My last day in Florence

I spent my last day in Florence at Boboli Gardens and Pitti Palace


Boboli Gardens


Boboli Gardens


One last sunset over the Arno


I sat on a bridge over the Arno to listen to music by Claudio Spadi - he was awesome! This lady was really getting into it! She was hilarious!


Goodbye! I'll miss you!


The heart of Florence at night

Back to Florence - Hotel Gioia

The staff was wonderful!

The last few days of my stay in Italy were spent in Florence. I stayed at Hotel Gioia. Here is the review I wrote for their website:

My stay at Hotel Gioia was exceptional. The staff was friendly and helpful which was important to me as a single female traveler. I felt like they kept tabs on me and gave me advice about the city that was invaluable.

My room was basic, but had it's own bathroom. It was just what I needed and was very clean.

The hotel is located in the heart of Florence so it was easy for me to get around by walking.

I would recommend this hotel to any friends visiting Florence. I'm so grateful to the kind people who work there that made my stay wonderful.

http://www.nozio.com/Europe/Italy/Tuscany/Florence/Florence/lodging/Hotels/3_three_stars_hotels/Hotel_Gioia.htm?review=outstanding_16339


My room


My bathroom that included a bidet!

Goodbye Vitorchiano

Here I am touching the belly button of the Moai in Vitochiano for good luck. The Moai statue is the only one located outside Easter Island.

Tenuta di Santa Lucia Pictures

Tenuta di Santa Lucia

On the last night of my stay in Vitorchiano, Linda and Sergio took Sandy and I to Tenuta di Santa Lucia for dinner. Once a place for silkworm breeding, it’s now a gorgeous guesthouse and restaurant. This property that has been in the Trua family for over 200 years is now a draw for agritourism. On their 2-1/2 acres, they raise Chianina cattle and grow crops of grain, hay, olives, and hazelnuts. They have even begun to cultivate lavender. I had never heard of agritourism or “agriturismo” before, but according to what I have learned it is popular in Italy. I believe people get tax breaks if they use the meat and crops they produce to sustain a business – in this case a B&B and restaurant. As you can see from the pictures, the place is lovely! I would have no objection to spending some time here and the people there were kind and helpful. Our meal was excellent and the atmosphere was inviting. I will attach the link if you want to learn more about Tenuta di Santa Lucia – I encourage you to check it out since their pictures are much better than mine!

http://www.tenutadisantalucia.com/eng/index.html

New Friends

Sergio, Linda, and I



Linda, Sandy, and I

Tapping into the soul of place writer's workshop

“Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.” – Seneca

It’s rather funny that I went half way around the world to learn to write about my place, but well worth it! I was able to get away, settle in, and write about place with renewed excitement from master teacher, Linda Lappin. Linda, fellow writer Sandy Sims from California, and I would discuss writing about place and read from authors like Mary Sarton, Linda Hogan, Patricia Hampl, and Shirley Hazzard. Linda gave excellent instruction on how to observe different things about places. She also discussed with us travel-writing approaches. I learned a lot of specific writing skills that will help me describe my own place and the places I visit better. Much of this writing, reading, and discussion happened in Linda’s courtyard or home. It was lovely!

Along this journey, I did not only learn about how to become a better writer of place, but I made some dear friends, too. Linda, her husband Sergio, and Sandy were delightful people I have been enriched by through this experience. I am grateful for my time with them and for having the chance to learn from them. I am blessed!

http://www.pokkoli.org/

Enough is Enough

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” – Henry Miller

I had an upsetting conversation hop into my suitcase for a free ride to Italy. It made me angry that the conversation I had a few days before I left would creep into my brain as I jogged along the picturesque countryside. This is not what I want to be thinking of when I’m in a country I’ve desired to come to for so long, but here it is again…The conversation sneaks into my brain about 50 times each day. WHY? I think the reason it sticks out like a sore thumb is because it got to the heart of my most difficult issue in life – BALANCE. How do I balance everything? Family, home, schoolwork, friends, student needs, committees, and the list goes on and on. Often times I feel anxious about doing a good job at work and keeping up my relationships. The thought of taking on one more thing makes me feel like I’ll spontaneously combust from being stretched out in so many directions. Over the course of this trip I thought a lot about my “balance issue”. I never really figured anything out except to take it one day at a time and to say “No” when asked to do more….even if that person thinks I don’t do enough.

