Family weekend

I am so fortunate to have neighbors in Italy with whom I have spent many wonderful days. Last night I was invited to Pier Paolo and Claudia's house for dinner. Their adorable two-year-old Pietro spent a lot of time trying to get my attention and I had fun playing "Vigili di Fuoco" with him while Claudia made dinner. Claudia's dad, Silvio was at the house for dinner too. What a delightful man. It was his birthday the day before (68) and he was celebrating that and the fact he was the guy who bagged the 150 kilo wild boar that day. In Tuscany, this is about as good as it gets.

Dinner was very simple, but entirely Tuscan. A wheel of two-day old, runny pecorino as fresh as it can be and be able to form a wheel. It was purchased from a family down the street who make and sell cheese, but have no sign and do not advertise in any way. You just have to know that the Sodelli family makes very good cheese and go knock on the door. Then Claudia grilled Chianina steaks in the fireplace and served them drizzled with olive oil made from olives on his Pier Paolo's parents' property. Roasted potatoes and a green salad made up the sides. What a feast. Great wine too!

When I was leaving last night, Pier Paolo insisted that I come back for lunch today as his mother was bringing her homemade lasagne. How could I refuse? So at 12:30 I headed downstairs for my long (!) walk to see my vicini. Antonella and Gian-Giacomo, Pier Paolo's parents, were outside in the yard fawning over their only grandson so Claudia and I had a nice time to catch up and have a quiet Aperol Spritz together before everybody came back in for lunch. Pier Paolo was out hunting and eventually showed up in his camo and fluorescent clothes. I was delighted to see that Claudia had taken the cute holiday gifts I gave her yesterday--a set of holiday charms to decorate wine glasses, some funny Xmas cocktail napkins and a cute sweater and hat set to put on a wine bottle, and she had them all out and was using them for lunch. Antonella gushed over the wine charms, saying that she had never seen them before. I told them I would bring more next time I come to Italy.

Antonella's lunch was outstanding! Not only did she make the lasagne, she also made the pasta sheets. It was delicious! Then we had more of the young pecorino from the night before, a platter of excellent wild boar prosciutto, and a salad of avocado, apples, carrots, mangoes and celery in a citrus dressing. Antonella, who is a total trip--lots of fun--said she invented it.

I thought we were done, but then out came the brasato of beef with a side of cardoons roasted with tomatoes. Very nice.

After a meal of that size, I really wanted only to take a nap, but instead I drove to Rome and checked into my airport hotel. At this moment I am at the hotel bar having a nice glass of Chardonnay from Lazio with a bowl of cocktail peanuts. I have my ipad tuned to my URI basketball game and I have my headphones on.

I feel so honored to have been included in all the family activities this weekend. It's a very special thing to be welcomed happily (and fed very well) by my neighbors. They keep threatening to visit us in the States and I look forward to the chance to entertain them someday.

So another trip to Italy is in the books. Next stop Jamestown.

Ahhhh, a day at the spa

Me, dressed and ready for the baths: 

I decided to treat myself to a day at the Albergo le Terme Spa in Bagno Vignoni. Yesterday afternoon, on a whim, I walked into the spa to see if they had any free appointments on Saturday for "something, anything . . .full body . . . Whatever." The charming woman at the desk said there was an open spot at noon, then opened the spa services menu so I could select something. "What's your favorite?" I asked her and she steered me to the hour-long Relaxation Massage. Okay, I booked it.

Today I showed up at 10 and was given my locker key along with a complete kit of robe, towel, flip-flops and a striped bathing cap. I put on my swimsuit and proceeded to the thermal baths where I alternated between the cooler hydromassage jetted pool and the hot water baths. After an hour and a half I was very relaxed and "pruny."

I went upstairs to the treatment suites and was greeted by a perky, young Katarina, looking efficient and antiseptic in her white uniform. She led me to a two room suite where I was given a towel and a packet about the size of a tea bag. "Put on the underpants," she told me, motioning to the tea bag. Then left the suite while I prepared myself for the treatment.

