Month: November 2018

On Thursday morning we woke up to a good morning text from Marta with a little ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ graphic text and a reminder that we were all meeting about 30 minutes from the farm at a small little town on the way in front of a Train Station. It was a VERY misty and foggy morning.

Journey to Torrita Di Siena

As I had done many times during the trip, I plugged the address into WAZE GPS and fully expected to arrive at the train station in Torrita Di Siena by 9AM. Marta’s text said to leave the farm by 8:15-8:20 to get there on time. I appreciate how they help you by padding extra time in there for you to get lost,  just in case!

We headed out in the fog with the lights on and drove slowly and were making all the right turns and arrived exactly where the GPS told us the train station was, only it wasn’t the train station. We were thinking, hmm, is this it? Are we the first to arrive? Maybe? We are looking around when Roy rolls up as his GPS had led them there also. I replug the destination back into another GPS program as WAZE didn’t know this spot as it led us both here. It said we were 6 minutes away, we still had some time before 9am, so no problem. Roy said, ‘I’ll follow you.”

We get going again in this route that looked like a loop and then the GPS told us to go down this narrow dirt road. That should always be your first sign to rethink things. So we are driving down this dirt road that is getting narrower and narrower, like Alice in Wonderland, when the GPS tells us to make a left. Only the left was onto what looked like a foot bridge with rails on both sides. I was half thinking, can I squeeze on that? I looked at Carla and we both started laughing and we decided, no way. We were going to need to turn around. I pulled a little further up the road and talked with Roy and he said, “I’ll continue to follow you.’

We head back out of the dirt road and on to the main road, knowing we are within the vicinity of the train station, but wondering why a train station is so hard to get to. My GPS is telling me to go right and Roy is behind me honking telling me to go left, so I go left, hoping the GPS will redirect me again. The GPS swirls around a bit on the phone and finds a new route from this direction. We pull up to this ‘light’ on a two-way road. Carla says, ‘What is that?’ It looked like it had been rolled out all temporary as a light as it was on wheels. We both started laughing again. I guess they were doing road-work and needed a way to close directions on this two-lane highway to let alternate directions pass with the lights. We finally roll up to actual train tracks with another shady looking light, but fortunately there is a little ‘local’ car in front of us who I am trusting, ‘knows the ropes’ as we sat at this red light. The GPS looked like it was telling us to make a right onto the actual train tracks, but we followed the little local car and could see there was a tiny road right beside the tracks after you crossed the rail road tracks that led us right to the train station.

As we were rolling in to the train station area, we could see faithful Marta and Carlotta on the streets waiving in lost guests to the parking lot. Very few found it here without getting lost on this day. To the ones that did and are reading this blog – cheers to you! I give you the ‘GPS in Italy Master’ Award.

We were meeting here to park and get a coffee, that sounded really good right about now. We parked and saw others rolling into the parking lot about now as well. We walked into the coffee shop to see about half of our group ‘the GPS in Italy Masters’ already sipping their coffees. Either that or they left before us! Ha, ha. It is great, because our group never gave each other a hard time about getting lost, because it had happened to all of us and when your turn was up, your turn was up to get lost or make a few wrong turns.

The coffee shop/baker had the most amazing display of sweets I had ever seen. Having been off sugar for several months now, but having dipped in a few times on this trip, I knew this would be Keto suicide to even try any of these sweets now. Also this was Thanksgiving Day and the plan was to fast all day to have an appetite for the feast they were preparing for us to eat that evening. I had tasted the culinary talents of the chef Gian Carlo last year, so I knew to save my appetite. We ordered two coffees and stood around and sipped them catching up with the others as we all warmed up inside the coffee shop/bakery. After about 20 minutes, Carlotta and Marta signaled it was time for us to head off towards Cortona.

Visit to a Monastery 

We were going to caravan with all of our cars and Carlotta and Marta in the lead in Marta’s car. This drive took us on main highways and it seemed a lot easier. Carla and I kept wondering, why didn’t we just meet in Cortona? Once we arrived at our first stop, I understood why. They were taking us to a place just outside of Cortona at the Eremo delle Celle where St. Francis founded this hermitage in 1211. It probably would have been hard to all find the little parking area where they wanted us. This place was also in the mountains and the higher we climbed up the road, the more we came out of the mist and fog to see a breathtaking location.

We all parked and headed up to the hermitage where a full-on monk met us at the door. The kind you imagine in that long brown robe, with a rope around the waist. The surroundings were truly breathtaking with a river flowing alongside the location. It was so peaceful here and you could see it as a place where these monks, who wanted to live a life of contemplation, could find quiet and solitude here. They had arranged in advance for the monk to give us a tour.

He led us into a small little ‘chapel’ I think, and gave us the history of the place as translated through Carlotta. I got lost on a lot of the details and kept focusing on the running shoes and khaki pants I could see peeking out from under the bottom of the monk’s robe. I was wondering if this was a modern monk and after we all leave, does he go for a run or hang out in his khaki pants and a flannel shirt. All questions I had on my mind as he explained the life of peasant and St. Francis in these hermit cottages. We also got to see the cell where St. Francis spent most of his time near the end of his life. He was probably a small man as it was very tiny.

The monk led us into the worship room that I thought was cool and we formed a circle where the choir would offer up worship songs and then alternate with silence, in response. He explained this to us as there was no actual choir in there at the time. I really was captivated by the painting on the wall that showed Mary and Joseph as new parents to Jesus when he is a toddler. The painting also depicts his cousin John the Baptist, who looks like he is 3-4 pointing at Jesus. This represents the Divine given knowledge John was given to know and point to Jesus as the savior when he leapt in his mother’s womb when Mary first came to visit Elizabeth when she was 3 months pregnant. I thought it was fascinating to see a depiction of the toddler Jesus with Mary’s protective arm around him. He is looking at a scroll in the painting also, but he is too young to read, the monk said this represents the fact that he is the Word of God.

Near the end of the tour, the monk asked if anyone knew the prayer of Mary. John and Lynnette raised their hands and Lynnette said, ‘The girls better be raising their hands as well, we sent them to Catholic school!’ Ha, ha. Regardless, the monk points to Lynnette and asks her to recite the prayer so he can repeat it in English for the group. It was so funny, she panicked and forgot everything but the first couple of phrases. She was beating herself up about it and walking away saying, ‘I really DO know it.’ I told her, I believed her and that it really didn’t matter, we appreciated her raising her hand. As the days passed, Lynnette and her family had really captured a place in our hearts. Each one of them so very precious and full of goodness and warmth. One of my favorite moments of the trip the day before was when it was cold and we were at the olive oil place and Lynnette looked down and could see socks on my feet as I had ‘no show’ socks with my walking shoes. She said, ‘OMG, did you forget your socks! Do you forget to bring them? You need socks, it is too cold. I brought plenty, I would be happy to loan some to you.’ She said this in all sincerity. I laughed and said, ‘No, I ‘m good! I have socks on, they are called ‘no shows’ and she said, ‘Ohhhh.’ But that is Lynnette and her husband Tom, they would give you the shirt off their back or in this case, the socks out of their suitcase, if you needed them.

After the tour of the monastery, we headed back to the parking lot, to head to Cortona. We were all packed in tight there and I was up against a stone wall that I didn’t realize actually curved in right in front of my right bumper. As I pulled forward to give someone else more room on my left, I could hear ‘crunch.’ I was up against something on my right bumper. I pulled back thinking I cleared it to turn and heard crunch again. Both Carla and I look at each other and start laughing, and she says, ‘I can’t believe you just did that twice.’ I was just hoping I hadn’t damaged the ‘prestigious’ car. And turns out I didn’t damage it, there were no marks on the bumper. Happy for bumpers. Carlotta could see it was tight and helped me maneuver around the outlet in the stones, then she hopped in and drove with us to Cortona.

We were the lead car now in the Caravan and she had to remind me a few times to slow down so I didn’t lose the others. I told her my nickname back home was ‘grandma’ so it was surprising to hear anyone tell me I was driving too fast. She said, ‘What? No, you are not a grandMA driver.’ We all laughed. When I quote the Italians speaking English it is hard to really express how cute they sound in their emphasis and expression of English words. But this was another moment where the expression was so endearing.

She led us to a parking lot in Cortona where we all met – it was below the hill town. We crossed the street and amazingly, it revealed 2 sets of escalators to take us to the base of the hill town. I had never seen this in any other town. It made me wonder if the success of the movie, Under the Tuscan Sun, highlighting Cortona, brought enough extra cash into the town for them to do escalator upgrades. As thankful as I was to not have to make the climb, I wasn’t sure how I felt about seeing modern escalators in Italy near a hill town. I hoped this wouldn’t catch on as it is a display of modern life that seems out of context in a country that has done so well to preserve the past and give you the feeling that you have landed back in time.

Balsamic Vinegar Tasting in Cortona

We headed over to a place called Enoteca Molesini in the city center of Cortona for a vinegar tasting. Twelve of us did the tasting and squeezed around this small table. A man named, Marco, introduced himself as the owner and would lead us through the tasting. He had the same opening we had heard many times, ‘This place has been in my family for 3-4 generations, etc.’ He travels all over the world, including the U.S.A. as a balsamic taster. I didn’t know this was a thing, but I guess for a 4th generation Italian man who owns an Enoteca, it is.

He had four bottles in front of him ranging from $25 Euro a bottle to $150 Euro a bottle and we would do a tasting. He described the world of balsamic to Italians and basically said ‘A salad is the very END of how we use balsamic. There are so man other uses, and we really don’t add it to salad. You do because your olive oil is terrible.’ He was actually very snobby, but funny. You really couldn’t take his insults too seriously and you weren’t offended when he would say things like that. I found him very amusing in his passion for balsamic vinegar and explaining how it is made and what you look for in taste.

As he took us through the different levels of balsamic, I can’t say that I tasted one that I really liked, nor did Carla. Maybe my taste buds are too accustomed to my Trader Joe’s (Trader Giotto) balsamic glaze variety. He did explain all of the ways they use balsamic – in ice cream, on a banana, a few drops on your steak before you grill it. It did open up my mind to the possibilities, and the fact that only a few drops of really good balsamic vinegar is all you need to enhance taste. Maybe that was the issue in the tasting as it all felt too strong for me, perhaps there wasn’t enough complexity to the parmesan cheese they gave us for dipping or my pinky finger (also used in the tasting).

When it was over, a few folks went to the counter to sign up to send balsamic home. Not me, I was going to stick with my Trader Giotto variety and maybe explore others after I got home. Certainly nothing I tasted felt like it was worth the cost of shipping.

After the tasting, we walked around Cortona for a bit, another medieval hill town to explore. It was the time of siesta so the majority of shops were closed, but we did find a few open and made a few purchases. We also saw a bride and a groom coming down the church steps. I don’t think it was their wedding day, but perhaps their shoot before or after their big day. It was around 2pm and we decided to stop for a coffee on our way out-of-town and before the about 45-minute drive back to the farm. It was fun to stand there, as they do in Italy, and enjoy your cappuccino and the warmth in the cup before we walked back down to the car.  We decided to head back and rest before the big dinner that evening. I had some blogging I wanted to do and an afternoon fire and a nap sounded good to Carla.

