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First morning in my little farm apartment and I was so looking forward to making a coffee in the Moka pot and just enjoying some toast with fresh jams. So that’s exactly what I did before we headed off at 9:30am to drive over to La Moscadella (Isabella’s property), where she would take us on a loop hike in the hills around the property.

On previous trips, we always have an ‘orientation’ with Isabella that never fails to be informative and different every time. She has such a rich understanding of the local area and Italian culture. This time with her never disappoints as she does her best to prepare you for the week ahead and to take advantage of your time in the area.

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Being the first official activity, everyone was on board and showed up for the hike and talk with Isabella. The weather (forecasted rainy all week) turned out to be so beautiful on this day. Isabella explained to us, as we walked through olive groves, that during the beginning of the pandemic – this is what she did almost every day (as they really weren’t even supposed to leave their houses). But, she could show she was a local and would take her papers with her and say she was checking on her olive groves if any authorities questioned her. What a time to live through, to have to prove you could walk around your property in the fresh air. Also interesting to note, as we walked through a neighboring property of the farmers who have lived and farmed there for generations. She said, NOTHING changed for them during the pandemic. They lived as they had always lived, then and now. They are farmers that just farm olive oil and live off of the production of their own property, with little connection to the outside world.

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I had stayed at this property a few years ago for 2 weeks with Dana in the summer of 2019. We had taken this same hike almost early every morning or at dusk. It is so hot in July here, those are really the only times of day that are bearable. Even with having done this same hike so many times, it felt new to me now, in a different season and I learned so many new things just based on the commentary Isabella was providing. She is such a deep thinker and her explanations come from, what feels like the deepest part of her intellect and heart. What she is saying instantly matters to you, because it matters to her. We took this hilly walk at a nice pace and waited for anyone that needed more time. Near the end, as we were running out of time, she asked me to lead the group that was ready to go back to La Moscadella for aperitivos (appetizers). She would stay back and bring those that needed more time.

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When we arrived back at La Moscadella, such an incredible display of little ‘light’ appetizers and complementary wines and champagnes were before us. Roy Stowe, who was with us 3 years ago, and couldn’t make it this year – hosted us to this wonderful after-hike tasting. His deposit was going to expire so he asked that it be put towards this experience for the group. It wasn’t even quite noon yet, and next up we had a wine tasting and lunch, but we were all down for this little morning ‘brunch’ before we headed out again. We literally had to be pushed out the door as we were running at least an hour behind as it was just sitting in the sun and enjoying the moments of our first full day together.

We quickly gathered ourselves and caravanned over (in our hiking clothes) to Santa Giulia winery in Montalcino. It was great to not have to get dressed up or change clothes. After a tour of their wine making process, out came the ‘light lunch’ of meats, cheeses, salads, bruschetta, wine tasting, and finished off with Vin Santo and biscotti. I knew this would be coming, so I had a light touch here and at the first event after the hike. You learn after your first trip here, you need to pace yourself, because so much food and drink will be coming at you with every experience, you can burn out early in the week. We just don’t eat and drink at this pace at home, but at the same time, it is so hard to resist once you get here because it all tastes so good and you don’t want to miss out on a thing.

We also had a wine pairing dinner this same night at Daria’s restaurant in Monticchiello. So seriously, it was good we hiked this morning and had some time to go back after the late lunch in order to rest, shower and change for dinner. We all departed around 7:30pm to drive to Daria’s. Every activity – it seems – is about 20-30 minutes away. It could only be about 8 miles, but on the country roads, it takes a bit of time to get there. Also, we were cautioned on the first day, it is hunting season – so go really slow, slow, slow and then slower as you never know what could jump out in front of you. That’s all this granny driver needed to hear to ratchet it down even a few more notches with my speed. This whole week, I was never in a hurry to go anywhere and it worked well for me.

Dinner at Daria’s was just as expected. She always has a great wine pairing dinner that has just the right sized portions and compliment the wine well. It is sad that this year, Daria, wasn’t able to be here personally to explain the wines and the pairings personally. I have seen her do this several times and always learn something new. She’s a classy older Italian woman who has built this business and finally owns her own restaurant. I was so saddened to learn this year that she has advanced lung cancer and it doesn’t look good for her to survive. She has been battling it this last year, but it continues to spread and take a toll on her. I was hoping I would get to see her this night because I had a feeling this would probably be my last opportunity: I hope that is not the case.

One of the highlights of this night was that Carlotta and Marta joined us. They are two former employees of Isabella’s who really were a big part of what made your stay so personalized throughout the week at the farm. They went above and beyond (24 x 7) to attend to your every need and question. They were truly part of the fabric that made this experience so rich. In the pandemic, so many things changed all around with life circumstances, no work, etc. Many had to shift with jobs and schedules and life circumstances changed with aging parents, etc. Part of that outcome is – these two gems are not working for Isabella anymore. It is unthinkable to me. I keep trying to brainstorm, how I can get them back there? But, for now – just to see them on this night – with us again – made it feel just like old times and previous visits to the farm.

Carlotta sat across from me and I told her about my parking ticket in Fiesole. The paper was all in Italian, I had no idea how to pay it. She said, ‘Give me that ticket.’ She walked away, came back. Then she got on her phone and paid it for me through an Italian app. She said by paying it within 5 days you get 30% off. So that was great news. I paid Carlotta cash, and felt relieved that was taken care of for me. Another reminder for me, that it is incredibly helpful when you visit a foreign country, to have these types of contacts and people that will take such good care of you. It helps relieve the stress of the every day activities, you really aren’t able to manage on your own, like paying a parking ticket on an Italian app.

I was the driver for my little carpool of Heidi and Jeff, so I was truly mindful all week of how much I was drinking. It was their first trip to Italy, and the honeymoon they didn’t get to have a year ago, so I was enjoying watching them indulge. Also, I was super grateful that they were with me as Carla couldn’t come. Something about my struggles in my first week in Fiesole with the car situation, and wanting someone there for you, made me appreciate their company even more. They are both so good natured it was easy to be with them for a week. I really haven’t been around Heidi in 20 years, but grew up with her – so there is something so familiar about her to me. Something long ago from my past. My childhood best friend’s little sister – who always wanted to play with us – or was trying to listen to us and possibly tattle if we didn’t let her join in on what we were doing. Back then, we continually put her through initiations to join made up clubs and she would give it her ALL to join and we would still sometimes reject the application, unless she made a scene, then we would let her join. ‘Don’t cry, okay, it’s fine, you can join.’

On this night, we walked back to the car and laughed all the way down the hill. Jeff kept saying he ‘had to go.’ So we said, “Well then ‘go’ – we’ll wait.” And off he ran to the bushes and went while Heidi and I waited in the car and laughed. Once he was done, he ran back to the car, ‘Ah, so much better.’ Both Heidi and I looked at each other probably thinking the same thing, ‘Gee, men have it so easy in these situations.’ We made it home by 11pm – a very full and satisfying first day!

After the COVID test, I drove back to Silvia at the agriturismo, had a light breakfast, checked out and headed to Florence to pick up Jeff and Heidi. The thought of traveling into the center of Florence on a sunny Saturday (more crowds) wasn’t my favorite thought, but I was excited to meet up with Heidi and Jeff and get on our way back to the farm for the reunion.

Despite the fact their hotel was down a skinny ally of a ‘street’ with cars parked up on one side. They were waiting out front with their oversized luggage and like a clown car, we worked efficiently to get it all packed in and all of us buckled up just in time for a car to come barreling up the street. With that we were on our way.

