I am writing from a hotel in Milan, bone tired from a long day of craaaazy city driving (Vespas swarming like wasps...OH!) and hot, humid weather. Milan was a shock to the system after Bonvicino. I prefer the latter. Instead of fireflies and stars, we have noisy buses and litter.
On a final bright note, our last dinner in Italy was fantastic. We ate at a small restaurant (seating for maybe 20 people?) called Latteria. This is a neighborhood place with Milanese home cooking. It wasn't even like eating out. In a good way. I had brown rice with cauliflower, raisins, fennel, and pine nuts, and a chicory salad. Brad had a delicious puree of zucchini and a cold chicken and veal salad. Alex had gnocchi and then spaghetti. We shared all of the desserts. The chef, an older man (70's?) stopped at each table: "Molto bene?" It was a nice way to eat: a rustic, home cooked meal in a big city.
So, that's it for the Gallivanting Galliens...at least this trip. Thanks for reading!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Day Nineteen: Mecca
While the guys were playing Foosball in piazzas and exploring castles, Carole, Audrey, and I drove to Bra, home of the Slow Food organization. We found their headquarters and were able to say hello and buy some t-shirts and posters. It was pretty exciting for Audrey and me. Bra is a cute little town, perfect for window shopping and people watching from caffes.
We met the owners of Villa San Lorenzo tonight, Clay and Tamar McLachlan and their darling daughter Isabella. Clay was kind enough to share an evening glass of champagne with us outside at the stone table. They seem like lovely people - we were sorry to have met them so late in the trip.
Tomorrow: Milan and then home!
We met the owners of Villa San Lorenzo tonight, Clay and Tamar McLachlan and their darling daughter Isabella. Clay was kind enough to share an evening glass of champagne with us outside at the stone table. They seem like lovely people - we were sorry to have met them so late in the trip.
Tomorrow: Milan and then home!
More cowbell
I cannot even begin to explain this, but here it is. Blue Oyster Cult, number 20, via Roma, Bossolasco, Italy. Rock on!
What's a lord to do...
So, you've got 14 castles and 50 estates littering Piedmonte, so what's next? Another castle of course! This one was added in 1340 (that is no typo...). The spot is Serralunga d'Alba, a top a large hill so that you can send signals to your other castles, all clearly visible on the surrounding hilltops. This one was designed as the last defense for the Falletti family, and evidently it served it's purpose as none of the various potential conquerers ever made it into the castle.
The main entrance, from above. The planks pull up and iron bars drop down into the door way. This was behind the first doors which were barricaded with a 6x6 sliding latch.
That is San Francesco on the right. The fresco looked new but was hundreds of years old:
The family seal, etched into the wall:
And here are some pics from Bossolasco, where we explored a church, the views, and the Foosball table in the piazza.
Each house along the Via Roma had a little plaque with a bird, presumably local. This one was the cutest.
The main entrance, from above. The planks pull up and iron bars drop down into the door way. This was behind the first doors which were barricaded with a 6x6 sliding latch.
That is San Francesco on the right. The fresco looked new but was hundreds of years old:
The family seal, etched into the wall:
And here are some pics from Bossolasco, where we explored a church, the views, and the Foosball table in the piazza.
Each house along the Via Roma had a little plaque with a bird, presumably local. This one was the cutest.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Baby you can drive my car
So, driving in Italy...
You're never lost, except when you are. You have heard the saying "All roads lead to Rome" right? Well, actually, here in Italy, all roads lead to everywhere. In a nutshell, there are no straight roads here. Ordinality was not big on the planners of this country (or most that I've seen here in Europe) so basically any given road will twist and wind and eventually intersect with another road, which will in turn twist and wind you to your destination. This is a beautiful thing in the end, but it can be really frustrating because invariably you encounter a set of road signs pointing towards your destination that are miles before you expected to make your turn, or worse, seem to be pointing in the opposite direction from what you were expecting.
A kilometer is a kilometer, except when it isn't. A few examples: Lisa posted a few days back about the emergency food run to Bra. Here is what it looked like: As we approached the the town we saw the billboard: Domenica sempre aberto (a rare thing here in Italy). A little bit further up the hill, we see a sign for the market "2 min" ahead. Cool we think. We get to the top of the hill, pick up a street sign saying the market is "2km" ahead. Okay, whatever. We follow the sign a few kilometers, turn a few times in the opposite direction and hit another "2km" ahead sign. At this point, cursing begins... This happened again on our way to Canela, which was perpetually 6km ahead but this time we were ready for it and got a big laugh.
The road signs are great, except when they aren't. Once you've picked up a trail to your destination, it tends to be really easy to arrive. But fairly consistently, the signs to your destination simply disappear. The one consistent thing you can rely on is that when you need to make a move, the road sign will be there. But more often than not, the signs simply disappear. There seems to be an assumption that you will know that the "main road" simply continues. This turns out to be a really bad assumption, particularly at night...
What's behind you doesn't matter, except when it does. There was a movie made in the 70's called Cannonball! which amongst it's many racist stereotypes threw in a ditty about Italian driving: The Ferrari driver's first move is to break off his rear view mirror and toss it out of the car exclaiming, "whatsa behand ju donta matta" (like I said, really bad stereotypes...). Anyway, the only real flaw in this theory is that what is behind you, usually, is another car. And it is about two meters from your rear bumper. This is especially true when the car you are driving has a huge banner across the rear window announcing that you are in fact a tourist: EUROPCAR.
