An Italian Drive

After two days in Pisa, I embarked on the part of my travels that I had fretted over the most: four days driving through Tuscany and into the forests of the Casentino. Driving. In Italy. I had been warned. But I didn’t care. I wanted to see this mountainous, forested area full of wildlife and medieval towns and monasteries. So I rented a Fiat 500L, christened him “Uberto”, and set off. 

I wound up taking the wrong road, which led me on a slight tour through the Chianti hills. Boy, tough life. 

I discovered right away that once you get off the Autostrade, the Italian road signs don’t give you much warning. As a result, I was driving slowly (also known as the speed limit), and annoying a lot of Italians in the process. Actually, they were more considerate drivers than I had been led to believe, and mostly put up with my plodding pace until I could pull over and let them past. 

As I observed the other drivers, I realized that in Italy, it is entirely up to the merging car to fit in somewhere. Having a quick touch on the gas helps, which was a problem for me. You see, Uberto was a diesel and an automatic, which meant he got great mileage, but his acceleration was somewhat…delayed. Starts from a dead stop went something like this:

Me: Ok Uberto, let’s go! *floors gas *

Uberto:rrrrrRRR…wait did you check the map?rrrrRRRRR…ooh! look! a castle!rrrrRRRR…Squirrel!

A view from the Consuma Pass

Uberto also had a party trick. If I stepped on the brake with medium force, he would come to a stop. If I stepped on the brake with solid force, he would come to a stop and turn off the engine, only to restart when I lifted my foot. I’m sure this is intended to save gas when at a full stop, but as I stopped to make a left turn on a busy country highway, it scared the crap out of me. 

My host, Roberta, had thoughtfully provided turn-by-turn directions which led me off the highway and through a village called Caiano. Once outside the village, I turned from a road that could barely let two cars pass, to a road that definitely would not accommodate two cars. This took me into the hamlet of Ristonchi. If you’re wondering, here are my definitions:

Town: possessing a handful of roads, businesses etc.

Village: possessing one public road, a church (probably)  and one or two small businesses. 

Hamlet: possessing no more than a dozen dwellings and either a church or a cafe, but not both. 

A view of the village of Caiano. These mountains are dotted with dozens of these small communities.

I arrived early, ahead of Roberta, but her mother was there to show me the cottage. She asked if I understood Italian, and I told her “poco”.  She took that and ran with it, and between speaking slowly and hand gestures, I got about 70%.  Then Roberta showed up and took over after a short discussion with her mother which seemed to go like this:

Roberta: Mom, what are you doing? She doesn’t speak Italian. 

Mama: We’re doing fine!  She understands!

Roberta: Mom, you’re not going to be able to explain the electricity no matter how much you wave your hands!

Mama: She understands. 

It was utterly charming. 

Hanging out my wash

The cottage was a good 25 minute drive from the nearest alimentare (market) or restaurant. I had to wash any clothes by hand and line dry them. Because it was up a mountain, I often brought groceries back up so I wouldn’t have to drive that little road in the dark, and spent the evening cooking pasta and sipping delicious local wine. It was heaven. After all the busyness of the cities, it was so nice to have relaxed days with lots of quiet time to reflect. I quickly made friends with Roberta’s cat, Lola, whose mid-morning sunbathing embodied relaxation. 

A piece of Pisa

   The trip to Pisa was a quick decision made because I wanted to see a festival of some sort while in Italy. In Pisa, this is the festival of San Ranieri, celebrated every 17th of June. The night before is the Luminara, when 110,000 candles light up the buildings on both sides of the Arno, and fireworks are set off at 11pm. The next day, a traditional boat race is held in which four wooden boats of eight rowers row upstream to a floating platform. At the platform, a single man on each boat scales a rope 30 feet in the air to grab a flag. Sounded like fun. 