We chatted the entire 1:45 minute drive out to the farm, and the further we got away from Florence and onto the highway and country roads, I could feel my driving anxiety start to lift. We soon pulled into the familiar gravel driveway of Cretaiole (the farm name) – which means clay garden. The earth around this part of Italy is dense like clay and the area around the farm looks like a garden.

We were the first to arrive and Fernanda – the new person that works with the family – was there to collect our passports and show us to our rooms. I have and upstairs 2 bedroom unit with a kitchen and fireplace. It has beautiful views and so much room. This is my fourth trip to the farm and it is the largest space I’ve had to doubt. Without Carla in the second bedroom, the place seems oversized for me, but I am so happy with all the room and still a little bummed that Carla couldn’t be here to experience it with me, with all of us.

We all get settled in our rooms and then greeted different couples and families as they arrived at our reunion place. It was so nice to see them again after 3 years. We all gathered that evening for wine, appetizers while we waited for the welcome dinner hosted by the farm family. They said it would be a simple dinner – but it was far from simple and cooked by the grandma of the family Lilliana.

We had amazing garlic toast with olive oil – I could still taste the garlic in my mouth the next morning (yes I brushed my teeth that night). We had Ribollita – which is a famous Tuscan bread soup, mostly consisting of cannelloni beans, kale, cabbage, other seasonal autumn vegetables and leftover bread – in the soup. It had so many layers of home cooked flavor and it was chilly outside. A perfect choice for this nice with red wine. They also served a combination of beans and sausage and then grandpa Luciano came with the fresh made biscotti to dip in the Vinsanto. A perfect meal and gathering for our first night back at the farm. We all staggered back to our room full, a little tipsy and oh so happy to be back here again.

Lucky me! I now get to test every two days for COVID to get a renewal on my Green Pass. This gives me permission to go into restaurants and museums, etc. Carlotta, and old friend from the farm, helped me to figure out that I could drive to the Fiesole pharmacy in the morning and get tested when they open at 9am. Side note – it is so important to be supported by a local or someone that can help you navigate certain more complicated things in Italy. I am finding on this trip there are not many English speakers so I’m grasping to communicate and figure things out at times. Carlotta is my angel!

I drive up to the Fiesole pharmacy to get my test when they open at 9am. I figured driving there early in the morning was my best chance for the clearest of traffic on what I consider to be 1-way roads that Italians use as 2-lane highways. As I am driving up there, I keep talking to myself – ‘That’s good, that’s good all you Italians, sleep-in today, it’s Saturday, please be as unproductive as possible this morning!’

I make back up to Fiesole and find the pharmacy. Of course, it is on a corner with the tiniest of access. I will need to keep driving to find something remotely close. I do find a spot that is a parallel spot, but there are two open back-to-back, so it’s not like I have to park this large car on a rice grain. I move into the spot, I look at the signs…I have no idea if I can park there or not, or park there during these hours, but I figure it is a Saturday morning in a walled City, I should only be gone 15 minutes, this shouldn’t be a problem. Are parking attendants really combing these spots up in the oldest City in the world on a Saturday morning in late November? Um, the answer is yes, yes they are. More on that later.

I walk up to the pharmacy and find about 10 Italians waiting outside. It is 9:10am. I’m making up a story in my mind. Good grief. What? Has the pharmacist not opened up yet? This IS a small town. Wow. And on and on I am going on in my head. I try to make eye-contact to see if anyone will look at me and I can ask them if they speak English. They are all talking amongst themselves and not looking my way. Then I see someone walk out of the pharmacy and I realize they are open!

I keep hearing them say ‘tampona’ – and I’m like, surely, they can’t all be talking about tampons. Well, as it turns out, I figure out, they are Italians that need to be tested every 2 days to work and the COVID test is called the ‘tampona’ in Italian. They have all already had their test and are just waiting on results, so I can go in and let them know I want a test. Which is what I proceed to do. After I talk to the pharmacist, he let’s me know he still isn’t ready to test any new people as he is currently processing the results for the first 10.

I go back out to the crowd and they realize I am American. They first thing they say to me is ‘Let’s go Brandon. Let’s go Brandon.’ Imagine that. They don’t speak an ounce of English, but they want to communicate that to me. I laughed and said, ‘Yes, exactly. Let’s go Brandon.’ Hard to believe that phrase has traveled all the way over here and that would be the first thing they want to communicate to me, in this oldest of Cities in Italy. Every where I go it seems Italians are very anti the current administration.

Pretty soon, a short little doctor in a white coat tells me to go around to the side of the building to a window to get tested. He then asks me, ‘Are you Juliette Louis the American actress?’ I hand him my passport and say, ‘I’m definitely not Juliette Louis.’ He continues to insist I might be her and I look exactly just like her. We get that settled that I’m not her and he asks me to step up closer to the window. It is literally so high, I feel like I am on tip-toes trying to reach the window of a castle.

Then a long stick that looks like a miniature mascara wand at the tip, gets twirled around in both my nostrils. I literally have to stand on the sidewalk on my tippy toes while he does this. When he is done, he says – okay, go wait 15 minutes and we’ll bring out your green pass if you are negative. So I go back and wait around the front again with the ‘Let’s go Brandon’ Italians. About an 1:15 after my arrival – I am done with my testing and sent on my way.

I get back to my car, relieved it hasn’t been towed. The whole walk back I think, this took so much longer than I thought, please don’t let the car be towed, please don’t let the car be towed. Well, it’s there! But now someone has pulled behind me and it will definitely be an Austin Powers 30-point turn to get out of there, oh and what’s this? Something on the windshield? Oh, that must be my parking ticket. So to answer the earlier question – yes, in this oldest City in the world, they are up early on Saturday mornings, roaming the walled City parking areas, looking for infractions.

This was my last full day in Fiesole. I had signed up for a cooking class with Silvia. After breakfast and my morning walk, we got started with the cooking class at 11am. She invited me into her kitchen and had a table ready with the ingredients. We would be preparing a spinach ricotta ravioli in a butter sage sauce. She would also be showing me how to make tagliatelle with the left over dough.

The dough is a very simple recipe of 200 grams Durham wheat and 2 eggs, with only a pinch of salt. You drop the eggs into the center of the dough and begin to blend and work into the dough. After a year of sourdough bread baking, this feel very straightforward. We then let the dough rest while we worked on the filling – a very simple spinach and ricotta blend.

She had me pour oil into the pan and I was modest with how much I poured, Silvia said, ‘More, more, you are not on a diet!’ I laughed and poured more generously. To that I added a single garlic clove that had just 2 small incisions with a knife. I place that into the pan with the oil to infuse the oil with the garlic aroma. She said you didn’t want it too strong an you would eventually toss the garlic clove.

She then had me sauté they spinach and add an equally amount of salt, pepper, and fresh ground nutmeg to taste. She said you want it balanced but powerful as it will have to bring the flavor to the ravioli which really has a mild taste. Also the ricotta is very mild. After the spinach was sautéed, we removed the garlic clove and she had me put the spinach on a cutting board and chop it up with a half-moon slicer. She said you don’t want it puréed, just chopped. I then added it to the ricotta to blend. After that, we again seasoned it with the salt, pepper and nutmeg.

We used a pasta press to transform the dough into long thin sheets to make the ravioli – from 0 to 7 on the machine in thinness. We then worked together to prepare the raviolis with the filling, remove the air in the pocket, cut with the ravioli cutter and then seal with the edge of a fork. The process went more quickly than I would have expected and soon awe had all the ravioli I would ever want and more for lunch portion.

