast) is served on her own pottery designs.

Misha has learned how to use powerful equipment to do such things as cut down 300 trees to open a view that encompasses Liguria and far away mountains. All that happens there is a partnership.

And--there is a third member of the family--Max. Max is the dog you want to take home with you even though he is large. Like his owners, he adds ambience and affection.

One night, a couple from Norway who were also guests prepared a wonderful dinner for all of us. She is a chef and so the meal was quite special--much better than what I can do--trout baked in mountains of salt, roasted vegetables, pesce crudo. We sat outside on the mountain side, drinking in the view; enjoying wonderful food and stimulating conversation. A memorable evening.

Below are a few pictures of the B&B--taken before the dead battery.



Already we know that next summer, when we return for 6 weeks to allow Casey to use his italian, we will return to Piemonte and Diana, Mischa and Max. But, dear Toscana, we will save some time for you.

Tua Amica

Beaches--Italian Style

Written June 28
Maremma—the beautiful coast of Tuscany. We had our own lounge chairs and umbrella in true European style. Vendors patrolled the beach, selling purses, jewelry, towels, fresh coconut and massages. It was picture perfect and just what one seeks when wanting to kick back and let the world roll by. The water is shallow enough that kids can play easily; there are no stones to pierce delicate feet; lifeguards patrol making sure bambini stay within safe territory. Each night the beach is combed and cleaned and so the next morning there is a pristine scene awaiting a new day.

This week we are on the northwest coast of Sicily where small beach and fishing villages scatter themselves along the coast. Here black lava rocks spill into the sea, covering what may have been sandy beaches and leafy trees centuries ago. And—here is where people flock on weekends and when the weather becomes unbearably hot.

They bring umbrellas--finding crevices in the lava in which to secure them, inflatable water toys for the kids, coolers of soft drinks and picnic supplies and then lay towels across the hot, jagged remnants of Mt. Etna and sun bathe. It is in such contrast to the shores of Maremma and yet, the water is just as cool and inviting; kids play in the lapping waves; snack stands thrive and everyone seems content and happy. There is a sense of community as people join together for a day at the shore.

Two different styles of beach life, both providing escape from daily life, chores and worries, both rejuvenating the soul. After a day of sun, play, and fun with friends and family, life seems different and tomorrow has a new color. After all, it isn’t the soft sand that matters but the newness that the sea offers, time spent with the greatest of nature’s phenomena.

Whether on the soothing sands of the Maremma or the sharp stones left by a volcano, pleasure is found in equal measure.

Villa Praiola—The Oasis

Written June 24


Today the usually sparkling Ionian sea hides under a blanket of shimmering, undulating heat. It is hot here on the east coast of mystical Sicily. Even dozing Mt. Etna is hard to see except for her smoking top. And—we sit in an oasis of beauty, with large shade trees cooling us after quick dips in the clear, cool pool. Surrounding us are petunias, bougainvilleas and myriad other flowers of all colors decorating walls and stairways. Birds fly from lemon tree to lemon tree and big fat lizards climb the walls looking for a cool corner.

We are at one of our favorite places—lovely Villa Praiola, perched between the Ionian Sea and Mt. Etna. When we were last here, we watched lava flow down the mountain, but this time we are not so lucky. The fire god is quiet for a while—but maybe domani? From the veranda we look over fields of trees—lemon and palms--all the way to the sea.

Today we went early to Taormina to again wander its charm and enjoy its beauty—with thoughts of buying another piece of unique pottery. I am glad we have been there before so that today we could pick and choose what we wanted to see rather than feeling the need to discover it all.

It was not long before we found an air conditioned trattoria before running back to the cool of the villa. I would have really liked to go on up to charming Castelmola but the pool and fans beckoned. I did find the ceramic piece but will give it a day’s thought before buying; it will need to be hand carried home and, after a year in bella Italia, there are already a few other things in that category—but, surprisingly little, actually.

Yesterday we did nothing—except for a short drive along the coast. When we were here before it was in October and the beach areas were shuttered ghost towns. The scene is quite different in June, particularly on a Sunday when people carrying umbrellas and multitudinous other necessities jaywalking streets to get to the beach side.

Plus we either have forgotten or habits have changed but by all appearances most drivers here have clearly not been to driving school—yesterday there were several hair raising near catastrophes —fortunately not involving us. I will say, today wasn’t bad at all-more like what we recall, a cross between San Francisco and, say, NYC.

