Birthdays and Hill Towns

The first thing I want to say is that today is Bill’s mother’s birthday. She is a devout reader of our blog, so I want to wish her the happiest birthday ever! She will be the first family member we will see when we arrive in the United States, so she will be the first one to see our dirty clothes and hear our crazy stories. We both wish you a very splendid day. We love you Mom!

Speaking of splendid days, we all had one yesterday. Our plan was to take it somewhat easy since Bec and TR are leaving this morning for an overnight trip to the Cinque Terre (which will include that beautiful, but difficult, hike from Monterossa to Vernazza on that cliffside overlooking the Mediterranean). We didn’t really end up taking it all that easy, but we certainly did have a great time.

We started out the morning at the grocery market. TR, who loves to cook, was really eager to visit a typical Italian grocery store, especially since I have talked so much about them. He wasn’t disappointed. He got the whole experience. While Bec and I shopped, he walked around and shot photos and was awestruck by the grand displays of Tuscan meats and different wines. The huge display of olive oils really tickled him. Bec’s favorite, I think, was the chicken package that included the head (with comb) and feet. I guess the Italian cooks would use it for soups or stews.

After we took our groceries back home, we set off on our little adventure, which was to include visits to what I think are two of Italy’s finest hill towns. I warned them that they would be trekking uphill, so we were all prepared.

Our first stop was Cortona. Bill and I had been there earlier on this trip. Cortona is just on the edge of Tuscany, very near Umbria. Prior to becoming well known as the town featured in Under the Tuscan Sun, it was known for its Etruscan ruins. The Etruscans lived several hundred years before the birth of Christ, so we’re talking some really old stuff. We ate lunch at a nice little place owned by a former Brit and his wife (who speaks perfect English). We each had a plate of pasta. Bill and Bec had penne with Bolognese sauce, TR had gnocchi with the same sauce, and I had spaghetti with pesto. Bec considered the pesto, but I reminded her that she MUST have pesto tonight in Vernazza, since the Cinque Terre is very well known for their outstanding beautiful basil.

After a short walk around the town, and a stop for some gelato (Bec shares my conscientiousness about taking care of our calcium!), we drove to Montepulciano.

I really love everything about Montepulciano, but one of my favorite things is the sight of it as you drive up to it. The town balances itself on top of a hill, so you can see it from a distance. The duomo is perched at the very top of the hill, so the town really makes you work for your view of the piazza.

As you enter the town, your eyes are met with a view of pretty shops selling Tuscan food products and, most prominently, the wonderful red wine from the region. We decided to hike up the hill and buy our food and souvenirs on our way down. You start thinking strategically very quickly when you are climbing these hills. We did make a quick stop at the underground caverns of a wine cellar located right in town where they store many barrels of their wines. Then we began our trek.

The Piazza Grande is a very pretty area, and the views as you walk up and up and up are extraordinarily pretty. Unfortunately, the area was either being prepared for or cleaned up from a concert of some kind, so its appearance was somewhat impacted.

After looking at the duomo, we walked downhill back into the town. Bill found a stairway that made our walk down much quicker than the walk up. We stopped at several stores and bought some nice little kitchen items, and Bill and TR each bought a bottle of wonderful Montepulciano Vino Nobile that we selected after tasting a number of different kinds at the same store that had the underground cellar.

Our trip home was slow and took much longer than we had hoped. Bill sat in front and navigated while TR drove. There was a lot of traffic, and the Italian roads are really not fun to drive or to try to figure out, so we got somewhat lost. At one point, TR asked Bill, “Now where do I go?” as he approached a traffic circle. It was not comforting to the two passengers in back to hear the navigator reply, “Beats the hell out of me.”

Bless TR, because it was not an easy drive, especially since the sun was shining in his eyes for much of the time. The backseat passengers were also not thrilled to hear him say at one point, “I can’t see a damn thing.”

