We've decided to rent a car to drive back to Rome tomorrow rather than taking the train. We need to say goodbye to Tuscany one more time and give Ornellas and Gail a chance to catch a quick glimpse of it all.
Today was rainy and cool, but we did manage to walk the city, look at the sights, shop a little (mostly very expensive). Although we've had a great time, we are all looking forward to getting home to our routines. When I'm complaining about a month from now, don't remind me that I said that, okay?
We'll blog from Rome tomorrow night. Thanks for checking into the blog.
Ciao for now.
--Kathy
Monday, April 21, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Peggy post-Uffizi
The picture says it all! Left to right - Gail, Rosemary, and Peggy along Ponte Vecchio in Florence.
Cinque Terre
I am a bit behind in adding pics to the blog. Here's a nice little shot of the view of one of the Cinque Terre towns on the road back to Portovenere from Vernazza.
The highlight of our day in Vernazza - Cinque Terre
Okay,we had many highlights of our day in Cinque Terre including a fabulous lunch at il Baritto in Vernazza. The owner doted on the 5 of us and we even had dolce (dessert). Yum! On our way back up the very narrow (1-car) road, we ran into a family of wild boar: momma and 3 babies. Suffice it to say that none of us are going to try the wild boar now that we've actually met the family!
A Town Like Florence
Peggy here. Florence is breathtaking, for more reasons than one. We visited the Uffizi today where the largest collection of Renaissance painting is housed. We started in the Middle Ages room, with all of the altar pieces and madonnas and the stacked cherubs. There was a gentleman in one painting who seemed to say "Oh no, not this again". The painting with all of its gold leafing and halos was what they were painting when the Renaissance painters were born and then the Renaissance painters grew up and went to town. It was remarkable to see them struggle on canvas. Some paintings are successful and some are not and that is just the way art goes. They took the human body out from under the heavy cloaks, quit painting everybody with a hunched back, and painted semi nudes and painted depth rather than stacking their characters.
We walked across the Arno River to tourist shopping and that was a nightmare.
We have nothing planned for tomorrow, which is a relief. I believe that we are arranging for transportation back to Rome...train or rent a car? I am voting for train but I see the light in Kathy's and Rosemary's eyes and can see myself in the back of an alfa romeo.
The hotel here is utterly charming. We look out onto an atrium where we have all set up shop and snacks and sit and chat under the Florentine sun and full moon. There are only 9 rooms here and the owners seem to run happily at our requests and the requests of others. We have breakfast here, all set up very nicely by the owner, and are treated like royalty.
Florence sparks my imagination and I will come back to this beautiful city. I am returning home to study Renaissance art and what happened after that.
We walked across the Arno River to tourist shopping and that was a nightmare.
We have nothing planned for tomorrow, which is a relief. I believe that we are arranging for transportation back to Rome...train or rent a car? I am voting for train but I see the light in Kathy's and Rosemary's eyes and can see myself in the back of an alfa romeo.
The hotel here is utterly charming. We look out onto an atrium where we have all set up shop and snacks and sit and chat under the Florentine sun and full moon. There are only 9 rooms here and the owners seem to run happily at our requests and the requests of others. We have breakfast here, all set up very nicely by the owner, and are treated like royalty.
Florence sparks my imagination and I will come back to this beautiful city. I am returning home to study Renaissance art and what happened after that.
Florence
Buena serra from il Villino (our hotel) in Florence. By the way, should any of you are traveling to Florence, I highly recommend il Villino.
We came to Florence yesterday via our "smokin' Alpha Romeo"(yes, we kept it a week longer than planned)--all 5 of us including luggage. My old friend 'Ornellas' is an expert trunk packer. Even the guys at the hotel were impressed when they popped open the trunk to unload our luggage. No one could believe so much could fit in such a little space.
Once settled in the hotel, Rosemary, Peggy and I set out to find the airport to drop off the car. I am not sure why, but these things are never as straight forward as one would anticipate. I didn't know the airport in Florence was so tiny. It was so small in fact, that no taxi cabs could be found or summoned. After about an hour, we hopped a shuttle bus which dropped us at the train station. Surley we'd find a cab there (remember, Peggy isn't walking long distances these days). But alas there were no cabs and many people waiting. To top it off, I could not find the bathroom in the train statio. After half an hour or more a few cabs finally arrived to pick up all the waiting passengers and we made it back. Phew. Kathy (aka Ornellas) and Gail were waiting with a very nice picnic dinner out in a little courtyard for us. We dined under warm, clear skies and a big full moon. Nice end to a lovely day. We are glad to be back in Tuscany.
I know this may sound crazy, but I think the highlight of my trip has been meeting up with Ornellas after 28 years. I am having a blast. Hard to believe we had to come all the way to Italy to make it happen, but at least it did. I'm glad we did.
More later . . .
--Kathy (aka Ringwood)
We came to Florence yesterday via our "smokin' Alpha Romeo"(yes, we kept it a week longer than planned)--all 5 of us including luggage. My old friend 'Ornellas' is an expert trunk packer. Even the guys at the hotel were impressed when they popped open the trunk to unload our luggage. No one could believe so much could fit in such a little space.
Once settled in the hotel, Rosemary, Peggy and I set out to find the airport to drop off the car. I am not sure why, but these things are never as straight forward as one would anticipate. I didn't know the airport in Florence was so tiny. It was so small in fact, that no taxi cabs could be found or summoned. After about an hour, we hopped a shuttle bus which dropped us at the train station. Surley we'd find a cab there (remember, Peggy isn't walking long distances these days). But alas there were no cabs and many people waiting. To top it off, I could not find the bathroom in the train statio. After half an hour or more a few cabs finally arrived to pick up all the waiting passengers and we made it back. Phew. Kathy (aka Ornellas) and Gail were waiting with a very nice picnic dinner out in a little courtyard for us. We dined under warm, clear skies and a big full moon. Nice end to a lovely day. We are glad to be back in Tuscany.
I know this may sound crazy, but I think the highlight of my trip has been meeting up with Ornellas after 28 years. I am having a blast. Hard to believe we had to come all the way to Italy to make it happen, but at least it did. I'm glad we did.
More later . . .
--Kathy (aka Ringwood)
Friday, April 18, 2008
Portovenere happenings
I am attempting to blog today from my cell phone. After a wild thunder, lightening, wind storm last night it is turning out to be a beautiful day here on the coast. We are headed back to the Cinque Terre towns today, our last taste of this stunning region. Tomorrow the 5 of us head for Florence and the Ufizzi! Until later-Kathy
Kathy Ringwood
Kathy Ringwood
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Mia Famiglia Italiana
On Sunday, I met my Italian cousins, Matilde (center) and Luciana (left), Luciana’s daughter Monica, and Monica’s family: husband Livio, and children Katarina (14) and Filippo (7). We had a wonderful visit. We went first to the home that Luciana and Monica’s family share, then
The Importance of Breathing
Peggy here, writing from an internet cafe in Le Spezia, where an actual young person has left in a huff because I, an actual middle aged person, did something questionable and by accident with my computer headphones that caused a loud screech that just went on and on.
