Category — Travel

Today was another good day.  I started a little moody, probably because I haven’t really worked out in a couple of months.  So I decided to go for a bit of a walk.  Deb had pointed out a beautiful hike from back above old Barga into the town.  I started out at the studio and walked the opposite direction than I usually go, out through the downtown and into the more residential parts.

I honestly don’t know how to use words to describe how gorgeous it was.  Here are some pictures.

As I snaked my way further and further away from Barga, along the inside of the hills, so that I was directly opposite the backside of the Duomo, I was treated to more and more beautiful views.

I picked a place on the side of the road to meditate a bit.  I thought the quiet stillness would be good.  As I cleared a space in the grass and went to sit down, I saw a strange movement in the grass.  I almost brushed it aside, when I realized it was a praying mantis!

How fantastic!  I have really early memories of seeing these.  We don’t have them in Idaho and Oregon, and I always heard they were good luck.  So, I sat down close enough that I could watch this little guy, but far enough that I wasn’t stressing him.

Together, we sat and looked at the world.  He watched the aunts walk around him and shuddered in the little breeze.  I stared at the amazing views of Barga and the mountains behind, and tried to concentrate on my breathing.  It wasn’t easy today.  I was very easily distracted by things like the olive tree next to me and the brilliance of evolution (I know, gasp!).

I’m quite sure I’ll have more walks around Barga.  There are so many beautiful little places that make me tear up with their sheer beauty and possibility.  But I might have to stick to meditating downtown.  The beauty of the countryside is too distracting.

So, after our exciting day of horses and dogs, we went voting – again.  The ladies joked that I’m starting to look more and more like a spy.  Too funny that I would hit elections both times I’m here.  Last time it was the local races, as well as the EU election.  This time, it was a party election for the secretary of the Democratic Party.  (I think.)

This time, we went voting with Deb’s family in Barga and then in Fornacci with Sandra.  This is the same area Sandra ran for city council in last time I was here, and it was fun to recognize some of the people.  (I wonder if they recognized me  –  the stranger who never speaks and only shows up at election time.)

There were some differences this time.

1.  They had to pay 2 Euro each to vote.

Fascinating.  Something like 2.5 million people voted (you didn’t have to be a member of the Democratic Party to vote), so the party made a cool 5 million Euro.  It was a record turnout for a minority party, which is interesting to political types.

2.  I wasn’t nearly arrested.  I wasn’t wearing a political button, but I did take some pictures.  I didn’t want to make people nervous, but Deb said it was fine, so I busted out the camera.  (Seriously, these people have to wonder what the hell I’m doing there.)

After voting, we headed to dinner with Deb’s family and some friends of theirs who are in town from England.  I swear I’ve met more people who are primary English speakers than Italian.  We had dinner at Caffe Capretz, a place that serves excellent pizzas.  While I was voting with the ladies, Deb’s sister ordered me this amazing masterpiece.  (Funny side story – like there’s a main story – when she told the owner that she wanted a vegetarian pizza he said, “okay, I’ll put some speck on it.”  This is something my grandfather would say.)  Deb had the “smiley” calzone.   Dessert was panna cotta with amarena (winter cherries)

At dinner, Deb’s youngest nephew, Andre, who is maybe 1 and a half, made friends with Bepe, the owner.  By the end of the night, he had learned his name, and Bepe brought him a special mandarin orange.  It reminded me of when my family traveled to Greece and the head of the kitchen used to bring my sister a bowl of special Queen Anne cherries.  When Andre saw Bepe this morning, he called out “Bepe!” and ran over to see him.

On the way home from dinner we had one of those great moments where we were all talking and laughing, and Sandra was enjoying it so much that she asked Deb to keep driving so that we could keep enjoying.  As we snaked through the roads of a town above Fornacci, Debbie came to a stop, with the headlights illuminating a wondrous thing.

Deb suggested that I must take a picture.  Well, yes, of course, but as I looked at the table I was overcome.  Tommy and I hopped out and reassembled the parts.  How could we not?  I’m like a 14 year old boy, and he IS a 14 year old boy.

There was even a ball!  Sandra and I tested it out.  Our hands flew, and the players whirred as they spun around.  The ball just rolled lazily around.  We had re-assembled the table, only to find out that the reason it had been abandoned was that the deck was so warped that the players could no longer reach the ball.  No worries!

The table came off the ground as we wrestled the table through the air.  Sandra labeled the experience, “artists at war.”  Fantastico!

It’s day two of my leap.

Because of the time change, day two is really two days: yesterday, the day I arrived (which was part of day one, I think) and today, which is about 48 hours after I left the US.

Here’s a recap:

Flight to Amsterdam was good. I got free upgrades for baggage and also my seat (thanks to my seat-mate for that last one).

Amsterdam had great chocolate and cappuccino.

That’s a rhubarb bonbon on the plate. Va bene.

