The lights of Rome

After 4 weeks in hill towns and quiet medieval streets, I admit, I was trepidacious about coming to Rome.  Going from a small farm over Assisi to what has often been refered to as the birth place of civilization seemed daunting to say the least.  And the endless stream of warnings about scams and pickpockets made me think that perhaps Rome is just one of those should go places rather than want to go.

Our last couple days in Umbria were spent relaxing or exploring a couple of hill towns.  On Monday, we came down from our olive tree perch to explore the town of Orvieto.  Like many Umbrian towns, this one sits at the top of a hill in order to ensure a better defence. However, Orvieto is also ringed by steep cliffs that drop precipitously from the town walls giving the impression of a stone nest.  The best way to reach the town is by funicular from the surrounding valley.  The parking lot for the funicular had the added advantage of being beside AGV tracks, Italy's high speed train.  There was more than a little excitement at that when the first bullet went swooshing down the tracks.

The funicular lets you out at a wall top park with wonderful views of the Umbrian patchwork valley of olive fields, vineyards and rolling greens as far a the eye can see.  There is a straight shot shop-lined road up to the centro of the old town, with a fair number of ceramics shops which is a specialty of the area - much of it with colourful, packed patterns with vines or fruit.

Orvietto's biggest claim to fame was as the temporary home of two escaping popes when Rome was sacked, and the duomo in its central piazza is a testament to its history.  It's gothic facade is ripe with statuary, carvings and frescos that tell a myriad of Catholic stories.  

It is the inside of the cathedral though that really impresses.  Thanks to an optical allusion (the nave widens as it moves away from the alter), the church seems especially grand as you walk in and look up the nave.  Standing at the front, however, the church seems a lot shorter.  There are no permanent pews in the church, so it is an open nave giving the visitor the definite impression of being drawfed by the dramatically high ceilings.  The two side chapels are graced with extensive works of art, one seeming to recreate a Dantesque plot, while the other houses a cloth purported to have been bled on during communion by a miracle performed by a skeptical priest in the 13th century.  Hard to imagine it, but the cloth has been housed in Orvieto for a little under 600 years.  Something that is imminently possible in this part of the world, but unimaginable in North America.

In addition to the cathedral, we took a stroll along the ramparts, trying to imagine an invading army even considering scaling those cliffs.  As it happens, none did as Orvieto's natural defences seemed enough to deter any marauding armies for centuries.  Now, the town is only overrun by tourists gazing at the cathedral and buying ceramics.

Dinner was in Todi, another little hill top town on the way back to Assisi, also accessed by funicular.  The guidebook described it as the prettiest little hill top town in Umbria.  Perhaps it was the recent barrage of hill top town experiences, but I confess Todi underwhelmed me.  

It was relatively small, and the main piazza was somehow lacking a focal point.  Though there was a cathedral, it seemed removed from the square and disconnected.  We wound up having dinner at a small restaurant where we were one of only two tables.  When we were asking the chef about some of the dishes, rather than try to explain or deal with our monosyllable Italian, he invited us into the kitchen to show us.  Not the best meal (though the pomadoro sauce was excellent), but fun to get a little personal attention.

After a second day of chilling by the pool, it was time to pack up for Roma.  On our way to the big city though, we stopped in the small little town of Bomazo to visit their Parco dei Monstri, loosely translated as Monster Park.  It is a 16th century garden strewn with massive rock carvings of fantastical and mythical creatures.  It was originally built by a 16th century duke in memory of his wife, but was left in obscurity after his death, only to be rediscovered in the 1960s and turned into a visitors park.

We hit Rome in the late afternoon, giving us time to partake of the passeggiata, or late afternoon stroll, from Piazza del Popolo to Campi di Fiori.  In addition to passing high end shops, we passed obelisks pilfered from Egypt by Roman emperors, the altar of the Emperor Augustus, 2000 year old columns now integrated into a government building and the Patheon.  I mean, really does that not sound a little crazy?  What must you have in a city for the ancient to be so common place.  

We spent time watching the scores of tourists trying to actually fathom how it could be that they are standing beneath a massive dome built in the first century and the inspiration for Michealangelo and every single domed structure since the creation of the Pantheon.  How can I describe the fact that on an afternoon stroll, we sat on the Spanish steps, touched 2000 year old sculpted rock, saw the house that John Keats died in, and peaked through windows at frescos hundred of years old that hang casually in government buildings and private apartments? It is Rome seems the only words.

