Daytripping & Sipping

Owen had a field trip Thursday of this week, so Fred and I spent the day doing what Owen likes least: visiting small non-touristy towns, walking around photographing, then separating for Fred to draw and me to work in a café with wifi. Owen prefers to see the places more well-known and considered by the masses as worthy of seeing.  I like both, frankly, but it’s a whole lot cheaper to work in a café in Vignanello than it is in Florence.

The three towns were Canepina, Vallerano and Vignanello, all about 30 to 40 minutes away from where we live. Surprisingly, in our nine years here we’d not yet explored these three charming towns. Fred found them. The first was small and very quiet. Then again, the whole country is quiet between noon and four, except for the major cities. All you hear is knives and forks being used or washed, and then soap operas. Loud. Wafting out of the shuttered windows. Cats are the only life on the streets.  

So lucky—he popped out just when I clicked :)

After scouting around Canepina, shooting photos and looking for sketchable scenes for Fred, I settled into my café. It wasn’t too special. A little dark and “modern,” so not especially aesthetically pleasing, but a very nice proprietor. We met at the car in an hour and a half and went on to Vallerano. Walked, shot, and settled me down into a café. It had seemed perfect when we first arrived and asked about wifi. They said yes, they had it, and I said I’ll be back in 20 minutes. When I went back there were now 12 men at tables outside playing cards. Someone like me is a real spectacle—an unfamiliar face,  a camera, a huge bag with my laptop, a stupid hat that immediately shouts “TOURIST” but I really need it because of the sun. You can’t put sunblock on your scalp! I walked by them,  through the beaded curtain, into the café and sat with two men and the proprietor with a cappuccino and a water (one to perk me up, the other so I didn’t melt). They watched the Tour de France, I worked, and all we said to each other was “Caldo! Troppo caldo!” 

At one point a man with a little short beagle type dog walked in and the dog made a beeline for me, as if he had seem me come in earlier and made a mental note, "There's ONE new person in there I have to meet." I gave him tons of attention and he sat down on my bag and settled in for some love. 

The last town, Vignanello, was my favorite. It was the biggest and, because it was 5 pm at this point, it was coming to life. After the walk, Fred and I had a drink, as is our custom on these days of sketching and working. The place was called the Modern Café and had a pretty big outdoor area with an amazing view of the surroundingcountryside, as this town is on a hill. The place was ALL MEN PLAYING CARDS. About six tables, four or five to a table. And not one of them wasn’t wearing blue. Blue stripes, blue checks, blue plaid, solid blue. And none of them were eating or drinking. I asked the proprietor, “Dove sono tutti le donne?" My attempt at "Where are all the women?” And he laughed and gave me an answer which I couldn’t understand. DAMN. Fred thinks they were at church. We’ve seen that a lot. The women go to church, while the men hang out and chat till they come out.

Finally some ordering was done by folks other than us. One guy came out with two ice cream cones. One for him, and one for his dog. Have I mentioned Italians love their dogs? He fed the cone to the dog, twisting the cone so the dog could lick it evenly all around. Couldn’t have been more considerate if he were doing this for a child. It was pretty cute, and everyone around him thought so too.  Another guy later did the same for his dog—bought him a cone—but just let him chomp down on it in one bite. To each his own.

After our drink, I got the wifi password and Fred left to draw. 

That's my big-ass white car on the end.
I spend 11 months of the year driving a Mini Cooper in the
 land of the biggest cars on earth, and the 12th month
driving a freaking Fiat SUV on the most narrow streets ever.

Fred said that baby cat doesn't look anything like his mother.

But just a few blocks away might be the genetic link!

Nothing but the sounds of dinner dishes and soap operas.

The Modern Café

Men in Blue

Wanderlust

Owen and I spend our afternoons in cafés. I work and Owen does homework for the class he’s taking about Etruscan art. Last year was the travel writing course. Interestingly, or maybe not, they're the same two courses Henry chose—clearly deliberate choices to avoid the two classes that have to do with drawing and painting. Hmmm…..

I got this shot of Monday's café off the internet,
as I didn't take any shots myself.

Monday’s café was the one we spent most of our time in last year, so that was our first stop. But this day it was filled with American students, not “ours,” but from some other program. And not the usual opera group that comes to Viterbo this time every year. You can tell this wasn’t that group because nobody sang. The opera kids seem to have no control over singing publicly. 

These kids, although separately by a floor—Owen and I tuck into a little tiny loft space—drove me nuts. They were all attached to iPads, iPhones or laptops, and spent four hours in this café, talking about nothing other than where they were going next.

“I’m meeting a friend in London and we’re going to Dublin together.”

“I really wanna go to Switzerland. Or Germany. Or [shrug] anywhere.”

