Northern Italy
October 16th - 19th
As we left Calvi we worked our way north making a few pit stops. Our friend Ryan had spent a semester in Italy and he told us to check out Sienna. Being on our way, we pulled up to the city wall and put a few euros in the meter and took in the sites. The plaza is famous for the ancient horse races. A University is located within the city limits making this a very cool college town. Anyone who wants to do a semester or year abroad should check out Sienna. A perfect spot to have our last piece of pizza.
Next stop Firenze. With our great timing we reached downtown at rush hour. Having entered the city from the opposite end of where we picked up our friend Steve, we did not have the aid of the stazione signs. Thankfully Nick had a detailed map of the city and he guided Roby to the train station perfectly. Once we dropped Nick and Hayley off we headed to Fiesole, a small hillside “suburb” of Firenze, to revisit our favorite place from our honeymoon trip. Our goal was to find the restaurant where we shared and enjoyed the best meal we have ever eaten. It was going to be so fitting because our anniversary was coming up within a week- our present to each other. As we neared the town center we started salivating because we were going to have some of the best eggplant ever known. But to our horror Fiesole was no longer the one horse town we remembered but a thriving tourist Mecca. I experienced what Chrissy Hines described when she wrote “No More Ohio”. So many new buildings, homes and shops had been erected since our visit in 1997, we had difficulty finding our restaurant. I got weary and sick to my stomach when I realized I was not going to re-live my favorite meal because our restaurant had been converted into an art school. Distraught and disappointed I told Roby we had to go-it was no longer my Fiesole!!!
Not having much of a plan anymore we drove northward in silence trying to overcome our disappointment. I pulled out the map looking for a town to stop for the night. Not knowing one from the other we chose Lucca. It was written in larger letters leading us to believe hotels would be available. As we exited the Autostrade the town was nothing special until we reached the centro area. Jackpot! Lucca was a medieval walled city with a modern flair. Located just two hours north of Firenze close to the mountains Lucca was the ideal town. The walled city, although catering to some tourism, still maintained its small town personality. Our frown turned upside down immediately. Now all we had to do was find some good food and I would forget about my eggplant dinner. Based on our hotel manager’s suggestion we went to a local’s bistro. Located in a small renovated house in a back alley aptly called a plaza, the owners provided a warm and homey environment. Roby had a great Osso Bucco dinner served Luccian style with tomato sauce and I had a calamari dinner.
Having arrived late in the evening the lighting was not very good for photographing; therefore we decided to spend a good part of the next day in town. After a chocolate croissant at the famous local bakery next to our hotel, we walked over to the walled section of town near the Santa Maria entrance. As we crossed the arch we found the stone stairway up to the grassed pathway which encircled the town. It was an elevated park on top of the wall giving you a different perspective of the city. Everyone used it to jog, walk their dogs or just visit. We looked at each other and jinxed each other when we said-we could live here. We spent the next hour walking along the path photographing the history and architecture. At the junction we headed down into town and walked along the canal enjoying our last tour of the city. We grabbed a few things at the market for lunch to take with us on our ride toward Cinque Terre. As we strolled back through the Santa Maria entrance to our car, the smile returned to our faces. “Finding Lucca” was our salvation!!!!
Our last major stop was the Cinque Terre area on the northern Mediterranean coast. With a similar geography as the Almalfi Coast in southern Italy, the Cinque Terre provides you with breathtaking views and unfathomable architecture. The best part is the drive is nowhere near as dangerous. The road sports lanes built for the average sized vehicle. You can actually enjoy the view. The Cinque Terre is five small towns linked by the railroad or one continuous hiking trail. One can walk from town to town in about four hours along either a coastal path or a hillside trail. We did not have enough time to complete the entire hike but we did a few small sections allowing us to get some incredible photos while perched above the villages. Maintaining its old world charm and restriction of automobiles into the towns, the Cinque Terre area is not spoiled by its tourism as much as the Amalfi coast. Designated a World Heritage Site, Cinque Terre has quite a bit of protected wilderness areas. The terraced vineyards and farms dot the steep hillside with nothing hampering the incredible views. Being a bit more primitive, hotels do not line the main roadway like along the Amalfi coast. Because we had sworn off booking a hotel in advance, we were just going to wing it. As we navigated our way we took a turn toward the town of Monterosso. We parked the car and headed into town. When we came upon the “hotel district”-three hotels- a lady sitting in a chair on the sidewalk selling “local wine” overheard us talking about finding a room. In her broken English she slyly asked us if we needed a place to stay. A bit surprised by her forwardness, we reluctantly said yes. She pointed to the opening in the building and said she had a room. Knowing that the hotels in the area were quite expensive we asked how much the room rental was. She said 80 euros which was 25 euros less than the hotels. She took us up the stairs and showed us a spare room in a two bedroom apartment. No one else was staying in the unit so we had it to ourselves. Accommodations solved.
Once settled in our room, we took a stroll along the coastline path. As sunset arrived we took up at a sidewalk cafe and enjoyed our last Italian beer, watched our last Italian sunset and ate our last Italian gelato.
We got up a bit late the next morning, packed our bags; left the key in the door as instructed and headed out. As an added bonus when we were departing, the European Porsche Club was coming into town and we got a show of over 80 Porsche 911’s streaming along the windy roadway.
Passing through Aosta, our last Italian town, we reached the border, looked back with a tear in our eye, and said our final goodbyes.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
The Roman Hillside
Calvi-The Art Monastery
October 11th-15th
Although having a car in Europe is extremely expensive-about $70 for a tank of gas and the ungodly tolls on the autostrade, we were still glad we had our beloved Skoda. The scenery and towns we frequented would not have been feasible if we had used public transportation, especially our next stop Calvi dell Umbria. An hour and a half outside of Rome approximately 20 miles off the main highway snaking our way through the countryside, we reached The Art Monastery.
We found this volunteer program on a website called Working Away. We chose it not only for its location but it was a different type of program than WWOOFing. The project is run by two Americans from San Francisco with a vision to start an artist colony housed in an old monastery in the town square in Calvi dell Umbria. The monastery is being refurbished so the organization rents out an old bed and breakfast to house the artists and hold their events and seminars. It is perfectly situated on the pinnacle of the Umbrian hillside overlooking acres of olive trees with distant views of the neighboring villages. Located at a higher altitude, Calvi was showing the first signs of Fall. The first day we noticed the fog rolling in over the hillside and within minutes a horrendous rainstorm hit knocking out the electricity and rattling the windows with the wind gusts.