After dinner is a small piazza near Campi di Fiori, we took Rome in by night and watched the lights turn on and the carnival emerge.  Street performers and artists, cafés spilling with patrons, restaurant patios cluttering onto streets, and lit up fountains that magically dance in the night.  We also watched a  miming clown pick up Ren to include him in a street show (he 'married' him to little girl across the piazza). 

While Rome was indeed overwhelming after weeks in the countryside, I now understand the expression "all roads lead to Rome" and can almost forgive Italians for thinking that this place is the center of the known universe.

The parting shot tonight is an example of the commonplace nature of the spectacular. 

Sleeping in

I can't rightly remember the last time I comfortably slept in.   That kind of sleep-in where you don't feel there is anything to get gone, and so even though you wake at the usual hour, you linger in bed until sleep overtakes you again, only to wake 20 minutes later surprised that you had just nodded off.  That has been my last few days.

We are more or less keeping close to Italy time.  Late mornings, late dinners.  We've been sitting down to eat dinner around 8 and watching the light slowly fade, counting the bats coming out for the evening hunt, and listening to the frogs beginning their chorus.  It's a restful way to spend an evening and I am developing an appreciation of the Italian lifestyle.  

Typically, people head to work between 9 and 10, take their midday meal around 1:30, shutting down the shop or leaving the office for at least 2 or 3 hours, returning between 3:30 and 5, finally closing for the evening around 7 or 8.  This is especially true of the area where in now, which is largely rural and where the towns are smaller and more traditional in their lifestyle.

Last night, we joined other guests at the b&b for a typcial Umbrian meal hosted by the owners.  There were 18 people in all, and no one other than us spoke much English.  We joined a couple of other families with children between the ages of 3 and 11, and a very affectionate couple who spent more time nibbling at each other's ears than nibbling on the food.  There were some awkward moments where hand gestures wound up being the most effective form of communication, but all in all an enjoyable evening.  The food was tasty and plentiful, with multiple courses, including 3 antipasti.  It was all good, but my favourite were the potatoes with eggs and rosemary.  It felt like we had crashed a family dinner party, and I spent much of the meal trying to catch the occasional word in the table conversation.  By the time I had finished my 3rd glass of wine and the moscato and biscotti came out, I was convinced that I knew exactly what was going on.  Until my dying day, I will swear they were talking about the carabinieri blockading the road because of a goat dancing with a giraffe!  And no one can prove otherwise.  The kids even managed to makes friends with the others there, playing a variety of games outside after dinner with only the occasional child popping in to ask "Coment dise"?

Other than that, we've just been hanging out.  Yesterday morning, we visited a local Saturday market in Perugia that was set up in a large parking lot.  It was pretty typical of the temporary markets I've visited here, produce and clothing stalls being the main staple of the market.  There are a couple types of clothing stalls - cheap, mainly light, some of it designer knock off clothing which you can try on by stepping into the vendor's van parked behind the stall, and stalls with mountains of second hand clothing priced at 1€ a piece scattered across tables.  There last were by far the more popular stalls among women shoppers.  There are also several kitchen trucks selling porcheta sandwiches, one of which was served with grilled onions and peppers, and was really rather mouth watering (yup, we tried it).

While most of the stalls were identical, we were a little taken aback when we rounded into one line of stalls to find live poultry for sale - chickens, chicks, ducklings and a variety of other edible birds that you could take home in a cardboard box for a few euro.  The kids begged, we explained that they do not allow live poultry on the plane and that they'd be confiscated by CBSA. 

Hovering over the market was a futuristic monorail with what looked like a horizontal cable car running along it.  We hadn't heard of any reference to this previously, but it turns out that this Minimetro runs from this massive parking lot to the center of the old town.  Given that we had a train lover in our midst, and really no other plans, we took the train back into the old town of Perugia for lunch.  The Minimetro only runs for 8 stops, most if it above ground, so it wasn't a bad way to get a bit of a bird's eye view of the city (albeit a low flying bird).  We ducked into a little trattoria just as the sky opened up and a booming thunder storm settled over the town.  Once again, the stone walls made for dramatic crashes and booms as the thunder rolled across the valley and rocketed between the buildings.  Dry and cozy in the trattoria, we left only after the rain lightened.  

