Home again

Originally published on: Oct 27, 2008 

It's been an awkward adjustment to come home, while my thoughts are still focused on the people and places I visited in Italy. I'm already thinking ahead to next year, hoping I can figure out a way to stay longer. One way or another, I'll make it happen.

Sono molto grata...I'm very grateful to the many people who made my journey so rich and memorable, especially Haruko, Domenico and his family, Luigi, Roberto and Michela, Paola, Monica and her family, Paolo, Giovanna, Miwa, Valerie, Bryan, and Melinda. And also to Peter, who provided transport to and from the airport, and Laura, who kept watch over my house while I was gone.

For those of you new to my blog, this was my fourth trip to Italy in the past two years. I've visited more than 25 Italian cities and villages, learned the language and have made numerous friends. I travel cheap, going by train and bus, with a focus on culture immersion rather than the usual tourist route. I'm rarely identified as an American, so I must be doing something right. Though my lodging is inexpensive, I always manage to find comfortable, sometimes even quasi-luxurious accommodations. 

If I can do, so can you!

É finito!

Originally published on: Oct 17, 2008

Ponte Vecchio in the moonlight.

My last few days in Firenze were poignant, as I visited my favorite haunts and spent time with Haruko. I also met with another blogger, Melinda, who moved to Firenze four years ago and has been blogging about life in Florence since that time. Melinda took me to a great cafe, Caffè Giacosa, where we could sit without being charged extra, and we talked for several hours while waves of Italians came and went, quickly sipping their morning espresso and eating dolci, sweet pastries.

Melinda, in front of Caffè Giacosa.

In the afternoon, Haruko and I met up and went to visit a profumeria (perfumery) near the church Santa Maria Novella. We tried many of the scents, which have been made in the same way, from flowers and herbs, for centuries, but I couldn’t bring myself to fork over 70-80 euros for a small bottle of the heavenly scents. Maybe next time!

We walked around town and eventually ended up near the Santa Croce church. While Haruko made a stop at an internet point, I scouted around for a trattoria where we might have lunch. I found one that offered a good bargain: primi e secondi piatti, l’acqua e vino, (first and second course, water and wine) for only 10 euros. Once we entered the restaurant, we both realized it was the same restaurant where we had our final meal together two years ago. Only the decor had changed, and later we learned that the trattoria had changed hands this past August. It’s named after Dante, the famous Florentine poet:¦a name I’m not likely to forget. (I’ve followed Dante’s trail in and around Florence, and then to other cities where he traveled after he was exiled from the city, including San Gimignano, Lucca and Ravenna, where he died.)

In addition, the food was even better than last time. For my first course, I had zuppa di fagioli, a typical Tuscan soup with beans, and Haruko ordered gnocchi, a small dumpling-like pasta. For il secondo, she ate Trippa Fiorentina: a tripe dish that was quite delicious, and I had an exquisite beef dish, Peposa dell’Impruneta. When we left, we told the waiter we had been there two years earlier, and he kissed our hands and wished us a speedier return to his restaurant.

After another visit to a favorite gelateria, we wandered around to our favorite haunts, along the fiume Arno, to view the Ponte Vecchio in the moonlight, Piazza della Repubblica, Piazza della Signoria and the Duomo one last time. Haruko suggested I just not go home, that I could forget about getting to the plane and just stay in Italy. If only! But at least we both feel certain we’ll meet again, and certainly in Italy. Perhaps it will be sooner than either of us thinks possible.

The next morning, I was up at 4 am to catch the shuttle to the airport at 5:30 for my 7 am flight. A woman saw me standing at the bus stop and informed me that the shuttle no longer stopped there…the stop had moved across the street to the train station. I would certainly have missed the bus if not for her warning: once again I had the sense of being looked after.

