Mea Culpa

Why is it that every time I vow to be more timely in my postings, I fail miserably and fall farther and farther behind?

The Lovely Bride's little garden is flourishing and little green tomatos and tiny okra are beginning to grow. The basil of varying types makes me dream of Italian cooking every time I brush past, and I'm already thinking of expanding her space soon. So long as we remember to give it a drink occasionally, everything stays happy & green.

We just returned from a week at Lake of the Ozarks with family. One daughter and son-in-law gave us a ride up, and all we had to do was share the cost of gas. Did I mention they hauled their 28 foot boat from Texas to Missouri? Even though the gas mileage suffered, it was well worth the trouble. They had the freedom to blast around the lake when the mood struck them, drop in on little lakefront restaurants, and laze around quiet sheltered coves while their nieces practiced their swimming skills.

The oldest daughter and her hubby came with the three Grand Girls in tow. The oldest, Sarah, certainly showed an affinity for the water and spent every moment she could in one boat or the other. When she wasn't swimming or boating, she was buttering up her Uncle Steven in hopes he would take her out again. Amazing how good they can be when they want something!

The twins are just past 2, full of energy, and masters at getting into trouble. We were preparing for bed our first night after 14 hours on the road, when wails echoed from the little girls' room. Ellie managed to fall(tripped, pushed,??) and tried to break the frame of the sofa bed with her head. Lots of blood and tears, so off to the ER we go. Fortunately, it was a slow night, and she was seen immediately. Less than an hour saw her evaluated, get a CT of her head, and then have her forehead stuck back together using some industrial strength superglue. Home and to bed by 1:00am.

Why we liked it!

The LB and I had a wonderful time on our recent trip to northern Italy. It gave us a much needed escape from our normal lives, and allowed us to visit and experience a new part of the world. We saw artworks, cities and cathedrals previously only seen in books, movies or on television. History came alive as we walked through the narrow streets and alleys of the Veneto and Tuscany. But it was people, and the personal connections we made with them, who made our trip truly come to life.
In Venice, “our” gondolier took us on a trip through the canals, pointed out the sights and spoke of the historic people who made Venice what it is today. After our ride, it seemed we bumped into him several times each day. We would be sitting at our neighborhood canal-side café sipping espressos; he would row past with a load of tourists, and give the LB a hearty wave and big grin with nary a pause in his spiel. Walking to dinner across one of the endless bridges, we would hear a “buona sera” and he would go gliding under the bridge on his way to giving more tourists an experience of a lifetime.
American tourists are not common in the little hilltop town of Chiusdino, and most of the inhabitants viewed us as if we had green skin and had just climbed out of a spaceship. Carla went out of her way to make us feel welcome and encouraged us in our attempts to speak Italian. She ran the local fruit, vegetable and wine shop, so mostly we only needed to point to indicate what we wanted. We were able to communicate enough during our daily visits to learn she had studied English in school many years before, but hadn’t used it since. The day before we left, we had to go in just to say goodbye and let her know how much we appreciated getting to know her. All of this with her not speaking any English and us with no Italian.
When we first arrived in Florence, we felt we had arrived in a big city and might have trouble meeting people. The first time we went to catch the city bus to the historic town center, we realized that would not be an issue. We were standing at the stop, and a little old Italian lady walked up and launched into a monologue. She had talked for several minutes, when she finally noticed the blank looks and asked, “Capisca?” After we replied with shakes of our heads, she started up again. Apparently, she didn’t really care if we understood her, she just wanted to talk. By the time our bus came, we knew she was a widow and her husband had been dead for many years, she had been a teacher and had been forced to retire after thirty years because she hit the mandatory retirement age, and she really missed her home in Naples, but was living in Florence because of her son. Apparently, there was enough crossover between my college Spanish and her Italian for me to catch the general drift, but not enough to be able to converse. She blushed a bit when I asked if I could take her photo, but acted pleased.
This is what made our trip special, these and others we met and got to know, if only for a few minutes. They turned what could have been a sterile romp from one museum to the next into a human experience.