A Thanksgiving Dinner to Remember

The Thanksgiving Dinner was scheduled for 7:30pm at Hotel Rotelle, about a 20-minute drive away. The journey out there was again slow as the morning fog had returned making visibility challenging on winding country roads. The trick was to go slow and in my mind, I was thinking, ‘Hmm, I need to limit my wine tonight as I need to be sharp for the drive back to the farm.’

We arrived a little early and waiting in the lobby while the finished preparing the room for our arrival. We could see the room through the windows – it was a grand room with a long table all set for all of the guests who would be there tonight from our group. For anyone that has prepared a Thanksgiving dinner or been involved with the clean-up afterwards, seeing something all prepared for you in advance and knowing you wouldn’t be on clean-up detail afterwards was a gift in itself.

It was fun to see everyone arriving in their ‘best outfit’ they had packed and saved for this night. I give Debbie and Vicki two of the best dressed awards from our group as the both showed up in dresses. The rest of us all looked nice in sweaters, but they stood out to me with their ensembles for the evening.

After we were led into the room, the Morriciani family arrived and by family, I mean all of them. Carlo and Isabella, and their son, Felipo. Luciana and his wife, Liliana. Carlo’s sister and husband and child (who you really don’t see during your visit), and of course, Marta and Carlotta. Marta even brought her daughter. It was like the royal family of Tuscany was joining us for this meal and they were also all decked out in their ‘holiday’ nice dinner outfits. Luciano even got a fresh haircut for the evening and had a sweater on. Most of the time he shows up to events looking like he just rolled out of bed, especially the farm tour. Literally, his hair is never combed and his farming clothes, are well, farming clothes. But you really don’t care how he shows up, as he is so authentic. It was a real treat to see him and all of them join us at our table for this event.

Isabella came by with her fur jacket on it was like she was the Princess Diana of the family. Somehow, we are all kind of starstruck by her sophistication and Milano sense of style. She really lights up a room when she enters and tonight was no different, she was smartly dressed for the occasion in a classy and sophisticated way.

Another stunner on this night, was our own dear Carlotta, when she walked in during the appetizer and came to our end of the table. We all gasped and I want to say, slightly screamed. It looked like she had an extreme makeover, compared to how we saw her everyday. She had blown our her hair with curls, put make-up on and a beautiful outfit. We all gushed over her and her look on this evening and she was so modest and just kept saying, ‘Thank you, thank you, this took a long time.’ The humility of Carlotta is so endearing. The fact is, her goal for the guests is making sure we have all that we need, so she doesn’t take time to ‘get ready’ when you see her throughout the week. It doesn’t matter to her, and it really doesn’t matter to us. You get used to her mismatched outfits, brightly-colored running shoes, hair up in a bun of sorts, and no makeup. She is perfect just the way she is. But then you see her show up on a night like tonight and it is such a treat to see her, as my dad would say, ‘all dolled up.’

After we were all seated, the wine and 5-course meal service started. We were presented with a menu that included an appetizer, a starter (which I always thought is an appetizer, but not in Italy), first course, second course, and dessert. You can see why we fasted all day. The table was so long, it was like a Tuscan state dinner, so it was hard to visit with any more than who was at your end. We were at the end of the table with Tom and Lynette, and Stephanie and Stacey and surrounded by Debbie and Randy, and to our left, Veronica and Mikey.

Between courses you could get up and visit with others who were present, which was nice. I appreciated how it wasn’t overly formal and you could just mingle in between courses. I went over to talk a bit with Isabella and Carlo and Luciano and his wife and snap a few photos during one of the breaks. During the actual meal, we had fun mostly listening to the adventures of Tom and Lynnette’s family over the years and things the girls had hidden from Tom that he had found out years later. To hear them describe their family adventures was hilarious. The whole table looked like they were having a great time and I thought the meal was delicious and well done. All of this was included in the price of our Dolce Vita stay, so it was also wonderful to feel hosted on this night by the family.

At the end of the night, there was a big surprise reveal when Diana (who was with Joe) in the group came down and sat between Carla and I as she was coming to have her glasses fixed. A screw had fallen out and I had remembered to bring my all-in-one tool. Having brought this on numerous trips over the years, I was excited to finally have a use for it in this moment. Before she handed me the glasses she put her hand out between Carla and I and said, ‘notice anything different.’ And there in front of us was a shiny engagement ring on her ring finger. We both started screaming (not loud screaming), but you know, the ‘whaaat’ real loud that causes heads to turn. That quickly caught everyone’s attention, who were now mingling, and it was announced that Joe and Diana had gotten engaged today in Cortona. How romantic! He took her to the hill where the filmed the movie Under the Tuscan Sun and asked her to marry him.

Joe and Diana are a beautiful couple in their 60’s. All week, folks would refer to one or the other as ‘your husband’ or ‘your wife’ and they would gently correct the person saying, ‘We’re not married.’ It seemed so odd, as they seemed so much like a couple. The back story is they are a widow and a widower from Arkansas, who had lost their long-term spouses 3 years ago. They had become friends shortly after their loss, and had been taking it slow after they started to date for the last 3 years. Having grown children and this dynamic is never easy, so you can see why they were taking it slow, but clearly it was time and the time was today. So some time after our balsamic tasting, Joe walked her over to the spot and popped the question. This was the capper of the night and congratulations and happiness filled the room.

It is odd and wonderful how you could take a group of strangers who didn’t know each other even a week ago and put them on a trip like this and see community formed so quickly in the joint activities we were participating in each day. Lots of conversation can happen when you are on vacation together and sipping wine. Isabella told me on this night that is one of her big goals for her visitors on these trips is that sense of belonging and community that takes time. This is why she encourages groups to stay a week as anything short of that cuts short that process. She has observed that Americans don’t take a lot of time for community back home and this is what the human spirit longs for and she hopes to provide by a visit to Cretaiole and the week on the farm.

Well, anyone could see looking around on this night, that this week was a success and the community formed this week would certainly outlast the trip itself as people on the trip were already exchanging information to stay in touch and a FaceBook group was formed to help facilitate the process. I know this is true as Dana and I were still in touch with Tony and Maddie (the honeymooners) from our last trip.

Everyone agreed this was a memorable and enriching Thanksgiving for them that exceeded their expectations. I observed that most Thanksgivings are stressful for families because of all of the baggage every family has that gets carried to those weekends and through the holidays. You have none of that here as every thing is fresh and new in relationship, like new love. You haven’t been together long enough to get on nerves. But, then I concluded, give us a couple of years of doing this and all of that deeper relationship stuff does come through and it wouldn’t be too much different from Thanksgivings back home with challenging family members. But, as Isabella told us earlier in the week, you can’t just have the sweet slice of life, you need to embrace all of that. That includes appreciation for your life back home. New friends are wonderful, but also nothing can replace your dear friends and family back home. It was nice to have this perspective in the midst of the joy of this Thanksgiving.

On the agenda for this morning was a visit to an oil press in the charming little hill town of Castelmuzio, followed by olive oil tasting with Carlo (a professional oil tester from the Provence of Siena), and concluding with a tour of their new property, La Moscadella, which will be open for tourism in March 2019.

The weather on this morning was crisp and beautiful and felt fresh like it always does after a good rain. It was about a 15-minute drive over to Castelmuzio and we found the new property where we were supposed to park, approximately 100-yards down the road from the oil press and production area of Oliviera Sant’Angelo.

A slender Italian man about my age with a man bun, came out to start explaining their process of oil production at this location. As with all tours, it starts with someone telling you that they are 4th or 5th generation and their family has been producing oil or wine on this land for over three hundred years. It is so very common to hear this opening line and it is all true. Apparently the quality of an olive and an olive oil taste comes from it’s freshness and the complexity comes from older trees.

He walked us through each stage of their organic production, which was amazing to see, every thing from where the delivery of new olives go to the final vats they are stored in, topped off by nitrogen so that no air gets inside. It was stressed many times on this day how important it is to not store olive oil for long and the maximum shelf life is really only about one year.

At the end of the tour, we were able to sample their olive oil. We learned the fresher the oil, the more it should feel fresh – like the smell of fresh grass cut, but not with that taste. Just that feeling that you know it is fresh. I was hoping to LOVE this oil as Carlotta had blurted out quickly before we began, ‘If you want to buy oil, it would be best to have it shipped as Cretaiole has run out.’ My eyes got real big. What? This can’t be! At the farm visit the other day, I decided to just order enough to ship home (5 liters) so I could share with family and friends. To hear that they were now out, was disappointing not only for me, but how was I going to tell Dana, Tony and Maddie, Cretaiole ran out of oil before I could purchase it?

I waited for my big taste of olive oil dipped in the bread and well, I just didn’t love it, nor did Carla. Not enough to buy it and have it shipped home. I was missing that peppery finish that the Cretaiole oil has and was kicking myself that they had run out of oil to ship. This is the beginning of the production season and Cretaiole only does small batches, so you have to wait until they have more to produce which involves the grandpa, Luciano, getting out there and picking more olives.

After the oil tasting we walked back down to La Moscadella, the new property, the place is off the charts. The views, the grounds, there is a swimming pool and outdoor bar – you can see how it is all starting to take shape and will be ready soon for guests in the spring. We sat down in the grand entry room downstairs where Carlo and Carlotta began the olive oil tasting process. Carlo’s English is limited so Carlotta does all of the translating during the process.

This was a good refresh from the lesson I had from the two of them last summer and good reminders on how to confirm you have good olive oil, proper storage, to make sure you clean out your storage container after each use so you don’t contaminate the new batch (if you use a refillable bottle), the characteristics of oil from different parts of Italy, and to NEVER use good oil for cooking, the taste will be lost. Only use good oil on items where it will be tasted and you can appreciate the quality of the oil. This whole time they were talking I was thinking, ‘Ugh, I can’t believed I missed out on getting some of their oil on this trip!’

After the olive tasting, Isabella showed up and started showing us around their new property. This is actually the place where Carlo and her had their wedding reception and spent their wedding night many years ago. It was a former monastery which they are turning into a mansion offering 15 suites with luxurious features and sophisticated ambiance, a Tuscan restaurant and an outdoor swimming pool. She led us from room to room and we ooo’d and ahh’d with each room and feature she showed us. Every room and bathroom is different, but they all blend somehow in this classic style.

At the end she said, ‘Oh, and let me show you the cottage.’ When we entered this dream little place, it was a drop the mic moment with a beautiful kitchen, dining area, two bedrooms and breathtaking views. All I could think was how soon can I get back here and rent one these little dream suites or this cottage. Isabella is a perfectionist and truly has a beautiful sense of style that she makes sure is reflected in her properties.