Casey is now down at the pool with Lucio, the caretakers’ son—his friend from two years ago. The beauty of children is that friendships pick up where they leave off—particularly true of young boys who share the wonders of such things as Pokeman, Dragonball Z and transformers. I think for Lucio having another boy here for a week is a rare treat. And Casey loves being somewhere that offers a break from gramma and pappa.

Villa Praiola is a special place because of Vera and Francesco, its special owners, who take pride in offering strangers a beautiful place to live for a week—or more. It is decorated with marvelous taste but remains comfortable and enjoyable—totally relaxing.

It was a wonderful serendipity event which found us here in 2004 and now in 2007 the property has only grown better—a/c in all the rooms, an old building in the pool area has been transformed into an open air rec room with cooking facilities; the antique traditional winery below the villa has had lighting added which makes it much easier to absorb. Many such places have been long destroyed and so seeing this one, cobwebs and all, is like stepping into the past—huge, decaying wine vats, crushing screws, stone fermenting basins and more—everything but the contadino.

In 2004, when I was still keeping a travel website (which I may resurrect when this blog is finito), I wrote a lot about Villa Praiola and provided many pictures. If interested—check here. This is a 2007 photo update.

Created with Paul's flickrSLiDR.

Now—I am off to join Casey and Lucio in a swim. And the sea is opening up—the blue shows and glistens like diamonds—the haze has lifted and I see a sailboat. Beautiful!

If you are interested in the villa, their renting agent is Ville in Italia. My experience with them is that they service clients well and are a business which values integrity.

Since I am writing this and whatever follows with no internet connection, it will be several days before entries are posted. So—travel back in time to catch up.

Cinque Terre

Nestled along the coast of the Ligure di Levante Riviera are the villages which have been known since the middle ages as Cinque Terre--The Five Lands. These small, doll house like villages are totally picturesque and lovely and today are the scene of mass tourism. Those that live in the villages still fish the sea and carry on age-old traditions--as well as manning businesses that cater to needs and whims of countless visitors--day in and day out.

Riomaggiore

The largest of the villages is Monterosso--which seems to be cleverly modeled after the Pirates of the Caribbean at Disney Land--or is that vice versa? Really--only one thing comes to mind upon entering the narrow streets with their tall, vibrantly colored, narrow buildings--pirates--this must be where they pillaged and hung-out between forays on the open seas. It is so "piratey."

Lemons in Monterosso

Each of the villages is a little different while being the same. For all of them, except Monterosso which is the largest and most developed, the mystery is "why?" Why are they there? Why were they created in the first place, centuries gone by? They must have been self-sustaining as contact to the "outside" was difficult at best, impossible much of the time. The obvious answer is for fishing--but then, for whom did they fish? Where were the markets? Most certainly people did not drop by to buy the day's catch. Today the idea of totally closed, self-contained groupings of people is most often seen in strange sects and cults, making it difficult for the rest of us in the third millennium to understand places such as the Cinque Terre.

There are three ways to experience these villages--hiking the trail that runs between them, taking the ferry or riding the train. But--for the beauty and uniqueness of the villages to be realized, they must be seen from below as they inch up from the sea to the mountain.


My suggestion is to take the ferry from a starting point in either Levanto or Porto Venere, stay on the ferry the entire way to the last of the villages so that you can have an uninterrupted introduction to them. After that you can backtrack via the trail, the ferry or the train to each of the other four.

It pretty much takes all day to explore these villages--even though they are small. Of course, you will lunch at one of them, have gelato on another, enjoy their ambience as you stroll the lanes, maybe shop for some gifts or souvenirs and then have the timelines of ferry and train schedules. While lunching, you can watch fishing boats being hoisted in the water or ripples lapping the rocks and stones of the beaches.

Good Gelateria in Vernazza
I had cinnamon and banana-kiwi--delicious!

Another thought I had as we enjoyed the day is that it would be fun to spend a night in either Monterosso or Vernazza--to experience these villages at the close of the day when all of the rest of us tourists are gone, would be nice. We stayed in Levanto at a lovely place--Villa Margherita--but, if we go again, one night will be earmarked for a night with the pirates.

If you have never been to Cinque Terre and find the literature to be confusing as to how you visit the villages, know that it is very easy to do. It is not any more strenuous than visiting hill towns of Tuscany--less so than for many of them. It is not necessary to hike if that is not your thing. You disembark either the train or the ferry at the foot or in the middle of a village.

