An Art Course – Part 2

At work in "Lo Studio"

Day four, Thursday, was an intensive work day. We were meant to try and finish whatever we had started. I had finished one painting and was deeply into my second. On one level, I was happy with the progress I was making, but, at the same time, I was frustrated by my inability to get it just right. Every time I thought I had gotten something right, Julian would come along and compliment my work. Then he would say, “Now if you just . . .” or “I want you to step way back and look at what you’ve done . . .” He was always right, of course. Still, it wasn’t always easy to “accept direction”.  Mid-morning, Julian announced that he had to run into town to do some errands. This was the opportunity that I had been waiting for. I needed to return the Hobbit car, so I needed to get a ride back to Siliano Alto. Julian and I agreed on a time when he would meet me at the rental place and he left. I left a little later. I forgot that I had to fill the tank before returning the car. So, layer of dust and all, I started down the dirt road. Of course, I wasn’t 100% sure that I knew the way off the property, but I figured it out. The return went fine and soon Julian was pulling up and off we went. 

Aperitivo with the Maestro

After lunch, we worked until about five o’clock. We were heading into Citta’ della Pieve for an aperitivo and Julian wanted us to see the town in daylight. The days were getting noticeably shorter. I had just been to the town a few days earlier, so I knew what to expect. My “classmates” were clearly captivated by this charming little town. There was a considerable amount of photography going on. We sat outside at a bar on a little square. Julian explained the custom of the “aperitivo” and the basic principles. Soon we were all noshing away with drinks in hand. When Julian left to fetch the car, we had an opportunity to buy him a bottle of wine and a bottle of grappa as gifts. Fortunately, Lois had a big enough bag to hide the stash.

Our merry band

On Friday, our last full day, we worked in the studio until about 11:00. Today we were going on our last field trip to Castiglione del Lago. Jenna and Leo were joining us, since neither of them had been. Their time at Siliano Alto was also coming to an end. Again, if you have been reading this blog, you already know about the town. Our first stop was the lakefront. Again, Julian explained the lake and its importance to the region. We took our group photos at the lake before we headed up into the town itself. We did a brief tour of the town before going to the Cantina del Lago for lunch – the same place I had eaten with my family. Again, it was a beautiful day and the setting is magnificent (the food is also quite good). We had time for a leisurely stroll and a stop for gelato before getting back in the van. A few more hours of work followed in the studio, before our final dinner together.

Door to communal dining room

Dinners were always fun at this program. It was always just the students at first, but then Julian would join us for the second part of the meal. The conversation was wide-ranging, often starting out with art but gradually veering off in other directions. Tonight, Jenna and Leo would be joining us and we would all eat together. There was lots of good-natured joking and ribbing. Over the course of five days, we had gotten to know each other a little. Tonight we were going to have an opportunity to learn some more. We had agreed during our aperitivo the night before, that we would play this game where each person gets to say three things about himself/herself. Two of the things must be true; and, one must be false. The other participants try to guess which thing is false. Well, the wine was flowing freely at this point and turned into a roaring good time. Julian was the last to go and when he was done, we had occasion to thank him and present him with his gifts. He left, but the rest of us stayed and engaged in a very spirited discussion of the state of world politics.

Saturday was pack up and departure day. Julian helped us pack our work appropriately. In my case, it involved taking the canvases of their frames and rolling them up. As we were doing that, I had a great sense of satisfaction, not just because of the artwork, but because I really had gone out of my comfort zone to be with these people. There were hugs and goodbyes as the first run to the train station departed. I still had another hour with Verna and Karen. They were heading off to hike in the Lake District. I was heading to Chiusi for the night and then to Cetona on Sunday, meeting friends of Rosemary and Joe Cooley. In a little while, Julian was back and we loaded the van for its next trip. Leo and Jenna came out to say goodbye and there were more tears and hugs. All aboard, we rumbled down that dusty road one last time.

An art course – Part 1

While planning my sabbatical, I searched the internet to see what kind of painting classes might be available in Italy. Not surprisingly, there were many. Most however, were in the summer months. There were only a few options in September and October. The most attractive of these programs went under the title “Artist in Italy”. They were a series of one and two-week programs offered at one location on the border between Tuscany and Umbria, near the town of Chiusi. That certainly made it convenient to Antiche Pietre. They also offered a one-week class immediately following our time at the villa. So, I sent an e-mail inquiry. Yes, there were still spots, but no, all the single accommodations were already taken. Could I have a double for single use? Yes, but there was a ₤ 400 surcharge. That’s fine. So, I signed on. Back in February, this seemed a very long way off. Now, I was here.

Chiusi

The first two days were devoted to instruction. Day one, I particular focused on teaching us how to look at things by trying to draw them in pencil. It was a kind of crash-course in 2-point perspective. There were also some basic demonstrations of other media – watercolor, acrylics and oils. Everyone on the course had some experience in one or another of these. Only one woman was a true beginner. On day two, we had our first outing to the town of Chiusi, an ancient Etruscan settlement. Part of the field trip was an historical/cultural consideration of the development of the hill town in general, but Chiusi in particular. Then we moved into the cathedral square with the task of drawing something that we could see there. This exercise last about an hour. For our diligence, we were rewarded with a great pizza in one of the town’s eateries. Then we returned to “lo Studio”, where more  instruction ensued.  With our camera phones in hand, Julian sent us off to find something that we wanted to paint. Once done, we reassembled and each of us was asked to decide which medium we wanted to work in. I opted for acrylics, since that is what I had done many years ago. We each got set up with what was necessary and then we went to work.