After lunch about 12 of us walked over to Castelmuzio to find a place that would serve us lunch. It was the same place where Dana and I had dinner on the roof with a 365 degree view, last summer. This time it was too cold to go up on the roof so we were happy to sit inside. It was a limited menu mostly consisting of simple dishes and beef stews. As it was a little chilly, most of us ordered a salad and beef or wild boar stew, so much so, they ran out. I offered to give up mine in lieu of something else and he offered me liver stew. I thought about it for one second and said, hmm, no on the liver, let me see, what else. Carla then just offered for us to split which seemed absolutely fine that we could split. And others joined in and said they would share there dish with me also, so really there was plenty for all including 2 liters of house wine they brought out in a jug that was absolutely wonderful.

We all enjoyed this simple lunch and pouring drops of olive oil on our bread with our new ‘expertise’ of wine. We learned to always check the expiration date on the bottle as some restaurants will use the same bottle over and over again and possibly be serving you old oil or lesser quality oil. We checked our bottle and there was literally white out over the expiration date with a new date written on it. The oil actually tasted fine though, so they probably keep refreshing the oil after they clean their containers…at least that is what we told ourselves. I had some sort of watercress salad that was fresh and delicious and a few bits of beef stew and wild boar stew with the olive oil on the bread. It was a perfect lunch and not too filling. We were all happy to not have pasta.

After lunch, the guests that were staying in Castelmuzio offered to show us their rooms, which are a fancier version of where we are staying and offers more hotel service. They clean your room every day and bring you fresh pastries each morning, etc. This is also the property they will stop renting out after next year, when the new property opens as Carlo and Isabella will be moving to the farm to this property to be closer to the new mansion with the fifteen suites.

We walked through a little wooden door to see incredible views of Tuscany in a little courtyard with beautiful sitting areas. This truly was a special little property. We then toured the rooms and were so in awe of the attention to detail and the beauty of the accommodations that are perfect for this setting. First we went into Vicki’s room (who is here solo), and it was so nice to see her beautiful living area and for a girl that decided to come solo, I was so happy she was rewarded with this wonderful room.

We then went into Teresa and Rick’s room (who have been to their properties 7 times and are already booked for next summer). It was another even bigger suite with beautiful views. They started pouring lemoncello, and cream lemoncello, and this Vecchio Amaro del Capo which is supposed to be a centuries old digestive. You can also pour it in coffee. Ever since tasting this Carla has become obsessed with finding a bottle to take home. It truly is delicious and if it works to help digestion, it is definitely needed in this country – especially on this tour. We stayed for about an hour enjoying chatting with the folks that came over to see the rooms, while sipping our apertifs.

After we left we walked around Castelmuzio a bit to take in the views. It started around about this time so out came the umbrellas. The rain still wasn’t bothering us as it is so beautiful around you and makes everything feel so fresh and clean and the feel of no crowds is such a nice contrast from summer time.

We went back to the car and headed over the Montepulciano, another favorite hill town of mine in this area. It was just starting to get dark when we arrived, but was beautiful to see because they have started to decorate for Christmas so there were little lights strung here and there. It felt magical. After we parked and got out of the car,  and we were walking around this medieval village, I said to Carla, ‘Don’t let me forget to write about how much I love this fresh rain, and the smell of firewood, and the crispness of the air.’ It is so different from my daily experience living in Southern California, it was wonderful to feel this type of weather in this place after an afternoon of seeing beautiful landscapes and fall colors on the drive out there.

This was finally a town that had some shops open so we browsed around and bought a few things and enjoyed talking with the different shop owners and also just being in awe every time we were walking along the streets of the village and looking at the lights. It had stopped raining and it was just beautiful to see the shiny stone streets, reflect the lights as we walked around.

After a few hours we headed back with our purchases and walked back down to the car. It was around 7pm now it take us 30 minutes to drive back. We each didn’t feel like a big heavy dinner and I knew Carla didn’t want to leave Italy without trying the pizza. I suggest we pick up a pizza to-go in Pienza and open our wine bottle they had given us when we arrived and make a fire. That sounded perfect to both of us so we proceeded with that plan.

We found an open PIzza place in Pienza and ordered one of their favorite Pizza, a sausage marinara of sorts with fresh cheese and waiting 15 minutes while they made it fresh for us in their wood burning oven. I was shocked that they actually had to-go boxes, but they do. I was thinking it might be too Dominoes Pizza mentality to expect they would have a to-go pizza box but apparently it wasn’t.

We proceeded with our dinner as planned and sipped our wine and ate our pizza in front of the fire and kept saying, ‘This pizza is so good. The crust. Wow.’ It absolutely was a perfect dinner for us on a cold fall night and it wasn’t too much – just enough. Our gluttony was catching up with us and we were trying to dial back, shocked every morning that our pants still fit.

After dinner, Carla washed up and laid down to just rest while I blogged (If you are reading this daily, you have to know, this takes time and so I’m letting you know the windows I am using to blog – in case you asking yourself, ‘when does she have time for this?’ Now you know.) With the crackling fire she ended up falling asleep. I ended going out to get more firewood at some point and ran into Roy who offered to help me carry it back. I knew Carla was covered up, so when he asked ‘Can I just bring it in for you?’ as it was heavy, I said, ‘Sure, please.’

Well of course as soon as he brings it in, two of the cats decide to dart into the room. I’m highly allergic so I’m wanting them out as soon as possible but not wanting to touch them. Carla wakes up and sees Roy in our room and us trying to get cats out of there and she blurts out, ‘OMG, what is happening?’ Ha, ha. I am sure that was an abrupt and disorienting awakening to her late evening ‘nap.’ We laughed about it after Roy left and she laid back down.

I continued blogging and about 15 minutes later I hear a knock at the door – it is 10:30pm. I think it is one of the girls upstairs and there is Luciano, the grandpa, who drove his old fiat over from the farm and is inviting Carla and me to come to the veranda for grappa and Vin Santo and to further tempt me he shows me he brought a tub of Ricotta cheese. I’m thinking, hmmm, I usually am not interested in ricotta unless it is surrounded by sauce and lasagna noodles, but okay. He is so sweet and is all dressed up to visit with the visitors. I say, ‘Ah sure, okay, I will meet you over there in 30 minutes.’ He speaks no English so I am hoping he got the jest of it, I kept saying, ‘30 in Italian,’ and then saying ‘minutos.’ Thinking that is probably how they say minutes or close enough.

I close the door and say, ‘Come on Carla, get up, we need to go visit with Grandpa.’ She says, ‘No way, I’m not getting out of bed, it’s too cold. I’m already in my PJs.’ As she is half laughing. I say fine, I’ll go meet him. It’s kind of like the thing to do here is to go spend some time with grandpa for an hour or so. Eventually he turns on Frank Sinatra dance music and all of the ladies get a twirl on the dance floor with him . He literally comes just about every night knocking on doors and whoever is available goes and visits with him.

I went to the enclosed veranda and Lynette and Stacey showed up about that time from dinner with their family. Stephanie was also there at first but gave the ol ‘I’ll be right back’ never to return line. So it was the three of us ladies with Luciano, and we all had some grappa (he said he had a new flavor) and took our turn on the dance floor. Stacey and I got the giggles several times and would make eyes at each other when he was dancing with either one of us. Especially when he was pulling her a little too close and kissing her cheek. What is happening? When I took my turn, I turned into a fancy dancer and told him I dance more like Dancing with the Stars so there would be lots of moves and twirling and less pulling me close and cheek kissing. I think the didn’t know what to make of me, but his eyes were dancing and he was laughing.

At the end of the night – after we each had about 2 dances and we made Lynette do the final dance, we told him we had to go sleep. It was about midnight and we had an early wake up the next morning. He wouldn’t let us leave without taking some ricotta cheese to go on a paper plate. Is this a thing here? Lynette was trying to protest and Stacey blurts out, ‘Mom, he is like grandpa he’s going to do what he wants, just take it.’ It was very funny.

So we all left with our little plates of ricotta cheese and Carla was up when I got back the room and said, ‘OMG, what happened and why do you have a plate of ricotta cheese in your hand?’ We both laughed and I gave her the update before I headed to the shower and then to bed. It was definitely a full day. But full of surprises and wonder and completely satisfying in so many unexpected ways. Tuscany is quite an amazing place and I went to bed again so grateful to be here.

I had set our alarm for 11am the night before thinking that was a ridiculous amount of extra time to sleep in. Nope. We both were woken up by the alarm at 11am and started getting ready as we had to be out of the door by 12:15pm. We were going to be driving our own car a few miles into Pienza to catch the rest of the group that had done the art & artisan tour in Pienza (the one we had skipped).

It was actually pouring rain this morning and again we were glad that we weren’t walking around in the rain visiting the different local artist shops. When we walked out of our apartment with our rain gear and umbrella, the air smelled so incredibly fresh and the rain was wonderful. We didn’t mind it a bit as it was just part of what makes everything all around us green. More rain for the olive trees, more rain for the wheat that has just been planted in the ground, more rain for the soil for grapes. Also, we don’t get much rain in our part of California, so a fresh rain felt wonderful.

We drove over to the Moricciani family home in Pienza, where the farm is, to board the transportation that was going to shuttle us back and forth to the wine tasting. Once again, we were so happy that they had thought to arrange this for us as it was the most responsible and safe thing to do for guests that will be tasting 7 different wines with ‘generous’ pours (per Isabella).

As we drove into town, we could see our group walking back from Pienza and they were mostly soaked, but all in good spirits and said they really enjoyed the tour this morning visiting a pottery artist and a blacksmith. They showed us some of the pictures and videos. It indeed did look very interesting, but we had no regrets. I learned last time on this trip, you just can’t do everything and you’ll burn yourself out trying. I was so happy to hear their stories of the visit in my dry clothes and equally happy they had a great time.

We arrived at the Tenimenti Andreucii Winery, a family that has been making wine here for the past three centuries. The property was in a beautiful location with a view, and thankfully, with the rain, they had a place for us inside to be seated and enjoy the meal.

After we all got settled in, Flavio and Lara, the owners of the winery began serving. Flavio started by telling us that they aren’t a restaurant but his ‘grandma’ was going to be making each course and it was all authentic food made from scratch. Also, let me say Flavio was hot, hot, hot. He had this beautiful way of speaking English with an Italian accent that sounded like poetry as he described the characteristics of each wine. All of the ladies around me were equally thinking, ‘Wow, that Flavio….’

This was almost the mid-point of the trip, and any thoughts that this was an exceptional group that had signed up for this trip all at the same time for this week in November were solidified at this lunch. What started out as more of a quiet affair turned into what seemed like a family reunion halfway through the tastings with everyone laughing and genuinely enjoying each others company. There are at least a three couples that are return visitors (not including me), and one couple who is returning for their 7th time and the wife just spent the last month in Italian language school in Montepulciano before meeting up with her husband here for Thanksgiving week.