One caveat is that the ferry does not stop at Corniglia--you have the option to hike there or to take the train. If you take the train and don't want to walk up 300+ stairs, there is a park bus that will make it much easier on the legs--so even this highest of the villages is easy to reach.

We found Levanto to be a perfect staging point for the Cinque Terre. It is easy to get to--no city traffic to fight in order to get to its heart. It's easy to walk around in; there are good restaurants and a free beach--along with the regular European type beach clubs where you rent lounges and umbrellas. The Villa Margherita is very nice, away from noise and traffic, has its own parking, serves breakfast and is owned by very nice people. I would go back there in a heartbeat.

Walking with Ghosts

Roma--Pompei--Herculaneum--from such places ancient spirits speak of lives lived long ago. Lives filled with laughter, sadness, love and hate. Lives spent searching for a God who listened, who cared, who could be known as a friend--who was something greater than Zeus or Apollo or Venus or an emperor--someone who promised hope. The temples are so many and so empty.

It was fun for us to share these places with our son Jeff--an avid watcher of TV programs which chronicle events and people of the past. Anyone who has listened to the ghosts of the Colosseum or walked the Via Appia into the Imperial Forum or studied the plaster casts of victims of Mt. Vesuvius, or been entertained by the artwork at the Casa da Vettii knows the thrill that doing these things brings. The sense of being suspended in time, of trying to know what it was like when that place was the now, of trying to see the colorfully frescoed walls which today show only traces of the beauty they once were and finally being in speechless awe of the architectural wonders created by people of long ago. How did they do it? Could we do it today?

Ken and I have been in Rome many times and yet never tire of being there. There is always a place we haven't been, something new to find--this time it was watching young archaeologists methodically scrape away layers of dirt and mud from new excavations in the forum. As a child I fantasized of being an archaeologist who would discover a lost Egyptian tomb filled with gold and glitter, but, really, what a less than romantic occupation it is unless and until a new engraving or shattered object is found. Then it must be heart stoppingly exciting!

We did go to a new excavation at the Vatican--a Roman Necropolis which lies under two Vatican parking structures. This area , which requires reservations, provides a fascinating glimpse of life and death from about the 3rd century BC through the 2nd century AD. The e-mail address is: visitedidattiche.musei@scv.va When mailing specify the date you would like to visit, the number of people in your party and the language you prefer. (For those of you who have been to the Scavi, it is much easier to get reservations for this new area.)


Then there is Pompei and Herculaneum--where you walk into another dimension as you become the guests of lingering ghosts and spirits, waiting for release from the moment of their terrifying, fiery, smothering deaths. In startling plaster casts you see the faces and sandals and clothes worn as the last breath was drawn--it is being face-to-face with agony as you look at features that lived, partied, squabbled, loved and cried 2000 years ago. This is not a National Geographic special--you are really here and it is true.

79 A.D. Seaside Villa--Herculaneum

We had a great day in Pompei--a nice, cooling breeze blew. We could wander and roam as much as we wanted. In the past when Ken and I have been there, the weather has been hot enough to be almost unbearable so this time was a delight. Casey and his idolized Uncle Jeff were appropriately intrigued and fascinated by the fast food stands, houses, bakeries, laundries, graffiti, tombs and temples left for posterity on April 24, 79 A.D.

Pompei Forum--Mt. Vesuvius in Background

Pompei Villa

And then, Jeff enjoyed sitting in the amphitheater where Pink Floyd has held a concert. His only wish being that he could be there at dusk listening to the music on his IPOD. This sounded like a pretty nice idea; although, my selection of music would have been different.

We were staying at the Hotel Diana in Pompeii (which, by the way, I very much recommend) so we were able to wander back and rest after the day and before dinner.

The unexpected treat of this trip was staying in Pompeii--a real town of southern Italy. What a difference there is between this area and other parts of the country. We have been south before--Naples and the exquisite Almafi Coast--but neither of these adequately reflect the spirit of the non-tourist little towns and villages. Interestingly, once you get away from the archaeological site with all of its vendors, parking lots and buses, there is a simple town of the people. We were there on the weekend when the passeggiata (strolling and people meeting which happens each evening in Italian towns) seemed to last from morning till late at night. The air was alive and vibrant with laughter and good friends.

