Dispatch #36 Tuscany, Italy

Dispatch # 36 Tuscany, Italy April-May, 2005 “Under Tuscan Skies in the Center of the World, the David and a Family Reunion ” For three weeks we made our home in a farmhouse outside of the small Tuscan village of Montespertoli. Thanks to our friends, Sandro Cuircina and Vicky Jader, who made their home available for us to rent, we were able to enjoy three delightful weeks in one tranquil location, which was a rare treat for our group of traveling nomads. Our time in Tuscany, however, produced mixed emotions. We loved the area, the farmhouse and the relaxed lifestyle. We had not been any one place for an extended period of time for quite awhile. Having an opportunity to settle in as we did, it made us homesick for a lifestyle away from constant movement. Although we remain excited to see France, The Netherlands, England and Ireland and the wonders that await us in each of these locations, we have grown weary of the constant traveling. Our lifestyle was best summed up by, who else, little Carmen, in a conversation we had one afternoon in the town square of Montespertoli. We were in the middle of our daily routine, a trip into town to buy some provisions, a cappuccino and a round of delicious gelato from the local gelateria. As we were sitting in the shade watching the locals stroll about the square, Carmen returned from playing with a local girl. She sat down next to us and sighed. “Having a good time?” we inquired. “Yah, but I can’t understand a thing that the Spanish girl is saying” Carmen replied. Elizabeth and I exchanged amused glances. “Carmen, what country are you in right now?” I asked. She thought for a moment and then she let out a big sigh, shrugged her shoulders, smiled and she said, “You know, I have no idea.” We thought it was a perfect response, indicative of our ever-changing lifestyle. Most importantly during our stay in Tuscany, we were able to meet up with friends and family. Our neighbors, Jane and Bob Bistry, who were traveling with Jane’s parents, sister and brother-in-law, met us in Siena for an afternoon. It was a pleasure to meet Jane’s relatives and we appreciated them sharing some of their vacation time with us. Later in the week Elizabeth’s sisters, Louise and Sabrina, and Sabrina’s husband, Doug, joined us. It was wonderful to finally see family after ten months! We reveled in the laughter, conversation and familiarity. It reminded us how much we enjoy our families and how much we miss them. Having a house with a yard and lanes to explore was a special treat for us. Having spent three quarters of a year on the road, moving from place to place every few days and living in relatively confined spaces, the kids enjoyed the luxury of having an entire house to spread out in and a yard to play in. Frankie was especially energetic, playing for hour’s outdoors, usually wearing his pirate hat. On the warmest days, we let him play with the hose, which he did with an absolute relish. His favorite past time by far, however, was the little red bench swing. It didn’t matter how long we pushed him in that swing, he would always ask for more. Between the two of us, Elizabeth and I must have gone outside to give him a swing at least a dozen times a day. You may have gathered that during our stay in Tuscany, the weather was very cooperative. It was, perhaps, unseasonably warm, but this meant days of bright sunshine filled with lots of outdoor play and exploration. It also meant warm daytime breezes full of wonderfully fragrant scents provided by hillsides full of beautiful flowering trees and bushes. The evenings were comfortably cool and we were treated to some spectacular Tuscan sunsets. Everyone we’ve ever met that has traveled to Italy has loved it. Before we arrived, we had gathered that Tuscany was a special place, but we were afraid that our experience might not live up to our rising expectations. Italy reveled itself in subtle ways during our time there and we too were taken in by her beauty and unchanged lifestyle. We found Tuscany to be a charming and relaxing. For us, Tuscany seemed to belong to the past, to a culture and lifestyle that has remained relatively unchanged for centuries. The villages we visited in the hills outside of Florence were strung together like pearls along the “just-over-one lane wide” country roads that ran through the region. We had an opportunity to visit many of the surrounding towns and villages during out stay. Each village was centered on a plaza, surrounded by delightful shops, restaurants, a pharmacy, a bakery, a supermarket, and most importantly, a gelateria. There were no shopping centers, no huge discount stores or malls. No matter how small, each village had a vibrant town center and each little storefront was occupied by a business. Each shop seemed to honor the other’s specialty. Rather than being put off by the inconvenience of having to visit several stores for our provisions, we found it very enjoyable. One shop for the bread, another for cheese, another for meat, another for pastries, and so on. We enjoyed biking into town to collect our fresh food for the day, selecting our favorite shops from the tiny stores that lined the square. I had a favorite butcher shop, Elizabeth a favorite cheese store, Maddie had her favorite shop for strawberries, Bella couldn’t pass the local bakery without buying