As the different courses were presented, they were not ‘light’ in size and I wondered about 3 courses in, how we would all make it through to 7 courses. There were many things I tasted this day made by the grandma, that were so impressive, including incredible wine pairings. My favorites were the lasagna (WOW!), the sage tempura, and the truffle pasta. The wines were equally wonderful capped off by a $150 Gold Label wine they served to us in an enormous glass. I think we were all just as impressed with the glass as we were with the wine. We coudln’t get over how big it was and I love how once Vicki, on my left in the photo below, learned this bottle was $150 began asking others for their extras, who weren’t going to finish for the rest of their wine. Atta girl.

I kept wondering why after each course that they didn’t pick up our glasses. At the end I understood, the sea of glasses on the table with 20+ people drinking 7 tastings was quite a sight and made for an unforgettable photo opportunity. I would say this event lasted 3 hours and by the end we were all talking about vacationing together again and creating a FB group so that we could stay in touch. It is amazing how a little (or a lot) of wine makes you feel like best friends, and this is especially amplified because of the wonderful people on this trip. No – I know – we aren’t best friends, but it is so great to come into a trip with the big unknown factor of who else will be staying there that week and to be so wonderfully surprised.

When we got back to Cretaiole, I built another fire which was great to have with the rain outside and I blogged while Carla napped and caught up with her people. No one in the group was ready to eat again so they decided we should go upstairs to the big suite where about half of us decided to play games and everyone brought a little something to the spontaneous pot-luck. As they give you so much food when you arrive, I think we are all anxious to share it.

Carla went up before me as I needed to finish blogging and then she and a few of the girls came and got me an hour later to make sure I was coming. So I tore myself away from my couch and the fire to go upstairs and join the others in the game. It was the game ‘Heads Up’ where you play charades with your iPhone on your head and where everyone can see the word but you and they try to get you to guess the word or phrase. We had a lot of fun and laughed and laughed for the next hour and it was clear how much we felt like we were all supposed to be here together for this trip and this was the most natural thing in the world be up here like long-time friends having a pot-luck, and playing games in front of a fire with the rain outside. As we walked back downstairs that night, I marveled at the gift of this week and this time in Tuscany with these special people.

On this morning we needed to be at the Farm by 10:30am. So we had time to wake up (we sleep as long as possible), make two coffees and head out the door. We arrived at the farm on time and headed out back to begin the tour. I pulled around to the back of the property and saw the Patriarch, Luciano, and I waved. I figured he didn’t remember me, but perhaps he would later. It had been over a year and they take a group of guests through here weekly. He is in his mid-70’s.

Once everyone arrived it was Carlotta doing most of the talking and translation for Luciano and both of them were simply delightful. I appreciate how she makes cute jokes about Luciano that he may or may not understand and then will translate. At one point she said, ‘He is a Diva.’ Then when he wanted to know what she said she told him. ‘Primadonna.’ It is hilarious to hear these words that have almost become English, like primadonna – applied in their pure and native form.

Luciano, like he did when I was here a year ago, showed us the farm, only it was a little different tour as it was a different time of year. We were able to see sheep, chickens, rabbits, pigs and also the process around things he produces this time of year such as grappa and olive oil. To smell the fresh olive oil in the big stainless steel container was heaven. To see his contraption of how he makes his grappa (aka moonshine was hilarious.) Luciano is truly endearing and tells you what farm life was like when he was a boy and how it has changed over the years. He said Italy has been about 30 years behind the US in farming techniques ever since WWII. But something about that seems amazing, the attention to detail and the fact that they don’t produce things here for mass profit and scale but for quality and to have just enough to live.

I also really enjoyed seeing the farm animals again and to realize the mother pig I had seen last year was still alive. Last year she had several piglets she was nursing, and when I asked what her name was, Luciano said he doesn’t give the pigs names because they will be butchered. That made me sad because as much as I was enjoying the salami, I hated to think that future salami would come at the cost of this mother pig. Well, as it turns out, there I was with the mother who was now 5-years-old and had a name as he planned on not butchering her. Her name was ‘Carolina.’ Pronounced ‘Karoleena’ and that was music to my ears to know she was now a pet of sorts. I saw her babies that were now over a year old and full grown in the other pin. I’m not sure all of them had made it as I seemed to remember so many more piglets, but that’s okay, at least I was able to return to see beautiful, Carolina.

After the farm tour they led us upstairs for lunch and served us several courses of bread with olive oil, salad, several different meats and cheeses with jams, and then the finale, Luciano’s grappa and vin santo and a side of biscotti to dip. The alcohol is strong and like moonshine and I remember last time I didn’t really like it all that much. This year it must have been a better batch as I tasted it first by dipping my biscotti and thought, ‘hmmm, not bad, not bad at all!.’ It was such and enjoyable lunch and we enjoyed getting to know new folks from the group. Everyone on this trip is wonderful and it is great to meet so many people from different parts of the country who share a love of travel, wine, and Italy.

After lunch we walked over to Pienza so that I could show Carla a little more of the town. It was siesta time so all of the stores were closed and the streets were completely empty. It is so surreal to be visiting Italy this time of year and seeing everything so empty and not dealing with any of the crowds of summer. It is actually very nice and I’m enjoying looking at everyone’s winter fashion. As we moved around each corner, Carla would gasp, ‘What, this is unbelievable. I want to move here.’ I thought, ah, yes, she now is infected.

After we walked around Pienza we looked to find a store that was open and where we could find bottled water. It was not to be. So we started thinking, hmm, maybe we need to be drinking the sink water if it is this hard to find bottled water. We would need to ask if that is a safe thing to do.

We came back that afternoon and I built another fire and Carla napped while I blogged. It is amazing to be on another trip where there are these actual rest periods where I can rest and blog and not feel like I’m moving around from sun up to sun down.

The dinner this night was going to be at La Porta – a wine pairing dinner with Daria. I remembered Daria from last year. A classy ‘Helen Murran’ type that knows everything about wines and talks to you before each course to explain the wine and the production. On Sunday, Isabella had offered ‘Van shuttle service’ to this event and the event that would be happening the next day. This isn’t something they offered when I was here before, but it definitely felt like this was a good idea to have a driver home from wine tasting events. She said in the orientation, ‘Um, yes, let me just say, the wine ‘tasting’ pours are very GEN-ER-OUS’ as she smiled and winked at all of us in the special magnetic way that makes Isabella so successful in this business.

When it was time for pick up, we all piled in the van for a $15 Euro each charge. It seemed totally worth it. It had started raining on this night and I remembered parking and access to this restaurant involved a long walk up a hill. It would be great to be dropped off out front.

There were two tables set up for our group on the main floor of the restaurant. It basically took over the whole restaurant. The was one small table that sat behind us as a party of two and another group of 5 or 6 that seemed like uptight locals. Everytime our groups got a little wild with laughter and conversation. The man at the head of the other table with a grey Prince Valient bob hairdo would clink his glass like we were at a wedding and he wanted to hush the room.

What was mostly making us laugh and noise levels rise was the two accounts of ‘massages’ that happened in the cabana earlier in the day. Two of the ladies had signed up and had no idea what to expect. After a few glasses of wine, we got all of the details and with each new insight, the laughter level would rise.

Let me just say, I had met this ‘massuese’ on the grounds earlier in the day as I was picking up fire wood. He came walking towards me like an Italian dream. I didn’t know who he was and he introduced himself as Simon, the massuese. He had just finished a treatment and was taking linens to the laundry room. He insisted on helping me with my wood basket so I woulnd’t have to carry it. I thought in my head, ‘What? This is the massuese? There is no way I could relax for a massage with this guy.’

Well, as it turned out the stories these ladies told were hilarious and very different than the experience you might have in the U.S. where we have much more modesty involved in the process and certainly it doesn’t involve a bottle of extra virgin olive oil poured all over you and rubbed into your skin and into your hair. Debbie, from Seattle, said she felt like an upside down mop when she left dripping with oil and it took 3 rounds of shampoo and body wash to get all of the oil out of her hair. She and Vicki, an Army Warrant Officer, stationed in Germany had two very similar but different experiences, but they both said neither experience was relaxing but made them laugh as they felt like a butterball turkey getting oiled down for Thanksgiving.

Of course in the midst of all of this talk, we had Daria telling us about the wines they produce in this region and the tip to not buy a bottle of 2014 Brunello. It was not a good year for Brunello. We dined on several courses with wine that were all delicious and not too much food in each course, but collectively, wow, a lot of food. We all went home thinking, how can we do this all week? It is only Monday? But regardless, it was too soon to start worrying about that.

Our trusty driver was waiting for us when we were done and took us on about a 15 minute drive back to Cretaiole, where the topic of the massuese came up in the van again. I suspect that will be a joke the rest of the week as more details emerged. It was late when we got back so we started getting ready for bed and I finished uploading pics for the blog. It takes about 5 minutes per photo as the internet is so slow, so it truly is a labor of love. I was taking a shower, brushing teeth, getting washed up – all between uploads.

Then, miraculously, I wasn’t tired, nor was Carla. We stayed up until about 2am and at that point I texted Marta to let her know, ‘Hey, we won’t be getting up for the art and artisan tour in Pienza, but will meet the group for lunch.’ With that we were very happy at the thought of a morning off and really more time to digest all of this food. It had begun raining more steadily and would be raining in the morning so it seemed like a great morning to sleep in. Lights out.

Looking forward to the first full day on the farm, we both popped out of bed to get ready for the orientation. This is where Isabella has all of the guests come to a big gathering room and she gives you a little background and advice on the property and then goes over the itinerary for the week. She said the night before that she would understand if I wanted to skip it as I had been to orientation before, and I responded, ‘Are you kidding me? That was one of my favorite parts of the whole trip. I will be there.’ The pearls of wisdom she drops about life and especially life in this part of Tuscany linger in your mind long after you are home from your trip.

We all huddled in the room, that was a little chilly and there was sleek Isabella propped up on a table with her legs crossed and her arms outstretched already describing things with gestures. Things I learned during this orientation include:

1. To come visit Italy on a week like this is to experience only the sweet slice of life. Making your life here and becoming part of the fabric of the community is very different.
2. She is a big City girl from Milan who married into this family over 25 years ago and moved to this part of the Italy (Tuscany). Eventhough she is Italian, she still had to work to be accepted here and prove she was part of the fabric. Everytime she used to leave for Milan to go visit her friends for a weekend, the townspeople would say ‘Oh, there she goes again, she’s probably not coming back.’ Then she would come back after the weekend and the townspeople would say, ‘Oh, she came back.’
3. Many tourists come and think they will buy a villa and retire here and it will be their Italian dream, and it would most likely be their Italian nightmare to renovate an old villa. There is the sweet slice of life that is Italy, but it is also very different from the US with many other different customs and integrating into that life and knowing the language would be a must.
4. To fall in love with Italy is like falling in love with a person. You must love the whole person, the good and the bad. When have enough love you accept all of the person, faults and all. It’s like this way to love Italy.
5. Practical: Never bring a bottle of wine to a restaurant in Italy for them to open. They will be insulted. They will say why? We have our own wines.

