Italy | The Travel Lady In Her Shoes

On To Florence!

Ok, my blog is going to start with a Pop Quiz.

I have not written to you in two weeks because:

a) I had such a good time in Italy, it has taken me two weeks to get back into the grove.

b) I know it is summer and you are all doing fun things, besides reading my blog, so I gave you a few weeks to catch up on all the doings.

c) I decided to clean out my garage to make room for a new Italian sports car.

d) All the above

So now that we have the Pop Quiz done lets move on to Florence! I love Florence! It still is my favorite city in Italy, but sad to say I only spent one night in this beautiful city this time because I had more on my plate.

Even the Signs are Romantic!

Roof Top View of Florence

Roof Top Duomo, Florence, Italy

First of all, we need to discuss the madness at the train stations these days. When I arrived and left Montepulciano I used the firm of Private Driver Services with Emanuele. Emanuele was prompt, curteous, and drove a spotless Mercedes station wagon. On my last day in Montepulciano he picked me up in Montepulciano, drove the 30-minute ride to Chiusi, carried by bags into the station, down the stairs, up the stairs and told me to wait at the proper train line. What a guy! This was nothing like the treatment I had in Rome. In Rome a train attendant (I thought) came to me, picked up my bag and walked me to the proper train line for my departure and then said, “That will be 15 Euro.” I was a little taken back, I thought he was a kind train attendant helping me. (Like in Prague in an earlier posting) I gave him a twenty and asked for change and he looked me in the eye and said, “No,” and walked off. Well, that taught me a lesson.

When the train arrived in Chiusi, a man, who was also boarding the train picked up my bags and hoisted them onto the train. I had stewed over this because even though I had mailed home boxes of goodies and my books, I wasn’t sure I could heft the bags on the train in the few minutes allowed to heft. As it turned out this man, his wife and friends were also my booth mates on the train. They were from Australia and we had the best time talking and we all hit it off immediatley. We talked all the way to Florence and discovered we would all be heading to Cinque Terre in a few days and I hoped we would meet up there again.

As we approached Firenze Rifredi Train Station, it was raining Gucchi cats and dogs and there was no shelter where the train stopped so it was every man for himself in the pouring rain. I lumbered along with my two stacked bags and when I reached the station a young man hoisted my bags and took off down the stairs, up the stairs and around the bend of the train station with me struggling to keep up with him. When I got there he said, “Thirty euros.” What????? Well, I looked him in the eye and said, “No.” He looked so surprised. I gave him 5 euro.

I went to the Taxi Stand and to no surprise there were no taxis available. So I waited. Then I crossed the street and waited at that taxi stand. Still no taxis. I thought it odd there would be no taxis available, but then it was pouring so I thought everyone was wanting a taxi and there would be a wait. As I waited, I watched. When a taxi did pull up my friend, the exorbitant bag carrier, would hail the taxi, talk to the driver and then place hand picked travelers into the taxi. Every taxi that pulled in had the same routine. The taxi did not stop at the taxi stand just looked for the bag carrier and took his travelers. Hmmmm….. Then an anxious looking visiting priest came up to me and asked if I had called for the taxi. What? He said I had to call for a taxi to come to this station and the bag handler had offered to do it for him for 50 euro. What???? How much had I given him?

I was sure I would never get a taxi now. So the priest, who had called for a taxi and I along with three more priests stood and watched as every cab that came was hailed to the “Bag Handler” as I now referred to him. I was nervous about being left alone at this station so asked the priest if I could ride with them if we ever got a cab. We stood for over an hour and watched this procession with the priest going up to each taxi and stating that he indeed had called for a taxi, but the taxi driver looked nervous and only followed the orders of the “Bag Handler.” My phone had no signal here at all. So I looked the Father in the eyes and said, “Father, we are going to have to be ruthless, they have a scam going on here, so follow my lead.” When the next station wagon taxi pulled in I ran to it and flung open the door and threw in my smallest bag. All the priests followed suit. The “Bag Handler” came to the taxi and I gave him a piece of my mind, something on the order of treating priests like this and so on. I was furious. The taxi driver got out and opened the hatchback allowing the priests to load our bags all the while the “Bag Handler” read the taxi driver the riot act. We had all squeezed into the taxi when another taxi pulled up. Our taxi driver looked so relieved, but told us we had to get out and take the other taxi since he was not supposed to be taking travelers. So one priest went to confirm this with the woman taxi driver, who was very helpful and said yes she had been called to pick us up. We then transferred all our luggage to her big Mercedes station wagon and after one last dirty look at the “Bag Handler” we were off. I told her we were going to different locations, and she said no problem. We proceeded to City Center Florence chatting in Italian and English while she waved at all the other female taxi drivers and I tried to cool down. She said Firenze Rifredi Train Station was not the main terminal so most of the taxis would be waiting at Florence Maria Novella Station, the station the priests had failed to get off at. They will never make that mistake again! I had no excuse my train was destined for Firenze Rifredi. As we passed Maria Novella we saw a long line of taxis there, the real taxis. We were told most taxis wanted the easy pick up fees of Maria Novella while the out-lying stations were manned by the “Bag Handler,” with him receiving a cut along with his mob of drivers. Over three hours later I arrived at Antica Torre Di Via Tornbuoni Hotel, where my husband was frantically waiting for me, since I was late and had not answered his telephone calls. I paid for the cab for myself and the priests and waved goodbye to them. I needed a drink! On to the Rooftop terrace of Antica Torrei Di Via Tornbuoni!

