Ways to Travel: Random thoughts from a random mind

What a memorable day –especially the evening. All thanks to a fortuitous meeting with Ida in Bagni!

The day was another fairly lazy one – after a late evening in Pisa on Tuesday we were all slow to rise, and by the time everyone was up, fed, showered and dressed it was almost 1 pm. It was an overcast morning, with a little drizzle, but little reduction in temperature. There was desultory discussion of an outing, but little forward movement. K & J made a run to the Wednesday Market for fresh vegetables and fruit and to the supermarket to replenish the milk and yoghurt supply, and brought back the fixings for a lovely insalata mista; a little later we sat down to a most satisfying Italian lunch – salumi, olives, bread, parmesan cheese with chestnut honey, pickled onions (agridolce and marinated in red wine vinegar), a bottle of very drinkable 1 euro vino rosso, followed by fresh peaches and watermelon.

We finally decided it would be a good day for a quick ride to nearby Barga – but by that time la Principessa was napping, so we spent siesta time playing Jenga and SET, and just being on vacation.

Barga is set high in the foothills, up a winding road through gorgeous green countryside. It is amazing how many small villages are tucked into the valleys of the Garfagnana. Barga sits atop one of the hills, with some of its 12th century defensive walls still in place. It is more like the hill towns further south – unlike Bagni, which stretches along the Lima river with its business area largely level, Barga’s streets twist and turn, with steep stairways connecting streets in the upper and lower part of the town.

With our unerring ability to visit on early closing day we found the tourist office and most shops closed, but enjoyed strolling through its compact center admiring the flowers blooming profusely on balconies, in gardens, and in pots. There were hydrangeas, roses, and geraniums in a spectrum of reds and pinks. The hills surrounding the town are covered in trees, a lush landscape.

At the very top of the town was the duomo – up a steep flight of stairs. La Nonna (that would be me) decided sitting on a bench in a small, quiet piazza in the shade would suit me better than climbing to the top, so I enjoyed a few minutes watching three little boys play soccer and a Nonno with his not yet two year old granddaughter who was intent on climbing everything in sight, and listening to the soprano voice emanating from a house somewhere in the area. We had noticed flyers for an opera recital on Friday night, featuring members of the Cardiff Opera Company from Wales – and one of the members of the company was clearly rehearsing.

Once again, our group dispersed to the four winds, and needed to be found and reminded we needed to return to freshen up for our special dinner treat – after a stop at the local gelateria for yet another wonderful scoop of refreshing limone and pesche for me – and chocolate for the kids. La Prinipessa, at almost five, announced she had a new motto – “another day, another Gelato” – smart kid!

We knew we had to make yet another stop at Conad for TP and more limonata, so four of us took off, leaving all three grandkids with D & E eating gelato, and made our way down the mountain, la nonna in the back seat as we whipped around the curves, future son in law Mario Andretti at the wheel! We made our grocery stop, then proceeded through town to the Casa Rossa, only to arrive and realize that D&E, who were somewhere behind us, had the key! And we had only about 15 minutes to change and get on our way to Vico Pancellorum for what turned out to be THE highlight of the trip to date!

The laggards arrived after only a couple of minutes, and everyone was sent to get ready – and surprisingly, in under 15 minutes everyone had morphed from shorts and t shirt clad tourists to slacks and skirt wearing sophisticates (well, comparatively) ready for a night in the village.
A short 20 minutes later we met Bill & Ida outside the church in the village which is so much a part of her life and upbringing, and which she was generous enough to share with us.

We went first to see her summer house – a classical three story villa which has been in her family for many years. It is beautifully decorated, and a true home. Family pictures hang in the hall and the kitchen, firmly establishing a sense of place and tradition – she is so lucky to have such wonderful records of her family and its history. She pointed out the nearby homes owned by cousins, and second cousins – we were surrounded! After a tour of the house, and a chance to see the fantastic view of the green hills visible from the top floor bedroom, we sat on the front steps for a group picture (on Ida's camera) before heading off up the hill to her cousin’s restaurant.

What a special experience we shared! We were introduced to cousins who owned and ran the restaurant, then seated and asked if we would like to see menus, or if we would like them just to choose for us and serve us what they thought we would enjoy! Guess what we decided….yep, and were we in for a treat.

We began with antipasti – an amazing liver pate with crostini; a variety of wonderful olives, thinly sliced roast pork with a special secret sauce, and a plate of fantastic cheeses. Oh – and a choice of frissante white or red wines, crunchy breadsticks, and crusty fresh bread. I was surprised and tickled to see la Principessa and her picky eater 13 year old cousin enjoying the pate and toast!