She then showed me how to use the machine to make the tagliatelle with the left over dough. It was a 0-6 process of thinning and I was thrilled when I saw the how easily the tagliatelle spun out of the machine into my left hand as my right hand cranked the pasta press. It was as thrilling as it was when I was a little kid playing with play dough and you did something fancy with your new play dough set.

We then went to her garden to pick fresh sage – about 2-3 handfuls. We melted about 3-4 tablespoons of butter in the pan and once it was melted, added the sage leaves whole to get them crispy. While that was happening, the water was boiling for the ravioli and it really only took 1-2 minutes for the ravioli to be ready. It just had to float to the top of the rolling boil and it was done. As they were done, I scooped them out like gold fish with a mesh wire basket and added them to the bowl in layers between the butter sage sauce. I tossed it all together and we added grated cheese.

Silvia then set a table outside for me on this beautiful sunny day, overlooking the hills, and also brought over a bottle of a wonderful organic Chianti. I enjoyed the ravioli and that wine and the view so much. It was a perfect little moment under the Tuscan sun. A great way to end my last full day in Fiesole.

I spent the rest of the afternoon writing – working on my book and blogging, and then did a little packing for the next day. Silvia told me to come back to her kitchen at 8pm and we would boil the tagliatelle for my dinner and she did just that and added a pesto. I had a pasta on pasta day and I was perfectly happy about that. I went back to my room and enjoyed dinner with some more of that bottle of wine.

Tomorrow I would be heading out to go pick up Heidi and Jeff in central Florence. I’m cringing about thinking about driving there on a Saturday at high noon. But, once that hurdle is behind me, we will head to the Val D’Orcia where the farm is and about 1:45 from Florence. I feel much more comfortable out there on the roads and I am so excited to get back and see everyone again. Buona Notte.

I am still the only guest at the Villa and Silvia gets up early to make all of these baked goods, so really how can I pass those up? I’m obviously on a high carb plan in Italy. Yes – of course, I’d love a croissant with a side of butter and a side of another kind of bread you baked with butter and jam. Yes, I’ll take the eggs, the yogurt with granola, the meat slices, the honey, the fruit salad, and bottomless cappuccinos. Hey, at least I’m not snacking.

While I am staying in the hamlet of Fiesole, I’m not actually in the City Centre. The sky was bright blue this morning and I thought it would be a great day to try the loop walk at the top of the walled City. I also needed to go there to figure out how/where to get my COVID test I needed to take on Saturday. I had an appointment at the lab in Fiesole that Silvia had booked for me that morning, but think the type of test is overkill and I don’t need that fancy of a test that gets sent to a lab. I just need a rapid antigen test before I head off to the farm.

I head up to Fiesole City Centre about 10:30 am – when I think everyone who wants to drive my direction on a one-lane road has already gotten to where they want to be that morning. That plan worked out pretty well. Also me studying where the parking lots were on the map – like it was a treasure map – was also another good pre-plan. I felt like I knew what I was doing all the way up to Fiesole and had a parking lot in mind.

As to plan, I found a great lot outside the walled city and parked without issue and headed up to the top. The views, as advertised, were spectacular- you can see all of Florence from the top and then some.

I walked around and headed first to the ‘Lab’ – to inquire more about my test. There were several people waiting. We all had our masks on. It goes through my head – wouldn’t it be ironic if I actually got COVID while waiting to find out how to get tested for something I absolutely feel no symptoms for at the moment? I try to assess each person – do they look sick with COVID or are they just there for blood tests, while I wait.

A hot mess of an old woman with a flashy red hat walks in with about the dirtiest blue mask I’ve seen in a while. She keeps switching between her mask and her scarf. I think oh boy – I wonder what her story is. She starts speaking to me in Italian and I tell her I don’t understand. Then she starts speaking to me in good English with a thick accent. She says, ‘Are you American? I’m from New York but I live here now.’ It’s so funny, because she seems like she blends in with the old ladies over here so well, I don’t picture her to be an American. But she starts talking about politics. ‘Do you like Biden?’ She asks. I say, “I don’t like what he is doing to our country.” She says, ‘Me neither, I voted for Trump.’ I wanted to laugh, because that is the last thing I expected out of her mouth. But wow, she knew a lot about US politics and the border crisis and the economy. More than I could ever tell her about Italian government. I really know nothing about the Italian government. Anyway, then she goes into telling me she plans to go to Hawaii soon to go visit a granddaughter living there. Another thing I don’t expect out of her mouth. But she has the whole trip planned, flight to L.A. – a few days there, then on over to Hawaii. She asks if I think she’ll have to wear the mask the whole flight, I answer – ‘Yes, yes you will.’ Anyway, she was a real character to talk to and before I knew it my questions were answered by the lab and I was on my way. I wouldn’t need the test there, I just needed to go to a pharmacy to get a rapid test on Saturday.

I find a place Silvia recommended to me for lunch and they have a cute little table in a cubby outside. So hard to explain. But I fit perfect there. I ordered what I thought was a salad with goat cheese. Not so much. See photo. But it tasted just fine and then the pasta came and it was perfect. Another spectacular meal. I’ve started making lunch my main meal of the day, complete with wine. When I get back to the Villa, I just eat a piece of fruit if I get hungry. Between that and walking – hoping not to gain any kilos over here.

After lunch I head out for the ‘Pietra Serena E Leonardo’ route which means ‘The stonemasons and Leonardo’ – it sounds so much more appealing in Italian, doesn’t it? It’s a 2.5 kilometer loop that goes through a forest and has some steep inclines. Silvia said it is a beautiful hike. So off I went, and yes – it WAS beautiful. As I got deeper and deeper into the woods, I thought, hmmm, I am out here alone. What if someone attacks me? Isn’t that said, our minds have to go there? I thought, ‘Well, Silvia wouldn’t have sent me here solo if she thought it wasn’t a good idea.’ Then I get on a real rocky descent and think, ‘What if I twist my ankle? There is no one around that I have seen that can help me. I would have to wait for someone to come.’ I keep trying to shake these thoughts off and enjoy the walk.

I come up to the top and there is an older man there -probably in his 70’s. He is Italian speaks no English, but is really trying to give me directions on the loop and telling me to be sure to turn left at the tiny church. I understand that much. It was reassuring to see him and have him be helpful and to know there is another soul on this route. If I were with someone, these thoughts wouldn’t even be entering my head. It’s just the solo factor that spins up in ‘what if’ moments like this that I’m not used to back home.

Well, I finished the hike and managed to enjoy the views, my time in nature, and all the good hiking/walking I did on this day. The sun will be setting soon and I wanted to be sure to get back before dark. I found the car and headed home, feeling more and more comfortable with my little route home as the days go by.

I decided today needed to be the day I give my body a break from the death grip on my steering wheel and adrenaline rush of maneuvering my RV around this tiny town. The weather is warmer and sunny today, which is a nice break from the rain of the last two days. A great day to get out and walk as much as possible.

I sat down to another nice breakfast with Silvia and her friend Rafaella. It’s so cozy in the breakfast room. Silvia starts a fire each morning. She makes me as many coffees as I’ll drink and always has a nice display of offerings for breakfast. Silvia, Rafaella and I are all about the same age – so it was interesting to talk about culture and their upbringing. We also started talking about vision and driving and how it makes them much more cautious as we age. They said all their friends call them grandma drivers. What do you know – we are all kindred spirits! LOL.