Rooftop View of Florence from the Hotel

For a great car service while visiting Montepulciano I suggest: Tuscany Transfer Service (Emanuele) http://www.tuscanytransfer.it

Il Sasso A Day at School

Acquacheta, an Awesome Eating Experience!

Day One
I had to take a test. After finishing one third of a page on page one, I was whisked away for the oral section of the placement testing. I could hardly speak. I was placed in the Beginners Class which was fine by me. I was in that class for ten minutes when I was whisked off to the second floor and placed in a class with four men and one other woman. My first thought was “I have been demoted to lower than the beginners class, ” but as it turned out there were so many beginners we were separated into two classes. I could hardly call my classmates beginners. Two of the men knew a great deal of Italian, but wanted to be more comfortable speaking it at random, in different settings, off the cuff. A great deal more complicated then practicing from a book. We would get plenty of practice doing that. We had two teachers a day, each for two hour periods. Day one we learned the alphabet and how to pronounce it. Who knew that an A is not an A. A would be Ahhh. I would be EEEE. It was a wonder I could say anything in Italian. R was erra. S was esse. We would have worksheets to do, all the while the teacher speaking and teaching in Italian. If you did not understand something the teacher would look at you and say, do you understand? The reply and phrase I knew very well the entire time of my studies was Non lo so. I don’t know. She then would try to show by writing pictures on the chalkboard or explain it over and over until you got it. The teachers had the patience of saints and a very good sense of humor. One morning after studying the mercato and all the fruits and vegetables we could buy there, the afternoon teacher came in and in groups of two, the students went to the front of the class to do a skit. One student was the buyer and one student was the vendor and we bought and sold practicing our hellos and how much do I owe you and everything in between. It was fun, practical and nerve-wracking all at the same time. This was our routine everyday. With compiti almost every night. Homework, not a lot. Just enough to remind you to think about what you learned or would be learning the next day. So the classes consisted of work from a workbook, working with a great deal of extra printed material and speaking either in small groups or in front of the class. And of course answering the questions the teacher asked you, in Italian. It was challenging, fun, practical and I met several new friends from all over the world and in different levels of education. Many business and governments send their employees to Il Sasso to learn or perfect their Italian skills. The second week all but two students had finished their course and Andy and I moved up to Elementary 1 Level and joined other students. New teachers, new students and new material to learn. We learned a great deal, there was no loitering and we moved along at a fast pace. After the morning classes, there were options of private tutoring or field trips. Cooking classes, tours of the historic towns, and walks in the countryside were just some of the many choices to make your stay memorable. In the evenings the students would meet up at the local restaurants, trattorias, osterias, enotecas and bars, so we became good friends and learned from each other. The third week I had my third set of teachers. I liked having the rotation. The teachers were fantastic, humorous and very caring. They wanted you to succeed and have a good time. It was an experience I will remember for the rest of my life and keep me studying Italian. To all my Italian classmates and teachers, ciao, ciao!!!

On the next to last evening the class went to Acquacheta to dine. A small osteria, family owned that specializes in steak served family style. Steak cut to serve.

The Owner at Acquacheta Preparing the Meat

The Owner Showing the Steak for Approval

The Steak Closeup

If you would like more information about Il Sasso, Scuola di Italiano contact:

http://www.ilsasso.com

Via di Gracciano nel Corso 2

1-53045 Montepulciano, Italy

Facebook: Il Sasso- Italian Language School

If you would like more information about Osteria “Acquacheta”

http://www.acquacheta.eu

Via del Teatro, 22, Montepulciano, Italy

Montepulciano, the First Day

The Pottery Shop

The Handmade Leather Shoe Shop

My Walk to School

Cats Are Everywhere!

On Walk to School

On My Walk to School

The Town Bus only Stops at the Bottom and the Top

My Favorite House on Hill# 2 #64

Not My Walk To School!!!!

Montepulciano is a hill town in Tuscany in three layers. There are three hills to walk up. The first hill is for the tourists, the second hill and plateau is filled with fine craftsmen making pottery, jewelry, mosaics, leather products and woodcarving items all by hand as their ancestors have done for hundreds of years. Dotted between these shops are the clothing shops, great restaurants, wine shops and small grocery stores. The buildings are huge and people live above the shops. At the end of the second hill is Santa Maria dei Servi Church, one of thirteen Catholic churches in Montepulciano. This is where Politian Palazzo is, on the former grounds of the monastery/church. The crown hill is for the Cathedral, the Fort Museum, the Town Hall, the Duomo Hotel and the Torture Museum. Il Sasso, the Italian Language school, is located between the first and second hill. I am so glad I don’t have to walk all the way to the bottom of the hill everyday! My first introduction to the school was an evening wine social on the Sunday before school started. There were forty to fifty students who gathered to have a drink and hors d’oeuvres. Our hostess was an energetic woman who spoke fast and furious Italian. Well it sounded like that to me. The students drifted out to the terrace and I got up the nerve to ask a fellow student if she spoke English. I think I was in such shock with everyone speaking Italian I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. What had I gotten myself into? I loved it. I came home so excited to start school the next day!