The Home Stretch

We took our leave of Chiusdino, and headed into the hills of Tuscany. With several extra hours before we were expected in Florence, we wound our way through the small towns located on the back roads, until we came to the hill top town of San Gimignano. This was a beautiful break in our drive, and gave us an opportunity to sample more gelato. Little in the town is level and you seem to be climbing up or down hill no matter where you are going. There are a few cars mixed with the mostly pedestrian traffic to keep you on your toes, but most walk to get around.

Arriving in Florence instantly reminded us we were in a sizable city, rather than some small Tuscan village. Lots of traffic with busy streets and tightly contested parking. We stayed in a hotel between the airport and the historic downtown area, which required a bus ride each way, giving us a chance to meet some of the local inhabitants and see parts of the city not included on the usual tour routes. We only had two full days in Florence and knowing that some of the important museums are closed on Monday, we were determined to visit the “must see” attractions on Sunday. Primarily this meant the Accademia museum, which has the original sculpture of Michelangelo’s “David”. We hopped an early morning bus downtown, and were in line by 8:45, and quickly were allowed into the cool recesses of the gallery. I had always imagined the statue being slightly larger than life, and was taken aback by its fourteen foot height. How was Michelangelo able to look at a block of marble and envision this beauty hidden inside? We wandered the other galleries in the museum, but came back to this artistic magnet again and again. Some had suggested we eavesdrop on tour guides as they discussed exhibits, but there were so many holding forth simultaneously, we quickly tuned them out and felt as though we were completely alone with this wonder from the Renaissance. Emerging into the sunlight, we discovered the waiting line now reached down the block and around the corner. The Duomo was next on our list, followed by the street market outside the church of San Lorenzo. The market gave the LB the opportunity for some unrestricted shopping before we headed back to our hotel. The next day we visited other attractions in Florence; the Boboli Gardens, Ponte Vecchio, Galileo Science Museum, the Loggia, and the Piazza della Repubblica were some of the high points. With the temperature reaching 38.5C (101F) our enthusiasm faded rather quickly. Sadly, although refreshing, the gelato was not up to the standard set for us in Siena.

Interacting with people, both locals and other tourists, was what made our trip so special to us and kept it from being just a “sightseeing” excursion. In Florence, we found a restaurant where our waitress went out of her way to take care of us. In this little “Mom & Pop” place her husband did the cooking, their son ran the pizza oven, while she waited tables and took care of all the customers. She spoke passable English, but we still had some problems deciphering some of the listings on the menu. With her help, we had some wonderful dishes, along with an extremely pleasant atmosphere. The next evening, we decided we would go back again, and discovered she had brought her Italian-English dictionary from home, so she would be able to better help us just in case we came back. This kind of personal contact was what made this trip memorable for us, and will have us getting ready for our next adventure.

