Under the Florence Sun Going to Tuscany

Today we are starting the family hook-ups in preparation for the Tuscan wedding that is to follow this weekend. Ron’s grand-niece Elise and her boyfriend John arrived this morning after spending a couple of nights in Venice. Ron’s plan was to do some touring around seeing sights from the outside and the free ones from the inside. There isn’t much free here. Even some of the popular churches charge admission.

We took them to the Duomo, but Elise was refused admittance. She was wearing shorts and a sleeveless top. I could not believe the hypocrisy and sexism in this as men who were dressed in the same manner were allowed entry. Regardless, I waited with her on the steps in the shade. Elise is truly extroverted making her an enjoyable companion even if she was barred from the church.

Conversely, we did get into Basilica de Santo Spirito for free, where there is a wooden crucifix carved by Michaelangelo. Somehow, we did not see any guards collecting a fee nor did we notice any signs. It was not until later that we realized there was a fee for admittance to his specific chapel within the church.

For lunch, we returned to the same piazza where we had dinner Thursday night, but a different choice in restaurants. This one Osteria del Santo Spirito, was a much better choice, even if it sounds like they only serve first holy communion. Italian restaurants can be extremely confusing with their portion control. Menus offer primo and secundo choices, where the primo is generally either a pasta or risotto dish. Often times, having ordered this as my single entrée, it had turned out that the portion couldn’t fill a demitasse cup. Yet, the price could fill my piggy bank. A cost of 8-15 Euros should provide something more than a tablespoonful of food. With this in mind, the three men ordered the full portions, as opposed to the half portions.

Ron had gnocchi swimming in cheese sauce; my rigatoni macaroni were covered with a tomato sauce sprinkled with dry Ricotta cheese. John dared to try a pasta dish that is served with gelled fish row. As the hot pasta melts the row, it provides a fishy sauce. Elise was the smart one with some forethought ordering a small portion of the same rigatoni I had. John’s dish was too adventurous for my taste and honestly, I don’t think he was overwhelmed with joy at his choice either. He mentioned more than once that it was an ‘acquired taste’. He seemed to be waiting for his taste buds to start acquiring a flavor appreciation, but he took a considerable sized portion as a to-go package. I doubt it ever ventured further than the refrigerator to the trash once we were at the villa.

We still had time to kill before the prearranged taxi drove us to the villa in Tuscany where we would settle for two nights. Trying to walk off our dinner, fatigue took over with the younger ones long before it did their elders. A coffee stop was in order to while away the remaining hour or so.

At promptly 5pm as scheduled the taxi/van was there to transport us. The ride was a paltry 30 minutes, but the cost was a significant 70 Euros, which we shared with Elise and John. No wonder the Italian economy is in shambles.

Without any real expectations of what a Tuscan villa would be like outside of vivid imaginations, we were pleasantly surprised. The hills in the distance and the fields surrounding the villa itself are covered with olive trees and grape vineyards. It was as delicious as any imagination could perceive it to be.
We were greeted by the bride, Andrea. She is the older sister to Elise and another of Ron’s grand-nieces. He being one of 7 children, there are lots more grand-nieces and grand-nephews running around. Andrea and Mark had a quick civil wedding back in Colorado for the grandmothers on both sides of the family who could not get to Italy. We were shown to our room which was one bedroom of a two bedroom apartment, which included two full bathrooms, a living room, a dining room that could seat 20 and a full sized eat in kitchen. Andrea’s parents were given the second bedroom. The second floor included additional apartments where she placed fellow workers who came for the celebration. Just 30 steps out the back door were one of the swimming pools.

Down a trail weaving through olive trees were two more buildings, each with full apartments and a humungous shared kitchen. This is where all of their friends were staying. All totaled there were 37 people who arrived for this wedding. The actual ceremony is scheduled for tomorrow, but the festivities continue. Andrea and Mark booked and paid for the entire stay at the villa and for those who chose, it was available through Tuesday. On Tuesday, there was a wine tour scheduled for anyone who cared to stay and imbibe.

Tonight, however, was the night to party. Female friends had arranged a hen party for Andrea while Mark’s buddies planned a stag party. A whole lot single person celebrations were planned a little too after the fact, but a bus came to pick them up at 6pm. Off they went back to Florence to kick up their heels. Ron and I had stayed behind and wandered the surrounding land. We were not quite certain if we would eat dinner or not since we had no idea what the plan was and had not done any shopping.