I opened the packet and found what looked like a Kleenex, then I unfurled it further and discovered a paper thong. I studied it for a minute, not knowing which way it went on, then figured since it wasn't going to cover enough anyway, it didn't matter if it was on backwards. I'm glad I didn't have to blow my nose!

I followed directions to begin face down and covered some of my behind with the tea towel that came with the tea bag. I saw that I was laying on a sheet of plastic. When Katarina returned she began to "peel" me with a gritty, olive oil based scrub, which she rubbed on nearly every square inch of skin on my body--everything under the thong was off limits, but everything else was fair game--butt and breasts included. When she was done scrubbing, she told me to go into the adjoining bathroom to take a shower and remove the scrub. The oily scrub left my skin pink and glowing. I was given a new paper thong and told to head back to the table for part two. Part two was a thick, luxurious cream, that was spread and rubbed in everywhere. It was quite relaxing, once I got over the giggles about the thong. 

Here I am after:

After three hours of bathing, detox tea, and a fantastic exfoliating massage,  I am moister than I have ever been and free from joint pain and quite satisfied with my spa day.

Castiglione d'Orcia

Before we make any decisions, I decided to spend a few hours in CdO to check out the amenities. 

I took inventory of all the shops, restaurants and services and came up with the following list:

Two restaurants

pizzeria/bar

bakery

pharmacy

Tobacco/lottery/newspapers

Two small grocery shops

Coop supermarket

Two banks

Two churches

Post office

Barber

Hairdresser

Shoes

Women's clothing

Antiques

Auto repair

I had lunch at Osteria il Retrovino, one of the restaurants, which was quite good. The other, Trattoria il Cassero, Joe and I ate there a few years ago and really enjoyed the jovial owner/waiter. I walked through the Coop to check it out, then made a loop through the bakery because Joe insists that anyplace worth living in MUST have a cookie shop. I think he'll be quite pleased with this one.

Every half hour or so I went back to the house to see what path the sun was taking across the garden. I determined that the sun comes over the top of the Rocca ( oh, did I mention that the house backs up to the old fortress?) about 12:30 at this time of year, which means that it will arrive earlier in the summer. Looks like we'll have sun from late morning to late afternoon, which is great news.

So, I've done my scouting, filed my reports, and now . . . 

Shopping, day two

Linda, the agent who's been showing me around the Val d'Orcia for two days, is a gem. Efficient, on time, good driver, cheerful--everything one would want in a RE agent or a friend. I have enjoyed my time with her.

Yesterday we looked at six more houses, starting in Pienza with a townhouse owned by an American restaurant and hotel owner. The house had one nice feature--a great rooftop terrace, but the rest was a charmless pile of boxes.

Then in Montepulciano we looked at two more. One was very interesting and located on a relatively flat residential street and the other was actually two small apartments, next to each other, with a common entrance. They were both cute, but it was hard to visualize how one would live with two kitchens, and neither one was big enough to live in without the other. There was no outdoor space at all at either location. This has been the hardest thing to find.

After lunch we saw a small free-standing house in Montecchiello--too small and the town doesn't have any regular grocery shops. Then a very unattractive apartment with a large and beautiful garden in San Giovanni d'Asso. The garden had an olive grove that overlooked the castle on one end of the town, but the apartment was up four flights of stairs. Just not for us.

And then there was a cute house with a garden in Castiglione d'Orcia, which is the town just to the south of Bagno Vignoni. This place needs a little renovation, but it has a lot of potential and the town is extremely charming.

Here's a pic of the medeival piazza in Castiglione d'Orcia:

Here's the entrance to the house, under a grape-covered pergola:

Here's a view of the ground floor, which is kitchen/dining/sitting area:

This is the garden, which has nine olive trees, some grapes and roses:

Now Joe and I have to decide if this is "the one," or do we keep looking???

Stay tuned . . . .

Worn out from shopping

House shopping, that is.