With October being the slow season, we had our own room in one of the suites. We shared the common areas with another worker Genevieve who is from the Philly/Boston area. Two of the other volunteers were high school graduates Hayley and Nick from Pittsburgh. They deferred their first year of college to travel throughout Europe. The rest of the cast of characters included Julia, the marketing manager, who is from the east coast, Judith the volunteer coordinator who is from “The Hague” (that’s for you Leo) and the caretaker who is from Italy. Although we were not expecting any visiting artists, we were pleasantly surprised when several travelers arrived to spend the night at the bed and breakfast. The first night, Billy and Anna from San Francisco stayed with us. Being a surprise visit, Julia had to whip together a dinner for the guests. Roby and I decided to eat with the group and we were so grateful because the conversation at dinner with Billy and Anna was so enjoyable. We “talked story” for about three hours listening to Billy’s adventures and involvement with Burning Man in Nevada . The next night our visitors were from Holland and Germany. We had planned to do a potluck dinner with all the employees and volunteers that evening so instead of cancelling it we invited Jasper and his girlfriend to join us. They fit in right away and even helped cook and clean afterwards. The kitchen scene reminded me of the Big Chill. With the wine flowing the conversation was lively. We learned Jasper is a producer of outdoor festivals in Holland. The uniqueness is they are held at castles. He researches the family who owns each castle and designs his shows around the family history. He had driven from Holland just to see this special garden in Bomarzo Italy as research for his events. Jasper and his girlfriend decided to stay a few extra days so they helped us celebrate Judith’s 30th birthday.
Thursday the weather cleared up so after our chores Roby and I drove over to the Bomarzo Gardens which is the sculpture park Jasper had told us about at dinner. It is an estate designed by an eccentric old man. After he passed away the park sat in disarray for many years until it was purchased by a foundation and revamped into a park. The pictures we took cannot capture the proportion and size of the stone sculptures. Walking through the park sparks an immediate response you are in a fairytale scene. The fog lingering over the garden pathways set the scene for the scary sculptures to come alive and attack you. A perfect place to have a festival.
One would think with all this fun we did not work. Each morning, though, Judith had a list of chores for us to complete. I helped Nick and Hayley with the maintenance and cleaning and Roby was tasked with building a new chicken tractor. The organization did not have a lot of tools or materials. After scrounging around the site, Roby found some old lumber, a used broken screen door, and some bent nails. Walla, he had everything he needed. On our last day he put on the finishing touches-a solar sunscreen to provide shade. Judith and I grabbed the chickens to test out the new contraption. They loved it. Now they could move around the yard instead of being cooped up in one spot. Roby was their hero.
Our week went by too quickly. Roby and I said goodbye to Judith and the gang, letting them know we would be back to see the finished project. Since we were heading toward Florence we offered to give Hayley and Nick a ride to the train station for their trip to Pisa. Road Trip!
October 11th-15th
Although having a car in Europe is extremely expensive-about $70 for a tank of gas and the ungodly tolls on the autostrade, we were still glad we had our beloved Skoda. The scenery and towns we frequented would not have been feasible if we had used public transportation, especially our next stop Calvi dell Umbria. An hour and a half outside of Rome approximately 20 miles off the main highway snaking our way through the countryside, we reached The Art Monastery.
We found this volunteer program on a website called Working Away. We chose it not only for its location but it was a different type of program than WWOOFing. The project is run by two Americans from San Francisco with a vision to start an artist colony housed in an old monastery in the town square in Calvi dell Umbria. The monastery is being refurbished so the organization rents out an old bed and breakfast to house the artists and hold their events and seminars. It is perfectly situated on the pinnacle of the Umbrian hillside overlooking acres of olive trees with distant views of the neighboring villages. Located at a higher altitude, Calvi was showing the first signs of Fall. The first day we noticed the fog rolling in over the hillside and within minutes a horrendous rainstorm hit knocking out the electricity and rattling the windows with the wind gusts.
With October being the slow season, we had our own room in one of the suites. We shared the common areas with another worker Genevieve who is from the Philly/Boston area. Two of the other volunteers were high school graduates Hayley and Nick from Pittsburgh. They deferred their first year of college to travel throughout Europe. The rest of the cast of characters included Julia, the marketing manager, who is from the east coast, Judith the volunteer coordinator who is from “The Hague” (that’s for you Leo) and the caretaker who is from Italy. Although we were not expecting any visiting artists, we were pleasantly surprised when several travelers arrived to spend the night at the bed and breakfast. The first night, Billy and Anna from San Francisco stayed with us. Being a surprise visit, Julia had to whip together a dinner for the guests. Roby and I decided to eat with the group and we were so grateful because the conversation at dinner with Billy and Anna was so enjoyable. We “talked story” for about three hours listening to Billy’s adventures and involvement with Burning Man in Nevada . The next night our visitors were from Holland and Germany. We had planned to do a potluck dinner with all the employees and volunteers that evening so instead of cancelling it we invited Jasper and his girlfriend to join us. They fit in right away and even helped cook and clean afterwards. The kitchen scene reminded me of the Big Chill. With the wine flowing the conversation was lively. We learned Jasper is a producer of outdoor festivals in Holland. The uniqueness is they are held at castles. He researches the family who owns each castle and designs his shows around the family history. He had driven from Holland just to see this special garden in Bomarzo Italy as research for his events. Jasper and his girlfriend decided to stay a few extra days so they helped us celebrate Judith’s 30th birthday.
Thursday the weather cleared up so after our chores Roby and I drove over to the Bomarzo Gardens which is the sculpture park Jasper had told us about at dinner. It is an estate designed by an eccentric old man. After he passed away the park sat in disarray for many years until it was purchased by a foundation and revamped into a park. The pictures we took cannot capture the proportion and size of the stone sculptures. Walking through the park sparks an immediate response you are in a fairytale scene. The fog lingering over the garden pathways set the scene for the scary sculptures to come alive and attack you. A perfect place to have a festival.