A yoga teacher came to our apartment this morning and did a session with me. Roberto teaches a style of yoga that is about breath and a little movement. He seemed dismayed about my breathing. I do not breath enough and do not take natural breaths. I hold my breath, then gasp, sigh, deflate, inflate, then hold. It is a veritable respiration circus, although we agreed that this is all performed in very nice surroundings, what with Portevenere to the right, Le Spezia to the left, and the Mediterranean straight ahead and not at all too far away. Roberto will return on Friday and expects to find actual breathing taking place.
The area is having unseasonably cold and rainy weather and there are apologies about this but truly it is beautiful and fun. I do not feel particularly disappointed about the lack of hiking. I have replaced the hiking with the eating and believe I will face a couple of weeks of elastic waistbands, but we must line up our weaknesses in a row and mow them down one by one with willpower. In 10 days, it will be salads and brussel sprouts for me, plus workouts you would not believe. Thanks in advance, Derrick!
With the weather being so poor, boots have come back out in the retail rooms. They are surprisingly cheap and lowheeled here. But they are suede, and I live in Seattle. You know?
To the anonymous commentaire who asked about restrooms, let me assure you that the toilets we have met actually flush. There is a lot of marble in the restrooms. The most notable restroom we have used was an "outdoor "one where when you exit, the entire locked cubicle is automatically washed and disinfected. I applaud the thought behind this. That would be an awfully good improvement to a particularly troublesome restroom in a particularly old building that we know.
I wonder about all of you at home. We are starting to talk about home more and I am curious about your goings on. A number of our friends are making important changes right now and we have no idea which way each one went.
When I was in the third grade, we had an all school music recital where we third graders sang a song about the Mediterranean. There was lots of singing and spelling and swaying in imitation of ocean waves. At the end of the song we all pretty much yelled, exuberantly, MEDITERRANEAN!!! My brother Ken may remember this.
A yoga teacher came to our apartment this morning and did a session with me. Roberto teaches a style of yoga that is about breath and a little movement. He seemed dismayed about my breathing. I do not breath enough and do not take natural breaths. I hold my breath, then gasp, sigh, deflate, inflate, then hold. It is a veritable respiration circus, although we agreed that this is all performed in very nice surroundings, what with Portevenere to the right, Le Spezia to the left, and the Mediterranean straight ahead and not at all too far away. Roberto will return on Friday and expects to find actual breathing taking place.
The area is having unseasonably cold and rainy weather and there are apologies about this but truly it is beautiful and fun. I do not feel particularly disappointed about the lack of hiking. I have replaced the hiking with the eating and believe I will face a couple of weeks of elastic waistbands, but we must line up our weaknesses in a row and mow them down one by one with willpower. In 10 days, it will be salads and brussel sprouts for me, plus workouts you would not believe. Thanks in advance, Derrick!
With the weather being so poor, boots have come back out in the retail rooms. They are surprisingly cheap and lowheeled here. But they are suede, and I live in Seattle. You know?
To the anonymous commentaire who asked about restrooms, let me assure you that the toilets we have met actually flush. There is a lot of marble in the restrooms. The most notable restroom we have used was an "outdoor "one where when you exit, the entire locked cubicle is automatically washed and disinfected. I applaud the thought behind this. That would be an awfully good improvement to a particularly troublesome restroom in a particularly old building that we know.
I wonder about all of you at home. We are starting to talk about home more and I am curious about your goings on. A number of our friends are making important changes right now and we have no idea which way each one went.
When I was in the third grade, we had an all school music recital where we third graders sang a song about the Mediterranean. There was lots of singing and spelling and swaying in imitation of ocean waves. At the end of the song we all pretty much yelled, exuberantly, MEDITERRANEAN!!! My brother Ken may remember this.
Portovenere, Cinque Terre and the Coast
We miss Susan in Montestigliano!
The sea is beautiful, but until today, the weather has been cold, blustery and downright awful.
Our apartment is nice, but it is about one third the size we thought it would be. The beds are the best we've had so far, but the furniture is quite uncomfortable. The kitchen is a hallway, but doable with just 2 burners and a pint sized fridge. Peggy thinks it was made for smurfs. The couches are very low to the ground and provides zero support. Oh well, we aren't supposed to be sitting around anyway.
We have had more driving adventures. We went to Pisa on the way to the coast and got lost as we left. We wanted to head north towards Genova. We reached a 4 way intersection and there were 4 signs pointing north, south, east and west that said 'Genova'. Which way to go? We just started to laugh, stopped at a Tabacchi for a cafe latte and asked the owner for directions. "It's easy!" he said. Well, it was once we knew where we were going.
I am not fond of very high places. When we reached our destination and stood looking down over the cliff about 600 or 700 feet above the ocean and the "lift" that was to carry us, 2 at a time, to our destination, I gulped. Luigi, the owner (who speaks no Inglesi) took us one by one down the cliff in the lift so he could teach us how to operate the thing. It is really something. The olive trees and huge terraced gardens are lovely. I try not to focus on how high we are in the air and what long way down it would be if we fell.
Well, I have wasted a couple of Euros trying to figure out how to upload some cool photos but alas, we are not allowed to do so from these machines. Perhaps later. Rosemary is trying, too. I am off to the WIND store to get our cell phones configured. Here's hoping we'll be able to blog from the comfort of Rosemary's computer in the evening.
Ciao.
-Kathy
The sea is beautiful, but until today, the weather has been cold, blustery and downright awful.
Our apartment is nice, but it is about one third the size we thought it would be. The beds are the best we've had so far, but the furniture is quite uncomfortable. The kitchen is a hallway, but doable with just 2 burners and a pint sized fridge. Peggy thinks it was made for smurfs. The couches are very low to the ground and provides zero support. Oh well, we aren't supposed to be sitting around anyway.
We have had more driving adventures. We went to Pisa on the way to the coast and got lost as we left. We wanted to head north towards Genova. We reached a 4 way intersection and there were 4 signs pointing north, south, east and west that said 'Genova'. Which way to go? We just started to laugh, stopped at a Tabacchi for a cafe latte and asked the owner for directions. "It's easy!" he said. Well, it was once we knew where we were going.
I am not fond of very high places. When we reached our destination and stood looking down over the cliff about 600 or 700 feet above the ocean and the "lift" that was to carry us, 2 at a time, to our destination, I gulped. Luigi, the owner (who speaks no Inglesi) took us one by one down the cliff in the lift so he could teach us how to operate the thing. It is really something. The olive trees and huge terraced gardens are lovely. I try not to focus on how high we are in the air and what long way down it would be if we fell.
Well, I have wasted a couple of Euros trying to figure out how to upload some cool photos but alas, we are not allowed to do so from these machines. Perhaps later. Rosemary is trying, too. I am off to the WIND store to get our cell phones configured. Here's hoping we'll be able to blog from the comfort of Rosemary's computer in the evening.
Ciao.
-Kathy
Land and Sea – Portovenere
Peggy here. We are just outside of Portovenere on the Cinque Terre leg of our journey. I am sitting in our living room which overlooks the Mediterranean. We are looking in the face of a sunny day, a relief after yesterday’s cold downpour. I have a private yoga class, then we’ll go to at least one of the towns making up the Cinque Terre and also to a marble quarry that Kathy is especially interested in seeing. Kathy’s high school buddy and her partner arrive tomorrow.
