Sunning in Sirolo

Yesterday, we decided if this place had a cutting board and kitchen towels (and better AC), it would be perfect.

Still working on the AC…in tutti I’ilalia…

Moka is brewing, I am writing, Danita is on her run…a perfect morning at the villa.

When the runner returns, she brings with her some treats from town. While enjoying our breakfast, a man enters our outdoor entry way. I wave, as several had entered mistakenly, but he motions me to come to him. I walk out as he is tries to make me understand something about fiori…he can tell I’m not comprensione and says, “Uno momento”, jogging away. I followed thinking he wants me to identify something. At a distance, through the gate, I see a girl come in with a bouquet of fiori…and it hits me. I exclaim, “OHHH MMYYYY GGOOOSHHHH!!”, a little more excitedly than usual for me. From inside the villa, Danita, concerned, says, “What?!” “You’re getting flowers,” I respond as I watch it all play out.



“How the heck did he manage this!? Communicating with someone here is difficult enough when you are standing right in front of them…but communicating over a phone line thousands of miles away…he’s determined.” -Danita J

Out with the fake old, in with the new…

With this bit of excitement under our wings, we head to town to find la spiaggia.



A local advised us to take the bus to la spiaggia…so we wait.



We purchase due sedie e un ombrello and have a wonderfully relaxing afternoon.





With our Kindles and due Spritz…we were set.

Around 5:00, we started wondering how long the buses would run. If we missed it, the trek would be up, up, up. So we gathered our things including our nuovi asciugamani and head to the fermata dell’autobus…and wait. Experience has proven that even if only a few people are waiting 20 minutes before a bus comes, there could be 80 by the time it arrives. And that is pretty much what happened. But…we’ve learned to shove on.

Not the first time (or the last) we’ve been on an over capacity transportation vehicle this trip.

Our villa is situated right out of the main part of Sirolo, more on the edge of a neighborhood, and edge of a cliff. The walk back removes you from the few tourist here, (we rarely hear people speaking English), but you are close enough to walk right back for aperitivo and dinner. Which we did.

This has been the only disappointment of Sirolo so far…good Spritz in town, poor, poor aperitivo snacks. Roaming around a bit later for dinner was also a let down. We’ve decided the aperitivo we prepared last night was the best in town.

Plans for domani? Different beach, dinner at the villa.

Paradiso in Sirolo


Grab your bags guys because we have another day of treno travel ahead of us. Ma prima, we need a bit of breakfast and to say our arrivedercis to Concerto.


When the taxi arrived, the discussion was already how hot the day was to be. Driving to the stazione, I witnessed how far I had roamed in hopes of finding more mosaics. No wonder I was hot, tired and “cranky”. But “let’s” not forget…I am over that.

At the stazione, we did more rounds of the Stazione Shuffle. These treno bound for Ancona are popular! Time to shove on…See you in Ancona, “Most likely.”



The train ride is about due hours with 10 stops or so along the way. We are once again in the entry way for the first hour and a half or so, then as people uscita, we get seats. Out the windows, we get our first glimpses of the Adriatic. It is lovely…however, I have yet to see any waters that rival the Mediterranean Sea at Cinque Terre.

Arriving in Ancona, we still have another couple of modes of transportation to experience before arriving to our room in Sirolo. Adding to the 1sts of this trip…I have rented a car!! I am very excited, but of course, a bit nervous as well. I figure this is the way to give it a whirl, having a companion to navigate as I drive.

Anyway, the car rental spot next to the stazione is not open on Sunday’s so we need to get to the rental spot at the airport. As we head toward the uscita, I begin….just begin to mention our option of taking a bus…”Nope, not gonna happen.” -Danita J.

We easily grab a taxi, he too talks about the heat and humidity today as he is loading our bags. We hop in and say “areoporto”. We begin to drive…and drive…and drive. I am getting anxious and confused as we are looping back to areas we just came from via treno. I figured there must have been a stop closer to the areoporto than Ancona proper.

Arrive areoporto. Taxi driver let’s us out as I tell him we are only here to get a rent car, then we are off to Sirolo. Kind uomo that he is, he begins to give me directions to Sirolo… What route to take, which to avoid, what to do at each roundabout…I jot these tips down for a little bit, then just give up, writing “yeah right” as he speaks.

Enter areoporto. Small and completely empty…wait, there is one window open at one car rental agency…but it is not Hertz. By the way, I did call the Hertz number earlier letting them know we were experiencing some treno difficulties and we were running a bit late, but that we would be there.

We approach the closed counter, I dig for my paperwork, Danita calls the number. I hear the word “unfortunately” from the other end of the line and my heart sinks. Then I hear him say he will return after 3:00. We wait.


All goes well with the rental. I set aside my dream of driving a Fiat 500 manual shift in Italy and go with an automatic. The way travel can go in Italia…I decide to lower my chances of issues. We get a dark silver VW Golf. Cute enough and drives well.

As my dad advised, we took a couple of roundabouts due volte, but we arrived at the gates of Villa Vetta Marina, nessus problema. I had also called Antonio of the villa earlier, letting him know our arrival time was to be a bit delayed. He said he would meet us at the gate…




I can see Antonio through the gates and excitedly let him know we have arrived. He gives me a Un momento hand as he is giving another guest specifics, then he comes to us.

We pull in with “ease”. As Danita mentioned earlier, “The streets in Italy, were not made for cars.” Antonio gives us the quick, solo Italian tour. When we would ask something in English or my molto limited Italian…we would just get blank stares.

Antonio exits, we unpack and check out this molto Bella place.



Moka and wine glasses are found…we will stay!

I know I cannot adequately describe this villa. It and its surroundings are simply poetic. Everything is so lovely inside and out.

On the way here, I shared with Danita that I have not been here, I have not been to the Adriatic, I found this place and it looks amazing, but I hedged, as I braced myself, that sometimes, (I know…I’m bursting your bubbles here…) sometimes, things don’t turn out like you imagine. This, mio amici, is not one of those times. YAY!!!

Andiamo soul Mercato.

Even having to pay for your grocery cart here in Italy is fun.

Piccolo mercato, but everything we need is ecco.
We grab burrata, pomodori, fflllaaaattt-a bbrreeaaadd-a, olives, another yummy looking formaggio and vino…certo…due bottiglie…we are currently researching Vini branching Della regions Marche…


We head back to our villa, Danita goes for a run while I prepare our aperitivo…ah the happy couple…


I will tell you, Danita’s last words as she tied her running shoes were, “This is a perfect time for a run…it looks like it is going to rain later.” And rain it did.

The first big clap of thunder drew me to the window. More thunder and lightening followed. I considered jumping in the car and going to find mi amica, but I do not know the area, nor have any idea of what route she may have taken. She’s a big girl, so I wait, enjoying the storm as I do.

She returns, soggy but smiling. We sit under the cover of our portico loving every moment and morsel.



Mi displace**Not sure how to “bleep” words on here…**

One of life’s lessons is that with every storm…or at least most…a rainbow can be found.

I told you this place was poetic.

If one rainbow isn’t the one you are looking for…look closer…there may be due.