One would think with all this fun we did not work. Each morning, though, Judith had a list of chores for us to complete. I helped Nick and Hayley with the maintenance and cleaning and Roby was tasked with building a new chicken tractor. The organization did not have a lot of tools or materials. After scrounging around the site, Roby found some old lumber, a used broken screen door, and some bent nails. Walla, he had everything he needed. On our last day he put on the finishing touches-a solar sunscreen to provide shade. Judith and I grabbed the chickens to test out the new contraption. They loved it. Now they could move around the yard instead of being cooped up in one spot. Roby was their hero.
Our week went by too quickly. Roby and I said goodbye to Judith and the gang, letting them know we would be back to see the finished project. Since we were heading toward Florence we offered to give Hayley and Nick a ride to the train station for their trip to Pisa. Road Trip!
The Road to Calvi
Amalfi Coast and Rome
October 9th and 10th
After 10 days of manual labor on the farm we left with fond memories, blisters on our hands from digging fence post holes, cranberry red stained fingernails from making Pinot Noir wine, a fat lip from hitting my head on a stone countertop during a fall and 10 newly earned pounds from eating pasta at every meal. We decided we needed some rest and relaxation. Therefore, we chose to spend some time on the Amalfi Coast before heading up to Calvi dell Umbria for our next assignment.
From San Giovanni two different driving routes led to the Coast. Of course we took the “Zen” way-heading up the Italian version of the PCH along the Mediterranean Sea. Once we passed Salerno we were in for a ride. Now I know why Europeans are better at Grand Prix and Motorcycle Racing. We had approximately 50 miles on a one and a half lane windy no guard rail road carved into the mountain at 500 feet above sea level. Roby was driving with white knuckles wishing he knew how to swear in Italian at the crazy tour bus drivers who had no business being on this road and the completely lunatic scooter riders. Some of the turns were at such a sharp angle you had to come to a complete stop, make sure no oncoming traffic was in your way, and then quickly bend around the corner. The only consolation to this hair raising ride was the incredible unobstructed view of the entire Amalfi Coast from The Hotel Doria at the summit.
All we needed to cure us was a hot shower and a drink. After 10 days of cold slow dripping showers at the farm, I just wanted to let hot water drown me for at least 15 minutes. I also needed to shave desperately. I was starting to look like a European!!! Squeaky clean and in new outfits we headed down to the hotel restaurant for lunch. Not having the energy to venture too far from home we decided to enjoy our immediate surroundings for the afternoon. Roby took full advantage of our deck soaking up some sun, playing his guitar and drinking a cold beer. That evening our nerves had calmed down so we decided to head into the town of Amalfi back down the hill. Thankfully we did not have to drive; the hotel had a shuttle. I am not sure if being a passenger is any better especially with an Italian driver. We were vindicated though because the hotel driver was swearing at the same tour bus drivers and scooters as we were. He dropped us off in the town square and would be back to pick us up in 4 hours.
The town square is perfectly located on the water’s edge with a big jetty and boardwalk. It was almost sunset so we took a stroll along the waterway enjoying the view. The weather was perfect-what we call “no weather”. The air is still and the temperature is exactly where you can be completely naked and not feel anything. Okay we had clothes on but we did not need a jacket. We headed toward the tourist trap area with all the shops and ventured through the narrow streets window shopping. We happened upon a great little store famous for its locally made limoncello and olive oil. Everything made in this region has a twinge of lemon in it even the chocolate. We can attest, the lemon white chocolate is delicious. The store owner gave us some samples and we ate the whole plate. After purchasing several items and cleaning out our bank account, we decided to have a glass of wine and people watch. The café was perfectly located in the center of town with the colossal church anchoring the street scene. As the sun set we continued our stroll through town and found a quaint little restaurant tucked away behind several buildings up three flights of stairs. To find the good food you have to let your nose lead you.
With the fall breeze coming through the open window it took the coffee to wake Roby up the next morning. Luckily, because we had only 20 minutes to spare for the free breakfast buffet. It was delightful, fresh squeezed juice, fresh fruit and yogurt, and chocolate pastries all with a view of the mountains and sea. Trying to delay our departure we hiked up the hotel spiral staircase to the outdoor veranda where we had an unobstructed view of the entire coastline. The noon bell rang and with the long ride to Rome we forced ourselves out of the lounge chairs. Wish we could have stopped time.
We loaded up and decided to continue around the mountain through Positano and Sorrento before we hit the A1 freeway to Rome. This choice was made after we missed the turn to the freeway just outside of Amalfi. Sometimes mistakes turn out for the better because the drive was gorgeous. The three hour ride turned into five because of our wonderful navigation skills. No problem finding Rome it was our hotel we could not locate even though we passed it several times. Luckily we noticed the street name on our third pass and finally rolled into the parking lot close to dark. Despite our best efforts to head into the city for an evening of pleasure, we ended up having dinner at the local German Bier Garden. One would think the menu would be filled with wonderful sausage sandwiches and sauerkraut but in Italy, every restaurant regardless of its ethnicity only serves Italian food. Therefore it was pizza and Bier.
The next morning we drove to the subway station and took the train into Rome. Two places we missed on our last visit to Italy was the Vatican Museum and the Pantheon. Unbeknownst to us the Vatican Museum is not open on Sunday. Although we were disappointed in not getting to see the famous art collection, the Pope was in town and once we made it through the tight security and metal detectors we watched Him give Mass. Unfortunately there was no shade and it was an excruciatingly hot day so we cut our visit with the Pope short and headed toward our next stop. As we walked to the Pantheon I remembered why I loved Rome so much. I am not sure another place exists where history hits you around every corner. Paris is an incredible city but the architecture is mostly from one era. In Rome you are bombarded with buildings and sculptures from an array of time periods. The Pantheon is no exception. The outside reveals its age but once you enter the church you are surprised by the preservation of the interior. Stunned by the use of color and carvings in the stone walls as well as its design, we were amazed such a scientific feat was accomplished. As we exited the Pantheon we happened upon the Trevi Fountain. Oh just another masterpiece from Roman times.
