Month: August 2017

That 3-hour power hour of sleep the night before turned into about 1-hour as we both were probably subconsciously worried about over-sleeping. Also, I kept itching my legs all night and thinking I HOPE I didn’t get new mosquito bites last night…I hope.

We were out of the door and on the street by 4:20am. It was dark and no one else was around and you just hoped the people that were supposed to call for the taxi actually called and someone would be showing up soon. Just when I started thinking maybe we should go inside with all of these bags while one of us stays out here as a look-out…our driver pulled up.

The driver was in a class all by himself. He sped down the empty streets while texting throughout the 15-minute drive to the airport. Every time I thought I was going to speak up and say something, he would stop texting. Dana kept clutching my leg as if to say…he is driving too fast, and I was in agreement but also could see we were close to the airport and didn’t want to rock the boat. I Just wanted out of the taxi.

We made it safely and began the process to get our luggage checked. The weighing of the luggage made you cringe much like I assumed the weighing of my person would once I got home. They weighed Dana’s checked bag first and it was just at the limit, regardless they slapped the embarrassing ‘back breaking’ heavy tag on hers. Although my checked bag was within the limit, my carry-on was over weight.  So it was a mad scramble to get things distributed between us so that we could board with the carry-on articles we planning on bringing with us.

After we checked in, we had a good cushion of time so enjoyed a few cappuccinos and a pain au chocolate in their airport café. It was one of the nicer airport cafe’s I can remember. It was so good, in fact, we went for two rounds of the cappuccino.

Our connecting flight was going to be leaving on time. It was an inter-Europe flight from Florence to Paris on a 737. We had to ride one of those tarmac buses to the actual plane and it seemed like EVERYONE around us with coughing with the plague. It’s one of those moments where you think – there is nothing I can do – I’m getting slimed right and left in this enclosed environment and I haven’t slept all night – Lord, protect me! It’s one of those times where you just close your eyes until it’s over telling yourself – this is not happening.

After we boarded the plane and took off on the 1.5 hour flight to Paris, here comes the flight attendant down the aisle, with not peanuts, but a whole cart full of piping hot pain au chocolates? Like what? Is this a flight in heaven or what? Sadly, I had already had my fill at the airport café and so I passed on these. Still, I think about that even now and wonder how we can get that option going back home one of these days? Oh how my Monday morning business flights would be so much more exciting to look forward to at the thought of a little pain au chocolate to greet me.

When we arrived in Paris, we had to go through the customs check-point again. Fortunately we had enough time, so it wasn’t as stressful as it was coming through here the last time on our inbound flight when our connection was much tighter. Still, it was hot and the lines were long. But they seemed a lot more efficient in working us through. At the same time, I see more room for efficiency. Once I got up there, the customs agent was completely intrigued by my FitBit, asking me all kinds of questions. ‘How do I like it, how many steps have I had today, how much did I pay, is it helping me with fitness?’ It was so odd. I was so happy to be done with the FitBit conversation when he finally stamped my passport.

Our flight out of Paris was about an hour delayed. It gave us time to go to the Paris Starbucks and pick up a few things. That line was excruciating slow and used up our 1-hour layover cushion. It was a combo of slow workers and customers that didn’t know what they wanted and were ordering for people present and not present in line. With one lady behind the counter and one barista, it was too much. We were thrilled to finally get through that line in be back in the waiting area for our plane. Once they called us for boarding, Dana was randomly selected for extra screening before we boarded- shoes off, pat down, bags searched – heightened security precautions in full force.

We boarded the plane and got settled into our ‘Extra Comfort’ seats on the top deck. While we were waiting to take off, the flight attendants were all in a tizzy trying to get a family accommodated and kept accusing of us being in the wrong seats. We had to show our tickets no less than three times. They would be so sure that we were in the wrong seats when they came up to us and then be baffled each time they saw our tickets. By the time the third one came around I feel like everyone around us wanted to chime in, ‘Hey, they are in the right seats, leave them alone!’

We finally took off and were on our way home on the 13-hour flight. The neck pillows we had so gleefully left home when we found out we were upgraded to business class on the way to Italy, were at the top of mind as we couldn’t get comfortable. Even with the ‘extra comfort’ we felt restless. The perks of the seats were a little more space between each row, the ability to stretch out our legs a little, and not have anyone lean back into your seat. The seats were designed like little buckets that rotated when you wanted to recline.

The movie selection wasn’t great, so I went back to my old favorite Beauty and the Beast (am I a kid or what?) and started to watch that again. I had lived it! Now, I wanted to see how it felt to watch it afresh. In all honestly, when that dining room scene came on, tears fell down my cheeks to understand again that I had been outrageously blessed with that evening at the Four Seasons in Florence. The tears I held back on that night finally found their exit on the plane.

A few meal rounds later and after uncomfortable shifting every which way in our seats trying to sleep and get comfortable, we were finally home. There is nothing like the feeling of hearing from the pilot that you are on the final approach and then finally landing. And my legs were still itching. I was so ready for another shower and my bed. Oh how I’d missed my bed!