But we made it back safely and ate a very late dinner of grilled chicken and ravioli prepared with butter and sage. We felt quite European as we finished our dinner near 10.

Celebrating Medieval Italy

After a quick stop for cappuccino at our little pastacceria, the four of us took the funiculore up the hill to Certaldo Alto to attend the 9 o’clock Mass at the little church up there. The church is very tiny, and Mass is mostly attended by the old people who still live up on top of the hill. So I’m sure they wondered who we were (“who are those Americano whippersnappers?”), but we’re used to that by now.

Giovanni Bacaccio, the Renaissance writer from this area in whom Bec is so interested, is buried in the floor of that church. Bec, therefore, was very excited to be sitting in the little pew right next to his burial place. After Mass, we stopped back at the pastacceria and had a pastry along with another cup of coffee.

We had awakened to overcast skies, but by time we finished our goodies, the skies were getting really dark. We had no sooner gotten home then it began to pour. We hadn’t planned an extremely busy day, but we also didn’t relish the thought of spending the entire day inside the little Priest’s House. Luckily for us, after we had all finished a little picnic lunch and taken a short nap, the rain stopped and the skies became mostly clear.

There is a small town 20 kilometers or so from here called Monteriggioni. It sits up on a hill (a familiar refrain, no?) and is an exceptional example of an old medieval fortress town. So it’s hard to imagine a better venue for a festival featuring knights, sword fighting, and war battles. Sunday was the last day of the three-day medieval festival, and we decided it sounded like fun.

We got to Monteriggioni about 4. The walls were open, but they were still just setting up. We walked around the town for a bit, then stopped at a café for a glass of wine. By time we finished, some of the events had begun.

After watching some of the goings-on (not necessarily easy since it is all, of course, in Italian), we followed the procession down the hill to a big field where a battle between the Siennese and the evil Florentines was recreated. Though the battle was explained to the crowd, the narration was in Italian. From the best of our observations, however, the Siennese appeared to lose the battle. TR observed that he has to root for the Siennese at everything until Thursday, when they plan on visiting Florence, and then he has to root for the Florentines. It’s hard to keep up.

After the battle, we battle-weary travelers trekked back up the hill to the little café where we had enjoyed our wine. We beat everyone else, and were quickly seated in a little garden area. We all shared a couple of pastas for a first course and some roast pork for a second course, and, of course, a bottle of vino rosso. All delicious, as usual.

We left the restaurant just in time to watch one of the oddest events of the night. A parade of people came into the piazza, apparently portraying the devil and his helpers (five or six women with painted faces). They put on a morality play that was very scary. The dialog was in Italian, but you frankly didn’t have to know Italian to be frightened by the scary costumes and makeup. The actors (if that’s what they were; I’m frankly concerned they might actually be devils!) were on stilts and they didn’t even try to tone down their actions and facial expressions and voices to make it less frightening for the children. For a time, we weren’t sure what was happening. Bill predicted, correctly as it turned out, that a religious figure would show up that would overcome the devils. The play, which went on for a very long time, ended with the she-devils ripping the arms off of Satan. All quite macabre.

For a short time, we watched what we guess was a comedic act that featured two men torturing an old woman. Something must have been lost in the translation (or lack thereof), because the crowd thought the act was hilarious while we couldn’t quite find the humor in it. Bec pointed out that this festival was probably very realistic and typical of the type of activities that took place during the medieval period. In a million years, you wouldn’t see this type of thing at a festival in the United States. I said if they brought out the roosters for cock fighting, I was out of there!

The evening concluded with some sword fighting that was really entertaining. We think the fights were supposed to be between Siena and Florence, though we don’t know that for a fact. But the fighters were very skilled and we enjoyed watching them very much.

The festival concluded with a fireworks display, but as it was 11:15 by this time, we decided to leave before the crowd. Bec was surprised at how late it was for the many children attending this festival, especially on a Sunday night. We know it was very late for us old folks.