October 9th and 10th
After 10 days of manual labor on the farm we left with fond memories, blisters on our hands from digging fence post holes, cranberry red stained fingernails from making Pinot Noir wine, a fat lip from hitting my head on a stone countertop during a fall and 10 newly earned pounds from eating pasta at every meal. We decided we needed some rest and relaxation. Therefore, we chose to spend some time on the Amalfi Coast before heading up to Calvi dell Umbria for our next assignment.
From San Giovanni two different driving routes led to the Coast. Of course we took the “Zen” way-heading up the Italian version of the PCH along the Mediterranean Sea. Once we passed Salerno we were in for a ride. Now I know why Europeans are better at Grand Prix and Motorcycle Racing. We had approximately 50 miles on a one and a half lane windy no guard rail road carved into the mountain at 500 feet above sea level. Roby was driving with white knuckles wishing he knew how to swear in Italian at the crazy tour bus drivers who had no business being on this road and the completely lunatic scooter riders. Some of the turns were at such a sharp angle you had to come to a complete stop, make sure no oncoming traffic was in your way, and then quickly bend around the corner. The only consolation to this hair raising ride was the incredible unobstructed view of the entire Amalfi Coast from The Hotel Doria at the summit.
All we needed to cure us was a hot shower and a drink. After 10 days of cold slow dripping showers at the farm, I just wanted to let hot water drown me for at least 15 minutes. I also needed to shave desperately. I was starting to look like a European!!! Squeaky clean and in new outfits we headed down to the hotel restaurant for lunch. Not having the energy to venture too far from home we decided to enjoy our immediate surroundings for the afternoon. Roby took full advantage of our deck soaking up some sun, playing his guitar and drinking a cold beer. That evening our nerves had calmed down so we decided to head into the town of Amalfi back down the hill. Thankfully we did not have to drive; the hotel had a shuttle. I am not sure if being a passenger is any better especially with an Italian driver. We were vindicated though because the hotel driver was swearing at the same tour bus drivers and scooters as we were. He dropped us off in the town square and would be back to pick us up in 4 hours.
The town square is perfectly located on the water’s edge with a big jetty and boardwalk. It was almost sunset so we took a stroll along the waterway enjoying the view. The weather was perfect-what we call “no weather”. The air is still and the temperature is exactly where you can be completely naked and not feel anything. Okay we had clothes on but we did not need a jacket. We headed toward the tourist trap area with all the shops and ventured through the narrow streets window shopping. We happened upon a great little store famous for its locally made limoncello and olive oil. Everything made in this region has a twinge of lemon in it even the chocolate. We can attest, the lemon white chocolate is delicious. The store owner gave us some samples and we ate the whole plate. After purchasing several items and cleaning out our bank account, we decided to have a glass of wine and people watch. The café was perfectly located in the center of town with the colossal church anchoring the street scene. As the sun set we continued our stroll through town and found a quaint little restaurant tucked away behind several buildings up three flights of stairs. To find the good food you have to let your nose lead you.
With the fall breeze coming through the open window it took the coffee to wake Roby up the next morning. Luckily, because we had only 20 minutes to spare for the free breakfast buffet. It was delightful, fresh squeezed juice, fresh fruit and yogurt, and chocolate pastries all with a view of the mountains and sea. Trying to delay our departure we hiked up the hotel spiral staircase to the outdoor veranda where we had an unobstructed view of the entire coastline. The noon bell rang and with the long ride to Rome we forced ourselves out of the lounge chairs. Wish we could have stopped time.
We loaded up and decided to continue around the mountain through Positano and Sorrento before we hit the A1 freeway to Rome. This choice was made after we missed the turn to the freeway just outside of Amalfi. Sometimes mistakes turn out for the better because the drive was gorgeous. The three hour ride turned into five because of our wonderful navigation skills. No problem finding Rome it was our hotel we could not locate even though we passed it several times. Luckily we noticed the street name on our third pass and finally rolled into the parking lot close to dark. Despite our best efforts to head into the city for an evening of pleasure, we ended up having dinner at the local German Bier Garden. One would think the menu would be filled with wonderful sausage sandwiches and sauerkraut but in Italy, every restaurant regardless of its ethnicity only serves Italian food. Therefore it was pizza and Bier.
The next morning we drove to the subway station and took the train into Rome. Two places we missed on our last visit to Italy was the Vatican Museum and the Pantheon. Unbeknownst to us the Vatican Museum is not open on Sunday. Although we were disappointed in not getting to see the famous art collection, the Pope was in town and once we made it through the tight security and metal detectors we watched Him give Mass. Unfortunately there was no shade and it was an excruciatingly hot day so we cut our visit with the Pope short and headed toward our next stop. As we walked to the Pantheon I remembered why I loved Rome so much. I am not sure another place exists where history hits you around every corner. Paris is an incredible city but the architecture is mostly from one era. In Rome you are bombarded with buildings and sculptures from an array of time periods. The Pantheon is no exception. The outside reveals its age but once you enter the church you are surprised by the preservation of the interior. Stunned by the use of color and carvings in the stone walls as well as its design, we were amazed such a scientific feat was accomplished. As we exited the Pantheon we happened upon the Trevi Fountain. Oh just another masterpiece from Roman times.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
WWOOFING In Italy
San Giovani a Piro, Italy - Oct. 10th-20th 2009
We made our daredevil 7 hr drive on the autostrada in the Skoda Roomster rental car from Umbria south to San Giovani. When we exited the freeway and headed toward the sea on the narrow curvy roads, the terrain became more dramatic with higher mountains and deeper valleys. From the exit, after about an hour of driving, we finally made the climb up the mountain road and arrived in a small picturesque Italian hillside village. We tried to find the road per our instructions but there were not many street signs so we called the owner of the wwoofing farm where we were going to stay and he said he would meet us. Sebastiano was a handsome and fit 50 yr old well dressed grey headed guy driving a beat-up 2 door 4 wheel drive white Fiat Panda hatch back. We followed him up and down and around very narrow cobbled village streets at a rather high rate of speed until we reached the house, a large old building anchoring the lower edge of this medieval hilltop village. The house was a massive 4 story tall but narrow structure that followed the contour of the land for probably 150 ft with stone retaining walls above and below it. It was old with areas of exposed stone masonry but mostly stucco of various mottled shades of beige and of course the red clay tiled roof.