Everyone drives really fast, except when they don't. There are two speeds in Italy: >100Km/hr or 30. It matters not what the posted speed limit is. The >100km/hr crowd consists largely of BMWs (in France it was invariably a Mercedes Benz). This can only be expected. The parade of cars passing us on the left has been impressive; lot's of Fiat's and Alfa's and a few Ferrari's, including a beautiful 70's era Dino. More amusing are the folks going 30. Typically you will have two people in this car. What you see is two people, virtually facing each other in the front seat (evidently what's ahead of you does not matter either!) and a four, wildly gesticulating hands (turns out this one is not a stereotype, but simple reality).
The speed limit doesn't matter, except when it does. And the ONLY time it does in when the radar supported cameras are on. Yes, they actually do that here in Italy. They do warn you though. We first encountered this in France but could not decipher it, but in Italy where, because of the aforementioned driving corollary, they must slam on their brakes to avoid getting trapped we were able to see the photo enforcement boxes.
Driving here requires faith... and a good navigator (one of Lisa's many strengths!).
You're never lost, except when you are. You have heard the saying "All roads lead to Rome" right? Well, actually, here in Italy, all roads lead to everywhere. In a nutshell, there are no straight roads here. Ordinality was not big on the planners of this country (or most that I've seen here in Europe) so basically any given road will twist and wind and eventually intersect with another road, which will in turn twist and wind you to your destination. This is a beautiful thing in the end, but it can be really frustrating because invariably you encounter a set of road signs pointing towards your destination that are miles before you expected to make your turn, or worse, seem to be pointing in the opposite direction from what you were expecting.
A kilometer is a kilometer, except when it isn't. A few examples: Lisa posted a few days back about the emergency food run to Bra. Here is what it looked like: As we approached the the town we saw the billboard: Domenica sempre aberto (a rare thing here in Italy). A little bit further up the hill, we see a sign for the market "2 min" ahead. Cool we think. We get to the top of the hill, pick up a street sign saying the market is "2km" ahead. Okay, whatever. We follow the sign a few kilometers, turn a few times in the opposite direction and hit another "2km" ahead sign. At this point, cursing begins... This happened again on our way to Canela, which was perpetually 6km ahead but this time we were ready for it and got a big laugh.
The road signs are great, except when they aren't. Once you've picked up a trail to your destination, it tends to be really easy to arrive. But fairly consistently, the signs to your destination simply disappear. The one consistent thing you can rely on is that when you need to make a move, the road sign will be there. But more often than not, the signs simply disappear. There seems to be an assumption that you will know that the "main road" simply continues. This turns out to be a really bad assumption, particularly at night...
What's behind you doesn't matter, except when it does. There was a movie made in the 70's called Cannonball! which amongst it's many racist stereotypes threw in a ditty about Italian driving: The Ferrari driver's first move is to break off his rear view mirror and toss it out of the car exclaiming, "whatsa behand ju donta matta" (like I said, really bad stereotypes...). Anyway, the only real flaw in this theory is that what is behind you, usually, is another car. And it is about two meters from your rear bumper. This is especially true when the car you are driving has a huge banner across the rear window announcing that you are in fact a tourist: EUROPCAR.
Everyone drives really fast, except when they don't. There are two speeds in Italy: >100Km/hr or 30. It matters not what the posted speed limit is. The >100km/hr crowd consists largely of BMWs (in France it was invariably a Mercedes Benz). This can only be expected. The parade of cars passing us on the left has been impressive; lot's of Fiat's and Alfa's and a few Ferrari's, including a beautiful 70's era Dino. More amusing are the folks going 30. Typically you will have two people in this car. What you see is two people, virtually facing each other in the front seat (evidently what's ahead of you does not matter either!) and a four, wildly gesticulating hands (turns out this one is not a stereotype, but simple reality).
The speed limit doesn't matter, except when it does. And the ONLY time it does in when the radar supported cameras are on. Yes, they actually do that here in Italy. They do warn you though. We first encountered this in France but could not decipher it, but in Italy where, because of the aforementioned driving corollary, they must slam on their brakes to avoid getting trapped we were able to see the photo enforcement boxes.
Driving here requires faith... and a good navigator (one of Lisa's many strengths!).
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Day Eighteen: Barolo
Today the seven of us drove through the rolling hills of grapes to the village of Barolo, home of the famous wine. We visited the Corkscrew Museum and walked through town, stopping for coffee and cake at a family run caffé. The town itself is lovely with cobble-stoned, windy streets, but much more beautiful are the vineyards themselves. Audrey took some amazing pictures.
Everyone has a dog, this one was barking at us from the roof!
Here are some of the pictures Audrey took:
Everyone has a dog, this one was barking at us from the roof!
Here are some of the pictures Audrey took:
The Bonvicino Sporting Scene
Little known fact: an extremely popular sport, known only to the inhabitants, temporary or otherwise, of Villa San Lorenzo, is commonly known as Urn Ball. It is played primarily by adolescents or adults stuck in their adolescence. To prepare for this sport, one must have consumed a moderate quantity of wine. This wine must have been produced in the Langhe region of Piemonte. From the distance of the dinner table, each competitor wads his or her napkin into a ball and attempts, with the finesse known only to urn ballers, to launch the napkin wad into the urn adjacent to the dining table. It can often take many rounds for victory to occur.
When it does, well, all I can say is that there is nothing quite like the victory of the champion Urn Baller.
When it does, well, all I can say is that there is nothing quite like the victory of the champion Urn Baller.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)