By the time we got back to our little cottage the rain had stopped and the blue sky was filled with swollen cottony, but very white, clouds and no sign of any rain having ever occurred.  I went for a run, while Kohji and the kids went for a walk.  Needless to say, there are no flat runs around here, so my Ottawa valley legs (which have not really run in over a month) were not exactly happy about this little venture.  There is, however, something special about seeing a place while jogging through its roads and lane ways.  Whenever I travel, I try to get a run or two in, as it gives me the opportunity to see a place in a unique way.  In this instance, I ran through olive groves, along vineyard fields and up to the gates of stone villas hundreds of years old.

Today being Sunday, we decided to join Italians in their day of rest.  So, we made liberal use of the pool, leaving only at lunch to find the only bar open in the nearby town of Petrinagno (our first microwaved meal in all of Italy, but what could be expect on a Sunday afternoon).  

It's been nice to just enjoy our surroundings and not push on to the next destination.  It is uncharacteristic for us when we travel, and it took a couple days for us to get in the groove, but today was probably the kids' favourite. Poolside all day, microwaved hamburger paddies for lunch, movie in the early evening after pretty much swimming all day.  Today was their idea of a vacation, and it gave me my chance to finally not loose at a game of Uno!

Final shot tonight captures the spirit of the day.  Good night from near Assisi.

Slowing down

It's not often that we slow down as a family.  There is always something to get done, something to see, somewhere to be.  It's a pattern that we bring with us on vacation, always wanting to see what is around the next corner, in the next town.

But on this trip, we have consciously decided to slow down on our last week.  We're staying at a kind of bed and breakfast up in the hills above Assisi.  The property itself is actually an olive farm, but it is not quite large enough to bill itself as an agriturismo.  The owners live on the first floor of the main building, a 17th century tower that they converted into a larger house, while the upper two floors are apartments.  Our place is a little one room cottage close to the main house that at one time was the pig house.  The view into the valley is really rather remarkable, especially in the early evening.

There is a certain character to the light in this part of the world.  It somehow seems warmer, more relaxing, than in many places I've been and it's particularly at its best in the late afternoon.

The property has a pool and the house has a little kitchen, so we've decided this seems a wonderful place to just stop and smell the Italy.  Right now, I am sitting at the little table in front of our cottage, taking in the view and blogging at a reasonable hour instead of at midnight as is often the case.  

We've checked out the local grocery store, trying to figure out how to order 100 grams of salame in uni-syllable Italian, we've swam in the pool, dodging some monster deer flies, and enjoyed the views from our front table watching the late afternoon light gently drift into evening light.  The timing is right both because it is our last week before we rejoin the real world, and because the kids are really starting to miss their friends and home.  Five weeks is a long time to be away, and even longer to be stuck with just your parents,  

We haven't been completely idle though.  Thursday, we headed into Assisi, the birthplace of St. Francis, the patron saint of Italy.  The town is built in a hillside, like many In Italy, but this one is more obviously steeped and the route of any wander through the town is up towards the church of St. Francisca.  Not surprisingly given than the town is a Catholic pilgrimage site, there are a number of trinket shops selling religious memorabilia as you ascend the hill.  My absolute favourite were the little figurines of monks in brown cossaks playing soccer!

While many of the churches we've stepped into on our trip here are hushed and there is a degree of reverence among the visitors, the ones in Assisi felt more like working churches than museums.  One church had the foundations and pillars of a Roman temple that was converted into a Christian church in the 1100s.  It was by far the oldest things I'd ever set foot on - stone steps that were over 1000 years old.  It was really a little mind-blowing to think that anything could stand for that length of time.  The kids were less impressed, but did note that there was a lot of bird poop on 1000 year old buildings.

The streets of Assisi are narrow like many of the other hill and medieval towns we'd visited, but there was a different feel to it, perhaps because of the inclines.  I couldn't put my finger on why it felt a little different.  Perhaps it is the omnipresent flower boxes dripping from the windows.  

It turns out there is a flower box competition in Assisi every June and the boxes are the risidual.  It adds green and colour to otherwise stone grey streets and lanes.  

