Springtime in Italy

The windows are open to the day’s remaining warmth while trout and green beans grill and steam for dinner.

I had awakened this morning to bright sun direct into my bedroom, and the day held promise. After some tasks around the house and a light lunch, I went for a bike ride along the canal, past magnolias, cherry trees and forsythia, and then west into the farm land. I rode to the dairy and bought grana padano and fresh scamorza cheeses. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is fresh ricotta day. That’s worth riding back to the farm for! They will have just finished making it by afternoon and it’s so light and fresh it should be eaten by the spoonful out of its tub.

The rice paddies are green with the first new growth, and I dreamily followed the curled road back through them, returning to the canalside path. The temperature and sunny, blue sky were so delicious, and I felt warm and easy.

Heart of the Renaissance

Heart of the Renaissance

If you haven’t been to Firenze (Florence), put it on your “life list” of must-see places in the world. Really.

Two years ago I spent a couple of afternoons exploring Firenze, but I hadn’t been back since I returned to Italy last June. So I hopped on the train late last Friday morning, and less than two hours later, at 1:00, I arrived in Firenze and smiled. I walked from the train station to my hotel shooting photos along the way because I couldn’t wait until I put my bags down. I checked in, changed my clothes for the bit of humidity under the partly sunny skies, then left and took off walking for the next five hours.

If I were to move to Italy NOW, or want to relocate to another spot, I would pick Firenze.

Excerpts from my journal Friday night, 26 March 2010 , while resting my feet and having a delicious dinner:

“I love Firenze! At this point, with what I know and with my familiarity and my language, I’d move to Firenze. Milan was a great place to land and gave me anchors. I find much to interest me there. My camera is always at my side and I can stay as busy as I wish, but in just an afternoon, Firenze has thrilled me with its visuals, much the way that Venezia does.

“It’s very definitely a tourist town! I think that Spring/Easter vacations have begun because the clustering tour groups are everywhere and unavoidable. (I thought that, late March, I’d still be missing them all.)

“Firenze – Florence – is ‘tighter’. Narrower streets close into the center of town around the Duomo, and many ‘pedestrian-only’. the selection of little shops, restaurants and curious places gives much to explore without going far. The antiquity is a saturated wash over the town and gives it a texture that is lush across-the-board. Like Venezia, I could photograph here forever.

“I’m sitting at a table for two at Zá-Zá, a lovely, dar, funky, delicious trattoria just blocks from my Hotel Caravaggio. There’s been a table of four sitting near me having their meal, their drinks and their desserts. I smiled at them once… As they were leaving, the woman that had been nearest to me said goodbye – ‘Arrivederci‘. That tickles me.” (I highly recommend both the restaurant and the hotel.)

Excerpts from my journal Sunday afternoon, 28 March 2010 , on the train heading home to Milano:

“I had an incredible, full time in Firenze. So glad to have gone back, and with only an hour and 45-minute train ride, I could come for a day if I wanted to, or just an overnight.

“The city of Firenze, though packed with tourists, seems to have a quite comfortable parallel world of locals that go about their days and their work. With transportation and services so readily available, Firenze seems quite livable and pleasant.

“I very quickly got the-lay-of-the-land and covered much of the “Centro Storico” – the historic center of town – in my two days there, walking close to 20 hours overall.”

Yesterday evening, a friend asked by e-mail, “Should Florence be on my to-do list? What did you especially like about it?” I responded with an off-the-cuff, spontaneous list:

Everyone’s on foot or bike! The whole historic center, large radius, is almost all pedestrian-only with very few cars and some half-size, mini-buses. Walk everywhere. (I don’t think there IS a subway, but lots of public transportation.) Streets are narrow and closer in for easy strolling. NO traffic to even have to think about.

Absolutely fascinating art, history, culture, architecture at EVERY turn!

Historic sites. Historic art: Michelangelo’s David. Botticelli. Caravaggio. Dürer. Giotto. Leonardo. Lippi. Raphael. Rembrandt. Rubens. Titian. And so many more!

Visually lush. Vital, Small-city-energy.

VERY tourist-oriented (which I didn’t like having the vacation tours already swarming) but it felt like there was a parallel universe happening of people just going about their lives.

Florence doesn’t have the crazed-busy-frenzy of business-minded Milan.

Cool stuff for curious kids and adults alike. Sundials and crenulated towers.

Good gelato.

Neat bridges.

Street markets selling you-name-it.

Good cow-stomach sandwiches. (Lampredotto.)

The heartland of the Renaissance.

Oh. And they have curb-cuts designed for uninterrupted walking.

Winter Goes Grudgingly

Winter Goes Grudgingly

Winter has been long and gray and holding tight, unwilling to give way. But it’s late March now, and winter goes grudgingly, allowing spring to tip toe in.

It’s rained much of this last week, and I haven’t been out on two wheels for too long. So in spite of forecast rain and the questionable sky, I suited up and headed canalside.