Young people ride the train in from neighboring towns and spend the evening eyeing each other and forming relationships. Cars--some filled with boys and other with girls, but not mixed--circle the piazza much like a scene from the 50's. Romances are born and die in the course of the evening.

Couples push baby strollers; old men and women sit and share stories; school children run and play; neighbors meet and greet. And we, feeling invisible, sat at the outside table, drinking caffè, watching life pass by. How fortunate we felt to learn more of the country we love so much.

So, this was a wonderful 6 days spent with three men I love--husband, son and grandson. I am blessed.

April in Paris

Not the most creative title but certainly très appropriate!

Paris is big, noisy, crowded and most definitely unique. It appears as a place that knows its own mind, propelling itself, day in and day out, along courses it has designed and created for its own pleasure and personality.

Neighborhoods with distinctly different characters--a few quiet and withdrawn but most bustling with energy and apparent purpose --merge into and through each other in maze like proximity.

It is a rich city that holds much history, bloodshed, intrigue, beauty and grandeur. It is unlike any other place I know. And--it is not my favorite place.

Florence draws even the stranger into its mystery and past. It has a history colored by centuries of turmoil, romance, intrigue and upheavals and yet it shares all freely with the citizens of the world. There is an openness and comfort with itself that enters into the soul of the visitor and traveler.

Paris does not do this--at least for me. That great city seems to "show off" its features--wide boulevards, regal architecture, enormous palaces, impressive cathedrals and churches. It is a place where you feel the outsider role rather than an embrace.

We have been to Paris before and I do not remember it this way at all. Perhaps because it was many years ago, before travel became everyone's obsession, when days could be spent in leisurely strolls, uncrowded museums and quiet window shopping. Or maybe because we did not have an eight-year-old in tow then.

Having lived in a very pastoral setting for the last many months, I wasn't prepared for the multitudes of yellow and red and blue open-topped buses possessing the streets, or so many tour buses disgorging so many people--tourists like us so I surely can't cast stones. Taxis cruise and fill the wide boulevards. People rush and run and hurry wherever they are going. And-lines, lines, lines.

We enjoyed the Louvre, the Musèe Orsay, the Picasso Musèe, the Jardin des Tulieries and walking--well, sort of enjoyed that part. For a brief review of our museum experiences, check out Casey's take on them in KZ in Toscana and see his budding artistic talents. It's a pretty good read.

I know that France values and protects its language--even having an official government agency to make sure it is not encroached upon or compromised by foreign intrusion. I know there is a great fear of the prominence of English world wide--the language of the rabble. But--in their zeal, the keepers succeed in keeping their history and richness to themselves--not taking the opportunity to educate the non-French speaking world citizens about their great past, art work and events. I do understand the argument that one should know the language of a country and if not, too bad. I just don't think it is a reasonable argument in a world with 1000's of languages.

Signs in front of buildings, in museums or other places of note are never in English--a language that many, many tourists can read regardless of nationality. If there is a common language today, it is English. So, although I am interested in the history of Paris, have read much and am at least minimally knowledgeable, I would have liked enlightenment about specific buildings or artists or places and events. I did not leave as enriched with a broader understanding as I would have in Florence or Rome. It is interesting, though, that English is utilized in the interest of money making opportunities.

With all this said, it was fun to watch Casey when he saw the Eiffel tower lit up at night and when he stood under it, looking upward in awe. He will always remember having fun and laughter with children of the world in the Tuileries. Seeing a place through the eyes of a child is very special--even when he gets to the point of "I'm bored." It seems that the Orsay is just a little too much--once through Cezanne, Van Gogh and Toulouse Lautrec, the park sounded good to him. He loved the Picasso museum and now sees himself as a budding Picasso. The Mona Lisa, which was high on his short list of must-sees, disappointed terribly. The guards allow children to go right up in front of the ropes so that they can look and look. Casey tried very hard to walk in such a way that her eyes would follow him but, to his dismay, they didn't move.

We ate well for the most part. The weather was wonderful; trees were beginning to bloom and flowers in the parks were colorful and lovely. Paris is a city of parks and that is nice. Maybe next time, its magic will prevail for me.

And, finally, apologies to my good friend Ann, who loves Paris, and to others who, I am sure, profoundly disagree with me.