Siena Saturday

We got a rather early start, especially when you consider there were four people getting ready, with lots of talking and laughter. But we were down at the pastacceria by 8 o’clock, pastry and coffee in hand. By 8:30 we were on the train on our way to Siena.

It was another hot day in Tuscany, so we just paced ourselves. Neither Bec nor TR had ever been to Siena, and it is one of our favorite towns in Italy. As you recall, last week they had run the Palio, so it was interesting to contrast Siena yesterday from Siena a few days ago when it was filled with festivity. They had the Campo cleaned up and, except for some dirt between the stones, there was hardly any sign that the race had been held. There was not nearly the display of flags for the contrade as there had been when we were there the day of the race, but you saw a few Porcupine Contrada flags peppered around, indicating they were the winners of the race.

We walked around a bit, and, after a quick stop for coffe, we visited the big church, or what they call the Duomo, as well as the museum and bapistry. We saw a lot of beautiful art, with an emphasis on Siennese art. Siennese art has a very distinct look to it, being sort of dark and rich, and of course, nearly always religious in nature.

In addition to the Duomo, we also visited the Church of San Dominico. That’s always a must-see for me, because who wouldn’t want to see the head of St. Catherine of Siena? I’m telling you, it’s just not a day in Italy if you don’t see a body part of a saint. While poor Catherine’s body is in a church in Rome, her head made it back to her hometown.

We stopped for lunch at a restaurant along one of the side streets near the Duomo. We shared wine and each enjoyed a plate of pasta. TR had pasta with wild boar sauce, Bec and Bill had the thick homemade pasta noodles they called pici, with a meat sauce, and I had ravioli with that same meat sauce. It was all very good.

TR loves to shop, and he was very clear on what kinds of things he was looking for. Siena has a large number of shops that sell beautiful examples of Italian pottery, and he knew he wanted to buy some things in one of those shops. It was fun to watch him get excited about seeing all of the pretty pieces of ceramic. However, Bill doesn’t enjoy shopping (and that’s putting it mildly), so I had been smart enough to suggest that we take two cars to the train station in Certaldo so that Bill and I could come home when his head seemed ready to explode, and TR and Bec could take their time and shop at their leisure.

Bill and I got home around 4 o’clock, and we went to the market and picked up some things for dinner and for Sunday, since the stores will all be closed. The other two got home probably around 5:30 or 6, with some purchases in hand and many more waiting to be shipped.

We fixed up a plate of prosciutto and salami, along with some cheese and fresh fruit, and I made a salad out of the wonderful green beans, tomatoes, basil, and capers. We enjoyed that cold meal, with some red wine, outside on the patio below the bell tower.

Hair Cut

With my sister here to provide moral support, I finally got up the nerve to walk into a hair place and ask them to cut my hair. Between sign language, my rudimentary Italian, and one of the hair stylist’s rudimentary English, I got what I consider a successful haircut. I told the woman who spoke a little English what I want and she would translate to the woman who cut my hair. It was quite comical, actually, and provided them quite a show. My fear was that I would end up with the puffy hair favored by the elderly Italian women. That, thankfully, didn't happen.

We had a wonderful day together. The four of us drove into Certaldo and had our morning pastry and coffee. We then took the funiculore (pictured here) up to Certaldo Alto, which is the old part of the town that is up on the top of the hill. The view from Certaldo Alto is wonderful.

Bill and I had noticed that Certaldo was proud of the fact that it was the home of someone named Giovanni Boccacio, and his home was in Certaldo Alto. I mentioned that fact to my sister, who is a high school English teacher (or was until she recently became vice principal of faculty at the school in which she has taught for many years). Well. It turns out he was a very important writer of the Renaissance period. So my sister was very excited to visit all things Boccacio, and I was happy to learn something new today.