Andiamo a Ravenna

As I mentioned, Danita’s hotel is just a few meters (look at me using my metric) down from mine, so before our first day of treno travel, we grab a quick bite and cappuccino at her place.

Her concierge (rough morning for him…more on that from Danita) calls our cab and we are scooted to Santa Maria Novella Stazione…a bit early….certo. I know we only need to arrive 30 minutes max before our treno departs but I do not want to rob Danita of the Esperienza Della Stazione.


Dieci minuti before our treno is to partire, it arrives, we board, find our reserved seats…no issues.


I hope you enjoyed that seamless segment of our treno travel…because that is where it ends!
Arrive Bologna.

To be honest, days have passed and I do not even remember all the issues we encountered…but I’ll do my best.

We wait a bit in the Bologna Stazione, feeling pretty confident about this excursion (silly, silly me). I see our train number but the platform numbers to not jive. I’m still calm at this point as I approach one of many Trenitalia uomini who attempt to assist. First one says, no…we should be on binario 10…so we scoot to 10. Those of you who travel by treno are aware of the ups and downs, literally and figuratively, involved in changing your binario. Danita is determined to use the lift each time and I agree…for now.

On binario 10, we begin to wonder…because again…the information in my hand and the information on the board and the information on their little poster thingy and the information we are getting from the workers on the platforms…don’t jive.

Starting to get a bit nervous now…I go to the window to ask. With 4 people in front of me, I am aware this could take 4 days…I could go into a 10 paragraph account of the conversations had while I was in line, the faces and gestures made by the uomini behind the windows, sharing their treno expertise with those in need…but I will stick to the facts.

During all this, there were additional tickets bought…


There were trains we tried to shove ourselves onto but could not. It is one thing when traveling solo…I can and will squeeze on if need be. But when traveling by twos…makes it a bit more difficult. Stay tuned though…it can and WILL be done.

I make it to the front of the line and my exasperated uomo tells me the next direct (and by that I mean we do not have to switch trains…silly you, did you think that meant there were not 10 stops in between?) train to  Ravenna ,on the way to Ancona, is in an hour from binario 7….Andiamo a 7.

We arrive at binario 7, which is between 2 stalled trains. We get “comfy”. Danita starts to read and I…I don’t remember what I did…write, edit, not sure. Anyway, a few minutes later, Danita says, “I don’t know how smart it is for us to be here all alone between two stalled trains where no one can see us.” Great…add that to my worries.

I hear an announcement in Italian for the train we originally wanted, different time…you guessed it, different track. Andiamo binario 3.

This time, I’m taking the stairs. I hustle up as the little blinking light indicating departure is flashing away. I look behind, no Danita. I make it to the top of the stairs, see a full to capacity treno…look behind, no Danita. The door closes in front of me. I push the button, opening it again…welcoming looks, by the way, on all the faces inside, stick my foot in…look behind me, the top of Danita’s head coming up the stairs. We both shove and I mean shove in with our luggage…look at each other and start laughing. Andiamo Ravenna….most likely.

After molto, molto stops and very little relief in capacity, (we ride the whole two hours in the entrance area…notice Danita’s foot at the bottom right of the photo below.   Comfy as can be, on the floor of the train, with her kindle…Doug cringing here!) we arrive in Ravenna.


We take a taxi (no discussion needed) to our B&B.

I tell Danita, “Wait…I need to get a pic.” She replies, “With sweat from the front or back?”
We are greeted by Concerto. Kinda of a younger, flirtier version on Franco (mi amico in Capri). He insists we do not touch our bags, but when he goes to lift Danita’s he makes a groaning noise and asks, “Quanti giorni rimani in Italia?!”


Our first order of business is to wash our hands, crank the air down (remember…we are in Italy…not going to get a whole lot of relief) and go find a place to get a bite to eat. Concerto is concerned because this is not a time where much is open. It is about 2:00 or so. He does recommend a place near San Vitale (the reason we/I am here), so we head there to find our paradise in Ravenna.


Tre Piccoli Porcellini…


As we enjoy this respite, we try not to slip off our chairs from the sweat. Everyone is talking about the high heat…but it’s in celsius…so all we know it is indeed molto caldo.

If you are in Ravenna, we highly suggest you put Casa Spadoni on your list…maybe due or tre times…as we did.

After our wonderful lunch of caprese and bicchiere di vino bianco…oh and let’s not forget the best pane we have had…we head for the mosaics.

The Basilica of San Vitale is one of the most important examples of early Christian Byzantine art and architecture in all of Europe. In Art II, this is where we pick up our Art History lessons.



Ravenna, more specifically the mosaics of San Vitale, has been on my “want to see” list for years. I feel I bring so much more to our class discussions when I have had the experience of standing in front of the art.

The groundbreaking of the building was in 527 and the consecration in 547.
The Apse mosaic depicts (all in tiny, squares of glass mind you) a young Christ atop the world. Christ’s right hand is offering the martyr’s crown to Saint Vitale and on the left, Bishop Ecclesius offers a model of the church to Christ.


An aspect I enjoy speaking about are mosaics of the East Roman Emperor Justinian I and his Empress Theodora. This depiction undoubtedly illustrated that the Emperor is head of both church and state.



The triumphal arch mosaics of Jesus and the Apostles is equally breathtaking.



At this juncture, Danita heads back to Casa Spadoni and I roam and roam with the intent of finding the Basilica of Sant’ Apollinare in Classe and its mosaics but only find Sant’Apollinare Nuovo…kinda. Anyway…I’ve let that go.

Disappointed in myself (but remember…I’ve let that go) and hot, I return to Casa Spadoni where Danita has made herself at home. We have an aperitivo, Spritz for me…Vino for her.





We both decide we need a couple of these maialino bicchiere, and while the waitress, Giada, (yes, we are on a first name basis with the staff) is washing us some, she notices me drawing. From the corner of my eye, I can tell this excites her. She returns with her sketchbook and pen pouch, offering me anything I need.


We share, as best we can, the enjoyment we find in drawing. She, much more talented than I, loved showing me her work, explaining a bit of many of the pieces as she did.


I think it was the highlight of her day someone took the time to listen and see this side of her.

With our aperitivo in us, we return to the B&B, shower and nap.

Neither one of us had much interest in getting up for dinner, but we rallied and returned to…Casa Spadoni.



Our first time, walking back to the B&B, we were not sure which way to head when the road forked. From a window above us, a man called out, “Do you need help-a?”


This time, walking back, we laughed when we realized we were basically standing under the sign of our B&B when we were confused.

Tutti e ‘bene quel che finisce bene…


Last Day in Firenze (for now)

Some of you have communicated with me that you get concerned or disappointed when there is not a post to greet you each morning. I appreciate the (positive) feedback very much. I do want to share with you a few of the struggles I go through…daily with this darn thing.
Let’s take this morning for example….

Danita, like I did myself, pushed through Day 1, not resting until the Italian day was over, trying to adjust her body to our new life. So, at our “Buona Notte” last night, it was decided that she would sleep until she woke up and then we would connect. This would give me time to write a a bit.