Antipasti were followed by huge platters of a superb risotto con zucchini – creamy, perfectly cooked, and oh so good! Ida reminded us to go slowly, there would be more – and even as we were scraping the bottom of the risotto platter, the homemade ravioli with butter and sage arrived – light and luscious pillows of goodness. We tried to eat slowly, enjoying and savoring each bite. I glanced down the table to where the 13 and 17 year olds were sitting – and saw them both taking seconds! Italian food has triumphed over food pickiness! Even the “pizza please, just cheese” principessa was enjoying her ravioli.

Then, just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, out came Luisa again with two heaping platters of the most incredible homemade papardelle I have ever enjoyed, each strand enveloped in a coating of zingara sauce! This is a speciality of the house, and Ida’s favorite. It was fantastic, and I definitely will be getting the recipe from her for this one!

Luisa and Giordana then came out to see what we would like as our secondi! It was by this time about 10:30 pm, and we had been eating for at least an hour and a half. I was amused when Luisa said she thought we might not want secondi, since we weren’t Italian. But we ARE lovers of quality food – so we decided to get single servings of a few of their offerings --- we got a little coniglio with olives, two servings of the pork ribs with honey and pine nuts (the boys devoured these before any of the grown ups could get a taste), and their signature cingiale, which, again, was the best I have ever tasted (and had been hunted by yet another of Ida’s cousins)! We all tasted, oohed and aahed, and only wished we could eat more!

Ida had asked Luisa (her cousin, the pastry chef) if she would fix a special treat for our dolce – so at the point when we could easily have walked out the door and gone hone totally sated and happy, Luisa arrived with a dish the size of an Olympic swimming pool filled with a pineapple tiramisu! Since D & E had decided that they needed to get la Principessa home and into bed (it was after 11 pm when they left), and taken the 13 year old with them, that left 8 of us to try to put a dent in the perfect dessert – it was light, not too sweet, and indescribably delicious. We managed (with 17 year old having two servings) to get through almost half of it. There was coffee for those who wanted it, and the tiramisu disappeared, only to reappear in a to go container – bigger than an 8” baking dish!

I have spent a great deal of time here rhapsodizing about the food – but what I haven’t mentioned is how this was another case of STers meeting for the first time and finding they were already good friends. We visited for hours with Ida and Bill as if we had known them for years, and enjoyed the interplay as cousins and second cousins wandered in to say hello. It was definitely a special evening, and I cannot thank Ida enough for making it possible.

On Monday we stayed close to home most of the day; a trip to the supermarket and a stop at the local Internet Point, housed in a fantastic bulding that was once the first casino in Europe were on the agenda for a few of us, while the others enjoyed the pool.

But our son’s phone was still not operational, and daughter needed to purchase a SIM card, so we decided after nap time to take a ride into Lucca, visit a TIM phone store, and share one of our favorite Italian towns with the kids.

We were lucky enough to see a TIM store along the street as we drove into town, and then to find parking for both of our cars within a few blocks of the shop! We found that although David had sent registration form and passport copies to Telestial and had called them to confirm all was in order, they had not completed the registration process, so within a few minutes that was taken care of, daughter got a card for her phone and we were good to go. I was a little disturbed to find, however, that though Telestial advertised that the SIM cards allowed free calling between TIM cell phones, that was NOT a feature of the SIM cards we have – not the first time I have found Telestial’s information to be less than accurate

With phones set up, and a quick stop at a Bancomat refreshing the wallets, we were off to see a little of Lucca. We were lucky enough to be there during the passegiata, so the streets were full of local citizens exchanging greetings and chatting. We window shopped, admired the architecture of many of the lovely buildings, visited the ampitheatro where la Principessa indulged In the international child’s pastime of chasing pigeons; listened to part of a vocal recital from outside one of the churches, then decided it was time to find a place to eat.

I had hoped we could follow the footsteps of many who have gone before us and eat at one of the great restaurants in town, but the realities of travel with a four year old made it clear that something less formal and quicker would be better for all concerned, so we said thank you to Jerry for having talked about K2 Pizzeria, sat at a table outside, and enjoyed a very tasty meal. 17 year old surprised us all by ordering and devouring a pizza del mare, replete with clams and mussels in the shell along with other wonderful looking seafood. He loved it. 13 year old passed on pizza (kids are full of surprises) and opted for fritto misti, loving the calamari and even eating some of the fried zucchini, despite an avowed hatred for the vegetable. La Principessa ordered for herself – “ pizza con quatri formaggi, per piacere” – she much prefers that to a simple Margherita pizza.