I easily made my flight to Amsterdam, and endured the transition from the warm, playful chaos of Italy to the efficient, cool reserve of Amsterdam. The contrast worsened when I arrived in Memphis and was bombarded with smells of barbecue and the sloppy attire of my fellow Americans. Already, I missed the sensual, vivacious approach to life that comes naturally in Italy. Life is certainly more voluptuous in Italy, and I feel certain it’s where I belong, if only to learn more about la dolce vita: the sweet life.

It’s taken me a few days to readjust to life in America: it’s cooler and wetter here, and my body rhythms still seem to be on Italian time. I’m wading through the 1000 photos that I made while in Italy, and will post a few of them on this blog throughout the many entries about my journey.

Firenze, Arcetri

Originally published on: Oct 12, 2008 

For my last train ride, I took the Eurostar, which is more expensive, but it’s more comfortable and faster than other trains, makes fewer stops and did not require any train changes along the way. It proved to be a very relaxing two hours, and when I arrived in Firenze, it took me less than ten minutes to arrive at my hotel, the same one I’d stayed in last month, so I was settled in by 3 pm.

Hanging out with Haruko

While on the train, Haruko and I had exchanged text messages, and had made plans to meet that evening, In the meantime, I spent a few hours shopping at the outdoor market in San Lorenzo, not far from my hotel. I managed to negotiate with the vendors so that I got some good bargains. Since it was Friday afternoon, the beginning of what promised to be a beautiful weekend, I expected to see crowds of tourists swarming into town. At my hotel, the rooms were all taken by Americans, and it was an abrupt change to hear English being spoken more than Italian.

Haruko and I met about 5 pm and walked across town to the flat where she’s staying, the same area of town where we first met two years ago, when we were rooming with an Italian woman while attending an immersion school to learn Italian. At Haruko’s flat, we spent a few hours talking, then she prepared a simple but delicious cena (dinner). After several more hours of visiting, I took the bus back to my hotel late that night.

Walking to Arcetri

Saturday morning I decided to try and find Arcetri, where Galileo lived. I had heard there are beautiful views from the hills there, and I wanted to check it out. After having such easy access to the Parco Ducale in Parma, I was missing the presence of trees, not as easy to come by in a city like Florence. I walked up into the hills along a quiet, nearly empty road for several hours, but the view was obscured by walls on both sides of the road. 

Galileo's house.

I finally made it to Arcetri, got a glimpse of the view, and found Galileo’s house on the way back to Florence. After nearly four hours of walking, I decided to treat myself to gelato at Vivoli’s Gelateria, supposedly the best in Florence because they only serve freshly made gelato. It was good, but costly, and I’m not sure it was that much better than the cheaper places in town I’ve been to.

Paola

Saturday evening I was invited to Paola’s house for dinner, but when I arrived, I learned that plans had changed, and instead we were going to a party at one of her friend’s houses. We were picked up by a couple who drove us across town to the party, which turned out to be a feast of food and wines from Puglia, in southern Italy. The husband of the couple who were throwing the party had cooked many of his favorite dishes from Puglia, including meatballs, cavallo (horse), polpo (octopus), pizza with potatoes, lasagna, and many others. With each dish, he also served a different wine, as he is also a wine expert. Naturally, I had to try a bit of everything, and ended up getting stuffed to the gills: uncomfortably so. And after all that, there were desserts and dessert wines to taste as well. After all the food I’ve been eating the past few weeks, I can tell that I’ll need to spend more time dieting once I get home. (addendum: Good news! Instead of gaining, I actually lost several pounds while traveling. Seems like the Italian lifestyle is a good one for me in MANY ways.)

I felt immediately welcome and comfortable in the group of some twenty Italians at the mega cena, including four or five people who could speak English quite well. In the background of the constant conversations going on at the party, there was a video of music and dance from Puglia, which added a nice touch to the evening. This was my first exposure to the food and culture of southern Italy, and I’m thankful to have been included in the festivities.

