Bits and pieces: Castel Gandalfo, Firenze, Lago di Garda, Mantova, Parma, Rome, Sirmione, Sorrento, Zagarolo

Originally published on: Oct 12, 2009

Here I am in Sorrento, tucked away in a cabin-like room high above the city with a panoramic view of the Amalfi Coast. Or I will have when the clouds move out of the way.  On the bus ride up the hill, it started pouring rain, but it stopped by the time I had to get off the bus. The steep stone path leading to the hotel, which is some distance away, had streams of water gushing down, impeding my progress with my luggage. I left many things (books, heavy clothes, etc.) in the closet at Lidia’s house in Rome, where I will return at the end of the week. It’s been warm during my entire stay in Italy, and I’ve hardly even needed a jacket. But the weather seems to be changing today.

There is a large window beside my bed, overlooking a garden filled with fruit and olive trees: the olives have just been harvested and are collected in bins around the yard. It’s a bit early for harvesting, but it seems they decided to trim the trees and collected the olives before cutting the limbs.

It was somewhat of a convoluted journey to get to Sorrento.  I stayed with Lidia last night in Rome, and this morning she and Carlo drove me to the Metro to take the subway to get to Termini, the main train station. I caught a train to Naples, which took about 2 hours. From Naples, I took another train, called the Circumvesuviana, which took another hour, making about twenty stops along the way. Once I arrived in Sorrento, I was put off by the crowds of tourists, who seem to be mainly Germans, Brits and Americans. I guess I’m getting to be somewhat of a snob, as I prefer to be around Italians when I’m in Italy.

Time to backtrack a little, just a short overview of what I’ve been up to.

Parma:  Pietro drove Renata and I to Mantova and Lago di Garda and the town of Sirmione one day. I enjoyed the ride through the countryside north of Parma. The next day, Renata and I took the train to Bologna, but we were both put off by the noise and the crowds, so we only stayed a few hours and returned to Parma after meeting up with her daughter, Francesca.

The next night I met up with Marco, a pediatrician, and his wife, Marvi. They drove from the nearby town of Modena, and we spent the evening together, eating a great meal at an outdoor cafè, laughing a lot, then having gelato while we walked along the streets of Parma’s historical center. I had planned to walk back to Renata’s house, but I had too much wine and Marco insisted on driving me instead, which turned out to be another adventure, first trying to hail a taxi to get to Marco’s car (for some reason, it was almost impossible to get one), then trying to find Renata’s house from a map, all while feeling a bit drunk. But I arrived safe and sound and really enjoyed my time with Marco and Marvi.

The next day, Renata and I rode bikes downtown to meet Giovanna for espresso at the same outdoor cafè I’d been to the night before. I was introducing the two of them to each other. When Renata had to leave an hour later, Giovanna and I strolled around Parma for a while, then I spent another few hours riding around town to the various parks I enjoy. Unfortunately, every time I tried sitting on one of the park benches, swarms of mosquitoes showed up to ruin my enjoyment of the day. They’ve been frequent visitors on this trip, as the weather continues to be mild and warmer than usual in Italy.

Firenze : I left Parma on Friday to spend the day with Haruko in Firenze. Renata was leaving for a long weekend in France with her sisters, so it seemed a good time to move on. Haruko and I had a great time walking around our favorite areas, eating lunch and gelato, then hanging out on the terrace at my hotel. In the evening there was a thunderstorm, complete with thunder and lightning, which was something I had not experienced before in Italy. Even though Florence was noisy and crowded, it was nice to be in such a familiar place again. I’m thankful that the hotel I usually stay at had a room available on such short notice, they even gave me a double room for the price of a single, since I’m a regular guest and they didn’t have a single available.

Il Bargellino

Zagarolo : On Saturday, I took the train to Rome, then another to Zagarolo, to meet up with Deborah, who needs a house-sitter while she travels next year. She has a lovely house out in the country, and a large yard filled with olive and fruit trees, including cherry, fig, and pomegranate. One of the neighbors harvests the olives each year and gives Deborah a few bottles of olive oil after it’s been processed. Across the road is a small vineyard that produces a white wine called Tufaio. We met with the owner, a friend of Deborah’s and we sampled a bottle, along with biscotti. If I’m around in the fall, I can help with the vendemmia, or wine production. Deborah and I hit it off well, as we have many similar interests, habits, and ways of thinking. She prepared several wonderful meals for me and really made me feel welcome in her home. I met her cats and rabbit, who are the main reason she needs a house-sitter while she is gone. At the end of my stay, we agreed that I will come for several months in the spring when she wants to travel to Mongolia.

After five visits to Italy where I’ve spent most of my time moving from place to place, I’m eager to stay in one spot and see what it’s like. Living in the country will be a different kind of experience, but one I’m ready to tackle.