What is the saying?…Best Laid Plans?…

I got my photos to transfer over, having edited earlier…began to write, and got about tre parole in and the cursor would stall. I would be typing away, deep in dialogue with myself…thoughts from my head to the keypad, look up and the cursor would be blinking away. Then the screen would go blank with a “friendly reminder” saying there was an ERROR and work had not been saved. I sat…I’ll use the word “patiently” here…for about tre rounds of this, then I told myself if it happened ancora…I would walk away. After at least sei volte di piu, contemplating throwing this thing out the finestra each time, I walked away.

I returned to ditta Artigianale for some caffe.


While I enjoy this place, I look at my list I previously made, checking off what we had accomplished giorno uno.


I notice this establishment offers free wifi and connect completing the Palazzo Life post using solo mio thumbs.
With food and drink at my finger tips, this could become my nuovo ufficio.

A couple sitting next to me in a little side lounge area was enjoying a refreshing looking lemony beverage. I leaned over to inquire if they spoke English…they did.

(CinCin Cierra!)

The couple was from Sweden. They come to Firenze twice a year. They used to fly, now they drive. Driving enables them to bring more wine home. Certo. While I was engaged with them, Danita texted, “I just woke up”…”Going to get dressed. Need coffee.” I asked her if her place was still serving. “No it’s noon”. So she came to me.

After a cappuccino grande, we headed back to Mercato Centrale. Most of the meat venders were closed or closing for the day, but Danita still got to see some of the glory.


As we walked by one of the amazing vendors I had visited in 2015 gathering ingredients for our cooking class, he stuck out his hand with something he wanted us to try. To be polite…we did, walked a few steps away, then I promptly returned to buy some of that crunchy goodness under the salty goodness of the salami.

I ask him, “Come si chiama”, as I pointed at the crunchy goodness. His response as he handed me more…”ffffllllaaaaatttttt-a bbrreadddd-a”. Maybe this is where the term “Wise Guy” originates.


From the Mercato, we roamed to Ospedale Degli Innocenti.

“No problem of the Renaissance era moves the heart more than the abandonment of newborn children. Innocent, helpless, forsaken, and most often female, left by the roadside, in a ditch, or on a doorstep, the prey of animals and I’ll-intentioned individuals eager to sell them to brothers, their plight inspired a desire to see these gettatelli (little throwaways) cared for properly. Although throughout the medieval centuries and on into the Renaissance, many European cities built multipurpose charitable institutions to care for the poor at all stages of their lives, Florence was the first to commission an institution exclusively for the care of orphaned and abandoned children.” – An Art Lover’s Guide to Florence by Judith Testa

As we approached, I was struck by the significance this beautiful place would have for Danita.



The conception of the Ospedale Degli Innocenti was in 1410 and histories of Italian Renaissance architecture mention the facade of the Innocenti as the first important work of early Renaissance architecture. Architect Of the facade?…yep…Brunelleschi. And who funded much of the completion?…yep…the Medicis. Ya gotta love these guys! Palle!Palle!Palle!

The first foundling, a baby girl, was abandoned on February 5, 1445 in a ceramic basin/manger set between statues of Mary and Joseph, intended for that very purpose. This manger was later replaced by a wheel, half of which extended into the loggia. People leaving their babies could place them on the wheel, turning it into the Innocenti and their identity would not be known.

As we walk under the loggia of the Ospedale, we start up a conversation with a couple from Australia. I was telling Danita what I knew about the history, I paused for a moment and the gentleman said, “Go on…” Turns out he is from Italy but has lived in Australia for 53 years. He says, “Longer than you”, meaning my age. I reply, “solo da due anni”. He is thrilled to learn my attempts at his mother tongue. He asks where we are from and after hearing “Texas”, he lights up and says with gusto, “Ahhh…John Wayne…Bang-Bang”…yep….that’s us.

Next we make two returns…the first, to the shoe shop where Danita bought her scarpe yesterday. Turns out they are a bit big.
The next….

After one bite, Danita says, “This could use just a bit of salt.”
Wait, wait…I bought this little tin in 2013 here in Firenze…Perfetto!


Correction- tre restituisce…

Back at La Menagere, we sit, relax and concentrate on cooling off. Cooling off in Italy in the summer takes concentration as there is no to little a/c in any establishments. So we decide to maximize our efforts with ancora Spritz and bicchiere di vino bianco. As I order the Spritz, “Espresso?”, ” No, SPRITZ”, “Ah, Spritz-a”, “Si!”, we brace ourselves for a lesser Spritz. We do not sit at the bar again, opting this time for low slung, soft chairs and a small table, so we feel sure I will get the Spritz in the bicchiere with no garnish. But we laugh when my fancy Spritz arrives.


The waitress stoops down to tell me that next time, if I want Molto garnish and fruit, I can order the Spritz La Menagere for only 2 euro more.  Molto garnish than this…Grazie, sto bene.


We roam our way back Oltrarno via Zarra, walking through Piazza Santa Spirito on the way home. Danita likes the vibe as much as I do. Although side note here…I had read, and was told by both Bianca and Elisa that Piazza Santa Spirito can be a little rough and gritty. Bianca just advised me not to make eye contact with anyone who might be dealing drugs…will do…great advice. Elisa said it had gotten better over the past few years, but when she was in school, she didn’t go there.

Anyway…daylight here now, so no worries.

Danita and I are both drawn to imagining evenings shared around a table like this.

Day one, hour one, Danita said, “Now who would drag a table out to the street?”  I told her that after my 2015 visit, I vowed to do just that.  I wanted to have an aperitivo out/in Austin street, dragging a tavolo or due out and having friends bring chairs.  Sadly, it never happened.  Un giorno…

We make a quick spin around the piazza. I buy a piece of Arte  perfetta.


We end this portion of our day back at my appartamento enjoying the last bit of vino from Filippe, a left over piece of Pugi and the remains of the…say it with me…ffflllaaaattt-a brrreeaddd-a from the Mercato.

Then taking a bit of a rest before….you guessed it….mangiare e bere nuovamente.

On a street where we meet.

A late night, decidedly Italian meal at il Santo Bevitore, recommended by Filiippe.




Benvenuto Danita!

The Tuscan sun is up, my amica has arrived…all is good in Italia.

Brava to Danita! She did her homework. When she texted saying, “Do you know where I am? I have no freakin idea where I am!” She sent me the address and was literally a block down. I am at 26, she at 14. A meraviglioso inizio!

Within an hour, (a Firenze First I believe), Danita had bought some strappy scarpe and we were on our way to Pugi.


Danita is not one to stray from her healthy diet, but spoiler alert….we return!

Before she arrived, I made a little list highlights we could hit. After all, I only have a day and a half to get her to fall in love with mi citta. On that list was seeing The David (hey Sheryl!). So andiamo to Galleria Accademia. My intent was for us simply to do a reconnaissance run. You know, scope out the line. Make her aware of ticket cost. That sort of thing. We approach this common sight.