As we walked back to our assigned building, a crew from Andrea’s workplace was busy cooking up a dinner. As soon as they spotted us, they invited us to share with them. Seven of us had a communal meal of spaghetti and steak. The food was tasty, but the companionship was spectacular. I had not laughed so hard in years. They are not only a fabulous group of medical professional people, but they are dynamic human beings. We stayed up until close to midnight having a grand time.

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Giving the Finger

I have been lagging behind in writing. Some brilliant ideas come with consequences. When we travel, I always have a battery recharger with me for my camera batteries. My particular camera requires rather particular batteries, which are not only hefty in weight, but in cost as well. The charger for them is duly expensive. After years of traveling, the charger had gotten knocked around my suitcase causing the protruding electric prongs to become wobbly and finally ineffective. Rather than be inserted into an outlet, they would rather retreat like man parts when entering freezing water.

Brainstorming, I thought it would be prudent to get some Styrofoam to cover the prongs, hence making them stable in the suitcase. After hunting down people who knew what Styrofoam was, I finally found some. When testing it out, it became apparent that little bits of white chemical balls were going to start sloughing off decorating everything else in the luggage. The next option was to try foam rubber. Finding a place that sold this was more of a challenge. I had suggestions, but before I could set out, someone mentioned a sponge. Eureka! This was the solution. Off I went to buy a sponge. Then to hold it on and in place, I bought 2 hair scrunchies. This keeps the prongs safe and the batteries in place while inside the suitcase. Perfect!

Well all reasonable creations come a little blood, sweat, and tears. The sweat was hunting down the potential supplies from store to store in high heat. The blood and tears came later. While trying to cut into the cellulose sponge, the screwdriver that I thought would be sufficient was not. The next item was a knife. It slashed through the sponge quickly and easily, but unfortunately, my finger was in the way. It was a deep wound, bringing on the blood and tears. It actually bled for over 3 hours if I did not keep pressure on it. There was no way we could get a bandage tight enough to stop the bleeding, so it needed hand holding. For once, one hand knew what the other hand was doing.

Need I say how difficult it is to type with a left forefinger that looks like the end of a baton? The f-g-r-t-v and 5 keys were now vacationing due to my lack of dexterity. Adding to this is the knowledge that the negative Internet connection was not going to improve my cyber communication skills in any way. Strangely, I could surf the Internet, albeit at a snail’s pace, but I could not access our own website www.budabab.com nor could I send e-mail from our own account info@budabab.com. So particularly strange.

In order to divert my attention away from my Internet issues, I had to content myself with our first afternoon into the evening walk in Florence. Poor me! We spent it wandering aimlessly as we looked at some of the ancient historic sites. This was my fourth time here and my second time with Ron. Our last visit was in 1993, so it was undeniably exciting to have a reason to return. Only two nights were allotted for this portion of the trip, and then we venture off to Tuscany for two nights, and then return here for three more nights.
We ventured to the Pitti Palace, the Duomo, Ponte Vecchio, the outdoor museum of statues by the old city hall, and various churches that were open. This is undeniably a city where nightlife rules; throngs of people are milling around the piazzas and walking the narrow streets. Most streets are so slight in width that the sidewalk on each side of the centered one car lane only allows for single-file walking. There is no shortage of people in the plazas where restaurants circle the perimeter, generally a church sits on one side corner like a matriarch overseeing her clan, and a fountain adorns the center of the square complementing the scene as viewed in foreign movies.

People are eating late into the night. At 11pm, patrons are still arriving, looking for menus, and tipping back drinks. The restaurants are full of reserved tables still, at this late hour. Regardless of the mobs of people busily involved in social activity, the sound level was moderately static allowing residents in the apartments above to enjoy their television without having to blast the volume. There was a steady buzz so unlike the voluminous raucous sounds bringing to mind hooligans at a football match, which is what we hear outside our own windows.

Sticker shock hit us like a professional baseball pitcher’s fastball. Regardless of our diligence in hunting high and low, we could not find a budget eatery. We finally settled for a place in the piazza where we had been twice. It was only by sheer fortune that we were able to get a table, it was that busy and we had been refused by another restaurant that could not accommodate us. We chose Ricchi Pizzeria, where I had a pizza, Ron had risotto and each of us had a beer. The bill came to €54, which certainly churned my stomach more so than the pizza did.  If my pizza were delectable, I would not have been so upset, but it was essentially tasteless. I could have done better with cardboard, tomato juice, and skim milk cheese.

