Day 163

Today is the last day. Last night I was exhausted but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about leaving. Yesterday someone said I didn't look Chilean...that I looked Italian. I loved it. And I have to be somewhat OK at speaking the language because a lot less people look at me weird when I say something to them, they just keep talking, which is a good sign right? Plus I've gotten through half of my book that's in Italian...although maybe the fact that it's about the Mafia gives me away when people see what I'm reading. But I understand it.

I feel as though Rome has seeped into my skin, little by little. Like when I say Rome, I still think it's half way across the world, far away. But then after a few seconds I can feel that it has slowly changed for me. I've gotten to know it, I've discovered more of Rome's secrets.

Italians aren't breakfast people. They can go without eating in the mornings, but not without their coffee. Their tiny little espressos. In Rome you can basically park however you want as long as it fits and as long as you can get out later. Whether other people can or can't doesn't matter. Also, you know you're in all the way in the space when your car hits the other car- not before. Another thing, that I'm not too fond about actually is that restaurants charge you to sit down. Then they charge you for the bread they bring to the table without asking. I'd rather leave a tip.

There are 15 obelisks in Rome, more than 900 bridges, thousands of statues and 39 monumental fountains in Rome, all fed by an amazing (and old) aqueduct system. The water is always running in the streets here. Hot water is a different story. You have to make sure enough is heated before taking showers...although that hasn't been necessary for a while because it is SO HOT during the summer. Which doesn't help the stink of public transportation. Plus the bugs, who have been eating me alive by the way. Even Italians try and escape the heat in the summer...everything closes in August for at least a few weeks. It seems like that would almost be impossible to do in our society today, but as far functioning in this heat, they've got the right idea-you can't.

Let's see...The sirens never go away. In Positano the ambulance sounds were replaced by the buses honking their horns when on the curves of the cliffs, to let the cars coming in the other direction know they're there. But here in Rome it's always the ambulances. I don't even mind it really...it's become my soundtrack.

One of my favorites are the window shades. Integrated into all the buildings are these shades you can roll down. I'm sure they're for security, as well as privacy...but they double as blackout curtains. I've slept in a little later than usual a few times thanks to those.

And Italians. Italians are wonderful, happy, passionate people, who love to live. They love good food. Pasta and pizza are not just for show. They eat pasta almost always at least once a day and pizza once a week- The Italian Diet. They love being with people, and seeing beautiful things; il dolce far niente. They are passionate, but they are private too. They like their space. They like to do things in their own way. They're not aggressive, but when they get mad or frustrated, they are not afraid to show it. I was at the pizzeria in Napoli and this poor Chinese girl really got it from one of the waiters there because she didn't understand the number system and he didn't know how to explain it. In came the famous Italian hand gestures.

So, I feel like Rome is more mine than before. I can tell people about it in a different way than a tourist could. I have lived here for the past 163 days. I have seen so much, and met so many absolutely amazing people...and lived, and learned. I have learned to do things for myself, to be a little selfish sometimes. To stand up for myself. I've learned to not care what people think and that I am much more disciplined than I thought. Setting goals is wonderful, but you have to be brave to actually do something about them.

I've learned how to cook and how to speak Italian. Those are the best ones.

I just hope I have given something back to this beautiful city. I am so grateful and fortunate to have been able to do all of this. I want to remember what it was like here and to take this energy with me to get through next semester. I admit I can't help but feel it slipping away a little. But you gotta do what you gotta do.

Last night Valerio, Maria, Flavia and I went out to dinner. I rode the motorcycle on the way there and back...and drove past the Colosseum to see it for the last time, lit up like that. It made my stomach do a loop. You think it will always be there?

I said goodbye to Maria. I'll see her when she comes to Chile. I repacked a few times while I listened to the free music outside my window from the summer concerts at Basilica San Paolo across the river. It was a little cooler last night too. A perfect summer night.