a cake or treat and Frankie and Carmen always left town with a baguette in hand and a belly full of gelato. Having a gelato every day, and enjoying it in the relaxed environment of the town square, was a ritual that we will greatly miss. The local square of our adopted town, Montespertoli, also served as the daily central meeting place for the residents of the village. The town plaza was perfectly outfitted with a small outdoor café serving coffee, snacks, beer and wine, a gelateria nearby and lots of benches and shaded areas. It seemed as though the entire town would turn out each day in the late afternoon, shopping, strolling, snacking, and conversing well into the evenings. Old men and women sitting in groups on park benches provided a glimpse of a seemingly timeless way of life in this small Italian village. Each day, amid children riding bikes and playing, we watched multiple generations of Italians engaged in animated conversations and enjoying each other’s company. Often we would observe three generations of Italians strolling arm-in-arm around the square. Their sense of family and community was evident. We thought about how unfortunate it is that much of this has been lost in so many towns around America. The proliferation of mega malls, superstores and discount chains has drawn us away from our town squares and shuttered our ma-and-pa businesses. The value our culture has placed on industry and convenience has left us with little time to stroll and to talk with one another. In our opinion, the loss of our “downtowns” back home has come at an even greater cost than just the empty storefronts of lost small businesses that could no longer compete; it has to varying degrees cost us our sense of community. Someone once said “The god who created the hills around Tuscany was an artist” and we could not agree more. The lighting outdoors seemed to provide a uniquely vibrant and broad spectrum of colors. The patchwork of grape vines, olive groves and grazing fields not only made for picturesque visual images; they filled the air with a pleasant, earthy aroma. These sensory perceptions, combined with gentle days, filled with lots of sunshine, created the impression that everything around us was growing before our very eyes. Although we thoroughly enjoyed relaxing at home, we couldn’t resist taking some day trips in the area. In addition to visiting several nearby small villages and towns, from our base in Montespertoli, we also visited several of larger and more famous cities in the area. We had the opportunity to visit Florence four times, and we traveled twice to each of San Gimignano, Pisa and Siena. On these day trips, we would pass through Chianti country, with its cream colored farmhouses, terra cotta roofs, emerald green fields spotted with patches of wild, bright red poppies, farm lanes lined with narrow cypress trees, and rolling hills dotted with olive trees and lined with grape vines. Ultimately we would arrive at beguiling places like San Gimignano and Siena, where we were greeted by picturesque, hilltop, walled cities, hemmed in by russet colored medieval walls, and crowned with majestic stone towers. Once within the city walls we would follow the winding, narrow streets and alleyways made of rough-hewn paving stones, and lined with quaint restaurants and retail stores tucked into “been-there-forever” buildings. Each town that we visited was centered on a beautiful piazza, which still served as a gathering place for its citizens just as it had for centuries. Although my descriptions of the Tuscan villages and towns that we visited sound very similar, that is simply due to my finite vocabulary. In actuality, we found each town to be quite different, and to suggest otherwise would be like saying “Seen one Michelangelo, seen them all.” After exploring the historical points of interest we would find a seat in the wide-open, sun-soaked piazzas and soak up the relaxed atmosphere that permeated the plaza. In order to enter Siena, an alluring relic of the Middle Ages, we had to pass through medieval gates and walk down stone streets, past Gothic churches and historic two-story stone buildings, all of which stood the shadows of the ancient fortress towers which stood sentinel over the town. One of the main highlights of our visits to Siena was lounging in the sun in the middle of the fan shaped, sloping public plaza, the Piazza Del Campo. The huge brick piazza, terminus for a maze of winding narrow streets, was lined with restaurants and shops. The piazza floor was divided into nine segments, each with its own distinctive brick pattern (the nine segments apparently represented the Council of Nine that once governed the city). It was in the Piazza Del Campo that we met up our neighbors from Chicago, Bob and Jane Bistry. They recognized us from afar when they spotted a family sitting on the bricks in the middle of the piazza with pizza boxes spread out around them. While we enjoyed a glass of wine with Bob and Jane during our first visit, Madeline and Isabella joined Jane’s family in climbing to the top of the Torre Del Mangia bell tower which stood three hundred and thirty feet above the bustling Piazza Del with its splendid Fonte Gaia fountain below. Maddie and Bella enjoyed the climb so much that they repeated the feat a few days later when they guided Elizabeth, Doug, Sabrina