We visited a branch of Rosemary’s family on Sunday. We got to see the inside of the homes of three Italian families, have a meal with them, and sightsee in Genova, which is a beautiful and old city. Our Italian hosts were warm and humorous people and I’m glad we’re going home with pictures of them. Kathy and I returned on Sunday night while Rosemary stayed the night with her family.
The coast is unbelievably beautiful. It’s all about the fish and catching the fish, which is just as it should be. Kathy and I celebrated my birthday yesterday by having lunch in Portovenere. Last night we all went to a supermarket and even that was fun, seeing how the everyday citizen of the Italian Riviera lives. You can buy jeans in the supermarketo. We stocked up on food that we can prepare here in our apartment.
We are staying in an apartment that is accessible for the most part only by an outside “lift”. It’s sort of a ski lift and elevator all in one. The lift takes you for a scenic and slow ride down the side of a hill and stops at the level of your choice. As you hang and glide down, the local cats run alongside of the car hollering and wishing you the best. The lift has broken only once, meaning that we walked up the hill and down the hill in pounding, cold rain. It was fun to be aerobic and we talked a lot about our personal trainer, Derick Sligh, at Gold’s Gym. We will see if the lift is working today but even if it is, it might be a walk up the hill just for the sake of exercise.
The sun is out and it’s time to begin the day of fun in Cinque Terre.
We visited a branch of Rosemary’s family on Sunday. We got to see the inside of the homes of three Italian families, have a meal with them, and sightsee in Genova, which is a beautiful and old city. Our Italian hosts were warm and humorous people and I’m glad we’re going home with pictures of them. Kathy and I returned on Sunday night while Rosemary stayed the night with her family.
The coast is unbelievably beautiful. It’s all about the fish and catching the fish, which is just as it should be. Kathy and I celebrated my birthday yesterday by having lunch in Portovenere. Last night we all went to a supermarket and even that was fun, seeing how the everyday citizen of the Italian Riviera lives. You can buy jeans in the supermarketo. We stocked up on food that we can prepare here in our apartment.
We are staying in an apartment that is accessible for the most part only by an outside “lift”. It’s sort of a ski lift and elevator all in one. The lift takes you for a scenic and slow ride down the side of a hill and stops at the level of your choice. As you hang and glide down, the local cats run alongside of the car hollering and wishing you the best. The lift has broken only once, meaning that we walked up the hill and down the hill in pounding, cold rain. It was fun to be aerobic and we talked a lot about our personal trainer, Derick Sligh, at Gold’s Gym. We will see if the lift is working today but even if it is, it might be a walk up the hill just for the sake of exercise.
The sun is out and it’s time to begin the day of fun in Cinque Terre.
BC (for “Black Cat”) Ringwood, August 16, 1987 – April 12, 2008
BC Ringwood died on Saturday, April 12, 2008, in Seattle, Washington. She was almost 21 years old. She had been very ill and her doctor told us that she would not get well. Kathy spoke with Donna numerous times and with the vet as we made decisions. Our friend Donna wrapped BC in one of Kathy’s shirts and BC died peacefully.
On August 16, 1987, a Sunday afternoon, Kathy’s son Marc found BC on the deck at Kathy's mom's house in San Leandro, California. She was just hours old. Marc, Kathy’s mother, and Kathy raised BC in those first weeks by feeding her with an eye dropper. Marc and Kathy took BC back to Salt Lake City, where she ran up the drapes and ran through the furrows as Kathy and Marc planted their garden.
BC lived in San Leandro, Salt Lake City and Seattle. She traveled back and forth between Salt Lake City and California when Kathy would take Marc to the Univ of California at San Francisco for medical appointments. Beese (her nickname= sat on Kathy’s lap as she drove. BC raised four younger cats – Chinners, Snarf, Ming and Taylor. Taylor is the only cat that has survived BC.
When Marc died two and a half years ago, I asked BC to live for another year because we were very sad at our house and needed her wisdom and comfort. She lived for two and a half years. All cats are good, some are special, and a handful are great. BC was one of the great cats of all times and we will miss her greatly. --Peggy
On August 16, 1987, a Sunday afternoon, Kathy’s son Marc found BC on the deck at Kathy's mom's house in San Leandro, California. She was just hours old. Marc, Kathy’s mother, and Kathy raised BC in those first weeks by feeding her with an eye dropper. Marc and Kathy took BC back to Salt Lake City, where she ran up the drapes and ran through the furrows as Kathy and Marc planted their garden.
BC lived in San Leandro, Salt Lake City and Seattle. She traveled back and forth between Salt Lake City and California when Kathy would take Marc to the Univ of California at San Francisco for medical appointments. Beese (her nickname= sat on Kathy’s lap as she drove. BC raised four younger cats – Chinners, Snarf, Ming and Taylor. Taylor is the only cat that has survived BC.
When Marc died two and a half years ago, I asked BC to live for another year because we were very sad at our house and needed her wisdom and comfort. She lived for two and a half years. All cats are good, some are special, and a handful are great. BC was one of the great cats of all times and we will miss her greatly. --Peggy
Hi from La Spezia and Portovenere
Only have a quick moment to check in but wanted to let everyone know that we made it to beautiful Portovenere on Saturday. We have zero internet access at our apartment, and must travel about 30 minutes to find any. We are hoping to remedy this problem soon, but THIS IS ITALY so you never know for sure.
Rosemary and I are still on the hunt to get my phone configured so I have internet access and I believe we MAY have found a place. But we must return here at 4 p.m. today. So, Peggy will blog, I'll blog some, and then we will see what happens with the phone. So until then . . .
p.s. The weather SUCKS, but it is beautiful.
Kathy
Rosemary and I are still on the hunt to get my phone configured so I have internet access and I believe we MAY have found a place. But we must return here at 4 p.m. today. So, Peggy will blog, I'll blog some, and then we will see what happens with the phone. So until then . . .
p.s. The weather SUCKS, but it is beautiful.
Kathy
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Saying Goodbye to Tuscany
We are packed and ready to roll out, heading for Cinque Terre. We visited another medieval setting yesterday and visited a church with art from the middle ages. It was beautiful and in the event that I have not said so, it is no wonder that the Renaissance painters roared into their twenties with a desire to do something new.
We will visit rosemary's family tomorrow. These are distant relatives, dating back to the great grandfather years, I believe. Kathy's friends arrive in Cinque Terre around Wednesday.
I am pretty tired and looking forward to simply gazing out at the mediterranean sea. There is lots of hiking coming up, something to really get into at Cinque Terre. The chances are good that i will pass on a lot of this but enjoy CT nevertheless.
My apologies to those who are members of the Smerf Nation and who are offended that i held troll dolls up to ridicule. of course they are darling and make such good companions. i will bring home souvenirs to those I offended, perhaps the Smerf Medieval Bridal Oppression Theatre.
We have had a scare with our 21 year old cat, who has now seen the vet, and we are reassured that our B.C. is safe at the vet for 5 days, has a common renal failure, and has a balance disorder. She will be hydrated at the vet and taken care of very well. We wonder how our little Taylor is doing without us and without B.C.
On to the coast, where we do not known what kind of internet access we will have.
The controversy as we leave is: have i misspelled smerf. R and K say i should be spelling this smurf not smerf.