There are also fewer tourists here, which may actually be a character of Umbria generally.  The region doesn't have the same reputation as neighbouring Tuscany, especially outside of Italy.  Most of the tourists are Italians escaping the sweltering cities.  English speaking service people are rarer, and there is generally less of a sense of the buildings and cities being on display.

One really cool find was a small museum dedicated to the inventions of Leonardo Da Vinci.  Based on his diaries and drawings, craftsmen and engineers have actually recreated some of his machines out of materials that would have been available.  Many of the machines explored Da Vinci's fascination with reorientation force and included cogs, bearings and of course some if the flying machines that never left the page in Da Vinci's time. It gave me a renewed appreciation for the genius of the man - that he could conceive of the first ever know tank and paint the Mona Lisa.

Lunch was truffles and porcheta, both are regional specialties in Umbria.  More truffles are found in Umbrian solid than anywhere else in the world.  And they are good!  We've had tuffle cream sauce and truffles in oil, and for what looks like blobs of petrified wood, they are wonderfully delicately flavoured.  The pork here also seems to be more flavourful than what we're used to.  Not only was the porcheta sandwich melt in the mouth flavour, twice now, we have pan fried chops for dinner and they were bursting with flavour.  Dessert was meringues from a shop dedicated to then and housing a rainbow of massive meringues that could have doubled as beehives (whether the hairdo or the bee home, I'll let you decide).

After lunch, we wandered Assisi, stumbling into the church of Ste Clara, the first female follower if St. Francis.  Unlike most churches which are thickly ornate with every inch of space covered with artistic wonders or brilliant stained glass, Ste Clara was a medieval style church with a long nave and white wash on most of the walls.  There were a few frescos around the pulpit, but most of the church was bare walls, so that the eyes were inevitably drawn to the pulpit and cross.

Curiously, we also stumbled into a church that was in the midst of restoration.  It felt like we had stepped into a Dan Brown novel.  Large scaffolds lined the walls, surrounded by gause like white sheets through which we could just make out the craftsmen meticulously cleaning the frescos with small paint brushes.   

Friday, it was a short trip to the commune di Perugia where we got a much better sense of an Italian August.  He town is bigger and much more of a commercial town.  While we'd seen some shops closed for holidays, because we've mainly been in touristy areas, there hasn't been the same summer emptying out in most places.  After all, Lucca and Florence earn their bread and butter on the holiday trade.  Perugia, however, isn't such a tourist draw, though it does have an interesting old town.  As a result, there is definitely a feeling of something missing when we wandered the streets.  

It wasn't empty, but rather, felt more like it was at a Sunday pace.  There were also a lot of shops closed for the mid-day meal and when we meandered through the quieter back alleys, there was very little sounds of human habitation.  

Perugia as well is built on a hill, but unlike a lot of hill towns, it has kept the downward facing side of the  many of e streets open so that you there are clear views of the lower sections of the city and the green valley below.  

The streets are also wider and rather than churches being the center pieces of the main piazza, there are several piazzo, or palaces, that anchor the square in space and time.  There is a more modern feel to Perugia, although by modern, I would say that it is more like Renaissance than medieval.  There also seems to be more of a 21st century presence, though the architecture and streets are firmly linked to previous eras.  

Despite the modern touches, there are elements of the city that are incontrovertibly linked to its past - a subterranean city built in the Renaissance era to keep the city's inhabitants save from invaders.  The underground streets and lanes and almost ghostly giving the impression that the inhabitants have only recently vacated, though it is clear that the alleys and cavern like rooms haven't been used in centuries.

Dinner the last couple nights have been in front of our little cottage listening to the frogs, the dogs on neighbouring properties and generally watching night settle over the valley.

The parting shot for tonight is just goofing with the camera (note that no Miller children were harmed in the making of this photo).

Italian mosquitoes

Who knew there were mossies in Italy?!

It took us a couple days to catch on, enjoying the nice evening air flowing through the apartment.  It was a quiet block, and contrary to what we had expected, the evenings were nice and refreshing and the humidity low.  But Kiyomi kept waking up with more and more spots.  At first, we thought a single mosquito got into her room and had a heck of a buffet.  But it finally dawned on us, there are mossies in Italy.  By the time we figured it out and closed the windows, Kiyomi had over 70 bites on her.  This was not the best parenting moment of my mommy career, but really this wasn't the Whiteshell, it was a a medieval town.  Apparently the wall could keep out invaders, but had no impact on mossies.

