Okay, I am now realizing that the date at the top of this post is the day I’m WRITING, not the days I’m writing ABOUT! So . . . while the date for this post says Monday, May 26, our Villa week in Tuscany was May 10-17. Last episode found us settled in, well fed on the first night.
So . . .

Sunday, May 11 . . . Carol and Kay opted to hang around the villa and relax, while the other eight of us got into two cars and went in search of the Giardino Tarocchi, a Tarot garden near Capalbio in southwestern Tuscany, very near the sea. Our first stop, though, prompted by our host’s recommendation, was to head for Monte Argentario and Porto San Stefano, just off the western coast of Tuscany south of Grosseto. It was beautiful and seemed less polished than most of the tourist driven Tuscan towns, and we found a lovely little restaurant on the water that served fish fresh from the nets.

We tried to drive around the island, but found ourselves in very rough countryside, with the locals urging us to turn back . . . “Bruto, bruto!”, so we took their advice, headed back the way we came, and down the coastline about 45 minutes to the Tarot Garden (www.niki-museum.jp/english/tarot.htm). This unique site was designed and constructed (for decades, mind you) by artist Niki de Saint Phalle, whose Major Arcana figures, brought nearly to life in gigantic mosaic figures, were inspired by the Spanish-born architect Antoni Gaudi. (See his Park Guell in Barcelona on the site http://www.greatbuildings.com/buildings/Park_Guell.html)

Words cannot express the surreal majesty of Niki’s creation, her life’s work, and I had to buy a book to take home with me, so people would better understand my poor attempt at describing the figures in this Disney/Gaudi-on-psychedelics wilderness park. Half of our group was overwhelmed and headed off to the parking lot early, and the other half of us just wanted to stay for another day! I will definitely return to that haunting place . . .

At closing time, we piled back into our cars and found our way to our villa again. A new experience for me, and perhaps I’ll work it into the next Italy Women trip in 2010.

Monday, May 12 – San Gimignano
San Gimignano is a Tuscan hill town whose spectacular skyline is formed by fourteen remaining towers of the seventy-two original medieval spires. Half of the group ventured a bit west to the Etruscan town of Volterra and the rest of us spent a day wandering in and out of shops, churches, and cappucino bars. The light rain didn’t dampen (ha!) our spirits too much, and I visited my favorite potter, my favorite pasticcheria, and my favorite quiet little piazza tucked away at the back end of the main road.

Though we wandered individually through much of the day, six of us ended up at the same cafe in the middle of the town, sipping wine and espresso by 5:30 or so. And then the return to our lovely little villa for dinner.

Tuesday, May 13 – Montepulciano/Pienza
Pienza is one of my favorite towns in all of Tuscany, perhaps in all of Italy so far, and I love this little day trip. Montepulciano is one of those walled cities up on the hill, with churches, shops and restaurants, as well as the ever more popular internet cafes. There’s also a leather shop there, where I’ve bought lovely journals in the past visits.

We ate lunch together at Caffe Poliziano, actually a recommendation from a friend of one of the 2004 participants, and it was such a good suggestion, I incorporated it into my bi-annual plans. Mid-afternoon we made our way to Pienza, just a few kilometres down the road, where the little piazza and the church were the sites of two scenes from The English Patient.

Pope Pius II (I think he’s the one) was born here, he was baptized in the Pienza church, and there’s a lot of historic hoopla sround him and this claim to fame! But that matters not a whit to me. What I love is to just stand on those broad stone steps leading down to the second tier of the town, where I gaze out on the Tuscan countryside below. It is a spectacular view, sweeping, green and glittering, with the staccatto and explamation points of the cypress trees lining long driveways up to farmhouses on the hillsides.

A cappuccino in the corner bar on a chilly day, a chance meeting with some people from London, Ontario, and the chatter of Italians in the area . . . all remind me that my “win the lottery” place is here in this area.

Ciao . . . to be continued . . .