She then went through the options for each day and you could sign up for any of the activities they had listed, they just had to know in advance so they could make arrangements. This was like an amazing dream wine camp for adults. A few folks were leaving mid week, or deciding to do other things like drive back into Florence for the day and Isabella would say, ‘Oh, too bad.’ As if to say, ‘Oh too bad for you.’ It was hilarious.

Last time I came with Dana, and we made the mistake of signing up for everything because the way Isabella described things had you believing it was the most amazing thing on the planet that you just couldn’t miss. Well, even on a trip like this you only have so much capacity. Halfway through, we started bailing on activities as we had no downtime. It was all too much and we had overbooked ourselves. This time I knew better, and I was careful about what Carla and I said yes to. Before we knew it, it was 2 hours later and the orientation was over. I actually didn’t want it to end as listening to Isabella pontificate about life and life in Italy is like reading a book on simplicity and you hope to absorb this into every fiber of your being so you carry it home and remember.

After orientation, we went back to our little studio apartment room and started cooking breakfast. The whole kitchen exists in a cabinet and it takes getting used to, but once you get the hang of it, you actually kind of miss it when you get home as you realize it is all you really need to get by for simple meals. We needed some help from Marta in figuring out how to turn the stove off, once we got it on and also Carlo needed to come in an show us how to work the little overhead light. He had helped us also the day before with a light in the bathroom. Each fix was simple, he just flipped a switch and would say, ‘These problems, I like, so easy to fix.’

After we were set up we made a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, salami, cheese, and toast with a side of espresso made in the Italian coffee pot. I remember making these breakfasts with Dana and coming home trying to recreate the same magic in my own house. Somehow once you get home, it isn’t the same – the fresh eggs from the chicken, the bread from the bakery, even the way the coffee tastes in the Italian coffee pot isn’t the same. The coffee pot is an award winning designed Moka pot in the 1930’s by Bialeti that still exists today. It reminds me of an old stove top percolator – like the kind my parents used to have in the 70’s. I’m here to tell you it does the trick to produce delicious, thick Italian espresso.

After we finished breakfast and did the dishes, we went to town to try to buy waters. The grocery closed at 12:30pm on Sunday so we had about 15 minutes to get there and get our purchases made. Unfortunately when we got there, it was closed. I guess it is closed for the week. Hmm. Okay, one of the lessons of Italy. They can just decide to close for the week. Maybe the family needs them. It’s okay, Italy, I love you anyway. We wandered around Pienza a bit to look for water and Carla wanted to go into this Lavendar store that looked way too lavender to me – I mean everything was lavender in there, but I have to admit, it did smell good. This interesting eclectic lady with disheveled hair did a good job of explaining the quality of their products to us, the organic motto of the company, as well as all of the benefits of lavendar. She just kept talking and talking though. I felt like backing up out of there slowly so we could be released from this conversation, but it was much harder than that to pull off – but finally we extracted ourselves. Phew. We found a pizza shop that would sell us 2 BIG liter waters and hoped that we could find an open store to buy more tomorrow. This was good enough for now.

When we got back to Cretaiole, it was time for our hike with Carlo. I had also done this hike before, but in the summer time when we had to meet at 6:30am, before it got too hot. This time we met at 2pm to make sure we hiked in the hottest part of the day. Even then, the temps were brisk and in the high 30’s. We all showed up bundled up and even on an intermediate hike where your heart gets pumping and you are moving, you never really get hot enough to take off your jacket. The most hot any of us got was deciding to unzip our jacket for a few minutes. Then the wind chill would come back and up went the zipper.

Regardless, this hike was totally worth it with the views, the opportunity to hear Carlo talk about the land and the property again. To show us how he had already planted the wheat for next year and on neighboring properties, where they had planted a little sooner, little green shoots were already poking out of the ground, looking Iike the beginning of a carpet of grass. He showed us where the truffle is on his property. Truffle is so expensive, he must check it every morning for any new growth or they may be some that come to steal the truffle. Truffles are grown underground and are quietly foraged with the help of well-trained dogs. Chefs and cooks are willing to pay $1,200 per pound for these mushrooms because of the intoxicating flavor that no other ingredients can match.

About half of the group went on the hike and it was fun to get to know a few of the folks. There are Americans on this trip from all over the country – Seattle, Nashville, Birmingham, Atlanta, Athens (GA), and even Palos Verdes. I haven’t met everyone yet, but by now, these are a few of the cities hitting the radar. Everyone is really nice and a lot of fun. They are all equally thrilled to be here and it feels like you are all in this together.

After the hike we had a just a few moments to go back to the room and freshen up before we headed out to a wine tasting at a winery that paints every label before it leaves their facility. They are small wine producer in the area, but still, that is a lot of bottles to paint. I pulled my knit stocking off of my head, wondering, could I really do anthing with this hair now to head to the winery? A few sprays of dry shampoo and a fluff seemed to do the trick. It didn’t seem like it would matter much anyway as it seemed too cold to not want to put that knit hat right back on when we went outside.

The winery was about a 30-minute drive and even with WAZE gps directions going on your phone, you are bound to make a few wrong turns as the decision point between turns is often a 3-4 pronged fork where you need to decide in a split second and if you choose wrong, it’s a while before you have time to turn around. I think out of 20 choices like that 2 times I missed, and 1 time I missed our cut-off because we were talking. All in all – we got there only 4 minutes later than we originally thought, so we did pretty good.

The tour of this winery was frigid and I mean frigid. I could barely focus on what the lady was saying. I was just thinking, ‘just give me wine, it is my only shot at warming up here.’ Still she walked us through the property, her dad’s art studio, the cellars, another art room, all before she finally led us back into the glass room with 365 degree views of the property. Only right now it was night time, with no views, and we huddled around the table with all but our teeth chattering. However, all was not lost. Soon the wine started pouring and we tasted one of their Rossos and two of their Brunello reserves. Along with a few little appetizers to complement the wine tasting.

We enjoyed talking to a couple from Birmingham (originally from Ohio), Tom and Lynette, who were here with their two grown daughters, Stephanie and Stacy. We laughed a lot with them and the more we sipped our wine, the more fun we had and the more the windows on this glass contraption were fogging up all around us. It was the same all along the table with about 16 of us there doing the tasting. At one point they bring out grappa, which is clear, and Lynette thinks it is water. She throws it back like water and her eyes get big and start to water as she tells us what she just did as she puts her hand on her chest and says, ‘Oh no, it is burning, I thought it was water.’ We all started laughing.

After the tasting, Carla and I had planned to go back to our room and eat a salad and heat up some leftovers from our dinner the night before. As we were walking out Stephanie leans over and says to me, ‘What can I do to talk you into coming to dinner with me and my parents? We have a reservation for 4, but we want you with us and we can change it to 6.’  I laughed, and thought well, hmmm, I don’t think that should be a problem. I ask Carla what she thinks, and she says, ‘Sure, why not.’ So we changed our plans and met them for dinner at a place on the way home.

It was great to get to know them some more over dinner and hear about all that they did for a living and to see the typical interactions between families with the looks of, ‘Mom, you are embarrassing me.’ As the mother would proudly talk about both of the accomplishments of her daughters in the most genuine way. The dad, with 3 talking women in his family, was super nice and mostly just sat back and smiled and allowed others to tell family stories that he was quite able to tell, but that they were jumping to tell. So he smiled and would say, ‘Please, you tell the story.’ He was so nice as was the whole family.

I was ready for a pasta break and so ordered their special Rib-Eye of the night. Oh my Lord, when they brought it out, we thought it was for the whole table as it literally could have fed the whole table. I love it how over here, if a little person like me orders something 10x bigger than what she is going to need, they don’t say a thing or advise differently. They just bring it. Carla was thinking she wanted a Chi-Chi’s style antipasto salad, so she ordered antipasto. Um, that’s different we learned when a platter of meat and cheeses was brought to her. Oh well! When in Tuscany….

After dinner on our walk back to the car, Carla and I started laughing about something that I can’t remember anymore. All I remember is we were bent over double and crossing our legs for fear of wetting ourselves as we both should have probably used the toilet before we left. We literally stood there for 2 minutes gasping for air and laughing and trying not to think about what was making us laugh so we could make it to the car. It was also freezing so we had more motivation. Finally, we got a hold of ourselves and were able to head towards the car.

The drive back to Cretaiole was only 10 minutes and we got back to the room. I took a shower and built another fire and blogged, while Carla texted her peeps. I think this is our new routine.

I gave Carla and I a half dose of Zquil the night before to make sure we slept through the night and to get us on the correct time zone as soon as possible. We went to bed at 11pm and set the alarm for 8am thinking that would be more than enough asleep. When the alarm went off at 8am I felt totally disoriented and sat there for a minute thinking about how long I could still lay there before I needed to get out of bed, when the room phone ringing totally jarred me awake.

The front desk man said, ‘Hello, the airline called and said they have your bags. I have them on the other line now and  I let them know that you have a late check out at 4pm and they can deliver the bags anytime before then.’ My mind immediately though, oh no, I said a 4pm check-out, but really we wanted to be on the road by 2pm with our rental car. I said, ‘Hi, actually, we need the bags by noon, we may be leaving earlier.’ He said, ‘Yes, of course, I will tell them now.’

With that wake-up, I jumped out of bed and started getting ready so that we could be down at breakfast no later than 8:45am. Pulling Carla out of her bed seemed harder than expected. Turns out, she was obsessed with the King Sized down pillows and didn’t want to leave them or her bed. I think the princess life was taking hold and gently reminded her that Florence adventure awaited us outside this hotel and we needed to be at the Accademia Museum by 9:45am for our 10:00am appointment. With that she laughed and reluctantly pulled herself away. Within 45 minutes we were both downstairs and in the beautful breakfast room overlooking their winter garden downstairs.

The spread was off the charts and you could easily get lost in the numerous choices along the length of the longest wall. I went for my old standby omelette and a few sausages with a cappucino. Carla was in heaven taking choices from several beautiful stations and savoring each bite and then going back for seconds before finishing with a piping hot crossaint. I looked at her and thought, should I tell her? That a trip to Italy is a marathon not a sprint? That you have to pace yourself with the food or you will burn out too soon in the trip and decide you can’t even look at another piece of bread or plate of pasta for several days. I watched her so gleeful and excited over this breakfast experience and just let her run wild and smiled inside letting her relish these moments. Hey, no one told me anything on my first few trips and it is better to just figure it out on your own with the innocence of one having their first awakening that a world like this exists. In those moments consequences of calories or the thought of over indulgence don’t seem to matter or exist. I have been there many, many times and still love to land there on occasion.