Observations and Discussions that develop my place conscious mind

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” – Mark Twain
I think traveling is important on so many levels, but learning about other cultures is something I find invaluable. Throughout my trip I observed the people and listened to their points of view. Here are a few things I noticed or was told about:
Time and Food
No waiter is in a hurry for you to pay or leave. I always have to ask for my check, not like America where they rush you out the door. This place suits me – it’s much more laid back! Also, many people here make delightful noises when they first start to eat if really good and they take a long time to eat – it’s an event, not something to get done and move on to the next thing.

The men, especially in Florence, really stare and are very friendly, yet the young women don’t really look at me – even in small village. I like seeing the older women hanging out their windows as they watch the world and the older men sitting on benches or standing in the streets visiting.

I was told that they are shocked by the alcohol use of the US and British kids when they come to visit – I wonder why those kids (in general) drink more?

In Italy it is OK to live at home with one’s parents, but in the US it seems like one should be shamed for it. This attitude has changed a bit since the economy has taken a turn for the worse. OH! And in Europe, they call it “The Crisis”, whereas here we say the economy is bad.

The driving and roads are truly crazy. I’ve noticed that ever since I have returned from Italy that I hold onto the hand/clothes hook above the passenger door. I got into the habit of holding on after all the crazy riding experiences in Italy. After being picked up in a taxi at the airport in Florence the song “Tonight’s Gonna Be a Good Night” was blasting through the speakers. I held on as we voomed through the streets dodging other cars, mopeds, people and bicycles! At one point we took a sharp turn and I thought the man standing on the street corner was going to end up in my open window!

There are people who steal in every country, but here I heard stories about Gypsies throwing babies at people to catch while the children stole from their pockets or they would throw water on people to distract them then stole their purse. Oh my was I ever nervous and kept my purse guarded at all times.

They say everything is BIGGER in the US – not just the stores, but even the refrigerators! It’s very rare for Italians to have clothes dryers, too, because there isn’t space.

There has been a lot of controversy over immigration in the US lately, but I was sad to be reminded that it is an issue everywhere. I can’t believe that in Milan they were trying to pass a law that immigrants couldn’t sit down on the bus! That’s terrible!

This experience has educated me on many levels. Talking about the similarities and differences has taught me a lot. It’s also been fun to just sit back and watch, but no matter what our differences are, we are all one people.

Siena

Siena

My visit to Siena included a lovely lunch & wine tasting near the Palazzo Comunale. The city square actually looks like a sink – it has a square around it, but a circular bowl in the middle. Then we went on a tour with a guide that did a superb job of educating us about the history of Siena. We walked to the cathedral to see a gorgeous interior that was gothic on the bottom and had Renaissance features on the top. The tour guide said this was because there was a plague that made them stop production on the church, then when they finally had enough funding the Renaissance had been born so those features took over.
After this we went to Cappella di Santa Caterina where St. Catherine of Siena took her vows.

The two things that interested me most about Siena were the Palio and Cappella di Santa Caterina. The Palio is a horse race held two times each year in the city center; July 2 is named Palio di Provenzano, in honor of Madonna di Provenzano, who has a church in Siena and August 16 is named Palio dell’Assunta, in honor of the Assumption of Mary. 10 of the 17 contrade or districts in Siena have jockeys ride bareback horses around the city center three times. No money is given to the winning jockey – it is the HORSE that wins the honor for the district it represents.

As I said earlier, the Cappella di Santa Caterina is where St. Catherine of Siena took her vows. Siena holds this saint dear because she is said to have talked the pope into coming back to Rome. She must have been quite a persuasive lady! I was surprised to see the relics of her head and her thumb. The guide said St. Catherine died in Rome and was buried there, but the people of Siena wanted to claim her body, so as a compromise the people from Rome gave the Sienese parts of her body to display in their church.

