Category: Traveling

Matt and Truth Trip Across Italy

Technically, Matt is my sister’s husband’s sister’s husband. So. You can see why we refer to Matt and his wife Truth as “cousins”. They are fine, misplaced Iowa relatives who, like us, heard the cry of Go East, Young Iowans, Go East.

From top right Italy to bottom left Italy. They did it all. And did it their way.
Matt and Truth and their two sons, started in Venice then went to the opposite side of the peninsula to see the tower leaning in Pisa, siesta’ed in Siena (staying at the country estate of Spanocchia) and then drifted south checking off Panicale, Naples, Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast. Finally arriving somewhat in lower left Italy – at the Greek ruins of wonderful, evocative Paestum. All during school vacation. ONE school vacation. From the look of the pictures, and their great stories, they did it very well indeed.

I’m in trembling awe of all they saw and did. With kids in tow. Be very afraid. Warning lights would be going off all over for me. Too many things to do! Too little time! Too kids! But their guys Max and Oliver are calm, cool and collected. Our “cousins” way of doing this epic trip just made me realize that . . . I must just be The Lazy Traveler.

They were in “our neck of the woods” of Panicale for just one day. And they just dived in there too. By the time they left they had seen some sights, sampled two of our favorite restaurants, enjoyed Aldo’s fine coffee and his summertime gelatis.


COUPLE TOURISTS GET CLIPPED IN ITALY
AND both the boys got their haircut by “my” barber, Biano. Oh, Biano, Biano where are you when I need you? You do not want to know how long my hair is now. It is like it was when I was in college. Terrible bother and I’m just being silly and obsessive — but I’m holding firm in my resolution to wait for Biano to take a whack at the bramble I’e allowed to grow up since I was last there in Italy. (18 days to go, Biano. 18 days.) The boys said they had never had such a work-over. They got the full treatment: wash, rinse, head massage and consultation on esoteric subjects such as: the length of sideburns relative to facial bone structure. Whoa. We are so not at the Maine Mall anymore, guys. So long and thanks for all the photos!

Twilight in the garden

It is the little things we often remember. This is one of those moments the Wiley Traveler has captured. She was walking with friends to Ulrich’s house when she caught a glimpse of him through his wisteria. Deep in a book, enjoying the last of the sun, the moment before he heard their approaching footsteps on his path.

After gathering a hungry gang there on Ulrich’s terrace, they all went out for a food moment. Wiley says that was memorable too. The diners and their conversation were very multi-national, but the pastas and pizzas were evidently 100 percent classic Italian.

Wiley knows the rest of us are chaffing at the bit to join her there. And still counting the days. 22! So, in the meantime, she tortures us with tales of torrellini we can’t quite touch? She has got a headstart on us, but we will be there and making up for lost time – PRESTO.

The next time we meet on this page we hope to have pictures of Italy from Venice to Pompeii. By our cousins Matt and Truth from just down the street here in Maine. They stayed one whirlwind night with Wiley, in Panicale, in the middle of their very photogenic Trip Across Italy. You’ll see. Stay tuned.

See you in Italy,

Stew

GOT ME SOME ITALIAN BLUES

Sigh. Trying not to check the calendar more than once a day. Because, I tell myself —in my most logical tone of voice— because Stew, that is just not really helping at all. But. A bright spot is daughter Wiley Vreeland. Living life vicariously through her, for a couple weeks. Her Countdown to Umbria Clock has ticked down to much smaller numbers than mine. She’s closer in number of days, and in geography. The Wiley Traveler should be landing in London in a couple days. So, technically she will at least be on the same continent as Italy. Checking maps again. Yes, same general continent.

Ok, NOW how many days? 54? Sigh. Trying not to check the calendar more than once a day. Because, I tell myself —in my most logical tone of voice— because Stew, that is just not really helping at all. But. A bright spot is daughter Wiley Vreeland. Living life vicariously through her, for a couple weeks. Her Countdown to Umbria Clock has ticked down to much smaller numbers than mine. She’s closer in number of days, and in geography. The Wiley Traveler should be landing in London in a couple days. So, technically she will at least be on the same continent as Italy. Checking maps again. Yes, same general continent. Anyway she’s seeing her artist/musician boyfriend Daniel in London for a few days and should arrive in Italy mid-April. Midge, baby Grayson and I follow along as soon as Grayson gets back from Costa Rica. She is saving the sea turtles of the rain forest or something equally noble. As I understand it from the brochure, she will be able to easily Save all the Sea Turtles In Just One Two Week Vacation! After all that turtle saving, we finally arrive in Italy late in May. Holding breath, turning blue, till then.

Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy

I’ve decided the mature way to handle waiting out the days till our departure would be to continue my Haircut Boycott. No more waiting for Godot. Oh no, no. We’re waiting for our barber buddy with the big silver bouffant, Biano da Panicale. He’s our stylish barber and chief news source. Like any good barber, he knows everything that is happening in his town. And, beyond barbering, he’s a darn good photog too. He took the Red Red Ferrari photos on the home page, as a matter of fact. But, like I said, his day job is being the town barber. And our barber. Our only barber since 1998. The gap between our last trip and this upcoming one is about twice as long as usual. Ergo. So is my hair. Vreeland’s head photographer Katherine snapped this hirsute photo while we were in the midst of hanging yet more Italian debris in our office this morning. Poster was an eccentric movie theater sized poster that arrived 20 years ago courtesy of our friend Massimo of Torino. Be honest. Haven’t you always wished you were named Massimo? What? That’s just me? Oh. Regardless, you have to love the promo line they used on that Frattelli Blues movie there in Italy. “The most explosive combination since nitro and glycerin”!

More soon, when we start getting Wiley Traveler reports direct from The Old Country.

