Month: April 2019

We feel like we crossed more than a province border when we entered the Dolomites, and particularly when we crossed into Trentino-Aldo Adige , one of the five autonomous provinces, or regions of Italy.

Think Heidi. Wooden chalets, green pastures , cold blue rivers in each town, the neatest wood piles you can imagine and mountains covered with pines and larches, and or snow. It is stunningly beautiful and we have spent days gasping in awe as we rounded a (usually hairpin) bend to see another snow capped peak.

The village we stayed in is called Moena and it is the start of the Val di Fassa, a skiing region that Jock visited rather a long time ago (when he was in his twenties ) and where he did the best skiing of his life.

The province Trentino-Aldo Adige is autonomous in order to protect its cultural and linguistic heritage. Autonomous regions get to keep more of their taxes and provide more services locally , which you would have to imagine would suit people seemingly so fundamentally different from the majority in their country. In fact the area was part of Austria till the Second World War. This region has excellent roads and services, is clean as a whistle and incredibly well organised.Those mountains certainly make for cultural and linguistic borders!

The official languages of the province are Italian and Ladin , or Ladino , which is, I’m told, a mixture of German, French and Italian. But in the province itself there are apparently four dialects of Ladino, one for each valley!

We were staying at a B and B and our hosts Christina and Eric are locals, so were a great source of information and it was certainly interesting hearing them speak Ladin to each other. I felt very proud when Eric asked me “Vur ist da Frau?” and I could respond “with Mutter” !! (Mother, of course). I was peeved I hadn’t said mit Mutter, which would have expressed a good part of my German language skills!

In school they learn German or English, as well as Ladin and Italian. It seemed to us that most people had German as their third language, rather than English, and why not, with the borders so close.

We drove to the ski slopes on what must be one of the great drives of the world. It was a day long round trip from Moena passing through hamlets, villages and ski areas, nearly all of which are now closed. One was still open though, in the glacial area of Marmolada and we stopped and watched for quite some time, as not surprisingly, there was a lovely wooden deck outside a cafe where we could sit in the sun, have a beer and watch the slopes.

Jock really enjoyed the German and Austrian beers here, which they serve cold.

We had two days of bright sun and temperatures in the low twenties , so in all the places where there was snow it was melting rapidly, so there were drips and running water sounds on all our stops.

After that I spent a day exploring Moena on my own, while Jock was laid low with a cold, and took our hosts dog, Stephy, for a long walk on the local paths. And they do have paths here. Walking and bike paths galore so I was very happy and so was Stephy, who is now my very best new friend.

Timber is huge here, with houses being decorated with wooden ceilings and carvings, and decorative wood carvings gracing most doorways. The wood piles are a work of art in themselves, and logging is a big industry.

We noticed huge swathes of pine trees had been knocked over in the forests, over many valleys and many kilometres. Christina told us that they had a massive storm last October and having had very heavy rains, the trees were uprooted in the storm. Amazingly, no damage was done to property or people, even though the roads were still quite busy at 9.30 at night. The damage was only in the forests, but it is immense and a clean up has been under way ever since. Climate change, of course.

I ate some sauerkraut and Jock had wurst, and we both enjoyed Christina’s home made Easter panetonne.

I have some more quirks of Italy to add now that we are at the end of out trip, and might do a separate post. but want to review here my earlier comments about Italian drivers. I still maintain they are skilled and defensive but after many weeks of driving, no longer think they are patient and polite. We have certainly had some hair raising moments, and are still amazed that they think nothing of overtaking on double white lines on bends and in tunnels! I am pleased to say that I do think my brain finally adjusted to the right hand drive, and I was also able, eventually, to pass through the tunnels in the mountains without having a panic attack……

We were issued with a Jeep for our last rental car, which passes as a compact car in the mountains, where the roads are decidedly wider, and that seemed like another parallel universe, compared to our little Epica.