Saturday, May 10, 2008: We spent most of the day in Siena, some of the group opting to stay at our hotel to sleep, wander the grounds, read, whatever we wanted. The birds and flowers are everywhere, and Carol had her binocs and Birds of Europe with her much of our trip. Colleen, Calla and I had a bit of a picnic in the sitting room of the Palazzo, and by about 3:30 we were ready to head out to find our private villa, nestled in the hills about 45 minutes southeast of Siena.

My plan was to make sure I stopped at a grocery store before arriving at the villa so we would have coffee, fruit, juice, eggs, and some other basics for food on Sunday. But of course our timing in the town closest to the villa was not great, and the grocery store, the InCoop, was closed for mid-afternoon naps. Gee . . . that meant that Barbara L, Kay and I just HAD to find a little bar that sold gelato . . . you know, just to kill the time until we could buy our groceries. And every little town, even those withOUT grocery stores have bars that sell gelato.

After all that, we drove up a dirt road toward Podere Camera, our half-of-a-villa on an agriturismo, a working farm that offers hospitality to travelers. This was a new villa for my groups, and I must say I was very pleased with the sight-unseen choice. Five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, dining room, several patios and terraces, a swimming pool, and all on the property of a winery!

We had arranged that Maria, one of the owners, would cook our dinner tonight, and were treated to a typically sumptuous Italian meal, complete with the true vino della casa, the wine of the house. Insalate Caprese, pasta, mixed meat dish, cheese, and a delicious fruit torte before the evening was over. With enough left to feed us the following night, we fell into our “new” beds with thoughts of the daily adventures ahead of us for the next week.

Friday, May 9, 2008: We packed up all our luggage and after checking out of the Hotel Pendini, we went down to the street level to get our three taxis. The ride is short to the EuropCar office, but with luggage and ten women it is impossible to walk to the rental car section of Borgo Ognissante. Once settled at the EuropCar counter, we secured our three cars, registered the drivers (me, Colleen and Jane) and the three alternate drivers (Libby, Donna and Kay), and made sure the navigators (Carol, Donna and Kay) had their maps marked for the route to Siena, we began the most treacherous part of our journey . . . driving OUT OF FLORENCE!

We negotiated this assignment with varying degrees of success and timeliness, and all eventually found our way to the Palazzo di Valli in Siena, our home for one night. After parking cars, checking out our rooms and bring in just a bit of luggage, we caught the shuttle bus into the walled old city of Siena and met our guide, my friend Viviana Girola, who gave us a warm and informative tour of old Siena, including the Duomo, the side church which houses beautiful illuminated manuscripts, and the Church of San Domenico where I again was able to view the head of St. Catherine of Siena. I know . . . it’s ghoulish, but it is truly her head encased in a glass compartment in that side altar. She was the saint of the people, no doubt about it!

Our dinner at Antica Osteria da Divo was exquisite as usual, and we walked happily through the Campo to our late night shuttle stop, finally returning to the Palazzo again for a good night’s sleep.

Please note: I can’t post pictures on these foreign computers so the photos will have to wait. And I must say I have taken fewer photos this time than ever before. More watching, less documenting, I guess. The other women will make sure I have plenty of their photo CDs to add to my trip files.

Okay, now where was I . . . ? Oh, yes . . . food, Wednesday night, Il Latine. How could I forget?

When I told Franco (manager at Il Porcospino) that we were going to Il Latine for dinner, he said, “Molto turistico . . . nothing special.” But then our language teacher, Leonardo, said, “Well, it is touristy (remember, he doesn’t talk with us in ANY English, but still, I could understand him . . . ) but it is an adventure, an experience, something special all on its own.”

