Chapter Fifty-Four: Firenze

Originally written Oct 15

Rusty writes:

Piazza della Repubblica on Sunday morning. There is a nip in the air, but the warmth of the sun feels so good. I scoot my chair further out of the shadow of the umbrella. We are seated at one of the several cafes whose army of tables are in formation on opposing sides of the piazza. Sasi has joined us for breakfast. For me, it’s a cup of hot chocolate and a fruit tart. The chocolate isn’t hot and the glaze on the tart has more flavor than the fruit. But nevermind, the point of being here isn’t the food. It’s the mere fact of being able to afford a 35-euro conversation with friends in this square in this city on this beautiful morning.

In 1984-85, I was a student with the Florida State University program in Firenze. I was so fortunate to be there, as I barely had enough money to pay my school expenses during my time in Tallahassee. Through a fortunate series of events, I lived in Firenze for 8 months, with even enough money to travel from time to time. But since I had a 4-month financial aid package and was determined to live in Italy for 8 months, I had to stretch every Lira to its limit. And sitting at a table in Piazza della Repubblica was a luxury, one that rarely, if ever, crossed my mind. I passed through the piazza many times on my way to the train, the Ponte Vecchio, or the pensione. But I was never tempted by the overpriced coffee and pastries.

One law about Italian dining is that the length of time one spends at the table is determined solely by the occupants. Today in October 2009, I was determined to stretch our breakfast time as long as possible. As I sat back and listened to Sasi and Pepper talk, I looked around the square and cast my mind back 25 years. I imagined a similar sunny October day in 1984, sitting at the same table. At that time, the Italian automobile was king, with the Vespa a close second. The noise of a motor could be heard in every corner of the city at every hour of the day. How could I possibly have enjoyed this beautiful scene with the assault on my ears of hundreds of combustion engines passing by? Would I have smelled the chocolate with the exhaust of 2-stroke engines blowing through the square? How long before my companions and I would have paid our bill and escaped the square?

In the intervening years, the city leaders have slowly removed cars from the city center. With each visit, I would arrive at Piazza della Signoria or walk the Lungarno to the rumor of voices and footsteps, instead of running motors. Gradually, Firenze has become once again a city of pedestrians (and a few horses). I don’t know when traffic was diverted from Piazza della Repubblica, but on this fine morning, only the occasional taxi cruised lazily by. (As a matter of fact, on the Sunday following this visit to the city, the final blow to the car was imposed – the mayor of Firenze prohibited even buses from Piazza del Duomo.)

I realized this morning in Piazza della Repubblica on October 15, 2009 could not have, and should not have happened to me on October 15, 1984, nor in any previous year. Both I and Firenze had to mature and change to make this perfect day.

 

Chapter Fifty-Three: Lucignana

Originally written Oct 14

Rusty writes:

During his visit, Pino discovered a hilltop town near Ghivizzano. He raved about Lucignana and included a few pictures. Naturally, it aroused Pepper’s curiosity, so he included it on his list of villages to visit. The name nagged at me, and it seems somehow familiar.

One afternoon was free of obligations. It was perfect day. The sun shone in a clear blue sky and the hills were still dark green, with the occasional brush stroke of red hinting at the arrival of autumn. As we were returning home from lunch, I spotted the sign-post for Lucignana and turned off the main highway. We found ourselves climbing steeply, first in a long curve around the hill and then in a series of sharp switchbacks. Framed by a gap in the trees was a hilltop village in the distance. Further up, we entered a shadowy tunnel of trees, thick and humid enough for ferns to grow. Finally we arrived at in the tiny village of Lucignana. It is on a high mound that protrudes from the higher mountain and overlooks the Serchio Valley. It is set back further than Barga and Coreglia, so you can see the eastern face of western mountains, but not the down into the valley itself.

 We parked the car – no easy feat, as the parking spaces are arranged single file abutting the town itself and the road is just wide enough for the parked car and one passing vehicle. Like many of the villages in the valley, Lucignana seems from afar to be open and welcoming until you arrive at its outer perimeter. It presents the visitor with blank walls, with here and there an entrance. It is easy to imagine arriving in ancient times to siege the town and finding the entrances sealed shut with heavy wooden doors.

 We strolled the walkways of the town, a series of footpaths paved in the gray stone of the mountains. There wasn’t a flat one in the whole place. Some had gentle slopes, but others were very steep. None can truly be called ‘stairs’, but the steeper paths had a series of stones placed at regular intervals on which to place your foot so you don’t slip. Those ingenious Italians!