So now we are not far from Venice, ready to go to the airport tomorrow and so to England and family. I can’t really believe our time here has ended. Its been long enough to feel quite at home in some ways. We have left plenty to see should we ever be able to return and I wouldn’t hesitate to come back………

I’ll be back in touch when we get to Helsinki. (Apart from a separate post of photos).

E stato un piacere – It’s been a pleasure. Xx

So we took Phoebe to the train station in Conegliano yesterday , for the first leg of her trip to England, and we will join her and our son Alex and his family there, next week. It’s been a busy and , I have to say, magical time in Venice, and the Prosecco region.

I’ll start at the beginning though with our two nights in Matera, way down south , following our stay in Ostuni.

Matera is fascinating , a town built on top of caves carved out of a limestone valley, where people have been in continuous residence for the last ten thousand years. We only had two nights there, our shortest stay anywhere and we were hampered by wet weather the first day. However, we were staying in a cave type house right in the historic centre, so certainly go the feel of the place (though we had mod cons of course).

We roamed the streets and were pleased that we learnt to navigate the difficult twists and turns of this huge walled town. There is a year long exhibition of Dali installations (his paintings interpreted by sculptors , so around town there are some incongruous and pretty amazing massive sculptures.

We returned the rental car there and when we left got a transfer to Bari and then a train to Venice. The train service here is excellent and we had a relaxing day watching the world go by.

We arrived in Venice in the evening and met Phoebe at the train station, which was very exciting, as you can imagine. Our transfer to our apartment was not smooth, as the water taxi took us to the wrong drop off point and there were some anxious moments as none of our phone calls would go through. However, after a reboot of the systems it all worked and our apartment host came to meet us to show us the way to our home for the next five days.

I guess a lot of you have been to Venice and know how hard it is to navigate ? I was happy to leave it to Phoebe and Jock and I have to say Phoebe nailed it pretty fast and very well. I was more than OK with it all being part of the mystery that is Venice.

I thought it was like a fairy tale and loved it all. Water everywhere , of course, but also beauty everywhere , in the streets and alleyways, in the shop windows and the restaurants and bars. I saw so many people break into smiles, as I did , when they rounded a corner and were greeted by wisteria peeping over the top of an ochre wall , a window display of stunning Murano glass, a small canal full of colourful boats, or the delicious aroma of coffee and a shining window of colourful cakes and pastries.

We spent a lot of time on the water, doing the Grand Canal more than once . We went to Murano island in the evening and were lucky that the only restaurant open was a gem, with Murano glass water glasses and napkin rings,gleaming chandeliars and excellent food, which we enjoyed as we watched the lights coming on over the water.

It was easy to get away from the crowds in the main tourist strip in Venice. We happened on art exhibitions in ancient buildings and discovered the main hospital, which of course has an historic entrance. It is a massive room , somewhat like a church with nothing in it but a red carpet down the centre leading you into the rest of the hospital. It has a soaring vaulted ceiling, stone pillars and a marble floor. Not your average hospital entrance……

On our final night we went to a classical concert in a church. They performed Vivaldi and Bach , a consummate performance in a stunning setting.

So many magic moments. So much really good food, and some very funny moments. We all got our hair cut there.

Firs t of all Jock, who dropped into a barber, of course. The barber did not speak much English but we had looked up the relevant phrases. He was a real artiste, with dancing hands as he plyed the tools (think, Cocktail) . He looked to Phoebe and me to approve the cut of the back of Jock’s hair, and to Jock to approve the sides. He was a great performer and the onlookers waiting their turn enjoyed the show. It was a great cut and Jock is very happy with it.

Phoebe and I booked into our local salon , having failed to find an English speaking one. One of them knew un piccolo English and we took the translator,However, , my cutter was not interested in having a conversation about it and launched into cutting with gusto. Phoebe and I sat next to each other as they applied loads of heat in the form of the blow dryer and brushes that they rolled into our hair and left hanging in place for a while, as we wondered what on earth we were going to be left with at the end.