Real Football

Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Out and about early this morning. Headed over to the abbey to see if we can pickup tickets for the Siena opera, which is to take place in the ruined abbey tomorrow night. We get to see Il Flauto Magico, by some fellow named Mozart. See...and y’all thought I was just a country bumpkin with no dam couth.
After getting our tickets, we hit the road to do some cruising and see what this part of Italy holds. We headed off towards Grosseto until my Lovely Bride announced she had found an “interesting road” on the map for us to take. I made the turn and the “interesting road” turned into a gravel one laner through the local equivalent of a national forest. The promised turnoff for a ruined castle never appeared, but after an hour in second gear, we at least returned to a paved road. It can be the little things which sometimes mean the most.
Rained in this afternoon. We came back to the house to take a nap and hand wash a few things, so naturally it started raining right after the LB got the clothes hung out. Rain kept up through time to go find dinner. There’s nothing quite like driving in the rain on twisting mountain roads in the dark, with no idea of where you are going. We ended up at a ristorante named Il Palazzetto, not too far from our house. As we arrived, the pre-game festivities for the France –Italia Futbol match are underway on the projection TV which was moved to project on an entire wall. Dinner was memorable in that we both managed to forget our phrase books, and thus were at the mercy of the non-English speaking staff. We have no idea what we ate, but it was very, very good. As the game began, the mood in the place ramped up quickly. Food and service became secondary as the Italians and French fought it out, with the local boys demonstrating their superior ball control techniques early in the match, and with the room erupting from time to time in celebration of Italian good moves, or French faux pas. As we made our exit after the first period, with Italy leading 1-0, the LB asked me why college football can’t be that exciting. Nearly an hour of non-stop action, a half-time for the Band, followed by more full speed action. This instead of the interminable starts and stops for first downs, team time outs, media timeouts, official time outs, etc, which drag an hour of playing time out to 2½ - 3 hours. Now she has a mission and wants A&M to find an Italian coach to fire them up. Maybe she is on to something.

Lazy Day

Monday, June 16, 2008
Lazy day around the house, and then went to town for some shopping. The LB tossed some fresh stuff together and came up with a wonderful zuppa di pasta e fagioli. We keep feeling jet lagged after the 3 hour train ride from Venice (hey, we’re Aggies), and the soup was just the thing to help.
During the day we wandered about Chiusdino a little more. We visited San Galgano’s birthplace which has been a number of things since, including a jail when Napoleon was in charge of Italy. There was also the Church of the Visitation of the Archangel Michael, commemorating when he appeared to San Galgano and threw down the gauntlet, so to speak, of giving up warring and turning to church work. Or maybe it remembers when Mike visited Galgano’s mommy who was barren up ‘til then to let her know she was going to conceive…it gets confusing, especially since everything is in Italian. Anyway, the church has the reliquary holding San Galgano’s head tucked away in a corner. Siena had it for several hundred years, but gave it back to Chiusdino in the 1970’s when they couldn’t come up with any practical use for a slightly used skull.

The Sword in the Stone - Really

Sunday, 16 June 2008
A late start today, but we only went as far as the Abbey of San Galgano. San Galgano is the Chiusdino favorite son as well as patron saint, a young man born here who turned from the life of a soldier to the church. He had a vision of the Archangel Michael, and to show his resolve plunged his sword into a stone on a hilltop within sight of our house. Later, in the 1100’s the church built an Abbey nearby and a small chapel over the stone where only the sword hilt and a short portion of the blade is visible. Some say this is the original source of the Arthurian legend, while others hold that Galgano was only a copycat. At any rate it makes for an entertaining story and having the Abbey and chapel close at hand help us to feel we are enmeshed in the history of this place. One day this week, we plan to visit his casa natale in downtown Chiusdino. Hey, nobody can say we’re not having an exciting time on our vacation.
After a week in Venice, it is exciting to just be able to see and enjoy some of the little joys of nature. At S. Galgano’s, the honey bees were everywhere, pollinating the vineyards, as well as flitting to the beautiful flowers which we saw all around. We’ve found that driving in the early afternoon is much less congested as many take the Italian version of a siesta, allowing us to slow down and leave the windows open smelling everything in the outdoors. Right now, I’m sitting under an arbor in front of the house, enjoying the sun and breeze, listening to chickens at the next little farmhouse over, as well as constant birdsongs.
It seems our biggest challenge since arriving in Tuscany is getting ourselves on the right schedule. W e seem to sleep later here, have a little breakfast, and then head out to see what the day holds for us, just about the same time the local restaurants and stores are closing for siesta. I don’t like to be out driving after dark on these little roads, so we are trying to find somewhere to eat long before any normal person; i.e., Italian, would even think of dining. Last night we found a spot on the road to Siena which looked interesting. It was about 6:30pm, all we could get was pizza, and they stuck us in the back room along with all the other crazy tourists who were eating at that ungodly hour.

