After spending two lovely days in Verona I was a believer that Romeo and Juliet did live there as the sweetness of the atmosphere of the city was a powerful reality.  So, we set off for a farm house, part of which was built in the 12th century, in the hills above Montecatini Terme and located in Borgo A Buggiano.

The road leading to Bed and Breakfast was extremely narrow and winding.  We all marveled at Jeff’s expertise in negotiating this, what seemed to be treacherous path, with ease and abandon.  When we arrived we were greeted by the owner Francesca.  We soon became accustomed to Francesca’s vibrant personality.  While we were there she fixed both breakfasts and dinners, doctored sick kittens, and midwifed baby chicks.  After what seemed like some very long days I could hear her and her son traveling among the various animal pens, one housing a very angry goose, after midnight.  The house was magnificent with its’ aged architecture.  

Our first night Francesca invited us to a festival being held in Montecatini Terme.  She not only accompanied us but rode with us and drove the car.  When we arrived we were joined by her husband Leonardo who manages a hotel in Montecatini Terme.  What an enjoyable time eating sausage and ribs and drinking a large glass of delicious red wine which only cost three euros.  At the conclusion of our meal Francesca asked if we wanted an Italian pastry and coffee.  She and Leonardo insisted on buying them for us.  As Leonardo was setting at one end of the table and I at the opposite end I gestured my appreciation to him and he responded as if we had known each other for some time.  I was reminded of many of the happy scenes I had watched on television and in movies of Italians gesturing and enjoying each others company.  Montecatini Terme Festival

The next morning after a lovely Tuscan breakfast we set off Luca but on the way found Collodi.  You may recall that the author Carlo Collodi penned the old children’s favorite Pinocchio.  The authors’ actual name was Lorenzini while he adopted the name of the town as his pen name.  Lorenzini was better known as a political writer during the earlier days of his career.  Collodi is a picturesque town with reminders of its’ most famous puppet everywhere.  Collodi

I neglected to mention the primary reason we stayed close to Montecatini Terme was because of the outstanding Spa located in the town.  Margo and Jeff had regaled us with stories of the wonderful relaxing effects that were inherent in a day spent at the Spa.  Now I probably should say at this point that I have never been to a Spa.  Prior to Montecatini I had never had a massage or been to a chiropractor.  So the first thing we did at our arrival and after lunch was to go to the Spa to sign up for our massages.  Jeff and Margo, being veterans, knew what they wanted and endeavored to explain to me what I could expect.  Jeff counseled me that I would need a pair of trunks to wear during the massage…and I thought this will be all right.

Saturday was Spa day.  First I accompanied our friends to an inhalation treatment which consisted of putting a cup over your mouth and nose and breathing in the healing vapors of the Montecatini mineral water.  At the completion of the treatment I thought I was perhaps breathing a little better.  Success!  Then we had lunch and it was back early for Jeff and I for a swim in a wonderful heated pool and some great whirlpools that I found throughly enjoyable.  Then the sauna…I had forgotten how hot saunas are.  But having been in a sauna before I was not surprised.  Again, a nice relaxing experience.  Then a short wait in a pleasant setting, relaxed, refreshed, and ready for a nice first time massage…that I vaguely recalled may have derived from India and involved oil.

As the lady who was going to perform the massage led me to the massage room I asked her how she was doing to which she replied that I was probably doing better than her.  When we entered the room she instructed me rather sternly that I could not wear the swimming trunks, that I felt extremely comfortable with, and then said that I must wear bikini.  When I protested that my friend, who had been at the Spa numerous times, assured me that I could wear my trunks she shook her head no and again said bikini.  After the change I reflected how I had arrived at this extremely embarrassing moment.  When my masseuse returned she had me set in front of a full length mirror and told me to relax…which I could not think of any possible circumstance that could be more relaxing… and I noticed my resemblance to Buddah …and then she had me shut my eyes and proceeded to pour oil on my head.  After the ritual had concluded Jeff told me that what I received was not the massages he was accustomed to and that I should try one in the states where I could keep my trunks on.