The view from Arezzo

On day three, we had an extended day-trip to the Tuscan city of Arezzo. Our main purpose was to visit the Chapel of True Cross in the church of San Francesco to see the fresco cycle by Piero della Francesca. Before that though, we visited the church of San Domenico to see the Cimabue crucifix. We also visit the Duomo to see a fragment of another Piero fresco that would give us a clue to how he worked. We had about 45 minutes on our own and I took the opportunity to explore the park behind the Duomo. The view of the Tuscan countryside from there was incredible. I’m not sure how they manage to keep it so pristine. We reassembled for our tour of the chapel. Julian knows his art very well. His explanation of the fresco cycle was extremely thorough. His knowledge of Christianity, however, is a bit fuzzy at times. I resisted the temptation to correct him, though. Following the tour, we broke up for lunch. Julian and Erin went off with an American family that had joined us for the tour. The six artists in training went off on our own. After lunch, it was back in the van and back to the studio to work on our paintings until supper.

A Departure and an Arrival

Antiche Pietre

I woke up before the alarm even went off. It was another beautiful morning and the room, facing the lake, was beginning to fill with light. I got up and put on one last pot of coffee in the mercurial Moulinex. Since we had begun trimming the filters, the coffee maker was behaving more responsibly. I spooned in the last of the coffee and began the final cleaning. Adriano, the owner, was coming at 11:00, ostensibly to do the final inspection and collect the keys. I began putting pots and pans away, emptying the dishwasher, sweeping the floor and doing general cleaning. Although I knew my job would never satisfy the cleaning ladies or the owner’s wife, I had my family’s honor to maintain! I emptied the refrigerator of the last remaining items and cleaned the bins. When I had done all that needed to be done, I took a shower, packed up my toiletries, cleaned the bathroom and hauled my suitcase to the car. Last task was to walk the trash down to the dumpster. When that was done, I took some final pictures of the place as a record. Then I sat down in a chair on the veranda to reflect on the wonderful two weeks spent in this magical place.

Getting ready for pranzo

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly heard the sound of a car approaching. If you know Antiche Pietre, you know that you only hear a car when it’s coming to you. Assuming it was Adriano, I got up to greet him. When the car pulled in, I knew it was not Adriano. A young woman got out and waved. “Buon giorno” she greeted, “Buon giorno” I replied. As she got within earshot, she introduced herself as Adriano’s daughter. Once she got into the house and we shook hands, she informed me that her mother and father would be here shortly and that they were bringing lunch with them! Well, that was news. At any rate, we began preparing the veranda for lunch. Dishes, silverware, glasses and such were prepared, though even Maria Elena gave signs that all was up to the discretion of “mamma”. Soon another car arrived and it was Adriano and his wife. It was all hugs and kisses at first, but then it was down to serious business of getting lunch onto the table so I could get to Chiusi on time. Adriano and I quickly completed the business of turning the house back over. Meanwhile the women were busy getting things ready.

Then, before you knew it, we were sitting down at the table. Adriano at the head, of course, and I and the womenfolk in our proper places. The first course was pasta with ragu’, the way Maria Grazia’s mother had taught her to make it. Only lean cuts of meat were employed. “You won’t see that circle of fat the way you would in Bologna”, Maria Grazia assured me. With or without the fat, the sauce was delicious. I had to accept a second helping after I mentioned that there was no food being served at my next destination. You would have thought that I was being sent to cross the Sahara on an empty stomach. Anyway, that was followed by the tenderest veal scaloppini accompanied by grilled zucchini and the sweetest peas I have ever eaten. 

Leaving Antiche Pietre behind

The conversation was lively and, at some point, I started talking about my experiences living in Rome. Then I popped off a few phrases in Roman dialect that brought the table practically to tears of laughter. I guess the anomaly of an American speaking Roman dialect was just too much. The easy laughter was a wonderful reminder of why I love Italy so much. At this point Lorenzo arrived. I have to assume that he is Maria Elena’s beau, As he began to eat the rest of the family began repeating the conversation that had just taken place about me and the Roman dialect. More laughter followed.

 Now, our host pointed to his watch. I had to have some homemade limoncello plus the cookies I had brought them from Citta’ della Pieve (nice touch, on my part and very well received.) Now, however, the time had come. We all said our goodbyes. I was behind schedule. So I jumped into the Hobbit car, waved goodbye and drove away from Antiche Pietre for one last time.

Siliano Alto

I retraced my steps from yesterday on the way back to Chiusi. The plan was for me to meet the other participants and Julian at the station. Then I would follow them in the car. For some reason, they were very cryptic about the course’s actual location. We met, as planned and soon I was following the Mercedes 9-passenger van. We left the lower part of Chiusi and climbed into the old town. We skirted the center and took off down the road on the other side. After a few kilometers, the van turned onto an unpaved road, upon which we bounced along for another kilometer or two. I truly wondered where we were going. Then a few houses appeared; and, after another turn, we pulled into the drive to Siliano Alto, the house where the course was to be held. I met all the others and we were quickly shown to our rooms. It was now about 4:00 P.M. They asked us to reassemble at 6:30 for a general orientation to the house and the program. I, for one, was ready for a nap.