As we were nearby on Monday, we couldn't resist the call of the beach.  Viareggio is a white sand beach town about a 25 minute drive from Lucca where the Italians head to vacation.  If it isn't actually the Italian Riviera, it sure feels like it.  The beach itself is actually quite nice; white, soft sand with a gentle pitch into the water.   Don't expect peace and serenity however as every inch of the beach is claimed by what seemed like 100s of bagnio, private beaches lined with deck chairs and umbrellas.  The bagnio are lined up side by side along the whole length of the beach, each demarcated by their respective colour of beach umbrella creating colourful slices.  Most have little restaurant areas and some have pools, for which you pay extra to access.  We expected it to be a total zoo crawling with summer revelers, but it was actually quite quiet and there was lots of space on the beach to play. 

We elected the cheapest option of umbrella and a couple of beach chairs, and we were escorted to the back of the line of deck chairs dutifully taking our spot.  Apparently the spots can be reserved for up to 3 days at a time, so I'm guessing getting near the water is highly unlikely.  The kids set to work right away digging a big hole on the beach.  I've come to the realization though that sandcastle making and hole digging is not something that Italian kids do; not only were none of them doing it, but a great many beach goers looked at us and the kids with perplexed curiosity as we embarked on our standard beach activity - dig a big hole in the sand and fill it with water.  As with Cinque Terre, I also notice that 98% of the women on the beach wear bikinis.  Young, old, skinny, larger, smooth or wrinkled skin - it made no difference, the bikini was the standard attire.  Not for the first time, I wished that North American women shared the comfort and confidence in their bodies that Italian women have mastered.  

The highlight of the day for me was heading up to the cantina around 5 to get a drink, and discovering that these wonderful cream filled donut like pastries had just arrived still warm from the baker.  At first I thought they were standard fair, but when I went up 15 minutes later, they were all gone (and no, it wasn't to get a second one!).  Despite the strangeness of having a beach overrun by lines of umbrellas, I did find there was something rather civilized about having comfy deck chairs, a little table, a beach umbrella and the ability to walk a few paces to grab lunch or a ice cream in a sand free cantina.  

Tuesday was split between Lucca and Pisa, which is only a 20 minute drive away.  In the morning we went in search of a couple of shops that we had wanted to explore, and, as had been planned by the original designers of these medieval cities, getting to your destination is never straight forward and you can find yourself waylaid.  Of course, the designers were hoping to delay and confuse enemy invaders, now it just serves as an advantage to a town that caters to tourists trying to waylay them into stores and cafés.  I actually met a shop keeper who had been born in Quebec, but moved to Italy when she was young.  Despite having been in Italy for more that 35 years, she still proudly proclaimed herself to be a Quebecoise, and surprisingly still retained her accent when speaking French.

As a result of the shopping labyrinth, it was late afternoon before we arrived in Pisa to check out the infamous tower.  It is rather amazing to me that an engineering error has effectively ensured the global notoriety of this otherwise non descript little town.  We parked not far from the centro, and as per our guidebook instructions, got on a bus from this large parking area.  What we didn't know is that the bus ride was all of 3 minutes!  Needless to say, we walked back.

I will say that the Leaning Tower is indeed impressive to see, and you get to do it with obout 10,000 of your closest friends.  It is not a quiet little out of the way tourist find that's for sure.  It is a prime stop on the bus tour extravaganza.  The Baptisty and Duomo are equally as impressive as the challenged tower, but somehow receive short shrift against the engineering oopsy.  

That said, it is worth seeing and we dutifully made our rounds and took pictures with distorted perspective that make it look like the tower is being held up.  I mean, really how can you come to Pisa and not?  After getting the iconic shot, we spent a good 45 minutes playing some variation of ultimate freebie crossed with soccer, and using baseball cap for a ball.   Not sure how it all came about, but the pictures from it are awesome, if a little less iconic.  It also made me notice that there has been precious little accessible green space of our travels, with most lawns cordoned off.