Saluti a tutti,

Stew

Tunnel! Light at end of!

Airline tickets to Italy. Check. Maps. Check. Camera. Trip diary. Check. Check. Oh, yeah, we’re counting the days now. 56 to be exact. Then blast off. May May 25th come early this year. Please. Isn’t it based on the first full moon after the high tide or something? You know, like Easter?

Airline tickets. Check. Maps. Check. Camera. Trip diary. Check. Check. Oh, yeah, we’re counting the days now. 56 to be exact. Then blast off. May May 25th come early this year. Please. Isn’t it based on the first full moon after the high tide or something? You know, like Easter?

Non vedo l’ora as they say. That DOES actually translate as “Can’t see the hour” But it certainly means to imply “I can’t wait“. And, you know, I HAVE tried clicking my heels together three times. Huh. Funny. Worked in the movie.

Reduced to Reading about Italy

Here are a couple I’ve just added to the book shelves of our “Italian room” that show how wrongly eclectic we are, even within our Italian reading.

Well, it is obvious now. I am really and truly reaching for Italy-related stories. Daughter Wiley, the Wiley Traveler, is leaving for real live adventures there next month, but I can’t go for a few weeks after that. Totally reduced to day dreaming and going through photos and helping friends plan trips there. And reading every book ever written on the subject of Italy. You should see how many books we have here in our house. We’ve had to put all the Italian themed ones in one room and they fill all the shelves there. Books, brochures, maps. Ok,the Library at Alexandria it is not, but it is pretty deep in there.

Here are a couple I’ve just added to the book shelves of our “Italian room” that show how wrongly eclectic we are, even within our Italian reading.

THE RELUCTANT TUSCAN

This first book is a bit of a surprise. Most books about moving to Italy and restoring an old house are so romantic and staryeyed you may want to spitup. I was beginning to think it was required for the genre. The author of Reluctant Tuscan, Phil Doran, clearly did not get that romance memo. He is the RT of the title and a smart mouthed Hollywood writer for TV shows. He was drug, kicking and screaming from LaLaLand to LaDolceVitaLand and just being himself he quickly runs afoul of his wife, his neighbors, and the town officials. He’s surely a better writer, than a neighbor. Actually, it’s a relief to hear a non-romantic version of the classic “moving to Italy” story.

Oh. Sorry. You wanted Romance?

HOW SWEET IT IS

At almost the opposite end (that would be towards the Saccharine end) of our book shelves would be “A Thousand Days in Tuscany” by Marlene de Blasi. Like Frances Mayes (Under The Tuscan Sun), Marlene is writing in and about our neighborhood. Mayes is just north of us in Cortona. And de Blasi is south and east of us in very nearby San Casciano dei Bagni. We are in Umbria, both of them are in Tuscany. They both are American writers with brand spanking new Boy Toys. And compulsive need to Cook and Tell. And boy, Marlene will tell. And not just about cooking. Maybe her new fella Fernando doesn’t read English, I don’t know. But if he does, he now knows she doesn’t fight fair. She mines every fight they have for all its literary worth. And then she writes about the makeup sessions. I just go by all the soupy stuff. And speaking of soup, i do just breeeze by all the recipes at the end of every chapter. Of any book. What is that about? I’m reading along in a novel and suddenly I need a recipe for “Deep-Fried Flowers, Vegetables, and Herbs”?

So there’s that. And she does want to tell us EXACTLY what she wore on any given day. Where writers I could relate to in a meaningful way might say “then I went to town” she would first tell you what she wore to town: “Twill jodhpurds, riding boots, a white lace shirt, its collar tight and high as my chin, a soft leather jacket the color of sweet wine, my hair pushed up inside a brown beret.” Wait, wait. Did anyone ask what you wore to town? Having said all that, she is an amazing writer and wordsmith and I’d read her again I suppose. Mixed in with all the frilly stuff are some evocative observations of everyday life and food and fun and festivals. And hey, she’s a neighbor. Must be supportive. She also has a book on Venice. You guessed it: 1000 days in.

SPEAKING OF COOK BOOKS?

Have you read Julie & Julia? Fair warning. Absolutely less than nothing to do with Italy. But I’d heard it had a blog theme. I kept reading about it, seeing great reviews, etc. The Julie of the title (Julie Powell) did a cooking blog where she attempts to cook every one of Julia Child’s 600 recipes in her original 60’s cookbook classic. In a single year. Even the goopy stuff only sophisticated continental types could possibly keep down like calves brains, tripe, marrow, the whole works. In whatever grisly order they happen to fall in the book.

So, I was thinking: Hey, my mom cooks. My mom has a Julia Child cookbook or two. She reads blogs. Well, I think she reads this one anyway. Why not get her this J&J book? Which is what I did for Christmas. Had it gift wrapped right at the store and sent it on its merry way to I-O-way. Without opening the book. Well. Here’s a Helpful Holiday Hint: don’t ever DO that. No, no, no. See the cute cover? And note that it seems to be a cookbook? I KNOW. Me, too. What I did not know, until 2 months after I sent it to my sweet, 85 year old, Sunday School teaching mother was this: Julie, sweet 29 year old Julie, swears like a tattooed sailor being led down to the brig. And even when she’s not swearing up a storm, she talks about stuff I would not go near. Not with nobody. Let alone my mother! Even allowing for all that, I have to admit, Julie is one laugh out loud funny funny funny writer. Hysterical. Sometimes, literally hysterical.

ENOUGH WITH THE BOOKS ALREADY

Lets talk booking reservations. Lets talk travel. Calendars seem to say Midge and I may get to go in May. And the Wiley Traveler should be traveling even sooner, in April. So soon, very soon, we’ll all be saying in happy unison . . .

See You In Italy!

Stew