Thursday, June 12, 2008
Memos to self:
1. Next trip to Venice, bring slipper socks. Stone floors get really cold!
2. Don’t characterize the lovely bride (LB) as being a grump when she is gastronomically challenged. For some reason, she finds this objectionable and becomes grumpy.

Today was the day we had set aside for exploring the lagoon islands. At the Fondamente Nove vaporetto stop, we purchased 48 hour passes so we can hop on and off as much as we want between now and when we head for the train station Saturday morning. We caught the 41 boat for Murano, and headed for the glass museum, with the LB keeping her eyes open for souvenir possibilities along the way. The museum gives a pretty good overview of the history of glassmaking in the lagoon, dating back to the time of Christ. We headed out to do some serious shopping on the way back to the vaporetto, stopping at several likely looking shops. One was promising, even though it was a little up-scale for us, but the staff sat and visited with each other and completely ignored their customers. So even though I had found what I thought I wanted, we left in search of a more hospitable shopping environment. Sure enough, about half way to the vaporetto stop, we found a much smaller shop where the owner was a young Italian woman who spoke to us in passable English, let us move pieces to better appreciate the colors, and advised us about the high costs of shipping items to the US. It wasn’t any real difference in merchandise quality, but rather her attitude and personable approach which caused us to buy in her shop.
We cut short our cruise around the lagoon after my bum leg started giving me trouble. There was an unmarked step-down in the museum which I missed, my knee made an interesting and not altogether natural sound, so Burano and Torcello will just have to wait until our next trip to the Veneto.
We returned to our apt too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so we rummaged in the fridge and munched on leftovers to keep up our strength. We keep picking up cantaloupe, prosciutto, cheese of varying types, bread, fresh fruit and so on whenever we are wandering the back alleys, so there has been no real threat of losing weight while on holiday. Satisfied for the moment, we are going to rest up to prepare ourselves for the real meal of the day this evening, whatever it may be. If we ate like this at home, we would feel very, very guilty. Here our gluttony is just part of showing our appreciation for cultural diversity, and it is the least we can do. Alleluia!

Same day, just later.

I had forgotten how restorative naps can be. After our little snack, Susan worked on her blog for a bit, and I stretched out to rest my eyes…just for fifteen minutes or so. Several hours later, I roused up enough to realize I needed to feed my lovely bride before she started getting cranky again. We headed for a bar we had heard about which advertised live jazz, as well as decent food. On arrival, we found it had been taken over by a gaggle of foreigners, and ‘twas a jumping joint. After a brief consultation we elected to search for a quieter venue.
We wandered toward San Marco and ended up in the piazza. Amazing the difference between mid-day and 6:00pm. There were still people around the square, but most of them were trying to leave and get back to hotels or cruise ships. The museums and Basilica were closed, so the only thing to do was stroll about and people watch. We found an Italian seafood restaurant a block or so off the square, and settled in for a five course meal. Baby octopi, sweet & sour sardines, spaghetti with mussels, sautéed prawns, fried squid, shrimps, and minnows were just some of the interesting things crawling across our plates. While eating, two large groups of American school kids came into the restaurant: one extremely noisy, loud and northeastern in dialect; the second was quieter, more tastefully attired, and sat at three tables close to us. Susan & I kept trying to guess where they were from by their dress and behavior. Ruled out anywhere northern, especially after half of them ordered coca-colas, and they weren’t tanned enough to be from the west coast. Susan settled on Atlanta, based simply on the fact that the teacher leading the group and several of the guys were wearing deck shoes with no socks (a la Lewis Grizzard). As we were leaving, I had to ask where they were from, and they were from Beaufort, South Carolina. One girl was excited to hear we were from Texas since she is going to SMU in the fall. It’s a small world, indeed.
We arrived back at Piazza S. Marco in time for the evening passeggiata, or stroll. The personality of the square was completely changed from mid-day. Orchestras were set up in front of cafes around the edges of the piazza, and took turns playing sets of different music. This ranged from Broadway show tunes to Vivaldi. If you feel like sitting, the café will charge you for the privilege of doing so with a 10 Euro coberto or cover charge. We opted to just stroll the square with the crowd of mostly locals, listening to first one and then another orchestra in the gathering darkness. After this mostly perfect evening, I did manage to get lost again on the way back to the apt. Some things never change.
Ciao for now.