Around five, I took my laptop outside and connected to the WiFi. James, the other male participant was already diligently at work on a pastel sketch of the surroundings. It looked pretty good and I was already starting to feel anxious. We exchanged pleasantries and then he went back to his work and I to mine. After about 30 minutes he said, would you like some red wine if I were to get a bottle? So, I readily agreed. As we began to share the bottle, the three Aussie women arrived and more glasses were procured. We began getting to know each other. The group seemed congenial. Then it was time for our “house meeting”.  Our last participant, Lois, appeared from somewhere. Julian apprised us of the ins-and-outs of life in Siliano Alto. Most of it was straightforward. Then he outlined for us how the week would unfold and what we could expect. Again, the explanation was clear and straightforward. Now it was time for dinner, so we moved into the communal dining/living room for the first of Leo’s fabulous meals. Following dinner, we stayed and chatted over wine. Something that soon became a feature of life here. Then, it was time to get some sleep. One departure and one arrival behind me.

One more visit and final preparations

A rare sunrise shot

I was determined that the last day at the villa would not be a sad one. I had decided I would visit the town of Citta’ della Pieve, right on the border between Tuscany and Umbria. I had heard that it was lovely and I wanted to keep busy. The day did not get off to a great start, however. While I was eating my daily bowl of yogurt and granola, I suddenly felt something hard in my mouth. “Oh no”, I thought, “it has finally happened!” For the last month or so, a molar on my upper right side had been giving me problems. When I would bite down on something hard – like a nut or seed – I would feel a sharp twinge. I never had a toothache or felt discomfort except when chewing. I had almost called the dentist’s office the day before to schedule a checkup while at home. I cautiously moved my tongue up to the spot and, yup, there was a big hole where most of that tooth used to be. I fished around and found the piece. It was pretty big. Fortunately, I had no pain and the tooth did not seem particularly sensitive. Still, I knew I needed to have it looked at. The owner was a doctor, and I was certain that he could find me a dentist, so I wasn’t too worried. I also had occasion to email the woman who was coordinating travel arrangements for the art course I was going to. I just happened to ask whether Julian, the artist/teacher, new of a dentist in the area. Within an hour I had a response that yes, Julian did know of an English dentist in Castiglione! Within another two hours, I had an appointment for Tuesday. It was a great relief to have that behind me.

One of the "vicoli"

Citta’ della Pieve was about 30km away from Tuoro. On a Saturday morning, it was an easy drive. I missed the first turn-off and had to take the second, which involved a lot of hill-climbing and shifting from third to second gear. The local behind me did not seem terribly impressed by my shifting skills! I would gladly have let him pass, but the road was never wide enough. I arrived outside the city walls where there was ample public parking. That spared me having to navigate the warren of narrow one-way streets. I parked and walked into the town, found the nearest bar to have a cappuccino and use the bathroom. Though it was already 11:00a.m., the town seemed just to be waking up. The town is famous for its vicoli, or alleyways. It claims to have the narrowest street in Italy, the vicolo Bacciadonne, which is “Kiss the Woman” alley, so-called, because you could kiss a woman in the building across the way. You have to love Italy!

The view from the town

When I reached the town center, I was delighted to see that it was market day in Citta’ della Pieve. If you have been following this blog, you know that I have a thing about markets. What I love especially is the way it brings the locals out into the street to both shop and interact with each other. It’s as much fun to watch friends and neighbors greeting each other as it is watching people dicker about the prices. The vendors were all complaining that no one was buying anything. The clothing vendors in particular were hurting. They had clearly switched to their winter line when the weather turned cooler. Now that the temperatures had rebounded, people were thinking (and buying) less about the winter that was ahead. There was also an indoor food market with a few meat and vegetable stands. The first chestnuts and porcini mushrooms of the season were displayed front and center. This is one of the best reasons to visit Italy in October, you are still getting the tail end of the summer produce and the first arrivals of the fall. This makes for some great eating.

The park

I enjoyed visiting several of the town’s churches, especially the cathedral, which is dedicated to SS. Gervaise and Protase. Despite its unassuming exterior, the cathedral has some fine works of art. One painting is by the local boy, Perugino, who was born in Citta’ della Pieve. As a whole, the church has a rather harmonious feel, which is often lacking in churches that have been added on to over the centuries. Leaving the cathedral, I walked to the far end of the town where there is a beautiful view into the surrounding countryside. There is a long narrow park lined with plane trees that runs along the last outcropping. The autumn light shining through those yellowing leaves was quintessentially Italian. Now, though, it was time for lunch.