On our way out of the hotel we dropped off our keys and the bellman said, ‘Look your bags have arrived.’ And like a dream, the handsome bellman in dreamy St. Regis bellman attire came floating towards us towing our two bags. ‘May I bring these up to your room?’ “Yes, please.” Oh what a sight for sore eyes. When your bags have been lost, in the back of your brain you start mentally preparing yourself for the fact you may not see them again the rest of the trip and can you really switch back and forth between your travel outfit and the spare outfit for the week? Just when you are at the place, were you realize you can, your bags arrive and you are so grateful for the all of your ‘options’ returned to you in a moment.

We then headed over to the Accademia museum to see David. We had appointments so were able to walk right in. We had downloaded a 28-minute Rick Steve’s tour for the museum and popped in our iPhonrd to take in ‘just enough’ info about the museum and of course, the masterpiece of the statue, David, that Michelangelo carved from marble when he was 26 over the course of 2 years. This is the second time I have seen this astonishing piece of art and it once again took my breath away. You can’t help but to feel complete awe standing next to a work of art that seems impossible and is so a polished and complete displaying the artist’s portrayal of David as a shepherd boy about to slay the giant, Goliath with a smooth stone from his sling shot. Every detail is amazing from the veins in his arms, to his finger nail beds, to his furrowed brow that makes you think this is the moment he decides to take on Goliath.

Once we were done with the tour, we walked around Florence a bit to do some leather shopping. Many shops look very similar and carry the same items. We probably browsed through 6-8 stores and enjoyed the brisk walk that morning through the streets of Florence. It is so amazing to be here this time of year, with the toursit population down about 80% and seeing everyone in their winter jackets and coats. Such a contrast from when I was here last the summer before in July with the sweltering heat and every other person, licking on a dripping gelato. I was enjoying the contrast of this view and Carla was still in her this-feels-like-I-am-walking-around-a-movie-set mode. We walked the last leg along the Arno River and she was able to see the Ponte Vecchio on the way back to the hotel.

We needed to pick up the car by 12:30pm as the rental agency closed by 1pm, so we headed back to the hotel quickly to see our bags and hug them and for me to pull out of the safe the things I needed for the car rental – the passport, the international driver’s license, etc. Fantastically, the car rental place was also about a block and a half from where we were staying and it was only a 5 minute walk. We showed up to the counter where there was a sea of people who all had ‘numbers’ – like at the bakery – and were awaiting their turn. I thought, okay, we are in no hurry, we can wait. So we waited, and waited, and waited…and the three stations at the counter never seemed to move through people. at one point I asked Carla, ‘Are they buying cars or renting cars?’

I remembered in the past when I have rented from this location, I just go straight to the garage and get someone to help me there. I told Carla to wait as I headed that way and I would motion her over if I had success. Bingo. I headed there, and a woman immediately helped me. Not only that she said, “We would like to upgrade you into a Land Rover. It will feel more ‘prestigious’ for you.’ Wow, okay, ‘Sure, that would be great.’

While we waited for them to bring it around. We were watching the folks that had been at the counter for a ridiculous amount of time now trying to take possession of their cars. One was a father/son team picking up the car. The dad had on these weird jelly shoes with no socks. We just coudn’t figure these two out. It was so hard to not laugh as they went around and around their car no less than 10 times wishing to point out every scratch and blemish on what looked like a beat up grey mini-van. They had been the same team that had left and come back to the counter 3 times with their paperwork. We just couldn’t figure out why it seemed so hard for them and they kept lingering.

They finally pulled away and revealed these other two guys that were about 6’2”-ish each and had been at the counter also for 30 minutes. It was a sight to see them both crammed into what seemed like the smallest car you could legally drive on the road. It looked like these two huge guys were in a toy car and trying to make it go forward. The sight of this threw us into another fit of giggles and we couldn’t stop laughing. The Hertz car people wondered what was wrong with us and I’m sure then hurried up the delivery of our own car.  Within minutes our car pulled up and we happily piled in, got a few instructions and drove back to the hotel to pick up our bags.

Aldo, met us out front and said, ‘Oh yes, you are the two girls. I have been waiting for you. Just pull your car up right here and I can hold it for you for one hour with no charge.’ We were so happy to hear this as it would give us a chance to get back up to our rooms and get what we wanted out of our newly arrived luggage. And I thought, while we were at it, order some more coffee service for the road from Beatrice. Truly, staying just this one night at the St. Regis had been delightful and we felt refreshed and ready for our drive to the farm house in the Val D’Orcia of Tuscany.

Getting out of Florence was pretty easy and didn’t take long and the drive out there was beautiful. It was less than two hours before I was pulling back up that familiar gravel drive of Cretaiole (the name of the farm house I had stayed at the summer before with Dana). I was thrilled to be back on this land and literally wanted to be pinching myself that we would get to be there for the entire week.

They showed us to our room #7 El Pollo (as it used to be the chicken house on the farm). It was beautifully appointed and quaint with fresh farm products laid out on the kitchen table, meant to hold us over for a few days as we got settled. Other travelers were also arriving now in one of the 7 apartments they had on this site. We wondered who we would be meeting this week and were expectant of a great group.

After we unpacked the room, we headed out of our apartment door and there she was walking toward us, ‘Isabella.’ The sleek co-owner and mastermind behind this, the oldest agriturismo in Pienza. She is a City girl from Milan who had married into this family that owns the land. Isabella and her husband Carlo have built the tourist business they have today where they welcome guests almost year round on to this little slice of heaven. Since Dana and I had left the year before, we couldn’t stop thinking about this ultimate Italian couple almost to the point of where she felt like a star in my mind as she walked up towards us. I stopped short of asking her for an autograph. Ha, ha. Just kidding, but that is what it felt like maybe I should do. In an odd way, it felt like seeing a member of my long lost Italian family again.

Okay, moment was over and we headed to Pienza for dinner at the only place that would take a 6pm reservation. We wanted to get to bed early and get back to our room so we could light our fire and relax and I was ready to do some blogging. This dinner place had 6 tables max and there was one guy in there working the whole place. Somehow it works. I had been there the year before, so I knew it was good. We ordered a bottle of wine (cheaper than 2 glasses of wine), split a meat and cheese board an then had our entrees. Carla had lasagna and I had wild boar tagliatelle. Both were so good and we stayed, chatted, and laughed there for three hours. We couldn’t believe the time went so fast. We grew up together so we had so many stories to recall from our past that kept us engaged for hours. We were also enjoying watching the clientele walk in and out. We were the first 2 to arrive that night and the last 2 to leave. It was an amazing first night in Pienza.

We headed back to the farm house where I built a fire in our fire place and we both relaxed trying to get warm. The cottage felt a little chilled as the heat hadn’t totally kicked in yet and the temps outside were in the 30’s.  I blogged my first entry while Carla texted her peeps back home. When I was done, she read the blog back and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. It was so fun to recall just day one and we both were so excited for what was ahead.

Traveling internationally again so soon after my last trip had me wondering, oh gosh, had I overbooked myself? But thoughts of being in Italy again in whatever circumstance or season, made me think, yes it is all worth it. So I pushed through the last 2.5 weeks of getting caught up at home and at work and was ready to board that plane, arriving at the airport 2 hours before departure.

I caught up with Carla (who had gotten there earlier) past security and we had one last meal of burgers before we boarded the flight. We had booked duo seats on the upper deck. It was the next best thing as premium economy, only about $700 cheaper for each seat and still felt tucked away on the top smaller deck vs. being on the lower deck with a sea of economy seating.

They boarded us on time, but then we waited and waited and waited. Apparently the ‘ice machine’ on board was broken and they had to wait for ice to come to the plane. We were laughing picturing someone trying to make a 7-11 run and coming back with bags of ice to load on to the plane. It was all very odd to be held up one hour for ice, when the whole flight, we didn’t see one ice cube.

The first leg of the flight was to Paris and took 10 hours. About halfway through, I got up to stretch my legs and told myself ‘you can do this, only 5 more hours.’ We both tried to sleep – but really it is so hard to sleep upright in a seat that only tilts back 10 degrees. 2 hours before landing they served us food again and we were pretty much up from then on. Our biggest observation was a flight attendant serving our part of the plane. She was tall, very skinny in tight pants and a crop hair cut with sleek black hair. The memorable thing about her was her eyes, she looked continually wide-eyed or the look you might have if you had just stuck your finger in a light socket. She also had a ‘security’ badge on her uniform. We figured that was a good job for her as with her extra attention to vision, she wouldn’t miss a thing.

As we approached Paris airport, it was completely fogged in. And I mean completely. The kind of fog where you can’t see inches from your face. The French pilot, who always sounded completely bored when we spoke to us over the speaker, told us they would be landing with instrumentation technology only but that we would all need to shut off our phones, even the phones in airplane mode.

I had just purchased an iPhoneXs a few days before and actually didn’t know how to power down my phone. The old way didn’t work anymore. So I pressed the Siri button and said, ‘Siri, power down my phone.’ She responded really loud, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do that, I don’t know how.’ When she said that, I don’t know why, but we started laughing so hard. We coudn’t stop laughing. Maybe it was because I didn’t want anyone to know I was asking my phone how to power down my phone and the response was so loud or because we were half worried my lone phone staying on during the ‘instrumentation only’ landing would cause challenges for the pilot. Thankfully, all was well, and it was the softest and smoothest landing I could remember in a long time. For such a big bird, it is amazing how gently they can touch down.

We originally had a two hour layover in Paris, which was now down to just one hour and the plane literally taxi’d for 30 minutes after we landed before pulling into a gate. By the time we got to our gate, we had 30 minutes to get to our next flight, which seemed impossible and was impossible. The Paris airport is massive and passing through from one terminal to the other involved taking a train and running what felt like the length of 10 football fields.

We arrived huffing and puffing at our gate 5 minutes before scheduled take-off. Absolutely no time for bathroom breaks, coffees, or a leisurely stroll. They make you pass through an electronic security screening again and passport control. Thankfully, there were no summer crowds so that process went very quickly.

Once we arrived at our gate, there were many other out of breath travelers that had come from our connection. The guy checking our ticket said – don’t worry, you have time. I asked about our luggage, was there any chance, if we had to run here to this terminal, that our luggage would make it. He looked at his iPad and checked a few things and said, oh yes, no problem, your luggage will make it, with the most confident assurance. He said, this flight will be delayed also because of the fog, your luggage will make ti. With those words we boarded the flight,

This plane was a smaller plane, like a Southwest airplane with 3 and 3 seats on each side and an aisle in between. I had booked us an aisle and window seat hoping no one booked the middle seat. This has worked for me in the past. However, it was NOT to be on this flight. As we headed down the row, Carla was first to see the gentlemen in our middle seat. Gina, my friend how works for Southwest tells me that they call these travelers ‘COS’ fliers. Customers of Size. Oh boy. This guy was no less than 300 pounds with about 250 of it in his stomach. He had a big ol’ grin and Carla just looked at me wondering, oh boy, what do we do? We couldn’t picture ourselves on either side of this mountain.

