Pizza and Cappuccino

Were I writing a situation comedy about Americans who visit Italy, I would have nailed it.

This morning, we were enjoying a cappuccino and sharing, I must say, one incredibly delicious Nutella-stuffed coronetto when all of a sudden the quiet was interrupted by a flourish of all I can describe as a walking-talking What-the-Hell!!!  We nearly fell off our seats.

Entering the small cafe was a little group of women....five of them to be precise.  The first wave came in and stepped up to the counter where the pizza was displayed, loudly gesticulating.We started to chuckle and nearly slid off our seats in, what? Embarassment? Total shock and disbelief?  And then.....we heard a voice....oh boy, did we ever hear it.....

I WANT TO HAVE THE CAWFEE!!!

Up to the counter she went, totally un-fazed, totally not even TRYING to be discreet or "polite" or, in fact, anything that could fit into a guide book on Italian cafe etiquette.  She met up with her friends, also, we found out, members of the tour group from the U.S., and so, so ready to conquer it all.  The waitress, we noted, had a smile on her face that was wider than anything I have ever seen on a waitress face. She was amused and now, so were we....

"Give me an espresso and pour some of that stuff in it...yeah, sambuca, just pour it in!"

"And I'll have some pizza and I am paying for her and her and her....."

With each of her orders - her very loud orders to the barista, we also smiled wider and wider.  Finally, I had to ask..."Are you from New York?"

She: "Yes I am from the BRONX, Tremont Avenue. I live in Kentucky now"

Me:  "My father was a cop, on the 4-3, I know Tremont Avenue!"

Friend:  "Guess how many kids she has!"

Me:  I have no idea.

She:  "Fourteen. All with the same husband of thirty years"

Holy Cow!

Turns out that this was her first-ever trip to Italy, she's Italian American and she was loving every last bit of it. There is nothing this lady wanted to miss.

You know, I've been to Italy many times.  I love all things Italian (er, most of them - I can give you a list of those things that I do NOT like as easily as those I do).  I suddenly realized how jaded I have become.  My new pal from the Bronx was a little angel who's entrance into the cafe was a reminder to me of how very, very exciting it can be to travel to a place that, in giving birth to 14 babies, one may not ever have envisioned.  She's in Italy. She wants it all and she's going to make sure she gets it all.

So, for this morning, it was pure joy watching a fellow American getting it all, all at once.  It was a thrill to be part of the scene.

Pizza and cappuccino...together?  Why the hell not? Enjoy Italy my friend and take it all in!!!

To Life!

To Spoleto We Go

Being a city girl at heart, I'm not terribly certain about the meaning of the term "make hay", but I think it means that one is urged to do something (like mowing down a wheat field), when the time is right to do it.  So, yesterday, one that started and ended with sunshine, was a day to make hay. The weather forecast was accurate for once and we decided to not waste one single minute, fearing that the accuracy will continue and we will be faced with more rain soon.

Our apartment is located in the upper part of the ancient hill town of Assisi.  This part of town is known as the "Parte de Sopra" and we're located approximately 160 meters away from a bus stop area called the Piazza Matteotti. Cars that drive through our neighborhood, do so with caution and always with side-view mirrors tucked in.  Most of them just about fit, width-wise and when encountering one on the narrow streets,you have to find a place into which you can tuck your body as the vehicle passes by.  There isn't room for both your body and the car so the bigger one wins.

The train station is located in Santa Maria degli Angeli, the "service town" of Assisi, down the hill, outside of the ancient walls, and is 2.2 miles of what I consider an easy walk.  Coming back, not so much.Buses go from the P. Matteotti to the station on a regular basis so the option is aways open.  Most of the time, I opt for the walk and yesterday, we did the option of .....compromise.  Caught the bus at the other end of town, the "Parte de Sotto", and exited at the train station for the next leg of our journey and some more challenges and caught the train to the beautiful hill town of Spoleto.