I decided to try a place that was on the way back to the car. It had good recs on TripAdvisor. As I got closer, one of the waiters was standing outside. I thought, “Well, they must not be too busy.” Nothing could have been farther from the truth. From street level, the place didn’t look like much, but when the waiter lead me upstairs, there were two more good sized rooms. Both rooms were about two-thirds full when I sat down. By the time I ordered, they were completely filled. I guess Saturday is a popular time to go out for lunch. The menu was fairly standard Umbrian fare. I ordered the pici all’aglione, the pasta that our in-house chef prepared for us on Monday. Then I ordered the stuffed rabbit with pancetta and some broccoli raab. All of it was delicious, and filling. I skipped dessert and just had some coffee. Now it was time to head home and finish packing.

When I pulled up to the house, I realized that I was no longer sad. The time here had been wonderful and I felt extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to stay in such a beautiful place and to share it with my family. It was, though, to move on to the next adventure. I finished packing my bag, leaving out just what I needed for tomorrow. I packed all the non-perishable food that I could bring to my next stop. I emptied the refrigerator of most of the perishable items that I knew I couldn’t finish before tomorrow morning. By now, it was time to head back down the hill for the 5:00 Saturday evening Mass.

One last sunset shot

After Mass, I came back to the house and did some more work on the blog. I also took some last sunset pictures from the veranda. I finished as much of the cheese and salami that was left and an apple for good measure. There was a special on about the Italian Jews of World War II. I only managed to see about an hour of it before I fell asleep. It was the last night at Antiche Pietre.

All the way to the top, this time . . .

At the ferry landing in Tuoro

When my family and I visited the Isola Maggiore on Monday, we didn’t climb all the way to the top, where the church of St. Michael and the former Franciscan monastery are located. We also only walked a small part of the trail that circles the island. I knew after we had been there that I wanted to return. Keeping an eye on the weather, Friday seemed like it would be a perfect day. A slight cool front had come through the night before and it was still rather windy in the morning, but nothing to be concerned about. I did my usual morning chores, put another load of laundry in and headed for the ferry. Perhaps because it was Friday, there were more people waiting to go across than there were on Monday. We boarded and, in ten minutes, we were tying up on the island.

The view from the top

I retraced our steps to the start of the ascent. Before I started up, though, I read about the castle that occupies one corner of the island and is up for sale . . . if I only had won that lottery! I started up vigorously but very quickly I became aware of my breath. I was really struggling. I didn’t think that I was that out of shape! I pushed on and eventually made it to the top. Thank God, there was a bench there. For the benefit of the other tourists, I pretended to be looking at the view, but I was really trying to catch my breath. The view itself was breathtaking, however.

The church of San Michele

The church is part of a small museum group on the island. There is a small admission fee. Inside it was quite something. Fortunately for me and the other two visitors, the woman taking the ticket money was also a docent and she gave an excellent tour of the church and its artwork. For a place that seems rather remote, this church had some significant artworks. Perhaps it is because St. Francis is reported to have spent an entire Lent on the island, which is dotted with various shrines to him. The church is now deconsecrated and no longer in use. The Franciscans left the island in the 1860’s.  The castle that I want to buy was originally part of the monastery. After consulting a map, I decided to take the trail that lead down to the lake on the opposite side of where the ferry comes in.

From the water's edge

Not surprisingly, the descent is quite steep. The trail winds its way down the hillside in a series of sharp S-curves. Other than the group of German tourists I passed at the top, I was totally alone on the trail. The hillsides are covered in thick vegetation. It is a very green place. Other than the wind rustling the leaves and the occasional bird, there was a profound quiet on the island. I think that is one of the characteristics that drew me back. I made it all the way down and stood near the water’s edge. Because of the wind, the water was lapping on the rocks that make up the shoreline. I could look across towards Passignano and the other island, the Isola Minore. It was spectacular. I followed the trail along the shore for at least a kilometer before reaching “civilization”. I was very happy that I had decided to return. I looked at the time. If I hurried, I might just make the next ferry. If not, I might have to have lunch on the island . . .

Gnocchetti with fish ragu

I did not make that ferry, so I had to choose one of the three restaurants on the island. None of them receive stellar reviews, though not terrible ones either. I decided on the one farthest from the ferry landing. It is called Ristorante L’Oso and it has lakefront seating. The wind had died down, so it was comfortable sitting outside, even in the shade. There were two menus “del giorno”, or of the day, in addition to the regular a la carte menu. There was one fish menu and one meat menu. It being Friday, I decided to go for the fish menu, even though I am not crazy about lake fish. I thought I should give it one more try. The first course were little gnocchi with a lake fish ragu and cherry tomatoes. I rather enjoyed it. The second was a grilled perch fillet that I had with a mixed salad. The fish was perfectly grilled and tasty. So I was quite satisfied with my meal. I had barely finished and paid, when I saw the ferry heading from the other shore.

Working on the blog

I got back to Antiche Pietre and began the dreaded task of packing after two weeks in one place. I hung the last pieces of wash out to dry and began organizing my suitcase. I didn’t want to have to do it all on Saturday. That would make my last day too sad. I got that done and sat down to continue working on my blog and cleaning out the refrigerator. There was a portion of the baked pasta to be dealt with, along with the remaining cheese and salami in the fridge. After two hours of writing, I started eating while working. But soon I called it quits and finished my supper in front of the TV.

