Day Twenty: The Last

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!

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!

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:

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.

The Sounds of Villa San Lorenzo

Each night while falling asleep, we hear the gentle sounds of the wind mixed with animal and bird sounds in the distance. Every hour three churches ring their bells, but they are slightly staggered in timing. It is a charming sound to which I could easily become accustomed. At noon, since the bells chime twelve times, the bells overlap at three different pitches, creating a dissonant and strangely peaceful song. At 5:45 each morning the approximately ten million varieties of birds begin their morning chorus. It wakes me up each time then puts me right back to sleep.

Day Seventeen: Spa Day

Today Carole and I went up the road to Senterio di Vita, a small spa at the end of a dirt road. The property has sweeping views of the Langhe and the Alps further in the distance. Marissa does massage and her partner Fulvia does nails. The spa is an old converted house with a lovely pool, jacuzzi, relaxation room, and massages upstairs. Carole spent two hours there in the morning having a French manicure, chatting, drinking espresso, being offered an aperitif, local cheese, and a bouquet of lavender. While she was there, a local family showed up to spend the day swimming and hanging out. I went up at 2:00 for a Shiatsu massage which is a lot like a Thai massage in the States. Marissa is terrific. Actually, they are both the embodiment of grace and hospitality. After my massage I lingered had espresso and then a little later after delightful, if challenging lingually, conversation, a little Spumante to toast the birthday of the women of the family there swimming. I could have happily hung out for hours, but the American self-consciousness in me kicked in and I felt compelled to take my leave.






This is their cuuuuuute puppy Priscilla, named after the film, "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert."



That night we went to Canale, a small town north of Alba where my dad treated us to dinner at All'Enoteca where we enjoyed an amazing, four hour meal of local foods. We arrived back to the villa close to 1 a.m. satisfied and exhausted!

Slow Food: Wild Cherries

Brad, being the professional gleaner that he is, immediately discovered that there are many fruit trees in the woods surrounding the villa including two huge wild cherry trees. The fruit are small and taste a little like Queen Annes. All the cherries at arm's length were gone, but oh, the tops of the trees! What to do, what to do...



If you are Brad Gallien, what you do is you find some boards laying around, lean them into the tree, the tree that is on a hillside and therefore hanging over a ten foot drop, and you climb up after the fruit.




One wasp sting later, victory!



The spoils:



The next step, pitting enough cherries for a tart:



Dessert is ready!



Ciliege Selvatiche:

Day Fifteen: Sundays in Italy

We slept in today and hung out at the pool, thinking that we'd go buy groceries in the afternoon. Oops. Italy shuts down on Sunday afternoons. Brad and I decided to venture out and find something open, even maybe a 7-11 equivalent. Surely people have emergency grocery needs on Sundays here! We drove all the way to Bra, home of Carlo Petrini and Slow Food and found the only open place, a Wal-Mart equivalent called Big Store. Oh, the irony.

Here are some photos of the Villa, San Lorenzo di Bonvicino:

The Street Where You Live

Day Fourteen: Driving to Italy

We sadly said good-bye to St. Remy de Provence, our lovely villa, and its charming proprietors, Mme. Mauron and M. Dietrich. It was truly hard to leave it behind. Here are some final photos of Provence:






The drive to Italy was gorgeous and long! We stopped for lunch in Antibes near Cannes where I took a special photo for Susan. Right before entering Italy, we stopped at a gas station/rest stop. Here are the views:

Looking in one direction:



And the other:



Yes, that is Monaco. Get some gas, a water, maybe some Nutella and cookies for the kids. Tra-la.

Here is a view from the window in Italy:



Much of the drive was along the rocky coast, through at least 30 tunnels. Most of the rugged hillsides are terraced and growing olives and flowers. We then cut up into the mountains and headed into Piemonte. We had some trouble finding our little town of Bonvicino which doesn't even appear on a map. We called the agent who after an animated conversation in Italian with what sounded like a dozen highly opinionated people, she told us what to do: turn by the sign by the church in Dogliani and follow the signs to Bonvicino. A problem: there are at least five churches in Dogliani. Argh. Finally, at 9 p.m., exhausted and starving, we arrived. What an amazing place. I will take pictures today. We dragged in our bags then drove back down the mountain to Dogliani where we had pizza at a little family run place where a table outside just happened to be set for seven people.

Friday Night in Avignon

Friday night, our last in Provence, we drove into Avignon to have dinner at Hiely-Luculus, Alice Waters' favorite restaurant in Avignon according to her biography. Our meal was delicious, seasonal, and huge. The boys were especially impressed with the "chariot of cheese," some 15-20 varieties from which to choose three. Alex declared "this is impossible. Impossible!" We walked it off, taking in the Palais des Papes, which looks just like Cinderella's castle and Pont d'Avignon, made famous in the children's song.

Day Thirteen: A Wine Miracle

No, we didn't figure out how to turn water into wine, which would have saved us a pretty penny let me tell you, but we did have a small miracle. Brad and I have always loved the wines from the Chateauneuf du Pape region and were very excited to visit the town and taste the wines. We made it up there through twisty and gorgeous vineyard roads. The town is filled with small tasting rooms. After trying one, we were sitting at a cafe lamenting the fact that our favorite, and one of the most renowned, Vieux Telegraph, didn't seem to be represented in the town. Our understanding was that most wineries didn't receive visitors in the wineries themselves, but we had seen Vieux Telegraph on our way in. Anyway, we were feeling aimless so Carole suggested we move to a restaurant across the street that had a sweeping view of the valley. They were closed, but the proprietor invited us in to look around. Brad started chatting with him and mentioned our affection for Vieux Telegraph. He said, "Oh, do you want to visit? I'll call for you." He did and moments later we were on our way for a private tasting of our favorite Chateauneuf du Pape wine. Anything you have heard about French people being rude (even in Paris) has not at all been our experience. People have been amazingly nice and thoughtful.






The boys are contemplating the miracle:

Day Twelve: Provence in Ruins

First of all: the luggage has arrived. My dad managed to communicate directions to the taxi driver in French (go Dad) and the bag was delivered. So yay.

Meanwhile, we visited two sites of ancient ruins, the first of which was Glanum, right down the street from our villa. This is the site of a Gaul settlement from around 700 B.C. that was taken over by the Greeks around the time of Christ, then finally by the Romans around the year 100. This is a fascinating place to visit. Even more so since it was discovered and excavated in 1921. Before that people were just looking at an olive orchard. Check it out now:




The Hellenic influence was significant here. They believed their spring held special powers and worshiped Hercules, among other gods, as a healer:





The Romans worshiped the Imperial family. Here is what is left of their shrine (the sky makes it look like Zeus is about to go ballistic):




The detail on these ruins was amazing:






Here is proof for Marlena that her husband can, in fact, smile for a picture:



Later that day we visited a small town called Lamanon where we hiked up to the Grottes des Cales where people lived in caves about 7000 years ago.