Dana and I had both signed up for the Global Entry Pass prior to leaving so we breezed through customs. The longest wait we had was for our luggage. We stood there for a good 20-30 minutes and watched what felt like over 500 pieces of luggage come around in hopes of being reunited with those bags we last saw in Florence. And just when you are wondering if you bags made it, they peak out around the corner and you are all smiles as you are now free to exit the airport and head home.

Dana was taking the Fly-Away to the valley where her son was going to pick her up and I had an angel of a friend picking me up at the airport and taking me home. (Anyone who agrees to pick you up at LAX has immediate angel status as the traffic headed into, out of, and inside the airport is always a hot mess). Dana and I said our goodbyes right outside of the international terminal, looking at each other, smiling and saying, ‘Wow, it’s over. It’s really over.’

Just like that, the dream of our 50th birthday celebration in Italy was now a memory. I was confident that our renewed bonds would continue as we held onto threads of our trip by finding ways to bring the Italian lifestyle home and into our everyday lives. We had already been texting regularly with the honeymoon couple we met at the farm, Tony and Maddie, and they had named our text thread #teampsycho. It was obvious that all of us had walked away from the trip equally enthralled, obsessed, and spellbound by Italy and our experiences on the farm with Isabella, Carlo, and the rest of the family.

So now, the only question left is….how soon can we go back?

I am here to say that the morning after the meal of your lifetime is a slow one. If this were a weekend day back home, it would be the kind of day that you stay home and just chill out in your PJs all day and continue to let your food digest. However, we were staring down the barrel of our last day of vacation, which was sobering and a relief at the same time as you are starting to wonder ‘Um, how much weight have I really gained?’ However, you just don’t want to spend your last day of vacation floating around your apartment in Florence in your PJs. Actually, you kind of do – so a good compromise is to make an easy day. On the agenda for the day was just a little shopping for leather goods, packing, and then a dinner at Trattoria 13 Gobbi, one of our favorite restaurants in Florence.

But first coffee! We headed back down the corner Gelato place to try their coffee and pastries. This place had seating right in the shadow of the Duomo – with prices to match. We paid about 2x – 3x the amount for one cappuccino that we paid at any other place on our trip. Which, sadly, is the same amount we pay back home at any Starbuck’s type of coffee place. But here, it is shocking as you are used to being able to put down your 2 Euro coin and have that be more than enough for a most excellent cappuccino.

So after waiting a long time at a non-busy counter while the Barista slowly worked through the other person’s order, we were finally helped. We purchased 2 cappuccinos and 2 pastries and it was something outrageous like 25 Euro. When we sat down with it at our little outdoor table and looked at the bill, we could see they had overcharged us and we also paid for another woman’s order. We flagged someone over to explain this was a problem and he said, ‘Oh, can we offer you a couple of Tiramisu?’ Me in my head: ‘Sure, I was just thinking that I was craving a Tiramisu to go with my morning coffee and pastry. Not.’ Me verbally: ‘Um, no, we just want our money back, thanks.’ So, as we sat there sipping our weak cappuccinos, he went back and brought us refund for the overcharging and a little extra. Because the coffees tasted so weak, we decided to take that money and invest it back in the other coffee shop we had liked from the day before.

We headed in the direction of that coffee shop and it again was feeling muggy, the sky was overcast. It was a fitting end to the trip – just sort of a cloudy, gloomy day that looked like it would finally bring rain to the drought they were having and also relieve some of the humidity in the air.

I was on a mission for leather, so after our second cappuccino at the other coffee shop we headed in the direction of the shop I had been eyeing while we were in Florence. The guy in there was very patient to show me several options and at the same time assure me of his leather quality. You just don’t know – at this point, right? I mean it looks like good quality, it smells like good quality, and it seems to be a good leather shop – so you just have to trust it. Still, it feels like car shopping. At one point he said to me, “I need a smoke and a coffee. You stay here in my shop with the leather and I will bring you a cappuccino.’ Okay, why not, I’ll take a 3rd of the morning. The parallels were similar in a car shop, right? ‘Can I bring you a drink? A coffee?’

He returned with my cappuccino and then he went back outside to have his smoke while I scanned the leather options. I finally decided on my purchases and he was over exaggerated in the way he was assuring me I was not getting ripped off and he was offering me deals, etc. I walked out of there not knowing for sure, but was happy with my purchases and for having that checked off o my list. I am not a ‘shopper’ – so I have little bandwidth for long negotiated shopping processes. We headed back to the apartment as the sky looked like it could break out in rain at any moment and I didn’t want my new leather getting drenched. By now it was around 12:30pm, and we thought it would be a good window to pack while we waited for the rain to pass through.