The Front Door of Il Sasso, Italian Language School

My Favorite House on Hill #3

Even Cats Go to Mass Here

Appetizers

Pear Salad

Torte

Chocolate Dessert

Montepulciano

The Entrance to the Politian Palazzo

My apartment right above the Torture Museum Sign!

My Apartment from the Outside

The View from my Apartment

The Casa Right Below my Window, Part of the Fortress Wall

Arrived!!! Montepulciano is just as I remembered it, only now I am staying at the highest and oldest part of town between the XII century Fortress and the monastery of Santa Maria dei Servi, in the Politian Apartment. The houses in this part of Via del Poliziano were built in the first half of 1800 on previous settlements belonging to the monastery. This particular property was bought in 1889 by William Stuart, a British Royal Army Captain and his wife Anna Camp, who left Edinburgh in 1850 and came to live in Tuscany. They renovated several small houses on the monastery property into a palazzo for the family and servants, including a beautiful garden. The great grandchildren of William Stuart still live in the palazzo and have divided the main building into four large apartments, preserving the original features of the building and adding modern comforts with up to date plumbing and electrical work. The result is an extraordinary villa that makes you feel like you are living in a palace with a big shower and a fantastic kitchen, difficult things to find in the countryside of Italy.

My Bedroom Ceiling

My Bedroom Fireplace

The Sala and Kitchen

The Sala Opening to the Guardino

Looking Out the Sala

La Campagna di Montepulciano

My Giardino

The Guardino Outside My Door

For the decor Giacomo and Maria (sister/brother hosts) have restored the furniture, paintings, cabinets and armoires taken out of storage. I asked Giacomo about the furnishings and paintings one day and he told me all the furnishings presently in the house were deemed “too good, we must save them,” by his mother and had been in storage for many many years. When she passed, Giacomo decided the furnishings had stayed in storage long enough and they would be used. They even found his Great Great Grandmother’s trousseaux, tapestries, bedsteads and hand embroidered linens that had never been used. The tapestries and bedspreads were produced on a hand loom in Prato and some in the convents of Siena and Pienza. All are made of silk, linen, cotton or hemp. The embroideries were sown by “woman of the family,” mothers, aunts and grandmothers for the bride. Every Saturday when Maria and Jane (Jane is Romanian and that is what she is called in English, I can’t begin to pronounce it in Romanian) clean and I do mean clean, Maria asks me to pick my sheets for the week from a selection of great great grandmother’s antique linens that are pure white, pressed and starched. Unbelievable!!!!

Santa Lucia, Her Eyes are in the Cloth

The Master Bedroom

The Valley Below Montepulciano

Nearly all the paintings depict rural landscapes of Tuscany or seasides of Scotland. Except, my favorite painting in the large, large bedroom, that of Santa Lucia, painted in the late sixteenth century by Sienese artist, Domenico Beccafumi. The ceramic vases in the villa came from local workshops (that continue to make fine pottery) and the garden restoration included re-using all the old bricks and tiles made in the late 1800’ s. All the tiles on the floor in my apartment are original. They are a rusty red in color, some are squared and some are brick shaped. Giacomo said the garden bricks are the same bricks as the house floor bricks, just with a glaze and fine polishing added for house-use bricks. The ceilings are fourteen feet tall and the windows are five feet tall, narrowed and shuttered. To open the window there is a long rod/bolt affair from the top of the window to the bottom of the window. There are no screens and no bugs. The window casings are marble. There are working fireplaces in every room! I am sending a picture of the ceiling in my bedroom and will continue more tomorrow. Ciao!

If you are interested in the Politian Apartments, your home away from home contact:

http://www.politian.com

Via del Poliziano 34

Montepulciano Siena, Tuscany

Tel. +39 0578 716624

Late Night in Roma

Via Della Concilazione

St Peter’s

The Wall Around St Peters Square

The front and main entrance to the church at Santa Brigida faces the square of the Piazza Farnese. Looking out from Santa Brigida to the right on the piazza is the Farnese Palazzo, now the French Embassy. There is a guard house for the armed soldiers, who carry angry looking machine guns. A utility vehicle painted in camouflage looks well equipped with anything needed in a crisis. Armed guards constantly patrol the grounds of the embassy. Two armed soldiers are posted at the vehicle at all times. The piazza is small and quiet with no markets set up during the day and no hawkers shooting off the plastic rockets that glow like firecrackers when propelled into the night sky. During the day tourists sit on the long marble bench in front of the embassy to rest.

