THE END OF WEEK TWO – Part Three

NOTE: I realize I am writing some of this in present tense and some in past. Rather than go through to correct or create a consistency, I’m choosing to go with the flow of my mood. I guess I’m allowed, since it’s my blog and I definitely notice that some of my postings seem to be in the past, while others are right there in the present with me. Go figure!

Tuesday, May 18 – The day dawned with SUNNY skies, for the first time since we arrived. So we grabbed our opportunity to visit the sea and Niki de St. Phalle’s Giardino Tarocchi (the Tarot Garden) near Capalbio in the southwestern part of Tuscany. This is NOT a trip for a rainy day. We hope the sun will hold.

Our drive out to the Promenade d’Argentio (I may not be spelling that correctly . . . can’t find my map at the moment) was simple, uneventful, and took us past the many many vineyards in the Montalcino area, where the best Tuscan wine is made . . . Brunello di Montalcino. It’s fascinating to note the wide variety of vineyards, in terms of the sheer size of the field, the age of the vines (judging by the thickness of each vine trunk), the leafy green vine tops shimmering in the sunlight, quavering in the wind. And each vineyard owner plants roses at the front end of every vine row . . . I know there is a reason for that, but I’ll have to ask Neil when I get home. So beautiful roses introduce the vineyard to any observer who passes by.

When we passed through the Montalcino area and headed for Grosseto and the coast, the terrain changed dramatically. Now the views were much flatter, and I must say less appealing. Is there anything unappealing about Italy? Sure there is, just as in any country, but simply a bit boring is as bad as it got on this ride. Within another 45 minutes, we began to smell the sea and around that next curve, there it was in all its beauty. Sparkling shards of sunlight on the water. White dots of boats out on in the harbors, even the hint of a cruise ship or two.

As we got closer to our first destination, Porto San Stefano, we began to pass “camping” facilities, which were really rows of delightfully colored cabins, presumably on the beaches behind all the buildings and foliage on each side of our road. Then the restaurants, small alimentari (little grocery stores), and an occasional “regular” grocery store (designated by the words COOP in capital letters) began to show themselves, and finally we were on the strip bridge that linked us to “our” island and the Porto. It was easy to find a parking place and we drove past many before we settled on an area that appeared to have several restaurants right on the water, waiting to serve us the freshest fish in this area of Tuscany.

We walked along the water to the restaurant area, even stopping in a small dress shop where the young man was delighted to find four women from Colorado entering his store. He had lived in Loveland for some of his childhood years, and felt as though he had made a connection from his past. I shook my head, marveling at another little synchronicity popping up in my travels. There are many of those here and there if I just pay attention.

The young man at the store pointed us to his favorite restaurant just across the street from his shop, whose name I have forgotten in these wee hours of the morning, and we sat out at the water’s edge, eating fresh branzino (sea bass) in the brilliant sun.

After a leisurely lunch, we made our way to the Tarot Garden, a most amazing collection of mosaic representations of the artist’s Major Arcana. de St. Phalle takes her inspiration from the Spanish architect, Antoni Gaudi. The way I have to explain the visual is to say that it is a sort of Moroccan Disneyworld on psychedelics. Incredible, unbelievable, imagination gone fantastic. Check out the website, http://www.nikidesaintphalle.com, for some photos that MIGHT begin to give you an idea of what you’ve missed on this day.

After the visit to the garden, everything else for the rest of the day was anticlimactic!

THE END OF WEEK TWO-Part Two

Monday, May 17 – A grey day, but at least it isn’t raining. Our destination today is San Gimignano because even if it rains, there are enough churches, shops and museums to protect our wet heads. We’ll wait for more sunshine before we venture to the Tuscan coast.

I am on a mission as well, finding an internet cafe so I can sent a message to Neil and my good friend Carole, a tribute to Marcia I wrote in lieu of my presence at her memorial service later today. I am still stunned by the reality of her death, and probably won’t really deal with it completely for a long time to come. But I must get this eulogy to someone who can read it in my absence.

While the traveling women wander here and there, through the many ceramics shops, jewelry shops and stores displaying beautiful stacks of olive wood cutting boards, I hunt for the internet cafe. I have brought my own computer today, making my backpack twice as heavy as it might be, but by the time I find the Bar Boboli, I see that it was to no avail. They do have computers but not wireless, so I type my entire piece of writing into their computer, sending it through the g-mail airwaves. With all the funky keyboard changes on European computers, it takes me twice as long, but I’m happy to have sent it so I can relax.

My favorite store in San Gimignano belongs to the potter Franco Balducci and it is tucked away behind the right side of the Duomo down a smaller cobblestone street. Franco is at the front of the tiny space, making bowls and cups and other vessels as his customers browse among his finished products. I have bought many of his wares in the past and this trip I’m not collecting. I’m thinking about my home and the packing that awaits me, and I know the last thing I need is MORE of anything. Less and less will do nicely. But it’s comforting to visit this artisan every two years, in the same space, with new versions of the same quality items. And I still pine for one or two of his larger vessels, the ones you couldn’t possibly hope to ship home in one piece without a lot more trouble than I’d like to take at the moment.

The day turns out to be quite nice, with cloud cover in part, but no rain. No umbrella time for a change, and we wander up and down the streets until 5:30, when we begin to make the long haul down the “hill” to the parking lot, trying to find our car. Somehow the shuttle bus to the parking lots has inconveniently disappeared or stopped running for the day, and the walk is good for us.

We return to the little town just before our villa, Torrinieri, and stop at a local restaurant, La Compania, for spaghetti al ragu, Caprese salad (tomatoes and mozarella), a glass of the local red wine, and for me, a dessert of Grand Marnier. Stefano, our waiter and probably the owner of this establishment, seems delighted by my meager attempts to speak Italian to him, and is kind and attentive to our table. He is a bear of a man, whose front teeth stick nearly straight out of his mouth, with a wide gap in between. He would have benefited from some attentive BRACES during his youth, but his hospitality is unaffected by this lack.

Home again, home again, to think about Marcia’s service coming up in Fort Collins, starting at midnight, Italy time. A bit of writing and reading in bed before sleep.

More in Part Three