By 11:30, we finally wandered back to our B and B Casa di Annusca at Via dei Serragli 126- (+39-338-314-1076  fbaudone@me.com). This is a fabulously rich accommodation with artwork in every nook and granny. Even the interior doors are graced with murals.

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Wizzing Off to Milan

The last time we were in Milan was 2004, so we were overdue to return. Having booked the shuttle online yesterday, all we needed to do was pack. There is little of that too these days, with carry-on limited to 10 kg (22 lbs) and dimensions that would keep a small dog carrier off of the flight. The alternative being paying a hearty sum for checking a suitcase, not to mention the humiliation of being the only one who is standing at the destination watching the conveyor belt go-around and around.

Once in Milan, we had previously booked the Wizzair shuttle to take us to the central station. There are a half a dozen options once you arrive, and they are all about the same price. Though it didn't save us anything financially, it did provide the convenience of having it paid for our airport round-trip. Our hotel was Hotel Stazione, almost directly across the street from the massive and exquisite main station.

This turned out to be an excellent choice. Not only was it convenient, but the staff members were exceptionally friendly. Each time we walked in, we felt like we were returning to old friends. The room was expansive with a double and single bed. The bathroom would have been more than adequate had there been three of us.

Bags dumped, we were ready to explore. The first place on the list was to revisit the Duomo, the largest Gothic cathedral and the second largest Catholic cathedral in the world. The first building were erected by St. Ambrose in the 5th century. We chose not to spend our time going in since we have been here before. We were in search of something new, but to find it you have to gasp at all that is old, but so fabulous you cannot resist gawking each time you see it.

We found this church that was supposed to have incredible art work. For someone who is a non-believer, I find myself in places of worship so often. It makes sense really, since the early church and those with wealth sponsored religious art. If you want to see outstanding craftsmanship, head to a old church. 

Ron had found a 'budget' restaurant that he wanted to test called Antica Hostaria della Lanterna. When we found it, they were closed. It seems to be the custom for restaurants to close around 2:30 pm and then reopen around 6:30 or later. This one was not going to reopen until 8:15 pm, a rather odd time. The hook in the review was that a little old lady ran the place doing the cooking. It was a fixed menu, so menus to choose items off. She presented her list of the day's specials. She did let us in long enough to reserve a table for 8:15. 

We had plenty of time to walk around, going to parks and spending time in other churches. Food was the number one thing on my mind. I wanted to chow down on good Italian treats. In the meantime, we found a friendly pub with outdoor seating. Along with our beer, we received a large platter of 'nibbles' consisting of what would be a cross between calzone and pizza. Delicious pieces of pizza dough had chunks of zucchini with tomato sauce, pepperoni and cheese, or prosciutto with cheese. As we filled our faces, we kept saying "We are not going to be hungry for dinner."

One church, Chiesa di San Maurizio al Monastero Maggiore (try saying that 3 times fast) had portraits comparable with some of the great masters, so we went there. The best art was tucked into a separate area behind the main area of worship. To see all of the photos from this day, go to my photo blog here and look for May 3rd.

After walking and standing for hours of viewing, we found a little park where one section was designated for dogs. They seemed to have taken over; there were dogs and their human pets roaming two-thirds of the entire area. Watching small and large breeds interacting, playing peacefully was entertaining.

We made it back to the restaurant at exactly 8:15 pm, the second couple to arrive. The grandma-like lady offered wine. We ordered a 1/2 liter. It was Chianti, nothing special, but a throwback to my childhood. Offerings for the first platter were different types of pasta. We both chose gnocchi. Choices then were for what sauce we wanted. We both jumped on the Gorgonzola option. The gnocchi was startlingly fresh. You could still hear the potatoes screaming for mercy, but they were strangely cubed. Neither the pasta nor the sauce was too flavorful regardless of our attempts to be people pleasing to this nice old lady.

Second dishes were meat courses. I had the beef 'stew' and Ron had veal. My beef was sliced beef roast, while Ron's were cutlets. Each was served with cubed potatoes. The entrees were flavorful, but the reappearance of a potato  in a different guise was disappointing. By passing the third course, which would have been the salad, we rolled out of there 55 Euros lighter. So much for budget restaurants. Surprisingly, the place was filled with large groups of Italians, which makes sense. There is no English spoken there. The couple who arrived minutes before we did were French; they asked us for assistance with menu items. How pathetic is that?

Tomorrow is Brescia.

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