Now my room is empty. I don't know if they're going to let my ridiculously heavy bags on the plane. I'm making Valerio come into the airport with me just in case. I am worrying about the little things, but really I can't imagine what it will be like once I'm sitting in my seat in the sky. It doesn't necessarily feel like it's over though, or that it will be.

I will be back. There are still things I haven't done.

Day 162- Falling From Cloud Nine

I am soon to be hit with so much reality I cannot bare thinking about it for more than a second. At a time. Because it seems like I can't stop thinking about it either.  It is absolutely insane how quickly time has passed. I am only days away of going back to Chile and as I had imagined, I'm not sure I'm ready. You would think after going through a lot of changes in life you might get used to change. Just a little? I don't mind it. Change is good. When you want it. I don't think I want it just yet.

I am missing a lot of people and slowly I am wanting things from Chile...like my bed. But goodbye's really get to me. Like I said before...I'm all about people. So I guess I've been trying to gradually get used to the idea. I've been going around town to get some things and in the process saying goodbye to the neighborhood. To the girl at the market, and to the old man that sells me mozzarella and parmigiano. Going for the last few runs on my track...

I got back from the Amalfi Coast with Carlos a few days ago and we enjoyed a few more things in Rome before he had to leave on Thursday night. But first...

We loved the Amalfi Coast. We took the unforgiving hot and stuffy train from Termini to Napoli, where we met a sketchy Chilean hippy, who spoke a funny combination of Chilean Spanish and Italian. Once we were there we found our way around the station and found the train we had to take to Sorrento. This time just as hot, but at least we had seats. In Sorrento we took a look at the map of the city, and since it looked tiny, we decided to walk around a little, luggage and all. I think it's one of the smallest towns I've been to, but very popular for cruises to stop at, so pretty lively. We went down some stairs on the side of a cliff and saw the Port of Sorrento, which was just as touristy chic as the town, then took en elevator back up the cliff to catch our 5:00 bus to Positano. Short and sweet visit of Sorrento.

Although I slept a little on the way to Positano, I caught the first few kilometers of the trip. Not your usual bus ride. Similar to Cinque Terre in Liguria, the Amalfi Coast has a bunch of little towns along it, but instead of a train, there are narrow windy roads along the side of the cliffs. So to get from one of them to another, you have a beautiful and at times frightening view of the sea and everything below. Not for those with vertigo. And even though most of the towns are pretty close together, it takes a while to get there because of the curves and of course because whenever two buses meet, there an intricate procedure of everyone backing up and organizing themselves so that one bus can get through. We both enjoyed it though.

By the time we got to Positano it was too late for the beach, so we left our stuff at the hostel (which being on the somewhat isolated coast of Italy, surprised us with rooms that only opened with your fingerprint), and went to look around a little. Soon, by looking around we understood that meant walking down...and then back up...the steps of Positano. We had been warned by the hostel website that to get to the beach it was more than 750 steps. "People who are not in the condition should know that to arrive to the beach, there are 700 steps to go down and up". Aparently we were barely in the condition. But we walked a few flights down, finding mysterious little nooks along the way, covered with flowers and decorated with beautiful Italian ceramic tiles. It was a little like a dream. The balconies were to die for. I wouldn't mind having one.

We found a place to have dinner and enjoyed everything at a much lower temperature than Rome...even more than Sicily. At one point I could have even put on a sweater. It was nice.

Back at the hostel, we sat outside for a while and met a few Argentinian girls. So we got to talking, and then after a while went to our room to sleep in our bunk beds. I was on top. God that sounds wrong. In spirit of leaving this laid back country, I won't rewrite it. :)

The next morning we went to Amalfi and spent most of the day at the beach. At lunch some guy who looked like he played Paolo in Friends (the Italian stereotype that goes out with Rachel) basically tried kicking us out for ordering a sandwich to share...but I was quickly recomposed by the wonderful Amalfi lemon sorbet...sooo fresh.