And it is . . . they now take reservations, but even at that, people line up in the little picturesque alleyway for an hour before the restaurant opens, trying to make sure there is room for them to come in for the 7:30 seating for dinner. We had our reservations for 10, and the manager led us up to one of the many rooms here and there, to a table for ten. I asked if we could please have dinner for SIX, not ten, because in the past, there is SO much food left over, the price per person is getting higher, the dollar sinking in value, and I thought I’d try it this way. To my happy surprise, they agreed to bring out food for six. So . . . first the antipasti . . . prosciuto, cheese, breads, bruschetta, then the soups, then the pastas, four different kinds, then huge plates of meat . . . chicken, pork, rabbit, lamb, beef in two types of cuts . . . and then the spinach and salad and potatoes, asparagus. And at the end, cantucci con vin santo (basically biscotti dipped in a sweet “holy wine”) and two platters of mixed desserts.

This is not to mention the liquids. Prosecco to begin with (sort of an Italian champagne), then all the wine we wanted from their house jugs, lots of water (still and sparkling), and moscato at the end, a sweeter dessert wine. The amount of food for six people was PLENTY for ten of us, except for adding two extra orders of spinach for those of us who love it.

After dinner some of the women went back to the hotel, but I love to walk near the Arno River after dark. Several of the group joined me, and we crossed the Trinita bridge over to the Oltrarno district, walked up Via San Jacopo to point out to Donna the little yarn store I love, Beatrice Galli. A stop for bottled water and a bathroom, crossing the Ponte Vecchio lined on both sides with beautiful jewelry stores during the day, closed up at night, and back to the Piazza della Repubblica, where we almost went into our hotel, but were tempted by the music at a nearby restaurant with a large outdoor seating area.

There was a piano bar with a singer, and enough room to dance. We watched two or three older gentlemen do their steps with several younger women seated around the area, and we talked until after 1:00 a.m.!

THAT was the rest of Wednesday!

Thursday, May 8 – We began after breakfast by walking to the Uffizi Galleria, where we had reservations at 9:45 a.m. This is an enormous art gallery with old old masters’ works in it, and it makes my eyes glaze over, but it is a must for any group trip. After I got everyone in and lugged my tired butt up the two LONG sets of stairs to the “first floor”, I walked around for 10 minutes and decided my time needed to be alone and wandering. So I claimed my small backpack from the security area and exited.

So . . . first across the Arno to the yarn store, where I bought just a very few balls of yarn, enough to make a scarf while I am here. She had no circular needles and directed me to a shop I was going to visit anyway . . . Samba Mercale, a fabulous button and trim shop. An hour later, with my circular knitting needles and 80 Euro worth of wonderful buttons, I wandered to a Palazzo recommended by our language teacher, realized as I went through it that I had seen it before, and made my way slowly to an internet cafe on the way to Santa Croce. Checked my e-mail, posted the first entry on this blog-trip, and tried to find a favorite little alimentari (sort of a wonderful little Italian deli market) near the Piazza Santa Croce, where I’ve been before.

After several turns into tiny streets that were NOT the right ones, I did discover a sign that said “Via Torta”. That sounded familiar and I took a chance. There were the places I was looking for, as well as a street market with wonderful cherries and cherry tomatoes. I added several items to my picnic bag . . . cheese, bread, salami, a half bottle of wine with paper cup, several tiny cookies, and a sumptuous slice of vegetable quiche (frittata, here) and headed for the Piazza.

There in the bright sun in front of a magnificent church, I sat on a stone bench, opened my picnic, and watched the people while I ate my little meal. THIS is what I love in Florence! When I was finished watching and eating and sitting, perhaps two hours after I arrived, I again wandered the streets until I found a restaurant I had passed two nights before. Trattoria Alfredo, which I had remembered from 9 years ago when Neil and I were here because Ashley went to school in Florence that year. We had eaten in this restaurant and it was here I had tasted my first risotto con funghi porchini. I asked the waiter for a card, he did the typical flirtation, handed me a card and said, “For you, madame, no reservation is necessary . . . “.

Ah, the charm of the Italian cities and towns! Later I returned to the hotel, met up with a few of the women, and we decided when to have our dinner . . . see, food food food, walking walking walking, food food wine wine food.