Rome : On Sunday, I caught the train back to Rome, and the metro out to the EUR district, where Lidia and Carlo live. After I stashed my bags at their place, we drove to a lake 15 miles southeast of Rome, Lago di Castel Gandalfo. Overlooking the lake is Castel Gandolfo, where the Pope has his summer villa. A friend of theirs, Carlo’s first English teacher from many years ago, lives near the lake, and we met up with him there. On the way back to Rome, we got stuck in the long line of traffic, a common occurrence on the weekends, when Romans leave the city for the day and then all try to return at the same time on Sunday evening. Carlo referred to it as “traffico bestiale”. Once back at their flat, we had a lovely dinner, and I got to meet their daughter Yuli.

Sorrento : I went into town for the afternoon, which is a good distance away from my hotel. I walked down the hill instead of taking the bus, and it soon became clear that a storm was brewing. Huge black clouds and fierce winds were followed by rain, and the temperature dropped by at least 10 degrees: too bad I left my warm clothes at Lidia’s house. When I decided to return to the hotel, the bus did not show up, and several of us were left wondering what had happened. Finally someone told us that the piazza is closed to traffic after 7:30, and we would need to walk to another bus stop to catch it. We walked at least a half mile, and waited another 15 minutes before one arrived. I was the last one on the bus, and it dropped me off in a different location than where I’d come before, forcing me to walk along a steep, dark drive for another 10 minutes, with the wind howling around me. It’s the creepiest experience I’ve ever had in Italy,there were no lights, no people, no indication of where I was or where I was going. Finally, I reached the hotel and my little cabin. I don’t think I’ll be staying out after dark again while I’m here.

Amalfi and Ravello

Originally published on: Nov 21, 2009

Ravello turned out to be one of the most incredible places I visited this year.

Infinity Terrace, Ravello

After a rainy day in Positano, I was overjoyed the next morning when I awoke to a clear day. I watched the sunrise from my hotel window as the coastline emerged from the darkness. I ate a sumptuous breakfast, part of the package at most Italian hotels, and set out early for Amalfi, the largest town along the coast. I had bought my bus tickets the previous day, so was able to catch the bus outside the hotel. I waited with an Australian couple...and waited, and waited. Finally, after about thirty minutes, we heard the musical honking of the bus as it maneuvered around one of the curves of the road.

All along the Amalfi Coast, from morning until night, you can hear buses honking to warn other vehicles of their presence, as the road is barely wide enough to manage two cars, much less two buses at the same time. For the most part, traffic flows smoothly along the coastal highway, but there are times when two buses going in opposite directions arrive at the same point on one of the highway curves, and it is simply not possible for them both to make the curve at the same time: one of them must back up to allow enough room for the other to pass. But it seems to be done as a matter of course, taken in stride as part of the travel experience along the coastal road. I had read numerous accounts of the 'scary' drive along the coast, but I did not find it to be so: in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was awe-inspiring to be able to view the coastline from the edge of the road, and it reminded me of driving along the California coast near Big Sur.

Amalfi

The bus arrived in Amalfi about 11 am, and I headed for the center of town where the Duomo sits, with its magnificent colored facade. Many buses from Sorrento and Salerno were arriving at the same time, filled with tourists from tour groups and cruises. Ick! As they began to fill the streets, shopping for souvenirs and limoncello, I decided to move on to Ravello, hoping to be ahead of the crowds now visiting Amalfi.

Amalfi's Duomo

I caught another bus, and arrived in Ravello, which sits at the top of a hill and has incredible panoramic views of the coast. There are two villas with gardens to visit, and most people opt to see Villa Rufolo, the one closest to the bus stop. Instead, I headed across town to find Villa Cimbrone, along a stone path that led me past many terraced gardens and vineyards. It was about noon by this time, but I saw few people along the route, which took about 20 minutes to walk.

Small vineyard in Ravello.

When I arrived at Villa Cimbrone, I was one of the few people there. I'm not sure why it is such a thrill for me when this happens, but to be in one of the most beautiful settings in the world and have it all to myself is one of the great pleasures of my life. I was there, on the Terrace of the Infinite, alone, for nearly 30 minutes. Incredible! I know most people prefer to share moments like this with other people…but I prefer to see beautiful landscapes by myself, at least the first time. If other people are around, they are usually talking, and it distracts me from paying attention to the details of the experience. In the past, I used to think how much better it would be to have someone to share such things with. But when I have been with other people, even loved ones, I found I enjoyed it less. Sometimes I found others have even ruined the experience for me with their chatter or because they didn't enjoy it as much as I did, and wanted to move on.