The flight to Florence was good. Lots of turbulence, which I totally prefer on a small plane. Makes me feel like I’m in a car. The hum-drum of the big planes makes me a little nervous, like I’m on some alien aircraft that might not land (am I totally crazy? I might be totally crazy).

When I got to Florence, my friends Deb and Sandra were even there to pick me up! Serious bonus and kind of amazing seeing as we met for one day and communicated over the internet until yesterday. Deb even changed cars with her dad so we could fit all my luggage. Amazing.

We headed to a great pizza place for lunch on the way back to their home. The food was so good I forgot to take a picture until the cecina was almost gone.

Cecina is a kind of breadish thing made out of garbanzo beans. Yummy. Incidentally, while we were eating, I asked, tongue and cheek, if the pig flu was as big a deal in Italy as it is in the US. Evidently, Sandra and Deb’s son, Tommy, had it about a week ago. Sweet. He’s all good now. So, it’s not getting quite the hype here as elsewhere – although we did use a significant amount of hand sanitizer at lunch.

Then we stopped at the store to pick up provisions for that night’s dinner party, and some more hand sanitizer. Sidestory: while checking out, Sandra lost her rewards card when it was sucked backward into the moving belt in the check-out line. After partially disassembling the under-carriage of the counter, I found a card and recovered it. Sadly, after we checked out, Sandra realized it wasn’t hers! Too funny. Well, at least I got to take something apart. Then I used some hand sanitizer, just in case.

When we got to Fornaci di Barga, we dropped off the groceries and headed into Barga, which is up the hill from Fornaci, to switch cars and stop by the castagne festival at the old folks home. “Castagna” is “chestnut” in Italian. The trees grow locally, and are used in construction, and the nuts and flour are used in cooking and baking. We had some lovely castagne snacks, said, “caio” to some lovely old folks, met Deb’s dad, and a couple of Deb and Sandra’s friends who happened to be in town from Chicago. It was good times, for sure.

I asked what I was eating, and the ladies told me whipped cream. I’m telling you, this is not ordinary whipped cream. It was heaven. Maybe it’s changed since I last ate whipped cream, or maybe it was the setting. I don’t frickin’ know, but it was divine.

After the festival, we headed to Deb’s parent’s house to change cars, and say hi to Daisy.

The day, by the way, was beautiful. Warm, clear and lovely.
Once back at Deb and Sandra’s, we had about 30 mins before friends started to arrive. The evening was spent in the company of some fascinating people. First was a wild artist – beautiful and intense – who is known to walk the streets of Barga barefoot, promoting art exhibits. (More to come on her, I think. Deb showed me one of her etchings, and it was quite excellent.)

Next was a string of ladies from Lucca, the walled city down the road a way. It has a fascinating history. One of the women, a nurse originally from Genoa, reminded me strongly of my mother and aunt.

The other two are union organizers, one for the schools, and one for the workers in paper factories in the region. Cool. These two reminded me powerfully of union organizers I know in Oregon.

We spent the evening talking politics, figuring out how to build a loft in Deb and Sandra’s place (so that I’ll have a room of my own – can you imagine? These women are amazing, generous people), eating, eating, eating,

and eventually singing Beatles songs – learning each other’s languages along the way. Fantastico!

It’s also possible that Tommy and I snuck off for a short time to play some guitar hero. Amazing how easily that translates…

At the end of the night we made a lovely nest for me out of a mattress and sleeping bag. When my head hit the pillow, I was just able to grasp a piece of the enormity of the leap I had made. Today, I am comfortably in Italy. Yesterday (or something) I was in Oregon. Where will I be tomorrow? Probably Italy, but you never know!

***

This morning, waking late, I packed up my sleeping bag and enjoyed cappuccino #2, made lovingly by Sandra. Truthfully, it is one of the best I’ve ever had. It might have been the setting, or the company, I’m not sure.

I enjoyed breakfast with Tommy and Hollywinter, then headed to Barga with Deb for a photo shoot at the local dog shelter. She’s putting together a calendar to be sold to benefit the shelter. After a short shoot, which included a dog-bite [link] for Debbie, we headed over to her parent’s place, where we met her sister’s family (they’re living with her parents). One of the kids was on his way to a riding lesson, so we took the two boys to the arena.

We spent the next hour in an absolutely beautiful setting, collecting rocks and watching horses.

Now I’m sitting with Deb, drinking tea and watching Italian TV (Willie Wonka!), after a beautiful lunch with Sandra’s mother, who lives downstairs, and Sandra’s brother, sister-in-law (who is from Chicago) and their kids, all of whom had swine flu earlier this month. Looks like their tails have finally gone, so no worries.

The highlight of the meal was focaccia made by Sandra’s mom. Bellisimo!

Tomorrow, I’ll go pick up a sim card for a cell phone and an internet pen drive. And I’ll likely have at least one cappuccino. I feel like I’ve already had a month’s worth of adventures. I am a lucky, lucky girl to have such beautiful and generous people in my life.