So we headed out for our dinner, walked again past the button shop so Donna would know where it was. They were closed, with their rolled down metal curtain almost to the street level, and we peered in. They recognized me, saw me with six other women, and were smart enough to invite us all in to look and shop. I was afraid I’d be tempted to repeat my performance, and with the metal barricade nearly down, it was hot in the shop so I ducked out and walked around the tiny piazza down the street until the rest of the women returned to me, Donna with HER 100 Euro purchase in hand. See . . . smart shop owners!

So dinner at 7:45 with seven of us at Trattoria Alfredo. LOTS of food, too much, actually, but it was delicious. Risotto funghi porcini, of course, risotto gorgonzola, ravioli gorgonzola, some fish, appetizers, green salads, and dolce, a mixed plate of desserts. Wine, water and conversation . . . again. Back to the hotel and to my room, facing the Piazza. Because my 4th floor windows were open, I soon heard someone down on the square calling my name. Looking down, I saw four of my group beckoning me to return with them to the restaurant with the music and dancing.

No way tonight, I thought. I’m EXHAUSTED! They were there until midnight, while I tried to organize all my maps, directions, etc. for tomorrow’s journey to Siena.

Bed later than I had hoped, past midnight, and the sense that all was ready for the morning. Tomorrow, off to Siena for an afternoon walking tour, another delicious meal at the Antiche Osteria da Divo, a night in beautiful Palazzo di Valli, and Saturday back in the old Centro of Siena until time to head out for our villa in the Tuscan countryside.

Buona Notte!

Joannah

Monday, May 5, 2008

Well, our 2008 adventure began even before we boarded the plane this time, because of course we were on Alitalia Airlines. Though their phone agents are wonderful and helpful and charming, their e-mail notification system (when the schedules change or the planes are broken or the flights are canceled . . . which is OFTEN) sucks! I won’t bother to fill you in on the gory details, but suffice it to say that instead of leaving by limo (HUMMER, NO LESS!) at 4:30 AM on Sunday, we left an hour earlier than that, groggy from barely a half-nights sleep, and headed for DIA.

Once we checked in, all was uneventful, and we arrived at the lovely Hotel Pendini at about 1:00 on Monday afternoon. Ten women, a reasonable number of bags, and not one was lost in the flight pattern, Denver, JFK, Milan, Firenze!

A bit of an orientation walk for some, a nap for others, and then dinner at Il Porcospino, where Franco was charming as usual, the dinner was delicious, and we all fell into bed soon after returning to the Hotel.

Tuesday, May 7, 2008 – a very busy day. The Pendini serves a wonderful and varied breakfast and we all gobbled ham, cheese, yogurt, cereal, croissants, espresso, etc. Then we headed over to the Duomo and Battistero to meet our guide, Elena, from Tours by Roberto. We listened to her extensive history explanations, which included answers to our varied questions, for three hours as we walked together on a beautiful morning.

She finished her tour at the Palazzo Strozzi, just a block or two from the Cantinetta Antinori, where we indulged in a delicious lunch before walking to my language school (see last September’s entries), where the staff had graciously invited us to two one-hour language lessons with my privato, Leonardo. He is delightful, an excellent teacher, and remembered everyone’s names after only one introduction!

When our lesson was completed and the second fiasco (finding the right bus stop after asking five Italians who “didn’t know” . . . (non lo so), we eventually got on Bus #12 to visit the Piazzale Michelangelo and the Church of San Mineota. Mass with the chanting monks, views over the entire city of Florence, a gelato on the way from one to another, and weather we would have paid big money to get, but which was free of charge . . . what could be better!

Dinner on our own, and six of us wandered to an old haunt of Barbara Leyendecker’s art-study days, Il Pennello. Low key, small ristorante, delicious! Of course . . . remember, we’re in ITALY!

Wednesday, May 7 – another breakfast and out to the museums day. Our first appointment was at the Accadamia to see the spectacular David, Michelangelo’s masterpiece. I never tire of looking at this magnificent statue, and sat for awhile on a stone bench directly in front of him, writing about his presence in front of me.
Below: Ponte Vecchio on a brilliant day!