Palio in Siena - I made this using Comic Life

The phone booth is to the right - my only way to communicate with the outside world

Disconnecting

FYI: I am finally getting around to posting more about my Italy trip - I'm home now, but going back and posting about my past experience this summer.

“I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.” ~ Lillian Smith

During my week in Vitorchiano, I have been completely disconnected from the outside world save this phone booth, which dubs as the village cats’ litter box, and an international calling card. Each day I called Julia and Aaron, and occasionally my parents, for updates, smiles, and loves. Over the week, I had no internet, no ichat, no facebook, no email, no cell phone, and no TV. What made this experience more isolating is that only three people in the village spoke English. I missed my family and communication terribly, but this forced journey within gave me time to read and to write. It also gave me time to think about my priorities, my students & teaching, and my family life. Often times I get into high gear and just go without thinking about what road I’m on or where it’s taking me. It’s been nice to switch off the distractions and responsibilities in order to shift into low gear. Many probably think it’s selfish to “wander around Italy” for a couple weeks, but I honestly think this will make me a better teacher, family member, and friend. I’ve had the chance to learn from a master teacher of writing how to write – this will help me serve my students better.

San Gimignano Photos

San Gimignano

“There are places one comes home to that one has never been to: San Gimignano.” ~Barbara Grizzuti Harrison

I ventured into the Tuscany countryside to visit San Gimignano and Siena. One of my favorite parts of the day was the bus ride there. I was wooed by Tuscany’s gorgeous cypress trees, poppies, and rolling fields. I wondered what it was like to put up hay in these parts as compared to Nebraska. I didn’t see the big tractors we have in the Midwest, so it felt as if I stepped back in time. My first stop was San Gimignano, the New York City of Tuscany, with its towering medieval stonework. My first impression was that I would like to stay longer as it drew me in with its awe-inspiring views and abundant shopping. I was told by the tour guide to go behind the church, walk a little ways, and find some steps to climb for an amazing view. Once I reached the top, I could only put my hands on my hips and shake my head as I wondered, “How did I get so lucky?” There was a man sitting on a bench facing the view reading a book. There was a woman sitting on the ground just staring ahead. I’m sure they had the same thoughts as me.

After snapping numerous photos, I shopped for keepsakes to bring home for my family and friends. As I looked around, I started to notice the Black Rooster label on Chianti wines, on T-shirts, and in the linen shops. After doing some research, I learned about “the Legend of the Black Rooster”. If you know much about wine, you certainly have heard of Chianti Classico. The red wine produced in the area that lies between Florence to the north and Siena to the south (and beyond) has been enjoyed by people since 1000 A.D.
An amusing legend of the black rooster goes back to a time when the cities of Florence and Siena fought over the area that is now the Chianti Classico zone. The rivalry waged on for several years until the early 1200’s when leaders decided to settle the issue by a competition.
Two horsemen, one from Florence and the other from Siena, were to leave their hometowns at a cockcrow and where ever they met that exact spot would define their boarders. For this purpose, the Sienese chose a beautiful, well-fed white rooster who grew big and fat as their official timekeeper, while the Florentines instead chose a starving black rooster for their timekeeper. On that fateful day of the event, the black rooster began to crow early long before sunrise because he was so famished and the Florentine rider set off towards Siena. Meanwhile the Sienese white rooster took its time and began to crow at sunrise. As a result, the Florentine rider was able to cover more ground and met the Sienese rider just 12-19 kilometers (references differ) north of Siena. The boundary lines were drawn at the meeting spot and the majority of Chianti Classico region now fell under the jurisdiction of the Florentine Republic. Today, the Black Rooster label is placed on the neck of a bottle of wine from the Chianti Classico zone
(Information courtesy of The Legend of the Black Rooster by Terry Sullivan http://www.winetrailtraveler.com/opinion/columnists/blackrooster.php and interview with Giuseppe Liberatore, Director of Consortium Chianti Classico by Duccio Morozzo della Rocca http://www.teatronaturale.com/article/622.html )

Legends like the one about the Black Rooster make me fall in love more deeply with this place. There is so much history and legend and story that reaches up from the soil and into my imagination.