At about 11 o’clock, we decided to stop and have a glass of beer or wine. We chose a little restaurant that overlooked the valley below, with endless fields of – you guessed it, grapevines and olive trees. The restaurant had a lovely garden area that had a hedge of rosemary and beautiful flowers. We enjoyed our wine and beer coupled with our conversation, until such time that we noticed we were hungry. We then ordered lunch. We shared spaghetti pomodoro, spaghetti carbonara, and a plate of Tuscan meats.

After that, we went down the hill. As we were walking to the car, Bill spotted the hair place, and you know the rest of the story.

Bec and TR took a nap, and then drove back into San Gimignano to visit some of the shops that were closed yesterday when we finished eating. Bill and I decided to lay low. We fixed some prosciutto and melon when it cooled down. The other two had dinner in san Gimignano, and came home with some nice kitchen items they bought as souvenirs. We sat out on our patio, and Bill and TR entertained us with stories of college pranks.

Catching Up

My sister and brother-in-law from Washington D.C. arrived safely yesterday, although their plane arrived two hours late into Rome. They had a bit of trouble finding our place, but we finally connected around 6 o’clock.

We got their suitcases into the house, and then we drove into San Gimignano. Bill and I had made reservations at the Trattoria Chiribiri, a tiny little restaurant that has some of the best Tuscan food in the area. We all shared a variety of pastas, including a wide pasta with the wild boar sauce that is very typical of the San Gimignano area. We also shared some meat dishes, and of course some red wine. It was all very yummy.

Though by the time we finished dinner, most of the stores were closed, we walked around the town a bit. San Gimignano is one of my favorite towns in all of Italy. It is a hill town, so it involves a bit of climbing, but then what else is new? It is most well known for its towers. At one time, it has more towers than any other town in Italy. The towers make it especially pretty when looking at it from a distance. Because we had eaten wild boar for dinner, we couldn’t resist taking the photos of the rather ugly animals in this store window. They are, of course, stuffed. By that time of the night, and following our big dinner and gelato, so were we!

We got home, and they got settled into the little mansard area up above. The area has two little twin beds, and you literally can’t stand up straight because the ceilings are so low (unless of course you’re only three feet high). As you can see from the photo, my sister and brother-in-law will probably walk hunchbacked for eternity after spending 10 days crouching over.

We will take it rather easy today since they will still be jet lagged, though they purport to have slept well last night. We will likely just show them around our little town of Certaldo, and then they might drive again into San Gimignano to visit the stores when they are open.

I have one funny Italian story before I sigh off:

We were having lunch in the Trattoria Chiribiri in San Gimignano the other day (we had to try it out in preparation for my sister and brother-in-law) and an American sitting in the next table told the waiter that he had tried the regional white wine, Vernaccia di San Gimiagnano, and wondered whether there was a regional red wine that he could try. Well, San Gimignano sits smack dab in the Chianti region and is close to the Chianti Classico, Brunello di Montalcino and Vino Nobile de Montepulciano regions. We wondered what the waiter thought about the American’s question. Perhaps the guest had been dropped into the restaurant from a spaceship and had not noticed the numerous stores in San Gimiagnano which were selling countless fiascos of local Chianti wine or the signs around the area for the Chianti road which passes local wineries.

Family Ties

When I post this blog, my sister and brother-in-law will be in the air, probably close to landing in Rome. I expect that her visit will give this reluctant traveler a lift, and an opportunity to see Italy with a fresh perspective.

Bill and I left our home on April 26. That is almost three months ago. We have been on a cruise ship, traveled on trains, roared down autostradas, driven cautiously down steep, narrow, winding roads, and walked literally thousands of steps. We have slept in every kind of hotel bed in Spain, France, Austria, and Italy, and visited towns in those countries as well as Germany. We have eaten every kind of food you can imagine (including, as my loyal readers will recall, that famous French sausage), and laughed and cried over every kind of situation you can think of. We have been communicating (or attempting to) in French, German, and Italian for three months.