At about the time I was explaining ticket prices and what we would see inside, a guy approaches in a white shirt and red tie. “Hello Ladies, do you wish to see the David?” However did you know?! Medium story short, before I could say Buonorroti, Danita had purchased due biglietti from the street guy and we were being ushered to the front of no line….in we went.





Seeing this work of art is an experience that is not dulled by frequency. Created 1501-1504, out of Carrara marble, David stands 17 feet tall. This beauty at the hands of a 26 year old. I recently read Michelangelo had created a wax model of the statue. He laid it on his side and submerged it in water. As he sculpted, he would drain a bit of the water allowing an inch or so of the wax to be exposed. With this method, he approached his masterpiece detail by detail.

“Worth every euro.” -Danita Jarreau

We are fairly close to the Mercator Centrale, so I take her for a quick spin through. I am aware the REAL market is closed already, but am hopping we will return tomorrow morning. What cook can come to Firenze without witnessing the magic of the market?

Next, we roam…and are rewarded. We stumble across Le Menagere.




We are drawn in by the same feel as citta Artigianale…clean, crisp, urban and hip…ok, and we are tired, hot and thirsty.

At this point, Danita has yet to enjoy a Spritz. Even at my casa in Texas, she says she’s never had one. Well…I can fix that.

“Due Spritz, per favore.” “Espresso?” “Si…I mean No…SPRITZ”, “Ah…Spritz”. “Uhm…Si”. “One momento.”

“Vale ogni momento.” -Paige Conn


So happy to have two of my migliori amici meet.

This Spritz was not only il piu bello crafted I have ever seen, it was also the most wonderfully refreshing. We sat all proud with our works of art at the bar. Other women would come up to the bar and order a Spritz, the bartender would sling some ice, Aperol, Prosecco and club soda in to a glass…and then shove an orange slice in. The disappointed customer would look over at our glasses with severe Spritz Envy. Most would just slump and sigh and walk off with their lesser Spritz. But there was one lady who was not to be slighted. She stood there, pointed at ours and said, “What about my cucumber?” The bartender looked at her and said, “Cosa?” “Cucumber. (Pointing) I’d like cucumber.” The young bartender smiled accommodatingly. The woman had a moment of triumph…then he grabbed a black straw and stuck it in her drink. “Ecco”. Another woman’s Spritz dreams dashed.

This made ours all the sweeter…certo!

After seeing how aptly our bartender used a bar spoon…I needed one. Off to Bartolini. And yep…they had just what the bartender ordered.

Il milo cucchiaio l u n g o…It is going to make some magic!

Back to the appartamento for a little rest before…ok, let’s be honest…before we drink again.

At sette, we have reservations at Le Volpi e L’Uva. Danita is having a bit of a time getting use to the pace of the Italian waiter. Thing just don’t click along like she’s used to. We are in no hurry I assure her. Our next appointment, sunset.



Traveling with others can be tricky. But we’ve decided as long as we get a few particulars out of the way ahead of time…all should be bene. First, where Paige takes buses or let’s say walks miles (uphill) to a spot…when Danita says no, (and as we all know…she is certainly no slouch to exercise…just not the euro pincher I am) the answer is no…same in English and Italian, so…No means No.

So it is a cab ride up to Piazzale Michelangelo joining the throngs of people to watch the sun go slowly down.


This is my third visit to this vantage point…each time the vista is beautifully unique.

The Tuscan sun has set on giorno uno of Paige and Danita’s Italian Adventure, but not before a bicchiere o due di vino a La Loggia- Mangiare Con Gli Occhi e Buona Notte!

Palazzo Life

Today, I begin my morning earlier than usual.  I actually have an agenda today.

9:00 mass at Santo Spirito was a very intimate experience as there were only about dieci of us there.


As I was leaving, the priest came and shook my hand with a smile.  “Grazie , Padre.”  “Ciao! Prego.”   I Andiamo en Pace to grab a bite to eat.

I had seen a post yesterday by Curious Appetite sharing the thought of why drink caffe in the morning when you can have tiramisu from this spot, ditto Artigianale.


I do not choose tiramisu because I figure a sugar high and a tower high might not mix well, but I will return.  This place is like Italy meets Seattle or Austin.  Clean, crisp, hip.  There are tre locations in Firenze.  I actually run across another later.  But this one is right down the via from me.




Although ditta Artigianale is a place I could spend the morning…I have a tower to climb.

As I cross the Orno at Ponte Vecchio, there is a guy at work removing the Love Locks attached illegally to the bridge.  I guess there are rules to love.


During the morning I was a bit nervous the lines at Palazzo Vecchio would be long.  I need not have worried.  I do  not think this is one of the more popular tourist stops.  During my hour or so in the torre, I encounter no more than quindici persone.  This with a light breeze made for a perfetto experience.



The brochure states there are 223 steps to the top of this 95mt high tower.  Note: these steps do not include the many you climb to get to the tower.

This torre is one of the oldest parts of Palazzo Vecchio, built around 1299.  So it is vecchio, vecchio.  The tower was built as a protection from external attack, but it was also a symbol of the government lording over the Florentine families.

First stop, the highest battlement level affording a lovely terracotta and blue view.


Then, piu scale.


Before you reach the bell chambers at the tippy(ish) top, there is a small prison cell known as the Alberghetto.  I am really excited about this.  Others, stick their heads in and pass it on by.  Non me!  I want to spend some time where Cosimo the Elder (in 1433) and Fra’ Girolamo Savonarola (in 1498) were guests.  I love being in an area where you know important historical figures walked…but standing in a 10×8 cell, really concentrates that experience.  Molto, molto cool!




Can’t help but touch this…can you imagine the people and emotions that did!!??!!



The current view out of the Alberghetto is of the Uffizi and then the Arno.  Back in the day, solo Arno.

And when you reach the top, another breathtaking view.


I sent Daddy this photo and he joked about me scouting a spot for my cooking show…trying to top Giada.

There is an attendant at the top and I ask him if the bell above us is the “vacca “.  He says yes but is not sure where it got it’s name.  I enlighten him.  Vacca means cow in Italian and the bell’s toll, was said to sound like a cow mooing.  This bell was rung to summon the Florentines to Piazza Della Signoria to hear important news or to take part in a parlamento or voting.


Yesterday Daddy emailed me with a “suggestion”…go figure!  Anyway, he said, “I know this is your blog, but I think  you should include at least a photo a day with YOU in it.”  Not gonna happen Doug, but this one’s for you.


I am really looking forward to my friend, Danita, joining me in a couple of days, but there are definatley perks to traveling solo.  I do not think anyone would have wanted to spend 30+ minutes at the top of the tower while I sketched.  The few who came up would make you spin around the top, take a selfie or two and then say to their travel companion, “You ready?”


Returning to Palazzo level, I tour the various rooms, appartamento said and halls.  Sings of my amici the Medicis are everywhere.  Much of their tumultuous lives took place within these walls.  As I experienced the low point of the cell and “read” the highpoints painted on walls and ceilings, I wonder how we would illustrate our lives, condensed to its major lows and highs.

Below depicts Cosimo the Elder giving Brunelleschi (kneeling) the green light to build Basillica San Lorenzo.