We entered the back door on the ground floor into what was like a huge old basement with rough cobbled floors, and century old relics of farming tools, olive grinding mills, wine making presses and oak barrels spread out in work rooms and storage rooms that seemed to go in both directions forever. He led us up the stairs to the main entrance level where there were 12 ft tall double wood doors with hand forged iron hardware that opened out onto the village street. Another flight of stairs took us up to the much more refined and finished main living area with polished Italian marble floors, antique furniture, chandeliers and large paintings. There were two bedrooms and an office on one end with the formal dinning room, kitchen, den and outdoor terrace on the other end. Up another flight of stairs to the top floor there were three more large bedrooms, another office and some other storage rooms. I’d say with all floors probably 12k sf of house.
After unloading our bags in our room on the top floor we went down to the kitchen area to meet the two other woofers and Sebastiano’s 75 year old Mother Fiamma. She explained to us that the house was a 400 yr old family country hunting palace and went over some of her specific details of the house and kitchen dos and don’ts. I had a hard time focusing because I kept looking out of the huge windows at the surrounding landscape and the unbelievable setting of this little town. Below the house was a sloped green river valley with intermittent farm cottages surrounded by pastures, field crops, vineyards and olive orchards. In the distance across the valley were residing ridges of overlapping shades of green forests. Looking to the left the valley continued to slope quickly upwards to a fantastic vertical light grey almost white granite mountain peak that towered over the village - to the right the valley sloped for 20 miles all the way down to where you good see the blue half moon Bay of Sapri on the Mediterranean Sea. All of the land immediately below the house all the way down to the river was Sebastiano’s – probably a few hundred acres of prime farmland with an old farm house that he was renovating into an agro-tourism lodge. And this was just one of several of his parcels of land in the area.
As Sebastiano made dinner we chatted with our housemates Andrew – a recent college grad from New York and Stefan – a late 20-something chef from Paris. They both had been there already for a few weeks so they showed us around the house a bit more and gave us a run down on how things worked, what the work days would be like and how to stay on mama Fiama’s good side. She was not real comfortable with Sebastiano inviting these yahoo strangers from god knows where into her house to live and work. She is an intelligent, rather fussy, prim and proper widower from Italian royalty whose prized possessions were her wine glasses and stoneware. She also had a pet peeve for beautiful
and absolutely correct table settings. Dinners were delicious (always with bread and homemade wine), very formal presentations and usually filled with lively conversation which escalated into a loud almost yelling mix of Italian / English between Sebastiano and his mother over some obscure community political issue.
Later in the evening Andrew told us the daily routine was to wake and have breakfast around 7:30 am then take the kitchen scrap bucket down the hill to collect semi rotten fruit from the fig trees, persimmon trees and Indian fig cactus, along with a basket of moldy pressed grape pulp down through the vineyard to feed the two pigs. Once we finished feeding the pigs we would come back up to the house and wait for Sebastiano to instruct us on the day’s chores. I was asked to “Turn The Wine” – I was so excited. Andrew and Stefan had just harvested and pressed the pinot noir grapes a few days before we got there. The grape pulp and juices were now fermenting in four 500 liter tubs but had to be turned twice a day once in the morning and once at night unless of course it was a full moon then you shouldn’t touch it for two days. Turning is required because the grapes rise to the top of the tub to form this mat of pulp and the juice is at the bottom. The wine needs to be mixed up so it all ferments evenly. It’s a chore but a messy bit of fun.
We then hopped into the Fiat Panda with Sebass, as Andrew called him, to go off and harvest some walnuts. Patti shared the passenger seat with Vikka the black cocker and Andrew and I sat backwards in the hatchback complete with some scattered hand tools, old gloves for cushioning, a gas soaked rope, a water jug and 2 big baskets for the nuts. We headed through the windy streets of town and up a steep mountain on a mix of cobble and dirt roads at near rally speeds with our feet hanging out of the open hatchback to let some fresh non-emission controlled tail pipe fumes into the car. When we arrived Sebastiano pulled up onto a grassy leveled pasture under the shade of a walnut loaded tree. We piled out of the car, dizzy from the blur of riding backwards, to take in an incredible view from the site which was just below the vertical granite bluffs looking all the way down to the sea. It was about 68 degrees with sunshine, a faint breeze, a few misty clouds hanging half way up on the mountain and wild fennel & mint growing everywhere. Andrew scaled the tree to shake some nuts loose and we filled our baskets to the sound of wild donkey kongs echoing in the cliffs and jingling herds of bell collared goats somewhere down valley.
After lunch on the fourth story open air sunset terrace back at the palace we sat and ate American grapes for dessert. They are like concord grapes you just squeeze on the skin, and the meat, sweet juices and seeds pop into you mouth. We had a little siesta up in our room for an hour or so between 2 and 3 pm and then Sebass suggested we all go wild mushroom hunting. We followed him in our Skoda around to the back side of the mountain and up this gnarly rock road to his favorite childhood hunting grounds. We each grabbed a basket and a hiking cane and headed down the steep wooded slopes. It was a rich mix of biodiversity with pines and oaks evenly spaced over lush grasses, ferns, wild herbs and giant hidden mushrooms. We later found out that it’s not unheard of to run into the highly poisonous Viper snake in this region of Italy - Greaaat. After an hour of hiking around we had filled our baskets with probably 8 or 10 different varieties of edible mushrooms. Sebass would rummage through our findings and toss out the toxic species and praise us with an approving chuckle and a “Well Done” if we had found any of the rarer varieties – some so prized that they cost as much as $75 an entrée in a good restaurant in Rome. Dinner was gonna be special tonight! Actually we had mushrooms on pizza, in pasta, in soup, in salads, in the risotto and of course just sautéed pretty much every night all week. Fine with us!
The next day, after turning the wine and feeding the pigs, we harvested some organic tomatoes and tilled & weeded a 25’ by 50’ section of the garden with hand tools to prepare it for planting later in the week - a good little morning’s workout. Midweek Patti and Stefan boiled some jars and prepared a hug vat of fig jam for canning in the basement. Of course I had to sample a ladle or two of the sugary slurry straight from the caldron before they were allowed to can.