We got most of our packing done and our clothes laid out for the next morning. With a 3:30am wake-up the next morning, we wanted to do as much in advance as possible. After we got to a good place, we went out again with our umbrellas and shopped some more. By 3:30pm, we were ready for a bite so popped into ‘Eataly’  a fun beautifully laid out Italian marketplace with locations around Italy, Europe, and a few popping up in the U.S. (I just looked on-line and saw they will be opening a Century City location in the fall of 2017. Hooray for a little slice of Italy close to home.)

We grabbed lunch at Eataly – a pizza of sorts for Dana and a big bready pizza bread sandwich for me. It was heaven. Imagine a great pizza crust with good lettuce and meat on it, that was it. Basically the meat and lettuce were just good covering for the fact that I wanted to eat a big piece of bread for lunch on my last day in Italy. After lunch we popped into an Italian card store so that I could pick up an officially Italian thank you card for Jay. It was the least I could do is to write out my gratitude on some fancy Italian note card.

Soon enough it was time to head back and get ready for dinner. Our dinner reservation was for 7:30pm and we wanted to leave the apartment around 7pm.  Our last exit out of the apartment had us laughing at the lock system of the apartment which was a little over the top, but I’m sure at the level that would make my mother happy to know how locked in we were each night.

By now the rain had passed through and it was a pleasant early evening to stroll to dinner and to sit with the feeling that this was it, our last evening stroll, our last dinner in Italy. Again you are ready for it to be over and go home and at the same time you don’t want it to end.

We arrived at 13 Gobbi and they put us near the middle of the restaurant – as it seems they seat from the back to the front as the evening progresses and the real Italians start pouring in around 9pm are seated mostly up front. At the 7:30pm hour we were surrounded by other ‘early bird’ travelers who also perhaps had a 3:30am wake-up like us or were eating with lively children (also the case).

Regardless, lots can be solved with a great waiter, good atmosphere, good wine, and delicious authentic Italian food. All of this was offered in spades at 13 Gobbi. We thoroughly enjoyed our last dinner and were looking forward to getting back to the apartment to finish the berry tart from the night before that we had brought home. When the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, we explained no dessert because of our berry tart back at the apartment.

Well, don’t think an Italian waiter who you’ve already told that you are celebrating your 50th birthday on this trip and this is your last night in town is going to let you walk out of there with out a dessert on the house. Within minutes he brought over a huge platter with two desserts, their signature chocolate cake and cheese cake and candles and his version of 50 squirted out from a chocolate sauce bottle penned on the plate.

What could we do? We just went with it and embraced it of course. As I had done the honors the night before with the candles on the tart, I had Dana blow out the candles on this dessert. After she blew out the candles, we both eyed the dessert and said, ‘Wow, we are so full, I don’t think we can eat this.’ Again, we were faced with the after-Italian-dinner-too-full-for-dessert dilemma. And again, somehow we found room.

After the meal, we paused for a few souvenir last pictures out in front of the restaurant and began our walk home. Along the way, we took little detours to enjoy the evening. We even saw a store that only had one big neon ‘Triangle’ in it, and we felt that was a sign of our future headquarters for our two-decade-and-going Triangle (Dana, Lisa, and Louise).

We showered and were in bed by 12:30am and set every alarm we had for 3:30am. You just don’t want to miss your taxi that is coming at 4:20am, as that could set off a string of missed flights and connections. No, we wouldn’t let that happen. We would just hope for sleep on the flight home and at least three hours of rest on this night. I guess you could say, we officially burned the candle to the very end, even beyond the very last birthday wish candles, and were hoping for a power 3-hour rest. Um, not so much….

Perhaps it was watching the dining room scene of Beauty and the Beast over and over during the flight over to Italy that had that song ‘Be our guest’ in the background of my head for most of the trip. I don’t know why, but that scene always makes me smile and feel joy to the deepest part of my core to imagine a dinner being served up like that one. It is the scene that starts with Lumiere saying ‘Ma chere Mademoiselle, it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. And now we invite you to relax, pull up a chair, as the dining room proudly presents…your dinner.’

I never in my wildest dreams imagined that kind of unexpected dinner would come to life for me – and on this trip, no less. As you’ll recall, my last blog entry had me saying yes to a 2-scoop gelato at 4:15pm (with an 8pm dinner reservation), which made Dana a little nervous. She was so concerned that I wouldn’t spoil my appetite on this day – like she had never been on the whole trip. I assured her I would be up for her special surprise and be ready to go by 7pm to give us an hour to walk to the destination (which was only about a 15 minute walk). But we always had to allow time to get lost – especially on this night.

I spent the time in-between gelato and 6pm, blogging while Dana rested and tried to figure out the washing machine. The washing machines in Europe are so counter intuitive – they make no sense. Even if someone shows you how to use it, as the lady who gave us the orientation did just the day before, you somehow forget and you just have to keep pressing buttons and finally something starts happening. Happy to say we figured it out.

It was 6pm and I still hadn’t made a move to get ready. I was in the sweet spot of wrapping up my blog and knew that if I didn’t finish, it would take me so much longer to pick up later. And time for blogging was always scarce. Dana reminded me that we needed to leave by 7pm. I assured her I would be ready, even as I doubted a little myself that I would be ready. However, I knew it was important to her and she had made a special plan for tonight, so soon enough I was in the shower and getting ready.