Here Cosimo surrounds himself with many of the major artist of the time.  Oh Cosimo, center of the Renaissance Universe. Aspetta!


As I have said, if there is not someone barring the door, I will enter.  Case in Point…

I am just roaming through, and I find myself in an above average crowded room.  It takes me a moment to register, at some level, that the people here seem to have “costumes” on…and ridiculous hats…Then a harmonica (still confused at this choice for this venue) begins playing “Here comes the Bride”…yep, I’ve crashed un altro wedding.  I lower my head, back out and then grab a quick shot



As I stroll through the Palazzo, I am transported by Bella musica.  I enter the balcony over looking .  Even though I knew I was in a massive building, the grandeur and size of this “room” boggles my mind.  I find my way down to get a closer look/listen.

What a treat to be transported while admiring this impressive hall.  It was commissioned in 1494 by Savonarola, of all people.  He had led a revolt to oust the Medicis and founded a more democratic government, The Council of 500, hence the name “Salone dei Cinquecento”.  Piero Soderini was elected Gonfaloniere for life.  Leonardo and Michelangelo were commissioned to create great frescoes illustrating the great history of Firenze.  None of their work was ever completed, but sketches remain.

In 1540, guess who returned to power….si, bene! The Medicis.  The purpose of the hall changed to Duke Cosimo I de Medici’s “boardroom”.  And Vasari was commissioned to illustrate the Medici spun history of Firenze.

Front and center…Pope Leo X, aka Giovanni di Lorenzo de Medici.


Like the falls of the Medici, it is time for me to return to the streets.

But they are EVERYWHERE…here, meet Maria de Medici…by blub.


In the Art, Pray, Food cycle…it is time for food.

So let’s compare La Proscuitteria to All’ antico Vinaio…If the Voce della gente mean anything, All’ antico Vinaio would remain tops.


But, taste should prevail…seeing sunlight through my prosciutto is a molto bene sign.


And my choice remains true to Antico over La Proscuitteria.

Still working to recover some of the cab fare, I nibble all the way home and have a bicchiere di vino bianco in la Mia Casa.


The evenings are meant for roaming.  What a treat it was to see this street artist and his patrons enjoying his work.


Oh yeah…the evenings are meant for Spritz as well.


Today’s offering of chalk art in front of Zara made me smile.  Quite the Mash-Up…da Vinci and Duchamp…can’t wait to share this one in class.


As I walk along the Arno, on my way back home for the evening, I love seeing so many people stopping there day to admire the setting sun.


The shot below is looking back at Ponte Santa Trinita and the sun’s admirers.


With no more than the passing of dieci minuti, this was my view from Ponte Alla Carraia.  No words.


At the appartamento, I removed my shoes and began to relax.  Wait…put those sandali back on!  I just read there is a free concert back at my Palazzo.  10:00 pm-3:00am!  Andiamo!


Quick note….I was having some MAJOR technical difficulties this morning in the appartamento. I almost threw the iPad out the finestra…but while I waited for Danita to recover from her flight and our first day, I came down to ditta Artigianale. Connect with their wifi and write over 1/2 of this on my phone….so, Per favore, perdona qualsiasi errore.  I’ll try to edit later.  Ciao for now!

Mapping it Out

I finally broke down and spent 2.5 euro on a map of Firenze.  I was hesitant to buy one because I was on the lookout for something unique…  Oh well, once I get through scribbling on it…it I’ll be unique.

I am currently taking a Map Making Klass through SketchbookSkool online.  I look forward to creating a really one-of-a-kind one of Firenze, and my entire trip, when I return home.

After working on the blog all morning, I am a bit hungry so what do you say we start with some cibo from the hood.


Each time I step out into the stairway of my appartamento, I smile.  You can usually hear musica coming from a neighbor or Italian TV show playing, or just conversation.  I find it funny that things that would no doubt get on my nerves at home, here I find endearing.


In 2015, one of my last meals in Firenze was my most memorable.  I had the gnocchi at Osteria Santo Spirito.  While I was enjoying it, I so wished for Avery and Dalton, feeling a bit guilty eating something I knew they would love.  Today, I am headed back to Osteria Santo Spirito but I am going to wait to get the gnocchi until Avery is here with me.  I tried to eat there the other night, but the wait was 2 hours.  I am thinking lunch is a better choice.  First, the crowd should be less and second, I will have the rest of the day to walk off the pasta.

I arrive and all the tavoli outside are taken, but there is plenty of room inside.


I am pretty sure I already know what I am going to order, but looking over the piatti della  giornata is encouraged.  I loved the pici Cacio e Pepe so much the other night at Tamero and with it being a special of the day here, my decision is made.

I ask the girl if I can get a mezzo ordine, but she says no.  That settles it, nothing extra…just the pici.


When the piatto arrives, I am surprised because she had assured me it wasn’t a very big portion.   I did however, eat almost the entire serving!  Molto Buono.


I had a bicchiere del vino bianco della casa with my pasta.  Afterwards, I finished up with an espresso and a bottle of water.  While I was there, I made reservations for Avery and myself in July…outside table this time.


The Basilica di Santo Spirito is at the top of the piazza.  I feel embarrassed to say I do not always remember which chiesas I have visited before.  I think it is because during previous visits, I cram as much in each day as I can and it all runs together.  I do remember visting Santo Spirito in 2013.  My bicicletta tour stopped in the piazza for gelato and our guide let us jump in for a minute if we wanted.

The other night, I put a picture of the chiesa  on the post, so I did not include one this time.  Although it has a very simple facade, the interior is an outstanding example of Renaissance architecture.


The artwork housed here is impressive as well.  Michelangelo and Lippi are two of the heavy hitters represented.

And lest you think the Medicis did not have their balls in this court as well…Spotting the Medici coat of arms in Firenze is a fun and rewarding pastime.  This one is located in the ceiling of a side room off the courtyard.


Photographs are not allowed inside the chiesa, but the interior’s size and impressiveness is a secret kept by the simple exterior.  As I wound my way through the main church, admiring capella after capella, I found Saint Rita in a very prominent spot towards the back.  Near her statue and painting,  was a little table set  with prayer cards and tiny little devotional books.  I had only seen one other like it in the entire Chiesa.  I found this very special and touching.  I made a donation and will be bringing them home.  Before I left, I also bought a candle up front and returned to Saint Rita adding our family intentions to the flame.


In the piazza, I had admired numerous versions of the Holy Spirit or Santo Spirito on flags, stained glass, doors, etc.  This one was sold in the Chiesa bookstore, so added a couple with Saint Rita.


I never tire of the variety of Street Art you can find in Firenze.  Here are just a few that caught my eye today.

As I was heading to do my passeggiata at ZARA, I decided to pop into Chiesa Santa Felicita to visit once again Pontormo’s The Deposition from the Cross.  I was disappointed to see it was being restored so not on view.  However, upside was that there was a sign that said there was a free concert in an hour.  I like music, I love free…so I sat down, opened my sketchbook and waited.


It seems to be a trend that I am ending my evenings with beautiful lullabys.