It was a thrill to see signs of spring at last. Cherry blossoms. Forsythia. Wildflowers in the grass. I heard the birds singing in the trees and saw a highly-colored cock pheasant in the grass along the feeder creek. The willow catkins have burst and hang long. Trees and shrubs are leafing out. And I caught a whiff of something fragrant.

At long last. We have all certainly earned our springtime here.

!@*#!! It’s Snowing!

It’s March. It’s 3:00 in the afternoon and it’s snowing. Crap. I’m so ready for the Springtime that Seattle is having right now! Enough of this COLD!

My Seattle neighbors called the other day to tell me how much they’re enjoying looking out to the flowers blooming in my yard. Flowers? What flowers? It’s still winter here (except that the farmers and gardeners along the canal have been out preparing the soil for planting the last few, sunny days when I’ve been out for a ride.)

Basta!

I think I’ll got out for a walk…

Storm and a Blue Sky Day in Sanremo

Storm and a Blue Sky Day in Sanremo

Having swooned at the sunny, blue sky and t-shirt day along the seaside path in Sanremo three weeks ago, and having made new friends in town there, (and being up-to-my-ears in Winter in Milano), last weekend I went back to Sanremo for another dose of Springtime.

The train route goes up over mountains, and we rode through a landscape of fresh snow in Ronco.

Saturday gave us some early sunshine, followed quickly by an absolute drenching rainfall, requiring a quick, sopping-wet dash into the “bar” (as they call the coffee shops) for a caffé with the locals, also in out of the rain. There was a stormy sky out over the Ligurian Sea, some crashing waves and my favorite sound of stones tumbling in the surf.

After the coffee was down (3 sips if you stretch it out), and the rain had subsided, the stroll through town continued.

“Attenti al cane.” Beware of the dog.

I’ve seen these signs in other small towns at stores selling fresh meat (beef, sheep, goat, pork, poultry and rabbit, bagged and fresh), skimmed and partly-skimmed milk and seed oils. (I’d love to get my hands on a set of these signs to bring home with me. Better than a Prada handbag.)

This is a concrete, pre-fab, railway storage shed from the 1920s. It’s roughly 12′ x 9′. I hadn’t noticed them before, but after seeing this one, I later noticed a few of them along the train tracks heading back to Milano. Isn’t there something Japanese in style about it? I’d like one of these for my garden tools and supplies.

Saturday evening was spent laughing and eating with a group of seven.

Sunday morning dawned bright and brilliant blue, exactly what I had hoped for! The old train track route has been converted to a long, seaside, walking/bike path which links towns for many kilometers in the region of Liguria. On such an early-Spring Sunday, the path was filled with families, couples, old folks pushing other old folks in wheelchairs and cyclists in their decorated racing jerseys. Everyone was out moving under the sun and fresh, salty air.

There’s something psychologically uplifting about blue sky and palm trees…

The sky has been so GRAY in Milano for so long! It’s been a “heavy” winter and a blue sky like this is a balm for the soul!

I Met a Woman!

I Met a Woman!

Nicoletta rode over the overpass at the same time I did and then began to move ahead. I called out, “Excuse me. I have a question.” She slowed a bit, I pulled up alongside of her and we rode the rest of the way together, talking. “Why are there no other women cyclists?” I mentioned that I see only 1 woman per 200 or 300 cyclists.

(Just recently I wrote about this in the “Rolling Ciao” post.)

She said that they don’t like to get tired or sweaty, and that they don’t like to go out unless the weather is warmer.

It was such a surprise and a treat to see her, and we enjoyed the chat along the way. Nicoletta is also an independent consultant, and therefore, has a flexible time schedule. And she lives close by. I gave her my card and we may ride now and then in the afternoons together.

She just came back from a bike tour out of Rome in January and will forward the bike touring information to me. An Italian road tour is sounding very good to me these days.

It pleases me that I can just be riding along, and have such a wonderful encounter out-of-the-blue. Those moments are the real high points of my being here, and they’re the simplest.

Farm Fresh on a Sunny Day

Farm Fresh on a Sunny Day

Saturday. Clear blue skies. About 50 degrees. Yes!

I headed down the canal on my bike, but decided on a change of scenery and followed the path I learned about from Angelo, my surprise tour guide in mid-January. The one lane road wound though small towns and rice fields. I found my way back to the same old “cascina” (large, formerly-fortified farm) that Angelo had shown me. The farm store had been closed that time before, and though they were closed again, a young woman came out of the house and welcomed me into the shop.

“What do you recommend?”, I asked her. She pointed out all of their own farm-produced foods and I selected fresh ricotta, fresh mozzarella, brown rice and salami. What could be better?!

I found a way to secure the little bundle on my bike and continued my ride. There was a woman on a pink scooter. A lawn hosting 4 peacocks. An old tile roof warming 3 black cats. 1 Woman on a bike. Swelling buds on the trees. And a stop to say “hello” to Padre Pio at his shrine in Zibido San Giacomo. What a day!