A Slow Day?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Today we have started out on a calmer note. Traipsing over the Ponte S. Maria Nova, brought us to the campo and a canal-side café. Susan & I settled into a tavola with our cappuccinos, and undertook some serious people watching. She thinks she is able to pick out the different furriners by their demeanor and dress (or lack thereof). Even though I’m not as confident in ID’ing Germans, Frenchies, Americans, etc., it is easy to spot the Italians. They tend to dress much better and move through their world with an air of confidence lacking in all the others. Some of the tourists, Germans especially, attempt to make up for this lack of confidence with a display of arrogance which can make even the Americans look good in comparison.
Last night we found an Internet café with a wireless hot-spot which allowed us to clear out the emails and post some pictures to our blogs. It was your typical little hole-in-wall Italian pizza parlor, run by a family of Chinese. We did alright getting drinks and food ordered since we stuck to the basics…vino rosso and pizza. Some Germans came in after us, and were trying to order complex Italian dishes in German from the Chinese waitress…it was not pretty.
One surprise in Venice has been the multitude of dogs. If I had given it any thought before arriving, I probably would have predicted it to be a cat city, with little or no solid ground and everything covered with concrete. But we have yet to sight our first cat, and there is a constant swirl of puppies around us wherever we venture. Evidently, the Venetians take them along to work, and they stay throughout the day. All sizes, all breeds…there is no real pattern other than it seems every third resident has one, and the puppies tend to be very well trained. And there are no messes in the streets. As we sat this morning, we saw several doggies do their business, and their owners immediately swooped in, picked up the poo and dropped it in the trash, obviously a routine part of their day.
We headed out to go to the grocery which is just up the street (alleyway) from the apartment. We’ve only been past it a ½ dozen times so far, so naturally yours truly gets lost and we end up on the Strada Nuova, which is one of the largest shopping areas after Rialto. I tried to get Susan interested in doing a little light window shopping since we were already there, but all we picked up were some picture postcards. Since I had already been lost in that area several times on this trip, we quickly found the COOP store and picked up some necessities. Left there and stopped at the fruit stand to pick up some melon and cherries, then next door to the cheese shop for some asiago fresa to go with our prosciutto. In fact, Susan just brought me a plate with some cheese, prosciutto, pane and fresh cherries for a little snack to tide me over until time for espressos in an hour or two. Then we have to discuss where we’ll go for supper…I think seafood tonight. So eat your hearts out people, cause we’re sure not in Naruna anymore, are we Toto?

Getting Ready

Preparations for our departure are beginning to take on a frantic feel. All the major issues (transportation, accommodations, etc.) have been resolved, just leaving the niggling little details to deal with. I am trying to maintain a deliberately low key approach to what I’ve discovered could be a frantic, panic-attack inducing psychological trauma. Early on it was clear I could easily be the weak link in our trip plans, never knowing when my less than perfect knee joints might bring all sightseeing efforts to an unexpected halt. With this in mind, we decided to approach our trip as an opportunity to spend some “quality time” in a few places, rather than undertaking a headlong dash down the boot of Italy, ducking into every museum and gift shop along the way. Opting to be in control of our time and activities, rather than turning all the planning and logistics over to a commercial tour operator was one of those difficult decisions we had to make as we first began to plan. Only time will tell whether this was really the right choice, but I bet we have a good time, anyway. After all, I’m going to the land of amore and exotic Italian food with my lovely child bride. What more could a fellow ask for?