I did a little shopping (God bless Carlos' patience), we fit in another dip in the water, then hopped on the bus for Positano. There we decided to make our way down all the steps to the private beach to have an idea of where to go the next day. And we were quickly convinced when we saw how nice the beach was. We kept walking and made our way along the coast to the bigger, public beach, found the bus stop among little shops and buzzing tourists, and were back at the hostel. By then we were hungry so we ordered pizza to go at the same restaurant we had eaten at the night before (when the pizza dough served as bread is that good, you go back to try the pizza, right?). Hot pizzas in hand, we climbed the stairs from the restaurant to our hostel as quick as our (or my) physical state would allow us...and ate on the hostel balcony with an unreal view.

The next day was an all day BEACH day. we got some snacks and descended The Stairs again to the beach, where we stayed until they closed. We had lunch almost on the water, refilled our glasses of white wine numerous times, and tanned. And it's a good thing we were on the beach because it was insanely hot out. We were in and out of the water every five minutes. Once the sun subsided behind the hill, we walked to town to catch the bus, but ended up walking the rest of the way back. It took us a while, but I definitely don't think it was half as bad as going up all those stairs would have been. I don't know how the people that live there do it.

On our way back to Rome, I couldn't let Carlos leave without trying the best pizza in the world. So we walked a few blocks from the Napoli Centrale Station to the one and only Antica Pizzeria da Michele. There was of course a crowd around the place, so we got our number. And after about 45 minutes, I watched him savor each piece, dumbfounded by how perfect it was. I really thought it might be a little less good the second time, because most things are..........but oh my god. It's just so good...I don't understand.

After another few humid hours on the train, we were in Rome, packing. Which I'm still doing. Extra luggage is just the beginning. I think I'm going to have to do some rearranging...

To round up these wonderful months, yesterday we went out to celebrate Valerio's birthday. Very fun place called Roma Vintage, although I have to say there were some oddballs. And today (in between packing), I've been around a little with Mary on the bike...trying to take it all in. How can you just be in one country and then be somewhere else all of a sudden. Just a plane ride and everything is different. Isn't it weird?

It's almost over...

Day 155- Sicilia

It has been days since we've been back from Sicily and Carlos and I still can't stop talking about the food we ate. After all, where else would you get better seafood than on an island?

We were up and ready last Monday, excited for the trip...and after the minor blip of having to throw out all our shampoo and sunscreen at the airport (completely forgot about that rule), and only about 40 minutes in the sky, we arrived on the sunny southern island of Italy: home of perfectly juicy oranges, unbelievably fresh fish, white Grillo wine, Marsala, and of course-the Mafia.

Off the plane, we caught the train from the airport to Palermo, soaking in the views from our cabin.  Already there was something intriguing about the island, and we couldn't help imagining scenes of The Godfather  coming to life outside our window. From the station, we walked a few blocks to our hostel, where we barely made it to our room up the steep marble stairs, dropped off our things, and were off for our first Sicilian meal. Since it was a little late in the afternoon for an Italian lunch (normally between 1-2:30), a lot of places seemed closed for the afternoon...but we finally saw a little restaurant with a few tables still set up, basically right in the middle of a busy sidewalk. The old man running the place, also our waiter (old people here are my favorite),offered us the last of what was in stock, and I quickly decided on the swordfish. Simply garnished with cilantro, lemon and olive oil, and perfectly cooked, our lunch seemed to be a good first taste of Sicilian cuisine, and start to our stay.