More candles, more prayers.


Althought I was Oltrarno at San Felicita, I do another spin over the Arno before going back to th appartamento for the night.  And right now, I cannot remember why, but I went into the Palazzo Vecchio…when there is not someone barring the door…I’m gonna try it.  Anyway, I go in, go up a few flights of stairs and see a sign for a Tower Tour.  This really piques my Medici interest.  Molto, molto happened here for many a Medici.  I finally find someone still at work.  He politely let’s me know all is chiuso.  Before I leave, he allows me to purchase a biglietto to tour tomorrow.

Perfetto!  Tomorrow…To the Top!


Still bummed about the 17euro spent on my taxi last night, I absorb a bit of it by buying a bag of chips at my corner store and staying in.

Buon Appetito!


Cena con Gli Amici


Tip of the Day-

When in Firenze…Never Cry Over Spilled Wine…there’s always more to be found.

I am sure you are familiar with Clet Abraham’s manipulation of street signs.  This was a new one to me.

Again..A slow start to the day after spending the morning documenting the previous day.  I am learning this rhythm is not so bad…I miss much of the morning heat, head out, and am ready for lunch…the meal of the day.

Again, today, no agenda.  I just enjoy roaming about.  It is fun (and more relaxing) to imagine I live here…let’s say I am a writer for a living…or better yet, am independently comfortable…and I just go where the Firenze breeze (thank goodness for it) blows me.

Today, I actually started out looking for a place I like that has this wonderful, sugar coated, donut of sorts…couldn’t find it (even though I passed it last night) and decided it was more like lunch time.

My usual “go-to” panino shop is just down the block a bit, but after hearing a few locals kinda dis it, saying they cannot keep up the quality with all they serve, I decide to go to La Prosciutteria.  Looking back at 2015 posts, we will see this is the first place I met Elisa and Paola.


I choose schiacciata (and yes…I stumbled over saying it), prosciutto, crema di ricotta and pomodoro freschi.  The only reason the lettuce is on there is because I thought the girl was calling me “lady”…but she was really saying “lettuce?”…See, the language issue goes both ways.

It was buono, but…now don’t think I am all uppity here… the prosciutto was shaved a bit thick.  She adjusted the slicer right before me and I wondered about it…I have now tried La Proscuitteria for panino and will return…to judge…cuz’ it’s been due anni, All’Antico Vinaio.


Roaming brought me in front of the Salvatore Ferragamo store.  Although I have never purchased anything there except for a few post cards and a mouse pad…I am a patron of his wonderfully curated Museo.  Each year I visit, it is a highlight.  This year’s exhibition marks the 90th anniversary of Salvatore’s return to Italy from America.  The entire Museo gives the feel of boarding a luxury liner as you sail with Salvatore.


Around 18:00, I return to the appartamento to consider my plan for visiting Elisa and her famiglia.  Elisa was the girl I found through the Florentine in 2015.  I have many very special memories including her, her family and friends.  I know memories like that cannot be duplicated, but we’ve planned to see each other for an evening.

When I look at the address Elisa shared with me, at first I think, no problem.  Then, as the time draws nearer, I look closer and it is about 3 miles away.  I do not mind walking there, but returning late at night…makes me uncomfortable.  I share my concerns with Elisa and she shares the bus schedule with me.


Seems easy enough, right?  I decide to give it a go, but of course, head out super early.  I am expected at the office of Elisa’s mother at 8:30 pm.  I head to the train/bus station at about 7:00.

Elisa instructions said Santa Maria Novella Station.  When I get there, I look at the bus schedules but do not see 1A.  The next bus that pulls up, I put one foot in and ask, “Dove bus uno – ah?”  Pointing is good and all when you’re talking feet…with no obstructions, but as I mentioned earlier, the stazione is under construction…so I head in the vancinity of the point.

So now I am across the street from SMN stazione…bus pulls up, I put one foot in, “Dove bus uno–ah?”  Again, I follow the point around the corner on Via Nazionale.  Bus pulls up, this time I show him the address I am wanting.  God bless him…he give me sign language for “Una- Ah” (One finger, two fingers making a triangle) as he says, “U-N-A…A-aa-H-hhh.”  like I am…impaired…which I guess I am.

Next Una-Ahh (1A) bus that pulls up…I get in…only to be asked off.  “Nessus biglietto.”  Ok…”Dove biglietto?!”

Why oh Why do I make it so hard?


With my 1.20 euro biglietto in hand…I wait with all the other bus riders, moving to dodge the fumo di sigaretta as much as I can without appearing rude.

Bus Una-Ah  arrives, I show the address I am wanting to go to on my phone to the driver as she exits the bus to…you guessed it, fumo.  I ask her, “Will I know Che si fermano?” She glares at me through the fumo and says, “Si.”

As I enter the bus, I jockey for a position that allows me quick contact with my driver amica, but also a clear view of what the stops are.

As we drive, I am ticking off the stops Elisa shared with me.  All seems to be going as planned…until it isn’t.

If you refer to your scheduled stops, you will notice that after Modanna Della Querce comes Caracciolo…but it didn’t.  The next stop was Maffei.  Let me tell you, I was not the only bus rider concerned.  The entire group started hurling…Italian words…at my amica the bus driver.  I turned around to look at the Filipino/Italian woman behind me, and she just rants and shakes her head…I nod like, “I know…I’m with you!” But infatti, I am confused as all getout and a bit concerned.  At the next unscheduled stop, Boccaccio, EVERYONE exits.  EVERYONE but me.  I just sit there, bus idling while I look around…unsure of how to proceed.

My bus driving amica exits the bus, lights up, picks some tabacco from her tongue and motions for me to see her.

She once again asks to see the address I am attempting to find.  She looks for a bit…looks around the area and then says through the Fumo, “theesa eeessa bus-a uno-b.”   I say, “No, no it isn’t…it’s bus una-ah”.  She doesn’t speak but points up to the digital readout above the bus window…sure enough…it says 1B.  A bit frantic now, I tell her, “But it said Una-Ah when I got on.”  She said with a straight face, “Eettta Changed-a”.

I am fortunate enough that she showed me the way to find the path I wanted…over a small bridge, through some trees…

At this point I know I do look disabled because I cannot quit audibly saying “Eetta Changed-a” as I laugh and walk away.


Moral of THIS story…I’m paying for a taxi on the way home.


Over the footbridge and through the trees, I do indeed find the via I am searching for.  I find Mara’a ufficio building, ring, and am let in.

Although this is where Mara works, it was originally the home she grew up in, hence the kitchen and all.

It was wonderful to see Mara.  She looks the same as she did two years ago.  Elisa has matured over the time and Angela is now pregnant.


We enjoy a light meal all’aperto as we talk about what is going on in our lives.


Simple meal, simple conversation, simply lovely evening.


As darkness falls, I’ll admit, I get a bit nervous about my trek home.  I am being very clear that taking the bus home, which Elisa recommends, is not going to happen.  She tells me this is a very safe neighborhood.  I share that safe or not, I have no clue to where I am.  So Elisa calls a taxi for me.  We say our arrivederci’s and share well wishes and in no time, my cab is here.