We walked out of the apartment door by 7pm, and laughed again at all of the crazy locks on the door that went every which way. You definitely felt like NOBODY was going to get in there once you locked the door, which felt over the top, but I knew my mom would be happy to know we were so locked into our rooms at night.

Dana had toyed with the idea of getting a taxi to take us to the restaurant so that we wouldn’t be sweaty when we arrived and I told her I thought we could just walk slow and the walk would be nice. She agreed. I’ll never forget the way she took charge of the evening – had the map folded in a special way and marked up to make sure we were headed in the right direction. We stopped at every intersection and looked up at the street names and she would say, ‘Okay, I want this street to be….’ And it always was, it was the magic green light to keep going in the direction that we were headed.

Once we were about two-thirds of the way there, I could see her relaxing a bit and she would say ‘we have time, we can window-shop as we go.’ Which we did. It was really a fun walk and the day was cooling down. All of the while the anticipation was building in my head thinking and wondering – just where are we going? We hadn’t been in this direction yet and we were definitely walking through neighborhoods and locals walking home from work, etc.

At last, I see ahead a building that looks like a mini-palace from the side. Then I see a man come down steps in coat-tails and fancy white gloves. We get to the front and the building is the Four Seasons in Florence. She says, ‘Wow, wouldn’t it be nice to have dinner here?’ I say, ‘Yah, that would be fantastic.’ Then she says, ‘I have a confession, I didn’t plan this surprise tonight, someone else did.’ And she hands me envelope to open. I was confused and a little stunned, as in, ‘Huh? someone else thought ahead to coordinate with you for this?’

I opened the envelope to see an outrageous Gift Certificate from my boss, Jay, which read ‘To the best partner I could imagine, for your birthday of birthdays.’ The Gift Certificate was good for a chef’s special 8-course dinner and wine tasting at the one Michelin star rated Il Palagio, inside the Four Seasons.  I sat there stunned while I was trying to absorb that this was really happening. Was I really about to be Belle in my own Beauty of the Beast dining scene? Was my boss so awesome as to know exactly what would knock my socks off and say I appreciate you and find a way to do that in Italy?

All of these thoughts were flooding through my mind, as we went inside. The property was truly stunning. Again, I was standing around still in shock and happy to have Dana in-charge and understanding exactly where we needed to go – even once we got inside as I was still a little bit in a state of shock. Before we entered the dining area I wanted to text Jay to thank him in advance for what was about to be the dinner of a lifetime.  So we stopped for me to do that and also to take a few pictures in the beautiful lobby.

Once inside the restaurant, they escorted us to our beautiful table in the corner and again, I sat there stunned for a good part of the first hour. Dana could see this and said, “Lisa, you need to snap out of it and move from stunned to present and appreciating this dinner that is so deserved and clearly designed to celebrate you!” She was right, what was I thinking? I needed to ‘Snap out of it!’

From that moment on, I was incredibly present and giddy – right along with Dana. She was also thrilled to be a part of this dinner and equally appreciative of Jay’s generosity extended towards both of us. They offered two chef tasting menus – a regular and a vegetarian menu. We ordered one each so that we could sample and see all of the offerings throughout the course of the evening.

Every course offered exceptional Italian wine as an accompaniment and the  complementary tasting on your palette was complete perfection. They also made sure that the portion sizes were not overdone so that you could actually eat an 8-course meal. Also each wine tasting pour was perfect to complement the current dish, but not so much that you would walk out of there stumbling and slurring your words.

I kept thinking as they brought out each course and wine and other details – a 5 blended organic extra virgin olive oil, scrumptious bread in silver trays, a cookie tower, a little special chair for my tacky Rick Steve’s travel bag – wow, this IS my Belle moment. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as throughout the evening I was still in a little bit in shock over all of the detail and planning that went into this night.

We were living every bit of the Beauty and the Beast dining scene and what they sing near the end of that song, ‘While the candlelight’s still glowing, let us help you, we’ll keep going. Course by course, one by one, ’til you shout, ‘Enough I’m done!’ Then we’ll sing you off to sleep while you digest, tonight you’ll prop your feet up, but for now let’s eat up, be our guest, be our guest, be our guest, please be our guest.’

After four hours (and after midnight), we finally had our ‘Enough I’m done!’ moment when we’d finished three dessert courses and decaf cappuccinos. We even had to take the majority of the berry tart (3rd course dessert) to-go as we just couldn’t fit another bite in our stomachs. The night was complete when the maître d’ came by our table after we asked for the check and said with an adorable thick Italian accent, ‘Your boss has taken care of everything, Happy Birthday and Buona Sera.’

Wow. Just wow. That’s how we walked out of there – floating on a cloud. After a little walk-about on their outdoor grounds that were beautifully lit up and perfect for outdoor strolling, we headed to the door. The front door man called us a cab and soon enough these two ‘Belles’ living a fairy tale evening were chauffeured back to our apartment near Duomo, well past the stroke of midnight.