After lunch, the bustling Monday streets quickly became overwhelming without a map, so our first task was to find one. Once we came to a tourist point, and after a particularly helpful man gave us a map of Palermo, we began our tour of the city. At first the streets in town almost seem a little ugly, pretty hard around the edges...a little run down, not one building matching the next. But after a while, after cooling down with a lemon granita (with actual lemon in it) and going inside the Cathedral, catching the end of a double twin wedding (a little weird) and standing in front of Teatro Massimo; looking at the details and watching the loud Sicilian people, it grows on you and the story behind it all shines through. The mixed architecture from the different rulers over Sicily are definitely clear...in one building you can see the Arabic or Norwegian influence, then around a corner and you could easily be in Paris. We were definitely non-stop that day and by the late afternoon we were definitely feeling it. When we reached the port, we barely had the energy to look for somewhere to eat, but when we saw a few places with signs for fresh fish right in front of the coast in the distance, we had to try one out. So we picked one, and we picked right. We both went for pasta dishes, mine the classic Spaghetti con Vongole (spaghetti with white clamsauce), and Carlos a more adventurous Fettuccine with shrimp and pistachio sauce. They were both amazing. During dinner we also discovered the very refreshing and crisp Grillo wine, and never stopped ordering it from then on.

The next day our plan was to go to Mondello, the nearby beach, so we got our stuff together, including our "we are tourists" white towels from the hostel, and caught the bus our trusty guide had told us to take. Once we were there, the strong sun reminded us our sunscreen was in the airport garbage, so we were forced to buy a professional 20 euro sunscreen in the only place selling the stuff. But at least we didn't get burnt. The beach was a small little strip, with a diverse crowd, the best of which were the tanned, Speedo-wearing 40-50-year old men, that seemed to all belong to the same gym a long time ago. From the waist down it was all toned muscle and then suddenly, robust bellies, which seemed to hold all the beer and pizza from the last 10 years. It was very amusing to watch them chatting while watching their kids or grandchildren, but almost impossible to understand anything they were saying in the strong Sicilian accent, so beyond my Italian skills.

After a while we were hungry so we had lunch, more great seafood...and then indulged in typical desserts, a Sicilian connolo, and what can best be described as a literal ice cream sandwich. But I don't mean the ice cream sandwich with chocolate cookie on the outside and vanilla ice cream, I mean an ice cream sandwich. Ice cream inside bread. You would think it's a little too much, but even the chic and lean Italian woman were lining up, leaving with the dripping three-scoop sandwiches in hand. So Carlos had to go for it.

We went back to the beach for some more sun and time in the warm sea, listening to the food vendors- "Ciambelle!" "Cocco...Cocco Bello!" While swimming I tried so hard to memorize what everything looked like standing in that water...

The next day, before leaving Palermo we decided to see the last few things on the map, a great market along a few small little streets in town, one of the most representative churches of the city-San Cataldo, and got distracted by the one and only H&M. I was very impressed by our speed shopping because by 1 we were headed back to get our things and went to the train station to go to Trapani.

Ballaro Market

"Don't forget Palermo"

A few hours later, the train pulled up into the station and we got off to what looked like a ghost town. There were barely any people and everything seemed closed...I wasn't sure if it was just because it was lunch time (Everything closes from 2-4 except for places to get food), but it seemed like no one was even out eating. But, niente da fare, nothing we could do...we found our hostel (after walking past it a few times we finally noticed a tiny business card stuck next to the doorbell) and after more stairs, arrived at a little apartment at the top of the building, with a few rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom...and air conditioning. The lady waiting for us explained the deal with breakfast, which we could get at the cafe on the corner of the street, and we left to look around. We got a map, and quickly found that what we thought might be disappointing, was a beautiful port city.  We stopped at the things marked on the tourist map...a park, some fountains, many "palaces" scattered along the little streets...and had dinner on the main street, Vittorio Emanuele. Our waiter, who spoke 6 different languages, recommended I order homemade busiate pasta with grouper eggs, which I did, with no regrets. And more Grillo wine. So so so good.

Thursday, we decided to go to Erice and the nearby Egadi Islands. To get to Erice you can either go by bus or take the funivia, or cableway, up the mountain. We chose the latter, so we took the bus to the cableway and arrived in aerial Erice in about 20 minutes. No matter how small, the town is definitely worth a visit...the narrow streets, weaving up and down, with flowers popping out of corners, and the cliff-side castles are very romantic. It's made me try to imagine what it was like living there years ago, when you could probably only get there by donkey or something. Like an unreachable fort floating in the clouds...