I am not thrilled about spending how ever many euros this taxi is going to cost, but as we speed through neighborhood after neighborhood, I tell myself it is money well spent.  I had told the driver my destination was Piazza Santa Trinita, this would allow me a short stroll over the Arno to my appartamento.  I began to recognize the area when the cab came to an abrupt stop and the driver fussed about a small crowd blocking the street.  I told him that this would be fine for my stop.  I paid my 17.5 euro (ouch!) and hopped out.

I was greeted with a serendipitous end to my evening.

Dolce musica, dolce sogni…



Tuscan Dinner Crawl

Do you ever find that some days truly do not begin until the evening?  I am finding that to be more and more of my groove here in Florence.

I knew today’s highlight was going to be the Tuscan Dinner Crawl I had scheduled with Curious Appetite, so the earlier part of the day was the “same ‘ol same ‘ol”…roaming streets, popping into chiesas, observing people (I promise I am saying “same ‘ol” wink a gleam in my eye)  and then it was back to the appartamento to freshen up for the evening.

Our meeting point was just across the river, so although I did not have to be two hours early…I of course was…but I planned it this way.  We were to meet at Piazza Santa Trinita which is just around the corner from my 2015 appartamento, right off Via Tournabuoni.  There are two little trattorias I had wanted to try a Spritz at (research), so one of these was on the agenda.

The first I tried, “Solo Spritz?” “No signora.”   Off to the next.

“Solo Spritz?”…”Certo, prego!”   Perfetto.

Luckily I padded my timetable because it took quite a while for my Spritz to arrive.  I busied myself drawing their oh so cool logo and listening to Italian conversations at  the tables around me.  Speaking of Italian conversations…I am pretty secure in my prediction that I will never be able to “converse”.  As I have mentioned before…there is SO much more than knowing (clearing throat here) the “correct” word of an object.  Per esempio- Remember the first night I arrived and I was at il Santini having a glass of wine?  Well when Filippo called me on the phone, I answered it “Pronto”…and I swear I said it with authority and I even found a bit of roll in my “r”.  Filippo’s response?  “Wwwhhhattt?” Oh gee!  Then when I followed with “hhheeelllooo?”  I sounded equally confused.

Bottom line, I will continue to learn, continue to try, but saying “Schiacciata” when ordering my favorite bread will always, always throw me.

OK (which is Italian too…I got this one), il mio spritz e arrivato, and it is perfection.


The Spritz was presented with this perfetto little pizza.  I am definitely going to try these when I return.  It tasted like a small version of what my Mamma makes.

When the Spritz and the bite were gone, the drawing was complete, I was ready to meet my dinner companions.

With yesterday’s group, fresh in my mind, I was a bit apprehensive.  However, during the Chianti tour I kept telling myself, with 2 times the money and WAY less people, the crawl experience was going to be bene.

Approaching Santa Trinita, I began my assessment.


I stood around for a bit, then approached the girl in the burgundy dress.  Yes, this was Bianca, our guide.  We had an opportunity to chat a little before the other four (yep, solo quattro) arrived.  Bianca has been working for Coral (Curious Appetite) for about a year and a half.  Bianca is from Australia and studied Textile Design in college.  Bianca likes being able to dress “practically in a ball gown” to come to work each day.  Picture a young Liza Minnelli…lashes and all.

The other four arrive, brief introductions are made and we are off.  First stop, Aperitivo…due.

Il Borro Tuscan Bistro-


Wow! (I think that is Italian as well)  What a lovely way to begin the evening.  Il Borro is right off the Arno- Arno, via, Il Borro, and it is owned by the Ferragamo family…enough said.

As explained on their menu, “We do not offer simple dishes but emotions, believing that every moment deserves special feelings, that any moment could become experiences that involves our senses…”  For more reading pleasure, check out their website.

They do not offer suggestions but “proposals”.  Bianca’s proposals for aperitivo are; Spritz, white wine, Negroni…each of these will “open our palate enabling us to enjoy the evening and eat more”.

I choose what Bianca calls “double bubble”, the Spritz.  I am tempted to try my second Negroni ever, but stick with what I know I like…and can handle.  This spritz is a bit sweeter than my previous one at Da Florence.  Bianca tells me that depends on the Prosecco used.

I also had an “Ah-Ha” moment when it comes to Goat Cheese.  I did not know that goats only produce milk after having their young…not all year round like cows.  So, late spring, early summer is the time for “fresh” goat cheese.  Viceregal e Imparare.


“Crawling” with us this evening are, Rob and Robin, newlyweds from Ottawa, Canada.  Robin works for the government…yes she’s met Justin Trudeau and Rob is an accountant.  I believe he used to be a tax accountant and now works for a non-profit.  And Odelia (Odee) and Andre from New York, via San Francisco and the mid-west I think.  Odee has been in the Fashion Industry but returning to school to get a Business degree (see kids…we give good advice) and Andre is in Advertising.  Samsung is his current client.

Early on, during introductions, I mention my blog and Odee says excitedly (by the way, Odee says EVERYTHING with an innocent excitement), “OOOhhhhh, YOU’RE Girl in Roam?”  I definitely need to practice my response to this.  Although it has only happened twice, I know I respond with this “no, it couldn’t be my blog you read” confused look on my face.

Throughout the evening, the conversation is friendly, light and I believe genuine.  Topics range from Art to Human Connections to Food (certo).  When politics are mentioned…it is like someone sticking the tip of their toe in a tub of undetermined liquid.  Rob reminded us not to discuss Politics or Religion.  But it is kinda fun to watch the eyes dart from side to side.

From Il Borro, we walk Oltrarno to Tamero Pasta Bar.


In 2015 I enjoyed a Spritz and Panzanella salad here.  I am affirmed to learn this is where people in the know go.  I asked Bianca how they choose which spots to bring clients to.  She turns to me blankly and says, “We taste.”

And taste we do.  Curious Appetite has Tamero bring us a plate of their best pastas.  Each one delicate and perfetto.  I think I will be returning for the pici cacio e pepe.  Molto Buono.

As at Il Borro, Bianca lets us choose the wine we would like with dinner.  I choose a nice, crisp Vermentino with her guidance of course.


Throughout the evening, I am educated on the late 20’s to early 30’s life.  For example, Rob and Robin met “Speed Dating”.  They enlighten me that Speed Dating is so much better than meeting on-line.  And what they say seems true.  One can sit, face to face for five minutes and pretty much decide if there is any connection.  Rob says you can talk for months on-line and then meet a person and the realities hit hard.  I ask Rob and Robin what they talked about for their first five minutes…”Trashy Reality TV” replies Robin, “The Bachelor”.  (Shout Out to Avery!)

On the flip side, I often show my age…for example, writing in my little book as we go.  At one point Andrea says, “I wanna read that book you’re writing.”  I told them Bianca looks like Liza Minelli…blank stares.  Andrea made me really laugh at one point connecting me with his mother and grandmother.  “Thanks Andrea…” I say laughing as I grab my pencil, pretending to jot this nugget down.  I tell him there is no shame in being 55.  He tells me I’m “owning it”.  Do I have a choice?