We will visit rosemary's family tomorrow. These are distant relatives, dating back to the great grandfather years, I believe. Kathy's friends arrive in Cinque Terre around Wednesday.
I am pretty tired and looking forward to simply gazing out at the mediterranean sea. There is lots of hiking coming up, something to really get into at Cinque Terre. The chances are good that i will pass on a lot of this but enjoy CT nevertheless.
My apologies to those who are members of the Smerf Nation and who are offended that i held troll dolls up to ridicule. of course they are darling and make such good companions. i will bring home souvenirs to those I offended, perhaps the Smerf Medieval Bridal Oppression Theatre.
We have had a scare with our 21 year old cat, who has now seen the vet, and we are reassured that our B.C. is safe at the vet for 5 days, has a common renal failure, and has a balance disorder. She will be hydrated at the vet and taken care of very well. We wonder how our little Taylor is doing without us and without B.C.
On to the coast, where we do not known what kind of internet access we will have.
The controversy as we leave is: have i misspelled smerf. R and K say i should be spelling this smurf not smerf.
Ciao, Tuscany and Montestigliano
Today we drive to Portovenere, just a few miles south from the Cinque Terre, on the coast. We are excited to see another part of Italy, but sad to leave Montestigliano. It is very beautiful here and the folks at Montestigliano are wonderful.
We aren't sure of our internet access in Portovenere, but hopefully we will find some. Be sure to check back if you don't see any new posts right away. It just means we are searching for an Internet cafe or something.
My 20.5 year old kitty, Beese, was hospitalized yesterday. She has renal failure, which is apparently quite common in cats her age. Our dear friend Donna has been taking care of our kitties and house, and graciously offered to take her to the Cat Clinic. I think we got her there just in the nick of time. As you can imagine, it is difficult for me to not be there with her. She is my 'baby' afterall, and we have been best pals for a very long time. If all goes well, she will spend 5-6 days in the hospital, then come home with meds and fluid injections. I owe Donna BIG TIME!
Ciao for now.
-Kathy
We aren't sure of our internet access in Portovenere, but hopefully we will find some. Be sure to check back if you don't see any new posts right away. It just means we are searching for an Internet cafe or something.
My 20.5 year old kitty, Beese, was hospitalized yesterday. She has renal failure, which is apparently quite common in cats her age. Our dear friend Donna has been taking care of our kitties and house, and graciously offered to take her to the Cat Clinic. I think we got her there just in the nick of time. As you can imagine, it is difficult for me to not be there with her. She is my 'baby' afterall, and we have been best pals for a very long time. If all goes well, she will spend 5-6 days in the hospital, then come home with meds and fluid injections. I owe Donna BIG TIME!
Ciao for now.
-Kathy
Friday, April 11, 2008
Holy Smokin’ Alfa Romeo
After 10 days in Italy what impresses me most is the careful way in which the land is tended. The country is a visual feast. There is no junk: no trashy yards, no cars on blocks. It's not perfect. I’ve seen some litter along the roads and even in the woods at the top of hill that Montestigliano sits on, but mostly the towns and countryside are postcard-perfect.
Spring comes a bit earlier to Tuscany than to Cascadia. The tulips are just past prime, the cherry trees are in full bloom. The fields are emerald green with new wheat about a foot tall, and in the valley below the hill on which our farmhouse sits, a swath of bright yellow rape seed (canola oil seed) draws the eye. It seems that nearly every hill has a walled town or castle dating back a thousand years or so. The contrast of old stone, weathered and pocked, surrounded by new spring growth is, to me, a stunning expression of continual renewal. It is a place to me of abounding hope.
We are a resourceful trio of travelers. We have not found Italians, overrun as they are by tourists, to be exuberantly friendly. But they are more than willing to respond to a request for help. Between our Portuguese/Spanish/French and their (sometimes quite good) English, we have managed to get where we wanted to go. Perhaps with less flair than we might have in an Anglophone place, we are doing pretty darn well. But then there is the driving of our 6 cylinder, diesel, Alfa Romeo, 4-door, intermediate-sized, honkin’ sedan through medieval villages on narrow little streets and tiny arched gates designed a thousand years ago for ox carts.
The roads are actually quite well-marked. You just have to get good at reading 6-10 pointing arrows at a glance. You also have to pay attention to the signs that say one way, no entry, and don’t park here. We don’t know why we see so many cars parked under no-parking signs, but we are sure whatever exemption those cars have doesn’t apply to us. HOWEVER, we did learn that our handicapped placard from the States allows us to drive through the medieval gates past the no entry signs and right into the center of the hill towns, carefully passing all of the tourists trudging up the hill. We were pretty pleased with this arrangement, that is until we took a wrong turn.
We ended up pointed down a steep narrow hill to an archway we would never get through and into a corner we would never manage to turn. A passing pedestrian said to us as we sat there trying to figure out what we were going to do something like “Don’t go there, it will rip your car to shreds.” So I got out of the car and Kath backed and straightened, and backed and straightened while I guided her back up the hill. In case you’ve never driven an Alfa Romeo, I pause to note that the rear deck is extremely high and you can’t see squat out the back. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably about 5 minutes, we were at the top of the hill and pointed in the correct direction. This however, was only after we had the complete attention of everyone within a one-block radius and had filled the air, the car, and our clothes with the acrid smell of a burning clutch. Noses wrinkled as we walked by. Seriously! Two days later, we can still smell it in the car which, fortunately, seems to be running fine. Shaken but whole however, we have motored on, a bit more cautious about where we take the car.
Today is our last day in Tuscany. Tomorrow we go to the Mediterranean coast. As of yesterday it was raining there, so I am hoping for an improvement in the weather. On Sunday we are going to Genoa, where I will meet my 3rd cousin Luciana and her family. I am very excited about this. I know little about my Italian roots (my mother’s side of the family), but expect to learn more. Luciana has letters that my great grandfather wrote to his brother (her great grandfather) in the early 1900’s. We should have a great time.
Ciao,
Rosemary
Spring comes a bit earlier to Tuscany than to Cascadia. The tulips are just past prime, the cherry trees are in full bloom. The fields are emerald green with new wheat about a foot tall, and in the valley below the hill on which our farmhouse sits, a swath of bright yellow rape seed (canola oil seed) draws the eye. It seems that nearly every hill has a walled town or castle dating back a thousand years or so. The contrast of old stone, weathered and pocked, surrounded by new spring growth is, to me, a stunning expression of continual renewal. It is a place to me of abounding hope.
We are a resourceful trio of travelers. We have not found Italians, overrun as they are by tourists, to be exuberantly friendly. But they are more than willing to respond to a request for help. Between our Portuguese/Spanish/French and their (sometimes quite good) English, we have managed to get where we wanted to go. Perhaps with less flair than we might have in an Anglophone place, we are doing pretty darn well. But then there is the driving of our 6 cylinder, diesel, Alfa Romeo, 4-door, intermediate-sized, honkin’ sedan through medieval villages on narrow little streets and tiny arched gates designed a thousand years ago for ox carts.