L'opera a Parma

Originally published on: Oct 12, 2008

Attending the opera in Parma at Teatro Regio was a unique experience, though not one I’m likely to repeat anytime soon, at such an expense ($115). I bought my ticket online before I left, without really knowing how the theater is set up or where my seat would be located. I had seen part of the primo (the premiere) of Rigoletto on la tv a few nights earlier , and I was impressed with the stage presence of the soprano who played the role of Gilda. I was looking forward to seeing her in person, so was disappointed when she did not perform the night I saw Rigoletto. Her replacement was quite good, but she lacked the powerful energy I’d seen in the earlier performance.

My box seat was on the fourth of five levels of boxes (palchi) that curve around the stage. There were three chairs placed near the edge of the box, and two benches behind them. A group of three people were already sitting in the chairs when I arrived, but were instructed to move, since I had paid for one of those chairs. (I got the cane chair, while the others enjoyed the plush velvet chairs that matched the benches: the privilege of arriving early.) The benches were comfortable, but it was impossible to see the stage if one sat there: instead, the third person of that group stood behind us during the performance.

At the first intermission, I was asked where I was from, and once I admitted I was an American, the others were more friendly, even venturing to speak a few words of English. I learned they were from another region of Italy and had traveled to many of the best opera houses in Italy. During the course of the evening, one of the men often sang along with the performers, obviously quite familiar with the lyrics. I was intrigued by the passion of the audience, so eagerly intent during every moment of the performance, and their shouts of bravi and bis (encore) at the end of each act.

I really enjoyed the performance, which was masterfully done by all the performers and the orchestra. Next time I’d like to go to an outdoor performance, like they have in Verona or Rome, where the seats are more reasonably priced. Haruko has been to the Verona arena several times and has raved to me about it. But I’m glad to have had the chance to attend a first rate opera in a first rate opera house.

After the performance, I met up with Paolo and his family, who had also attended, and we were taken backstage, a privilege due to Paolo’s standing in the community. Then we went out for a quick pizza, and it was nearly midnight when we got back to the Palace.

With Paolo at Palazzo Ducale.

On my last morning in Parma, I walked around the centro storico (historic center) and hung out in the Parco Ducale one last time. The park was a comfort, an inspiration and a solace to me during my stay.

in Paradiso: Parma and Modena

Originally published on: Oct 10, 2008

I can't help it....it seems like I'm in paradise, and I don't want to leave. It's that simple.

Parco Ducale

At the moment, I'm in Parco Ducale...it's a beautiful fall day in Parma. On days like this, people come to the park to hang out with each other. Not to do anything in particular...just hang out. Retired men gather in the afternoons at the same bench and engage in passionate discussions. Many, like me, come to take advantage of the free wi-fi system. People stroll by, arm-in-arm, or ride by on old-fashioned bicycles, usually with a basket at the front. Huge chestnut trees are everywhere, shedding not only leaves but their fruit, and no one comes to clear anything away, so the ground is covered with a multi-colored blanket of leaves and chestnuts.

Earlier in the day, I went to the Correggio exhibit that is one of the main attractions in Parma this year. I haven't been to many museums on this trip, but I'm glad I made it to this exhibit. Before going to the main hall, there are two massive churches with Correggio frescoes to view. Elaborate scaffolding is set up to enable people to get nearly close enough to touch the frescoes that are painted on the ceilings of the cupolas of the churches. Hands down, this was my favorite part of the attraction. But after that, I spent nearly two hours more viewing the rest of the exhibit, which included paintings by Correggio collected in museums all over the world and gathered together for this exhibit in Parma.

The Coreggio exhibit.

After this feast for the eyes, I decided to treat myself to a Parmesan specialty, tortelli di zucca. This pasta is somewhat similar to ravioli: it's stuffed with pumpkin and served with a bit of butter and freshly grated Parmesan cheese, nothing more. Exquisite! I also ordered a quarto (quarter of a liter) of red wine, and had a leisurely meal in an outdoor cafe on Piazza Garibaldi, watching other diners and enjoying the day. Next door to the cafè there's an exhibit of photos from the Verdi opera, La Traviata, and music from the opera easily heard from powerful loudspeakers. For me, this is paradise.