It began to get dark as we finished dinner, and we walked back along the walls as night fell.

A pattern is evolving -- relaxed mornings at the villa, time in the pool for the younger members of the family, lunch at home, nap time for La Principessa (almost 5 granddaughter), card games or movies on the portable DVDs for the boys, and then the urge to get out and do something.

On Saturday we heard there would be a Medieval Festival in the Park on Sunday, with sword fight demonstrations, artisans and more. And on Sunday, beginning at about 10 am we could hear the opening salvos from our terrace a mile or so away – cannons and rifles were being demonstrated, and the noise echoed off the steep hills on either side of the valley. But heat and inertia kept us from voyaging into town until about 3 pm, when we decided to see If anything was still going on. And it was.

It was a small event, but interesting for adults and kids alike. There were probably 50 participants in medieval garb (and I didn’t envy them in the heat); a gentleman from nearby Monte Carlo was demonstrating how to grind wheat, using an old stone grinder that he invited others to try. An artisan with a lathe operated with a foot pedal was making lovely pieces from olive wood (including the beautifully crafted sword my 13 year old grandson decided he couldn’t live without); and a group of young men were offering samples of spiced wine (very good, but potent), and had a large display of medieval weaponry, which they demonstrated and described in very creditable English. My son has always been fascinated with medieval weaponry, and was in his element, especially when they put a full helmet on him and handed him a broadsword. La Principessa then decided she, too, wanted to be a warrior, and with helmet and dagger, assumed a fearsome persona that had the young men grinning broadly.

While we were enjoying all of this, we would periodically look over to the area where the guns were being demonstrated – and as the cannons and shotguns were loaded with powder we would periodically cover our ears, because volleys of shots were frequent and loud!

As the afternoon wound down, all of the participants gathered together and marched off to the central piazza for a final parade, with drums drumming, flags waving and being tossed by young marchers, the contadine with their wooden pitchforks and brooms, bows and arrows defining their roles.

Ringing the park where the festival was taking place were tables offering all sorts of local products – and we were delighted to be able to buy fresh baked bread, two kinds of honey, and eggs from a local farm, sold by the egg – we bought all the 11 the farmer had!

It was fun to get a glimpse into the past.

We had a lovely lazy breakfast Saturday morning at the B&B, sitting in the peregola in our host’s lovely garden – a sumptuous spread that included croissants, bread, butter, several kinds of jelly, ham, cheese, lattes and juice. Then it was time to re pack the cars and head into the centro where the weekly market was taking place. We needed to stock up on basics for the rental house – and since we couldn’t get access until early afternoon, the market was a good way to spend some time (although La Principessa, the almost 5 year old nipote preferred playing in the local park). When Bill and I arrived at the market we went looking for our offspring, and found la figlia and fiancé talking with someone. They waved us over, and said their companion lived in a nearby village, and had stopped them to ask if they were Americans.

“This is Ida”, said la figlia – at which point I did a double take, remembering that Vico Girl spent summers somewhere near Lucca.

“Are you Palma’s Ida?” I asked. Her mouth fell open, and she said yes, she was – and asked if I was part of Slow Travel. It doesn’t matter where you go – Slow Travel has a presence there!

Ida said she was staying at her home in Vico Pancellorum, and we mentioned that the owner of our B&B had recommended a restaurant there – which, as it turns out, is owned and operated by one of Ida’s cousins! She encouraged us to come up for dinner one night during the week, and we agreed we would do so. We talked a while longer, then realized we needed to get to the market before it closed, and parted with a promise to get together later in the week.

It was fun introducing our kids to a typical mercato in Italy. And even more wonderful was shopping and purchasing large quantities of fantastic produce. We bought tiny green beans, little pale green zucchini with the flowers still attached, large deep red tomatoes, and fresh basil, onions, garlic, potatoes, huge dark purple figs, raspberries, strawberries, early peaches, and what I am sure was the world’s largest watermelon! And as the sales woman was totaling our bill, she added a few stalks of celery, a handful of parsley, and a couple of carrots – the foundation of a good sugo! We also bought two lovely rotisserie chickens, cheese and prosciutto, and a fresh loaf of whole wheat bread. We were ready for dinner and Sunday breakfast!