After a while, since we wanted to catch the hydrofoil to the first island, Levanzo, we left and headed back to the porto. It turned out the half hour boat trip brought us to a little paradise we were definitely not expecting. We got of the boat and looked around what was almost a mini Santorini. Blue and white houses, perfectly turquoise water...a little jewel plopped in the middle of the Mediterranean sea. We quickly found somewhere to have lunch (at the only place open on the island at 3), and headed to the little cove where we saw people swimming. For a while we had the whole "beach" to ourselves. Really, what can I say?

Later, we gathered our stuff and went to the port to catch the boat to another island as planned...buttt we got stuck behind a guy that had some issue with his ticket and got in a fight with the girl at the counter. By the time they stopped fighting, the hydrofoil was leaving, he quickly hopped on and left us on the island, with no ticket. So, we bought one for the next boat, and went to find another beach. Past a corner, there was a path to another little cove, even smaller than the last, where what seemed to be only locals lay tanning into the late afternoon.I'm looking for the right adjectives to describe what it was like being there, but it seems impossible to avoid being cliche...so here's a picture.

I guess that's the difference between resorts and a small beach tucked away on an island. Resorts seem so ordinary. But we were in this tiny little unknown part of a tiny Island in Italy. I wonder what would have happened if I just stayed on Levanzo forever. I wonder if anyone would find me.

Even though it was later in the afternoon, the sun was still strong, so I just lay in the water for a while.  For a minute I put my head underwater, and with all the sound blocked out except for the sea...it was actually like thinking about nothing....which if you've ever tried is quite difficult.

Until of course I looked up and saw a hydrofoil coming in the distance. We hadn't look at our watches for a while...but I was sure that couldn't be our boat, the last boat, back to Trapani. But of course it was. So that meant we had at most 8 minutes to catch it. I still can't believe we made it. Still in the water, we realized it was in fact our boat, jumped out, wrapped towels around us, grabbed our things and sprinted back to the port. We were the last ones and as we barely got on, the guy checking our ticket looked at us strangely and told us we would have to put clothes on once we were on-board. "Si si, certo!" Of course! Haha...It was crazy.

We both slept on the way back to Trapani, then showered and headed out for our last dinner in Sicily. The next morning, we wanted to fit in San Vito de lo Capo, a beach an hour away that we heard was one of the best beaches in Italy. We couldn't pass it up. So we caught the 8:30 bus, spent a few hours in the sand (great beach, but crowded), and went back to Trapani for our things before going to Palermo Airport.

More than a lot of places Sicily has been one where it still surprises me that I was actually there. The existence of Sicily has always seemed so distant...whenever I've seen or heard of it, I always tried imagining it and thought I'd maybe go in the future, but never so soon.  It was beautiful.  It's definitely worthy of much more time than I spent there...for wine tours, and visiting ancient ruins, and exploring the little towns further in, like Corleone where the roots of the Mafia are from... But go. You can't go wrong with the seafood, for that, Trapani is not to be overlooked. It's romantic, and you might be able to actually escape the heat of summer a little.

Not like here in Rome. Not like this suffocating, completely abnormal city heat. Since we got back we have been non-stop, all around Rome...I have been revisiting some of my favorites and have finally done the "big ones"- I went into the colosseum which surpassed my expectations after everyone said it wasn't worth going in (of course it's worth going in)....I toured the Roman Forum, went to the vatican museums, saw the Sisteen Chapel, had a picnic in Villa Borghese. I know it would be impossible to see everything, but my list has finally gotten shorter, and the amount of wonderful things I've seen seems like a pretty respectable number. And I'll be back to do the rest some time.