After breakfast, I ask Silvia about hikes around the property, she points me right up the hill and said there are 360 degree views from there. So I head up that path. It was such a beautiful morning and the walk was incredibly invigorating, noticing nature all around me with jaw dropping views. It’s interesting – at home, I always want music or a podcast on – when I’m getting ready, when I’m out walking, when I’m cooking. Here – I am just content with silence. I think the beauty all around me is so stimulating to my senses, I really don’t need anything else and I don’t want anything to distract from what I am experiencing. 

Silvia has a little Lagotto Romagnolo (Italian Water Dog), he’s about 11 months old and he is the cutest little dog. His name is Ugo and he followed me off the property and decided to be my companion the whole walk. It was so cute – it was like he was my little protector. So much so, once we got near the main road he started jumping on me as if to say, ‘That’s it, that’s as far as we are allowed to go.’ So I said, okay, let’s turn around then. They use these dogs in Italy to hunt truffle. They only cost about 700 Euros here, but if you want one back home you’ll need to pay $3k – $5k. Pretty steep for a dog. I think I’ll just enjoy Silvia’s dog for the day and not think I need a dog like this back home, because you know I thought that by the end of the walk.

During the walk – wouldn’t you know I walked right past the ‘road’ that gave me so much trouble the night before. It was like returning to the scene of trauma in the daytime and wondering how you made it through. I will say – it did feel way less intimidating in the daytime, but still I could see, I would have never made it through if I had tried to keep going forward. It did make me think though – probably a good idea to stay off the roads a night as long as I am solo over here and still not familiar with the area.

After my morning walk, I came back and worked on my book and then my blog for a bit until I was hungry for lunch. So I walked into town to try Mario’s. This was the ‘real deal’ Italian local place. After they sat me outside, the old man (possibly Mario himself) came to my table and spoke to me in Italian. I told him (in Italian) I didn’t understand or speak Italian. So, he did what any good old Italian would do. He spoke the exact same thing to me in Italian, only this time, more slowly and louder. I nodded my head as if to say, okay yes, sounds good. I think he was telling me the specials?

A younger woman, realized my plight and came to the table with a menu in English – and within 15-20 minutes I had my first official Italian meal of the trip, complete with wine, coffee and dessert. I knew I wouldn’t be venturing out again after this meal, so decided just splurge on lunch. The cost for all of that was only about 20 Euro. A bargain, considering I also ordered food to go in case I got hungry later (I doubt I would – but didn’t want to leave again).

I enjoyed my walk back home and just taking in nature some more. It was wonderful to have this stress free day to take walks, and hike, and write. I watched the sunset off my outdoor balcony at the end of the night and smiled realizing, yes – I’m finally starting to relax and settle in – this feels fantastic.

I do believe I finally fell sound asleep at 6am, only to be jolted awake by my alarm at 8am. I had told the inn keeper, Silvia, I would be ready for breakfast at 8:30am and as I am the only one staying here right now, I didn’t want to keep her waiting. Ohh, how I wanted to sleep, but I know from previous trips it is best to just make yourself get up as early as possible so that you can get adjusted to the time zone sooner rather than later.

I quickly got ready and ran downstairs to the breakfast area. And there Silvia was with the full display of breakfast items including two types of bread that she had made that morning, eggs, yogurts, fresh made granola, cheeses, juice, water, coffee. All a girl could ask for on her first full morning in Italy. She was wonderful to talk to and get to know and she gave me all sorts of tips, showed me where points of interest were on a map, and communicated general guidance about the area.

It was raining today – all day a steady rain – so I stayed in and worked on my book and my blog. About 2pm I started to feel hungry and decided to venture out to look for a bite to eat. There were two close places she mentioned, including a pizzeria – which I assumed would just be open all day. In Italy most restaurants close by 2:30pm and don’t open again until 7pm. I was eager for my first official meal in Italy – so was thinking I could find the places she recommended quickly.

Well, with the rain, and me trying to get to know the new town this idea proved more difficult. Driving up and down small roads in the rain, I just had general names of places expecting a big sign to say ‘Pizzeria’ – no such luck. Also – nowhere to park unless I wanted to try to park my boat of a car up on a curb parallel. In Italy a Volvo SUV might as well be an RV. I drove around for a while and then saw signs for the CO-OP – which is their version of a grocery store. I thought, well, maybe I can find a sandwich or to-go salad to eat now that the restaurants are closed.

I see cars lining up, so I get in the line thinking it is in the line to go down into the parking garage. A guy seems to be checking each car. Maybe you need to show vaccination proof before you can enter? I had no idea. Different country; different rules. As I get near the front, I see a tent with people in hazmat outfits and cars pulling in. I’m like ‘Ohhhh, this is April 2020 in the USA and this is the line for a COVID PCR test.’ No thanks! Excuse me while I exit this line pronto. I giggled to myself as I drove away.

Silvia described the main town Fiesole so nicely, maybe I will just drive over there and see what’s open this rainy Tuesday afternoon. Well, it was another Medieval town with tight squeeze roads. As I got near the top, again, I didn’t see any big parking lots for my ‘RV’ – so I decided, hmmm, not the day to see Fiesole. I should head back to home base and decide what to do. Ask Silvia some advice on parking and more details on exactly the restaurant names for dinner. I still haven’t had lunch, so maybe an early dinner will be best.

I get back and ask her about parking for these two places she recommended. She says, ‘Oh park at the Co-op, underground.’ And she said for Fiesole, I have to park at the bottom of the walled City and walk up. Why haven’t I learned this lesson? Best not to just drive on up into the walled city and try to find parking. LOL.

I head on back out to get maybe a few snacks for my room and a pizza to go. I get to the co-op and see the ramp down to the garage below. I think – oh boy, I hope my RV fits down here. Thankfully, I get down there and it is the most spacious parking I have seen yet. I walk through the co-op and pick up some fruits and nuts for snacks in my room and head over to the Pizza place. It’s about 6pm.

I am so excited, I see a big wood-fired oven and many options of pizza. I try to order and they guy tells me. ‘Oh Pizza doesn’t start until 7pm, I can put your name down for a table.’ I let him know I just want to pick up something to go and he repeats, ‘The oven doesn’t start until 7pm.’ Now, I just want something – anything. I ask, ‘Do you have a sandwich or something?’ He points me to a display case like you’d see in a train station in Italy. This place has the ambiance of an ice cream shop, complete with plastic chairs. I really don’t want to eat here, but I also don’t want to bring back something cold to eat in my room.

I order a ‘pizzetta’ that he puts in a toaster oven. He asks if I want something to drink. I don’t think this is the scene I imagine for my first cup of vino in Italy. I just say a bottle of water. I go sit and wait for my pizzetta, which is as exciting as waiting for someone to warm a Trader Joe’s pizza in a toaster oven. I watch a string of workers come in and out, getting beer and sitting outside under an awning in the rain. My pizza arrives and I am so hungry, it’s actually really good. Who am I to judge a little pizzetta at this ice cream ambiance place. I worked hard for this 5 Euro meal – I am thankful for my pizzetta and water. Now time to head back. Let me guzzle all of this water, I will be home in 10 minutes, right? Not so much.

I put the GPS directions back into my phone and head back home in the rain. It’s dark, cars everywhere, and it’s easy to miss your road. I miss my left turn and the GPS redirects me to a new route. All is going good until I start heading up this road ‘via del canto e rosaio’. I am 100% certain, I will not forget this road for the rest of my life. As the road progressed, it turned into a tight winding narrowing ally with a block wall on the right and and a drop off on the left. It was like an optical illusion looking forward – a real Alice in Wonderland moment.