I'm not good with reading transportation schedules.  Or maps. But I do have a good sense of direction and time.  Joe's great on schedule-reading and maps.  He can decode the "you are here" symbols and know where to turn to go to "we want to be there".  Together, we make a good team.  And, we both like to walk, accepting challenges along the way.  He says that I have a great "stride" and I accept his compliment.  Walking is my sport.  It's the only thing I feel really "good" at in fact.  

Spoleto,one of the largest towns in southern Umbria, is another walled medieval hill town.  The lower parts of its wall are from the 6th Century, BC. Spoletium, the first Roman settlement, began in 241 BC, evidenced by remnants of this culture throughout the city. From the top of the city, which is accessed by seven sets of escalators, the views of the surrounding valley are incredible. We were able to enjoy an unhurried lunch at a table by a window and stroll leisurely through the un-crowded town, enjoying the sun and the beautiful architecture. We prefer travel in the off-season for many reasons, not least of all, the lack of tourist crowds.  We almost had the town to ourselves.  

I guess you could say we made hay. Abbiamo fatto il fieno.  (I bet there's an idiom for it here)

Yes, we walked up to that fortress

I Love Bosco!

We've been here a week now.

Want to know a  secret?

I get a bit homesick for at least the first week that i am in Italy.   

I know the feeling will pass but for now, I honestly miss a lot of the life I left behind and the things I took for granted.  I also miss those things that I took for granted during my last visit.

My favorite barista in my favorite cafe has gone on to a new job so, I no longer have a favorite cafe.  So much of what I enjoyed was woven into her personality and the way she made me feel welcome and comforted every morning.  The whole place now has a different vibe.  I miss the blue skies and sunshine that marked most of my former days.  Most of the time here so far has been spent in rain.  We've barely seen the sun for any prolonged amount of time and we don't have the rental car at the moment so there's no escaping.

But.....on the ONE good-weather day, we did take full advantage of the gift and set out on a path of serendipity that led to a place I will never take for granted, the beautiful Bosco de San Francesco, known as the "Other Half of Assisi".

The Bosco is a sacred landscape made up of forests (bosco), olive groves, cultivated fields, hills (lots of them) plains, farmhouses and a little parish church.  Sheltered behind the area of the Basilica, the land was donated to the FAI (Fondo Ambiente Italiano) in 2008.  When the land was donated, it was a completely abandoned and neglected woodland, badly in need of attention and yet, there was a feeling that this was a special place. A stretch of pink cyclamen hinted at the true beauty that could be aroused with love and care over time. And....lots of hard work.

Leading landscape experts and architects applied themselves to eliminating damages and as paths were cleared and new life was planted, it was determined that this would not simply be a place for a walk in the woods. As life regenerated, olive trees, flowering specimens and lush greenery pushed forward as signs that indicated that visiting the woodland would mean setting out on a sort of interior journey to discover the message of "perfect harmony between Man and Creation" that was taught centuries before by St. Francis.

The end of the route culminates with an extraordinary piece of land art called the Tezzo Paradiso, specially created for the Bosco by Michelangelo Pistoletto.  It's three concentric circles of olive trees, with a walking path that allows one to weave around and actually feel the connection.  If nothing else, one easily finds peace and tranquility in making the rounds.

We spent a few lovely hours in the Bosco, not only getting a great physical workout, but also a spiritual one. It's hard to be homesick when one feels totally part of the universe, so much like we felt when we were on the Camino de Santiago.  

St James may very well have been in cahoots with St. Francis.  Now, if the saint in charge of transferring photos from iPhones to MacBooks would only come forward, I would be happy to post some amazing photos of not only the Bosco but the beautiful fireside lunch that we had at il Mulino, a farmhouse right there at the intersection of lovely and wonderous.

La Lingua

Can you imagine approaching a stranger in the U.S. and asking "scusi, parle Italiano?", especially if you were anywhere but in the Bronx?  I'm certain that the answer would be "huh?" and don't even think it would be worth the breath.

So, I am always amazed at how many Italians speak English and how well they do.