When we arrived at the high point of the town, we didn’t find the typical church tower or fortress. Instead, there was a lovely vineyard abutting a large house. And suddenly I realized why ‘Lucignana’ rang a bell. In July 2007, I visited this very house with a realtor. It was large enough for a B&B. But it was a multi-level structure, and I recall that each bedroom was on a different level. Yes, the vineyard almost made it worth the price, as it was one of the only open spaces inside the town walls. And on such a lovely day, with the sun shimmering on the grape leaves and revealing the hidden purple-black clusters of overripe grapes, I could easily have been convinced that this was the house for us.

Descending from the summit, we spotted the church below us. From our vantage point, we were level with the top of the bell tower and overlooking the expansive gardens. The sun had descended behind the mountains, so it seemed almost sad and lonely, the vast expanses of green completely devoid of any living creature. Meanwhile, on the paths around us, a group of children were in lively play, chasing a dog or running after a fast-rolling, downward-destined soccer ball.

 

Chapter Fifty-Two: Our Return

Originally written Oct 12

Rusty writes:

Pepper and I were traveling with Norma, a friend of ours from Little Rock. It was her first trip to Italy. It is always fascinating to travel with someone who hasn’t experienced Italy before. Each person reacts to new experiences in a different way, and Norma was no different. At times, she pulled in, rejecting an unusual piece of meat. At other times, she charged brightly forward, for example taking a train for the first time. It was a reminder to me that our guests will also be a diverse lot and each of them will have a unique response to our home. And I will have to remember that each one is valid, even if I don’t share his/her opinion.

As our plane approached the coast, we saw a thick layer of black clouds hanging over the entire coast. Within 2 hours of our arrival in Pisa, the heavens opened up. By then, we had found a nice sidewalk café situated within one of the main galleries leading from the train station. As we ate lunch, we watched the rain fall, first as a shower then as a torrent.

I always enjoy people-watching in Italy, but especially in a rainstorm. One lady refused to open her umbrella and strode defiantly through the rain. She entered the galleria with glistening curls and wet face, but neither increased her pace nor slowed down. A man walked within the gallery with his umbrella open, not noticing that he was protected by the arches above. Tourists in rain hoods ambled past, teenagers skidded by on the wet marble, and old Italians in tweeds and sensible shoes walked past us.

Even as I enjoyed the show, my mind was picturing the misery of a rainy visit in Italy. October is often a rainy month, so this deluge seemed to signal the weather for the coming days. How delightful then to see the rain cease and, almost magically, the clouds begin to scurry away. By the time we began our drive up the Serchio valley, the brilliant blue of the sky and the blazing Italian sun were with us.

As we approached Ghivizzano, I was both excited and anxious. We would be spending over 2 weeks in Italy. But 6 months had passed since our last visit. What would we find at Casa La Pace? As I put the key in the lock, I really felt the tension. Imagine my relief to see that the house was in better shape than when we left in March. Pino had conscientiously scrubbed the kitchen and living room and put away all of the linens. Walking through the house, I felt as though we’d been gone for a long weekend and were returning to our home.

 

Chapter Fifty-One: A Working Vacation

Originally written Oct 9.

The excitement is in the air. I can breathe it. I can feel it. Our trip to Italy is set and we are packing and getting ready to leave.

Of course, it is tainted with the fear of flying. But slowly I am loosing that fear. I like to think I am progressing positively in my self-diagnosis and therapy. On the last trip to Italy, I even got up and out of my plane seat. On this trip, I plan to do the same…..without the assistance of someone holding my hand, the tears, and the attendants asking me to stop talking so loudly.

Back to our trip plans:

We are going to Italy for about three weeks. This is going to be what Rusty refers to a ‘working’ trip; He refuses to call it a vacation. Yeah, right. As we all know, all working trips to Italy end up being more vacation than work.  It’s a working vacation until we find another village to explore, new sets of friends, and another bottle of wine. However, we do have a lot of work to do. Most importantly, we have to make choices. We are meeting with masons, electricians, plumbers, and other people who I am not sure what they do but they have an ‘official’ title. I just hope what they do is legal and it doesn’t cost much. 

It is easy to try to find laborers in Italy. I found it remarkable that if you go to the local bar and ask around, you can leave with the number to any laborer or professional you may need including the cook, baker, and candlestick maker. Who knew they actually lived in Italy? However, because this is going to be a bed and breakfast, we can’t just go with the third cousin of the bar owner’s twice-divorced daughter’s husband.

Our geometra is the connection to these laborers. He has made arrangements for us to meet with all the laborers and professionals we are going to need to choose from and contract for the renovations.

We also plan to visit us many home improvement stores as we can. We need to pick out floor tiles, light fixtures, toilets, kitchen sinks, colors, textures, etc.  If all goes well, we will have signed contracts with the laborers, picked the materials, and put together a renovation plan by the time we have to come back home.