The answer was, BIG HAIR. Beautiful large curls for Phoebe and lots of height and bounce for me!! It was a lot of fun , even if my cutter was about the roughest hairdresser I have ever known, shoving my head this way and that. She took to my hair with the razor and at first I was worried, but decided , what the hell, it’s only hair. I’ve got six weeks to grow it out before I go home. As it turns out, it’s not bad, but she has taken off a lot of the length I have been at pains to grow over the last year! How do you say C’est La Vie, in Italian?

I could definitely re visit Venice . But we had to leave and to do that we walked our bags to the nearest vaporetto stop (water bus), got off at the train station and took a fifty minute train ride to the town of Conegliano in the foothills of he Dolomiti in Prosecco country.

We picked up a rental car and headed into the hills to find our next stop, a winery, of course. We were blown away on that first drive with the magnificent beauty of this area; the rolling green hills, tall trees at last, with villages and church bell towers dotted through the landscape, and the mountains as back drop. As everyone says, the North is very different to the south. Of course the season is changing but it is so much greener here, more colourful and clean. Finally we have left the litter behind.

Our winery has a terrace with a view and we spent the first evening there , tasting the Prosecco and enjoying the sun and colour. We went to a restaurant in the next village for dinner but it proved disappointing. Phoebe and I chose asparagus, which is in season here, with eggs and got a massive serve of both white and green asparagus, completely unadorned (can you believe no butter ??)served with cold scrambled egg. We were a little disappointed, but it didn’t last long. The next day we headed to the small town of Asolo, which has a castle and is another walled town. Phoebe had not been to one, and we felt she had to, before leaving the country.

We found a restaurant which produced some local dishes and this time were very happy with our choices. Asparagus and eggs was in every course but we avoided it this time. (Don’t get me wrong, I love both asparagus and eggs,!).

They were once again lovely people, proud of their produce, and we had a view of the town, the pigeons and a few blokes doing something interesting to a Cyprus pine. Though we watched them for a while , we could not work out what it was they were trying to achieve, but they all seemed to be having a good time.

The drive there and back was simply spectacular, as was our evening on the terrace.

Today we have explored yet another gorgeous village nestled below the mountains and this time we walked a good distance between two villages to work up our appetite.

We particularly like Cison Di Valmareno, which has stunning stone buildings, a babbling river, lots of green trees and grass, some nice flat areas as well as its castle on the hill and a great sense of beauty and style. Arches that tempt you to walk down narrow lanes. Tiny gardens full of bright flowers in pots, wisteria draped over trees and peeping over massive stone walls, stone sidewalks and bridges. Just stunning……….

We have tried most of the wines , all Prosecco, produced by the winery we are staying at and have read about the problems that the world demand is causing, with over planting and over use of chemicals (familiar story, huh). You won’t be surprised to know that it has not taken off the edge of my enjoyment though, being a Prosecco fan from way back.

I have tried a lot of local cheeses in various dishes. The way they cook it is perhaps more interesting than the flavour of the cheeses themselves, which are all made of cows milk in this area.

So you can see its been a very indulgent time . I don’t think I have mentioned the gelato in Venice………..

It’s good that we do so much walking . And I was the first person of the season to use the pool at our accomodation yesterday. It sure was cold, but delightful. It’s been over twenty degrees here and I am really enjoying the gentle sun on my skin again, just like you guys have been enjoying over Autumn.

On Saturday we head up to Moena, right in the Dolomiti where it should be cool and crisp. We are interested to see how Easter Sunday passes in a small village, and for the first time in many years have bought ourselves an Easter egg, traditional Italian style of course.

It’s terrace time again. Ciao .

The last two places we visited were white, the white town of Monte Sant’Angelo and the Citta Bianca, Ostuni, in Apuglia.

Mont Sant’Angelo is on the Gargano Peninsular on the Adriatic coast and has attracted pilgrims since the 10th century. It has many churches ( of course) but the main one, the Basilica of San Michele, is carved into the rock walls and occupies the centre of the rocky hill. I didn’t take any photos but did find the crypt , which houses the original entry point and stairs of the pilgrims, the current church, which is basically a cave, and the accompanying museum, very interesting and quite beautiful. However, that fascination did not extend to other ten or so churches, so we satisfied ourselves with a visit to the nearby beach towns and many walks round the labyrinthine old town of Mont Sant’Angelo.