and Louise to the top of the tower. While we were in Siena, we visited Siena’s famous Duomo (cathedral), with its distinctive façade of alternating bands of black, white, green and pink marble. Inside the cavernous Duomo and far below the dramatic vaulted ceiling, which was painted blue with gold stars, we were able to view rare works of painting and sculpture. Although we agreed that our favorite visual delight was the imposing octagonal pulpit designed by Nicola Pisano with its marvelous mosaic inlaid marble flooring and ornately carved wooden panels. Off the main altar we explored anterooms, which served as libraries, some lavishly frescoed, and most containing rare religious works of art and centuries old hand painted and scripted bibles. Our resident scholar, Madeline, was especially intrigued by the enormous, over-sized and elaborately hand painted bibles with their faded pages. I left the anteroom several times and each time, I returned to find Maddie intently studying the ancient texts. Fully expecting a memorable quote or weighty observation that I could include in my next dispatch I asked “So what do you make of these?” She considered the question for a moment, then pointed excitedly to the small pieces of tattered paper that stuck out from the bound pages, and said…(drum roll, please) “Check out the funky medieval post-it notes!” Siena was a wonderful city to walk around. We spent hours exploring the side streets and alleyways. Along the way we passed several small plazas that were adorned with the colorful flags and emblems of some of the ancient city’s seventeen contradas, or parishes. Each neighborhood had its own crest, colors and animal mascot. From speaking with some of the residents we learned that there are intense ancient rivalries between the contradas and within each parish, the loyalty to the residents is fierce. The biggest event of the year in Siena is the Palio, a combination of the Kentucky Derby and the Mardi Gras. It is held twice a summer on July 2nd and August 16th. In preparation for the race, tons of dirt are brought into the Piazza Del Campo and the plaza is transformed into a racetrack. Tens of thousands of spectators pack the plaza. Drawn by lot, ten of the seventeen contradas are represented in the race. Prior to the race, there is a grand spectacle with a parade of pageantry, drummers, banner bearers, and uniformed members of each contrada dressed in colorful costumes dating back to the times of the Renaissance. Prior to the race, the contradas compete in such things as synchronized flag throwing, an ancient competition that Sienese youth practice from an early age. The winner of the ninety second long race captures the “Silk Palio” and the celebration in the winning neighborhood apparently continues for days and even weeks after the race. Our trips to San Gimignano were some of our favorite excursions. The town was as intriguing as its name was difficult to pronounce. We trying about a half dozen different pronunciations, we settled with “San G.” Thirteen ancient stone towers dominated the medieval skyline of San G. There once were 72 of these imposing fortress towers, which must have been an awe-inspiring sight for Roma-bound pilgrims and travelers as they approached the city from the surrounding countryside. The town has managed to maintain a vibrant atmosphere even though it is over 700 years removed from its heydays. As with all of the Tuscan cities that we visited, the serious nature of the fortress fortifications was softened by quiet narrow, winding streets leading to relaxing and harmonious piazzas. In San G, we lingered in some of the main piazzas, the Piazza del Duomo and the nearby Piazza della Cisterna (named after the well that stood at the heart of the town) munching on slices of thin pizza and soaking up the Tuscan sunshine. We traveled to Pisa on two occasions as well. As with most pilgrimages to Pisa, we went there to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We were not disappointed. The famous tilted structure was set in a wide-open green space called the Campo dei Miracoli or the “Field of Miracles.” Approaching the Tower we were struck by not only its fabled slant, but also by its shear architectural beauty. Set against a perfect blue sky, the stone Tower with its intricate façade leaned before us like an elegant white birthday cake gleaming under the bright mid-day sunlight. The delightful Duomo and Bapistry, which shared the Campo dei Miracoli with the legendary Leaning Tower, were wonderful architectural masterpieces in and of themselves. The Duomo, with its intricate white façade and dramatic columns, was one of the finer buildings that we saw during our stay in Italy. However, our eyes were continuously drawn back to the Tower. Construction was begun in 1173, but the Tower had begun to sink in the sandy subsoil before the structure was half completed. Apparently, the Pisans did not let a little thing like structural integrity bother them and they continued during the course of the next hundred years to finish the six-story tower. The Leaning Tower of Pisa has been thumbing its nose at the natural laws of gravity ever since. Speaking of gravity, the “heretic” Galileo Galilei was a frequent visitor to the Tower. He used the Tower as a part of his then controversial experiments on the subject of gravity. Although