About every other night Fiama would have friends or neighbors from the local village over to join us for dinner – always a formal occasion with impeccable place settings accompanied by a table center piece arrangement of flowers, garden fruits or vegetables and some of our beautiful mushrooms. We normally didn’t sit for dinner until about 9 pm and the mostly Italian conversation would get louder in direct proportion to the amount of wine that was poured - lasting until 11 pm at times. One evening we were pleasantly surprised with an impromptu concert. Fiamma’s guest was a professional musician and he brought his guitar with him so after dinner we congregated in the kitchen and he and Andrew who played the banjo, put on a two hour jam session for us all.
Waiting for dinner one night Patti and I were lounging around upstairs, Patti reading and I practicing my guitar, when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a small shadow streak across the wall in dim light. We looked at each other at the same time and both said – what was that? Then, as it made another pass, we both clearly saw what it was and screeched in unison – It’s A Bat! Patti immediately ducked under her pillow and I began to nervously dance around the room unsuccessfully wielding my guitar as a bat swatter. After stirring us around for a minute or two it finally disappeared into the adjoining office and I quickly closed the double doors. As I said, we were in a 400 year old structure.
At diner that night we made plans with Andrew to join us for a Saturday road trip to the Pompeii ruins. The 2 hr. drive along the Italian coastal back roads was great. We stopped along the way at a cheese shop, in the middle of the Buffalo Mozzarella producing region of Campana, to get some fresh Buffalo Mozzarella cheese balls. We didn’t even get back to the car before we opened up the package and passed it around scarfing it down as we stood in the parking lot. Incredible stuff.
Pompeii was a wonderful look back in time. What an amazing city and lifestyle it must have been. With Mt.Vesuvius towering overhead, we walked along Pompeii’s 2000 year old cobbled stone streets in and out of palatial residences with colorfully plastered walls, marble floors and courtyard fountains and strolled up to what used to be a street side wine bar with wine vases and stone tile mosaic counter tops still intact. The wonder of what it must have been like?
We were having a lot of fun on the farm and the surrounding area so far but Sebastiano had a sizable chore in store for us the last week we were there. We would now start to earn our room and board by constructing a hog wire fence around the walnut tree pasture. Sebastiano planned to build a new pinot noir vineyard and he needed to keep out the free-range goats. After a twenty minute argument between Sebass and his farm manager Savalio as to how to construct the fence, Sebass strung a rope along the proposed alignment, took two paces to show me the spacing and handed me a 15 pound straight iron digging bar to make the post holes. Sebass would cut the salvaged tree limb fence post to length, I would dig the holes, Andrew would pound the post in and Patti and Stefan would be the wire fence stringers and tiers. The soil was moist and loose, easy for digging in, and had just the right amount of gravel in it to make the post sturdy. It was tough work but it actually went much quicker and easier than expected. Unfortunately Andrew and Stefan were leaving; so Roby and I had to finish the job by ourselves. Sebass decided he wanted to change the alignment requiring us to remove a portion of the fence and redo it. Four days later we completed 500 linear feet of fence.
Feeling bad about the extra hours he had us work, Sebass gave us an early reprieve the next day. Roby and I took a drive and hung out at the beach on the Mediterranean Sea. Nestled at the base of the Cilento National Forest the beach creeps out from the primitive sand dunes and native vegetation. The sand is more gravel-like with a rocky entrance into the water. Although not as warm as on the Spanish coast, we braved the waves. Trying to absorb the balance of the sun, we hung out on our make-shift beach blanket, but as the sun was going down, Patti started shivering. She immediately ran back to the car and changed into her clothes. We spent the remaining portion of the evening enjoying the dark reddish-orange sunset.
We realized we had been in San Giovanni for almost a week and had hiked up to the mountain above the village and driven to the neighboring villages of Sapri and Scario, but we hadn’t walked up through the heart of the old village centro of San Giovanni even though it was located within walking distance from the house. Our next free afternoon Patti and I ventured up the steep streets to find a beautiful historic centre that is a labyrinth of little alley-ways and lanes that wind and intersect around the 2 ancient town squares: Piazza Teodoro Gaza, where you can find the Chiesa Madre (church) dating back to the 15th century, and Piazza San Gaetano. The narrow steep passage ways which were barely wide enough to walk led you through 3 to 5 story medieval stone and stucco structures terraced up the hillside. Each home had its own personality with mottled layers of paint, tons of hand crafted stone, and wood and iron details. The village as most of the Italian towns was initially built thousands of years ago as a high density community to protect itself from neighboring warriors but also for the efficiency of shared resources. What a concept!
Our final days were spent tending to the wine. After letting the wine rest during the full moon phase, we completed one last “turn” and checked the sugar content. The gravitational pull from the moon did its job and extracted the rest of the juices from the pulp. It was time to make the wine!! Savalio, the expert winemaker and winedrinker, instructed us on the procedure. In short form: you scoop out the fermented grape pulp from the hug vats with a 5 gallon bucket and dump it into the wine press. Another person compresses the grapes in the press until it is full. Then you manually crank the press hundreds of times to get all the juices out which would be collecting in small plastic buckets under the spickets of the press. Each time these buckets filled up, you would pump the wine juice into the curing barrels, and keep going until no juice is left in the press. Any remaining juice in the vats, after all pulp was removed, would be pumped directly into the curing barrel. Unfortunately during the process, Savalio had to leave and Roby and I were left on our own. Thankfully Maria, Savalio’s wife and her mother came over and helped us pack and press the wine. To make the afternoon more enjoyable all four of us sampled the wine frequently straight from the press spout for quality control. A few minor mechanical difficulties set us back a bit making it two 10 hour workdays. The night before we left, we put the finishing touches on over 1500 liters of Pinot Noir and set it to rest for a few weeks before it was to be bottled.
Roby and Patti professional wine-makers.
We made our daredevil 7 hr drive on the autostrada in the Skoda Roomster rental car from Umbria south to San Giovani. When we exited the freeway and headed toward the sea on the narrow curvy roads, the terrain became more dramatic with higher mountains and deeper valleys. From the exit, after about an hour of driving, we finally made the climb up the mountain road and arrived in a small picturesque Italian hillside village. We tried to find the road per our instructions but there were not many street signs so we called the owner of the wwoofing farm where we were going to stay and he said he would meet us. Sebastiano was a handsome and fit 50 yr old well dressed grey headed guy driving a beat-up 2 door 4 wheel drive white Fiat Panda hatch back. We followed him up and down and around very narrow cobbled village streets at a rather high rate of speed until we reached the house, a large old building anchoring the lower edge of this medieval hilltop village. The house was a massive 4 story tall but narrow structure that followed the contour of the land for probably 150 ft with stone retaining walls above and below it. It was old with areas of exposed stone masonry but mostly stucco of various mottled shades of beige and of course the red clay tiled roof.