Our room at the convent faced the small cobbled side street and as we looked out our tall narrow window of the room we could see the embassy to the left and a small bar in the next block to the right. We could hear people walking and talking in the street below despite the fact we were up four floors from the ground level of the street. Sound travels. The serenading began at 1am. A group of boys, either drunk or just happy sat on the steps of the building across from the convent and sang loudly and with gusto until 3 AM. Evidently the guards at the embassy like singing and are trained to stay at their posts and keep a look out, never interfering unless there is a disturbance in the piazza or a run on the building. They are not diverted to singing groups on the side street. The side street is off limits. It’s a good thing we got sleep on the flight over.

The next morning broke clear, sunny and very warm. We went to the breakfast room and were greeted by a nun who was serving two priests an early breakfast. We had the choice of frutta, yoghurt, cereali, salami, fromaggio, caffe e spramuta d’ rancia. (I am practicing my Italian) We decided to walk early in the day, while it was cooler, to the Vatican and I am so glad we did. Staying at the convent is so convenient, despite the outdoor noises, because you can walk to all the main attractions. We walked to the Tiber River and crossing a different bridge than yesterday passed Castel Sant’ Angelo and walked on to St Peter’s Square, which is really round. At this early hour there were few tourists so we could get some good pictures without heads or bodies in the way. The shops and cafes along Via Della Conciliazione were open at this hour too. The street cleaners were out with witches brooms sweeping away the last bits of dirt on the sidewalks. The street cleaning machines started up right after the serenading died down. Hey, maybe the singers ARE the street cleaning machine operators! The Italians clean the streets early every morning with the same gusto as the singers! Cleaning starts in around 4AM. We walked on to the square and were greeted by hawkers who could get us in the Vatican, no line. I don’t think so. I know there is always a long line. There is a great deal of construction going on near the Vatican now so there are many detours to get around the square and up to the museum. When we finally arrived at the museum that entrance was closed off so we retraced our steps back to St Peters Square. When we got there, there were hundreds of people winding in a line to get into the Vatican. We passed around the wrought iron fence designating we were now in Vatican City, a country all it’s own. We stopped to look at the wares of a man selling Vatican novelties. He told us he was the only merchant allowed to sell inside Vatican City, on church and state property. His family had sold here from 1945 and the license was passed down through the generations. He was very nice and telling the truth. We circled St Peters and never saw another vender inside the fencing. We went back to him and bought rosaries and tiny, tiny bottles of holy water. He gave us St Francis medals to wear. He told us business would not be good today since the crowd was expected to be over 200,000 for the dedications of the Confraternity. There were a bazillion metal chairs set in the square and that is where the lines were winding as they waited to get into the Vatican. We hi-tailed out of there before the crowds became worse and stopped at more shops along the way. I was looking for a Nativity scene. I have a large set with many shepherds, cows and donkeys and of course the Holy Family. I wanted a little itsy bitsy one and found it. Made of hand carved wood it is Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus about one inch tall, all in one tiny piece. Perfetto! We also bought post cards and posted them in the Vatican City post office. We then found the stop for the red open air double decker buses, thanks to two Italian girls who overheard us talking and gave us directions. We decided to take a tour of the city. It was beginning to get HOT so we bought gelato and boarded the bus, climbing to the top. It is a good way to rest and get a suntan at the same time. After the bus tour we walked back to the Convent passing large groups of people dressed in colorful robes and carrying large banners while praying and walking to the Vatican. These were the Confraternities. They were being honored with a mass with the Holy Papa. Time for a nap to rest up for the evening passegiatta!

The Colosseum

From the Tour Bus in Roma

Rome at Night

A Bridge Over the Tiber River

Rome at night Is unbelievable! We headed out to Campo di Fiori (Field of Flowers), just a hop, skip and jump from Piazza Farnese, that was used in times past as a market and hostel area for pilgrims making their way to see the Holy Papa. Today it is filled with stalls of goods, hawkers and outdoor restaurants. There are people everywhere since this time of evening is known for the passeggiata, when everyone, young and old takes a walk. It is still warm out and the glow of faint street lights on the cobblestones and marble buildings is breathtaking and magical. Around every corner is another small lane with an enoteca or outdoor restaurant. We choose an establishment with red checkered clothed tables and I order wine, which is cheaper here than bottled water. We soon discover our neighboring table mates are Russian Jews who left Russia thirty years ago and went first to Austria, then Italy while waiting on paperwork to get them into the US. Our government took care of all their bills and living facilities while they waited. They love Italy and come back often. It was interesting to talk to them especially so close to the Boston bombings and since they too sought asylum in the US. They came with two thousand dollars (all the government of Russia would let them leave with) and left a beautiful large home, careers and their families behind. He owned a mining company in Russia. They had their choice of going to Israel or the US. After arrival in the US he drove a cab in New York for twenty years. She left Russia with twenty pairs of long yellow plastic gloves prepared to clean toilets if she had too. She never had to. She became a nail technician instead. They have two sons, who both graduated from college. They now are retired and split their time between Manhattan and Miami where they own homes. She said they could not totally leave Manhattan because they love the pizza too much! They looked very well to do, spoke very good English and we had fun chatting with them.