With only two full days left of vacation, and exhaustion creeping in we decided that this day needed to start with an ultimate cappuccino. Dana found a coffee shop on Yelp that boasted of Duomo latte art. As we would be climbing to the top of the Duomo that afternoon, this we had to see and this we needed to jump-start us for the day and the climb.

Once again, we pulled out our trusty map and walked in circles for a while before we found the coffee shop. Looking at a map of any big city in Italy plays tricks with your mind as streets are all laid out like macaroni noodles jumbled together and they often change names at intersections. We were far from our grid-like San Fernando Valley roots, so it was constantly a bit of a challenge, but there was always something fun to see along the way.

We found the coffee shop and a tatted up Barista responded to my ‘Due cappuccini’ – I felt fully fluent by now in coffee shops with my ability to say ‘two cappuccinos’ in Italian. They always responded to me in English – I wasn’t fooling anybody. Within 5 minutes – true to the Yelp reviews and photos – we had our Florence themed coffees. One had the Duomo and the other had a flower, also significant. As the official name of the Duomo is The Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore – or ‘Cathedral of Santa Maria of the Flower.’ Also, the Coat of Arms of the City of Florence is a red Fleur-de-lis. The theme of flowers is big here.

We sat in the coffee shop at a corner inside table in the late morning and it was quite hot outside already. Inside was only a little better, but preferable even with the coffee shop dog under our table startling me a few times. As in, ‘What is that rubbing on my leg? Please don’t have fleas.’ Regardless – you really didn’t want to linger too long as it was also stuffy inside. The humidity made everything still and you just were hoping for a good rain soon.

After our morning coffee and pastry, Dana headed to the Museo Galileo that she wanted to see that would be helpful in the subject she would be teaching to her 4th graders this year. Museo Galileo holds one of the most important scientific collections nationally and internationally. Hats off to all teachers that immerse themselves as they have opportunity to help bring subjects alive for their students. Me, I went back to the apartment and took the opportunity to relax and blog in the air-conditioned apartment.

Dana lasted about 60 minutes at the museum. Turns out dreams of an A/C filled museum to browse wasn’t realistic in a severe medieval building during a heat wave. Regardless, she braved the museum, purchased some fun books and also came back to the apartment with grilled paninis and a bottle of Rose wine that she said the sandwich man said she ‘must’ include with our sandwiches for a balanced meal. When in Florence….

Next it was time for our Duomo Tour – Small Group VIP Tour and Secret Terraces that we purchased in advance.  While we had been dreading the climb up the tower in the heat, this turned out to be an excellent experiential and highly informative tour of the Duomo.

I loved the headsets which allowed us to hear our guide, Christina, perfectly. She was amazingly educated and passionate about the history of the Duomo, and went into great detail about the architecture, the art, the artists, and the history of Florence.

The tour started in an underground in the crypt where you can see the ruins of the foundation of the original church below the current cathedral, Roman era. I could have spent hours down there looking at all of the displays that explained the history of how everything was built using ancient methods – truly a wonder.

Then, once inside the cathedral we were given more info on the history of Florence and the significance of that church as well special access behind the ropes where most people can’t go and more history on the structure and paintings inside. The Last Judgment scenes painted on the inner dome by Vasari and Zuccaro are among the largest paintings on Earth, and are super intense – so much to look at and absorb.

Finally, you head up 150 steps to the secret terraces where very few visitors get to go. This is an amazing view of the rooftop of the Duomo.  It was quite windy up there and harder to hear our guide as the wind whipped into her microphone, but really the view overlooking Florence was breathtaking to behold and enough for your mind to focus on.

Once the tour ended on the terrace, the guide bid us farewell and said we were welcome to climb to the top of Giotto’s Bell Tower. A mere additional 414 steps up a winding narrow stone staircase. Imagine a long line of tourists on the staircase with you – so no stopping – and folks coming down the same staircase at times. It was a little like the country one-lane road driving only fewer places to pull over. Still, as with all things in Italy, it works.

We braved on and continued up the steps to the top of the cupola and were rewarded with one of the most epic vantage points ever. Truly breathtaking up there to see the City. When you are down on the ground and look up at this Cathedral you feel so tiny. Once again, when you are at the tippy top, feelings of being a tiny spec in this City hit you but at the same time you feel you are soaring above the City like a bird. Truly a magnificent experience.

When we came back down, I was hungry  – it was late afternoon, I was ready for a gelato. Dana – who never said a word the whole trip about what I did or did not feel like eating said – ‘Careful, don’t spoil your appetite.’ My head snapped back to look at her in shock and as if to say, ‘Say what?’ She reminded me of what she had told me earlier in the day. She had planned a very special 50th birthday surprise that evening and wanted to make sure I was hungry.