The view from Villa Cimbrone is phenomenal.  After a while, more people started arriving in the gardens, and I headed back to the main part of town. Oh boy, was it crowded! The cruise buses had arrived, and hordes of people were streaming into Villa Rufolo. I decided not to go in, as it seemed impossible that it could compare with the beauty I'd seen from Villa Cimbrone. As it is with most places, I feel certain I will return in the future, so I don't feel the necessity of cramming every sight in. I will see Villa Rufolo another time.

On the way back to the town center, I stopped at one point to sample some freshly made limoncello and bought a small bottle of the potent liqueur to give to my friends in Rome. It was exquisite, the best I have ever tasted, and I wish I had a gallon of it here at home! (Later, Lidia gave me a recipe, as it is quite simple to make: maybe I'll try it next summer.)

I headed back to Amalfi, wandered along the main streets, and found a deli that served insalata al mare, a salad of seafood that was incredibly delicious. Accompanied with foccaccia and a bottle of water, I had a wonderful meal sitting at an outdoor table in the main piazza across from the duomo.

Lunch in Amalfi.

Amalfi is a town I would like to explore more in the future, but I was ready to head back to Praiano by 4 pm, and wanted to beat the crowds that would soon be headed back to Sorrento. Sure enough, there was a line of people waiting for the bus, and we ended up waiting more than an hour. I ended up on the same bus with the Australian couple I'd met that morning, which was a lucky thing, as they knew where to get off on the way back. The bus was pretty crowded, with people standing in the aisles, so I was glad we would be getting off quickly.

In Praiano, I dropped my things off at the hotel and trekked into town, hoping to catch the sunset from the western end of town. I was not disappointed. I sat near the town center, near a group of elderly men having a lively discussion. Below me, children were happily playing ball in the piazza near the duomo. I watched the sun set for nearly an hour, enjoying the ambiance of the village life, the pealing of the church bells, the beauty of the seascape before me. A little bit of paradise.

Praiano, Positano

Originally published on: Oct 27, 2009

Praiano turned out to be the jewel on the Amalfi Coast that I was hoping it would be. There were no tourist shops to speak of, and very few tourists: just a small, quiet town nestled between Positano and Amalfi along one of the most beautiful coasts in the world. In fact, the Amalfi Coast is one of UNESCO’s World Heritage sites, and after spending a few days there, it’s easy to see why. The beauty is staggering, phenomenal, and ever-present. (On a side note, there are more World Heritage sites in Italy than any other country in the world!) The hotel I stayed at, La Perla, was another gem, and from my room I had a lovely view of the Atlantic Ocean and the coastline to the east. On several mornings I watched the sun rise from my window, and I could track the movement of the traffic along the road below me, winding its way along the coast to Amalfi and beyond.

sunrise over Praiano

After an hour’s bus ride from Sorrento, I arrived in Praiano around noon on Thursday, a cloudy day that threatened rain. An online tourist site had warned me that my hotel was far from the town center, so I asked the bus driver to drop me off at the hotel instead. However, he either misunderstood me or didn’t seem to know what I was talking about, and I found myself left at the town center with no idea of where my hotel was or how to get there. (Bad planning on my part, I usually have these things mapped out in advance.) But I’ve become used to asking locals for help, and I asked someone for directions. I learned I was on the right road, and needed to continue on it for another 2 km. Having learned the hard way that Italians often underestimate distance and quantity, I doubled the distance in my mind, figuring I had a two-mile walk ahead of me, dragging my luggage behind me.

Destination: La Perla Hotel

It was not an unpleasant walk, as I was on the coast road, with breathtaking panoramic views at every step. However, the road was small and traffic whizzed by me: cars, buses, and motorcycles, often forcing me to snuggle against the rocky side of the road. I walked and walked and walked, stopping now and then to admire the view. At one point there was a grotto-like area where a miniature version of the town was represented, complete with small houses, streets and trees.

Grotto

Finally, after about 45 minutes, I saw a sign for the hotel, up a steep incline on my left. La Perla turned out to be one of the nicer hotels I stayed at on this trip, similar to the hotels I stayed at in Grottammare and Rieti. There was a lounge area complete with a large-screen TV (the Germans seem to like this!) and a restaurant with a terrace overlooking the coastline.

Restaurant Terrace

After getting settled in at the hotel, I took off again, hoping to visit Positano that afternoon. I would need to take a bus and backtrack about ten miles down the coast. I asked a hotel clerk where to buy a bus ticket. No problem, it’s just around the corner from the hotel. (In Italy, one usually buys bus tickets at coffee bars, newsstands or tabacchi shops, which sell candy, cigarettes, phone cards, etc.) However, the tabacchi shop near the hotel was closed for the lunch/siesta/riposo time, which can last from 2-4 hours. So, I had to walk back to the town center: it only took 30 minutes without my luggage. I managed to find another tabacchi shop open, but was told that the SITA bus tickets (a regional service) to Positano were only sold at a nearby cafè closed until 2:30. Just my luck! Arrghh! These kinds of delays are common in Italy, and one learns to plan ahead or go with the flow: sometimes there’s a logic to the rules one encounters, sometimes it’s more of a dance, and sometimes it’s simply bureaucratic nonsense.