The roads are actually quite well-marked. You just have to get good at reading 6-10 pointing arrows at a glance. You also have to pay attention to the signs that say one way, no entry, and don’t park here. We don’t know why we see so many cars parked under no-parking signs, but we are sure whatever exemption those cars have doesn’t apply to us. HOWEVER, we did learn that our handicapped placard from the States allows us to drive through the medieval gates past the no entry signs and right into the center of the hill towns, carefully passing all of the tourists trudging up the hill. We were pretty pleased with this arrangement, that is until we took a wrong turn.
We ended up pointed down a steep narrow hill to an archway we would never get through and into a corner we would never manage to turn. A passing pedestrian said to us as we sat there trying to figure out what we were going to do something like “Don’t go there, it will rip your car to shreds.” So I got out of the car and Kath backed and straightened, and backed and straightened while I guided her back up the hill. In case you’ve never driven an Alfa Romeo, I pause to note that the rear deck is extremely high and you can’t see squat out the back. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably about 5 minutes, we were at the top of the hill and pointed in the correct direction. This however, was only after we had the complete attention of everyone within a one-block radius and had filled the air, the car, and our clothes with the acrid smell of a burning clutch. Noses wrinkled as we walked by. Seriously! Two days later, we can still smell it in the car which, fortunately, seems to be running fine. Shaken but whole however, we have motored on, a bit more cautious about where we take the car.
Today is our last day in Tuscany. Tomorrow we go to the Mediterranean coast. As of yesterday it was raining there, so I am hoping for an improvement in the weather. On Sunday we are going to Genoa, where I will meet my 3rd cousin Luciana and her family. I am very excited about this. I know little about my Italian roots (my mother’s side of the family), but expect to learn more. Luciana has letters that my great grandfather wrote to his brother (her great grandfather) in the early 1900’s. We should have a great time.
Ciao,
Rosemary
Turn, turn, turn
Ah, turning! Wood turning is my passion, although admittedly I am still very much a beginner. I hoped to do 2 things in Italy and I’ve been fortunate to do both. First, I got to visit the Sistine chapel. Yesterday we found the little alabaster workshop in Volterra that I hoped to visit. It was magical. I’m sure my traveling companions thought I was overcome by the alabaster dust, but what do they know about turning!
I somehow managed to communicate to the shopkeeper and artist that I turn wood on a lathe. He lit up and took me on a little tour of his shop with Peggy and Rosemary in tow. He showed me how he turns, his tools, alabaster before it has been cut (and we think logs are heavy), and some of his works in progress. I learned that there are 4 natural colors of alabaster: opaque white, milky white, brown and nero (black). Sometimes the brown is lighter in color and looks a little golden, and sometimes the black is lighter and appears gray. If you get a piece made from alabaster that is any other color, it has been painted or dyed. I had no idea. I believe he was going to let me try turning but he realized that I was dressed in dark navy blue and that I’d be a mess if I tried (who cares, right). He gave me a piece of alabaster, safely wrapped in bubble wrap, to bring home to my shop to try my hand at turning it. I can hardly wait.
I finally realized that Rosemary was suffering from what I figured was the alabaster dust, so we said our arriveidercis and headed back into the fresh air.
It turns out Rosemary was not nauseated from the alabaster dust, but rather was still suffering from an “incident” we had a few hours before in San Gimignano.
--Kathy
Note the large boulders of uncut alabaster!
The San Gimignano Incident
Those of you who have known be for a long time know that I love to drive and that I especially love to drive sports cars. My dad had one, well 2, and I drove them all the time. Not only that, I was really good at it. You can imagine my excitement when I learned that our rental car was an Alpha Romeo. Although a bit nerve-wracking at times, I’ve really had fun driving the windy Tuscan roads and through the tiny streets of the medieval hilltop towns. I admit it—I’ve been reliving my youth. And then we reached San Gimignano. Suffice it to say that I headed down a very steep and narrow street, much like many others I’ve driven in the past week or so. This one, however, was so narrow at the bottom that it was impossible to get through. I had to back all the way up the hill. Smoke was billowing from the engine compartment, crowds of people gathering and, I believe taking bets on how many parked cars I’d take out in the process. Folks on the other side of the alley way were betting that I’d take out the wall and the car fender. Rosemary, realizing my desperation, hopped out of the car and provided direction while Peggy reassured me that I was doing a fine job. The AR finally made it to the top of the hill and I found a place to park it and headed for the first Tabacchi for a cappuccino. The smell from whatever was burning in the car (I think it was the clutch) permeated the town square and all the little side roads. People were commenting, wondering about the source of the terrible stench. It was that smell that Rosemary was suffering from. It is still with us, unfortunately, despite leaving the windows down all night. I guess my ‘race car driver’ days are over.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
More Siena
Peggy has named this statue, "Who me?" Sometimes it feels as if there's a life inside the statue waiting to spring out rather than just watching everyone else.
Ever get the feeling you are being watched?
This may be a bank building now. Heads watch from all sides of the building!
--Kathy
Still catching up -- a few views of Siena
This is one of the Sienese streets we drove through. The car thing is a bit of a trick!
Spend Your Touros Wisely
Peggy here. We continue to convert Euros to Dollars like it’s a prayer. We continue to visit mediaval courtyards and to be offered neon green authentic souvenirs. We resist. If I remember correctly, at home we have a dignified mantle above a beautiful fireplace and I think placing a Smerf from Italy on the mantle would cut the look and represent us as even more goofball than we are. I now call Euros “touros” and am becoming fiscally conservative. We’ve had *quite* a past couple of days but I’ll leave it to Kathy tell you about the car thing and the alabaster thing but let me say this: when we left the alabaster turning workshop, Kathy said that that was what she came to Italy to see. When the alabaster turner handed her a piece of alabaster and said, “for home” I said let’s head over to his retail shop and we did and there was not a neon Smerf in sight. We proferred our Euros and happily purchased alabaster turned by a pro.
I continue to see tall beautiful boots and never find them for sale. I lack the Italian language skills to run up to the wearers, take them by the shoulders and yell, “Where did you get those boots?!” I am sentenced to Keens, flat black rowboats. My short nubuck boots, which are cool and would look cool here, prove not wearable on the cobblestone.
I had a private yoga lesson yesterday. The instructor does not speak English and I do not speak Italian so we spoke in Sanskrit. I feel better, stretched and oxygenated. The yoga instructor has the deepest breath that I have ever heard and she gave me a “trick” for learning to do the deep breathing.
We are near enough to Florence so that we see busts of Michelangelo’s David everywhere. Or we see miniatures. David David everywhere but not on a smerf doll yet. I like Rick Steve’s description of the statue as representing how Europe felt about the Renaissance – the hope and excitement, the feeling that they could beat everything. Kathy, always the renegade herself, accidently took a picture in the Sistine Chapel (forbidden) of Michelangelo’s depiction of the final judgement, one of his final works, and “one” can see the big emotional dive from young hopeful sculptor to artistic old guy who’s seen everything and is willing to share his bummed-outedness with you.
We’ve had a glitch in our plans that has worked out just fine. We’re on to Cinque Terre the day after tomorrow but were told last night that our seaview rooms would not work for us because the elevator is broken The repair would be days away. Rosemary and I both love a water view. As it turns out, the owner of the building has Parkinsons and has demanded that the lift be fixed. So, the Mediterranean Sea will be a stone’s throw away. Today is our second to the last in Tuscany and I love Tuscany. The grasses are as green as green gets, the accommodation at Montestigliano is perfect, and even the crumbling castles where the Smerfs lived for all of those centuries are different from town to town. Susan Pennington, who owns and operates Montestigliano, has written a book called “A Tuscan Farm” and even if you can’t get here right now, you have to see and enjoy the book.
