You are here
Arrived at Villa di Piazzano outside of Cortona by traveling down a chalky white gravel road lined by a hundred Italian cypress trees. Through the gates was a pastoral three-story hunting manor from the 1500’s originally owned by Cardinal Silvio Passerini b.1469-d.1529. A spiral staircase with worn stone steps leads us to our room. The door was open and through 12′ high windows, you could see the verdant green Tuscan countryside. It has been raining here all summer and has cleared just in time for our visit. The open beamed ceilings are at least 15 high with a seating area large enough for a small party.
The outside dining area is under the trees lit by candles and old lampposts. Down a small staircase is a bracingly chilly pool long enough for laps, but warm enough for a workout before dinner. What was it like to dine in this hunting lodge 500 years ago? Could you order either mead or wine with the boar?
Italians have directional maps like those found in malls but many of them have no “You are here arrows”. I think it is because if you are really local why would you want to be anywhere but where you are? When you find a breathtaking spot like this there is absolutely no place you would rather be.
Piazzano, Italy September 10th, 2014
Late night pickup
The best part of today was after sunset when we Yelped for a good restaurant after busing/walking Florence all day.
It was a dark neighborhood on streets that curve and reveal their denizens step by step. We had already made two wrong turns looking for Trattoria Da Tito, not a restaurant in sight. Even I thought the GPS had bad deeds in mind. Then there was light, people, and 60’s music spilling out of a tiny door. Good news, the vibe was young and hip. Bad news, the people were queuing for dinner after 9:30. I’m usually in bed by 10. Tito said with a smile, our table would be ready at 10:30. Italians are so accommodating. Another couple that remembered the 60’s strolled up, wanting a table for two, Tito smiled as he looked at Vicki and me (mostly Vicki). I asked Tito where he eats when he’s not working. Walk for 15min, Gianino on the right, it’s good. This was an exercise in trust; what if there are no tables? As we walked away the other couple followed us. They must have figured we had a plan.
Not sure about a plan but we do have skills. Like, Oh where are you from? and how long have you been in Florence? Hey we’re Newcomers, we know how to do this.
Turns out that this is a nice couple from Nice Fr. They named their daughter Waimea, after the Oahu surf break that they have never seen. This stuff is too good to make up. The next thing we know its midnight and even Vicki is drinking Limoncello.
Thank you, Tito, and thank you Firenze.
September 7th, 2014 Firenze, Italy
What would Michelangelo think?
The ancient beauty and antiquities of the city are the palette for affordable kitsch. The marbleized paper maker is lost in his own town, his artisan neighbors have been replaced by bazaar types that import product to sell to the masses. But conversely, that’s what makes the artisan so valued. The search for the real thing is just a little more challenging. And when you find it buy it because when you return it may be only a memory.
Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it Michelangelo
Firenze, Italy September 6th 2014
On Italian time
If today was any indication of the direction of the trip, it’s going to be a great one. The flights were shorter than I thought. Italy is as near or as far as you imagine. From the air, Florence is a little bit like Santa Barbara but sprawling, older, more hills/towers, and greener. Okay, maybe the only thing that is similar is that both towns have red clay roofs.
The cab ride could be a Trip Advisor top attraction. For only 25E you can race through the streets and alleys, narrowly missing cars, pedestrians, and mopeds. I swear that some of those side view mirrors were less than two inches away. The only English that I heard was “Mission Impossible” as he dodged in front of a much less experienced driver again. Thank God we didn’t take the bus to the hotel, which would have been half the fun. Oh, by the way, do it at rush hour, there is more to miss.