a major stabilization project had just been completed, we are happy to report that famous Tower has been shored up to a prudent, but infinitely photogenic lean. For most visitors to Tuscany, side trips such as the ones we took to Siena, San Gimignano and Pisa are merely a warm up for the big event, Florence. When Italy consisted of dozens of principalities, its art treasures were concentrated in many small capitals, each blessed with the patronage of a papal representative or a ducal family. Consequently, cities like Florence, thanks in part to its benefactors, the Medici family, became a treasure trove of exquisite paintings, statues and frescos, which were displayed in churches, monasteries and palaces. Our first trip into Florence was a bit frustrating. The traffic and congestion was a turn-off. We found ourselves lost several times, and once we found parking at the centrally located terminal station, convenient for exploring the city, the crowded, narrow sidewalks and a gauntlet of street vendors made it difficult for our little band to get to our destination, the sculpture of David at the Galleria dell Accademia. Clearing a path through the narrow, congested sidewalks and alleyways was a simple as turning on Carmen’s “Scuzzi Siren. “ Once Carmen had learned that “Scuzzi” meant, “Excuse me, “she became adept at sitting in the seat of the double stroller, singing “Scuzzi, Scuzzi” in a little sing-song voice that sounded vaguely like the tone of a European police siren. The initial hassles aside, viewing Michelangelo’s sculpture of the biblical figure, David, up close made our first sputtering foray into Florence well worth the effort. Someone famous once said, “After seeing the sculpture of David, there is no reason to see any other sculpture.” We could understand why. Created by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) at the age of 29, the David ensured Michelangelo’s place as one of the great Renaissance artists. Set under a glass skylight portico, the David stood seventeen feet tall and was magnificent to behold. We marveled at Michelangelo’s detailed reconstruction of the human form, and his immense talent for expressing monumental power and grace through the male nude. The subtlety of the sling draped across his back seemed to emphasize the strength of David’s intellect over his brute force, and yet the pose of the muscular figure displayed a real sense of physical power. Chiseled from a single piece of marble, the David was an unusually moving piece of art. We found ourselves mesmerized by the giant. While others came and went, we sat on the floor, against the wall opposite the sculpture and soaked up the beauty of the David. We found the statute and its meditative pose, so fluid and graceful, mesmerizing. Personally, I was not prepared for the size of the sculpture or for the incredible detail of the carving. Michelangelo’s detail of the musculature of the human anatomy was exquisite, and it appeared as though the master had chiseled every vein and muscle into his work. We sat for well over an hour and a half gazing at the David while Isabella and Madeline sketched their impressions of the masterpiece into their journals. After a thrilling audience with The David, we returned to the streets of Florence and pushed our way through some of the congested surrounding neighborhoods, only to be initially under whelmed by the city. This was in part due to the congestion and part to our unfamiliarity with the city. So, we retreated back to the hills of Tuscany with the sinking feeling that we might end up being the first travelers not to declare Florence one of their favorite cities. For most of us, the highlight of our first trip into Florence was the David. But, for Frankie, his first encounter with Florence was a life changing experience. Recently we have been trying to potty train our son not only because we felt it was time, but also because we needed to free up some luggage space that up until recently had been devoted to our stash of disposable diapers. So, when Frank announced in no uncertain terms that he had to go “Pee-pee” we scrambled to find a public restroom. What started out as a simple side trip quickly turned into a mad dash as each set of directions we were given resulted in a dead end. As Frankie’s plaintive cries of “I gotta go, I gotta go!” mounted we finally saw a sign for public lavatories that directed us down a dimly lit alleyway. Unfortunately, the facilities were locked; a small handwritten sign told us that they were closed for a couple hours for repair. For Biz and I the choice was obvious. We wheeled Frankie around, pulled down his pants and instructed him to go in the alley. We were cognizant that this was not the best lesson to teach our potty trainee and we were a bit apprehensive about being discovered by other tourists passing along the adjacent street, but we had no choice other than to introduce Frankie to what would turn out to be the wonder of outdoor urination. We drew some consolation from the fact that based on the stains and smell in the alley; we were certainly not the first bi-peds to make similar use of this public way. At first Frankie was hesitant, seemingly aware that he was doing something out of the ordinary. But his hesitancy was quickly replaced by an excited smile. “This is cool Papa,” he said as he went about