We were able to make our way slowly and separately to the market at San Lorenzo and the area around the Capelle Medici before our appointment at the chapel at 12:30, so I bought the tickets for the group and walked across the cobblestone street to Il Porcospino again. It was 11:00 a.m. and the restaurant wasn’t open yet, but Franco was there in a t-shirt and baseball cap and he made me a cappucino, guided me to an outdoor table, and kissed my cheeks in appropriate Italian style! One by one the rest of the group wandered in, got a bit to eat, and took their tickets to the Medici Chapel while I checked my e-mail, returned to Il Porcospino and ordered some lunch.

I said, “Pasta con ragu” and Franco shook his head. “You can get that anywhere. Let me make you something special, dear.” So out came three large homemade ravioli with ricotta and artichoke, covered lightly with a bit of meat sauce. My usual Caprese salad (see photo right here . . . makes you HUNGRY, yes?)
and a glass of wine, plenty of still water, and I was set. I sat there until 2:30, waited for the rest of the group, and headed back to the language school for our second language lesson.

This time three of the women didn’t attend, and Leonardo amazingly named everyone who was around the table, and the two who didn’t come! We all had great laughs, attempting to communicate in Italian, some people not ever having studied a word of Italian, I with my meager language lessons.

I was pleased to find that more of my Italian knowledge surfaced than I had thought possible, and we again had a wonderful experience. This time, we had leisure time to walk back to the hotel or stop in shops or have a quick cappuccino/espresso, etc. We all met back at the hotel at 6:00 to prepare for our dinner at Il Latine (do you get the picture . . . fun, food, museums, food, lessons, food, food, food), a truly unique dining experience. I’ll save the description of THAT for tomorrow.

At least now I have caught you up to more than the first three days of our travels.

Ciao!

Joannah

So . . . Friday, October 12, a beautiful day (we could have used that sunshine while we were searching for property with a lovely view in the countryside!) and we pointed our car southwest toward Assisi, another new town for us. We arrived there in the early afternoon, parked near the top of the town and walked down a bit to the beautiful church. We explored the upper level, then the lower one, watched the tourists pay the priest so he would say masses for them and their loved ones.

Of course, as usual we then stopped for cappucino and a bit of a sandwich before we lugged our tired bodies back up the hill to the parking lot. Winding down and down and down, around and around the hill to the main road, we moved west toward Lake Trasiemeno, where we had stayed 10 years ago, and then to Cortona.

Cortona is just inside the Tuscan border, the location for the book Under The Tuscan Sun (also the movie location, actually). We decided perhaps we might look for a place to stay there, since it was late afternoon. I knew exactly where I wanted to park in this beautiful hill town, near the main Piazza, and my little guide book suggested a reasonably priced hotel. I just hoped I could find it!

The road up to Cortona is confusing because there are many points of entry through the old walls and many little parking areas. But I kept guessing correctly, miraculously enough, and we came out of the winding road to the main part of the town, JUST EXACTLY where I wanted to be. I commented to Neil that I thought we could get a Cortona map and find this hotel my book recommended.

We got out of the car, made sure we had the requisite parking sticker, and when I turned around, there, right in front of us, was the hotel. Beautiful, perched out on the edge of the hill, overlooking the beautiful valley far below. And they had a room, a lovely room, as well as a sunny dining room overlooking that same valley.

We could not believe our good fortune. We checked into our room and could hardly wait to wander through the town. I bring my Italy Women to this lovely place, but Neil had never been here. We decided to find a restaurant way off the beaten path and take our time getting to dinner. The restaurants up in this town don’t open until at least 7:30 or 8:00 so we couldn’t have been in a hurry if we had tried.

I found my favorite coffee and drink bar, one that has delicious little appetizers served on trays with the drinks we order, and everything was so good that we ordered a second round, peach bellinis, I think, with a bit more food. We wandered through the streets, down one little lane and another, reading menus, checking out the atmosphere, looking for the restaurant that looked least like we would see even one American in it!