I can't adequately express how different life is in Italy, how deeply this country affects me, or how painful the thought of leaving it is. During these five weeks, I've met more than fifty people, and I can't imagine that it might be another year before I'll see any of them again. It's just not right.

Giovanna in Modena

Yesterday I took a day trip with another new friend, Giovanna, to Modena, renowned both for its balsamic vinegar and as the birthplace of Luciano Pavarotti. I'd heard that Giovanna had recently moved to Parma from KC, and called her earlier in the week to see if we might meet. We spent the next two afternoons together, and I enjoyed having someone to travel with for a change. Giovanna's husband is a native of Parma and they decided their three kids might benefit from living near their grandparents and going to school in Italy.

Piazza Grande, Modena

Modena is thirty minutes from Parma by train, and proved to be a good choice for a day trip. It reminds me of a smaller, quieter Bologna. We wandered the streets, visited the main sights and had a leisurely lunch. You may have gathered by now that in Italy, meals are eaten leisurely more often than not. Businesses close for 3-4 hours and one can easily spend two hours at lunch, chatting with friends, never hurried along by waiters to eat and run, as is usually the case in the States.

Tonight I'm headed for the opera, my first experience with this Italian tradition, on my last night in Parma. Tomorrow I leave for Firenze and a few days to visit friends before heading back to the States.

Parma

Originally published on: Oct 7, 2008

When I arrived in Parma, it was a nice sunny day, and I easily made my way from the station to the Palazzo Ducale, familiar with the route from my stay there last year. I stopped at the Carabinieri Commando station to get the key to my suite, and quickly got settled. I have the same suite I had last year, comfy and spacious. My friend Paolo tells me that the mayor wants to relocate the Carabinieri headquarters so the Palace could be open for public use, so this will probably be the last chance I’ll have to stay here.

Palazzo Ducale

After settling in, I walked down to the tourist information center to find out about internet options, and learned there is a free wi-fi system in Parma, the first I’ve come across on my travels this year. The only drawback is that you have to be willing to sit outside in order to use it. As long as the weather stays nice, that should be no problem. Today I read my email while sitting on a bench in the Parco Ducale, surrounded by chestnut trees that are shedding not only leaves but chestnuts. It was quite pleasant. After four weeks without much internet access, I’m almost unwilling to have it again, it’s been a relief to be oblivious to what’s going on in the world.

Parco Ducale.

The next day, Paolo invited me to attend la partita di calcio, an Italian soccer game. Why not? It was between Parma and Modena, who are bitter rivals, but Parma performed poorly, so I didn’t get a chance to see the kind of brawl that often develops during these games. What I enjoyed most was hearing the steady chanting of the fans, quite musical and strong, that went on throughout the game. Paolo said that those same fans can become quite brutal when they are enraged over a game’s outcome.

Calcio a Parma.

After the game, I went to the Piazza del Duomo, where the preliminaries to Parma’s Palio were going on. People were strolling the area in medieval costumes, serving samples of foods, demonstrating creative skills and playing instruments from that time. It was quite festive, and the streets were crowded with people out for their weekend stroll. It was quite a contrast to the quiet day at the beach of a few days ago,

The Duomo.

The next day, there were hours of parades, as the five different quarters of the city strolled through town in medieval costume as a preliminary to the Palio, which turned out to be a short competition between three groups representing the five areas of the city: men, women and donkeys. Due to the crowds lining the street, I never got to see the men and women running the course, but I had a quick glimpse of the reluctant donkeys being pulled by ropes to compete in their portion of the event.

I’ve spent the last few days exploring the parks in Parma. The weather has been lovely, and people really enjoy the parks here, not to do anything specific, but just to hang out in. I enjoy observing this pastime, which seems quite different than the American habit of being in the park to do something specific, like going to the playground, playing frisbee or having a picnic. Here people just hang out together: talking, strolling and enjoying the weather.