his business. As his Grandma Baker would say, “Your are a real Eur-a-pee’in now.” Unfortunately, this simple emergency call of nature has turned into a real problem for us. Frankie enjoyed the experience too much and on numerous occasions I have looked out of our window at the farmhouse only to spy Frankie trying to write his name on the side of the house or the tile patio. When he “goes” he takes his pants and underwear off and since he can’t put them back on by himself, we always know when he has snuck in another outdoor adventure. At this point, we are unsure as to whether we will ever be able to convince him to use indoor plumbing again. The second trip into Florence, Elizabeth did on her own with Maddie and Bella. She had read about a “behind the scenes” tour of the Palazzo Vecchio and signed up for a “big girls” date. Having learned from our mistakes during our first trip into Florence, the second drive into the city ended up being a piece of cake enabling the girls to spend the afternoon exploring the streets of Florence as pedestrians. The following are excerpts from the big girl’s notebooks. On our way we passed the majestic Duomo and Bapistry of Florence, Ponte Vecchio, and the Piazza della Signoria before we finally reached the Palazzo Vecchio. Not knowing what to expect, we were pleasantly surprised by the tour. Our guide was a handsome Italian clothed in Renaissance period costume. He had taken the character of Giorgio Vasari, the celebrated Renaissance artist, architect, civic planner and designer of the Palazzo Vecchio. The thespian tour guide never broke character during the tour, much to everyone’s delight. He provided us with a glimpse of the hidden galleries and rooms of the structure that had once been an elaborate palace of Florence’s ruling Medici family. He led us down special passageways and through ornate galleries and special rooms such as the gallery where the frescoes of Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci were supposed to have been completed. He told us that the closest that these two masters ever came to displaying their work in the same location was during a project commissioned by the Medici to have the two rivals fresco opposite walls in one of the Palazzo Vecchio‘s galleries. The display of the preliminary sketches, known as cartoons, by the two Renaissance heavyweights drew spectators from throughout Europe, but alas, the competition took place. Michelangelo was called to Rome by the Pope and according to our guide; Da Vinci gave up because he found painting in fresco too difficult. As we stood in the great hall where Da Vinci and Michelangelo had been commissioned to simultaneously fresco, we tried to imagine what the already stunning gallery would have looked like had these masters completed their projects. The girls’ second trip to Florence was such a wonderful experience and their enthusiasm so infectious, that we decided to all return the next day to give Florence another chance. What a difference it was. We were glad we returned. The driving directions were set. Our movement between each point of interest was, by now, well-rehearsed and fluid, thanks to the big girls mapping out lots of short cuts to avoid much of the congestion. Having cracked Da Firenze Code, we were able to more fully enjoy and appreciate beauty and history that has made Florence world famous as a center of Renaissance art and culture. We passed along the winding cobbled streets, which periodically spilled out, into enclaves of sunny piazzas. As we walked we could peer down the labyrinth of side alleys festooned with drying laundry hanging from the two-story stone buildings. The highlight of this adventure was our visit to the enormous Duomo of Florence, which was a dramatic cathedral with a colorful marble façade of reds, whites, greens and pinks. A magnificent red-tiled, octagonal shaped dome that towered over the surrounding neighborhood capped the top of the Duomo. Across from the Duomo was the Bapistry, a relatively diminutive circular Romanesque style marble building. But the building was not the focal point, it was the stunning bronze doors that were decorated with intricate carvings of Old Testament stories. We stood for a long time marveling at the detail and beauty of these doors, which were an exquisite example of Renaissance craftsmanship created by Lorenzo Ghiberti over a span of twenty-eight years. According to our guidebook, Michelangelo, who was a hardened art critic and well known for his disdain of other artist’s work, declared the doors “Suitable for the gates of heaven.” We realized that we had exposed Carmen to a lot of new stimuli when we found her off on her own playing the imagination game of “street performer.” Throughout our travels we have seen many street performers, each with their own unique brand of entertainment. The children have always enjoyed taking time to observe the performances and to place a donation in the performer’s tip bowl. We have also been confronted with many people who are down on their luck, pleading for money from passersby like ourselves. We hadn’t put much thought into the impact of these experiences until we found Carmen outside the farmhouse, seated against the wall of the house, wrapped in a blanket, with a Fisher Price five key play piano and a tip bowl in front of her and a baby doll wrapped and