I keep wondering if I came to Italy to figure out what to do with the last half of my book, which is not working. You may recall that the book is ultimately about the year (1964) that my mother and my two brothers spent in Holly Park Housing Project. The book is about everyone involved in that and the only person I have left out is me. But how do I write about the experience of a teenager thrust into a world that I did not know existed? I keep thinking of Rafael’s School of Athens, a fresco that the artist managed to put himself in. He’s the guy wearing the black beret whose eyes followed us around the room.
I continue to see tall beautiful boots and never find them for sale. I lack the Italian language skills to run up to the wearers, take them by the shoulders and yell, “Where did you get those boots?!” I am sentenced to Keens, flat black rowboats. My short nubuck boots, which are cool and would look cool here, prove not wearable on the cobblestone.
I had a private yoga lesson yesterday. The instructor does not speak English and I do not speak Italian so we spoke in Sanskrit. I feel better, stretched and oxygenated. The yoga instructor has the deepest breath that I have ever heard and she gave me a “trick” for learning to do the deep breathing.
We are near enough to Florence so that we see busts of Michelangelo’s David everywhere. Or we see miniatures. David David everywhere but not on a smerf doll yet. I like Rick Steve’s description of the statue as representing how Europe felt about the Renaissance – the hope and excitement, the feeling that they could beat everything. Kathy, always the renegade herself, accidently took a picture in the Sistine Chapel (forbidden) of Michelangelo’s depiction of the final judgement, one of his final works, and “one” can see the big emotional dive from young hopeful sculptor to artistic old guy who’s seen everything and is willing to share his bummed-outedness with you.
We’ve had a glitch in our plans that has worked out just fine. We’re on to Cinque Terre the day after tomorrow but were told last night that our seaview rooms would not work for us because the elevator is broken The repair would be days away. Rosemary and I both love a water view. As it turns out, the owner of the building has Parkinsons and has demanded that the lift be fixed. So, the Mediterranean Sea will be a stone’s throw away. Today is our second to the last in Tuscany and I love Tuscany. The grasses are as green as green gets, the accommodation at Montestigliano is perfect, and even the crumbling castles where the Smerfs lived for all of those centuries are different from town to town. Susan Pennington, who owns and operates Montestigliano, has written a book called “A Tuscan Farm” and even if you can’t get here right now, you have to see and enjoy the book.
I keep wondering if I came to Italy to figure out what to do with the last half of my book, which is not working. You may recall that the book is ultimately about the year (1964) that my mother and my two brothers spent in Holly Park Housing Project. The book is about everyone involved in that and the only person I have left out is me. But how do I write about the experience of a teenager thrust into a world that I did not know existed? I keep thinking of Rafael’s School of Athens, a fresco that the artist managed to put himself in. He’s the guy wearing the black beret whose eyes followed us around the room.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
For my barista friend, Jorge
I know this isn't exactly what you meant by a good looking Italian man, but this is the best I've been able to come up with so far...
Field Research
Peggy here. What a day in Tuscany. Rosemary said (and I paraphrase) just the other day said that our wine knowledge could only be furthered by field research. We wound up today with a visit to a winery, purchasing a bottle of two-steps-up-from table wine and a dessert wine that I slugged down perhaps a little too hastily. We found the winery by signery; it was a modest former seminary. We had stopped just moments before at a fancier looking former castle-y looking place where two individuals were swilling and spitting and talking loudly about the wines and into some sort of opinion competition…I ran screaming from the place. It’s not that I don’t enjoy pretentiousness, but I like it better when the topic is something I know, and I don’t know wine.
Around every corner is a castle. They sit on hills and are impressive and protective and if you enter you occasionally find a sign that says “souvenir”. But more than likely you find old old buildings and a plaza, with a cathedral or castle door straight ahead and a fountain in the middle. The last one we visited today had a courtyard and was exactly what I imagined when a teenager and reading novels set in medieval times when men rode off to war and tried not to freeze to death and women rode off to childbirth and tried not to freeze to death. Not much happened in the courtyard until the guys came home with dead boar strapped to their horses and found beautiful women who were mere girls when they left. A lot happened in those courtyards. Read the books.
We found the village at Chianti and the leather good stores that goes with it. I made my first major purchase: a beautiful leather backpack that is roomy and lightweight. I am committed to the backpack because it balances and thought I’d never find one that I could stand in Seattle and now I don’t have to look. Kathy has a new wallet. This is the place to buy leather goods. I don’t know where they’re buying those boots, however. I’ll figure it out.
Tomorrow morning I have a private yoga session at our villa. It’s been 10 days since my last yoga class and I’m certainly feeling the need. What a beautiful setting for yoga. I’m not sure if the yoga instructor will know English but I can follow a yoga class like nobody’s business.
Kathy is in love with the Italian language. She carries around a translation guide. Rosemary speaks Italian now and saves us on an hourly basis. “Most letters get pronounced,” Rosemary says. I am not struggling with the language but am struggling on occasion with the cobblestone.
That’s it for Tuesday. We’re headed to Voltarra tomorrow. Kathy is excited about the alabaster turning. I’m excited about the yoga and the dessert wine. Rosemary is having a wonderful time and just showed us a knock-your-socks-off pictorial that she’s put together.
Around every corner is a castle. They sit on hills and are impressive and protective and if you enter you occasionally find a sign that says “souvenir”. But more than likely you find old old buildings and a plaza, with a cathedral or castle door straight ahead and a fountain in the middle. The last one we visited today had a courtyard and was exactly what I imagined when a teenager and reading novels set in medieval times when men rode off to war and tried not to freeze to death and women rode off to childbirth and tried not to freeze to death. Not much happened in the courtyard until the guys came home with dead boar strapped to their horses and found beautiful women who were mere girls when they left. A lot happened in those courtyards. Read the books.
We found the village at Chianti and the leather good stores that goes with it. I made my first major purchase: a beautiful leather backpack that is roomy and lightweight. I am committed to the backpack because it balances and thought I’d never find one that I could stand in Seattle and now I don’t have to look. Kathy has a new wallet. This is the place to buy leather goods. I don’t know where they’re buying those boots, however. I’ll figure it out.
Tomorrow morning I have a private yoga session at our villa. It’s been 10 days since my last yoga class and I’m certainly feeling the need. What a beautiful setting for yoga. I’m not sure if the yoga instructor will know English but I can follow a yoga class like nobody’s business.
Kathy is in love with the Italian language. She carries around a translation guide. Rosemary speaks Italian now and saves us on an hourly basis. “Most letters get pronounced,” Rosemary says. I am not struggling with the language but am struggling on occasion with the cobblestone.
That’s it for Tuesday. We’re headed to Voltarra tomorrow. Kathy is excited about the alabaster turning. I’m excited about the yoga and the dessert wine. Rosemary is having a wonderful time and just showed us a knock-your-socks-off pictorial that she’s put together.