Today I’m meeting with an American who recently moved here from Kansas City, and later in the week I’ll attend the opera Rigoletto. It’s the real deal, and my first time to see an Italian opera, so I’m looking forward to that experience. However, I was sadly disillusioned about my capacity to be stylish in Italy: there are too many beautiful, young and effortlessly stylish people everywhere I go! I might be making progress in the art of wearing scarves, but that’s about all I can manage this time around. I watched the primi (premiere) of Rigoletto on tv last night and am thankful I wasn’t in that crowd: they were really dressed to the nines! I’ve been told casual dress is also acceptable, but fortunately I brought some dress-up clothes that should suffice.

After the opera, I return to Florence to hang out with friends for a few days before my return home next week. Five weeks still seems all too short a time to be in Italy!

Grottammare

Originally published on: Oct 5, 2008

Michela, Michael and Roberto

Before I left Ascoli, I met with Roberto, Michela and Michael again. The four of us walked around the city for several hours, then Michael and I went out to dinner while Roberto and Michela headed for home. Before they left, Roberto took us to a restaurant he especially liked, and told the the waiters to serve us a meal of typical dishes of the region. It was another Italian feast, and quite delicious. Michael and I enjoyed both the meal and the conversation and feel indebted to Roberto for his generous attention during our stay in Ascoli.

The next morning I had my first experience calling a taxi, and managed just fine. I took a bus to Grottammare, and when I got off, Domenico was there to help me find the hotel. After I got settled in and walked around the town a bit, I went to the beach, just a few blocks from the hotel. It was a warm, sunny day, but the beach was nearly empty, and it seemed as if I had the coastline all to myself. During July and August, the town's usual size of 15,000 people doubles, but most of the year it is quiet, and I really enjoyed the tranquility.

On the beach in Grottammare.

Later that evening, Domenico returned and we walked along the Lungomare, a wide path that rims the beach, and is lined on either side with huge palm trees. We always seem to have a lot to talk about, and he helped to encourage my use of Italian while I was in his town by having these evening chats together.

The Lungomare.

The next day I decided to trek up to the old city, where Domenico had taken me the week before in the rain. Not many people live in this part of Grottammare, but it has a rich history. It's perched on a hill overlooking the coast, and the wall and towers built to defend the city were helpful for scouting and warding off pirates who came from the east. I spent several hours exploring the medieval streets that were nearly empty of people. After that, I returned to the beach and spent the afternoon there, enjoying the warm sun and the sound of the waves. It felt like a bit of paradise.

In the evening, Domenico came for another walk and chat along the Lungomare, then we walked to his mother's house, not far from my hotel. His younger sister, Ester, was also there, and the four of us had a lovely meal together, of tortellini and beef, peas, pickled eggplant and artichokes (I happen to like artichokes, which are common and plentiful in Italian dishes). This sweet Italian family made me feel truly welcome and it was a real pleasure to spend a few hours in their home.

Domenico with his mother and sister Cinzia.

The next morning I went out for a coffee, and when I strolled by the house of Domenico's mother, she waved to me and invited me in for coffee. She and Ester bustled around to prepare coffee latte and biscotti for me, though they had already finished their own breakfast. Without Domenico there, I was on my own to communicate only in Italian, but we managed well enough. I feel as if I forged a special connection with this family.

After making so many connections in Ascoli and Grottammare, this is the area I'm most interested in spending more in on my next visit to Italy. Two days by the sea simply wasn't enough. I'm thinking two months might be nice. I inquired about some inexpensive lodging while I was there, and found several options that seem promising.

Later in the morning, Domenico, always the gentleman, picked me up and accompanied me to San Benedetto, a few miles south, where the main train station for the area is located. It was so nice to have help with my luggage, which seems to get heavier as I continue my journey through Italy. I'm really grateful to Domenico for the many kindnesses shown to me while I was in Grottammare, especially since he's quite busy this semester finishing an engineering degree. I felt sad to be leaving the warmth of area: both the people and the beach.