Dinner in Pisa was at an Indian-Italian restaurant.  After weeks of pasta and bread, the idea of curry and rice was appealing.  We were, however, the only customers in the place.  Made me wonder if Italians just don't really have any interest in ethnic food as we've seen very few restaurants that don't serve your Italian fare.  Curiously, though it billed itself as an Indian-Italian restaurant, there wasn't a pizza or pasta on the menu, but the naan was tasty.

Wednesday, we headed into the hills of Tuscany...on horses.  Yup, the Miller-Suzukis suited up and went a ridin'.  While the route was not far, it was interesting to see the country from the back of a horse.  Mia, Genevre, Indio and Bandito were kind to us as were the two guides who led the kids' horses.  Although, my horse and I had a bit of an ongoing misunderstanding - I wasn't supposed to let her eat grass and she knew I had no idea what I was doing so snuck grass at every possible opportunity.  I could see the appeal to traveling by horse back, that is until I dismounted and my thighs were screaming and I realized the amount of core strength needed to sit on a horse!  According to Rossie, the owner of Lucca horseriding, riders are rather good at yoga and vice verse as both use similar muscles.  

After our first menu oppsy at a little cafe crawling with lunching polizia (we ordered a pasta with shrimp, and only after thought to look up what the heck shrimp is in Italian), we were off to Assissi.  Our place here is on the hillside between Assissi and Perugia and looks out over olive groves and the little hillside town of Assisi famous for its native son, St Francis.  Arriving here in late afternoon gave us time to hit the local grocery store and have a little swim in the pool before a nice quiet home cooked meal in our little cottage.  After weeks of travel, we are heading into our relaxation week, so here's hoping it will take and we will let ourselves slow down a wee little bit.

The parting shot tonight shows a cool shot of the iconic tower.  Good night from Assissi.

 

Pasta overdose

After a couple days of lounging, we have spent the last couple in moving in the opposite direction.

Saturday dawned early for us as Kiyomi and I were off to Chef Paulo Monti's Cooking School for a crash course in pasta.  It was a half day course, so I was expecting that we'd prepare a couple of sauces and try our hand at a pasta or two.  Boy, was I off the mark.  By the end of out time with Chef Paulo, we had made 12 sauces and 5 different flavours of pasta, and 5 or 6 different shapes.

The day started by meeting the chef, who was fashionably late, at about 8 in front of his restaurant.  Kiyomi and I were joined by a trio of ladies from New Mexico - a mother and daughter trip to Italy with 3 generations.  We had all been standing there for about 15 minutes when the chef pulled up.  Seems he had miscounted now many of us had also signed up for the market tour, so when he saw there was 5 of us, he sat the ladies in the back and Kiyomi and I rode shotgun with her on my lap.  It wasn't as bad as it sounds.  She is so tall on my lap now that I can't see anything, so whatever near misses there were, I was blissfully oblivious about.

The "market" was not what I had expected.  I was imagining a big open air marke with produce, meat, cheese and all the smells and chaos that entails.  But it was actually a wholesale store for restaurants, basically a costco-like store with memeberbship only open to restauranteurs, and an 80s soundtrack on the PA system.  Anything needed to run or even start a restaurant could be found at this market.  Never mind soup to nuts, this market had cheese to industrial stoves and everything imaginable in between.  And they are serious about it as well, as evidenced by the fact that we were asked not to take any photos inside the store.  We visited produce, all of which was a much higher grade that what we typically see at our local grocery store, got tips on how to buy fresh fish (it's all in the eyes), learned about parmigiana in a massive refrigerated cheese room, oogled big hunks of prosciutto, and even learned what type of flour is best for which type of cooking (interesting that Manitoba flour is the preferred for cakes and croissant).

After that, it was back to the kitchen where chef Paolo had us going full tilt.  The restaurant is on the outskirts of Lucca and is set up with a teaching kitchen as well as a main one.  Once the 5 of us tromped into the teaching kitchen, we were immediately set to work chopping, while Paulo regaled us with pun after pun.  He tried particularly hard to impress Kiyomi, but with every pun, she'd just stare at him blankly.  

At one point, she did lean over to me and say "these yolks are cracking me up", so in spirit she was there, but her face was betraying none of that.  We started with stock, before moving on to 3 basic tomato sauces that were the basis for many of the others.  When we were all done, we had 11 pots of sauce in all and had already chowed down each on a plate of carbonara that we had helped make.  