We succeeded in choosing just the right little place, with a party of local young people celebrating something at the table next to us, and a group of Brit/German travelers on the other side. I ordered everything in Italian, we had a wonderful, inexpensive bottle of wine with our food, and a really decadent set of desserts. The only photos I have are of the nearly scraped-clean plates, Neil’s with trails of dark chocolate, of course, and mine decorated with traces of raspberry and cream.

Thursday, October 11. Cupramontana

After eating dinner at a restaurant in town, recommended by our host, Cristina, we made our way back to our B & B, had a glass of the wine made just downstairs from our room, and went to sleep. In the morning we awoke to a lovely breakfast in the dining room just outside our bedroom and then we were off for the day. We were to meet Peony downstairs and she would take us to her husband, Peter. From there, we would visit several dilapidated country houses in the area, just to begin checking out the real estate. And of course, this is the one day it was drizzly, foggy, with almost no visibility. But it was the only day we had left in Marche, so we took what we had.

Peter and Peony were delightful guides through the crumbling stone beauties of the Marche countryside, and after a few wanders through mud-ridden fields, a stop at a coffee shop, and a quick peek at a little (tiny!) apartment at the top of a chapel in a neighboring town, we continued our search for the perfect “handyman’s dream” on the hillsides. Just for our dreaming purposes, of course, at least this trip.

At the end of a long day, we returned to our room, cleaned up, and drove to Jesi, a larger town about 12km from Cupra. We found the recommended restaurant, Settima Cielo, (7th Heaven) and had a perfectly delightful dinner in a room full of families, young people, all Italian, almost no English spoken at all. Wonderful! More practice for my meager language skills. I’m beginning to be quite impressed with myself!

Back to Cupramontana, sleep, another delicious breakfast on Friday morning, pack up and head toward Umbria and ultimately Tuscany again.

I know, I know. It’s been too long. But I promised.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007. Urbino to Cupramontana . . . we awoke to a bit of rain over the Marche countryside, but still, we were in Italy, so any day is a glorious day!

Packed up our overnight bags and checked out of the little hotel, Albergo San Giovanni, walked up the narrow cobblestone street into the piazza and got our cappuccino, croissant, and cheese for breakfast. Finding our way back to the elevator in the mountain that takes one down the hill, through the mountain rock to the parking agent, we opened our maps and headed out, not sure where the next adventure would lead us.

We had spoken to a real estate agent and his wife, Peter and Peony, transplants ten years ago from Munich, and they recommended two B & Bs farther south on the path we had chosen through The Marches. I had contacted both of them this morning: one man apologetically said he and his wife were taking their first vacation in three years, so their rooms were closed for three weeks. The other, Girandola, owned by a Belgian woman I think, had no room for us, but gave us another contact in Cupramontana, , the town in which the real estate couple live.

I called. Got a grandmother who spoke no English, and her Italian was in a LeMarche dialect. I asked whether she had a room, and she said yes. That was the end of our mutual understanding of one another’s Italian. I then called Girandola back, and the Belgian owner offered to be the intermediary for us. By the time she was through helping us, we had a reservation for the Cupramontana B & B. The grandmother and mother spoke no English, but the daughter/granddaughter would be there to greet us in the evening.

So off we went from Urbino toward Gubbio, just over the border from LeMarche to Umbria), one of the names I recognized from all the reading I had done before we began our trip. We headed toward the “centro”, always a good bet, parked in the first spot we found, and began to – yes, trudge up another picturesque cobblestone street to the top of the village.

As we came to a corner, we heard raised voices (Italian raised voices, so “raised” is putting it mildly!) and saw two women and a man walking. The dark-haired young couple with a dog were arguing with a blond woman. We could only imagine the topic – and imagine we did . . . a jilted blondie confronting the “new woman”? or perhaps blondie had been a dalliance for the man and now he severed his illicit ties with her . . . who knows? But we could hear their “raised voices” even after we turned the NEXT corner.