But my blog is not called the Reluctant Traveler for nothing. Every day of this journey has been a dichotomy of joy and distress for me. While I have relished the gift of this adventure, at the same time I have missed my family and friends. While we’ve been gone, we have had a granddaughter born, our son has purchased and moved into a house that we have never seen, my daughter-in-law is about to give birth to another grandchild, our grandkids have been swimming, playing tennis, getting new haircuts, and growing taller.

And we have a month to go. Well, 27 days actually. And we (or to be honest I must say I) need a shot in the arm. It will be wonderful to see the beauty of this country and the eccentricities of its people through some new eyes. My sister and brother-in-law will be with us for 10 days. We will be able to show them some of the things we have seen and tell them some of the things we have learned. Their visit will be a boost that will likely last until the end of this month, when we will take off for the final days of our trip to France, and then head home.

Lucca

Our European beds are going to kill us. When Europeans come to the United States, they must wonder how we can possibly sleep on such soft mattresses. Every bed we have slept in during our trip since we got off the ship has been extremely hard. As a result, both of us are suffering from hip soreness. No wonder we see all these old folks walking around with canes.

Tuesday we drove to Lucca to find the English language library and to drop off some of our books. Much to our surprise, we were able to find it quite easily even though it wasn’t right in Lucca, but instead in a little suburb a bit outside of the town. The librarian was delighted to have our donation, though this time around it was mostly travel books.

After we dropped off the books, we drove into Lucca, parked just outside the old wall, and walked into the old town.

Lucca has one of the most well preserved old walls in Italy. It also is somewhat unique in that you can actually walk around the entire city on the top of the wall. Now, don’t picture us teetering on the edge of a little skinny wall. The Luccanese knew how to build a fortress, and the wall is extremely wide. In fact, Bill read somewhere that many years ago they used to have car races on top of the wall. In this photo, I am standing on top of the wall and you can see how wide it is.

There are no cars now. You just see people strolling with baby strollers, holding hands, and many, many bicycles. And unlike some walls, this one has survived in its entirety and goes around the entire town.

Because this fortress was so well built and apparently quite impenetrable, we checked the Internet to see just who it was that Lucca was fortifying itself against. It turns out the wall was built between 1400 and 1600, and they were protecting themselves against those ol’ nasty Florentines. Florence was apparently the enemy of everyone in Tuscany. However, in the case of Lucca, they never actually had to use the wall to protect itself. The Florentines were so put off by the wall that they never actually attacked it.

Lucca also has one of the interesting towers in Italy. While not particularly high, you can tell from the photo that it has trees growing right on top of the tower. Bill climbed the tower years ago when we visited Lucca with my sister and my niece. This time he just took the photo.

We had lunch at a restaurant in the Roman amphitheater. I had a hearty Tuscan soup that I recalled having the last time. Bill had pizza that he claimed was the best he’s had in Italy thus far. He pretty much says that every time, but I must admit, this was particularly good.

After lunch, we walked around most of the wall, and the part we didn’t walk on the wall, we walked down below to get to our car. Our drive home was uneventful.

We did observe two rather funny things. At one point, traffic on the autostrada slowed down, and nearly stopped. After finally getting up to the situation causing the backup, we found that a road crew had blocked one entire lane of the highway (a four-lane highway, two lanes each way). The reason? There was a man sweeping the highway, not with a street sweeper, but with a broom.

The second funny thing almost takes the prize for the most amazing thing I’ve seen in Italy. As we were driving down the highway at 130 kilometers per hour, or about 78 mph, we passed a man driving a semi tractor-trailer with his left leg hanging out the window of the truck. I’m frankly not sure how you even physically do that, but I’m certainly not going to try to find out while roaring down the autostrada!

On Thursday, my sister and brother-in-law are coming to visit. Yipee! We are both very excited to see them. They will spend 10 days in Tuscany with us, and finish off in Paris.