Catching up
It occurs to me we haven't said much about Rome except that it is a big, busy city. We had a fabulous private tour of the Vatican--about 6 or more hours. Some of you have heard my story of being in Rome nearly 30 years ago. I had just 2 short days and I wanted to see the Sistine Chapel. Unfortunately, the first Pope Paul (the pope who lived about a month after being elected) had died and a new pope was being elected. Elections are held in the Sistine chapel, so it was closed.
This time, I did get to see the Sistine chapel. There was a slight glitch though. Apparently some years ago a Japanese firm was hired to clean the artwork in the chapel. Apparently the Vatican did not wish to pay the company for their work, so they were given exclusive rights to photographs for 30 years. No one but that company is allowed to photograph the artwork in the chapel.
Well, I think I must've bumped the shutter button on my camera a couple of times because I somehow came away with a few photos. Here's one of Michaelangelo's The Judgement. Enjoy....
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Reading and Resting in Tuscany
We have had our 2nd full day in Tuscany, a day in which we took it slow. We had had 8 days of activity if you include the first day’s flight; flights can be a wrestling match. Kathy and Rosemary did laundry and grocery shopping. We ate lunch in a bar, which, in Italy, serves a fairly full range of good food. Fortunately, Rosemary has taken to the language and gets us in and out of places and gets us fed.
We met Susan, the proprietor of Montestigliano, the farm where we are staying. She is a charming Brit and gave us tips for getting along and not ticking off the country that is hosting us. Kathy, Rosemary and I are all deferential and polite people, so it isn’t as though we would have made enemies anyway, but being instructed in the niceties never hurts.
Susan has gone all out looking for a yoga class for me. She is thinking of a private lesson, one to be held here at Montestigliano. The rooms are perfect for yoga, with counters at many different levels and unused walls. There’s a yoga class tomorrow night in Sienna so I may just go to that, but it’s been 10 days since my last yoga class and it would be easier to simply have a private. There are Iyengar yoga teachers here.
Kathy got us up this morning to work out with our bands that she bought especially for the trip. We are walking a lot, but that certainly does not replace the workouts that Kathy and I have grown to love.
We have a library filled with bodice rippers but amongst the romances I found a book I’ve wanted to re-read: Who will run the frog hospital. It’s by Lorrie Moore. I read it years ago and remember saying when I put it down, “I wish I had written that.” It’s a rather dark story of two young women who are 15 years old in 1972. It is an observant book about being 15 and also about the times – 1972. The voice the book is written from is solid, never wavering and never falling into a false pit of cheerfulness. I have wrestled with the desire to fall into that pit as I’ve been writing and I’m glad to have an example of writing where the writer did not veer off on the cheap and easy path of hope based on nothing.
Tomorrow we’re visiting a gothic abbey and just generally tooling around. It’s fun to see Kathy’s reaction to Catholic settings. Rosemary and I are both recovering Catholic girls and “get” the message; Kathy has funny questions about the meaning. We’re all interested in walking around the farm, which is quite beautiful and quiet.
We have internet access and expect to blog every day. We’re in Tuscany for a few more days and then it’s on to Cinque Terre. See you tomorrow, everyone!
We met Susan, the proprietor of Montestigliano, the farm where we are staying. She is a charming Brit and gave us tips for getting along and not ticking off the country that is hosting us. Kathy, Rosemary and I are all deferential and polite people, so it isn’t as though we would have made enemies anyway, but being instructed in the niceties never hurts.
Susan has gone all out looking for a yoga class for me. She is thinking of a private lesson, one to be held here at Montestigliano. The rooms are perfect for yoga, with counters at many different levels and unused walls. There’s a yoga class tomorrow night in Sienna so I may just go to that, but it’s been 10 days since my last yoga class and it would be easier to simply have a private. There are Iyengar yoga teachers here.
Kathy got us up this morning to work out with our bands that she bought especially for the trip. We are walking a lot, but that certainly does not replace the workouts that Kathy and I have grown to love.
We have a library filled with bodice rippers but amongst the romances I found a book I’ve wanted to re-read: Who will run the frog hospital. It’s by Lorrie Moore. I read it years ago and remember saying when I put it down, “I wish I had written that.” It’s a rather dark story of two young women who are 15 years old in 1972. It is an observant book about being 15 and also about the times – 1972. The voice the book is written from is solid, never wavering and never falling into a false pit of cheerfulness. I have wrestled with the desire to fall into that pit as I’ve been writing and I’m glad to have an example of writing where the writer did not veer off on the cheap and easy path of hope based on nothing.
Tomorrow we’re visiting a gothic abbey and just generally tooling around. It’s fun to see Kathy’s reaction to Catholic settings. Rosemary and I are both recovering Catholic girls and “get” the message; Kathy has funny questions about the meaning. We’re all interested in walking around the farm, which is quite beautiful and quiet.
We have internet access and expect to blog every day. We’re in Tuscany for a few more days and then it’s on to Cinque Terre. See you tomorrow, everyone!
Castillino and Chianti
Today we took a short drive north of Siena to a little town called Castillino in Chianti and had a fabulous lunch. It was like eating art only it tasted better! These towns are incredible--the old and the new. I'm in love yet again. Here are a few pics from the last few days. Today we drove through a gate into Monteriggiano that the car barely cleared. It was the tightest space yet. I would hate to scrape up our cute little Alfa Romeo. More tomorrow after we visit Volterra! Peggy is having her very own yoga class here at Montestigliano in the morning before we venture out.
Ciao-Kathy
Ciao-Kathy
Monday, April 7, 2008
Finally, a day of rest
I just took some fabulous photos from the terrace where we are staying outsie of Siena, but for some reason, I can't find them on my camera disk at the moment, so Treve Fountain in Rome will have to do.
We finally have fairly reliable internet access. What a relief. As you may imagine, I have been going through withdrawls!
Italy is wonderful, although I must admit, getting around has been a bit more complicated than I remembered. Today we have been doing mundane things like working out with our bands, doing laundry, shopping at the market in San Rocco il Pilli, and getting acclimated to the area. Susan, who is our host here at Montistigliano, is a Brit who's married to one of the Donate brothers. The Donates own the farm (still a working farm producing wheat, sunflowers, and of course, olive oil. They've restored a number of the buildings on the 3,000 acre farm and rent them out to vacationers like us. Tomorrow we will undoubtedly go to Volterra and perhaps San Giamiani.
Driving through the medieval cities has been quite an experience. One minute you are squeezing your way between 2 stone buildings and the next moment, you are in a huge piazza filled with hundreds of people, shops, gelatarias and souviener stands. We are allowed to drive in these areas usually restricted from traffic because we have a 'disability' permit. At times it is quite harrowing. I've yet to turn the wrong direction down a street, which would undoubtedly be disasterous. There is barely room for one car and a couple of pedestrians, let alone 2.
I must go find my photos. More later...
-Kathy
A Melonball in Paradise
Greetings from Sienna. We arrived in Tuscany late yesterday afternoon, driving up to our farmhouse, Casa Adriana, at Montestigliano. We fled Rome and drove the freeway on a sunny day. It is cold here, but bright. We will be billed for our use of heat at the villa. In Rome, we were billed in restaurants for the use of glasses and silverware, so we are not surprised that heat costs.