   At about 5pm, people started lining the street along the Arno. Stands with sweets, drinks and carnival food came out, and the fireworks got prepped on small rafts in the center of the river. At most, they were 200 feet from the riverbank, and I couldn’t help thinking, “This would never fly in the US”.  While sitting along the Arno, waiting for the show to start, I met a lovely couple. The man was from the US and his wife is Pisan, so I took advantage of their English to ask about San Ranieri. Neither knew his story, and it took four family members to piece together a story of a thief and a profligate who repented. I’m still not sure that their story was accurate. 

Sweet stalls sell marzipan candies and a savory cookie with Anise called Brigidini.

This small barge of fireworks was about 150 feet in front of me.

The Luminara was spectacular. Churches and buildings just glowed. The fireworks, timed to music, went on for about 45 minutes and were stunning. As I headed back to my lodging from the Arno, it began to rain. Far from discouraging the revelers, umbrellas and tents came out, and young people were dancing in the rain. I wish I had gotten them on film. 

The next morning, I headed over to the Piazza dei Miracoli to see Pisa’s most famous feature. And holy cow, does that thing lean. 

I wasn’t planning to climb it (Climb a tiny spiral staircase inside a building that’s falling over with a bunch of tourists? Great!), but when I arrived, they had a spot available in twenty minutes. So I went. Why not?

And it was terrific. So glad I went. At the bottom I took this photo which shows you exactly how much this tower leans. Freaky, right?

In addition to the tower, the Piazza houses the basilica, a Baptistry, and a cemetery. The Baptistry is famous for having beautiful acoustics, and while I was there, a docent came out to demonstrate.  Check out the link: Pisa Baptistry Acoustics

The cemetery is arranged in a rectangle with burials in the floor and walls. The inner courtyard was filled entirely with dirt brought from Jerusalem, apparently. The frescoes on the wall were receiving some badly needed restoration. 

Medieval artists were none to shy about detailing exactly what would happen to you if you misbehaved.

All of the streets surrounding the piazza were full of more sweet stalls and vendors selling everything from pet turtles to frying pans. The atmosphere was festive, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. I treated myself to some marzipan and sat out on the grass enjoying the beautiful day. 

A perfect picnic spot. All kinds of folks were sitting out in the sun against the medieval city walls.

Among the crowd of tourists pretending to push over/ hold up the tower was this fellow, carrying a rainbow flag that said “Pace”. Peace.

The Brigidini machines were mesmerizing. And I had to sample from several stalls. You know, for quality control.

After the beauty and excitement of the Luminara, the race was almost anticlimactic. It was still something to see the decorative wooden boats, but if it were up to me, I’d hold the race in the daylight hours. Still, I managed to find the most delicious gelato in all of Italy, tucked inconspicuously next to a small bar in the Piazza Garibaldi. 

The boats are lit up for the nighttime contest. My contrada (district), Santa Maria, wound up winning!

When Italy plays in the Euro cup, everyone heads to the bar.

These huge wooden boats are rowed 1500 meters upstream where one man jumps onto the platform and climbs a rope in order to win.

Burano

For my last day in Venice I planned to get out to Burano, famous for delicious seafood and brightly painted houses. I spent the morning wandering; having caffè and a cornetto here, strolling through a church or two there, before making my way to the vaporetto stop that runs out to the islands. I didn’t take many photos because I simply wanted to enjoy. That and the expedition I took to find what must be the only public bathroom in Venice filled the morning. 

Burano also has a leaning tower. To be honest, lots of things in Venice lean. They’re old and built on water. I took the stairs too quickly in my flat one day and almost crashed into the wall of the stairwell. 

The island is lovely and I took lots of time to stroll and enjoy it. At lunch I decided to be brave and try some new dishes. Burano is famous for its spaghetti with squid’s ink. Why not?  And since they had octopus in oil and lemon on the menu(and I firmly believe octopi are not to be trusted) I had a plate of that too. It was fantastic. 

The island has a beautiful green park to compliment all those bright houses. It was a calming and beautiful end to my time in Venice. 

Venice was a beautiful experience. There were things I didn’t get to do, like see a concert or a Commedia performance, mostly because I wasn’t there long enough. I’ll be back, and for longer next time. This city is a unique gem, and I enjoyed every minute. That being said, they could use a few more public restrooms 😉