The town of Pisa is an interesting place.  It is located at the mouth of the River Arno which is on the Tyrrhenian Sea.  Of course our quest was for the Tower.  The Leaning Tower is the bell tower of the cities’ cathedral.  As we walked and walked each time we stopped to assure ourselves of the correct path the reply would be “the tower” to which we would shake our heads and proceed.  When we arrived I was amazed to see how much the tower does lean.  People were touring it and you could see them waking around close to the top of the structure…at a terrible slant.

We traveled to Lucca.  The uniqueness of this city was its’ intact Renaissance city walls.  We walked on the walls which had quite a wide walking and biking area.

The supreme beauty of Tuscany cannot be over emphasized.  As we drove up the steep winding trails to the Tuscan Mountain town of Montecatini Alto the view was like none that I have seen.  This artist was along the road leading back to our car.

Tuscany

On Sunday morning at our mountain retreat we chose to simply enjoy the surroundings for the morning.  The majesty of the mountainous landscape coupled with the peaceful atmosphere was a welcome respite from our busy holiday.

As we boarded the water taxi for the return trip to Marco Polo Airport I thought how fortunate we were to obtain seats as most of the vehicle was standing room only.  To my amazement in short order a water taxi pulled alongside us and I discovered that we were not on our conveyance at all but a floating waiting area.  Upon arriving at the airport we rented our second car of the journey and I was so pleased to see that it had more than enough leg room.  We began what was little more than an hour’s ride to Verona, Romeo and Juliet’s home.

Our hotel, the Aurora, was in the heart of the city.  The desk clerk who checked us in spoke immaculate english and had a constant infectious smile.  She cautioned us to stick with the trattorias that she recommended to us as many eateries in Verona serve horse meat which is a local speciality.  It is called cavallo.  Indeed we found not only is horse a delicacy in Verona, and in Venice, but also donkey.  When I first heard the waiter of a trattoria that we had almost decided to enter,  describing some of his favorite dishes I noticed he spoke passionately about serving donkey.  He went on to say that this dish was very normal in Verona and that he preferred it raw with a little olive oil and lemon juice.  While we were in Verona we ate primarily pizza and pasta.

 One of the great themes of Verona is Romeo and Juliet.  William Shakespeare’s sonnet of the tragic lovers takes place in the old Italian City and is believed to have been written between 1591 to 1595.  It was first published in 1597.  Juliet’s house is the place to go and so we went.  The Casa di Giulietta is an example of the compelling power of the tragic love story.  The house was owned by the Capello family.  Juliet’s family name was Capulet.  The house was built in the thirteenth century but the balcony was added in the twentieth century.  It is not known if Romeo and Juliet were but figments of Shakespeare’s imagination.  Nevertheless the story’s power is only reenforced by a visit to the house.  While we were touring the house I noticed a young woman dressed as Juliet who was inspecting the premises as well.  It appeared her mother was accompanying her and taking her picture throughout the residence and the balcony.  The look of awe and wonder on this lady’s face expressed to me more than any history book the impact of the tragic love story.  A bronze of Juliet in the courtyard  of her home.  

We also visited Juliet’s Tomb.  I was highly impressed with the beauty of the garden surrounding the entrance to the sarcophagus.  The somber splendor of the cool mausoleum caused me to reflect on the possibility that remains of Juliet might be housed within.  Margo began speaking with a gentleman guarding the area.  As they spoke in Italian I heard them laughing  with a knowing look upon their faces.  When they concluded their conversation I inquired of Margo what the man had said.  She replied that he had told her that no one was buried in the Tomb…tourists.  

  The Verona Arena located in Piazza Bra is a fascinating structure reminiscent of the Colosseum in Rome.  It was built in the first century by the Flavian emperors and gladiators fought there for nearly four hundred years.  Emperor Honorius stopped gladiator games in 404 AD.  After this the Amphitheatre stood empty for centuries.  The dark catacombs of the Arena were referred to as the labyrinth of the devil by the people of Verona.  From June until August you can enjoy opera nightly in the structure during the opera festival.  