I processed that quickly and said, ‘Okay, only 1 scoop then.’ A compromise. I assured her I would still be hungry but needed something to cool my jets. This little place was on the corner of the street we were staying at and I had been captivated by their décor and outfits during the times I had walked by before. That is always a sign of good gelato, right? Cool décor and outfits? Maybe it was, as that was my favorite and last gelato of the trip.

Also, I caved in and when turn came I actually ordered two scoops – Frutti di Bosco and Mango. Couldn’t decide on the two. In my defense, I did just order one at first and the guy behind the counter said with sad eyes, ‘Only one?’ I agreed, let’s go wild, I’ll take two.  It was the perfect ‘I climbed Duomo’ celebratory treat. The taste and texture (also so important) were out of this world and I knew I still had plenty of room for the special dinner Dana was protective over that evening.

We were packed up and ready to leave the farm by 10am Sunday morning. Over the weekend the weather had turned hot with a heat wave including high humidity. It became increasingly difficult to keep our stone house cottage with no A/C cool, even with a powerful ceiling fan. Up until that point – the place really maintained a nice temperature, but by Sunday morning – it was too hot for us. The kind of heat where everything feels sticky and the last thing you want to do after a shower is blow dry your hair. We were looking forward to our next location that would have air conditioning to get us through the Tuscan heat wave!

As we packed our car and slowly drove off down the gravel road one last time, there was a bit of sadness to leave this beautiful farm, the family, and the security and quiet of the visit to the countryside of Tuscany. Just as we were thinking that and as if on queue, as we were pulling away and videoing our exit up pops the legend Carlo in our frame walking across the farm yard towards the olive groves. It was like seeing the high school quarterback star after the game, heading to the lockers. We reverted to high school again and were waiving and saying ‘Goodbye Carlo! Goodbye!’ while giggling. Really ANY family member could have popped into view at that point and we would have been equally star struck.

The drive into Florence on country roads and then the Autostrada took about 2 hours. I had to be on top of my game driving back into the thick of the City. The highway driving was the most interesting. When you have been driving on country roads all week – suddenly a 3-4 lane highway all in one direction seems luxurious and at the same time like you are speeding out of control. It doesn’t help that the speedometer reads in kilometers, so when it is saying 110, you have to keep reminding your brain that you are not actually driving 110 MILES per hour. It’s more like 68 miles per hour. Regardless, hasty Italians on their way to the City zip around you and often straddle lanes for long periods of time.

Soon enough we made it back to the Hertz counter and returned our car. We waited for about 20 minutes for a taxi that would take us to our Air BNB from Hertz. If we were thinking Florence was going to be less hot, it wasn’t and we were waiting in a hot garage. We were happy to see our taxi driver when he finally arrived and he had the AC pumping in the car.

It should have only been about a 10 minute drive, but it turned into a 25 minute drive when our driver had the misfortune of turning down a one way street with no exit for several blocks, behind a trash collection truck that was working the street on this Sunday. YES! We got to watch the truck lift, empty, and place back down no less than 20 trash cans at 5-6 different stops. There was no where we could go – so we endured through the process until we could get to a cross street and our taxi driver could move away from the trash collector.

We finally arrived at our Air BNB, literally steps from the Duomo, and a nice young woman was there to meet us. She brought us up to the apartment and showed us around. Then she pulled out a map and noted several different points of interest that we might want to take note of – here is the grocery store, here is good gelato, here are good sandwiches, here are the trash cans, etc. It was a crash course and orientation into City life for the next 3 days.

After she left, we decided to head towards the Mercato Centrale – a fancy restored warehouse where you can walk around to different vendors and try and sample different foods and each lunch (similar to the Ferry Building Marketplace in San Francisco). As we walked towards there, we kept getting turned around looking at the map and the Google Maps on our phone wasn’t working. It’s so interesting how you get to a new place and getting oriented does take a little time before you feel like you understand directions.

On the way to the Mercato Centrale, we saw the cutest little restaurant that caught our attention. We thought, why are we trying to walk all the way down there in this heat, with the cutest little restaurant right in front of us? We were both embraced the spontaneity of the moment and sat down. Our waiter was a delight and had a combo whistle or other sound he would make for emphasis at certain moments. As in, ‘Here is your wine!’ Punctuated by a whistle with a crescendo. It reminded me of cartoon sounds when there are no words.

We ordered the most delicious fresh salad with a balsamic drizzle and goat cheese – it was super refreshing. That was followed by the chef’s sample of three different pastas of the day (why limit yourself to just one?). We were headed to the Mercato Centrale originally afterall, so the sampling experience was fresh on our minds. We couldn’t even eat half of all of the dishes, but enjoyed the opportunity to sample. After a bottle of wine and the lunch, we were ready to head back for unpacking and a little rest (a nap for Dana and blogging for me).