We are not going alone. My very good friend, Norma, is going with us. She is someone special in my life and she wanted to share the excitement.  She has never been out of the US and so this trip is a grand trip full of new adventures. We want to show her the sites in our area, our village, Florence, Pisa, Lucca, have her taste new foods, drink Italian wines, and …..wait one minute…..she is also there on a ‘working’ vacation. Yeah, right!  We are also going to meet with some of Rusty’s family. A couple of his cousins and one of their husbands are coming to visit for a few days. Rusty made these plans after learning that they would be in Italy at the same time we would be. Rusty and his cousin Chris have stayed connected throughout the years. This is going to be a sweet, small family reunion for them. I can hardly wait to meet them.

Okay, now I back to being excited.

 

Chapter Fifty: Pino’s Last Adventure

I had one last, little adventure today. A bit unexpected, but incredibly enjoyable and amazing. It involves the Torrenta Turrita Cava, the small tributary to the Serchio River, to the west of Piano de Coreglia.

 As I was returning from Ponte al’Annia this afternoon, I saw across the river a small slit in the rock of the mountains, where a small tributary river comes into the Serchio. I had seen this on a detailed map of this area I bought. Although it was late afternoon, I had time to go over and investigate this little river and the road leading up to it. There was a sign for the Torrento Turrita Cava. I turned left and went about 100 meters, and then took a right turn on a small road, leading up a switchback road. Not too far, though, it rose a bit, and then flattened out, and turned inward to the mountain. This is a narrow gorge, with steep walls, and heavily wooded. In a short distance the road came to the small hydroelectric dam built on the river. Behind the dam is an amazingly beautiful blue/green lake, narrowly winding back between the lush sides of the little, steep canyon. The road continued along the left (south) side of the lake, and I could not help but follow it.  Winding, on and on, along this paradise of a place. You see, once you reach the dam, you have entered this entirely different world, and left behind the wide open space of the Serchio River valley. This place is lush, park like, undeveloped, and hidden from Ghivizzano or Piano de Coreglia. It is hard to see from the outside, but once you are in it, you see it is expansive, going back for many kilometers.

I biked on. Amazed at what I had found. And kicking myself that I only had found it now, the evening before I leave! If I had only known!!! This is a little slice of pristine forest/wilderness right on the doorstep of Ghivizzano..

My big regret for this little adventure is that I did not have my camera with me. And so for future Casa La Pace guests, please put this little excursion near the top of your list of things to do around Ghivizzano. It is such a remarkable, but seemingly hidden, treasure so near to the town. I fear my words did not do justice to the beauty of this lake, stream, and mountain gorge.  The high mountain walls were so beautiful along the way. There is a bald face mountain top that is visible from Casa La Pace. Going along this road takes you right beneath that bald face. Amazing. And when I was coming back, high up on the south side, on the edge of the mountain was a solitary castle or bell tower. It would be fun to discover where that is.

This was a wonderful last adventure for me in my time at Casa La Pace. It was a perfect way to wrap up my stay. I hope when you come to stay, you will have the pleasure of many amazing little adventures yet to be discovered here.

Again and again,  I want to thank the owners of Casa La Pace for their kindness, generosity, and opening their home to me. It was such a great adventure and stay that I hesitate about going back home. I came here to stay for a few days and extended my stay by weeks because it was just so wonderful. I hope to return someday soon.

Thank you Casa La Pace.

 

Chapter Forty-Nine: Pino Writes…

Aug 26

My journey today was set with a northerly pointing of the compass, up the Serchio river valley, and beyond, to Aulla. Fair weather prevailed (what else in Tuscany in the summer?), so I strolled on down to the Ghivizzano train station to hop aboard the Regional TRENO line.

The trains have been more or less on time throughout my travels here. Although aged,  the trains are pretty well cared for in this train line.

 I got on the train at 9:05 a.m, the appointed hour.  I sat down, and we chugged along; good-bye Ghivizzano, so-long Fornaci, passing Barga.. Once we reached Castelnuovo, I could tell the grade increased significantly; could the little engine? Yes, it could, and did. We made it up the long grade, past many stops.

Actually, the ride offered quite spectacular viewing, as we went beyond Barga and Castelnouvo di Garfagnana. That is, of course, when we were not in a tunnel, and there were plenty. At one point I thought we were going to exit the tunnel at Paris. But no, it was just Piazza al Serchio. I could not see much from the train station, but there were several people coming and going, and I think it would be a nice stopover to explore.

We continued, still climbing the grade, but I could tell we were in the higher altitudes now, and had a great view of the surrounding mountains. One last tunnel, and there we were at the Aulla train station. The station was very new and on the outskirts of town. So I had to determine in which direction to go (for unknown to me, the Aulla Centro was behind a hill, and unseen). They do offer bus service from the station to the town, but one nice woman kindly directed me to a walkway, which I took.