After dinner the first evening that we were in Verona we enjoyed a leisurely visit on a terrace connected to the hotel.  The surroundings were very beautiful and a live band was performing in the city square.  It was then that I realized what a historic exquisite city Verona truly was.  There is a relaxed atmosphere that is rare in a city of that size.  

Our last dinner is Verona was at a trattoria that was housed both inside and in the courtyard of what appeared to be an office/apartment building.  Soon after we sat down it began to rain…first slowly and then an Italian downpour.  As I became partially wet, we were actually under some of the building, I thought what a nice experience in a beautiful city with dear friends of many years and enjoying delicious lamb…?  

So the time came that we must leave Nice for the next phase of our adventure Venice.  We drove our rental car the short distance to Aeroport Nice Cote d’ Azur and were greeted by a cacophony of honking horns.  The Nice cab drivers were conducting a work slow down and expressing their frustrations audibly.  Jeff had booked our flight to Venice on easyjet which he often flies on his numerous trips around Europe.  He had even been able to secure us front row seats with lovely leg room.  When we arrived at Marco Polo airport we walked to the boat docks to board our water taxi which took almost an hour to reach Venice.

When we arrived at the Grand Canal boat docks we soon were united with our guide to our apartment and her dog Charlie.  As we walked the narrow streets I noticed that we crossed more than one bridge.  Venice is composed of 118 islands.  When you walk over one of the bridges you are traveling from one island to another and the canals of the lagoon that Venice sets upon are the separations between the islands.  The islands are not all at the same level in the lagoon as is illustrated, if you care to count, by the uneven number of stairs on one side of a bridge as opposed to the other.  We soon came upon the grand wooden door to our apartment with its’ most elaborate door handle of a partially nude woman.

Our apartment was overlooking one of the canals and directly next to one of the many bridges which was heavily used.  We were also near to the Piazza San Marco which is the primary public square of Venice.  The busy urban space just outside our windows would be called a campi or field as there is only one Piazza in Venice.  

The Doge’s Palace is located in Piazza San Marco.  It was the residence of the Doge of Venice who was the authority of the Republic of Venice.  It has been a museum since 1923.  It is a uniquely beautiful building with the oldest parts of it overlooking the lagoon and dating back to the 14th century.  

I notice as we toured our new home for the next five days that one of the closets had water tight boots from children’s size to large.  It is then that I realized that what I had heard about Venice flooding from time to time might be more frequent than I had known.  Venice floods in part over 200 days per year and the Piazza San Marco is the first to flood due to being the lowest parcel of land in the city.

We took our lunch at a trattoria very near our apartment where the waiter told us that his mother and father lived in Pennsylvania and that he visited them whenever he could.  Shortly after this Jeff was looking wan.  He had mentioned to me that morning that he was feeling poorly and that his lungs were rattling and I listened and found his prognosis correct.  From here it went down hill for my friend as he got progressively sicker for the remainder of our stay in Venice.  After three trips to the Pharmacy and Doctor Brooks remedies he finally started getting better.

During the first of our stay, Jeff was still with us, we entered a small shop to encounter a very sweet shop keeper who told us she had just opened her new establishment.  Have you ever met someone that was just so nice that you just had to buy something from them?  That was this lady.  She gave Margo and Mary Jane a handmade leather carrying case before we had purchased anything and was so overcome at the conclusion of our visit  she hugged each of us.  We now have a harlequin painting in our foyer.

I could not help but notice from the first morning until the last how different from what I was accustomed to life in Venice was.  It was extremely crowded with tourists and residents, although the population of Venice has been falling from 90 thousand to todays 60 thousand, and there were many men pushing or pulling large carts full of various products that was both being delivered to stores as well as boats.  These men were constantly calling for the crowd to give way for them and it was somewhat disconcerting as they were often right behind me before I heard their pleas.  Also all of Venice is prepared for the next flood.  We noticed in the entrance foyer to our apartment house that water had come in the door facing the canal.  Throughout the city the shops have water blockades for their doors and boots at the ready.