lying next to her. “What are you doing honey?” I inquired. “I am a street actor” she replied. “Do you want to give me a tip?” Apparently the swaddling child had been added for sentimental effect (just as she as seen countless times during our journey). She pounded out a tune on her multicolored toy keyboard and then without saying a word, pointed me in the direction of the tip bowl sitting next to her. Once her brothers and sisters realized that Carmen was getting real money as tips, the game caught on quite quickly. Soon Maddie had assumed the role of a street statute like the ones she had seen in Barcelona, Bella had dug out all of her temporary tattoos and offered them for sale and Frankie, well Frankie took a minimalist approach and just plopped himself down on the sidewalk and periodically asked “You wanna give me some money?” Relating the story of Carmen “the street performer” reminds me of another story I hope you will enjoy. Earlier in the week while in Florence, while Maddie, Bella and I were off gazing at The David in the Galleria dell’ Accademia, Elizabeth was passing the time by strolling Carmen and Frankie up and down some of the nearby shopping streets. In the process, she passed the same woman several times. The woman, seated against a wall and holding a baby in her arms, would ask them for money each time they passed. Although they had already donated to her once, she continued to make the same plea during each successive pass. After several passes, Carmen turned around in the stroller and said to Elizabeth “Well, she’s really not much of a street performer is she!” The real highlight of our time in Tuscany was seeing some of our family. Spending time with Doug, Louise and Sabrina was exactly what we needed. During our trip we have missed our family, so having a chance to see some of them after so many months was inspirational and therapeutic for our souls. It was especially nice for Elizabeth to be able to spend some quality time with Sabrina and Louise. There was a twinkle in her eyes and an extra lift in her step during their visit. It would be difficult to describe in words how meaningful it was for all of us to have them travel so far to spend time with us. During their stay we took the opportunity to celebrate Uncle Doug’s 50th Birthday, which we knew we would miss later in the month. The girls were very excited to present Doug with their homemade cards and display their banners. We had a cake decorated in town and had family celebration after dinner one evening. It was not only a celebration of a birthday, but for us, a celebration of family. Although Elizabeth had to share the family with the rest of us, they did have one opportunity to have an all Baker-side big kids day in Florence. They took in all of the sights, including a visit to the world renowned Uffizi (nearly all of Florence’s finest art is stored there including the world’s finest collection of Renaissance paintings), and even managed to enjoy a leisurely sun-soaked Italian lunch complete with wine and adult conversation. We can only hope their stay was a fraction as special to them as their visit was to our family. Parting was difficult, the time passing too quickly, but it was eased by the fact that Louise stayed on with us for another week traveling with our gang from Italy to Paris before returning home. Other Random Memories From Our Time In Tuscany. When we first arrived in Tuscany, we thought that it would be fun to rent bikes, but we had a devil of a time finding a place that rented them. We had to drive to a town about 20 kilometers away to find some bikes to rent. After our first attempted family trip into town we realized why no one rented bikes in the area. Unless you are training for the Tour de France, you have to be nuts to try to ride your bike around here. The hills almost killed us and we ended walking our bikes most of the way into town. If the hills weren’t difficult enough, we also had to be very careful of passing traffic on the narrow roads, as there was no shoulder to which to retreat. After our failed family outing, I found myself riding alone into town each day. I still had to walk a few hills each time, but over the course of three weeks I was able to make just a little further each day before surrendering to the slopes. Since riding into town was primarily an uphill exercise, we came up with a new plan. I rode my bike while Elizabeth drove the kids and the other bikes into town. Once we were in town, we would take turns riding around the town center and exploring the alleyways and side streets. After a gelato, some shopping and a few pony rides on the electronic carousel horse, Maddie, Bella and I would ride our brakes from town back to the farmhouse while the others followed in the van. Italians keep their pizza simple, a very thin crust, a light coating of sauce and a sprinkle of cheese is their staple pie. Not what I would have ordered back home, but boy was it delicious. I am not sure if it is the earthy scenery, or being outdoors all day in the glorious weather, or just simply the freshness of the food, but we have all agreed that everything seems to taste better in Italy. One of the most cherished pastimes of Italians is eating. No matter how much pizza and pasta you have had in your life, you’ll never taste any better than the food in Italy. We were not accustomed