Today Amalfi. We stop in Naples to get the train to Sorrento, and then to Positano, Amalfi. My last trip in Italy...

Day 140- Not Alone

Since Tuscany, we celebrated one of Maria and Valerio's friend's birthday and went to a barbecue at his house. For me, that would mean a lot of red meat, but here it's more chicken, pork, and grilled Italian sausage, which is my favorite. Also you can't go without the cold pasta and rice dishes, with mixed vegetables and of course-mozzarella. So we had a good time, but headed home after a while because we had been driving a lot that day and were basically done with the whole being awake thing.

Last week, I went to the lake again and had one of their Italian sausage panini...which are going to send me on a search for Italian sausage in Chile...because it's amazing. They flatten out the sausage on a grill and then grill up peppers and onions, with some white wine, then some tomato, a little mustard...on what for me is "Ciabatta" bread...and voilá. Great sandwich. So Valerio and I continued to work on or non-tans, this time without our peppy friend Noe :( ...and then headed back to the Roman oven.

And...besides all that, yesterday I went to the airport to get Carlos. It's so odd that I haven't seen him so long, it feels like yesterday, and even more so once I saw him. It's funny because in some ways it's like nothing has changed...but I know a lot has. It's impossible to not learn about each other and for a relationship not to change after being apart for while. So far, it's all good.

But his arrival also means that my time here alone has for the most part come to an end, besides a few days after he leaves. I have been thinking about it a lot, and I admit, wondering how I would feel about the possible invasion of space, or having to be conscious of someone else's wants and needs. I find myself so happy though, excited to share the things I've seen and now know as a part of my routine. In a way, it is that that allows me to feel like I am actually a part of this...less of a tourist. I can tell him about Rome, and all the wonderful food; I can speak to him in Italian (even if he doesn't understand me yet). My time here has payed off....in every way possible.

Yesterday we already saw a lot of things around center city, and I have already filled him with the works-pizza, spaghetti, cheese, gelato. Wine. Today, round 2.

Now, I have one month left, to enjoy, to live as best I can. Sicily and Amalfi sound amazing and I can't wait to go. We leave on Monday...Ci vediamo!

Day 138- Under the Tuscan Sun

I think Toscany might be my favorite Italian region. The whole things is just magical, the long winding roads through the rolling gold countryside, the tiny red flowers, the open sunflowers reaching towards their god in the sky. The way the little Etruscan stone towns appear around the corners, in the distance, surrounded by green, as if someone just poured the houses onto the hillside. The old people perched on their stools in the shade, passing the time tending to the flowers scattered along the streets. The smell of leather. The food.

Pure deliciousness

We decided to stop in Orvieto on the way to Cortona, for lunch. Since it was on the way, and I had wanted to go there for a while because of Marta's wonderful description of this Pecorino pasta dish she had there, it worked out perfectly. Orvieto is only about 130 km from Rome, but already in Umbria, and is surrounded by cliffs high up in the hills. We arrived at Hosteria del Moro and quickly ordered. Behold: Nidi di Pecorino e Miele.

Duomo di Orvieto

After seeing some of the town, we moved on towards our destination and reached Cortona around 5:30, where we just barely found our hotel "Albergo Ristorante Portole", way past the center of town, in the middle of lush forest and perched in front of the most amazing view. We stepped out to admire everything and quickly noticed the fresh breezy air, delighted that we were no longer stifled by the heat of Rome. It was definitely enough to know we would enjoy our weekend away. 

As it turns out, the hotel was nice and comfortable; we were greeted with a cold glass of Rose, and the man in charge was helpful in getting us situated...however we couldn't deny the eeriness of the place, we were basically the only ones at the hotel, and the hallways looked straight out of The Shining. The whole time we were all waiting for those twins to appear at the end of the hall near our room. But anyway, we survived. No "Here's Johnny's!", no chase in nearby mazes. Just a sweet donkey to protect us named Poldo.