But first we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few supplies for the next few days. Farm life was on our mind and we naively thought we’d still want to make breakfasts in the City. 75% of what we bought that day (besides the bottled water), never was consumed. BUT, it felt better to know, we had a few things to munch in in the mornings if we needed a little something. Who knew we would want to finish the vacation so recklessly with cappuccinos AND pastries every morning.  We should have known, I guess as at the farm we were limited to our coffee pot for breakfast each day – delicious yes, but a cappuccino it was not! We were ready for some fun with creamy foam.

Back at the apartment Dana enjoyed the lounge chairs on our deck with a view of Duomo and I blogged at our little kitchen table. After about an hour, when we were ready to head out again, Dana asked if I was interested in walking to the place that is on a hill and looks out over Florence boasting the best sunset view in the City. I appreciated that she had an idea of where she wanted to go, so I was up for whatever she thought sounded like a good idea.

Given that our Google Maps on our phone never seemed to find the streets in the City in a way to orient our walks, we were happy to actually see signage (that was subtle, and yet still helpful) pointing us to the other side of the Arno River and up to the Piazzale Michelangelo. The other side of the river is where locals tend to congregate more and it had a different feel than where we were staying – so close to the Duomo and packed with tourists throughout the day.

It was a nice walk over to the main view point, but once we got there, it of course was packed. It seemed as if everyone in Florence was up there trying to watch the sunset, and we were late to the party. We saw a church (Basilica San Miniato al Monte) that was even a little bit more of a climb, but looked less crowded – so we headed that way. It was the right decision – even with a few more steps to ascend. We arrived up there just as the sun was setting. It was so peaceful and it was fun to watch those that gathered in the same spot on the steps watching the free sunset show.

It was starting to get dark and we weren’t sure if the same stair path we took to get up here was going to be lit going down, so we decided to head back. Until…Dana saw this enchanting outdoor restaurant area with live music, views, and cocktails. We had already crossed the street and then said, ‘Can we go back? I really want a Pina Colada there.’ Who am I to stand between a woman and her Pina Colada in Italy.

It was a great decision, we really enjoyed listening to the music, sipping our drinks, continuing to people watch and of course look at the sky turn different shades of red as night approached. They offered us chips, olives, and peanuts with our drinks as little side refreshments – no doubt designed to be salty to make us more thirsty. Regardless, one drink was enough for both of us and we were ready for our check. It took about 30 minutes for us to get our waiter’s attention and then the check, but we weren’t in a hurry so it was okay.

The walk back in the evening – was much cooler, and the stairs were lit as we ascended down. Walking through the streets was nice, with lively restaurants on each corner and diners enjoying food and conversation on a balmy summer night. This side of the Arno definitely had a different feel that was fun to observe.

Once back over the Arno, to our side of town near the Duomo, we again heard beautiful music with musicians giving a free concert. With the crowds of Florence and it being at night, we decided not to stay. There were just too many shady characters around with eyes roving – and you could see them moving through the crowds to take advantage of unsuspecting tourists. We had our free concert in Montepulciano, we were fine to skip this one and keep walking.

We were definitely tired when we got back to our apartment. With one last look out on our balcony at Duomo lit up at night, we got ready for bed. In this apartment we each had big beds all to ourselves, which was nice. Verses the little nun twin beds we had previously where at times if felt like you were balancing on the ledge of a wall.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day. We had reserved a private Duomo tour in the afternoon, which included a tour of the church, secret terraces, and a climb up to the top of the bell tower. In some ways we were dreading it, and wondering what it would be like in the heat. But in other ways, we were thinking the views from up there would be spectacular and we would consider it our workout for the day. A little sweat wasn’t going to kill us!

One of the hill towns that we had yet to visit yet on this trip was Montepulciano. Marta, who works for the family, told us we MUST visit this steak house called Osteria Acquacheta (www.acquacheta.eu) where they serve their signature bistecca fiorentina. She made us reservations two days prior as it is very popular and they only have two seatings per night – a 7:30pm and a 9:00pm seating. We opted for the earlier one – to give our bodies more time to digest the food if this truly was going to be some type of meat feeding frenzy.

After a day of touring around hill towns in the heat, it was hard to come back to the farm and rally again to go out to dinner and think about eating a heavy meat dinner. At some point the eating madness must stop. But rally we did – how can you say no when your hosts are stressing the importance of this steak experience. They hadn’t steered us wrong yet, so off we went.

The drive to the Montepulciano as beautiful and about 30 minutes away. I was remembering my trip 2 years ago at the foot of this hill town and the wonderful dinners I had on that trip in this town. I had confidence we were in for a treat if we could only find the ‘parking area.’ GPS can be sketchy in Italy – sometimes it leads you down one way streets – the wrong way. You see the signs ‘do not enter’ and yet you go because the hard right you need – to get to parking glory – is only a few feet away.

Turns out the hard right wasn’t there and I found myself making an Austin Power’s 30-point U-turn on the one way street to get myself turned back around. Thankfully, no other cars came up or down that road during that fun exercise and we were headed back in the right direction. I tossed the GPS directions and went by what I remembered from my trip before to get to the parking area. All the while Dana is giggling saying ‘I am so glad you are driving. The adrenaline shots must be taking a toll on your system, but you are managing like a champ!’ Her encouragement always helped.