One afternoon I was setting outside our apartment in the campi watching the most interesting component of any holiday…the people.  As I smoked an Italian cigar, yes I have enjoyed the occasional cigar since I was 10 years old, a group of young men approached me with a look of mission in their eyes.  One began to speak and asked me if I spoke english to which I replied that I did.  He went on to explain that they were filming people for a promo they were doing for the Venice Stage.  He said that I was very beautiful and would I consent to being filmed.  Having never been referred to as very beautiful…I could not help but say yes.  My moment of stardom is less than one second in the attached film.

During our quest for the perfect meal we happened on a trattoria less than a block from our apartment.  We had the most delightful waiter, Mr. Bean Junior, we called him due to his uncanny resemblance to Rowan Atkinson’s popular British character, who brought us the most delicious pasta dishes that it had been our privilege to partake of in Venice.  You see there is more to the story in that a night or two before we had taken dinner at a highly recommended trattoria and ordered the signature dish of lobster and pasta.  When the feast arrived there was the lobster resting comfortably on top of the pasta…shell and all.  Needless to say we were taken aback.  Thus I spoke to the owner of Mr. Bean Junior’s trattoria to ensure that the shell would be removed from the lobster and pasta that we were going to try again at their establishment.  Language barriers being what they are the owner asked me at one point if I wanted lobster shell with my dish to which I replied with a hearty no.  Mary Jane and I enjoyed the food, wine, and service so much that we returned for dinner the next two evenings.

One evening we took the Original Venice Ghost Walking Tour.  This was a ninety minute tour of the dark side of Venice.  Among the stories were that of a young woman who entered a monastery in Venice disguised as a man.  She went on to serve many years believed to be a man until a young woman accused the female monk of rape.  Rather than break her promise to her father that she would never reveal her true identity she was hung for a crime that was impossible for her to commit.

Another story is that of a young husband and wife who during a domestic dispute the husband beheaded his wife.  Seeking absolution for his sins he gathered both the body and the head and took them to Rome for the Pope’s forgiveness.  Receiving none he returned to Venice and cast the head off of the boat dock near their dwelling.  It is said that if you peer off the dock…at times you can still see the head floating.  We looked…and I thought I saw something.

The Gondola ride that Mary Jane and I took was extremely enjoyable.  The first thing we noticed as that we had an entirely different perspective of Venice from the view point of the gondola.  First of all the buildings aligning both sides of the canals are setting in water.  Several feet of water.  That in it self is incredible.  The canals are narrow and have a lot of boat traffic on them.  According to our Gondolier many of the beautiful old buildings that we passed are vacant and more are becoming so on a regular basis.  This is due to the high cost of purchasing an apartment in Venice and then you have only begun with expenses because of the high cost of upkeep and or remodeling of extremely old structures that set in water.  The actor Johnny Depp has purchased an entire building on the Grand Canal for 12 million dollars.

Venice is like no city that I have ever seen.  It is breathtaking in its’ sublime beauty and distinctive setting.  Outside of our apartment building setting on the ascending steps of the bridge adjacent to us was a beggar with the face of an angel.  Each time we either came or left the dwelling he greeted us with his  beatific smile.  Jeff took him food for which he was not only grateful but began eating immediately.  Often I wonder if the grandest test in this life is how we treat those less fortunate than ourselves.

So, after our adventures in Venice, including Jeff and I enjoying watching English Comics on his I Pad for over an hour one late evening, we set out on our Mystery Tour of Italy.  You will not want to miss it.

Mary Jane and I have just returned from the adventure of our lives.  We spent a month in Europe with our dear friends Margo and Jeff Lestz.  The Lestz live in Nice, France as well as Surrey in England.  After a significant flight across the Atlantic we finally arrived at Aeoport Nice Cote d’ Azur to soon be greeted by Margo’s wonderful smile.  As we departed from a short bus ride to walk the remainder of the distance to their apartment there was Jeff overlooking our arrival from one of the balconies of their beautiful apartment.  

Soon after my short recuperative nap of ten hours I was ready for adventure.  It is somewhat difficult to categorize the many sites, smells, and tastes that we encountered and so I will highlight a few from each stop on our odyssey.  