We entered the back door on the ground floor into what was like a huge old basement with rough cobbled floors, and century old relics of farming tools, olive grinding mills, wine making presses and oak barrels spread out in work rooms and storage rooms that seemed to go in both directions forever. He led us up the stairs to the main entrance level where there were 12 ft tall double wood doors with hand forged iron hardware that opened out onto the village street. Another flight of stairs took us up to the much more refined and finished main living area with polished Italian marble floors, antique furniture, chandeliers and large paintings. There were two bedrooms and an office on one end with the formal dinning room, kitchen, den and outdoor terrace on the other end. Up another flight of stairs to the top floor there were three more large bedrooms, another office and some other storage rooms. I’d say with all floors probably 12k sf of house.
After unloading our bags in our room on the top floor we went down to the kitchen area to meet the two other woofers and Sebastiano’s 75 year old Mother Fiamma. She explained to us that the house was a 400 yr old family country hunting palace and went over some of her specific details of the house and kitchen dos and don’ts. I had a hard time focusing because I kept looking out of the huge windows at the surrounding landscape and the unbelievable setting of this little town. Below the house was a sloped green river valley with intermittent farm cottages surrounded by pastures, field crops, vineyards and olive orchards. In the distance across the valley were residing ridges of overlapping shades of green forests. Looking to the left the valley continued to slope quickly upwards to a fantastic vertical light grey almost white granite mountain peak that towered over the village - to the right the valley sloped for 20 miles all the way down to where you good see the blue half moon Bay of Sapri on the Mediterranean Sea. All of the land immediately below the house all the way down to the river was Sebastiano’s – probably a few hundred acres of prime farmland with an old farm house that he was renovating into an agro-tourism lodge. And this was just one of several of his parcels of land in the area.
As Sebastiano made dinner we chatted with our housemates Andrew – a recent college grad from New York and Stefan – a late 20-something chef from Paris. They both had been there already for a few weeks so they showed us around the house a bit more and gave us a run down on how things worked, what the work days would be like and how to stay on mama Fiama’s good side. She was not real comfortable with Sebastiano inviting these yahoo strangers from god knows where into her house to live and work. She is an intelligent, rather fussy, prim and proper widower from Italian royalty whose prized possessions were her wine glasses and stoneware. She also had a pet peeve for beautiful
and absolutely correct table settings. Dinners were delicious (always with bread and homemade wine), very formal presentations and usually filled with lively conversation which escalated into a loud almost yelling mix of Italian / English between Sebastiano and his mother over some obscure community political issue.
Later in the evening Andrew told us the daily routine was to wake and have breakfast around 7:30 am then take the kitchen scrap bucket down the hill to collect semi rotten fruit from the fig trees, persimmon trees and Indian fig cactus, along with a basket of moldy pressed grape pulp down through the vineyard to feed the two pigs. Once we finished feeding the pigs we would come back up to the house and wait for Sebastiano to instruct us on the day’s chores. I was asked to “Turn The Wine” – I was so excited. Andrew and Stefan had just harvested and pressed the pinot noir grapes a few days before we got there. The grape pulp and juices were now fermenting in four 500 liter tubs but had to be turned twice a day once in the morning and once at night unless of course it was a full moon then you shouldn’t touch it for two days. Turning is required because the grapes rise to the top of the tub to form this mat of pulp and the juice is at the bottom. The wine needs to be mixed up so it all ferments evenly. It’s a chore but a messy bit of fun.
We then hopped into the Fiat Panda with Sebass, as Andrew called him, to go off and harvest some walnuts. Patti shared the passenger seat with Vikka the black cocker and Andrew and I sat backwards in the hatchback complete with some scattered hand tools, old gloves for cushioning, a gas soaked rope, a water jug and 2 big baskets for the nuts. We headed through the windy streets of town and up a steep mountain on a mix of cobble and dirt roads at near rally speeds with our feet hanging out of the open hatchback to let some fresh non-emission controlled tail pipe fumes into the car. When we arrived Sebastiano pulled up onto a grassy leveled pasture under the shade of a walnut loaded tree. We piled out of the car, dizzy from the blur of riding backwards, to take in an incredible view from the site which was just below the vertical granite bluffs looking all the way down to the sea. It was about 68 degrees with sunshine, a faint breeze, a few misty clouds hanging half way up on the mountain and wild fennel & mint growing everywhere. Andrew scaled the tree to shake some nuts loose and we filled our baskets to the sound of wild donkey kongs echoing in the cliffs and jingling herds of bell collared goats somewhere down valley.
After lunch on the fourth story open air sunset terrace back at the palace we sat and ate American grapes for dessert. They are like concord grapes you just squeeze on the skin, and the meat, sweet juices and seeds pop into you mouth. We had a little siesta up in our room for an hour or so between 2 and 3 pm and then Sebass suggested we all go wild mushroom hunting. We followed him in our Skoda around to the back side of the mountain and up this gnarly rock road to his favorite childhood hunting grounds. We each grabbed a basket and a hiking cane and headed down the steep wooded slopes. It was a rich mix of biodiversity with pines and oaks evenly spaced over lush grasses, ferns, wild herbs and giant hidden mushrooms. We later found out that it’s not unheard of to run into the highly poisonous Viper snake in this region of Italy - Greaaat. After an hour of hiking around we had filled our baskets with probably 8 or 10 different varieties of edible mushrooms. Sebass would rummage through our findings and toss out the toxic species and praise us with an approving chuckle and a “Well Done” if we had found any of the rarer varieties – some so prized that they cost as much as $75 an entrée in a good restaurant in Rome. Dinner was gonna be special tonight! Actually we had mushrooms on pizza, in pasta, in soup, in salads, in the risotto and of course just sautéed pretty much every night all week. Fine with us!