Ever sensor on the car was going off telling me I am about to hit something on the right, the left and both front corners. I start praying, ‘Please God, let me just squeeze through and get to the other side.’ I get to a point of where I am about an inch away from hitting the wall on the right, I literally have to pull the side view mirror in, and on the left there is barely enough room to open my door into shrubbery, so I can get out and check out the situation. This is also on an incline. Again I say, did I mention it is also raining?

I sit there thinking, ‘I’m stuck. I am really stuck.’ I really need another person to help guide me out of this mess. But really there is no one for a mile. It was another – okay Jesus, it’s you and me. Help me! So, I remained calm and thought ‘If I can back out of this an inch at a time. I just MAY be able to spare this car with no damage.’ I was also feeling thankful in that moment that earlier that morning I was able to get in touch with my Visa company and confirm that I am fully covered, whatever happens. Still, no one wants to scrape up their rental the first day of a 2 week trip. Oh the humiliation! LOL.

So, that is literally what I did. I backed the car up an inch, got out, checked everything. Backed up an inch, got out, checked everything. Hazards on. Backed up an inch, got out, checked everything. Sometimes I would shut the engine off, because I wouldn’t see the parking brake engaged. The last thing I needed was the car rolling backward on me. If the car is off, for sure I can engage the parking brake.

I literally did that at least 20x. I kept getting out on the brush side. At one point, I got out straight into very thorny rose bushes that I had to unpluck from my clothes. This was such a tight situation on a curve – I had no room for error and was literally thanking God I wasn’t driving a manual transmission, it would have been over already – scrape city. The precision of the automatic and tight brakes were saving me. All this was happening while all of the sensors were going off and with the windshield wipers banging back and forth steadily. Also, the back camera was really hard to see out of – I pretty much had to rely on the side view mirrors, once I could pop the right one back open.

After about 30 minutes, miracle of miracles, I made it down that hill with no damage to the car and released one of the biggest exhales I can remember. I was calm when it was happening, but once I was out of it felt like I wanted to throw up. I just wanted to get back to the Villa and maybe not drive the car for a full day. I have driven so many times in Italy – but this trip, so far, has me feeling like I jumped a few levels in a video game and the game is creaming me, I am not used to this level! LOL.

I was so relieved to pull back into the Villa driveway and head up to my room. All that stress – I was sure I would sleep well on this night. BUT, just in case, decided to take some zQuil. I wanted no chances on this night. I texted a few folks back home and started laughing about the absurdity of the day wondering – what had it all meant? I think I learned even when you feel you are alone, you are never really alone – God is there with you. Not the greatest day in Italy I’ve ever had – but still grateful to be here, the lessons learned, and hopeful that Wednesday would be a MUCH BETTER DAY.

After 2 years of waiting and months of planning, I finally found myself at the ticket counter at LAX presenting all that documentation required to enter Italy as my final destination. Could this really be happening? Was I really going to travel over there solo after my travel buddy Carla was not able to come last minute because of an unexpected hospitalization? How bad did I really want to go back to Italy?

I guess pretty bad as I decided to proceed with the trip and and look forward to meeting the friends for the Thanksgiving reunion we had planned for 2020 that was delayed. I would spend my first week in the hills above Florence in Fiesole, working on my book and taking in the countryside at an agriturismo. That was the plan!

I upgraded to Business Class, securing the best deal I could – waiting until check-in day. I wanted to treat myself as I would be flying solo round trip. That upgrade also gave me access to the executive lounge – pre flight. I went there after check-in hoping for a little bite before I boarded. I guess Covid really has taken a hit to these executive lounges now with options. I literally felt like my choices were something I might find in the refrigerated section of a 7-11. I decided to exit the lounge and find a good meal pre-flight. I went over to Vino Volo and that did the trick – I had a wine flight paired with a beef brisket served on a bed of Arugula with roasted peppers, avocado and a balsamic glaze. All fantastic. 

Finally, it was time to board that flight. I floated down the aisle to my business class seat against the window and got settled in. I decided to try to find the most Italian movie I could with the movie options and settled on Goodfellas for the flight. I hadn’t see it in years. The movie does a masterful job of making the most intense mafia actions seem like normal every day talk and actions. I think real life in the world the last 2 years is so mutes, that this type of movie is an escape that feels better, like a more simple time – ironically! I was riveted all through dinner service and paused it as I tried to settle down to sleep in my flat bed. 

Okay – who has tried to sleep with a mask on all night? Um, it is just plain horrid. You feel like you just need to sneak it under your nose so you can breathe and not suffocate. I’m astonished that on a plane that you can’t board without a negative COVID test, 100 other details about your life, and you are in a cabin where everyone is 6 feet apart, and the cabin air is filtered – all that and you have to wear a surgical mask while you sleep. What? I guess I should be thankful I could remove it to eat and drink. Even in that situation, you feel like they expect you to put it on in between bites. I threw caution to the wind and fully took the mask off to eat. No one said a word. Okay, back to trying to sleep with a mask on – it was so claustrophobic. It makes you hot and really, I don’t think I slept. I would wake myself up when I did dose for a few, cough-choking. So my trick was, to turn so they couldn’t see me, literally hide my face and sneak my mask under my nose. How is it we live in a world where we have to hide our face to breathe? Anyway, so many times I felt so hot, I just stripped off all of my layering to sleep with just my t-shirt and joggers – that did the trick to cool my body temp down.

90 minutes before landing they woke us up to serve breakfast. The food was generally pretty good, so I kept eating trying to get myself in the Italy time zone of meals. We soon landed and I knew I had a tight connection. For whatever reason – Paris airport Passport control is always severely understaffed and it can take 30-45 minutes to get through even in the off season. You are also required to go through a security one again to board. My 1:15 minute transition time made all of this tight as they close the doors 15 minutes before arrival. I literally got to my gate after running once I passed through passport control right at the time they close the gate. The gate lady said as I arrived huffing and puffing, ‘You can relax now, you made the flight.’ Phew! She should have had a shot of Limoncello for me waiting – that would have been amazing.

The flight from Paris to Florence is short and soon I was viewing the beautiful autumn rolling hills, with little farms as we descended into Florence. It felt so incredible to be back on Italian soil after I exited down the plane steps and walked on the tarmac to the terminal. Once in the terminal, my bags came quickly and I was outdoors headed to the rental car area. I had to take a shuttle bus there and it was packed. It also took at least 20 minutes before it showed up. Once at the rental lot, it seemed like everyone on that shuttle bus needed to go where I went and it was 4 agencies represented by one lady. I was at the back of the line. I thought well, I have no where to be, even though I know I have ‘platinum’ status, I doubted anyone would have appreciated me walking to the front and using that leverage to get serviced right away. I didn’t have anywhere to be other than just wanting to make it to the agriturismo before it got dark.

Well, it took over an hour before I made it to the front of the line. The couple in front of me was an older couple from Montana and ALL the wife wanted to talk about was COVID rates and the vaccine. I kept trying to change the subject as it was the last thing I felt like talking about on vacation. She was obsessed though – and borderline manic in wanting to process it all and had her opinion she kept wanting to barf on me. I finally was able to just get her to talk about her plans and where they were going. An all inclusive Hilton near Pisa? It didn’t sound appealing at all to me, but I told her that sounded lovely and I was sure they would have a great time. What do I know? Maybe the Hilton all-inclusive near Pisa is amazing.