I was warned that the train would probably be more crowded than the previous trains I'd been on, and this proved to be true. I was able to find a seat for the first several hours, but then had to stand once we arrived in Bologna and people with reserved seats claimed their stake to the seat I was in. By this time, the aisles were filled with people standing by their luggage, but I didn't mind, as it only lasted an hour and gave me a better view of the landscape we were passing by. This time I didn't have to change trains, and the 4½ hour ride seemed to go by fast, taking me north and west to Parma.

Ascoli Piceno

Originally published on: Sep 30, 2008

I'm starting to think of this area, Ascoli Piceno and Le Marche region of Italy, as another place I'd like to live. Even with the cold and rain, it has a unique charm and is nearly devoid of tourists, especially Americans. Now that I know my way around, I'm enjoying taking part in the events that the town has to offer. For instance, on Sunday I felt the urge to get to the main square, Piazza del Popolo. I'd been there the night before to attend a seminar on, of all things, Japan. There was a demonstration of a Japanese tea ceremony and martial arts, but the main reason I went was to hear several Puccini arias from his Asian-themed operas, Turandot and Madama Butterfly. The soprano who performed was quite good, her voice clear and strong, even when competing with the sound of the bells in the nearby tower chiming the hour.

When I arrived at the piazza Sunday morning, there was a buzz of excitement and I knew something special was going on, but had no idea what it would be. There were many men with plumed hats on, covered with black grouse feathers. After a while, one of them urged the crowd forward to make room for four squads of brass bands. Once again, I was in the midst of a special, yearly event. This one was called La Fanfara di Bersaglieri.

Basically, military squads of brass bands jog to the center of the piazza in formation and face each other to have a competition of sorts, each band showing off their talents. Each squad had a different kind of uniform, and there were even some women in the squads, with each squad member sporting a plumed hat. I was thrilled to be one of the crowd witnessing the event, which went on for about an hour. The squads represented different towns of the Marche region, and Ascoli's squad was clearly the best band, playing more creative and complicated tunes than the others in attendance.

After the event, people ambled around in the square, or moved on to the larger Arringo Piazza, where there was a market going on. I saw many people with their "pastry packets"...gift-wrapped plates of pastries that will be served at the family Sunday dinner. I noticed this tradition in Urbino last year, another town in Le Marche region. People routinely stop in at the pasticceria (pastry store) after Sunday mass to purchase pastries for dinner. Each plate of pastries is wrapped in bright colored paper and tied with ribbons , so it looks as if they are carrying gifts. With many people walking around carrying these packages, it looks quite festive.

Over the next hour, the crowds began to dissipate, and by 2 pm, the streets were virtually empty. For a town with some 60,000 residents, this seemed rather odd to me. But in Ascoli, it's par for the course on Sunday afternoon. On this day, there was also an environmental incentive going on....cars were banned from the streets of Ascoli to encourage the use of bicycles and walking. So for several hours yesterday, the streets were quite empty, except for a few tourists like me, wandering the streets with their cameras. I seemed to be the only English-speaking tourist, however....most of the others were Italians. I enjoyed walking the empty streets, ambling down interesting, medieval alleys, enjoying the sense of having the town to myself.

In the evening, people were filling the piazza again, and I'd made plans to meet an American couple for an apertivo. Bryan and Valerie moved here two years ago from New Mexico and have each been recording their experiences of becoming assimilated into Italian life on separate blogs. They also offer tours of the areas to the few Americans that come to this part of Italy. Since I don't know much about the Italian habit of stimulating the digestion with apertivi, I invited them to clue me in.

Valerie and Bryan

Each of them ordered a different type of wine that is from this region and I ordered a special liquor, made in Ascoli, called Anisetta Meletti. In fact, the place we were at, Caffe Meletti, created the drink, and boasts the same decor that it had one hundred years ago. With my anisetta came a small bowl of mosca, tiny coffee beans, which one spoons into the anisetta to bring out the flavor, and a plate of tiny cookies. The wine was accompanied by a plate of snacks.