I struggle with the language.  Just told Joe last night that it is interesting how well I do with my "words" and even nowadays my "sentences" when not in the presence of a native speaker and while nowhere even vaguely near this country. I can formulate thoughts, plot them out, and clearly speak them in my head in....going out on a limb here.....perfect Italian.  Maybe I should make a few videos to prove to myself that I can do that.  Maybe I can just use the videos when in Italy, as my little voice boxes because when I am here, the words simply get in the way. Joe says it has to do with becoming worried about making a mistake.

Another point about the use of language makes me realize that I am not in my Mother-land.  Here, men actually ASK directions.  Yes, they do.  And at least twice a day, I am approached by an Italian man, who, in Italian asks ME how to get to a specific place.  Fortunate for me, most of the requests are to major churches.  I must look like a holy Italian or maybe even a nun.  So, I've actually gotten fairly good at giving directions. Hand gestures help a lot too, especially in directing.  Especially in Italy.

"Scusi, Senora.  Dove tomba San Francesco?"

"Scusi, Senora.  Dove casa San Francesco?"

"Scusi, Senora. Dove Basilica?"

"Scusi, Senora. Dove Santa Chiara?"

There's a pattern to this that makes it oh, so much easier for this senora. Assisi is a small hill town with an upper (sopra) part,  a central (piazza del Comune) part, and a lower (sotto) part. Each part is anchored down with at least one major landmark. So, all you have to add to that are the words, "dritto" or "straight", "destra" or "right", and "sinistra", left.  "Vicino" also becomes a handy word, meaning "in the area..nearby" and it allows one to be vague but at least not too misleading.

Add arm movements and an air of confidence to the conversation and it might sound like this...

"Alora, dritto e sinistra, dritto e destra e, bah, in vicino.  Arriverderci"

My father was also very good at this type of thing.  He was a cop on a beat in New York.  Countless times each day, he would be asked for directions and he could not have cared less about what language who was speaking.  He held fast on the use of his own language.  He said it was all very easy for him because no matter who asked, no matter how complicated the route to the final destination requested, he always had the same (and to his way of thinking, correct) answer. In. Perfect. English.

"STRAIGHT AHEAD".

My father, the Italian teacher.

Or maybe I just look like a cop?

Santa Maria della Rose

Above, the Alpha, below, Omega

It's known as "MARIA" and it is an exhibition of sacred sculptural artwork of the Italian artist Guido Dettoni della Grazia.  The work is a permanent exhibition, stunningly installed in the 16th Century Church of Santa Maria delle Rose on a quiet street in the upper section of Assisi.

The installation is based upon hand-sized sculptures, a total of thirty-three (for each year in the life of Jesus), encased individually in lighted glass cylinders that hang from a round steel frame. The tiny sculptures, each made from a different of the Earth's woods, are planted in soil. Overhead one sees in the frame the letter "A" representing "Alpha" and below, the form of "O" for "Omega".

Adjacent to the circular exhibit is a large marble sculpture, beautiful in its simplicity and breathtaking in its elegance. Inside the circle, on a table, lie several white marble sculptures, intended to be picked up and held by visitors.  A guide encourages this and carefully explains that each depicts the life of Mary as it is manipulated in the hand.  With grace and reverence, she demonstrates, using her own hand, how the sculpture fits into the palm.  We are invited to be fully involved by touching, smelling the fragrance of the trees of Mallorca, looking closely and feeling the shape and its subtle changes that evoke the feeling that we have a uniquely meaningful life in our own hands if only for a few moments.

Different angles allow one to distinguish significant moments in the life of Mary. Genuflecting, carrying the pitcher to the well, pregnant with her child, Jesus, Mother and child, and finally, seen from a horizontal perspective, she becomes the Dove of Peace.

Mini-Me

The city of Perugia, Italy has approximately 529 thousand fewer residents than the city of Boston, Massachusetts, according to the 2018 census.  It has lots of newer high-rise (for this part of the country) apartment buildings in its surrounds and is probably best known for its older parts, all of which are way, way uphill.  The first time we attempted to get to the Centro by car, we simply could not do it.  We drove around and around, unable to find a space to park.  We abandoned our plans. Sadly.  Fast forward to the present time. The problem was solved in 2008.