A Lazy Day in Tuoro

When I woke up on Thursday morning, I just didn’t feel like doing anything. Nothing wrong with that, in and of itself. Still, I reminded myself that I was in Italy and I had a car at my disposal. I considered driving over to Cortona, but it just seemed like too much work. I compromised. I decided I would stay local and finally see what Tuoro had to offer, and, if possible, get a haircut. I ate breakfast and showered. I loaded the dishwasher and put clothes in the washing machine. I was ready to go. I got into the Hobbit car and headed into town. I decided, too, to investigate the other parking options in Tuoro. One of the lots was actually quite ample. I parked and started walking through the town. It was a normal workday and people were going about their everyday routines. I came across one haircutter and saw an older gentleman walk in, so I knew she must cut men’s hair. I stuck my head in and asked, but she was booked for the day, she said. As I walked a little further, I saw another place and figured I would try my luck. A young hip kid with a post in his nose was at the register. He said that they were busy this morning but I could come back in the afternoon. That suited me just fine. Appointment in hand, I celebrated with a cappuccino in a local bar.

In my travels, I noticed that there was an actual human being in the Tourist Office, so I thought I would go back and ask about the Trail of Hannibal. The woman in the office was both very knowledgeable and very helpful. She gave me a map and explained the various ways I could approach the percorso, as it is called in Italian. With that information, I set off. Once I got the hang of what the various stations on the trail might look like, it was very well done. Some of them were a little ways off the road and it took a little luck to find them, but, once I did, the historical markers were quite informative. The trail took me down some not so heavily traveled roads, but it turned out to be an enjoyable adventure. 

Osteria La Pergola

Since I was already off the main roads, I decided to take the back road to Borghetto, a little hamlet on the shore of the lake. The road was actually the same secondary road that would have taken me to Cortona, and I half-regretted not going. Borghetto was very sleepy and there was not much to see, though the parish church was quite old. There were also no lunch prospects, so I decided to go back to la Pergola in Tuoro, the scene of the infamous three-hour lunch!

Although it was already one o’clock, I was the first guest to appear. They hadn’t even finished setting the tables yet. The nice woman who had taken care of us on Saturday welcomed me back warmly. I explained to her that everyone else had gone home and that I was on my own. She made a big fuss over finding just the right place and got the table set quickly. We had a nice chat while she set the tables and I thought about the menu. 

Stringhiozzi all'arrabiata

The day’s pasta special interested me – pasta all’arrabbiata, which is pasta with a spicy tomato sauce. That was a somewhat daring in staid Umbria! There was also a chicken with lemon sauce that sounded light and refreshing. I ordered both specials. A few more guests had arrived. They all opted to sit inside. Maybe it was a little too cool by Italian standards, but it was fine for me. I was determined to make the most of this pleasant weather before heading back to New Jersey for winter.

The wine at lunchtime made me sleepy. So, once back at the house, I took a nice nap. I set the alarm though because I didn’t want to miss my appointment. I don’t know what it is, but getting my hair cut in a foreign country has always been an anxiety provoking moment.  At home, I don’t like changing barbers either. I like to go to someone who knows how to cut my hair without my having to explain how to do it. It had been five weeks since my last haircut in Dublin, so I needed to get it done and this was my best opportunity. I walked into the shop, greeted everybody and sat down. In a few minutes another barber appeared, 50ish with long salt and pepper hair. He sat me down in the chair and said, “You want this short, right?” “Not too short on top, I said” hesitantly. Then he went to work with the clippers. Long story short, (pun intended) he reduced the sides of my head to stubble. The top, while indeed short, was OK. Normally, I would have been more upset about this, but, I had actually considered getting a crew cut. I had talked to my regular barber about this and he thought I would look good in one. So, I went half way, I guess.

After the barber, I made a quick stop at Conad, our local grocery store. I needed beer and some kind of vegetable for dinner. I was in the process of trying to finish all the food that was left in the refrigerator. There was plenty of protein – meat, cheese and eggs, but not much else. I was thinking

Baked Cauliflower and Cheese

fennel, but when I got to the store, there was half a head of cauliflower ready to go, so I grabbed it. When I got back to the house, I began working on the blog again. Somewhere around 8:00, I decided I should eat. I put water on to boil, got the cauliflower cleaned up, and plopped it in. When it was almost cooked through, I drained it, broke it into pieces and put it into a buttered baking dish. I sprinkled some of the parmesan on it, along with all the gorgonzola that was left in the fridge. I put it in the oven to bake and went back to work. When I came to check on it, the smell was heavenly. It still needed a little more time, so I started cooking the two sausages that had been hiding. Together, that was a great meal! Satisfied that I had accomplished so much on a lazy day. I watched some TV before turning out the lights.

Return to Castiglione and Lunch with Mussolini

Street scene in Castiglione

Since Wednesday was market day in Castiglione del Lago, I decided to go back and spend more time. The weather had turned quite mild again and I had left all my warm weather clothing back in Ireland. I thought I might find a short-sleeved shirt or two without spending too much. I also hoped to get in a nice long walk along the lakefront. I parked below the town near the lake and walked up the hill. The market was in full swing. One of the first vendors I came to had a huge pile of men’s shirts for five euros each. I picked my way through the pile, but just didn’t find anything that I wanted to take home. I walked around the rest of the market – there were definitely some different vendors than the week before. I didn’t buy anything but walked on into the town and up the main street towards the castle.