The Mediterranean sea is unparalleled in its’ breathtaking beauty.  All who are near it, are drawn to it with a magnetic pull that is compelling.  We observed every one from young lovers getting married to the  homeless equally enjoying its’ comforts.  We walked along the pebble beaches several times and wondered about the stories the sea could tell.  Jeff and I throughly enjoyed reminiscing over old adventures and times gone by and it seemed that instead of over forty years of knowing each other we were magically transported back to the beginnings when we were both teenagers.  One evening we had dinner at a lovely restaurant on the beach.  I could not help but notice the table next to ours that was full of a jubilant French family who appeared might be enjoying a family reunion.  They subsequently ate, took turns swimming, and huddled for family pictures with a freedom and joy that was a refreshing change.  

The Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild overlooking the Bay of Villefranche was a fascinating study in the lives of the ultra rich.  The home of the Baroness de Rothschild has nine gardens and a magnificent fountain thats’ spray was set to music.  The house is flamingo colored and illustrates the lives of the wealthy during the Belle Epoque.  The Baroness had a very interesting collection of porcelain that included an orchestra of monkeys that was quite unusual.  Among her animals, during her life, was a monkey in residence.

   Villa Santos Sospir owned by Jean Cocteau’s friend, Francine Weisweiller, located at Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, is one of the most unique homes that I have toured.  Cocteau often returned to the home from 1950 until his death in 1963.  The originality of this home was that Cocteau drew and painted on almost every wall.  Jean Cocteau was famous novelist, poet, artist, and filmmaker.  It is said that Francine invited Cocteau to the Villa for dinner in 1950 and that he stayed for thirteen years.  Cocteau made a short film about his artistic borrowed abode that can be found at: http://youtu.be/PVDI7SBv9RI .  

I left the United States without my hat.  When I arrived in Nice…in the Mediterranean I quickly noticed how hot my head became and subsequently began searching for a covering.  Being a fan of straw hats, I have three of them, I could not help but take note of Margo’s great straw hat and especially its’ high quality straw.  The search began for a hat like Margo’s and continued to no avail for three hot days.  Finally one morning Mary Jane and I were exploring the quaint diverse shops of Nice when we happen upon a hat store…having nothing but hats.  Wa La I leave with a wonderful cloth hat that has no straw in its’ composition.  Mary Jane finds a lovely french hat, that I am told makes her look like the literary character Madeline, but she must think about the purchase over lunch.  During lunch she decided to look further.  So, we begin our quest again and quickly find another hat store.  As we peer into the door we notice the same people that were in the first store are now here  as well…or as Mary Jane said it must be fate.  She now has a new french hat.

One of the most powerful sensory stimuli I received while I in Nice was the location of Margo and Jeff’s apartment.  It is not only a minute or so away from the Mediterranean Sea but it is also in the middle of where the action is.  It is directly above several restaurants and the continual laughing and talking and life I found  refreshing and mentally stimulating.  I even enjoyed hearing one of the restaurants below washing their dishes late at night especially after I realized that I need not feel guilty of not helping Margo and Jeff with what I thought was their late night dish washing efforts.  

We drove to Grasse, France which is famous for perfume manufacturing.  It is known as the perfume capital of the world.  We went to the Fragonard perfume factory to observe how their perfume is produced and then to purchase some.  During the tour our guide spoke of the rare talent in the perfume industry of being able to distinguish between the thousands of scents used to produce exotic French perfume, this person is known as the Nose.  There are very few of these olfactory gifted individuals world wide.  The young woman who both performed the tour and sold the perfume was a delight and a truly dedicated perfume professional.

Margo graciously invited us to attend a meeting her and other authors that was conducted by Patricia Sands.  The group was diverse with Canadian, French, English, and American guests and extremely warm and collegial with Patricia taking time to speak with each of us and make us welcome.  I was impressed with Margo’s establishment as a member of the literary scene in Nice.  I left the meeting with a renewed desire to write and self publish after hearing of Patricia’s success in doing so as she told us that one of her books has sold over twenty-six thousand copies.

As the Nice adventure of our trip concluded we prepared for our flight to Venice and excitement and bronchitis.  Stay tuned.

Laugh the Day Away.