The town is quite like Fornaci, in size (maybe a bit larger), with an active commercial base, and a lot of traffic. However, as my earlier reading on the net indicated, the town has been largely (re)built since WWII. There is no quaint old town center. The only historic structure is the old fortress sitting on top of a hill, overlooking the town. The fort is nice, and worth looking at; there is also a very nice park and arboretum surrounding the fort, in which I spent a fair bit of time lunching and napping. The town is set in a very nice environmental terrain. It is an intermountain confluence of two rivers, which is why it was significant enough for a fort to be placed there (and subsequently bombed to oblivion in the war). Beautiful hills and scenery. And as I was standing up at the fort, overlooking the town, I enjoyed the wonderful steady breeze coming from the west, through the valley. Of course, that is the direction of La Spezia, and the ocean. Imagine the beauty of the setting with a steady ocean breeze. Nice.

My recommendation regarding Aulla: on a stop over, I would take the time to see the fort and park.

 

Intermission-over

After taking some time-off to ‘buy new ink’ (refresh), we continue with our Italian journey. Now…hmmm….where were we…

 

Chapter Forty-Eight: Pino Writes…

Aug 24

 

I slept well last night, for some reason. I guess I was worn out from all the excitement going to Lucca yesterday or maybe it was the beer.

 

But, onward to today. The weather turned cloudy this afternoon, the first time in six weeks. And it was pleasantly cool, or not hot, this afternoon. I took advantage of the break to jump on the bike and head up the road (and hill) toward Coreglia Anteminelli. I was not sure how far I would go, whether I would run out of energy or be rained out, along the way. I cruised along… until the hills overcame my cramping legs. I walked, around curves, up hills, by houses, around curves, etc. Quickly the view changed, and improved, as I began to rise above the Serchio River valley. The view was WONDERFUL. The light was soft, with the cloudiness, and a bit of haze in the air.

 

I felt good, so I continued onward. And onward. And after about 2+ hours I came to Coreglia Anteminelli. What a fun little town, nicely situated in an intermountain area, on a small ridge, with a view of the big mountain to the northeast. That, I assume, is where the big park reserve is, with all the good hiking trails and places to explore.

 

There is quite a tourist base in this town, from what I could tell. I saw many restaurants, cafe’s, bars, hotels, etc. As I got into the town I could see the old town was set a bit higher on a little hill beyond the main town. Up the remaining hill I chugged, hey, I had come this far so I might as well go to the top. And up the hill and around more curves.

 

These Italian drivers really like to cut it close when passing in their cars. Maybe they make a game of it, to see how close they can get with inflicting major bodily injury. But I made it to the alto without a scratch.  I found this beautiful old town, with a very active business section, with shops, cafes, restaurants and hotels all nestled in this little space. Nice little stone streets, and very well kept properties. And a spectacular view from the overlooks.

 

So now it was time for the fun part…. going back… all downhill. I sailed down through the town and stopped at a little park just on the edge of town. For water, from the old tap. It was a beautiful little roadside park, with huge old pine trees all covered with ivy. Cool, literally, and a nice place to be, sit, and dwell a while.

 

And I sailed on down the rest of the way to Piano de Coreglia. While it took almost three hours to go up the mountain, it took about 2 minutes to go down. But lots of fun anyway.

 

Below is my photo documentation of this trip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Seven: Pino Images…

Images from several Lucca Museums.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Six: Pino Writes…

Aug 23

 

I continue my trips throughout Italy.

 

I went back to Lucca yesterday. The big news is that I found the market!!! I bought one item for 2 euro. Wow. The market is on the northeast corner of the old town, at the Porte S. Jocopo, and spreading out the gate to the ring road, and inside all the way along the east side down to Porta S. Elisa. Hundreds of vendors, lots of clothing, some toy junk, a few food vendors, and some fresh fruit and vegetables too.

 

After stopping on the wall park to have a little snack that I packed, and to read my book, I headed to the the Museo Nazionale di Villa Guinigi. It is a nice, quiet museum. I especially liked the first three rooms with the ancient Etruscan artifacts, dating back to the 8th century BC.

 

I next stopped at the botanical garden, in the southeast corner of the old town. Apparently this was a scientific garden established many years ago by a benefactor of a local University, for the support of the study of botany. Now it is used as a collection point for rare and unique species. The garden is nice, but not as big as I thought it was. They do have a very good collection of tree and shrub species, as well as a good garden of culinary herbs. A real prize in the garden is the HUGE old Ginkgo Bilboa tree. Not sure how old it is, but it is massively huge. This is the male tree, while the female tree has been relegated to a spot just outside the Porte S. Elisa gate, because of its very smelly fruit.

 

 

I am planning to go to Aulla on Tuesday, and see what I can see.