Harvested olives

When I reached the castle, I followed a road on the lakeside where there was some parking. As I began following the path, I saw a man laying down tarps under the olive trees that were growing there. Clearly, they were going to begin harvesting the olives. There were some olive trees on one side of the road closer to the castle, but there were many more growing on the hillside leading down to the lake. As I walked farther, I could see other men who were using these battery powered implements that shook the trees and made the olives fall to the ground. Modern technology! As I walked a little further, I could see plastic crates filled with olives that had been collected. Clearly, the harvest was well underway.

Lake Trasimeno

At the end of the road there was a barrier and a sign showing a footpath that led down towards the lake. Feeling adventurous, I decided to follow. By now, it was noon and the sun was high. As I walked over the grass, an herbaceous scent rose all around me. I could almost smell the heat rising off the ground. The trail wound its way down. It was fairly steep at times. Soon, however, I was nearing the bottom and the shade. I could also see that I was close to where I had parked the car. The trail ended and I was not far from the lake. I walked along a paved road for a bit until I could see that I was at the dock where the ferry sails from. There was a bit of a beach and a pavilion with chairs and tables. The café was open, but there were almost no customers, save for two older men. I began walking along a paved walkway thinking it was the start of the lakefront promenade. Before too long, however, it came to an abrupt end at a pile of rocks. Hmmm. So much for my long walk. OK. Now I was hungry. It was time to decide about lunch. Time to consult the ever-trustworthy TripAdvisor app.

Since it was still relatively early, I thought about having lunch a little further afield than Castiglione. I got to the car and began searching. I began looking along the main road that lead south from Castiglione along the lake. Some place with outside seating would be nice. Eventually I came across a place that got great reviews for its “homestyle” cooking and a little off the beaten track. It sounded just like my kind of place. It was only about 12km away, so I headed off. It took me a little while to find the place, but I did. I parked the car a few blocks away and walked through this little hamlet to the restaurant. As I got closer, I could see that it was packed. It was one of those places where, when you walked in, everyone turned and looked at you. “A real locals’ joint” I thought. I wasn’t feeling particularly comfortable, but I went inside anyway and asked whether they could take one, the guy said “All the seats are reserved. You have to call ahead”.  “OK,” I said and was preparing to leave when the waitress came in. He told her to give me a seat. They could sort it out afterwards. “Nice”, I thought. The place was very basic. There were four choices for a primi and four for the secondo. You picked one of each. Sides were extra. The meal included water and a ¼ liter of wine or soda. One price: 10 Euros! That was insane.

Trattoria "Fratelli D'Italia"

The early shift was beginning to leave, but, as soon as the tables were empty, another shift would arrive. They were almost all men and all mostly laborers or workers of some sort. There was even a table of three men in hunting gear. It was also clear that most were regulars. I was beginning to see what was going on here. In some cases, it seemed as if guys had called ahead and placed their order, because the food came out that quickly. By the time the waitress came back to take my order, I had figured out how things worked. She seemed relieved when I rattled off my order: lasagna, grilled veal chop, mixed salad, red wine and sparkling water. Va bene, she said and went off. Wine, water and bread appeared quickly. Well, this was not going to be a three–hour lunch, I thought to myself.

As I waited for my food to arrive, I did hear some English being spoken. At one table, two men and a woman were discussing what I assumed was a home renovation project. One of the men spoke with a distinct Scottish accent and, at one point, became very agitated about something that his clients? had done. I lost interest, because my lasagna had arrived. It was nicely charred and redolent with meat sauce that had just enough tomato, but not too much. It was heavenly. The veal chop was thin and perfectly grilled, served with just a slice of lemon. Salad was fresh and abundant. As I ate, I was reminded of that fact that this was how most trattoria food was when I first arrived in Italy back in 1980. It was mostly very basic, simple and good food. I was feeling very nostalgic.

The waitress cleared my plates and asked if I wanted coffee. Yes, I did. A few minutes later the coffee appeared with a sugar packet on the side. I picked up the packet and was surprised to see the words, “Io sono fascita, e me ne frego.” Which means, “I am a fascist and I give a s..t.” I took me a while to figure out that this was not a joke. I thought to myself, “This is weird.” When I got up to pay, I saw a sign posted on the wall, which said “April 25^th is not MY day of liberation”. (April 25^th is the day that Italians mark as the end of the fascist regime). Then, as I went up to pay the bill, it struck me that the padrone, with his shaved head and tight black tee-shirt kind of resembled Mussolini. The clincher, though, was the receipt.  You can see for yourself!

I drove back to the villa in a very conflicted state. On the one hand, the food was very good and the price was ridiculous, but should I be glad that I was eating in a restaurant run by neo-Fascists? I was also puzzled by the fact that I got no hint of this from TripAdvisor. I decided to correct that when I got back to my computer.

Saying Goodbye

Packing the car

Tuesday dawned a gorgeous day, but even the bright sunshine was tinged with sadness. This was departure day. My family was leaving for Rome and their flights back to the US. Remarkably, everyone was up and about in plenty of time. We had one more battle with the coffee maker, ate breakfast and began packing the car. Mary was leaving in the afternoon, so the gang would drop her at the airport, return the car and head to their hotel, where they were spending the night. Now it was time to say goodbye. There were hugs and tears and then the black Ford rumbled down the road for one last time.