Soon enough we were at the parking area which wasn’t as close to town as I remember as this one was a parking lot at the bottom of the hill. We definitely had a climb up, up, up to get to the center of town – which was probably good for us considering our food consumption so we weren’t complaining. We also had on our minds it was a 7:30pm seating and Marta told us, ‘Don’t be late, they will give away your seat.’ Trying to be on time on vacation jumping from activity to activity carries its own level of stress. So there we were walking as swiftly as possibility up the inclines and through the town to find ourselves out front  of the restaurant by 7:30pm sharp.

Only they weren’t quite open yet, but there were all of the other 7:30pm diners patiently waiting outside. At about 7:40pm we were all ushered inside at what amounted to one big long table were you were sitting with other diners on each side of you. And we just missed the spot where we could have had a fan blowing on us. It was hot and sweaty inside and we were a little sweaty from the climb, but what could you do at this point? We just strapped ourselves in for the ride and were ready for the steak experience of this town.

The style is very ‘Soup Nazi’ lots of rules. For example, you only get one cup and it is your water and your wine glass. You have to be drinking one or the other, but not both at the same time. We did find a loop hole that we jumped through. IF, you order a bottle of wine, you could have two glasses. So we went with that hoping for some nice stemware, but alas no. Another water glass, and yet still we happy for two glasses in front of us.

We had the cutest family of four from Denmark next to us on one side. A mom and dad traveling with their two elementary school-aged daughters (8 and 6). The girls had the most beautiful big blue eyes and blonde hair and sat there so politely the whole dinner. They were from Denmark and both parents both spoke English. The mom had actually spent a year in Yorba Linda during college as part of an exchange. It was interesting to talk to them between courses and hear about their travels as a European family – what summer vacations look like for them.

On the other side we had this American couple that had retired in Italy. We met several of those types on our trip. Couples that had fallen in love with Italy and transitioned their life over there after retirement. This couple was a little quirky, however. They were refined East Coasters with an art and art history museum bent. Aka – the opposite of us, relaxed West Coasters with a wine and coffee bent. They kept trying to tell us what to do in Florence (when we weren’t asking). ‘You MUST visit this museum and see the ‘XYZ Exhibit, it is one of a kind.’ Complete with directions they would rattle off… ‘When you get to Florence, follow the fork by the Ponte Vecchio, make a right at….and a left at…then follow the road around through the trees.’ We just sat there with our eyes wide open thinking – do they actually think we are absorbing these directions? Back to the Denmark family…

All of the while this is happening there is a man within view at the foot of the restaurant in front of a wood table and wood stove butchering up half of a cow with a massive steel cleaver. You could see him whacking at the cow in the distance and then bringing a portion out to each party and seeing if they wanted that much meat. If you wanted that much, he wrote the price on the butcher paper that covered your table. It was hilarious and a little intense. So much for my vegan stint!

Soon enough he came by to ask us what we wanted, we said – please, your smallest portion of a bistecca fiorentina (which is an Italian style – T-bone steak). It is said to be one of the glories of Tuscan cuisine – grilled rare – over a wood fire.  I’m here to say – even the smallest cut is massive and when they say rare, it was rare – even for this rare meat lover. He came back with our piece which was still looking huge, but like the Soup Nazi, you kind of felt like you had to just go with it and say okay.  He wrote a scribble of the weight and price and off he went with your meat to have it cooked over the open flame.

As starters, we ordered a salad and no sides – we knew we had to save our appetite for the bistecca. They finally brought the steak out and it indeed still looked huge. No shrinkage in cooking there at all. We each took a piece and Dana was looking for the most cooked portions around the edge and I was still convinced I would be picking up the bone at the end and enjoy eating straight off the bone. I think we both at two slices and were full. The meat was seasoned well, charred nicely, but a little tough and the Denmark dad kept saying to us., ‘You actually have better meat in the U.S. We only by steak from Denver in our local market.’ Ha, ha. Well, what do you know. Shout out to Denver from Tuscany!

We finished dinner and decided to skip dessert there and find a gelato in town to walk around a little bit help our food digest. We leave the restaurant and head towards the center of town and hear music and opera singing. It was beautiful – we find the source in the town square and what do you know, it was the most beautiful free concert outdoors that started at 9pm just as we arrived.

We grabbed two gelatos and found a seat in bleachers they had erected for the concert. As we sat there eating our gelatos and enjoying the cooler air of this hill town we could hardly believe how wonderful it was to sit there and find this amazing free music concert to enjoy after dinner. We sat there for about an hour and Dana said after her first gelato, ‘Just an FYI, that was one of two possibly three gelatos I will enjoy during the concert.’ LOL. You go girl.

The walk back to the car was all down hill – what a night! As much as we had to rally to go on this night, we are so glad we had this experience in this hill town, with that outrageous steak dining experience, and ending with this concert and gelato. In the morning we would be leaving the farm for Florence.