After dinner we decided to do Rick Steve’s Heart of Rome Walk which took us through the major piazzas, winding cobblestone streets and then to the really fancy shopping areas of Gucchi and Pucci, ending at the Spanish Steps. Most shops here open at 10AM, close at 2PM for a couple of hours and then reopen and stay open until 10PM. Except for the restaurants that open early or late deciding if they do breakfast or not, then close around 2PM and reopen for dinner and are still open late into the night. We rested on the Spanish Steps and then retraced our footsteps and also meandered on some different small streets back to the Convent of Santa Brigida. The Convent is locked at night but there is no curfew. Inside, at the desk, was our key to the room on a big wooden orange spinning top that designated our room. The key fob looks like a Pinocchio toy. When you leave the Convent the nuns take the key to your room so you don’t lose it. We settled in briefly around midnight before all the excitement began. Next…… Late night in Rome

The Cobblestone Streets of the Historic Center of Rome

The Stalls in Campo di Fiori

Food Stalls at Campo di Fiori

Trevi Fountain at Night

The Streets of Rome

Streets of Rome

The Spanish Steps

Rome Is Magical at Night

Rome

Our Room at Santa Brigida

Day one. Off to Rome. My daughter surprised me with an early Mother’s Day present and updated my ticket to first class! I WAS IN HEAVEN!!!!!!! Everything is so much nicer in first class. I could select meals from a menu with several choices and eat delicious food with real forks and spoons. I ate steak. To sleep I just pushed the button for the seat to maneuver into whatever position was comfortable for me. I slept great! In no time we were landing in Rome.
We took a cab from the airport to St Brigida Convent in the heart of historic Rome. The cabbie didn’t fail my expectations by stopping or even slowing down at stop signs. The signs are only suggestions in Italy. Sister Gertrude met us at the huge oak doors and let us into the convent/hotel located in the Farnese Piazza next door to the Palazzo Farnese, which is now the French Embassy. In the meeting room we were greeted by an older nun who could not have been over four foot eight and spoke only Italian. Sister Gertrude is the only fluent English speaking nun here at the convent. Most of the nuns are Indian or Italian. Showing us to our room on the third floor we managed to get our luggage and three people in the elevator meant for one. I was so thankful for that elevator though! Our room was spotless and the size of most Italian hotel rooms. To get there we passed a small television room and chapel. My daughter and I unpacked and quickly headed out to explore Trastevere, an old neighborhood where the locals live just across the Tiber River. The streets are narrow and the crowds are not here so it is great to explore. We stopped at a small restaurant with outdoor seating called Gabriels and Gabriella’s right next door to the Church of Santa Maria. With the bells tolling we dined on fresh pasta and homemade foccaccia with rosemary served in a paper bag. As it was getting hot we went back to the Convent to rest before going out into the piazza at night.

The Main Entrance Santa Brigida

Flowers in Trastevere

Trastevere

Santa Brigida

Off To Roma

Rome

Off to Italy! First stop Rome and Santa Brigida Church and convent where I will be staying while in Rome. Santa Brigida Church is dedicated to Saint Brigida of Sweden and the Swedish National Church (Lutheran) in Rome. The order of St Brigida is found in many countries and their convents serve as a rest, retreat and educational facility for people of different faiths. Birgitta Birgirsdotter was born in 1303 in Vadstena, Sweden into a well-to-do family and married Ulf Gudmarrson, a knight, at the age of 14. They had eight children and one of the girls Karin, also became a saint, Saint Catherina of Sweden. Ulf died following a pilgrimage taken by both Brigida and Ulf to Santiago di Compostela in Spain. Following Ulf’s death Brigida joined the Order of St Francis and started a community of both men and women in Vadstena. The idea of men and women serving and working together in the church was unheard of. In 1350 she and her daughter traveled to Rome, a strenuous trip during the plague, to seek permission for an official order of Bridgettine Sisters and stayed in the Palatium Magnum, the grand palace. Here she remained and served the poor until her death nineteen years later while waiting for permission to start the order, which was granted in 1370, after her death. St Brigida is also know for her visions that started as a child. Some believe she was epileptic, though I am skeptical of this idea. To survive in the 1300’ s, have eight living children and live well into middle age, in addition to having epilepsy would be a miracle itself. She wrote down her visions in her book of revelations, especially of the Nativity of Jesus which influenced the scene to be painted as art. In another vision, she was given a prayer later known as the Fifteen “O’s” because in the original Latin verse each prayer started with the letter “O”. This prayer honored the wounds of Christ and were prayed over the course of one year. This prayer was later recited throughout Europe. She also wrote many letters to the Pope, who lived in Avignon, France, encouraging him to bring the Papacy back to Rome. He did. Under Catherina and later her granddaughter, Casa di Santa Brigida in Rome served as a pilgrimage stop in Campo di Fiori (Field of Flowers) for Swedes coming to Rome on pilgrimage and then as a refuge for Swedish Catholics fleeing the Reformation in Sweden. The convent in Rome changed hands among many different orders of nuns over the years, including the Sisters in Santa Maria in Trastevere, then to the Congregation of the Holy Cross, a French congregation that restored the rooms of St Brigida and her daughter St Catherina. Next the convent was given to the Polish branch of the Carmelite Order until 1930 when it was restored to the Brigidine Order and Mother Mary Hasselblad. Mother M. Hasselblad was a Swedish girl who immigrated to the United States for work to help support her family in the early 1900’ s. She converted to Catholicism, became a nun, and was sent to Casa di Santa Brigida and worked relentlessly to restore the Brigidine Order in Rome. Later she returned to Sweden and opened a convent in Vadstena with a group of Brigidine sisters who were now thriving in Rome under her leadership. It was the first Catholic Order to be restored to the Lutheran country in 400 years. Later the order would expand into Mexico and India, where many of the nuns living at Casa di Santa Brigida are from. The relics of St Brigida and St Catherina are here in the church. The rest of St Brigida is buried in Sweden at the convent of Vadstena.