As I was walking by the bus stop, looking defeated, I struck up a conversation with a British couple. They seemed to know the lay of the land, so to speak, and informed me that I could buy bus tickets on a local route when I got on the bus. In addition, the local bus was cheaper and ran more frequently than the SITA bus. They happened to have several extra tickets on hand they did not need, and sold them to me just as the bus pulled into view. I am often blessed by synchronicity like this on my travels: people show up unexpectedly to help me. It’s a wonder that I ever bother worrying about anything, since dilemmas usually seem to resolve themselves, without any effort on my part, if I will let them.

Positano

After a ten-minute ride on the local bus, I found myself in Positano, a picturesque village that is one of the most popular spots on the Amalfi coast, and has been featured as a background in several movies, including Under the Tuscan Sun. Well, I don’t get it. Sure, it’s picturesque, but the main draw is in its nightlife and in the realm of fashion. Not my scene on either account. Positano seemed little more than a few steep, winding streets lined with expensive stores geared to tourist tastes and women’s fashion.

Handmade sandals in this store!

There is a small, black pebble-lined beach, but it was starting to rain by the time I reached it. And since there were few other obvious attractions, and I was already tired from walking several hours, I decided to return to Praiano. It might be a fun place to visit on a sunny day, or during the summer when there is an active nightlife. I understand there is also a beautiful church worth seeing there. On this day, however, I only spent a few hours in Positano.

Another view of Positano, with its Duomo. 

Thankfully, on the bus back to Praiano, I was able to ride all the way to my hotel, and that evening ate a wonderful meal of pasta and white wine at the hotel. The wine served to soothe my jagged nerves and ignore the noisy antics of a table full of German men sitting nearby.

Getting my bearings in an unfamiliar town is always a challenge and somewhat of a thrill for me, once I figure things out. And in the case where my hotel is 30 minutes from the town center, it often feels like a major victory. After many hours of walking, I was ready to relax and rest up for the next day’s adventure: Amalfi and Ravello. A sunny day was forecast that Friday, and I wanted to make the most of it.

Capri, Sorrento

 Originally published on: Oct 14, 2009

I am feeling fonder of Sorrento today, after a great trip to the nearby island of Capri. For one thing, I really like the place I’m staying, even though it’s far from the city center. I have a lovely view of olive and orange trees in the garden, and the bay of Napoli in the distance. Great wifi connection. And for the price (35 euros), it’s an amazing deal.

My cabin in Sorrento.

Now that I know my way around, the bus is no problem. And though it’s cooler, there’s still plenty of sun. Many people are walking around in shorts and sandals:.it’s in the 60’s, but still jacket weather for me.

Approaching Capri on the hydrofoil.

I took the hydrofoil to Capri at 9:15 this morning, and arrived on the island a half hour later. I referred to Rick Steve’s information, and headed by bus quickly to Anacapri, on the other side of the island. I wanted to ride the chair lift to the top of Monte Solaro, the highest point on the island, and hoped to beat the crowds. It was great fun, though a bit scary on the way up. I was perched on a chair in the open air, like a ski lift, hovering over fig and fruit trees, vineyards and palm trees, with a wonderful view of the bay and birds singing along the way.

A view of the chairlift.

A view of the bay from the chairlift!

After that, I went to the Villa San Michele, an incredible place I can’t adequately describe.

It was created by Axel Munthe, a Swede, who spent most of his adult life in Capri, and wrote a best-selling book, The Story of San Michele, in 1928. This man was a philosopher, healer, writer, animal and plant lover, among other things.

Villa San Michele

View from Anacapri.

After the Villa, I took a bus to Capri town, which was little more than another collection of stores geared to tourist tastes. Rather than hang around any longer, I took the funicular down to the marina and caught a fast ferry back to Sorrento. It cost less than the previous boat, as it went slower (by only 5-10 minutes), carrying a load of cars and trucks as well as people. There wouldn’t be another ferry for an hour or two, and I wanted to beat the crowds returning to Sorrento.

Back in Sorrento, I took a final stroll around town, as I’m leaving tomorrow for Praiano. I found a street with artist workshops, or botteghe, and spent some time looking at many things made of inlaid wood, the local specialty, called Sorrento intarsia.  Though the large pictures were out of my price range, I found a small intarsia of a bird amidst some flowers that I bought for 10 euros. A nice memento of my stay in Sorrento.

One of the large intarsia in Sorrento. 

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.