And at the top we discovered, to our delight, a lovely enoteca which also served a very light and delicious selection of lunch plates. (As soon as I find the business card, I’ll come back to this entry and add the exact name of the place and the owner). The owner, a handsome young man, had worked for GE for five years so his English was excellent. So was his taste in the wine in his shop, as well as his personal collection of some very exquisite bottles of Italy’s best – displayed in the shop as well with signs which said “Private Collection” on them. Of course he and Neil had a lot to talk about while I munched happily and slowly on the variety of cheeses and other antipasti sitting on our table. We tasted a wine of the region, Sagramontina, I think, and spent much of the afternoon in this lovely little place.

After our long lunch, we began to walk DOWN and DOWN in another direction, just realizing that we had come into the town not in the center, but at the very top. The “centro” had a lovely park (and lots of tour buses) but we stopped at the Information office and got a map of the village so we could find our way back to our car! Then it was time for us to drive back toward our B & B and take a rest.

When we arrived in the town of Cupramontana, it took three passes down the main road and back again . . . and again . . . before we spotted the sign for Cerubini on a corner. Parked the car and tentatively entered what looked to be a little vendor for wine and a few other strange goodies (a roll of something (figs, it turned out) wrapped in a grape leaf . . . ). Cristina, the granddaughter, greeted us warmly and showed us to a lovely, spacious room on the third floor with our own gleaming, spotless bathroom. The price was 30 Euro per night per person including breakfast. A great relief after our expensive Venice stay. We decided to stay two nights instead of one, and Cristina beamed. Turns out this B & B idea was hers, and the two immaculate rooms and bathrooms on our level of the building had just recently been completed, so she was excited with her new venture.

We followed her back down to the “shop”, where the village men began appearing, in and out without interruption. It was the end of the day and they had come to buy the wine made by the three generations of women. Cristina’s a young exuberant girl/woman in sweat pants and t-shirt. She and her mother run the wine shop, where they sell Verdicchio (a white wine), Anastasia (a red named for a little niece), and olive oil from their farm. Her father and brother are out in the countryside harvesting grapes, and the grandmother sits grinning at the table in the tasting room. We settled ourselves at a little tasting table with grandmother (my phone partner earlier in the day), the mother, smiling but no English, and Cristina, whose English, coupled with my Italian, resulted in a similar conversation to the one I had the evening before in the Urbino restaurant. Delightful, hilarious, and heart-warming. God, I love this country!

I am determined to finish this, though I’ve been home and gone twice since Italy. Perhaps a day-by-day summary will be best at this point.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007: Last night we ate our final meal in Venezia with Scott and Nina. The old Italian man who helped us find the laundromat yesterday also showed us a little restaurant, out of the way of the tourists, and encouraged us to try it. We met several other people who looked longingly at the menu at Trattoria ai Giardinetto da Severino on Ruga Giufa, so we decided to make it our last Venitian repast.

Our waiter was hilarious, constantly telling us that a particular dish came with “raspberries from Knotts Berry Farm”! I don’t know where he got that phrase, or whether he once visited the US and ONLY went to Knotts Berry Farm, but despite the fact that he had a huge group across the hall to wait on (and therefore was less than properly attentive to OUR table), he endeared himself to us with that repeated humor.

This morning we got up early to say goodbye to Scott and Nina in the breakfast room, and walked them to their vaporetto stop so they could meet their train at the Venice Station. Then we had a leisurely breakfast ourselves, at Hotel Bel Sito, and followed vaporetto suit an hour later. We disembarked at the rental car station, picked up our car from AutoEurope and began our drive to LeMarche.

When the rental car agent asked where we were going to go, I told him we would wander through LeMarche for a few days. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “LeMarche . . . che bella . . . and wild . . .”