I have never stayed in a convent before or a hotel operated by nuns. This will be a new experience and the location is fantastic. On our previous trip to Rome we stayed in a newly remodeled villa near the US Embassy that had been converted into lovely big rooms with posh furnishings and marble fixtures. It was a bit further out from the major sites and the Vatican. Our room was situated on the top floor with a great view but also up four flights of stairs. Believe me when I say at the end of the day and after walking miles, I did not look forward to the stairs. Santa Brigida has an elevator, a treasure in any hotel in Europe. The rooms will be smaller, and with no TV. Since I don’t go on vacation to watch TV this is perfect for me. The description given by guests is, “the casa is spotless, a safe refuge in the heart of Rome and the nuns very friendly and helpful to everyone.” Located in the Farnese Piazza, near Campo di Fiori, it will be close to restaurants, shopping and the sites. I want to do two things in Rome, besides dwelling in Casa St Brigida. One, is to walk and explore the Trastevere neighborhood. This neighborhood is what most Americans think of when they think of Italy. The walk includes twisting cobblestone streets, local cafes, gift boutiques, and wine, cheese and coffee shops. I’m sure there will be a gelato stop or two. People watching should be ideal. The second item to do is Rick Steves, Heart of Rome Walk. This walk starts in Campo di Fiori and ambles through narrow lanes to the most colorful neighborhoods of fountains, piazzas and shopping, ending at the Spanish Steps. This walk passes by the Pantheon, the Parliament, and the Trevi Fountain but since I have seen these sights before I will be focusing on the walk and the people. I want to get a glimpse of the lifestyle and stroll among the rich and Roman before I move on to Montepulciano and Il Sasso, the Italian Language school.

Next a post from Italy!

La Bella Lingua

Taking the Ferry to Menaggio, Italy

View from the Apartment on Menaggio, Italy

The first time I went to Italy I knew I wanted to speak the language. The Italians were so lively, loud and always in full swing. The language was fast paced and musical. I loved watching the men and women talk, so after I returned home the search was on to learn Italian. I love learning and knew I could do a computer course. I could go at my own pace. I thought about Rosetta Stone. I did a trial course and although I learned many words I was frustrated that I did not know what I was saying, until several lessons in when it would dawn on me what the pictures were trying to teach me. There is no English in the course, just pictures that I could interpret several ways. I also didn’t learn how to put the words together into sentences. The program was just random words to me.

I looked up some folks on Slow Travel to see if they had any suggestions for learning the language. One man suggested Fluenz with Sonia Gil and I was off to the races. Fluenz Italian 1, started right in with Sonia, an American, teaching the basics that made sense to an American speaker. All the words were translated in both languages or you could turn then off altogether. You began day one speaking entire sentences. Fluenz offered tutorials so you knew why you were learning certain structures and how they added to what you had already learned from the previous lesson. There were writing skills, reading skills, listening skills, recorded speech practice and pictures too. At the end of each lesson was an Italian tip of something to read or something of interest in the Italian culture. I loved it and couldn’t wait each day to study. I spoke perfect Italian. In my living room.