to seeing red poppies growing wild in large patches along the roadsides. They were everywhere along the winding back roads and nestled among the verdant rolling hills of the region and we were continually captivated by their beauty. We loved to just sit and watch the locals carrying on conversations in the public square. The Italians were so animated in their conversation. The use of a wide range of intonation and vigorous hand gestures was uniquely Italian and fun to watch. Casual conversations about mundane subjects looked to the casual observer like heated arguments over topics of great importance. While we were staying at the farmhouse, we decided to assign each evening with a theme. There were game nights, arts and crafts nights, story telling nights and play nights. The personal favorites of Elizabeth and I were the play nights when the girls would dream up a script, cobble together costumes from our limited wardrobes and, after some rehearsing, would present us with a multi-act play or musical. The wonder of their imaginations and their surprising ingenuity was only surpassed by their enthusiasm and their refreshing lack of inhibitions. My contribution to the daily schedule was “Vegas Night” which much to the chagrin of Biz was an instant hit with the kids and we had a difficult time getting the kids to end the games and go to bed. Vegas night was so popular in fact that we began to notice that the kids had revised the written schedule hanging on the wall by replacing other planned nights with more Vegas nights. As we have mentioned, the kids loved playing outdoors at the farmhouse. One of the many imaginary games they created was “store. “ One of the girls, usually Bella or Carmen, would set up a storefront on the window sill which opened up into the yard. The store would offer a wide range of used toys and kitchen utensils for sale. The girls would collect items and offer them for exchange at the makeshift store. Frankie put a different spin on the game. He practiced his shoplifting techniques. While the girls were in the midst of a transaction, the little man would sprint into the window, grab a toy and amidst the screams and protests of his sisters he would sprint off into the yard, laughing and roaring all the way. We loved shopping at local market, the Coop, a wonderful little grocery store with everything we needed to prepare delicious meals at home. The store was small, but it had one or two brands of everything we required. We realized that there was genius in this simplicity. Having twenty or more options for every item as we have back home is actually more confusing than it is liberating. We used the Coop for general items and then walked around the town square gathering up fresh breads, produce, meats and cheeses. We only bought what we needed for that day’s meals, returning each day for another supply of items. We loved making pasta meals, interchanging different pastas with different sauces, carbonara, Bolognese, mushroom, cheese, marinara, pesto. The kids even ate spaghetti Bolognese for breakfast! Some of the special memories of our delightful stay in Tuscany were sitting outside, taking in the fragrant smell of flowering trees and bushes and enjoying moments when companionship, wine and good food came together on our sun dappled cottage overlooking the fertile rolling countryside. We found the Italians to be extremely friendly and helpful. They made our experience relaxed and comfortable. They were exceedingly patient as we tried to cobble together Italian words and were quick to offer whatever linguistic assistance they could muster, including any English they knew. One of my favorites was the owner of the local gas station who we met during our first day in Montespertoli. He was a gregarious little man, with a wide smile and an easy manner. He refused to pump any gas or give us any directions unless we tried to speak with him in Italian. He would wait with a big smile while I offered up my unique dialect, which was a combination of Spanish and Italian words and phrases. Once he was satisfied that I had exhausted my limited vocabulary, he would laugh, pat me on the shoulder and then talk to me in English. He was so entertaining and delightful that I found myself stopping by to talk with him each day when I rode my bike from the farmhouse into town. Each time I spoke with him, he reminded me that I was a very lucky man because I was in “The center of the world.” He would say it in a kidding manner, but I could tell that he was also very serious about his assessment of Tuscany and more specifically, his little village of Montespertoli. After three splendid weeks in Montespertoli I would not argue the point, it was a very special place. Being reunited with family made it an even more extraordinary experience for us. The magic of Tuscany will linger in our memories for a long time after our trip has concluded. NEXT DISPATCH. A MONTH IN FRANCE

Comments

[Elitre]

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[jackie lanphear]

Hello Parkinson Clan,

I also will be sorry that your adventure is ending. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading about all of your exciting adventures!
Welcome back to the states and thank all of you for sharing the past ten months with me. Hope you have a wonderful 4th of July celebration!
xxoo Jackie lanphear