An entry in the TFS Travel Journal.
(typed as the most magical orange moon travels across the window in the blackness)
Our day began at 1:30 am, when we were awakened (like dogs) a few seconds before the bed and floor began to vibrate quite actively. We felt safe in this house, but it was a mighty strange sensation nonetheless. Went back to sleep, as we had to get an early start on our day trip to Florence, Italy.
When we re-awoke around 7, we saw it was still gray and rainy, so we decided to sleep in, explore locally, and do Florence on Wednesday. First order of business was to zoom back to Deruta, where we buzzed in and out of about a dozen more shops, before going back to Grazia (where it all began) to pick up a few items. Then, what do you know, it was time to eat, so we went to Tre Vaselle, a restaurant in the town of Torgiana owned by the Lungorotti Wine family.
Quite the nice place, almost too nice. We started with appetizers of zuchini blossoms with ricotta (by the way, we’ve been enjoying some fresh, and I mean fresh, real ricotta cheese - which has been a quasi-religious experience - with our fruit for breakfast; certainly going to be hard going back to the plastic containers, so we’ll have to look for a neighborhood supplier in NY), “raw ham” (translation from their english menu) with melon, and some sliced chicken with a tuna-fish sauce (really). All were actually pretty good. Primos were penne pomodoro, umbreccini (thick spaghetti which was called piccharelli in a different town) w/black truffle sauce (wonderful!), taglialini w/mushroom sauce, and risotto. Entrees were a beef dish (so good two of us ordered it), an ok veal, and a delicious salmon. Accompanied by a Lungorotti ‘82 Rubesco (pretty good, especially with the foods). The meal was made extra-special by Karen and Adam treating us as an early anniversary present/celebration.
We then toured the nearby Wine Museum, a small but enjoyable collection of wine-related artifacts, paintings, equipment, everything!, from thousands of years ago to the present. To best remember it all, Milton bought a Baccanalian-themed watch. (So now it’s always time for a little vino) We (Wendy, actually) then drove through beautiful wooded mountainous countryside, made all the more scenic by last night’s rain leaving everything eerily clear and sharp across the valleys dotted with regal towns and castles atop the many hills.
We finally arrived at San Marino, Italy, fulfilling Adam’s life-long mystical quest to return to his spiritual homeland. All in all, a rather fascinating place with a fascinating history. It is still an independent country (though we were too late to get our passports stamped), set high on the top of a mountain, and probably about the same size as New York City (but with 9 boroughs, instead of 5 and a population of 23,000). An amusing combination of plentiful tourist shops (a few selling an amazing variety and quantity of paint-ball guns - of all sizes and calibres - which is evidently a big thing in Italy) and some impressive old stone buildings of the government, all with an almost aerial view of the entire valley.
We walked around for a while, then, realizing that it would be about 3 hours to make the return trip to Portaria, (and 2+ to Florence tomorrow morning) we hit on the wild and wacky idea of driving to or near Florence to spend the night, though we had only the clothes on our backs. We got on the Autostrada, and stopped at a rest area to buy provisions. This place had a food selection - prepared and packaged - to rival any gourmet deli in NY! We got one toothbrush per couple (at L5,000!), toothpaste, deodorant, and some fruit and water.
We took the shortest route, according to the map, which ended up being one of the curviest, up and down experiences, all in the blackest darkness. While Milton drove, the other three staved off perpetually impending carsickness by keeping their windows completely open, and sticking their heads out in emulation and memory of their departed dog, the beloved Muffin Marder. When not stifling her nausea (and not in the ever-frustrating “No Service” phone zone), Wendy used the mobile phone to call hotels in Florence to get us rooms for the night. The first 7 or so were completely booked (except one place without bathrooms in the rooms and the Grand, at $400+) but we finally found La Giaconda manned by our new best friend, Tulio.
Practice must count for something, since between Tulio’s directions and Karen’s cartographical wizardry, we arrived at our target with minimal effort (other than that required just to drive in this crazy city). Though we had feared staying in any hotel that would actually have vacancies, this was adequate, though about as fancy as a Motel 6. As we had no luggage or toiletries, it seemed appropriate.