Menaggio, Italy

Off to Italy I went with two years of Italian under my belt. My husband would say to me, “Now you get ready to speak to them.” That right there put me in a tailspin. I was at the ferry station buying tickets. I wanted two tickets to Menaggio on the hydrofoil. The woman behind the counter said something I did not understand. It was rapid Italian with an Italian accent to boot. Sonia was so much easier to understand! As I looked completely perplexed she asked in English did I want return tickets also? “Ah, what was the Italian word for that?” I asked her. She told me and I wrote it down. I would need that phrase again and again. As the vacation went on I realized for the most part I could get the jest of what people were saying. Still in my mind I had to take in the Italian words, translate them in English then convert them and speak the words back in Italian. By the time I had thought all that through the Italians were speaking about something else. I did better at the restaurants. I could order and read the menus. The young people waiting on the tables realized I was an American, so halfway through my sentence they would interrupt me and speak in English. Was I too slow or were they being helpful and wanted to let me know they spoke English? I think it was both. They wanted to practice English as much as I wanted to practice Italian. Finally, I would tell them, ”No, no let me speak Italian. I am practicing.” Only one waiter rolled his eyes, so I felt I was on to something. I learned very quickly to size up the people I thought I could speak to. Trying to talk to busy waiters and the ticket counter personnel with long waiting lines was not the place to practice Italian. The twenty minute bus ride from the mountain down to the harbor in Menaggio was perfect. One bus came all the way to the top twice a day, where we were staying . The bus came by very early in the morning to go down the mountain and there was a return trip up the mountain in the evening. If we were not up and at it for the early bus we had to walk down the mountain to the next little town and catch the bus there. That was a blessing. The Italians in the mountain village got up early and walked along the road. They were older and in no hurry, so I would Buon Giorno them all. It was a start. At first there wasn’t any eye contact and I would just get the nod. Riding the bus was even better. We were the only Americans on it and the elderly women who road the bus were nonne. (grandmothers) . Buon giorno, buon giorno I would say to everyone on that bus. We road that bus for a week before we had the weekend driver who asked us if we had a ticket. “No, we just paid the driver in euros at the end of the ride.” The driver had been so polite he never told us to go find the ticket office and buy a ticket. I think we became the novelty for the ride down to Menaggio. The women and the driver got used to us, we showed up every day, no ticket and all. On one occasion returning to the dock at the end of the day it was raining heavily and we had missed the bus back up the mountain. My husband went into the lake side resort hotel, Hotel D’ Lac, and asked the gentleman behind the counter if he could call a cab. That is another story entirely. (We weren’t even sure there was cab service. We had never seen a cab.) A Mercedes station wagon pulled up and was I in luck. The driver spoke no English! Wow I could really practice speaking with him. We took his card and called him everyday to come get us at the dock. Eventually we didn’t even have to call him, he would be waiting at the dock for us. And all the way up the mountain we talked! Then it dawned on me that the early morning walkers probably didn’t speak English and were just as nervous as I was that we could not communicate. So the next morning I just started a conversation in Italian with everybody on the road and on the morning bus. Just keep on talking and they would come around. By the end of our stay the taxi driver told me how much my Italian had improved. I just beamed!

Boats Docked in Menaggio, Italy

Now I want to say here another great way I practiced speaking Italian. One of the first things we noticed going up the mountain were all the different colored trash bins along the tiny road. One for paper, one for glass, one for trash. They were everywhere. The bus stop, a little down the mountain where we would walk to, covered three things. The stop was at the corner of the mountain, beside a set of three trash bins and the hairpin curve. In order to go up the road further and make the curve you had to go slow, stop your vehicle, inch forward turning your wheels, back up and repeat about 30 times and then you were good to go the rest of the way up to where our apartamento was. This was why the bus only made two trips a day up to our place. So the rock mountain/trash bin area/bus stop was the meeting place for the locals. While you waited for the bus you read the beautiful obituaries, up-coming marriage banns and local festival plans that were plastered on the face of the rock. You could also talk with the women who waited in long lines in their small cars bringing trash to the bins. It was a regular hen peck. There was no trash picked up at the home they had to haul it to the roadside bins. Here they greeted their friends, caught up on the news of the day and spent a great deal of time taking care of business. It was their town hall. I could talk to the bin ladies while waiting for the bus. Awesome! No one was in a hurry and they didn’t speak English. Perfetto!!!

Now I am ready to make another trip to Italy. This year I started my third year of Italian with Fluenz. Right off the bat there was no Sonia. Now there was an Italian woman speaking like a bat out of hell. I knew the words, but was convinced she wasn’t saying them. I had to go over Lesson 1 many times, boy did I cuss and complain. I thought I would never get it!!!! But she sounded just like the Italians speaking. (Fast and just skimming over some of the little words) I plodded on. Eventually my ear was trained to their language. I am slowly not hearing Italian words, translating the words to English and then translating back. I am hearing the spoken Italian. So I decided to jump in the deep end of the pool. I will be attending a language school in Montepulciano, Tuscany. (Il Sasso) for almost a month.

No English. Italian only, complete immersion. It is a small town with locals, who don’t speak English. I have been there on vacation so I know the area. It’s really laid back. The administrator has answered a truck load of questions from me. She suggested lodging, was helpful with train schedules and found Verio Neri from the Cucina Povera cookbook for me. (earlier post about that) The students who have attended the school have raved about it. Bring it on. I am ready.

For more information look up Fluenz Learning Languages, I just think it is THE best! and………..the school
Scuola di Italiano il Sasso, Montepulciano Italy (a Tuscany hill town)
internet: http://www.ilsasso.com or Facebook: Il Sasso Italian Language School

The apartamento near Menaggio, Italy, Apartment Le Eriche, Villa per Barna, Plesio, Italy. It is Italian owned and our neighbors were Italian. They own a B&B also, but we stayed in the private apartment!