A few trips ago, an Umbrian-resident friend suggested that we try again.  Only this time, another of those wonderful secrets that keep us returning to the region was revealed.  "Park your car in the big, free lot and take the Minimetro up into the center" was her advice.  Una donna geniale.  A genius, that woman!

More about the charming city of Perugia later. It was early on our list of places to be in Umbria because the train station was the drop off center for our rental car. That's a whole other story.  We are carless and fancy-free now.  Happiness comes by foot. With an umbrella.  That's also a whole other story, one that hopefully, will have a happy ending one of these days.

So, I re-introduced Joe to the Mini and off we went, up, up and up to the top or "centro" of Perugia, after making four of the seven stops that the tiny cars briefly make.  The cars are small and they keep on coming so there's never a stampede to catch one and entrances and exits are done with civility and efficiency.  When all the stops have been completed, the tiny cars go around a bend and start all over on the  gleaming rail.  Miss your stop, catch it on the next pass. Toddlers love this stuff.  Nonnas love this stuff.
Take a cranky grandchild on the mini and you've rescued the day. While it is not an amusement park ride, it still is fun.  Too bad kids just take it for granted.  We sit on our seats in total amazement as we imagine zipping up Route 3 from Quincy to downtown Boston. Or is this another of those "Only in Italy" happenstances that we see happening every day? While in Italy.

Ciao!

Festa di Tutti Santi

Standing in the security line at Logan Airport Thursday afternoon, I remarked to Joe that the feelings I used to have at that point, the first step in the departure to Italy, did not feel the same as it used to. I used to be balloon-like, the tiny bits of air entering as I stepped out of the car onto the airport pavement.  Now, I enter with the balloon full.  I no longer have that kiddie-before-the-party feeling. Kind of sad in a way. But also kind of good because I embark with the wisdom that many previous journeys have conferred and that, that feeling of confidence and bravery is what gets us from Point A to Point B and allows for the rapid shift in attitude and lifestyle that it takes to enter a country and arrive in a small town on the first day of an Italian holiday weekend.

Picture Cape Cod.  It's Friday, July third of a very good year.  One in which the weather has so far been perfect.  See, in your mind, cars, bumper to bumper, all going in the same direction, all at the same time.....and triple it.

The flight over was uneventful.  The wait for our car rental agreement to be completed, long and for what reason, I don't know but it always takes a long time to rent a car at the airport in Rome.  While I am not a "car" person, I do look forward to the end result and after the wait, to see what kind of Italian, death-defying, quirky car we are getting for the weekend. This time, the wait paid off for Joe in the form of an Alfa Romeo Giulia, the very car he and our son have been sharing sighs over for the past few years. Good thing it's roomy and comfortable.  We spent a heck of a lot of time in it yesterday. Again, that picture of the Friday of Fourth of July weekend.

So, throw in the holiday of Festa di Tutti Santi (All Saints - the day after the gruesome celebration of the dead, Halloween), add a bit of olive oil harvest, new wine and chestnuts and the love of a good time, and you can start to imagine how, after hours in traffic getting here, the little town of Assisi was overflowing with celebrants.  People and cars, everywhere. This weekend, for the tourist industry in Umbria, is tantamount to Labor Day in the States.  After this, the show will be over for a while.  After this, the peace and quiet that makes Umbria so inviting to us, will be back.  But for now, it's time to join in the celebrations.  We're here.  We're getting our Assisi legs back. We will need them for this hill town!  Joe is thrilled to be a part of the life that I have described for him each time I returned home from my solo stays here.  This time, we are once again Two For the Road, no matter how filled those roads, ready and willing to be a part of the action or the tranquility, together.  And together, we will be making more memories and remembering that life is a journey, fifty years (almost) together is worth celebrating, and that we have weeks ahead of us that surely will be filled with the stuff that makes it all worth the hours in.

So, we're off to the supermarket today and to a harvest celebration followed by a birthday party.

Andiamo!