Gauging the position of the sun and the remaining daylight and warmth, I went as far as Noviglio then turned around to head north back to home.

The very first thing upon coming in the door was to open the ricotta and mozzarella and have a taste. OH…MY! That fresh ricotta was better than most ice cream. I simply got myself a spoon and started eating it. Wow. Delicious. And the salami was good, too.

I’m really liking this. Go for a bike ride and, not far out of the city, pick up home grown rice and fresh ricotta cheese. (This is so unlike my previous life experience.)

A Cute, Little Italian

A Cute, Little Italian

Hmm. I might find me a cute, little Italian. All the right curves and straight lines. Just my size. Fits into tight places. Agile and responsive. Yah. Sounds good to me!

(I don’t know what YOU were thinking. I was talking about a CAR!)

Before I came here, I sold my Honda CR-V and figured I’d get something else when I returned. As I go around Milano, I look at all the cars and 98% of them have tiny, little footprints. Certainly better suited for the city than big SUVs and pickups.

So I think about “going small” (aren’t I already?) and getting one of the models I see here. For sentimental and purely irrational reasons, I keep thinking of getting a Fiat 500, or “Fiat Cinquecento” (ching-kway-chain-toe). It’s small. It’s Italian. And it would remind me of my time here. (Irrational rationale.)

It would also remind me of the day I went to the Triennale Design Museum and saw the wooden mold for the Fiat 600, (say-chain-toe), cousin to the Cinquecento, and then walked outside on that sunny day and saw a golden oldie original 500 parked out front. (Ahh, the things that sway decisions!)

Yes, there are Smart Cars; a chartreuse green one that parks in front of my apartment appeals to me because of it’s color. But the Smart Cars look like praying mantis heads. (Not necessarily a bad thing. I think of a former pet mantis named “Elvira”.) And there are a dozen other near-microscopic boxes-on-wheels to consider.

But what of road safety? When EVERYONE has a tiny car, such as here in Europe, that’s one thing. When most people have landboats, like in the U.S., a micro-vehicle wouldn’t stand a chance in a collision.

And what about repair and maintenance?

I don’t know. I have some time before I need to make a decision. A high-end bike may very well be my first vehicle purchase when I get back to Seattle, (whenever that will be).

Who out there knows about Fiats? Who knows what they cost? (I read online that they’ll be available in the U.S. in the late Fall.)

In the meantime, I’m just keeping my eye on these cute Italians and admiring what I see.

UPDATE: 13 Feb. 2010
I saw this little Fiat 500L along the street last night. It’s TINY! (Looks almost the same as the red one, above.)

Pinch Me

Pinch Me

There’s no way I could have CONCEIVED of this weekend! Talk about “living on a movie set!” It was all beyond real, not to be believed. Pinch me. Am I dreaming this stuff up?

Friday morning at 11:10 I hopped on the train heading to Sanremo on the Italian Riviera.

Just outside of Milan, a blizzard started.
(I later heard Milan had several inches of snow. I missed it again.)

I arrived in Sanremo in pouring rain and was welcomed by Sandra, my landlady, and her husband, Mauro, whom I had met once last Fall and had talked to for only an hour. They had invited me to stay at their house for 3 days.

We cleaned a big pile of mussels, clams and branzino (fish) to cook up for dinner.

Their good friend, Sandro, joined us for dinner and the four of us ate and talked all evening. Sandra, Sandro, Mauro and Maureen.

Saturday morning was sunny and blue-skied, and Sandra, Mauro and I wandered through the crowded street markets of Sanremo and strolled along the shoreline path.

At 2:00, after lunch, the 4 of us took off driving west along the Ligurian Sea/Riviera coast and about 15 miles down the road crossed over into France.

We stopped in Menton, France, wandered around town and I kept forgetting to change languages and say “Merci” instead of “Grazie”.

About 15 miles further, we crossed over into Monaco.

We walked around town, saw the outside of the Casino Monte Carlo and the route for the Grand Prix Monte Carlo.

We toured an amazing show of 300 photographs of women, photos c. 1900-2008, all from a private collection.

This morning was again sunny, blue-skied and in the 60s. The four of us went for a 14 mile bike ride to the town of Santo Stefano al Mare, along the paved bike path at the water’s edge on the Riviera.

We returned home to a meal of apperitivi and rabbit.

I had spent three days, with three people, speaking and listening to Italian the whole time. (I think I rounded a corner a month or so ago.)

When I left this afternoon, I felt as if I had spent the weekend with friends I’ve known for years.

I hopped on the train which left promptly at 3:15. The ride was under sunny skies until the town of Ronco, in the mountains halfway between the coast and Milan, where there was deep snow and whiteout conditions. I arrived home at 7:30 Sunday evening to “bare and wet”.

I had traveled from Spring back in time to Winter in a matter of just a few hours.

What’s next on the list?