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Immediately, Antiche Pietre seemed terribly empty. I set about doing chores and moving myself from the downstairs to the room facing the lake. Despite keeping busy, I could not escape the sense of emptiness. Finally, I decided to go for a walk and clear my head. I walked to the top of the hill behind the house and there was just the most amazing view of the lake through an olive grove. Yes, this was a special place and the memories we created her would last us a lifetime.

A quick visit in Rome

When I got back to the house, the owner was there. He was sorry to have missed saying goodbye. He seemed very concerned that I would be in the house by myself. I assured him that I would be fine and that I was used to being alone. He did not seem convinced. At this point, he invited me to have lunch with him and his family before I left. That was certainly a nice gesture and made me feel pretty good. As the day went on, there were lots of Whatsapp messages going back and forth detailing who was doing what and where. Mary got off safely and the tourists went into Rome for a few hours. I don’t remember much about the rest of the day, though I do know that I began to catch up on my blog entries, much as I am doing right now.

Fond memories

A Day on the Lake

Selfie on the lake

Monday was our last full day together in Italy. The program was to sail from Tuoro to the Isola Maggiore, one of the three islands in Lake Trasimeno. There is not a whole lot to see, but it’s a lovely place to spend a few hours. As luck would have it, it was a gorgeous day, perfectly clear blue skies and bright sun. We headed down to the dock once we had finished breakfast and cleaned up. We had some time before the next ferry. After October 1, the ferry runs a more limited schedule. We enjoyed the lakeside and after about twenty minutes, we could see the ferry headed back our way. We boarded and took our seats on the open top deck. It’s a short ride to the island, only about ten minutes. Still, it was nice to be on the water. The perspective changes everything. Soon we were landing.

We disembarked and strolled into the little cluster of buildings that constitute the “town” on the island. There were, of course, the requisite number of tourist shops and stalls, but not too many. The town only has one street and there are just a few shops and restaurants. The most distinctive feature of the island is the quiet. There are no cars! 

The sense of tranquility is palpable. We wandered for a while back and forth, but unless one were willing to climb some very steep trails, there was not much else to do. We grabbed a table at a lakeside café and had some drinks and snacks while waiting for the ferry back. It was just so pleasant sitting outside in the warm autumn sun. Soon the ferry was on its way and we climbed aboard.

Since it was early, we decided to head back into Passignano where our time together had begun a week earlier. We had no real objective other than some possible souvenir shopping and maybe some gelato and a walk along the lake. If possible, the town seemed even quieter than the week before. It’s a summer resort and the season was long over, except for a few tourists like us. We didn’t spend a long time, but enjoyed the stop all the same. We needed to head home. Tonight we were having dinner prepared by an in-house chef and we needed to get ready. My sisters also wanted to start packing for their departure for Rome in the morning.

Passignano

Once back at Antiche Pietre, there was a noticeable sense of sadness that this vacation was coming to a close. We had planned for so long and the time seemed to go so fast. It had been such a wonderful time together in a magical place. Alessandro arrived around 5:30 and began preparing dinner. By 6:30, we were all on the veranda looking out at the view that had become such a familiar sight. Drinks in hand, we laughed and recalled some of the funny things that had happened. Then it was time to eat. I thanked everyone for joining me here in Italy, saying that they had made a dream come true. We also toasted Carol and Robert, who both turned sixty back in December. This dinner was really in their honor and it was for them. Needless to say, there were some tearful faces around the table, including yours truly.

Panna Cotta

Then dinner began. We had assorted crostini to start, pici al aglione, a local pasta with tomato and garlic sauce; veal filet with pancetta served with sautéed greens, and, to conclude, panna cotta with strawberry sauce. It was a lovely meal and before you knew it, Alessandro was packed up and on his way.

At least there was time for one more game of Uno!

Perugia and a stroll down memory lane

Unlike Saturday, Sunday dawned mostly clear. I was up early, so I went to Mass at the local parish church. By the time I got back to the house around 9:00 a.m., there was some movement. Today was our trip to Perugia, the provincial capital and the largest city in Umbria. I was very excited to be going there, because that’s where I lived and studied Italian some thirty-eight years ago. It is also one of Italy’s most beautiful cities. We finally hit the road around 11:00 a.m. It was only a twenty-five minute drive and was very easy. We parked the car on the outskirts and took the mini-Metró, a kind

of tram, up to the top of the city. Perugia sits on a block of stone high above a plain. Its elevation and views are two of the things that make it so beautiful. What also makes it so special, is the large number of well-preserved medieval structures that form the nucleus of the old town. We did not have a plan to visit anything and everything, rather just stroll through the city, take in some sights and maybe have some lunch – oh, and acquire anything chocolate.

Some clouds had rolled back in and there was a little bit of light rain as we began exploring Perugia. We started with the main square, the cathedral and the palazzo dei Priori. There were lots of people out and about and we joined them poking our heads in and out of different places. We strolled down the Corso Vanucci, the main street in the center, heading towards the Belvedere at the end. As we neared the end, you could see that there was some kind of market set up. We went over to investigate.