I finally make it to the beginning of the line and the woman there was so apologetic when she saw I was platinum. She said, ‘Why, why didn’t you come to the front? I would have taken care of you right away?’ I told her not to worry, I wasn’t in a hurry and felt bad moving ahead of everyone. She quickly processed me – and asked, do you want the extended coverage for insurance. Many trips ago I researched this and remembered my Visa covers me for this so I am good. I was fuzzy on the details, so declined because it can add up on a 2 week rental. She said, okay, you are sure you want to be responsible for the cost of the Volvo? Yes, I said confidently. Still, I walked away thinking…hmm, am I covered? Note to self, check on that when you get settled in.

Soon enough they brought the Volvo SUV around and I plugged my destination into WAZE and I was on my way. It was only about 8 miles out of Florence but a 30 minute drive. It was about 4:15pm. I followed the directions pretty easily, even when it started getting hairy with traffic and it was sending me up crazy hills in neighbors with cars stacked up on my left coming the other direction, cars parked on my right, motorcycles trying to fit in between, and locals on my bumper. This car I was driving seemed 3x bigger than the other cars. I was sure I was about to sideswipe 50 cars in a row and thought, hmmm, I do hope I am covered. Gulp. I was about 8 minutes away when the directions were trying to send me down a skinny road that suddenly had a makeshift gate up. The kind that they use for crowd control that can be moved. I thought, what? How is this road closed? Every alternative route wanted to send me down this road. I’m being generous when I say road – in the US we call it a very narrow alley. WAZE you don’t know what is up!? You aren’t accounting for this little make-shift gate. Clearly I need to go around. But I have no idea how to find an alternative route.

I drove around a bit, back-tracking, hoping it would redirect. Still it was trying to send me back to this ally of a road. Also, it was getting darker and it was more and more rush hour with cars either stopped or riding your tail when it had any opening at all. I decided to pull into a parking lot of what I think was an engineering university. What to do? I felt stuck. It was madness out there. I switched over to Google Maps, and PTL, it showed me an alternative route. True I would have to go back into the jungle of Florence rush hour traffic, but at least it was a route to get out of this mess and to my final destination. I called the inn-keeper to let her know I was in route but delayed. I have driven in Italy many, many, times but this ranks up there with one of the most stressful experiences. I thought, I think this is the most stressed I have been all year and I’m on vacation. I just kept breathing and whispering, help me Jesus, you are with me. It was dark now, and my death grip on the wheel tightened through each turn and two-way road, that should have been one way roads with drivers on my tail. Somehow I made it. I was so happy to pull into the long country driveway of where I was staying and seeing the little inn-keeper there waiting for me waiving me in (much like my own mom and dad would have done if they knew I was coming).

She took my luggage and brought me up to my spacious room. Showed me where she would have my breakfast ready for me in the morning and with that I got settled, sent all of the ‘I made it safe’ texts back home and then showered and went to bed around 7pm. That was probably too early and I should have forced myself to stay up longer, but I was just so tired. So there I was, after 4 hours sleep, about 11pm – WIDE AWAKE. This turns out, is a perfect time to obsess over the extra car insurance I maybe should have purchased. This is the time of night where every little molehill in your life becomes a mountain. I found myself calling my agent from State Farm in the middle of the night, ‘Hey, am I covered in Italy?’ Nope. Okay, let me call my Visa company. ‘Hey, am I covered in Italy.’ Not sure. Call this 1.800 number. Hmmm, that number isn’t dialable from Italy. Okay, I will have to figure this out in the morning. Or go back to Hertz and get coverage. Yes, this is a plan. I will be fine. Still, this stuff has a way of hanging on in the night and I was up for several hours worried about all manner of things in my life. I think my right ovary is twitching. OMG. What if I need to go to the hospital because it is going to burst. See what I mean, totally irrational. If you are in my life and are reading this, I was probably worried about something for you. I’m not even a worrier, but Jet Lag was playing crazy tricks on my mind. I finally fell asleep again – worn out from worry. Tomorrow would be a new day – and I would be rested. For now I was safe in this beautiful room and a cozy bed and back in my favorite spot in the world.

On the agenda for this day was the option to attend a cooking class at La Porta, the location of our first wine tasting dinner. I had done this cooking class the year before with Dana and knew it was going to be another ‘they are going to have to roll you out of there’ type of situation, where after you cooked several courses, you would also be eating the delicious rich meal you had just prepared. In fact, the year before Dana was actually even a little agitated when we left saying ‘I just can’t take it, I can’t eat another bite of rich food for a few days.’ Then she insisted we go on a two-hour walk in the countryside to walk it off. That memory was still fresh in my brain when this option for this cooking class was presented earlier in the week. I had asked Carla if she had a preference. Her preference was to NOT get up early the morning after Thanksgiving to go to a cooking class. With us both in agreement, we gleefully slept in the morning after Thanksgiving and dozed in and out of sleep as we could hear the rain falling.

After we woke up, I did some blogging and then got ready so I could head over to San Gregorio (where the Moricciani family live) to see if I could find Luciano and make an olive oil deal. He had told me the evening that we were drinking grappa together, that he wold make me some more oil and to come by on Friday to pick it up. I had no idea what time that meant, so I thought hmm, around lunch time might be good? So while Carla was getting ready, I made the 7-minute drive over to their farm house to see if I could find Luciano working around the outside. I drove up and it didn’t look like anyone was around. I walked all around the grounds of the house and didn’t see Luciano. At that point I was thinking that I would need to make a more ‘concrete’ plan to get the olive oil from from dealer, Luciano.

This was also the day that all of the guests had to ‘pay up’ for their stay. They don’t take credit cards here so you basically have to ‘stock pile’ money all week in your safe, with daily $250 withdrawals from the cash machine. And then hope and pray you have enough on Friday when Carlo comes for the dough. All week long we all had this on our daily ‘to do’ list – to get our money for the day and add it to our pile. Carla would laugh at me every day as I counted out our pile of money that looked like Monopoly money and did the calculations of how much more we needed.  Carlo had said after the truffle hunt today, he would come collect the money from all of us staying at the farm. I watched him do this last year and then understood why he always wears Cargo shorts or pants as they have so many pockets. And when you give him your pile of money, he doesn’t even count it, he just trusts that it is all there and plunges it into one the cargo pockets. I wondered if it would be the same this year.

After I returned, Carla was ready and we both needed to do the cash machine run and get something to eat. It was nearly 1pm and we hadn’t had breakfast. Something I really appreciated about Carla was how go-with-the-flow she was and our eating patterns totally matched. We didn’t necessarily both need breakfast every day and we typically were hungry or not hungry at the same times. We also both got to the place a few times during the week where we were feeling, as Carla said, ‘I feel like if I just had a tomato, that would be enough for today.’

We went into Pienza and had success at the cash machine and walked around with our $500 Euro trying not to look like targets. The cash machine was also perilously close to the lavender shop with that lady that talked our ear off. Every time we walked by, Carla would say, ‘Let’s look straight ahead and walk fast so she doesn’t see us.’ We both had fears of getting pulled back into that vortex of Lavender and not escaping for a long while.

We were hoping for another pizza shop that might be open around now, but were not having any luck finding a pizza shop that decided to open today. It is a marvel to understand that these little shops in town really don’t have a schedule in the off season. They may or may not decide to open for lunch. Carla had remembered a little panini shop that she saw earlier in the week that always seemed open and might be able to make us a sandwich. We passed one shop that looked overly crowded, so we kept walking. She said she remembered it was further up the way.