I get up there and say with a smile ‘Hi, how about you move to the window? I wanted him to wedge himself as far against that window as possible so we woundn’t feel to cramped . I was the smaller of Carla and me and took the middle seat. Still, he was half in my seat and was ‘man-spreading’ that is where a man spreads his legs when seated as broadly as possible so his legs were also halfway in my row This flight was only going to be less than two hours and I thought, okay, I can be gracious and do this.

He immediately wanted to jump into conversation with me and I was thinking, oh gosh, please no, I haven’t slept all night, I can’t be squished AND chat with you for the next 2 hours. He was from Mississippi and here with his family, who were scattered through the plane. His granddaughter was even right behind us, I was wondering, why didn’t they sit with him, then realized from my cramped posture why they picked other rows.

Thankfully, I popped my headphones in to listen to music and so he would quit talking to me asking me questions like ‘What mountain range are we flyin over?’ I was thinking, ‘Huh? I am American like you, I have no idea.’ But then responded, without really being sure but somewhat sure, taking out my ear buds and said, ‘Those are the Swiss Alps,’ then slipped them back into my ears so he would quit trying to engage with me. I was too tired.  I couldn’t even look at Carla because, every time we made eye contact we would start laughing without saying a word, and they guy would look at me wondering what we were laughing at, and I would say, ‘I am so sorry, we are tired, and we have the giggles. You know how girls are, and he would nod as if to say, ah, yes.

We finally landed in Florence, thrilled to be there and headed out of the back of the plane. We had to exit the steps of the plane vs. a jet-bridge. I helped an old Italian woman with her luggage. She was the same woman that thought Carla was Italian when we boarded and was speaking to her in Italian telling her she could move her jacket to put her backpack in the overhead. Carla didn’t understand her at the time and a man that spoke Italian and English said, ‘She thinks you are Italian,’ and he translated what she was saying to Carla. This was also part of the raucous when we boarded, that made us have the giggles as we flew to Florence.

We got to baggage claim and waited for our bags expectantly. You alway wonder when you fly, especially theses long distances, will my bags make it? And with our tight connection, we were a little worried, but not too worried because of the gate agent who had assured us we would be fine. So we waited, and waited, and waited….and our baggage never arrived. It was us and all of the folks that had our tight connection at the lost and found.

After filling out several rounds of paperwork they said our luggage was still in Paris and they would deliver it some time the next day. Thank goodness we both had packed our PJs, and extra pair of clothes, and all of our toiletries and make-up in our carry-on. We would be fine for one night at least and hoped they would in fact deliver our bags the next morning before noon.

We went out and found the taxi-stand and took a taxi to the St. Regis. I had booked this hotel on very little points through my Marriott Rewards program which had just merged with other hotel brands. Our taxi-driver charged us $22 Euro to drive us to the hotel and I promise you could not stop yawning. At one point I said, ‘Hmm, someone is tired!’ He just laughed.

When we arrived a the St. Regis, it was literally like a palace. I had no idea it would be this nice. They sat us down at a desk where the manager took us through everything. He let us know they had upgraded us to a 2 bedroom/2 bath suite (oh the joys of traveling off-season), and that we had been assigned a personal butler named, Beatrice. We were thinking, ‘What? This all feels like a dream!’

They took us to our suite and we literally felt like Queen Elizabeth in this room. Our butler said she would be brining us up cappuccinos and waters on a silver tray and reminded us that we could have anything pressed we liked. We kind of laughed as we had no luggage. We asked for her to make us a reservation at one of my favorite restaurants Trattoria Gobbi 13. Amazingly it was literally only 1.5 blocks from where we were staying. We wanted a 6pm reservation, but she said in her broken English, ‘In Italy, the earliest we consider to have dinner is 7:30pm.’ I said, ‘Oh of course, 7:30pm will be fine.’

So after drinking our coffees and unpacking what we could we headed down there around 7:25pm. They seated us in the restaurant between two really stiff tables of two that felt like we were dining with them but not welcome. The 2 on our right were 2 stone-faced Japanese girls who acted annoyed when we sat down and proceeded to speak in the loudest Japanese on record. The two on our left were to tight-lipped old American men who also gave us the stink eye. I tried to look at Carla and convince her, ‘Really, this is a fun place.”

The restaurant filled up quickly and soon the people next us us didn’t matter as the noise levels in the restaurant rose. And really after a glass of wine, you don’t care who is on your right or left, you just remember you are in Italy and the food in front of you is amazing on every level and you keep pinching yourself that you are here.

After dinner, I told her we should walk a bit as I wanted her to go see the Duomo lit up at night and she wanted to try her first gelato. So we walked 15 minutes to Duomo along the narrow cobblestone streets and Carla kept saying, ‘I feel like I am on a movie set, this doesn’t seem real.’ Then she had a chocolate gelato and I’m pretty sure her eyes rolled back into her head, as she couldn’t believe what she was tasting. I felt like I was showing a child Disneyland for the first time and it was pretty wonderful to experience Carla’s glee. I wasn’t even having gelato, but felt like I was on this night.

We went back to the room, enjoyed hot showers in our own Queen bathroom and our fresh PJs and again kept saying, ‘Wow, we feel like queens, hopefully our luggage shows up in the morning!’ With that, we headed off to well deserved sleep in our Royal beds.

I set my alarm for 7:30am, 2 hours before we had to leave the hotel at 9:30am for our 1pm flight from Hong Kong to LAX. Two hours gave me enough time to shower, get ready and somehow wind everything back into my luggage. I have been using ‘packing cubes’ for a few years now and really appreciate how it helps to keep you organized and the moving from hotel-to-hotel, easy. It also helps you quickly get organized for your final pack for your trip home, especially if you have been good about NOT pulling everything out of your cubes and only using what you need.

We were all ready and left the room by 9:30am and walked to the hotel taxi stand downstairs with our luggage. We would be taking a short ride to the Airport Express train. The same train we took into the City when we arrived. Only this time, they have airport counters there, and they actually check your bags before you step onto the 24-minute train to the airport. The next time you will see your bags is when you land at your final destination. It is a marvel in how they do this and you kind of wonder, will I really see my bags again? But, as with everything in Hong Kong, it all feels so very organized and it was nice to not have to deal with our bags on the train.

On the train ride, there was a little family across the aisle from us. The boy was about 3 years old and his father was talking to him so very patiently and kindly. Amy said to me, ‘Listen, I think that man is speaking Italian to his son.’ I perked my ears up and sure enough, as I listened it sounded like beautiful music to me. After listening to Cantonese all week, oddly, hearing Italian felt like my mother tongue and I don’t even speak Italian or have a drop of Italian blood in me. What is the matter with me? I’m in love with Italy, that’s what. I can travel the world and appreciate so many other cultures, but my heart belongs to Italy…still.

Once we got to the airport, getting through security was quick and efficient and we had some time to grab a nice meal before we boarded the plane. We decided on hamburgers, again. It was a consistent choice that we could count on because the make really good hamburgers in Hong Kong. So I had a coffee and a hamburger, looked out at the planes on the Tarmac and listened to the Dodger game. This was game 3, the Dodgers were down 2-0 in the World Series and this was their first game back at Dodger Stadium. It was super important that they win this game. Amy understood and encouraged me to listen to the game and she’d ask me for updates every now and then.

We boarded the plane, and I was continuing to listen to the game even as we were taxi’ing to the runway for takeoff. It didn’t look good, it was the 13th inning and the Red Sox had just scored the go-ahead run to make it 2-1 and now the bases were loaded. This was such a clutch team, I shut it off at that point as I couldn’t bear to hear the game getting blown wide open right before take-off. I just didn’t want to fly home with my last memory being how they scored a bunch of runs and pounded our relief pitchers (again). I resigned myself to accepting the Dodgers were probably going to lose game 3 at home. Sniff sniff.

Our flight home was only 12 hours vs. 15 hours when we traveled from LAX to Hong Kong. Headed East you pick up a tailwind that really makes a difference. We were relieved to not have that extra three hours as the 15 hour flight going over there felt so long. We watched movies, I blogged, slept, and we ate meals when they were offered as it gives you something to do. After some time, we heard the announcement that you get so excited to hear – when the pilot announces that you are within range of the airport and you have started to descend so get prepared for landing. It’s music to your ears.

When they made the announcement that we were starting our descent, all windows shades were opened, and I peaked out of the window. I saw the mountains of Southern California. It actually thrilled my heart and I felt so comforted to see home and to realize we would be landing in moments. It is wonderful to travel the world, but even more wonderful to come home again and appreciate every thing that feels so familiar.

Once we landed at 10:30am, I turned on my phone and braced myself to check the score of the final outcome of the Dodger game. Wait, what’s this? I couldn’t believe my eyes as I was reading the series was not 3-0, it was actually 2-1 as the Dodgers had actually WON that game in 18 innings. I had a spark of hope that just maybe they could pull off a World Series win against the best team in baseball. I was ecstatic in my seat and was sharing with Amy that they had won, we both were in disbelief. Thank you Dodgers! What wonderful welcome home news.

Getting processed through customs and grabbing our luggage took us less than one hour. We both signed up for GOES (Global Online Enrollment System) a few years back and it is money well spent. You basically don’t wait in any line when you get home. It’s like a fast pass for International travel and after the long journey home, it is wonderful to just be able to pass all of the lines quickly and exit the airport. If you even only travel internationally 1x per year, it is worth signing up for GOES.

I had ordered my favorite Wingz (airport pick-up service) driver, Aaron, to pick us up. He was faithfully there on time and had even texted me the night before asking for my flight information to make sure he could track it and be there on time for us. He really is wonderful, if you are in the LA area and you need airport service to LAX, he is a great resource to have. Because it is the rare friend that will actually drive you or pick you up from LAX, so it is nice to have back-up plans. By the way, THANK YOU to the many friends and family members that have taken me to LAX or picked me up over the years, you know who you are. I appreciate you.

Amy had stored her car at my house before we left so it could be garaged while we were away. So, Aaron took us both back to my house. Once we got there, it was around 12:30pm and we needed to keep ourselves up until the evening to get our sleep back on track. We decided on lunch at Hanna’s and then we both needed groceries so we went over to Trader Joe’s and both picked up groceries. We were back at my house by 2:30pm -impressed that we had gotten so much accomplished since landing at LAX at 10:30am, only 4 hours ago.

We said our goodbyes once we got back to the house. Game 4 of the Dodger game was starting at 5pm, and I was hoping that would keep me up. So I unpacked, showered, went through mail, put on PJs and flipped on the game. My eyes were so heavy, but this was my first opportunity to really watch any game in the championship on my bigger TV, so I was committed to staying up. And I did, the adrenaline really started pumping when they went ahead 4-0 and our pitcher had a 1-hit shut-out going through 6 innings. I was dreaming about the series being tied 2-2 at this point. It was not to be. Sadly, the Dodger manager made some very poor decisions and took out our pitcher in the 7th, when he only allowed one walk and then the Red Sox went on to when that game 9-5 as their bats woke up and they made our relief pitchers look like high schoolers. Ugh.