It was a small farmers’ market and there were vendors selling all kinds of different products. By this time, the sun had come out full force and we began peeling off layers in the bright fall sun. We strolled over to the belvedere and had a wonderful view of the city and surrounding countryside. Of course, this seemed like the perfect time for a selfie.

We walked back again towards the center, because I wanted to show my family where I had lived and studied. I had forgotten, however, how many steps there were down to the university. Carol and Robert were hardy enough to come the whole way. We stopped at the door, which lead up to the residence over the church where I had a room back in 1980. The church has since been closed; and Ibelieve the rooms are now part of a B & B. After that, we walked across the street to the main entrance to the Universita’ Italiana per Stranieri, the Italian University for Foreigners. This is where I received my formal start in the study of the Italian during a month-long course in September 1980. It seems so long ago now.

I am in Italy today, because back in 1979 I agreed to go to Rome to study at Sant’Anselmo. When I started studies in Rome, I had no idea that it would set me on a trajectory that would affect the rest of my life. As I write this, I am sitting outside as the sun begins to warm the Tuscan landscape that lies in front of me. Much of this I owe to Perugia, because it was there that I learned the rudiments of the Italian language and I learned to appreciate Italian culture. The month I spent in Perugia back then was a magical time in a magical place. Of course, with my limited experience of Italy, I had no idea that I was in one of the most refined and elegant cities in the country. What I did know was that I loved walking up and down the Corso watching the Italians as they lived out their daily lives in a way so different from mine. I now realize that I was very privileged indeed.

So, after my stroll down memory lane, we rejoined the rest of the family at an outdoor café on the main square. We all had a good laugh, when we looked up and saw a shop behind us called “Dempsey’s”. Of course, Theresa and Ray had to have a picture. We enjoyed some nice pizza and beverages while basking in the warm sun. A few more stops for chocolate and then we were on our way back “home”. We had some fun trying to locate a grocery store, which we ultimately did. We made our customary “quick stop” to pick up a few items. Then we headed home for a relaxing evening.

La Dolce Vita!

Attack of the Cleaning Ladies

I'm in another internet dead zone, so posting is difficult. We are in a real town today, so I am taking advantage of the WiFi.

While getting dinner on Friday evening, my phone started ringing. It was an Italian number, so I thought I should try to answer it. The connection was terrible though. I finally called the number back, and it was the representative from Emma Villas responsible for our house. She as calling to let me know that the cleaning crew would be coming tomorrow, Saturday morning, at 9:30. When I hung up and told my sisters, there was a collective groan. Everyone had been looking forward to a good lie in after out busy two days. I knew that this was part of the contract, but didn’t know whether we had any control over the time. At any rate, we just agreed to make the best of it. Of course my sisters felt the need to clean before the cleaning ladies came, so dinner was delayed a bit. We finally did sit down and enjoyed the food we had acquired in Florence.

When morning dawned, it was rainy and cool. It would have been a perfect morning to stay in bed. Being good troopers, though, everyone got up and got things organized. Our plan was to take refuge in the lower level of the house, since there was not much to do there except the bathroom that I was using. So, coffee and breakfast items made their way downstairs. The cleaning crew – 3 women – showed up in two cars at around 10:00 (we could have spent another half hour in bed!). I began to explain to them that with the exception of me, everyone else was leaving on Tuesday, so there was no need to change the sheets. The woman just looked at me sheepishly and said, “But, we have our orders. And the owner’s wife is coming in a little while.” “Oh, oh”, I thought. This is getting serious. Still, I thought, with three people they will be in and out of here in an hour. At least that’s what would have happened in the US.  Anyway, two and a half hours later, they finally left. At this point, there was only one way to deal with our frustration. Eat.

The antipasto

On the advice of the owner’s wife, we headed into our little town of Tuoro for lunch. We parked the car and eventually found our destination – Osteria La Pergola. Since it was a rainy day, or at least overcast, they were not using their outside seating. Inside only had about twenty seats, eight of which were already occupied. When the six of us showed up, there was a little bit of a scramble to find room for us. The woman, who was clearly in charge, readied a table for us and soon we were seated. The menu was not large and was pretty much your standard Umbrian fare, except for the appetizers which had quite a few featuring fish from Lake Trasimeno. We opted instead for the landlubber’s platter of meats and cheese. Since there were six of us, we ordered two.  When they came out, we were amazed at the size! They were billed as “for two”, but one would have easily been enough for the six of us. But, since we were all hungry, we tucked in and did a good job of finishing them.

   

                                                                                                                                                                                        

Another 3-hour lunch

Of course, we still had pasta and a main course coming. Needless to say, by the end of the end of the meal, we were ready to explode. The nice woman who was running the place, who - by the way- had to call in another waitress, since the restaurant had filled up completely, could not understand why we didn’t want dessert. There was just no way. It was now after 3:00 pm as we waddled back to the car and back up the hill to the villa. That meal became the gold-standard for a “three hour lunch.”

We had self-imposed quiet time until 6:30. Since no one was interested in eating again, our nightly UNO competition got started earlier than usual. As always, it was a spirited evening. By 9:00, the crackers appeared on the table and it’s possible that someone went to the freezer for gelato. That Saturday evening was the one, and only time, that we had no supper at our villa.