The three of us talked for nearly three hours about our travels, our love of Italy, the highs and lows of living here, and as a result, it turned out to be another great evening for me. I learned a lot about life in Ascoli and enjoyed hearing their stories of exploring Southern Italy, an area I've yet to tackle. The cafè had been crowded when we arrived, but over the course of our conversation, the cafè emptied as people returned home for the evening meal, usually served after 8 pm. Now I have another connection here in Ascoli, and it's becoming clearer that I'm likely to return to this area of Italy for a longer stay in the future. With a variety of friends in the area, access to an affordable apartment and the sea nearby, perche non.....er, why not?

Cafè Meletti

Monday I found a cafè that offers free wifi access if you order something, so I had a cappuccino and was finally able to get some of my online work completed. In the evening I met with another penpal, Roberto, and his daughter Michela. Roberto also had another penpal from England visiting this week, Michael, a city planner who came to study some of the oldest buildings in the region. The four of us visited some of these structures, then went to a pizzeria for dinner. Both Roberto and Michela speak English well; they also study German and French. I was impressed with Michela and her mature perspective on life. Besides linguistics, she is also interested in psychology, and has been reading Freud on her own to understand the beginnings of this science. We will meet again tonight to talk some more.

Michela and Roberto

Tomorrow I move on to Grottammare, to spend several days near the beach along the Adriatic Coast. The sun returned yesterday and will hopefully continue to warm L e Marche for the rest of my stay here. On Friday, I'm off to northern Italy and Parma. As you can tell from these posts, my journey this time has been made richer by the many connections I've made, and I'm not eager to consider how long it might be before I see most of these friends again.

Ascoli Piceno/Grottammare

Originally published on: Sep 28, 2008

I hope those of you who were hoping for emails will forgive me, as my time is limited on the internet in the small towns where I'm staying. I am writing at great length on my computer, but have had few chances to upload my stories to the blog. Wi-fi access is almost impossible to come by. But I will share the details, all in good time. Suffice it to say that I'm having some wonderful adventures, making new friends and continually having interesting challenges. Each time I figure things out, learn something new or make a new connection, it seems life becomes that much richer. I also have scary moments now and then, I guess I should be honest about that.

I'm now in a region where there are few English speakers, so I must rely on Italian for every little thing I do. My brain started switching gears to Italian a few days ago when I spent several hours conversing with a nun on the train, then another six hours with a friend that I visited. Today I was thrilled to manage buying food at the market, ordering a bit of this and a bit of that ...fresh meat, cheese, fruit, vegies, olives, etc., all in Italian. I have a small apartment here in Ascoli, with a small kitchen, and am now managing to cook my own Italian meals. It has been raining most of the time that I've been here, which is a real drag, as it's also been cool. One is not supposed to turn on their heat in Ascoli until the first of November (this rule applies almost everywhere in Italy, though the dates may vary), so I haven't had heat in my apartment.

A view of the terrace outside my apartment in Ascoli.

Yesterday afternoon my friend Domenico picked me up in Ascoli and drove me to his town, about 30 minutes away. Domenico lives in Grottammare, a small town on the Adriatic Coast that is popular in the summer, but during other months of the year, it slows down to a crawl. Domenico and I have conversed on Skype nearly every week for more than a year and have developed a good friendship in that time, feeling at ease with each other from the start.

We walked around town in the rain for several hours, as Domenico shared the highlights of Grottammare, past and present, with me. We drove up to the old part of town, where few people live, to view a panoramic vista of the coast and the beaches below.