I hit the pillow at 9:15pm, and I’m pretty sure I was asleep within a minute and would stay that way for the next 10 hours. When I checked in with Amy the next day, she had slept 20 hours. What? I think that is some kind of record. We both were very grateful for this trip and coming home safe and healthy and having the opportunity to experience Southeast Asia.

With getting back to the hotel at midnight the night before, we didn’t end up going lights out until 1:30am, so we slept in a bit this morning and the girls knew we would just plan on meeting them later, but we didn’t really have a specific agenda for Friday. Their plan was to get up and go do a hike on Lamma Island (known for great hikes and pretty beaches) in the morning before it got hot, as they are early risers, this seemed like a good plan.

I heard from Shelly around 9:30am with a text. She was showing me pictures of what it was like on the MTR at rush hour. I texted her back after I saw the pictures, ‘This is every nightmare of Asia, I always imagined.’ Up until this point, I hadn’t really experienced crushing crowds. I mean, sure, traveling around the MTR stations did feel a bit like spawning up stream with the other salmon all going the same direction. You needed to keep pace, know where you were going and step out of the way, if you were unsure. The efficiency of this process only works if folks are all minding the unexpressed rules of getting around. Once, I saw an elderly woman fall in the midst of the chaos, and it was nice to see that everything froze in that moment and  every commuter around her stopped to help and make sure she was okay. I loved watching how they take care of their elderly so well. Not just in this situation but in many others I observed.

Shelly and Amy T had ended up meeting up with Amy T’s friend, Ashley,  in the morning and then headed over to Lamma Island. Amy T texted us around 11am to give us an update on what they were doing and options for the afternoon. She said her friend, Ashley, suggested there is an opportunity to rent bikes on the Island and bike from one end of the island to the other end of the island, along different paths.

Conceptually, this sounded like a great idea and we were both trying to figure out if we were up for a train ride to an Island, then bike rides, then coming back and getting ready for another dinner SoHo (we wanted to take the girls out this night as a thank you for all their excellent tour guide offerings this week).

Amy T and Shelly still hadn’t got to the Island and were going to do a hike before bike rides. We still had time to decide what we wanted to do and what we might feel like doing once we got going. About an hour later they texted and the said they had just got to the trailhead and were staring their hike. We were still in our beds just lounging and looking at our phones, reading etc. No Dodger game today so I had the morning off. Ha, ha. But it felt luxurious not to push ourselves to have to be anywhere. Sometimes you just need a morning off and no plan.

About an hour later Shelly texted us and said, ‘It’s a fishing village and no “cars” allowed. It’s really cool to see, but may not be worth your travel to get here in the sense that it would take us an hour from where we were at to get to the place to take the ferry, and the ferry schedule isn’t as regular as the train schedule, we’d have to align the arrival train time with the departing ferry time, etc.’ Bottom line, she communicated, if we were tired and would rather just stay on Hong Kong Island, they understood, but if we were up for adventure come. She helped us really confirm a no with ‘Also, this trip would involve a lot of seat and DEET bug spray. Still a really cool hike.’

We were very appreciative of the updates and understanding the reality of the energy required and effort involved to get to that island and what we might see and experience once we arrived. It was the last day of our trip before we traveled home, and Amy B and I were good with a rest day at a coffee shop so I could blog and she could read and then enjoy a nice dinner with the girls. That sounded like a perfect plan so I found a coffee shop in SoHo that seemed really easy to find and about .2 miles from the Metro stop.

By now it was about 2pm, and we hadn’t had anything to eat yet. And I hadn’t had coffee. So we were hoping this coffee shop, that looked like it had nice ambiance to hang out in and a great menu, would be easy to find. Not so much. We walked around a good 1/2 hour trying to find it, and Google Maps doesn’t always work so great in foreign countries in helping you find a place when you are trying to walk around. Your little ‘dot’ avatar on the map keeps jumping around, even if you aren’t moving. It is maddening. I get on my phone and go on the website for the coffee chain and look up the store again to confirm the address and then I see it ‘We’ve moved! Opening soon in a new location.’ Ugh The perils of finding a place to go on Yelp and not actually going to the official website.

I did have a back-up coffee shop and Amy says, ‘Let’s just find a Taxi to take us there, I’m getting very hungry and it is so hot.’ I say okay and we start looking for a Taxi, every one that goes by us is full and we saw about 20 taxis. She asked me if I knew where the Metro station was from where we were and I start looking at my phone to find out. Then she taps my shoulder, and – what do you know – it was right in front of us. We decided to get on the Metro and go one stop back, where the other coffee shop was going to be and test our skills in finding that place without Amy T. To this point, we hadn’t really been paying attention to details at all because Amy T had it covered and led us around. We just enjoyed the sights and following her lead. Now that we were figuring it out, it took much more focus.

We ended up back at the Central stop and pretty easily found the coffee shop we were looking for. It was very close to where we were the night before at dinner, so it didn’t seem hard at all to find it. Once inside, it definitely had a very modern industrial look to it with tiny tiny tables. So tiny, we pushed two together to try to make one table. Amy says, ‘hmm, I don’ t think you’ll be doing much blogging here.’

They did serve LEGIT cappuccinos, and when Amy tried to order her tea iced, the limited English speaking guy helping us said, no they don’t serve tea iced. She said okay, well, can I have a glass full of ice with my hot tea, he said, ‘No.’ She asked again, explaining with gestures, to make sure he understood. His eyes lit up, ‘Yes, we can do that.’ Problem solved. She also was asking him if the tea was decaffeinated, he looked at her confused and she asked to see the bag of tea leaves and she was able to confirm, yes, no caffeine.

We ordered some breakfast items and coffee and tea and took a seat to decide what we were going to do. Amy brought some reading and before I started blogging, I wanted to get a few cards written out that I had bought earlier in the week and also had stamps for. As we were leaving the following day, today was my last chance to get it done. As it turned out, it took a while to write the cards, so I never did get to blogging.

We spent about an hour there enjoying every taste of what we were served. They really did a great job with their menu items. It was also fun to people watch and see the hipster Hong Kongers popping in here on a Friday afternoon for a chat and a cup of coffee. It is so enjoyable to experience the coffee culture around the world and to see it really is pretty similar, no matter where you go.

Around 4:30pm we left the coffee shop and decided to walk to the place we were going to meet Shelly and Amy T for dinner. It was another Will recommendation, Yardbird. He said before he went to Hong Kong and was asking people not miss places to eat, this was another name that kept coming up with every person he talked to, Yardbird. I looked at Trip Advisor and they advised, since they don’t take reservations, if you don’t want a 90-minute wait, get there 30 minutes before when they open at 6:00pm and you won’t have a wait. We agreed to get there early to wait in line and have the girls meet us a 6pm.

We enjoyed the walk over to the restaurant and taking in our final afternoon in Hong Kong. We felt rested and ready for our long journey home on Saturday. On the way, we stopped in to Starbucks and picked up collector coffee mugs that said Hong Kong. It’s a thing now, I have Starbucks coffee mugs from Rio de Janeiro, France, Canada, India, and now Hong Kong. Some people collect shot glasses or t-shirts, me, I collect these international coffee mugs – as does Amy B. They go for a nice resale price on eBay. I saw the Rio one priced at $60 recently.

We arrived at the restaurant at 5:15pm, and decided to just be early. They had little chairs for you to sit on as you waited in line. In reality, people didn’t show to start getting in line until about 5:50pm and when they opened we were first in line. About 5:55pm, we heard from the girls who said their taxi still hadn’t arrived, the one they had ordered for a 5:40pm pick up. Apparently there was a taxi shortage this evening so they were having challenges. We tried to get a table without them at 6pm and the hostess was firm that we had to have our full party there before they could seat us. We really couldn’t do much about that or the fact that the girls were having a challenge getting there, They invited us to wait up at their bar and order some drinks. We enjoyed our time interacting with the bartenders and other staff members and it didn’t seem like too long at all before the girls arrived, looking lovely in two dresses.

They still had a nice booth for us that they were trying to hold and we were quickly attended to once we were seated, explaining the restaurant, and the share plate style of service. Yardbird is a chicken place that serves all parts of the chicken – and when I say all parts I mean all parts as the picture of the menu below shows. They also have some killer side dishes that were recommended on TripAdvisor as well as by our server. We decided to let our server just decide what to bring us – giving us a good sampling of their top menu items, but no weird stuff – like gizzards, etc.

Diners are encouraged to order small plates to be split across the table. Canadian head chef Matt Abergel takes a beak-to-tail approach in the kitchen, skewering every part of the chicken to make his yakitori, from neck and heart to knee and tail. Yakitori is a Japanese type of skewered chicken. Its preparation involves skewering the meat and grilling over a charcoal fire. During or after cooking, the meat is typically seasoned with tare sauce or salt. Chicken aside, there were plenty of punchy flavors in the other dishes we tried such as the KFC (Korean fried cauliflower) and sweet corn tempura they served in a little ball. Shelly and I were trying to figure out how they prepared this keeping the corn together as it was fried but not overcooking it? Amy T said, ‘this is like a corn pomegranate.’ So true!

They also had great cocktails and an extensive sake list. With hip young staff and loud music and it’s no surprise that Yardbird has been a smash hit with Hong Kong’s in-crowd. Apparently, people are willing to wait in line for hours to get a table at the no-reservations restaurant, which has a cool urban interior design, floor-to-ceiling windows, old-school wooden bar stools and sleek black table-tops.

This was a perfect ending to our week in Hong Kong and we all really enjoyed the experience at this hot spot. Preeti, a women that worked there that Amy and I had befriended when we were waiting for our table, realized we were leaving. She said, ‘No, please come to the bar, I want to buy you all drinks.’ She seemed like manager or something, so we headed over that way. Amy T and Shelly were pretty tired by now with their early start and full day of hiking and exploring, they decided to pass on the nightcap and headed back to their hotel in a taxi. We said our goodbyes there as we wouldn’t see them again until we got back to the U.S.A. They had an earlier flight than we did and were heading to Japan in the morning where they had 2 more nights of their trip left there.

Preeti then called Amy and I over and the nightcap turned out to be a huge shot of sake with several bartenders and Preeti gathered around. Apparently it was her birthday and she wanted to celebrate by sharing a shot with us, and I’m sure many other customers that she had picked out that evening. It was a great shot of premium sake and it was the perfect night cap.

When we were done, I asked Amy B if she wanted to head back over to Quinary for one more look at that scene with the talented bartenders. I felt like that one bartender was expecting to see me so he could make me another special drink. We pondered for about 2 minutes and decided, we were good. We were full, had just had a nightcap and probably heading back to get started on packing, etc. and wrap things up before our journey home tomorrow was the course of wisdom.