A little later we enjoyed dinner at the hotel with their house wine, Flavia and I actually put on sweaters, and...again, are these views for real?

After eating we decided to explore the center area, and joined Cortona's tiny population for a night on the town. Not much to say about that...after around 11 it was dead, but I'll never complain about walking through cobblestone streets, and it was nice talking with le ragazze (the girls)-total Italian language immersion. 

By the way-my Italian: I am now able to understand almost everything, or at least understand the gist. I can usually say everything I want to, although almost with some sort of mistake, but I'm getting there. I love talking in Italian. I find myself saying very insignificant things just to use the Italian I know. Like "Ho corso" (I just went running.) or "Fa caldo" (It's hot out). Or, "Che hai mangiato?" (What did you eat?) haha. But anyway, I am practicing a lot and even don't speak Spanish to Marta anymore. I just don't want to find myself at a standstill, so I have to keep learning. There are just some things that I can't wrap my head around. Take "CI" for example. Three different meanings. And the similarities with Spanish that were initially helping me, are now confusing me and making me say the wrong thing. In any case, comunque, I have decided to take a class when I get back to Chile, I don't intend on losing this beautiful language that I am sure makes me sexier and cooler, any time soon. 

Back to Tuscany. The next day we went on a Tuscan road trip through some of the towns nearby in the province of Siena. Each was more beautiful than the last, with their own charm. The first stop was Montepulciano, where we intended to have a light lunch. We found a winery/restaurant that offered either meals or wine tastings, so we decided to get the bruschetta mix and a pecorino cheese tasting with a bottle of their red wine. 

Light.

Flavia (left), Maria (right) and I.

After that, we headed towards Pienza, to grab some of their specialty items for home. More pecorino cheese, balsamic reductions with figs and truffle oil, sausages, and homemade "Pici" pasta. After passing by Via del amore (love), Via del Bacio (kiss), all the way to Via del Abandono (abandonment), we came upon this stunning church that was being prepared for a wedding. I have to say, it's tempting to try to do. I still have time. Before the bride arrived, we kept going and arrived in Bagno di Vignoni, which provided for a nice rest next to the ancient thermal baths, even though we couldn't have any real spa time. 

                      

Finally, we kept going towards our last stop, Montalcino (yes different from the first one...I kept thinking it was the same place). As Maria, our official driver, and Flavia, the official navigator argued over which way to go, I was just enjoying the ride, mesmerized by Tuscany. I couldn't get enough.

In Montalcino, which is famous for their Brunello wines, we looked around a bit and of course couldn't leave without buying a few bottles, that is after unexpectedly having the most expensive two sips of wine ever. If you have to pay for a tasting, shouldn't they tell you they'll only be pouring a drop in the glass? The three of us determinedly decided it was outrageous, and went on our way (purchased wine in hand).

Back to Cortona, on the hill...

We drove and drove, up and down...through this town and that, back to Cortona, our vacation spot in the Tuscan trees. That night, it was papardelle with wild boar tomato sauce at The Shining Hotel, and not one, but two bottles of wine for our long conversation. At the end, the wine even became part of the dessert, with almond Cantuccini, (what we know as just biscottis), made especially for dipping in wine. Not your average idea of dessert, but I loved it. 

After a little more exploring in town (and making our own fun on the playground), we headed back to rest. The next morning, we said our goodbye's to Poldo, and saw a few last sights of the city, including the villa described and owned by the writer of Under the Tuscan Sun. 

Under the Tuscan Sun Villa

Santa Maria Nuova

                   

                View from the Girifalco Fortress in Cortona

                        

                          From inside the fortress

Then,our car (and bodies) filled with everything Tuscan, we left Cortona, stopped at Lago Trasimeno...were unimpressed, found a place for lunch at what I think was the only place open on a Sunday afternoon in the entire region, and made the long drive back to Rome...suffocating just a little in the car, under the Tuscan sun.