Ahhhh..... Tuscany

Sept 26-27

Today we board our vaporetto and leave Venice for Tronchetto on the mainland. There we board the bus heading for Tuscany today and I think everyone is welcoming a slower pace for a few days. We all chill out on the bus ride and are appropriately impressed when Matt maneuvers our huge bus down these tiny one way roads to the Villa il Crocicchio in Reggello, Italy


The place is wonderful, isolated and peaceful. We all get our room assignments and since its Harri and Mike’s 48th anniversary they get the honeymoon suite. My room is lovely. There is a huge pool out back, grape vineyards, and a terrific children’s playground. Many of us discover right away that the kid’s zip line is not to be missed. I swing on the wooden swing set and feel free and joyous. I find a sweet calico kitty and sit on the grass to see if he will approach me. He does, and soon he is rolling on his back and flirting with me. I feel a small solid mass on his neck and am thrown back into career mode briefly, trying to diagnose whether or not it’s fixed or moveable. He looks healthy, so I let it go.


The lighting is superb so I get my camera and set out to take portrait type photos of everyone and am successful. Everyone looks so happy, and each photo comes out beautiful. The hardest one to photograph is Stephen, because he is camera shy. We usually see him so animated that you can’t get an un-blurred picture of him, which is frustrating. I beg for a photo and he gives in and looks at me seriously. For crying out loud, I have to scold him. “You look so serious, come on!” and he replies “I’m a serious person.” How do you say “Oy Vey” in Italian, cuz that’s what I’m thinking. Finally he humors me and gives a hint of  a smile and I have to rush to capture it. The rest of the next 2 days he is smiling constantly and laughing and the life of the party, but he doesn’t seem to like posing for a photo. I find it interesting. Later in these 2 days I will discover him doing other interesting and amusing things. He’s not your average Joe.


We have a cooking demo that night and then we feast at the hotel. Mama Mia, the sound in the room is deafening. Everyone is talking and laughing and the food and wine are flowing. The energy level keeps increasing and intensifying and I put it all on mental “pause” to reflect on how we have come together as strangers just 10 days or so ago, and look at us now.  We’re like a huge Italian family. The food is great, the wine is great and the company is great.  Kevin is over the top with the food, he keeps moaning and saying "Oh my God, this is SO good."  He's right, the dinner is excellent from pesto to tiramasu.  Kevin is hysterical though, I find him more entertaining than the meal.  He and Heather have these tiny interludes that show their deep affection for one another and it's precious to watch.


Stephen's energy level begins to ramp up.  He quickly rises and with a ferfor he dashes about, up to something.  I watch, curious, with expectation.  Then I recognize it:  he is conducting.  His hands are his baton, he is setting a faster tempo, executing clear preparations and the next beat.  He's in the kitchen, cueing the staff.  Soon a gentleman appears with a flughorn, and as he begins to play, we are captured.  Not long after the final note, Mike taps silverware on his glass to call the group to attention, then he stands.  I expect him to say something funny, as he always does, but he does not.  In few words he tells the group that he would marry his wife of 48 years all over again.  There is applause, cheering  and a unification of gratidude and joy.  Part of our human experience is the challenge to release oneself into the vulnerability of love.  Eyes make contact and there is a collective hope for such a blessing for each of us, for ourselves personally, for all of mankind.  What a lovely moment to witness.



The next day we head into Florence and tour with an adorable local guide who is an American. We visit the Uffizi gallery, and it’s beautiful. The whole town has lots of places to explore, eat and shop. Everyone seems to have a game plan, which doesn’t match mine. My goal is to climb the nearly 500 steps of the il Duomo Cathedral to the top of the cupola. That means I will have to separate from the group and be on my own in a foreign city, and I am struck with fear and indecision. Cindy encourages me, “do it, you can do it.” I gulp and say “ok yes.” I tell Stephen my plan, knowing full well that he will leave me in Florence if I get lost and am not at the meeting point at 3:20. We’re to meet at the steps of il Duomo, so I feel I can do this. Everyone wanders off and I am alone. Quickly I find the Duomo and encircle it, to orient myself. There is the line to enter. I get in. It takes 30 minutes to enter and my feet already hurt. Great. I am resolved to climb it, so I stay in line.


Soon I enter the church and find the dark, winding stone stairwell and ascend. Pacing myself, even breathing, ascending, ascending, ascending, around in a spiral where the walls close in as it narrows. Oh for God’s sake, I encounter people trying to come down the same staircase that I and others are trying to go UP. The Italians, never organized. There is graffiti on the walls everywhere, and signs in English saying “do not write on the walls.” I am frozen before one of the handwritten markings. It says “Someday I’ll be here with someone."  I could have written it. It’s an important moment for me, so I snap a photo of the message, then continue upwards to the top.


I pass tons of people all sweating, panting and laughing with hearts pounding. We are an international group, united in the physical effort to climb this thing. The final 10 stairs have at least a 12 inch rise, and iron bars at the sides so you can haul yourself up. The sun is peering down into the dark gloom. I ascend and am there. At the top and in 360 degrees surrounding me I can see to the horizon of Italy. It is magical and the endorphins kick in. I could fly off the top without wings, I feel tremulous and exhilarated. I snap a few photos and take it all in. Eventually I head back down, going down the stairs where people are trying to go up. Going down is hurting my right knee, the one that had physical therapy recently. There is no elevator so I am glad for the endorphins. Climbers from all over the world are speaking their own languages, breathless and laughing, and we "high five" people from all over the world for their achievement.


Back on the ground, I don’t run into anyone else, so I stay relatively close to the Duomo but manage to find some gelato and shop for souvenirs. At 3:20 I am at the appointed place. I see Stephen who asks if I climbed the Duomo and I am giddy and yell “Yes! I am fierce, like a bad-ass!” and he yells back to me “Not LIKE a badass!” I am triumphant. I am a badass today. I love it. Nobody else took the Duomo challenge, and that makes me feel powerful.  2 years ago, couldn’t have done it. Victory.


That night we are back at the Villa and have a GREAT dinner and dance party. It’s very festive and lively and loud again. There’s a terrific band and people are singing along.  Couples are dancing on the terrace.  A bunch of Italian guys are having a retirement party in the next room.  The whole place is a party.  I have too much wine but it’s a safe place to let go, provided I can behave properly. I am still on an endorphin high, so I can’t guarantee anything at this point. We party and eat for at least 3 hours and it’s almost midnight. The drunk retirement guy takes a shine to me, and pulls me on his lap and sings to me in Italian. I'm ready to be introverted though, I'm pooped out. Most of our group head up to bed, but I want to blog, so I grab my computer and head out to the pool area in the moonlight.


Before long, Stephen shows up and he plans to swim. To me, a California native, the water is cold, but to Stephen, a Canadian, it’s tepid. I say “Stephen, you’re out of your mind!” and he dives in without making a splash and proceeds to swim a few laps like a professional swimmer. Seriously? Is there anything this guy can’t do? I say “Are you crazy, it’s freezing” and he says “No, it feels great! Are you coming in? It can’t be more than 72 degrees.” He swims to the thermometer, and guess what, it’s 72 degrees. Of course. He’s continues raving about the water and how great he feels, and then he goes into the shallow end and performs some odd ritual or something, must be a Canadian thing cuz I can’t figure out what he’s up to. I watch quietly in utter amusement. Soon he heads to bed and wishes me a good evening. That night I sleep like a dream in the comfortable bed, while the Italian staff talk and bang things around and laugh while settling the Villa down for the night.


Tomorrow we will depart for Rome, and have only 2 nights left before saying goodbye.