Then we walked around the center of the newer part of town, checking out hotels where I might stay later in the week. After stopping at three of them, we found one with the right price, just a block from the beach. We stopped in to meet his mother and one of his sisters, and later arrived at his house, where a sumptuous dinner awaited us, cooked by his mother-in-law. I was introduced to his wife, his sister-in-law, his niece and nephew and his parents-in-law, and was given a place of honor at an elegant dinner table.

The first course was olive all'ascolare, a specialty of the region. Tender olives are stuffed with a combination of meats, dipped in breadcrumbs and then deep-fried in olive oil. Yummy but rich! This was served with vitello crudo, slices of raw beef. The next course was lasagna, with very fine pasta, not the thick, gummy noodles that one finds in the States. Following that was another pasta dish, similar to spaghetti, with a simple tomato sauce (ragu).

With each course, I ate less, as I had eaten quite a few olive all'ascolare and am not used to eating so much food at one meal. There was also white wine, served from a pitcher, and Domenico filled my glass each time it became empty. The final course of the evening was vitello con funghi porcini, thin slices of roast beef with a sauce of mushrooms. I only managed to eat the mushrooms and a few bites of the meat.

But this wasn't the end of the meal. In a few minutes, the children brought in a lemony, pudding-like cake, covered with whipped cream and a few blackberries, while everyone sang, Tanti Auguri (best wishes) to me. This dessert was accompanied by a sweet champagne. How could I not be honored by such a welcome, and such a feast? I was truly touched by their open generosity. Is it any wonder that I enjoy visiting my Italian friends? I only hope that someday I can return the favor when some of them come to the States.

Rieti

Originally published on: Sep 28, 2008

After leaving Orvieto, I had a challenging journey to reach Ascoli Piceno, and learned that traveling east to west in the central part of Italy can be exasperating. From Orvieto, I took a 30-minute train to Orte, where I had to wait an hour for another 30-minute ride to Terni. At the Terni station, I had a 90-minute wait for the connection to Rieti. Fortunately, I struck up a conversation with a nun, Suore Maurizia, and we continued talking all the way to Rieti, a 45-minute journey. Each train was smaller than the last one, and the final one was only two cars, traveling through many tunnels cut into the hills of the countryside that we passed through.

The Ruggeri family.

I had a nice time in Rieti with Monica, a woman I met through the Italian club in KC last year. Monica and her family lived in KC for two years and I had only met her once before, but she was very welcoming and generous to me while I was in Rieti. I had to stop there to get a bus for the last part of my trip to Ascoli, and it gave me the chance to visit Monica.

I spent the afternoon with Monica, her mother and three children: Virginia, Camilla and Tommaso. I really enjoyed observing the life of this Italian family. The girls arrived home about 1 pm, the usual time that school ends for the day. (In Italy, children often attend school six days a week. ) Monica's mother fixed us a fabulous meal of pasta, meat, salad, bread, and wine, followed by a dessert of fresh fruit. After this, Monica served us coffee on the terrace in delicate espresso cups made of hand-painted china.

Roofs in Rieti.

Then we took a tour on foot of Rieti, walking around the center of town while Monica pointed out the highlights to me, and then treated us all to gelato. All in all, I spent six hours in Rieti before I had to catch the bus. I really don't know how I would have managed getting from the train station, finding the place to buy the ticket for the bus or get to the correct bus stop without Monica's help. She even waited with me at the bus stop when the bus was fifteen minutes late. I feel fortunate that every time I get in a tight spot like that, someone shows up to help me out. What's more, Monica has an American friend who lives in Parma that I will contact while I'm there next week. I keep making more connections as I go.

The Velino river, with the Sabine mountains in the background.

I didn't get to Ascoli until 9:30 pm, after a two-hour ride in a crowded bus, and the owner of the B&B came to pick me up at the train station...another gift, as otherwise I would have had to find my way in the dark and the cold across town. I haven't had that kind of service anywhere else in Italy before, but it sure was nice. My cell phone has also really come in handy...for connecting with my Italian friends and the places I'm staying, either by making calls or sending text messages. All in all, today was a long but interesting day of travel.