We followed the smaller roads, near the ocean’s edge, stopped for lunch at a ristorante whose wait staff (and clientele) spoke no English at all. A good sign for a good meal. No turistico specials. I knew I wanted to head for Urbino first, the largest town in the north of LeMarche, and we arrived there in the late afternoon. Parked the car outside the old city walls, as usual, and began our ascent on the street inside the closest archway. When we arrived at the “centro”, we indulged in a cappucino first, got our bearings, found a recommended and inexpensive hotel (a GREAT relief after the expense of Venezia) and reserved a room.

When we checked out the bathroom, Neil commented that there was no shower. I walked the three flights down the stairs to the reception area, where the elderly woman who registered us was dismayed, in Italian, and I couldn’t quite understand her answer to my question about the “doccia” (shower). Finally, Neil had an idea, we trudged back up the three flights of stairs, and there, between the bidet and the sink, on the wall, were two water handles and above them, a shower head. No enclosure, no special spot for the shower, just a drain in the floor.

We encountered a shower like this occasionally on our early trips to Italy, and it always took us one good soaking to realize that before we turned the water on, ALL the towels, toilet paper, and anything on the countertops had to be REMOVED from the room or they too would get a shower. That problem solved, we returned to our car, to drive it to an overnight lot at the other end of the city.

Now Urbino is a beautiful hilltown with 15,000 permanent residents and 22,000 college students. Can you imagine the energy in a place like this? Beautiful palaces, churches, piazzas built perhaps 600 years ago, and the energy of 22,000 young people, happily studying in this amazing environment! I wish I were 20 again, for specifically this reason. Otherwise . . . it was too hard to be that age and I wouldn’t want to repeat the experience!

We wandered through the streets, got to the hotel again and shed our bags, and went into the ristorante attached to the Hotel. Antipasti, pasta, lamb (agnello), panna cotta for dessert, and a delicious wine called Lacrima d’Morro d’Alba (The tears of Morro d’Alba). Deep purple, rich fruit flavor, with a unique austerity underneath that was so different from any other wine I have ever tasted.

We sat next to a student and her parents during dinner, and began a bit of a chat. She had a touch of English, I had my primitive Italian, Neil and the mother kept quiet, and the father asked me question after question, carefully, slowly (for an Italian, this is a lesson in EXTREME restraint!) and in fairly simple language, so I could understand most of it. Between my half-assed Itali-english responses and the daughter’s matched mixture, we had the kind of interaction I could NOT have had without that two weeks of language school in Firenze. If I never learn another word of Italian, I will be grateful for that experience and several like it in the following days.

Early to bed, after a long day of driving, and the prospect of three more days of automobile exploration throughout this “wild” region.

More tomorrow.

were at their best yesterday. We had an absolutely spectacular day in Venice. Bright blue sky, sunny, and about 70-75 degrees . . . my perfect weather. Neil and I found a laundromat in a less touristy part of town, and were led right to the door by a local old couple, who then told us about a wonderful little restaurant out of the mainstream, which we will go to tonight with Nina and Scott. We wandered that neighborhood, found authentic mask shops, not the schlock, and did our laundry in between exploring the tiny tiny side streets along the canals in that part of Venice.

After the laundry, we met our group of 7 other friends (a great traveling group, along with the others who were with us in Sicily). I had arranged a Venice Tour of the Doges Palace, Bridge of Sighs and Church of San Marco for them. Got them started, joined Neil back at the hotel and headed across the Accademia Bridge to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection Museum, a wonderful little gallery with all the usual 20th century suspects . . . Magritte, Pollack, Picasso, Kandinsky, etc. And a beautiful sculpture garden.

Back with the group to do some eating in little holes in the wall near the grand canal, and then four of us went to a Vivaldi Four Seasons concert in the Chisa San Vidal, performed by 7 enthusiastic string musicians, all young Italian people. The experience was the highlight of our week, I think, though we’ve had many exceptional days of traveling.

Tomorrow we leave for LeMarche with a car, and will wander that region until Saturday. Unfortunately, I haven’t loaded my photos from Venice and the last part of Sicily, so can’t post them here, but I will do it when we get to LeMarche.

Ciao.

Woodswoman