I was recently featured in the local newspaper…in a story about my travels to Italy. My son Jesse was visiting from Tokyo and the photographer from the paper took this photo of us:

As for the article, if you’d like to read it, click here:

http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2009/may/11/la-dolce-vita-therapist-makes-life-changing-visit-/ 

Enjoy!

Eating gelato on the beach in Grottammare, Italy

It’s been an awkward adjustment to come home, while my thoughts are still focused on the people and places I visited in Italy. I’m already thinking ahead to next year, hoping I can figure out a way to stay longer. One way or another, I’ll make it happen.

Sono molto grata…I’m very grateful to the many people who made my journey so rich and memorable, especially Haruko, Domenico and his family, Luigi, Roberto and Michela, Paola, Monica and her family, Paolo, Giovanna, Miwa, Valerie, Bryan, and Melinda. And also to Peter, who provided transport to and from the airport, and Laura, who kept watch over my house while I was gone.

I’ve posted photos of my travels here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/mb.bethel 

For those of you new to my blog, this was my fourth trip to Italy in the past two years. I’ve visited more than 25 Italian cities and villages, learned the language and have made numerous friends. I travel cheap, going by train and bus, with a focus on culture immersion rather than the usual tourist route. I’m rarely identified as an American, so I must be doing something right. Though my lodging is inexpensive, I always manage to find comfortable, sometimes even quasi-luxurious accommodations. If you’d enjoy reading about my previous travels in Italy and Japan, you can click on the links provided under “categories” on the navigation bar to the left, or: 

For Italy, you can find the full story on each trip by going to May 2006, January 2007 and October 2007.

For Japan, there are posts from March through July, 2008.

(FYI: If you are using Explorer as your browser, you might have troubles seeing all the posts, though I’m not sure why…they show up fine on Firefox.)

Stammi bene e fatti viva!  (Take care and keep in touch!)

In the afternoon, Haruko and I met up and went to visit a profumeria (perfumery) near the church Santa Maria Novella. We tried many of the scents, which have been made in the same way, from flowers and herbs, for centuries, but I couldn’t bring myself to fork over 70-80 euros for a small bottle of the heavenly scents. Maybe next time…

We walked around town and eventually ended up near the Santa Croce church. While Haruko made a stop at an internet point, I scouted around for a trattoria where we might have lunch. I found one that offered a good bargain: primi e secondi piatti, l’acqua e vino, (first and second course, water and wine) for only 10 euros. Once we entered the restaurant, we both realized it was the same restaurant where we had our final meal together two years ago. Only the décor had changed, and later we learned that the trattoria had changed hands this past August. It’s named after Dante, the famous Florentine poet…a name I’m not likely to forget. (I’ve followed Dante’s trail in and around Florence, and then to other cities where he traveled after he was exiled from the city….including San Gimignano, Lucca and Ravenna, where he died.)

In addition, the food was even better than last time. For my first course, I had zuppa di fagioli, a typical Tuscan soup with beans, and Haruko ordered gnocchi, a small dumpling-like pasta. For il secondo, she ate Trippa Fiorentina…a tripe dish that was quite delicious, and I had an exquisite beef dish, Peposa dell’Impruneta. When we left, we told the waiter we had been there two years earlier, and he kissed our hands and wished us a speedier return to his restaurant.

After another visit to a favorite gelateria, we wandered around to our favorite haunts, along the fiume Arno, to view the Ponte Vecchio in the moonlight, Piazza della Repubblica, Piazza della Signoria and the Duomo one last time. Haruko suggested I just not go home…that I could forget about getting to the plane and just stay in Italy. If only! But at least we both feel certain we’ll meet again, and certainly in Italy. Perhaps it will be sooner than either of us thinks possible….

Haruko at the gelateria

I easily made my flight to Amsterdam, and endured the transition from the warm, playful chaos of Italy to the efficient, cool reserve of Amsterdam. The contrast worsened when I arrived in Memphis and was bombarded with smells of barbecue and the sloppy attire of my fellow Americans. Already, I missed the sensual, vivacious approach to life that comes naturally in Italy. Life is certainly more voluptuous in Italy, and I feel certain it’s where I belong, if only to learn more about la dolce vita…the sweet life..

It’s taken me a few days to readjust to life in America…it’s cooler and wetter here, and my body rhythms still seem to be on Italian time. I’m wading through the 1000 photos that I made while in Italy, and will post a few of them on this blog throughout the many entries about my journey. Stay tuned for more adventures!