So, I’m in the Amsterdam airport, waiting for my flight to Italy.  It was a long flight, and will probably be a very long day.  But, so far it’s been a good one.

I don’t know if you’ve flown lately (flown is a word, right?  It looks weird right now.  Maybe my compression socks are effecting my brain.  Effecting?  Affecting?  See!?!?!), but the airlines are charging for stupid things.  You want to bring an extra bag?  $50.  You want an aisle seat?  $50.  This morning I wanted both.

I’m bringing an extra suitcase full of snacks and whatnot that I can bring fun things back in.  That’s in addition to my big pack that has all my clothes etc.  So, I checked in, used my credit card to pay for the extra bag, and then got a message that I qualified for a discount, and the bag was free!  Fabulous!

Then came the seat selection.  I was in a window seat (which is better than the middle seat on the big plane), but could upgrade to a “premium” seat (read aisle-seat) for $50.  I seriously considered it.  I mean, what’s another $50 if it’s going to make my trip significantly better?  (I get restless legs on long flights.  In fact, my doctor recommended compression socks, so I’m wearing awesome, therapeutic socks today.  They’re working, though, so I’m pretty happy.)

When it came down to it, I have a moral issue with charging for things like an aisle seat.  I know everyone can’t have one, and I know it’s the market.  I also know that if I get my ticket early enough, I should be able to get something like an aisle seat.  I’m tired, so I’m not even going to try to make a cogent argument here.  I am going to use the word cogent, though.  Cogent.  Anyway, I can get a veggie meal if I ask for it early enough.  (Which was yummy, by the way.  Both meals were totally better than the non-veggie options.)  So, I didn’t buy the seat.

After like 20 mins of saying goodbye to Leigh (I might have had a hard time saying goodbye.  Just saying.)  I made it to the gate just in time to board.

As I walked onto the plane, there was a young woman talking on a cell phone right in front of me.  She was seriously engrossed in her phone call, and totally oblivious to the fact that I was the person sitting on the inside of her “premium seat”.  I stood there patiently, and eventually she moved from the aisle and saw that I was waiting.  We sat down and exchanged the usual, where you headed, info.  Turns out she had been scheduled on a flight that was canceled and that’s why she was on the phone – figuring out how everything was going to work.  Also turns out, she wanted to sleep, and generously offered me her aisle-seat.  Fabulous!  Free upgrade!

She was a great seat-mate, and we spent some quality time laughing at the products in “SkyMall”.  Hopefully she’s on her way to Sweden right now, where she’ll find a fabulous leap for me to take.

Yay for free upgrades!  Now I need to go see if I can get someone to upgrade me some liquid chocolate…stay tuned.

I packed up my clothes last night.  Just put them in plastic tubs to go to storage.  It was a strange experience.  (I’ve had a lot of those lately.)  It took less time than I thought it would.  Evidently, it doesn’t take that many clothes to be extremely well dressed…

I also packed up my backpack with most everything I’ll be taking and wore it around the house – in my new shoes.  The animals think I’m insane.

My little sister is a big-wig buyer for a sporting/technical clothing company.  When I asked her what she thought I should bring on the trip she responded, “Uh, duh.  Icebreaker, Icebreaker, Icebreaker.”  She was right, of course.  Those who work with me know my love of Icebreaker products.  For the last year I’ve worn Icebreaker to work probably 70% of the time.  So, why not wear it for trekking around?  That’s what it’s made for after all!

If you’re not familiar with Icebreaker, here’s the deal:  It’s the most comfortable, beautiful merino wool company.  You can actually track the shirt you wear back to a specific sheep in New Zealand.  Awesome.  I’ll probably have to go visit the sheep when I’m in that neck of the woods.

I’m going to put a packing list up  so that you all can comment and let me know if I’m forgetting anything.  Here’s a sneak peak:

Icebreaker mid weight sweater
Icebreaker base shirt
Icebreaker other base shirt
Icebreaker another base shirt
Icebreaker light weight x2

I’ve got a couple of Icebreaker t-shirts that I need to pick up and then I should be good to go.  Fortunately, there’s an Icebreaker retail store in Portland!  Truthfully, these are made so that I could use one shirt for the entire duration of my first 6-week trip.  They stay warm even when wet, they’re very breathable, soft, fast-drying and even keep odors down.  I think it’s probably important to be fashionable, however, so I’m bringing them all.  I mean, I am going to Italy after all.

I’m fairly sure you’ll be hearing about my Icebreakers on a regular basis, as I’m pretty much in love with them.

You’re probably asking yourself, “how much did Icebreaker pay Kristin to talk about their products?”  Here’s the answer – zero – for now.  I’ll let you know when they start paying me.

(Note to Icebreaker staff:  I would gladly accept sponsorship dollars, and would be a perfect candidate for any type of travel testing.)