We stumbled upon it and it was a deli type of place and it was empty inside. I wasn’t even sure it was open. But there was this older woman just reading a paper who perked up when we walked in. We asked her if she would make us a sandwich and she was happy to do so. She removed a netting cover over the ‘meats’ she had to slice for us and asked whether we wanted soft or medium cheese. These choices all seemed so straightforward, what meat? what cheese?..boom, you are done ordering. Carla asked about the bread it would be served on. The lady replied, ‘typical local bread.’ Only she said it in half English- half Italian. I do remember hearing ‘typico’ and ‘local-ee’ or something like that and it seemed good enough for both of us.

There was no place to sit, so we figured we would just take the sandwiches back to the farm and eat at our table in front of a fire. The lady put them in a little to-go paper sack and we paid and walked out with our two little sack lunches. We were excited to try our sandwiches when I spied a gelato place right across the way. I remembered Carla had only had one gelato so far (in Florence) and wanted to try the lemon flavor here in Pienza. I asked her if she wanted her gelato now as we were leaving tomorrow. She was ‘all in’ on that plan.

Once we walked inside the gelato shop, I could see they also served cappuccinos and had tables to sit. I suggested we order coffees and sit and eat our sandwich, then she could enjoy her gelato after we ate. She agreed that was a great idea. So there we sat with our coffees and sandwiches. Both Carla and I could not get over how GOOD the sandwiches were. It was so simple but so good. She mentioned that she often makes salami sandwiches back home for lunch but they never taste this good. And I was thinking that I don’t really eat bread anymore and this was a treat beyond measure to have a sandwich on this fresh bread with incredible cheese and salami. Nothing else required. I also laughed at us – just two simple valley girls – most happy when we are eating pizza or a sandwich. We enjoyed all of the fancy meals of the week – and probably me more than Carla, who is less adventurous with exotic dishes – but when it came down to it, our glee factor both came off the charts with our pizza in front of the fire and now this sandwich.

When we were done, Carla ordered her lemon gelato and it seemed we were nearing the end of the Italy bucket list items we had set out on for Carla when we planned this trip. So far this trip had exceeded both of our expectations on every possible level. At this point, anything else was icing on the cake. It was now about 2:45pm and I remembered the truffle hunt was at 3:30pm so we headed back to the farm.

When we pulled up, all of the parking spaces were mostly taken so I was trying to wedge the car between some trees when I could see Carlo’s head poke into view and he was waiving us in, quickly. It looked like they were all ready and lined up to go on the truffle hunt. I saw everyone outside, the dogs and the hunter in his official camo jacket. I had planned on changing my shoes before heading out, but there was really no time. Carla decided she didn’t want to go out for the 1.5 hour hunt, so I handed her all of our stuff and quickly ran to catch up with the group.

I wasn’t sure what a truffle hunt would be or if this would be a repeat of our 2 hour hike a few days before, but I was game for whatever. I am so glad I didn’t miss this! I learned so much about truffles and how you find them. In a nutshell, these dogs are trained from the time they are puppies to pick up the scent. A trained dog will lead the hunter to the spot where they are sniffing truffle underneath the earth. The dogs will start digging for them and will even eat the delicacy if the hunter doesn’t intervene before the dog digs it up. Click on the video below to see the truffle hunter working with his dogs.

White truffles (the kind we were hunting for) are the most expensive and go for $6k – $10k per pound. Truffles are expensive because it is very hard to farm them. They only like very specific kinds of soil and tree. Because they live inside tree roots, you can’t just plant truffle seeds in a field or something. They also peak in the ground for only about 24 hours, so you have to almost be out there daily, if they are growing on your property – not only to find them, but also to guard against thieves that know you have truffle and try to come in to harvest your truffle. Carlo is on constant watch for truffle thieves who do try to enter the property where they grow and harvest his truffles. It is also important after they are harvested that you sell them to local chefs within a day or so, or they start to wither.

When we left for the hunt, they really didn’t expect that we would find any on this day because it had been raining that morning and the day before which would make the scent harder for the dogs to pick up. The three little dogs were so cute and were running all over around the trees and would start digging when they think they found some. With as many people as we had on the hunt, the hunter said the dogs were a little distracted but he had combined a great skillset in all three dogs, so we should be able to find something. One had a really good sniffer, but was easily distracted. So he would pick up the scent – then run off. Another was a good digger once the scent and location was discovered. And the other one was a good support to the dog with the good sniffer or the good digger. The three dogs together made a great team. Click on the video below to see the dogs digging for the truffle.

And we did actually have GREAT success on this day, by the time we were done, Carlo’s hand was full of truffles. It was also amazing how once the earth was opened up to the location, a huge aroma of truffle hit your nostrils. What a mystery and delicacy the truffle is and it was a great experience to see how it is found and harvested. The dogs were also adorable, I would have loved to take one home. They looked like the perfect size. But – they are made to hunt and dig, they wouldn’t be happy in Orange County in my backyard. Nor would I be happy when I would come home to find my yard dug up everyday.

After the hunt, I went back to the room to gather the money to give to Carlo for payment, I opened our safe for the last time and we counted out the money 2x before I took the wad outside and found Carlo. He just took the cash just like last time, with a smile and said thank you before putting it in one of his cargo pockets. He didn’t count it, he just trusted it was all there. It seemed again so ‘old world’ this method of business. All in cash and with trust. I asked him about olive oil and told him about the deal I made with Luciano. He knew about it and said, ‘Yes, you are coming over for olive oil today right? We made more for you.’ I said, ‘Yes, what time?’ He said, ‘6 o’clock,’ That sounded good to me as it was now around 4:45pm.

Carla and I were going to be attending a ‘pot luck’ final dinner at Teresa and Rick Turner’s location in Castelmuzio. Vicki and the Turners were going to open the door up between their apartments and host everyone on the trip that wanted to come. They said to be hungry as they were cooking and they encouraged all of us that still had food from our ‘Dolce Vita’ stay goods. If you paid extra for the Dolce Vita stay, when you had arrived there was a hearty bounty they had provided for you on your kitchen table and in your fridge. A selection of farm fresh produce, eggs, meats, cheeses, pasta, sauce, bread, fruit, veggies, treats…and on and on. Of course, during the week, you are out eating so much, that it is often hard to get through that food in addition to ‘left overs’ you bring home from the restaurant and always intend to eat, but never get to eating. Fresh on my mind was my rib-eye steak leftovers from Sunday. I still had never had time or appetite for my planned ‘steak and egg’ breakfast.

We decided we would throw together a meat sauce of sorts using the marinara they had given us and the left over sausages. We also had some garlic and onions that we could saute to liven up the dish. Once I poured the sauce in, I could see we would need more. Roy, who had been staying next door, had left for Rome after the truffle hunt, and was flying home from Rome early the next morning. So I told Carla, ‘Go next door and see if Roy used his sauce.’ Being a bachelor, I doubt he had, also, he didn’t have a kitchen in his unit. Carla went next door and came back. Bingo! She came back not only with more sauce but with extra other goodies he had left behind that we could bring to the pot luck.

It was fun working in our little make shift kitchen, that was really a cupboard, equipped with everything you really needed to put our sauce together. It was also nice to look forward to going to this gathering with everyone as our grand finale evening. It was amazing, that we all enjoyed each other so much that we were willing to come together on our own, not planned by the official activities on the farm, but because we genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. It was a good reminder to understand how quickly you could form community, with even one week of intentional time spent together. Back home, we are all so busy for this, even with our closest of friends. As I stirred the sauce, I was again thinking, how do you bring these lessons home and not forget?