Next stop Club Culinario Toscano da Osvaldo Ristorantino.


For Bistecca alla Fiorentina, we traverse back across the Arno to the Santa Croce area.  We are greeted at the door and shown to our own room.  Here, Bianca orders for us and the vino is Chianti…certo. (No Rooster though.)


With our Bistecca, we have spinaci e fagioli bianchi.

During dinner we discuss how art was the first form of Social Media and I throw around a bit of my Medici “knowledge”.

At the end of dinner Bianca asks if we want gelato from a nearby spot or do we want to wander a bit.  “Wander”, we all say.

We end up at Il Procopio.  You can tell this is a local spot.  Families take up the plastic chairs along the sidewalk.  One little girl, takes her chair and places it smack dab in the middle of the via to enjoy her sweet treat.


Andrea and Odee are pleased with their choices, and the evening as a whole I think.


I choose una piccolo coppa of pistachio e panna cotta.  This is the creamiest gelato I have ever had.  The pistachio had a little saltiness to it, which is right up my alley.


After dolce, we begin to stroll back towards Pizza Republica, dropping Rob and Robin off near the Bargello.  Bianca mentions how wonderful it is when groups can connect and enjoy each other’s company.  I agree with her that those moments of sharing and connection are heightened with Buon Cibo!

Exploring Chianti


Buongiorno…let me have my caffe primo then we can start our day.

Before I left for this trip, unlike the previous trips, I basically had zero planned ahead.  Other than my stops, the rest of the daily details were left open.

One of my fairly spontaneous decision was to go on a group tour.  Obviously, I have proven myself NOT be to be a group tour kinda gal.  But as I perused the offerings, my eye fell on “Greve in Chianti”.  Greve is a town Mom and Dad have visited several times.  In September, they hold their annual Harvest Festival and my attending someday has been a topic of conversation.  No…it is not September, but for the price offered, this is a way for me to see Greve without a car.

I have several tips I wish to share in regards to today’s outing…many of them I will keep to myself, but the first is; if you are meeting your tour at Piazzale Montelungo, approach it the easy way, through SMN Station, platform 16.  Walk ALL the way down it, exit the station, go down the ramp, and you have arrived.  I on the other hand, had no idea, followed my gps map the wide way around the station, through areas of construction, over barricades and I arrived.  I found out this more efficient way by roaming a bit before the meeting time.  I of course arrived two hours early, allowing time for any directional issues.  When I walked up the ramp, just to explore, I looked way ahead and thought, “Hey…isn’t this the station I just circumvented?”

Anyway, I arrive at what is basically a parking lot and a bus stop and I begin scoping out the caliber of persons I might be traveling with all day.  This activity did not warm my heart.  I will leave out my mental groupings, but will share the thought that I did not fit into any of them.  As it turns out, the biggest group (both in numbers and in egos) were the early 20 somethings that were either in Florence “studying” abroad or had just graduated from college and were taking this trip “before having to DO the Real World”.

I will admit there were a couple of times before boarding the bus, I considered forgoing my investment and bailing.  I was not sure how many times I could hear “Hair of the dog, Bro” or words my generation deem inappropriate for a social (let alone private) events.


OK…get on the bus, let’s commit.  I promise there are high points.

But first, let me share another not so high point…I will sum up our “guide” by saying I think this excursion was her try out for a sitcom pilot  either in Japan, Italy or possibly Russia.  Enough said.

First stop-image

The bus pulls in to the steep, rocky drive and all 70 of us (yep, 70) unload.  All 70 of us enter a small room where the proprietor of the winery attempts to share his life’s work with us.  It is difficult to hear him over the continued sharing of what clubs are good in Florence.

Here, we tasted four wines.  I was very surprised when we left that many chose to purchase bottles.  Later, at our second stop, many were disappointed they went all in too soon.


Load up, it’s off to Greve in Chianti.


Entering the piazza, I imagined it packed with festival goers and Mom and Dad in the middle having a wonderful time…wishing I were there.  Now, I wish for the same.

During this stop, we do. Not have a scheduled wine tasting, but we are free to roam about for a full 20 minutes…yep, 20 minutes.  I reluctantly follow our guide into a meat shop she has been going on and on about.  I am rewarded for being a sheep.  I am the second in line to order a panino.  Prouscuitto, Pecorino and Tartufo (truffle) spread.  Buono!

I have a few minutes remaining so I head to the church at the top of the piazza.  Somehow I know Mom and Dad went here.


When I enter la Chiesa, I am greeted by the Holy Spirit.  La Chiesa is cool with a lovely scent.  There is soft music playing, and I am the only one here.  I light candles for Mom and Daddy.


Andiamo!  Back to the bus.  Time for our 2nd winery.


Benvenuto a Poggio Amorelli.  When we exit the bus and enter the winery, we are greeted by a wide-eyed passionate uomo.  I took a short video of him speaking to us, but I am having a difficult time adding videos to the page.  But if you are ever in Chianti…look him up.

He tells us as he holds his arms up to the barrels, “Deeesa, eeesa magical placeaaa”.  And you can tell he truly means it.  He goes on to tell us about the tank-a-s and how organic the process is.  When he mentions pesticides and the like he says while crossing his arms over his chest, “Theeesa eeesa forbidden”.

When he tells us about the quality of their oak barrels, he says that French oak is “the-a best-a…” Adding, “theeessa eeesa hard-a for me-a to say-a”.

Although we will be tasting Chianti Classicos and Sooooppper Toooosaaans, “White-a wine-a lovers….do not-a cry-a”.  They also make a Vermentino in another area.

The breeze on the terrazzo is bella and I think most are impressed and have an enjoyable visit.  As I mentioned before, the conversation is now how much better this wine is than our first stop, many are disappointed with their previous purchases.  I found it hard not to order 3 bottles to be delivered.  But I console myself knowing they have an online presence.  I was impressed by all four wines we enjoyed here.


The Vermentino IGT made at their Poggio Barbone winery would be a perfect vino bianco della casa.


The Super Tuscan IGT can be delivered to tu casa for 79euro a bottle.  Hurry, only 2000 bottles max.


The proud mascot of Chianti Classico.  No Rooster…No Classico.


Wine, view and presentation…this stop was bene!

Before heading back to Firenze, we made one more stop in a town I was not familiar with- Castellina in Chianti.  Like many small villages, you park at the bottom of the town and then walk up to the village.  This discovery was the highlight of my “Chianti Excursion”. When I returned to my appartamento, I emailed Daddy to see if he and Mom had visited.  He thought it sounded familiar, but when he looked through her journals, it was not mentioned.  I told him this was to be his next real estate search.


The signs say it all.  This villaggio incantevole is close enough to the hustle and bustle but far away enough to escape it.  A twenty minute (yep) visit was not long enough!

As we bump along back to Firenze, the Tuscan sun is setting over it’s infamous landscape.  I am pleased with my day and my decision to stick with it.

I cross over the Arno back to my appartamento and am contento.