In Tuscany, house hunting is a lot like mountain climbing. You park the car, climb three flights of stairs up to the street level,  then climb up a long hill, then climb four flights to get into the apartment. Then you reverse the process. Then repeat. Seven times.

I'm now sitting on my couch taking inventory of my body parts to see if there's anything that doesn't hurt. Okay, done. Nope. Everything hurts.

So today I saw two places in Montepulciano. One great and the other no so much. The link for the very nice place is here:

http://www.tuscanitas.com/en/townhouses/townhouses-in-montepulciano/1352-a522-apartment-for-sale-in-the-historical-centre-of-montepulciano.html

Then I saw two places in Pienza, both were rather sad looking--like someone's ancient grandmother lived there till she died and then the place was left unoccupied for several years. 

Here's one of the sad bathrooms:

Then we went to Radicofani and looked at three places--all of which needed a lot of work to make them presentable. I'm not sure I'm really up for a construction project.

It's amazing how often the most beautiful features of Tuscan homes--like chestnut-beamed ceilings, terracotta floors and bricked archways are covered up in some way. It's not unusual to go into a place with boxy, charmless spaces and hear: "Well, if you remove the ceiling you will find the beams," or "If you strip off the plaster, there's a stone wall underneath." Today I even encountered terracotta floors that had been painted--in red gloss! 

So while I did not hit the house hunting jackpot yet, I am not finished. There's another full day of shopping ahead and I am staying optimistic that I will find that pot of gold (with chestnut beams and terracotta floors) at some point.

Another holiday for the Montepulcinese and me

Today was a lovely sunny day in Montepulciano. Temps in the mid-50s and almost a spring-like feel in the air. Again the streets were crowded with families and revelers. At lunch time every restaurant had to put out the "Siamo Completa" (we are all booked up) sign after a while. I waited till late in the lunch period and then headed up the hill to one of my favorite places Gattavecchi Cantina. 

The place was still full when I sat down around 3 o'clock, but by the time I finished my delicious lunch of rare tagliata, salad and two delicious glasses of their riserva vino nobile, I was the last customer of the day.

I went home for a bit to recharge my batteries, but got excited when I heard drumming nearby. I put on my coat and headed back up the hill to see what was going on. 

Costumed revelers from the Gracciano  Contrada were tossing colorful flags in the Piazza delle Erbe. I had seen a poster earlier in the day that the contrada was having a medeival parade, a Mass at their contrada church, then a big communal supper at a nearby hall. 

The flag bearers continued their display, then all the costumed actors: the contrada king and queen and their court, all processed up the hill to the church for the mass. Everybody watching the spettacolo formed up behind them--me too-- and followed the beat of war drums and the waving of the flags. I felt like a local. It was fun!

At the piazza, the Christmas Market was in full swing. I saw my reflection in a window earlier today and decided that my gray coat and black beret looked drab so I planned to find myself a bright, Christmasy red scarf to add some color. Do you think I could find one? Not one red scarf in all the stalls. Sheesh!

While heading down the hill on Via Ricci, I came across a sign for a jazz concert at six o'clock. It was 6:10 but I went in and saw that the performance hadn't started yet. I bought a ticket and listened to the quartet play for an hour or so. They played some classic American jazz by Charlie Parker and Ornett Coleman, also a piece called "Bol Weevil Blues." It was funny to hear the Italian drummer try to explain to the audience what a bol weevil is. Most of the music was of the "fusion" variety that sounds to me like pigs being slaughtered. Not really my favorite and I'm glad the show only lasted an hour.

Holiday cheer

Unless you come to Europe in December, it's hard to imagine how much they like Christmas festivities. Sunday was Babbo Natale day here, then Monday was "Il Ponte," a bridge to the actual religious holiday of Immaculate Conception, which is Tuesday. So Italians are on a long-weekend holiday, and out in force shopping and taking the kids ( and dogs) to see the lights and activities.