Refreshed by a stop at the local bar for cappucinos (adults) and gelato (kids), we were ready to move into our home for a week – the lovely Casa Rossa di Campigli, a 4 bedoom villa with pool that I had found on the internet. The listing did mention that the road approaching the house was narrow; this proved to be an understatement. And as we tried to find the house (Harriet proving to be totally useless at finding the location on its tiny country lane), we found that there was parking for only one car – with additional parking about ¼ mile down the road, with a gravel path up to the road to the house… so we parked two of the cars in the “auxiliary” lot, loaded ALL the luggage into the third, and we trudged up the path to the house. Yes – moving days are about as much fun as travel days!

Once we got there, however, we were delighted. The house was spacious, immaculately clean. Bill and I had the ground floor bedroom, which actually was a one bedroom apartment with an efficiency kitchen and a private doorway out to a side patio. On the first floor there was a large, well appointed kitchen, a dining room with a long country table that would seat all of us easily, and a large living room with TV, stereo, and shelves of books and games. On the second floor were three more bedrooms, one of which had stairs to a loft with an additional bed and half bath. Most important to the younger set, there was a large swimming pool just outside the door! We were on the edge of the town, surrounded by trees, close enough to the river to hear it, though we could not see it. Bagni is set in a narrow valley nestled between wooded hills, and we were surrounded by green!

The rest of the day was spent settling in, meeting our landlady and her 6 year old son, and enjoying being at home.

After stopping at the farm shop to purchase two kilo sized wedges of parmesan and a jar of mostarda, Bill and I were on our way from Parma to Florence, where we were to meet the first half of the family at the airport in Florence. It was a pleasant ride even on the autostrada, and we arrived half an hour before their flight was due to arrive. Bonus – when we got parked and into the arrivals area we found their flight had already landed, so we had very little time to wait before they came through the door from customs.

The master plan – another one of those Judy decisions that wasn’t nearly as brilliant as it seemed in California – was that Grandad would take most of their luggage and the grandsons to Prato, while our daughter and her fiancé joined me on the local bus from the airport to Prato. According to the online Prato bus schedule, the bus from Florence to Prato stopped frequently at the airport. NOT! We asked half a dozen people and they were unanimous in their response – to get the bus to Prato, you need to take the airport bus to Florence to the train station, and catch it there. It was hot, the new travelers were tired, and expedience won out over economy, so we piled into a taxi, and only 33 euros later arrived in Prato, after a delightful conversation with our woman driver.

Why Prato? Good question. It made sense at home – the cost of renting a car away from the airport was noticeably cheaper than renting from the airport, and Prato was the first town in the westerly direction. Makes sense, right? Well – factoring in the taxi fare and the need to kill time until the mid day closure at the car rental location ended at 3 pm, the savings were not worth the aggravation. However, we had a pleasant lunch in Prato, sat in the park for a while, and then daughter and fiancé went off to get their car.

With the help of Harriet the GPS, we easily found our way out of Prato and to Bagni di Lucca – but when it came to finding the B&B where we would be staying, it was another matter. The B&B was on a tiny little side street too narrow to drive down, where the house numbers were apparently assigned based on random number theory, and on first try we could not find the house number at all! I called our landlord in frustration – he apologized and explained the house was tucked in at the end of a tiny walkway, between two houses with street numbers totally out of sequence with that of the B&B.

By the time we schlepped all the luggage down the hill and into the house it was almost 5 pm, and I expected my son and his family to arrive at any moment: they had flown to Pisa from Amsterdam, and were picking up their car there.

The B&B had a lovely garden and a pool, so the boys quickly donned their suits and cooled off, while the rest of us sat under the pergola enjoying the warm afternoon breeze, and chatting with our host when he arrived home around 6 pm. We kept trying to reach our son on his cell phone, but got a repeated message that the number was not active…very frustrating. After they got out of the pool the boys decided to walk down to the center of town to see if by chance figlio and family were wandering around there – but saw no sign of them.

Finally, about 7:30 pm we decided we had to take the new arrivals to dinner, as they were looking decidedly bleary eyed. Just as we arrived at the top of the street where we had parked our cars, a very hot, frustrated and cranky son drove up; his phone was not working (despite the fact that he had sent all the required forms and passport copies to Telestial and had been told the phone HAD been activated), he had not been able to get a GPS when he picked up the car, he got lost driving through Lucca, and had reached the end of his rope, only to be frustrated by not being able to find the B&B. We convinced him he should just park his car and walk with the boys down the quarter mile to the centro to Del Sonno, a simple pizzeria that had been recommended both by our B&B host and by the owners of the Villa we had rented. They happily accommodated our group of nine, and we had a simple supper of food we knew the kids would enjoy.

Finally, our family was together.