Il Negozio di Alimentari (Grocery Store)

Sant Antonio, Montepulciano

I was on the plane from DC to Zurich. At the beginning of the flight the seat next to me was empty for a while, then the stewardess directed a young man to the seat. He proceeded to strip. One layer of shirts after another, six layers in all. He folded everything precisely and placed them in a Disneyland plastic sack. As he sat down he added that he was wearing several layers of pants too. We got to talking. The young man from Switzerland had been in the US on a student exchange and work program. But, he also had been shopping. In Wal-Mart. He told me he had never seen anything like it. So much to choose from, so cheap. When he was not working he was at Wal-Mart shopping. He had bought gifts for all his friends and perfume for his mother.

On the train from Switzerland to Italy a young couple boarded the train struggling with huge suitcases almost bigger than they were. I struck up a conversation with the shy young woman from Indonesia while my husband talked with her husband.
“Have you been to the US,” I asked. Yes, her husband had studied there.
I eventually got around to, “What did you like best about the US?”
“Shopping in Wal-Mart, my husband would drop me off and I would spend the entire day there.” Her eyes lit up as she talked about her shopping experiences.

Shopping in Wal-Mart. I heard it over and over. Visitors to the US loved walking down all the aisles, looking at all the merchandise. The Wal-Mart that had the grocery store included was a special treat for them. Double delight.

Shopping in Montepulciano The grocery is to the right with red letters on the building

I know what they mean. My first grocery shopping experience in Italy was a highlight for me. We arrived at the monastery outside Montepulciano on a Saturday night and at the welcome/introduction were told the grocery shops were closed on Sunday in Italy. After the welcome the guests made a beeline to their cars and the grocery store on the outskirts of Montepulciano. We had to wait a while to get a parking spot. It wasn’t really a parking lot just a pull in. Cars were parked at the front doors of the shop like someone had just dropped someone off so they could run in. Except no one was waiting in the car. Finally we followed other cars to the church lot on the corner and squeezed the car into the piggly wiggly parking spaces. There was no rhyme or reason to the parking. It looked like the cars had just stopped and parked. It didn’t matter if you were blocking cars or if the backend of the car blocked the road. Total chaos. It was exciting! We walked down the hill and into the store that looked on the outside like any grocery store in the US only smaller. There were not many carts and the store was crowded with shoppers. In order to get a cart you put a euro into the box on the cart to release it from the line. The aisles were tiny with just enough room for the cart to pass. As we zipped around the store I tried to figure out what the items were by looking at the pictures on the labels. I found peanut butter next to the Nutella. Was Nutella peanut butter? There was lots of that. We got to the vegetables and fruit. I’ve learned to watch before I leap. The women placed plastic gloves on before touching the fruit or vegetables. I followed suit. There was a counter with meats and cheeses that I just pointed to as I made my selections. The store closed at six, hurry hurry. There was an aisle of t-shirts, shoes, mops and brooms. At the check out the woman gestured, did we have a bag for the groceries? No? Plastic disposable bags were dispensed, with a fee of one euro. A deep breath and out the door we went. What did we buy? It was all such a blur to hurry up and shop.

Uptown Menaggio

Another time arriving in Menaggio, late on Saturday afternoon, we walked up the hill from the boat dock. On the corner was an old building with a grand stone stair entry that faced two sides of the street. It was the local grocery complete with so many sticker advertisements on the windows one could not see in or out. While I stayed at the bottom of the stairs with the luggage my husband hiked up the stairs and into the shop. I waited and waited and waited. Finally he came out with two cans of coke, Pringle looking chips and candy bars. What? “You will not believe that store, it is one way with yellow tape arrows on the floor to direct you through the aisle. I had to go around twice to find this stuff,” my harried husband revealed. I would get my chance to see the grocery later in the week.

On my visit to the store I found items from the floor to the ceiling. How you reached the items on the top of the shelves was beyond me. Everything was jumbled together so I had to go slow and look at it all. There was a vegetable and fruit section with a young woman there to provide you with the plastic gloves. I had to go around the store three times to find my items, each time passing the cashier, leaving my items, and then going out and in again. If there was someone behind me with a cart they had to go at my pace because the aisle wasn’t big enough to pass. The store had everything, I just had to really look for it. Again I paid for my plastic sack. One thing you didn’t have to worry about was parking. There wasn’t any. No one would take out a grocery cart. You had to go up and down many steps to get in or out. There wouldn’t be weekly shopping, too much to lug home at once. Daily shopping, walk to get there, bring your sack. I also did not notice any new cars. The small cars had scrapes, scratches and dents on them. The buildings had swatches of color on their walls that matched the colors of the cars. Nobody got too bent out of shape over parking here. Just stop the car and get out.

Shopping in small towns

In the smaller villages of Italy the grocery shopping is more defined. A different shop for selected items. The wine store, the cheese shop, the butcher, the baker. I didn’t find a candlestick maker. These shops tend to be very small and full! Everyone knows everyone. I had a great time. Enjoy the pictures of the shops in Italy!

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Travel, Gardens, Food, Photography, Books, Shoes

Posts tagged ‘Italy’

On To Florence!

Il Sasso A Day at School

Montepulciano, the First Day

Montepulciano

Late Night in Roma

Rome at Night

Rome

Off To Roma

La Bella Lingua

Il Negozio di Alimentari (Grocery Store)

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