Roma

“Not all those who wander are lost.” – J. R. R. Tolkien

Recipe for a day in Rome

Ingredients:
1 Camera
1 Good Map
2 Adventurous Friends
A large dose of a willingness to walk far distances

Then mix together the following in order:
Take the train into Rome
Get on the metro
Visit the Colosseum
Discover that the Basillica of St. Clement is only open at odd hours, so you’ll have to visit another time
Get Lost by the Roman Forums and something else
Ask for directions
Eat at Trattoria Giggetto Al Portico D’Ohavia in the Jewish Ghetto
Go inside the Pantheon
Ask for directions
Trevi Fountain (you must throw a coin over your shoulder in the fountain with your back to it)
Ask for directions
Sit on The Spanish Steps, then by the sinking ship fountain with gelato in hand
Take a cab back to the train station – it’s too far to walk

Enjoy this wonderful day in Rome over the course of the day.




The Arch of Constantine



The Colosseum



Eating in the Jewish Ghetto. We were told to have the fried artichoke.



The Pantheon



You can't take many steps before running into more ruins.



Trevi Fountain



I love this picture! Sandy and I were trying to figure out where we were and getting help from others.



The Spanish Steps

Vitorchiano, Italy

Michael is the patron saint here. According to legend, Mary was the patron saint, then the plague hit and Mary needed some help. The priest at the time decided to add Michael the Archangel as their other patron saint. Once he did this, the plague ceased!

The Village of Vitorchiano

The door to my place is on the far left.






This is the second gate to get into the older part of the village.






This is the first gate to get into the village from the outside.






Notice how old this sign is by the horse and buggy!








Another beautiful door here.







There are so many different doors!

Santa Maria

“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” – Miriam Beard

As I pass through the two gates that lead into the oldest part of Vitochiano, I feel as if I’m being whispered a great secret. Santa Maria, one of the village’s patron saints, guards the first outside gate built in the 1500s for the expanding residents. Straight ahead lies the second gate built in the 13th century with a clock tower now above it that thrusts into the air. A statue of Mary is embedded behind glass under the clock as if she’s rising to the Heavens in prayer over her dear people. These south gates are the only way into Vitorchiano since it’s built on a grey peperino rock peninsula surrounded by a green gorge.

Passing medieval stone houses with doors shaped like entrances to Etruscan tombs I notice cheery red geraniums and verdant plant life overflowing from windows and stair-steps. The village’s main pathway winds in a circle with narrow passages jutting off to overlooks of the gorge. What strikes me is that in the heart of this fortified village is the church devoted to Mary. All life surrounds the church here.

Within three days of my time in Vitorchiano, I have witnessed two religious processions. One devoted to St. Amanzio, whose bones lie for all to see in the church just inside the first city gates, and another procession in honor of Santa Maria. Upon seeing these processions, I felt as if I was peeking into a time where lost traditions, sacred symbols, and devote people were hiding. I was astonished to see intricate flower designs in the village square before St. Amanzio’s procession. The heads of yellow margarits and pedals sunlit pink mums created the circle of a symbolic shield. The procession started at the head of the first gate and followed a path of flower petals down to the square. The band played a dirge as a solemn group followed. First were the men carrying three crucifixes in a row on their backs, then priest carrying a statue of St. Amanzio, with a group of little angels and older children in white behind him, then two lines of adults followed. I was enchanted to witness such an old tradition of religious ceremony.

The next evening another procession shuffled by in the same order, but this time four men carried a statue of Mary at least five feet high on a platform. In the darkness, the adults carried candles with various colors of tissued paper surrounding the glow. This time I decided to follow. As an outsider, I trailed at the end of the line snapping images with my camera that I knew could never truly communicate the feeling of awe and reverence I felt at the moment. The priest sang songs and said prayers in Mary’s honor and the band played an occasional tune. Even though I could not understand the language, I recognized the rhythm of the prayers and the melodies of songs. This made me feel connected to this place and these people. We shared a special language that united us through God’s presence. As we paraded through the small village I noticed a few residents with their heads hanging out windows, too old to walk in the procession now, but could see in their eyes a reflection of their youth from the days they carried on the tradition from centuries before. I also noticed for the first time, the pictures of Mary throughout the village with little ledges with flowers and candles underneath. Although a procession such as this is one I have never seen before, I thought it was a quintessential example of this community’s religious views. After walking through the village’s inner city streets, the group flowed out of the inner gate, through the square and further on to the outer gate. At first I thought we would proceed inside the church, but to my surprise, we continued outside of the city walls. I felt like the procession was out of place among the modern parking lot, vehicles, and police presence. It felt as if the tradition had been exposed or tarnished somehow by letting the world outside the gates see it. The image that has stayed fixed in my mind is of Mary’s statue being carried under the bright lights of a gas station sign. The dazzling white, red, and yellow sign clashed with Mary’s soft blue dress and veil of white...

