I am a blog behind.
Although I do not mind,
I will be sure to find,
my fans wondering where I have dined,
and if it involved an orange rind;
or if the people were kind.
Nonstop travel makes it hard to rewind
the days that I have left behind.
Thankfully I have scribed & designed,
the adventures that have defined,
how Whit & Europe became entwined.
My oath to you here is signed,
I invite you to read on, if you feel so inclined.
I am living in one of "the most beautiful villages in all of Italy"... Corciano sits high on a hill, systematically designed in medieval times for security and to always see who was "at the front door." Although there wasn't a cloud in the blue bird sky, it was brisk. At the bottom of the hill, I was in a sweatshirt and down jacket. 20 minutes later at the top of the hill I was reminded what elevation felt like after being at sea level for a month, sucking air and fanning myself, in a t-shirt- buns of steel here I come! Rosella, fellow blondie and complete crack up, showed us around the town, introduced us to the priest and the Gelatoria owner and gabbed on about history intermittently between answering her cell phone and dying laughing at herself. We stopped by the market for snacks since we don't usually receive meals on the weekends... Ritz, carrots, bananas, raisins and almonds. Upon return to the villa at the bottom of the hill, we were informed that we were in fact, provided lunch, being it the first weekend of our stay... green salad followed by pesto gnocchi and a blood orange. You will hear rejoicing from the hilltops the day we don't receive pasta at a meal... I wouldn't hold your breath.
After settling in for a bit, I went on my first run in my new region... I am surrounded by hills and valleys, though roads are very narrow, lacking shoulders, so running will be similar to an arcade game- Inky, Blinky, Pinky and Clyde are the smart cars speeding around corners, trying to catch me, Pac Woman. I stayed on rural roads and wound my way up to the neighboring hill town, Migiana. It must be mandatory for Italians to own German Shepherds because through every steel gate were black noses and snarled teeth releasing fierce, blood thirsty barks. Here kitty, kitty, kitty... I found a dirt road/trail through the woods that took me as far as a large, impassable mud bog. It was getting dark, so I headed back just in time to enjoy the last sliver of sun slip behind the hills. I "stretched it out" next to the castle... yes, the castle. I know, I pinched myself as I leaned on the stone wall to stretch the calves. The skies were pale pink and misty orange... it was pretty magical. I grabbed a shower and joined everyone for penne with tomato sauce, salad, fried artichokes (pass) and mystery meat with gravy (pass)... so much food. One course is a full meal for me, but they keep coming... I don't want them to think I dislike their food, but I physically cannot consume this much! Michele came in to share some of his homemade "Fragolacella"- strawberry version of Lemoncello. Took advantage of some much needed R&R today... off to Assisi tomorrow! Ciao!
Whit! Wow. The last two days have been so fabulous. I skipped "til the wee hours"... I can't take wee hours even when said these days. I will go back to it in a day or two when I have caught up on some shut eye. Who ever said practitioners work at home so they get to sleep should be shot. Well, perhaps not, then there would be more work! :-)
ReplyDeleteLike I was saying, these last few days have been sooo nice. I can imagine it down to the sounds of the dry earth and birdies. I love reading them. I stayed in a similar village called Cortona in the same province with Ben and Natie when they were just little for about a fortnight. All of us were instantly put at ease by the setting. Day after day I sat in the sun reading and pondering the meaninglessness of large modern Cities and fast cars, Ben looked for lizards by an old Medici home at the top of the hill while charming old men played and joked with him (we actually don't know what they were saying, so they might not have been charming at all-- but who cared). Natie pretended to be one of the ladies she saw in the early mornings making the rounds at the 12 stations of the cross - she put a sweater over her head to resemble the scarf tied under the chin, made the sign of the cross and left powdery flowers at each station. That little medieval city sticks in my mind like white on rice all these years later.
I am so happy you have this rich experience.
Very readable as usual, Whit. And a commentator who also loves Cortona!
ReplyDeleteOffering corrections: Rossella (well described) has a father MICHELE who offered Fragolacella, and his bride (our cook, and yes, there will always be pasta because we are in Italy) is BEBE. Carry on!