The next day, after turning the wine and feeding the pigs, we harvested some organic tomatoes and tilled & weeded a 25’ by 50’ section of the garden with hand tools to prepare it for planting later in the week - a good little morning’s workout. Midweek Patti and Stefan boiled some jars and prepared a hug vat of fig jam for canning in the basement. Of course I had to sample a ladle or two of the sugary slurry straight from the caldron before they were allowed to can.
About every other night Fiama would have friends or neighbors from the local village over to join us for dinner – always a formal occasion with impeccable place settings accompanied by a table center piece arrangement of flowers, garden fruits or vegetables and some of our beautiful mushrooms. We normally didn’t sit for dinner until about 9 pm and the mostly Italian conversation would get louder in direct proportion to the amount of wine that was poured - lasting until 11 pm at times. One evening we were pleasantly surprised with an impromptu concert. Fiamma’s guest was a professional musician and he brought his guitar with him so after dinner we congregated in the kitchen and he and Andrew who played the banjo, put on a two hour jam session for us all.
Waiting for dinner one night Patti and I were lounging around upstairs, Patti reading and I practicing my guitar, when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a small shadow streak across the wall in dim light. We looked at each other at the same time and both said – what was that? Then, as it made another pass, we both clearly saw what it was and screeched in unison – It’s A Bat! Patti immediately ducked under her pillow and I began to nervously dance around the room unsuccessfully wielding my guitar as a bat swatter. After stirring us around for a minute or two it finally disappeared into the adjoining office and I quickly closed the double doors. As I said, we were in a 400 year old structure.
At diner that night we made plans with Andrew to join us for a Saturday road trip to the Pompeii ruins. The 2 hr. drive along the Italian coastal back roads was great. We stopped along the way at a cheese shop, in the middle of the Buffalo Mozzarella producing region of Campana, to get some fresh Buffalo Mozzarella cheese balls. We didn’t even get back to the car before we opened up the package and passed it around scarfing it down as we stood in the parking lot. Incredible stuff.
Pompeii was a wonderful look back in time. What an amazing city and lifestyle it must have been. With Mt.Vesuvius towering overhead, we walked along Pompeii’s 2000 year old cobbled stone streets in and out of palatial residences with colorfully plastered walls, marble floors and courtyard fountains and strolled up to what used to be a street side wine bar with wine vases and stone tile mosaic counter tops still intact. The wonder of what it must have been like?
We were having a lot of fun on the farm and the surrounding area so far but Sebastiano had a sizable chore in store for us the last week we were there. We would now start to earn our room and board by constructing a hog wire fence around the walnut tree pasture. Sebastiano planned to build a new pinot noir vineyard and he needed to keep out the free-range goats. After a twenty minute argument between Sebass and his farm manager Savalio as to how to construct the fence, Sebass strung a rope along the proposed alignment, took two paces to show me the spacing and handed me a 15 pound straight iron digging bar to make the post holes. Sebass would cut the salvaged tree limb fence post to length, I would dig the holes, Andrew would pound the post in and Patti and Stefan would be the wire fence stringers and tiers. The soil was moist and loose, easy for digging in, and had just the right amount of gravel in it to make the post sturdy. It was tough work but it actually went much quicker and easier than expected. Unfortunately Andrew and Stefan were leaving; so Roby and I had to finish the job by ourselves. Sebass decided he wanted to change the alignment requiring us to remove a portion of the fence and redo it. Four days later we completed 500 linear feet of fence.
Feeling bad about the extra hours he had us work, Sebass gave us an early reprieve the next day. Roby and I took a drive and hung out at the beach on the Mediterranean Sea. Nestled at the base of the Cilento National Forest the beach creeps out from the primitive sand dunes and native vegetation. The sand is more gravel-like with a rocky entrance into the water. Although not as warm as on the Spanish coast, we braved the waves. Trying to absorb the balance of the sun, we hung out on our make-shift beach blanket, but as the sun was going down, Patti started shivering. She immediately ran back to the car and changed into her clothes. We spent the remaining portion of the evening enjoying the dark reddish-orange sunset.
We realized we had been in San Giovanni for almost a week and had hiked up to the mountain above the village and driven to the neighboring villages of Sapri and Scario, but we hadn’t walked up through the heart of the old village centro of San Giovanni even though it was located within walking distance from the house. Our next free afternoon Patti and I ventured up the steep streets to find a beautiful historic centre that is a labyrinth of little alley-ways and lanes that wind and intersect around the 2 ancient town squares: Piazza Teodoro Gaza, where you can find the Chiesa Madre (church) dating back to the 15th century, and Piazza San Gaetano. The narrow steep passage ways which were barely wide enough to walk led you through 3 to 5 story medieval stone and stucco structures terraced up the hillside. Each home had its own personality with mottled layers of paint, tons of hand crafted stone, and wood and iron details. The village as most of the Italian towns was initially built thousands of years ago as a high density community to protect itself from neighboring warriors but also for the efficiency of shared resources. What a concept!
Our final days were spent tending to the wine. After letting the wine rest during the full moon phase, we completed one last “turn” and checked the sugar content. The gravitational pull from the moon did its job and extracted the rest of the juices from the pulp. It was time to make the wine!! Savalio, the expert winemaker and winedrinker, instructed us on the procedure. In short form: you scoop out the fermented grape pulp from the hug vats with a 5 gallon bucket and dump it into the wine press. Another person compresses the grapes in the press until it is full. Then you manually crank the press hundreds of times to get all the juices out which would be collecting in small plastic buckets under the spickets of the press. Each time these buckets filled up, you would pump the wine juice into the curing barrels, and keep going until no juice is left in the press. Any remaining juice in the vats, after all pulp was removed, would be pumped directly into the curing barrel. Unfortunately during the process, Savalio had to leave and Roby and I were left on our own. Thankfully Maria, Savalio’s wife and her mother came over and helped us pack and press the wine. To make the afternoon more enjoyable all four of us sampled the wine frequently straight from the press spout for quality control. A few minor mechanical difficulties set us back a bit making it two 10 hour workdays. The night before we left, we put the finishing touches on over 1500 liters of Pinot Noir and set it to rest for a few weeks before it was to be bottled.
Roby and Patti professional wine-makers.
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