After sauces, it was fresh pasta, and again, it seemed in no time we were staring at 5 balls of colourful pasta dough.  We rolled, cut, stuffed and then tada!  Large plates of beautifully coloured and shaped pasta ready for cookin'.  

I still don't know whether pasta is indeed really easy to make or if the chef just made it look easy.  Of course it helps when you get to ring a little bell, and out pops a sous chef to do your bidding, and Paulo made use of that bell many times over the course our time with him.  I think I've decided rather than the fancy pasta rollers or the great sauce pots, I want me one of those bells!

After the cooking came the eating.  It was at this point that I realized it is indeed possible to overdose on pasta.  Even though we were getting small portions of each, by the 5th or 6th sample, I was starting to feel sauces coming out my ears.  Not that it stopped me of course.  Kiyomi had the good sense to stop around the 5th or 6th, but I had helped make each one of those sauces and I was damned if I wasn't going to try them all.  I needed to be rolled out of that kitchen in a wheelbarrow.  I've heard of meat sweats before, but I think I experienced a pasta coma.  By the time we made it home, all I could do was sit on the couch and digest.

While Kiyomi and I were busy learning the pasta secrets of an Italian kitchen, Kohji and Ren rented bikes for a toodle along Lucca's Fiume Serchio (river than runs through the newer part of Lucca).  I'm glad I wasn't along for this particular venture.  I don't think I could have handled watching a helmet less Ren (don't have the here unless you're renting a serious road bike), negotiate some of those narrow streets to get along the river.

To offset some of the pasta catatonia, I managed to haul out my running shoes and went for a very short run with a number of Luchessi on the wall.  It was a pleasant late afternoon, not too hot, and enjoyable trotting along the top of the wall, allowing a little more blood to flow to my stomach.  That said, I was more than happy that we stayed in for dinner, and that we decided to make rice and meatballs, of which I ate very little.  The evening was capped off by watching Real Madrid loose to Fiorentina.  Seems Premier League started again on August 15, so I'm taking advantage of our big screen tv!

On Sunday, we headed 40 minutes up the A11 to Firenze.  Although Kohji and I had been there just last year, we thought it would be fun to take the kids.  Florence is really like a massive outdoor museum, so what a better way to take the kids to a museum than one that they can run, laugh, even screech in without creating undo stress.  

Last time we had been there, we hadn't experienced Florence on a Sunday in the middle of August.  While thankfully not sweltering, the scores of people in the main piazza in front of the Duomo was surreal!  Looking at the marvel that is the Duomo (spectacular carved relief in marble, elegantly chiseled columns) was near impossible without being jostled and having to jockey for viewing position.  It actually became far more entertaining to watch the illegal vendors scatter every time the Carabinieri came by.

We moved on to the piazza dela Signiori which is home to Neptune, David and Medusa among others.  The kids did seem to enjoy the startuary, and shockingly, there weren't even any giggles or comments about naked men!  Perhaps it was because it was harder to see from their vantage point with the number of people crowded around, but not a peep about male or female anatomy.

After lunch from a sandwich shop just across the Arno River, and gelato of course, we headed for the rather calmer and cooler Boboli Gardens behind the Petti Palace, the former home of the Medici clan.  The gardens are formal, grandiose and just the ticket for a reprief from the crowds.   We spent a good couple of hours exploring, and took in the views from the top of the park - one over Florence itself, the other into the Tuscan hills.  

The Gardens are actually built on a bit of a hill, so you climb as you stroll through them.  

There are tree canopies, wonderful over the top fountains, arched bushes that leave the impression of being pulled along as you move through them, and large stone or marble statues or hidden gargoyles at every turn.  

It is easy to imagine one of the Medici clan, former Renaissance era powerful ruling family, strolling through these gardens.

We spent the rest of the day, including dinner, avoiding the vendors and taking in the chaos that is Florence at its touristic height.  An earlish dinner at a favourite Florentine restaurant (strange that I actually have one of those now), which did not disappoint and a late night ride back to Lucca.  

Arriving in the city after dark gave us a chance to see the scale of the wall with an evening glow, making for an imposing feeling especially as we walked towards them.  

The parting shot for tonight is a pretty much typical Kohji pose.  Good night from Lucca.