I'm still working on this....sorry for the abrupt stop, but I need to figure out how I want to finish this.

A jog in Vitorchiano

“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.” – Freya Stark

My iPod touch opens my eyes to the mamba, dancing me awake. The light filtering through the small window of my bedroom tells me it’s time to get up for a jog. I tell myself it’s 7:00 A.M. in Vitorchiano, Italy, midnight in O’Neill, Nebraska. I can sleep a little longer. But as I snuggle my head deeper into my pillow I think of the bird show outside my window. “My window”, I think with a sleepy grin. This is “my window” for seven days. Like an old friend calling on the other end of telephone, I pick myself up to answer the call. When I walk out of the cave-like bedroom, I open the window to hear birds singing their morning glory song. Swallows swoop circles inches away, then like an Olympic diver fly straight down for the gorge and flap back up again for air. I look to the upper left hand corner of the window to the spider webs gracefully swaying in the sunny breeze. Last evening, I had finally met the creator of this delicate lace: a sturdy spider with long, sassy legs. Upon seeing her I said, “Oh there you are,” and promptly named her Lucy. “She must still be sleeping,” I thought now.

I stay still, watching the birds and listening to the water below until the 7:15 bells chime, urging me to get moving. After getting dressed, I’m ready for my first jog in Vitorchiano. As I walk through the town, people stare at me with curious looks that say, “Who is this woman? She’s not from here. Look at her with an iPod stuck to her ears and keychain wrapped around her wrist. What is the word on her shirt? Creighton? What is that? Hhmmmmmm. Her dark hair and eyes make her look Mediterranean, but we haven’t seen her around here.” Even the cats look at me suspiciously. Soon enough I’m away from their gazes as I jog past the cemetery and onto a country road. I think it’s ironic that I’m listening to Jay-Z and Beyonce sing to me when I could listen to the sounds of nature, but I keep them in my ears to reassure me of home on this foreign land. I like the thought of running through the Italian countryside, but I wonder what could be lurching in the wild underbrush near the trail. Could vipers be waiting in there? Does Italy have bobcats like the one we found dead in a ditch near our farm in Nebraska? What’s this scat on the trail? Please, God, let it be from a wild cat and not something more vicious. Occasionally, I would yell out it triumph over tackling a big hill or just over the pure exhilaration from the fact that I am jogging on this dirt road in the middle of Italy. I’m sure upon hearing my hoops and hollers the poppies flushed a deeper red over frustration that I’d disturb guarded fields.

As I start back towards town, I wonder: How many birds could be sitting in the overhanging trees above? Do they have many bees here? While getting closer to my flat, I think: this jog is much like my adventure to Italy. I have so many questions about this place and so many questions of myself. I did not know what to expect, but I’m chugging through the experience. I’m living the process as I uncover the answers. I’m staying rooted in my home place, but gathering pieces of Italian life. When I unlock my door, I smile when I see my window. It pulls me in, so I can look out over the gorge to the other side of life and wonder what it’s like to live there.

Villa Lante

“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.” ~ Jawaharial Nehru

Sergio took Sandy and I to Villa Lante located in Bagniaia. It is an amazing garden created by/for Cardinal Gembara. Apparently, he really liked to entertain here. The photos will show you what I mean, but to learn more, check out this website:
http://www.gardenvisit.com/garden/villa_lante










Sergio is stuck in a tree!!!



Sergio and I



This is a table...they would stick their feet in the water at the base of the table and their bottles in the middle...good thinking!



Sandy and I