When I arrived in Montepulciano I was shocked to see how many tourists were in town. I had to drive around several times before realizing that there were no available parking spaces to be had. None! Finally, I gave up and drove down to San Biagio where there were several spaces just outside the church. The steep walk back up the hill was grueling. I had to stop and rest twice as I thought I would have a heart attack before I made it back into the centro. I lived to write about it.

Montepulciano really puts on a great show with a full-blown Christmas Market up in the Piazza Grande. There are perhaps 40-50 gift stalls ranging from cured meats to jewelry and hand-knit hats. The Town Hall is lit up with dancing snowflakes and holiday music is plaing over speakers. Behind the Municipio, there's a food court with all manner of pastas, burgers, pizza--geared toward family and kids. I got a good laugh out of this sign translated into "English": 

The Fortezza is all decked out in holiday lights and you must buy a ticket to enter the Castello di Babbo Natale, which is decorated and set up for children. 

Outside the fortezza is a skating rink, complete with skate rental shop and hot chocolate booth. It was fun to watch folks attempt to skate on the slippery rink--clearly for the first time in many cases.

Off to a bad start, as usual

Have you ever wondered what happens when you miss the A1-Firenze exit off the GRA around Rome? Well, first you travel another few kilometers until you see the signs saying that the highway is ending. Then you find yourself on the gritty potholed outskirts of Rome--complete with strip joints, hookers and auto salvage yards. Then you notice the big dome in front of you and realize you are driving behind St. Peter's Basilica. Then you wonder (briefly) why the Pope lives so close to strip joints. Then your chest gets tight, you fight off tears and yell FUCK a few times as the lanes mysteriously change from one to two to one again. Scooters are weaving in and out. Pedestrians with baby strollers and cell phones and cigarettes are jumping in front of you. Then you pull off the road quickly and get the GPS fired up. Signore GPS seems confused too and proceeds to take you on a magical mystery tour of Roma. We went all the way around the ancient walls, even under some crumbling 2,000 year old aqueducts. After an hour of driving in hell you finally see a green sign pointing toward the autostrada. You scream YAAAYYYY!!! and follow the signs until you get to the southernmost point in the Rome city limits and you get on the bleeping highway where you should have been 1.5 hours ago. That's what happens when you miss the A-1-Firenze exit. The end.

Creatures of comfort

I

On tonight's flight from Philly to Rome the seats are only about one-third full. As I look around, I see that everyone in my area has an entire row to themselves. Here in 11H, I am also squatting on 11G, creating a rather pleasant loveseat-esque pod in which to while away the coming eight hours.

Directly across from me, there's a little old Italian guy who's commandeered his row of four seats, even though--fully reclined--he is barely three seats long. The married couple two rows ahead decided to split up into two rows so they could each have their own space. The guy in front of the old Italian gentleman--also with four seats to himself--is a do-gooder. He asked everyone in earshot if they'd like one of his extra pillows, and when everyone declined as they had their own stockpile, he happily fluffed up the whole lot of them to create a cozy nest. 

I am reminded of Stella, who spends countless hours a day fluffing up her personal space to maximize comfort. Whether it's a rug that's too scratchy, a stone floor that's too hard, or a lumpy spot in her bed, Stella will push, pull and kick at it until it's just right.  My in-flight neighbors are all in the process of doing the exact same thing. 

There's an interesting collection of stripes, argyle and solid socks to be seen as all shoes are off and neatly stowed under the seat in front of us. The faint aromas of sweat, leather and gym mingle with tonight's pasta or chicken menu selections. My black compression stockings are dull and make me feel old, but my toes are happy to be liberated.

We may not be fortunate enough to have a seat in business class, but here in "resourceful class," we are all happily making the very best of a long night and the lovely gift of a little extra space in which to feel "at home."

Sure, I'm a snob. So what??

First observation of the trip:

In civilized countries they don't serve cheese in cubes.

Second observation of the trip:

When you're hungry, the cubes will do.

Third observation of the trip:

I have been to this Admiral's Club at PHL so many times that I get pissed when someone is sitting in "my seat."