Au Revoir

Tonight we're off to Paris for 5 days. So Sad! I'll tell all about how wonderful the food was, how beautiful April in Paris is and what Casey thinks of the Mona Lisa when we get back.

You would think KZ would be excited about the Eiffel Tower but no---he wants to see the Mona Lisa and go to the Picasso Musèe. He was totally fascinated by the multi-colored eyed lady and the weird cats in the Picasso museum in Barcelona and so Picasso is his "favorite artist." Although he also fancies himself as a Michaelangelo and Leonardo man. What can I say?

And then--there is the food court at Les Galleries Lafayette that we must investigate--according to friend, Ann.

So, we will eat and walk and look and have fun. Not a bad life!

Perfect Parma

We have fallen in love with Parma--for a few days anyway. What a delightful town to visit and explore--not too big, not too small, quiet, no motorcycles, sophisticated, confident--not to mention phenomenal food, the best gelato ever and a wonderful masseuse.

We were there last week for too brief of time and so have every intention of returning. Why?

Palazzo della Rosa Prati: Thanks to a friend on Slow Travel, we stayed at this perfect place in its perfect location. The palazzo
is situated on the Piazza Duomo with wonderful views of the Duomo and Baptistry; it has been the Rosa Prati's family home since the 15th century. Vittorio Rosa Prati, who fortunately is quite bilingual for those of us who are linguistically impaired, provides gracious and warm assistance beginning with the first e-mail.

The room we were in was Ortensia which is beautiful with a wonderful view of the piazza . The other rooms I saw were quite nice, but Ortensia is the prize--if you can get it. The Palazzo does not serve breakfast but there is a bar two doors down.


The Baptistery, which is said to be "the most important and advanced monument of the middle ages in Italy," sits right next to Palazzo Rosa Prati. It is breathtaking to see this space as you step through the door. Incredibly well-preserved, beautiful tempera paintings from the 13th century seem to cover every inch of its walls and vault.


Adjacent to the Baptistery is the cathedral which we entered when there were only 15 minutes until lunch closure. One look and we knew that it would take much longer than a quarter hour to try to appreciate the richness of the art and architecture. So--off we went to our first meal in Parma at Osteria della Zingaro across from San Giovanni Evangelista. As in all good places, it was fortunate that we arrived early because 10 minutes later, there were no empty tables--filled by locals, not tourists

Having been told by Vittorio that horse meat is a common and appreciated food in Parma, I decided to have--carpaccio of cavallo. It was sweet, good and I would not have guessed what it was had I not known. After lunch we returned to the cathedral. And--we had been right; it took focused, concentrated time to be amazed by all that is there including a cupola frescoed by Correggio.

In back of the cathedral's apse is the Church and Monastery of San Giovanni Evangelista--another place with frescoes and art which you will not want to miss. And--across from the church is K2 gelateria--arguably the best gelato I've had (in close competition with Gianni's in Bologna.) Truth be told, gelato in Parma is good--we tried 3 places but K2 wins hands down. If you like gelato, be sure to find this place.

Vittorio arranged a visit for us to a Parmigiano Reggiano producer which is an excursion I highly recommend. Although it may not sound like something particularly special, it actually is. Did you know that the master cheese maker works 7 days a week, 365 days a year, year after year after year--on his wedding day, Christmas, the days his children are born--always. Why? Take the tour and you'll know this and other fascinating tidbits. Learn about one of Parma's culinary contributions to the world!

The Farnese Theater provides a fascinating architectural glimpse into theater construction in the 15th century. It was built in short order for a visit to Parma by Cosimo d'Medici--who never showed up. In WWII it was destroyed by Allied bombs but has since been restored according to original plans and photographs. It is inside the Palace of the Pilotta along with the Archeological Museum, National Gallery and Palatina Library.


Of course, there is much more in Parma--some of which we did see and some that we will see--next time. Parma is a walking place--window shopping is delightful and beckons one through the doors. I could shop here very easily--much more so than in Firenze which I find confusing and overwhelming.

Oh--Margherita, the incredibly good masseuse! The New Beauty Center Due is located in the Rosa Prati courtyard --0521-23-46-28. And--if you are staying at the Palazzo there is a 20% discount. Having had massages many places, many times, I can say this was just about the best ever.

Two other places we ate and can recommend are:
Trattoria del Tribunale and Trattoria Correieri

I look forward to all that is left to see and do in Parma. It enchants me.