Melinda’s blog: http://www.melindagallo.com/blog/

While on the train, Haruko and I had exchanged text messages, and had made plans to meet that evening, In the meantime, I spent a few hours shopping at the outdoor market in San Lorenzo, not far from my hotel. I managed to negotiate with the vendors so that I got some good bargains. Since it was Friday afternoon, the beginning of what promised to be a beautiful weekend, I expected to see crowds of tourists swarming into town. At my hotel, the rooms were all taken by Americans, and it was an abrupt change to hear English being spoken more than Italian.

Haruko and I met about 5pm and walked across town to the flat where she’s staying, the same area of town where we first met two years ago, when we were rooming with an Italian woman while attending an immersion school to learn Italian. At Haruko’s flat, we spent a few hours talking, then she prepared a simple but delicious cena (dinner). After several more hours of visiting, I took the bus back to my hotel late that night.

Saturday morning I decided to try and find Arcetri, where Galileo lived. I had heard there are beautiful views from the hills there, and I wanted to check it out. After having such easy access to the Parco Ducale in Parma, I was missing the presence of trees, not as easy to come by in a city like Florence. I walked up into the hills along a quiet, nearly empty road for several hours, but the view was obscured by walls on both sides of the road. I finally made it to Arcetri, got a glimpse of the view, and found Galileo’s house on the way back to Florence. After nearly four hours of walking, I decided to treat myself to gelato at Vivoli’s Gelateria, supposedly the best in Florence because they only serve freshly made gelato. It was good, but costly, and I’m not sure it was that much better than the cheaper places in town I’ve been to.

Saturday evening I was invited to Paola’s house for dinner, but when I arrived, I learned that plans had changed, and instead we were going to a party at one of her friend’s houses. We were picked up by a couple who drove us across town to the party, which turned out to be a feast of food and wines from Puglia, in southern Italy. The husband of the couple who were throwing the party had cooked many of his favorite dishes from Puglia, including meatballs, cavallo (horse), polpo (octopus), pizza with potatoes, lasagna, and many others. With each dish, he also served a different wine, as he is also a wine expert. Naturally, I had to try a bit of everything, and ended up getting stuffed to the gills…uncomfortably so. And after all that, there were desserts and dessert wines to taste as well. After all the food I’ve been eating the past few weeks, I can tell that I’ll need to spend more time dieting once I get home. (addendum: Good news! Instead of gaining, I actually lost several pounds while traveling. Seems like the Italian lifestyle is a good one for me in MANY ways.)

I felt immediately welcome and comfortable in the group of some twenty Italians at the “mega cena”, including four or five people who could speak English quite well. In the background of the constant conversations going on at the party, there was a video of music and dance from Puglia, which added a nice touch to the evening. This was my first exposure to the food and culture of southern Italy, and I’m thankful to have been included in the festivities.

My box seat was on the fourth of five levels of boxes (palchi) that curve around the stage. There were three chairs placed near the edge of the box, and two benches behind them. A group of three people were already sitting in the chairs when I arrived, but were instructed to move, since I had paid for one of those chairs. (I got the cane chair, while the others enjoyed the plush velvet chairs that matched the benches: the privilege of arriving early.) The benches were comfortable, but it was impossible to see the stage if one sat there….instead, the third person of that group stood behind us during the performance.

At the first intermission, I was asked where I was from, and once I admitted I was an American, the others were more friendly, even venturing to speak a few words of English. I learned they were from another region of Italy and had traveled to many of the best opera houses in Italy. During the course of the evening, one of the men often sang along with the performers, obviously quite familiar with the lyrics. I was intrigued by the passion of the audience, so eagerly intent during every moment of the performance, and their shouts of “bravi” and “bis” (encore) at the end of each act.

I really enjoyed the performance, which was masterfully done by all the performers and the orchestra. Next time I’d like to go to an outdoor performance, like they have in Verona or Rome, where the seats are more reasonably priced. Haruko has been to the Verona arena several times and has raved to me about it. But I’m glad to have had the chance to attend a first rate opera in a first rate opera house.

After the performance, I met up with Paolo and his family, who had also attended, and we were taken backstage, a privilege due to Paolo’s standing in the community. Then we went out for a quick pizza, and it was nearly midnight when we got back to the Palace.

On my last morning in Parma, I walked around the centro storico (historic center) and hung out in the Parco Ducale one last time. The park was a comfort, an inspiration and a solace to me during my stay.