Once the sauce was going, I left Carla to let that simmer and make the pasta while I went back to Luciano’s to see if I could secure that elusive olive oil. Once I arrived, I went upstairs to Luciano and Liliana’s door. I knocked and Liliana (who also doesn’t speak a word of English) welcomed me into their house. She was trying to communicate something to me about Luciano and that he would be coming soon and she invited me to sit with her at the table and wait. So I sat. And we looked at each other and tried to communicate some things, but it was challenging as it always is when you don’t speak each other’s language. I was kicking myself for not at least trying to learn some Italian words this year. It’s obvious I will keep coming here, I need to start investing in the language.

After about 15-20 minutes, I could hear rustling in the bedroom and a belt going on pants. It must have been Luciano getting ready to come out. Who knew? Maybe he had been in the shower? Or sleeping? I really didn’t know, but soon he came out in his nice sweater, jeans, and hair all combed. He sat down at the table with his iPad and tried to get the translator working so we could start conversing. By now it is 6:30pm and I’m thinking ‘I need to get back to Carla, and we need to drive 15 minutes to Castelmuzio.’ But, really, I couldn’t rush this process with Luciano and decided just to go with it and be present.

He stood up to go to his special liquor cabinet to pull out more of his custom hooch liquor. I said, ‘Oh no no! I have to drive,’ while making the driving gesture. His wife is also waiving him off as I am saying no. Then he says something to her and she gets up and walks over to the china cabinet to pull out two grappa glasses. She sets them down in front of me and looks at me with that knowing universal look between women, ‘you can’t control him.’ We both smiled, and even giggled a little and I surrendered with an ‘okay.’

Luciano poured me the liquid that looked darker than anything he had served me before, it looked almost black. I tasted it and said, ‘mmmmm.’ It was actually really good. Luciano says, ‘Pruna.’ I’m thinking, oh geez, I hope this isn’t prune juice or prune alcohol. But really, what could I do? So I just finished sipping it with him and took the time to present as a guest in their home, trying to communicate with the iPad, and being warmed by their little fire. By now, 15 more minutes had gone by and I was thinking, Carla was probably wondering where I was and this would be hard to explain when I got back. What could I say, “I got delayed drinking prune juice with Luciano?”

I decided to bring up the oil topic finally and he says (through the translator), ‘How much do you want?’ It kind of felt like how a drug deal goes down in the movies. I thought, ‘I want to actually ship this home, my luggage is full.’ He takes me downstairs to the production area and I point to the liter tins and say ‘I want to ship home 5 liters.’ As that is the minimum they will ship. Then he goes and finds a tiny bottle and puts it in my hand and says, ‘No pay,’ I hug him and say thank you as I know he wants me to fly home with at least something in my hands.

We then go into the store area where he is looking for an order form. I explain to not worry, I have one in my room, I can fill that one out. He agrees. Of course, all of this is done over a translator so it takes time and now I realize I could have just filled out my order form in the room. It is now well after 7pm. He asks if I will be at Cretaiole later for his final visit with grappa. I said we are all going out to Castelmuzio and probably won’t be back until 9 or 10pm. He says, ‘okay.’ I feel a little sad, knowing this is also his last group of tourists for the season and he won’t have anyone to come visit again until March.

I get back to our apartment on the farm around 7:15pm and Carla is all, ‘OMG, where have you been?’ I felt like a wayward husband coming home late. I couldn’t even think about how to explain how it all went down and I was virtually coming home without oil, except for that tiny bottle he placed in my hands as I was leaving. I start laughing and say, ‘OMG, You wouldn’t believe it, how can I help us get out the door?’ As we needed to head over to Castelmuzio right away. She explains she had a little issue with the pasta making when the water boiled over and splashed all over the stove and floor and snuffed out the burners, but she had recovered and figured it all out and the pasta was ready to be added to the sauce.

So we assembled everything, left the pile of dirty pots and pans in the sink, grabbed a loaf of bread and were heading out the door when we heard a knock. We thought it was someone going to the potluck. Nope, it was Luciano. He wanted to come in and visit and make sure we would all be meeting him later. So we put everything in our hands down and invited him in. I said to Carla, ‘You see, this is kind of like what happened to me. You can’t control him or the timing of things.’

So he starts telling us something about the fire place and then a cat jets into our room. I’m all, ‘No, no, I’m allergic, I need the cat out.’ It had run under the bed. Luciano quickly grabs a broom and with one swift movement of the long handle under the bed, the cat is out of the door again. It was impressive, his authority over the cat. With that we tried to explain we had to go and we would see him later. So we walked to the car and he went over to the veranda with his grappa to wait for everyone to return, because that’s what good grandpas do.

We arrived at the gathering already in full swing with dishes galore. Everyone had really gotten creative and it was a wonderful spread with lots of wine flowing. Rick and Teresa had also really made some lovely dishes – a Tuscan soup, southern style sausages, deviled eggs. I was so impressed with the spread and was also eager to try the pasta and ragu dish that Carla and I had labored over earlier in the night.

Around 9:15pm, I stood up and motioned to Carla that we should start to say our goodnights. We hadn’t packed yet (which was going to be interesting, considering the extra luggage from our ‘shopping’ sprees), and then there was the situation with Luciano waiting up for all of us, how could we ignore that and at least not spend a little time with him? Of course, once you start to say your goodnights, it is another 30 minutes before you can leave, so we didn’t get back to Cretaiole until near 10pm.

As we rolled up the driveway in the car, Carla says, ‘Turn the headlights off, I’m serious. We can’t let him see us, we have to pack!’ I try turning the lights off, but it is really pitch black on the road and I say, ‘We can end up in a ditch if I don’t turn the lights back on. It’ll be fine, others got back before us, they will be in there with him.’ So we pull up and walk past and can see, yes, there about 4-6 people in there with him drinking grappa and sitting around the table. That made us feel good that he had company so we proceeded to our room.

We start packing when we hear a knock at the door. I go to open it and find Debbie there, she says, ‘Hey, you two need to join us! It is the LAST night, you can’t miss this! Carla you haven’t had your dance with Luciano yet, he is asking for you.’ Carla said, ‘No, I can’t, I’m already in my sweats, I need to pack.’ Debbie replied, ‘You’re fine, here, wear my leopard scarf, you’ll look dressed up.’ She whipped it on her and I had to agree, she looked dressed up. We really loved Debbie and were tempted away from the business of packing to squeeze in one more experience. I knew it was futile to resist and in the end I was willing to trade some sleep for one more experience with this group and Luciano on the veranda.

So we headed out there and Luciano greeted us with a big smile and put glasses in front of us for grappa. I thought, ‘I am so glad we didn’t miss this.’ He looked so happy. It made me think of my life back home and how I often get so caught up in all that I ‘have to do’ that I miss these opportunities for connection and to be present. So we spent the next 90-minutes or so in there with Luciano and the others that decided to join that night.

Luciano expressed how much it meant to him for us to take time and how sad he would be to not have any new guests to visit until the Spring. He brought out old photos albums including his wedding album where he showed us pictures of him and Liliana on their wedding day. He also said how much he loved Americans and that his first memories as a boy were of the Allies freeing Italy in World War II. He even got teary eyed as he spoke to us. It was very touching. And then as if on cue, he pressed play on the Frank Sinatra music, and Luciano finally got his dance with Carla.

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.