The drive there from Abruzzo was stunning, with distant mountains and a descent into far more lush and green fields. It seemed like we passed through the food bowl of Italy .

We had a great little unit in Monte Sant’Angelo, that our friend Salvatore recommended. It was the first one that had a well functioning kitchen, a very comfortable bed, a great shower , a washing machine AND a washing line, so we enjoyed some domestic down time there. I did mean to get Jock to take a picture of me at the classic Italian washing line, which is attached to the wall outside a window or, as in our case, a balcony. Ours had a view of the far off ocean and the extraordinary stone terraces that have been carved into the very steep hillsides.

We drove to the nearby coast, round hairpin bend after hairpin bend and finally arrived at the Adriatic Sea which was very blue and calm. I put my toes in and very much regretted that I had left my swimmers in the suitcase, as it was warm enough for a dip. We had to content ourselves with a long walk on the pebbly beach and some fresh seafood for lunch. We went to two towns there, one being Manfredonia, a very congested but pretty seaside hub. Can’t imagine how it copes in the season as it was already bumper to bumper traffic with no parking.

After Mont Sant’Angelo we headed further south to Ostuni which is a long way south, in Apuglia.

Here we have been very entertained by our Airbnb host, Silvano, who speaks no English, but who is irrepressible and sociable in the extreme. So he just uses the translator on his smartphone when he has to, but otherwise communicates in slow, single Italian words (which we have some chance of understanding) and brilliant sign language and sound effects. Imagine, horse , for instance in sign language and sound effects; easy.

Silvano runs a couple of hectares of olive trees which are made into olive oil, and on the property is an ancient trullo. These are traditional stone structures that have a conical roof, used on agricultural properties for living in and/or for storage.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trullo

We spent a very pleasant few hours with Silvano on his property and he also took us on a short tour, to his favourite spot on the coast, where he dives, and to a great lookout point in Ostuni. He was incredibly generous with his time and energy, but I must say, he has a great deal of energy. Is it all that coffee they drink or just the nature of these wiry, fit folk?

We also met with Emilio who came to our place with his brother Salva some years ago. He took us to the best place in Ostuni to drink granita coffee with panna ( which we had not heard of and may not have tried if we had). But we were so glad we did. It’s a delicious iced coffee with a topping of cream, very different to an iced coffee in Australia. Emilio told us a lot about the history of Ostuni and also introduced us to a number of cafe owners (as did Silvano) so we have not been short of places to drop into to have a coffee and say hi.

Amazingly, we had another very social day today when we headed to a well known seafood restaurant in the seaside town of Santa Sabina, near Ostuni. Turns out that the couple on the table next to us were Australians, who live nearby. They are only the second Australian couple we have met here. So we had a long talk and exchanged addresses with talk of house swaps etc………………….

The restaurant was right on the ocean and the food was excellent. It was packed with Italians out for their traditional Sunday family lunch.

Ostuni itself is another walled city on a hill (are you noticing the theme here) and is painted white. So its quite dramatic against the blue sky and distant ocean.

Our little unit , which is very close to the historic centre, has a conical roof on two levels inside, which are an echo of the trullo, and has a small roof terrace. We sat up there last night and with the white walls and flat external roofs , the surrounding area looked sort of middle eastern or African, but the call to prayer was church bells.

It’s been a different Italy on this Adriatic coast. It is certainly the olive growing capital of the country and the rich red soil is evident everywhere. We’ve enjoyed being near the ocean again. But we do find the litter everywhere, including on the beaches, distressing and inexplicable, given the immense pride that people seem to have in their history and culture. Just don’t get why it excludes so much of their public environment.

Tomorrow we are off to the cave dwellings town of Matera. Ciao.

Ostuni in the background.