Rome has left me speechless, so I will turn to talking about anything but Rome except to say that those ruins are too cool and that basilica is the best basilica I’ve ever been in. And hats off to Raphael and thanks for painting yourself into School of Athens. And thanks to our tour guide Rosanna for putting the School of Athens fresco into a context that brought it more alive than I could have hoped for. I wondered why Raphael would paint the Greeks and now I see the larger message.
Tuscany spreads before us. We spent the day in Sienna, part of it in their splendid plaza after walking through the narrow streets and guessing how old the buildings are. I can only imagine what the interiors of the buildings are like. My question remains: why, in the buildings that surround the plaza, are the verandahs built from the second floor only? Is it a question of balance? Is it because the second floor houses a large common room and Tuscans who were visiting would spill out onto the verandah to drink and chat? Why not the top floor? Buildings around the plaza are 5, 6, 7 stories high…why not put the deck off the penthouse?
I am a fashion conscious individual and am sorry to say that I brought some of the wrong clothes. The Italians sure know how to dress. I’ve never seen so much brown and olive and such a lack of your bolder colors. Nobody here looks like a popsicle, except perhaps me. Territory Ahead outfitted me with among other things a melon colored sweater, which I wore today. Tall boots are a big thing here and are oftentimes tucked into the boots (sorry Vanessa). You won’t see sweatpants and matching sweatshirt, nor anything in pastel or stripes. On one of our excursions to the Bellevue Mall Territory Ahead, Kathy chose an apple green confusing weave sweater, which fit me to a “t”. I bought it but returned it unworn a week later, a wardrobe choice that I thanked a certain higher power for when I entered one of the many fantastic churches here in Italy.
You will remember my dislike of crop pants expressed daily on our road trip through Texas and Oklahoma. I have seen only one pair of crop pants and, yes, perhaps it is a seasonal thing, but I am sure that these Italians do not show up anywhere in fruit-colored floods. As we closed out last year’s roadtrip, I delivered on what I promised – I designed America’s Ugliest Outfit. I have spotted Italy’s Most Cool Outfit and almost asked for the autograph of the woman wearing it.
The churches are incredible and we are still at the point in our journey where we go into every one we see. There is something to be said for churches outdoing each other. The one that gets my highest mark is the church celebrating St. Minerva. It had relics and marble and all kinds of reminders of how Sorry we should all be.
Italy is paradise and I am happy to be here. We are working on internet access, which is turning out to be more difficult than we had imagined. That’s why our blog is off to a slow start. But we expect to blog on a much more regular basis. Ciao!
Peggy
Rome has left me speechless, so I will turn to talking about anything but Rome except to say that those ruins are too cool and that basilica is the best basilica I’ve ever been in. And hats off to Raphael and thanks for painting yourself into School of Athens. And thanks to our tour guide Rosanna for putting the School of Athens fresco into a context that brought it more alive than I could have hoped for. I wondered why Raphael would paint the Greeks and now I see the larger message.
Tuscany spreads before us. We spent the day in Sienna, part of it in their splendid plaza after walking through the narrow streets and guessing how old the buildings are. I can only imagine what the interiors of the buildings are like. My question remains: why, in the buildings that surround the plaza, are the verandahs built from the second floor only? Is it a question of balance? Is it because the second floor houses a large common room and Tuscans who were visiting would spill out onto the verandah to drink and chat? Why not the top floor? Buildings around the plaza are 5, 6, 7 stories high…why not put the deck off the penthouse?
I am a fashion conscious individual and am sorry to say that I brought some of the wrong clothes. The Italians sure know how to dress. I’ve never seen so much brown and olive and such a lack of your bolder colors. Nobody here looks like a popsicle, except perhaps me. Territory Ahead outfitted me with among other things a melon colored sweater, which I wore today. Tall boots are a big thing here and are oftentimes tucked into the boots (sorry Vanessa). You won’t see sweatpants and matching sweatshirt, nor anything in pastel or stripes. On one of our excursions to the Bellevue Mall Territory Ahead, Kathy chose an apple green confusing weave sweater, which fit me to a “t”. I bought it but returned it unworn a week later, a wardrobe choice that I thanked a certain higher power for when I entered one of the many fantastic churches here in Italy.
You will remember my dislike of crop pants expressed daily on our road trip through Texas and Oklahoma. I have seen only one pair of crop pants and, yes, perhaps it is a seasonal thing, but I am sure that these Italians do not show up anywhere in fruit-colored floods. As we closed out last year’s roadtrip, I delivered on what I promised – I designed America’s Ugliest Outfit. I have spotted Italy’s Most Cool Outfit and almost asked for the autograph of the woman wearing it.
The churches are incredible and we are still at the point in our journey where we go into every one we see. There is something to be said for churches outdoing each other. The one that gets my highest mark is the church celebrating St. Minerva. It had relics and marble and all kinds of reminders of how Sorry we should all be.
Italy is paradise and I am happy to be here. We are working on internet access, which is turning out to be more difficult than we had imagined. That’s why our blog is off to a slow start. But we expect to blog on a much more regular basis. Ciao!
Peggy
Friday, April 4, 2008
Roma
Roma--I think I am in love all over again! Today we explored the Pantheon, then walked to the Treve Fountain and to the Spanish steps. It was fun to see Peggy and Rosemary so surprised when we turned a corner and the beautiful fountain was in front of us. It is such a surprise! We hopped in a cab and crossed the Tiber River to the Trastevore area--the medievel part of Rome. It was fantastico. Rosemary and I are off again to explore some more tonight before leaving in the morning for Tuscany. I am blogging from an Internet cafe near the hotel since we still have not been able to hook up with our own computers. European keyboards are different. There is no apostrophe so I can not use contractions! Anyway, here is a little glimpse of the Trastevore area. More tomorrow, I am sure.
Ciao.
Kathy
Thursday, April 3, 2008
A beautiful spring night in Roma
We have been delayed posting to the blog due to technical difficulties but hopefully we will have more success now.
We have been here 2 days and seen 2,000 years! Ancient ruins yesterday, Vatican tour today. The Pantheon and more tomorrow. The best fun of all has been connecting with people. I think Rosemary has found a new home. Her Italiano is very good and when she speaks, people treat her like a long lost sister. It is very fun to watch her in action.
Peggy is sitting next to me and is completely speechless. We are at an internet cafe near our hotel just to type a note on the blog to let you all know we are having great time and that we will be posting more regularly now.
Peggy s only disappointment has been Michelangelo s design of uniforms for the Swedish guard. In all else he excels. He should stick to those pietas.
And so until tomorrow--
Ciao!
Kathy and Peggy
We have been here 2 days and seen 2,000 years! Ancient ruins yesterday, Vatican tour today. The Pantheon and more tomorrow. The best fun of all has been connecting with people. I think Rosemary has found a new home. Her Italiano is very good and when she speaks, people treat her like a long lost sister. It is very fun to watch her in action.
Peggy is sitting next to me and is completely speechless. We are at an internet cafe near our hotel just to type a note on the blog to let you all know we are having great time and that we will be posting more regularly now.
Peggy s only disappointment has been Michelangelo s design of uniforms for the Swedish guard. In all else he excels. He should stick to those pietas.
And so until tomorrow--
Ciao!
Kathy and Peggy
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