I wanted to jump down from the loft and say,  “You’re in ITALY NOW. How about going THERE???”

As I write this, I remember my junior year in Denmark when most weekends were spent on a train to points south of Scandinavia, and my sweet host mother asking, “What about the rest of Denmark?”  

This is Gran Caffé Schenardi where we went the next day.
Elegant and regal, it's been a meeting place in Viterbo since 1818.

Practicing the Transport of la Macchina di Santa Rosa

The most exciting thing that happens in Viterbo happens in September when we’re not here. It’s called the Transport of the Macchina di Santa Rosa. It’s a ritual to honor the patron saint of Viterbo, Santa Rosa, which began in 1258. A huge four-story-tall monument is built and carried by 100 male porters (called facchini di Santa Rosa) from one end of town to the other—about a mile. Every five years a new monument is built, and the current one is retired. Right now, the last one is at an “Expo” in Milan. The Viterbese are understandably very proud of this.

The Macchina from 2007. They light it up
and shut off all the surrounding lights in town.

Fred was drawing yesterday and settled down in a part of town much closer than he’d intended to because he stumbled upon the monument being assembled. Our wine-store-owner-neighbor bumped into Fred and told him that tomorrow morning at 6 am would be a rehearsal for the September 3 procession and that we MUST witness it. And that we did. (This neighbor is now fluent in English, having studied all year with a local Scottish guy he hired for private lessons. “Suddenly I’m English!” he said to me.)

This morning we got up earlier than we ever have in Viterbo, not counting the days we leave and have to get on a bus to the airport. It was not typically quiet and eerie, though, because as we neared the square, we could see and hear the townspeople gathering near the structure.

Some onlookers aren't quite as enthralled as others.

La Macchina—this is just a partially-assembled version.
The final one will have candles, and who knows what other embellishments.

We waited for quite some time, 6 am not really meaning 6 am in Italy, but were rewarded. A guy on a speaker—the capofacchini, “head of the guys carrying the macchina”—told everyone “We’re beginning,” and all the facchini in their matching white tee-shirts, black work boots and various “padding” apparatus took their assigned spots under and around the monument. It’s HUGE, towering over the tops of the three-story buildings surrounding it. The actual specs require it to be no higher than 28 meters (30 yards), no heavier than 5 tonnes (11,000 pounds), and no wider than 4.3 meters (5 yards). Until a few decades ago, the Macchina di Santa Rosa was made of paper mache, but now it is made of steel, aluminum and fiber glass to be lighter and fire resistant.

A word about the facchini. To be selected as a facchino, one must pass a test of strength by carrying a 160 pound box on his shoulders for at least 70 meters without stopping. It is a great honor to be selected. Before the start, they receive a special blessing and, for most of the route, they walk without any visual aid, directed by the capofacchini and guides posted at the four corners of the machine.

The facchini then lifted the macchina off the saw horses it rested on, only by about a foot, and made their way down the hill to the Fontana Grande, about four blocks away, all downhill. The guy with the speaker repeated “Fare! Fare! Fare!” which means to make or do. Kind of like “hut” to a soldier. The monument bobbed slightly (and tilted a tiny bit) as it slowly glided down the narrow street.

Ropes lined the street, presumably to keep us onlookers off the street and on the sidewalk, but nobody paid any attention and the street filled with spectators following the bobbing tower. At the Fontana, the facchini rested and had a cigarette and a swig from the fountain. For about 45 minutes. Much fun people- (and dog-) watching. (The Italians love their dogs.)

This facchino has a leather shoulder pad on his right shoulder with the number 8.
This means he will be on the left side of the macchina, as it will rest on his right shoulder.
The guys in the middle, underneath the structure, have a hooded neck/back pad, and a rope
they hold in their mouth, like the rein of a horse.

She's all set with him.

An ambulance is always on standby because in 1790 the machine fell during the move. In 1801, the cries of a spectator robbed of her jewels by some pickpockets in the Piazza Fontana Grande panicked some cavalry horses. Twenty-two people in the crowd died in the ensuing confusion and later that night the machine caught fire in Piazza delle Erbe. In 1814 tilted backwards and a few porters died.

When they started up again, we stayed and watch them go, rather than follow. They went about equidistant from where we’d come to where we were, then stopped, turned the statue around—a complete 360—and then another 90, till they were taking a right down the next street, after which they disappeared and we went home to bed.Someone posted a video of the whole event and it can be seen here. Here's the url:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEcweFmNDc8

Planes, Phones & Automobiles

We’re back at our second home—Viterbo, Italy. In tact, but a little hotter than usual. Good for the grapes. Humans, not so much. 

The view from our balcony

The thing about traveling is you become all too aware of your vulnerabilities. My biggest one is when things don’t work as they should. We have phones, iPads and laptops we like to make internet- and/or text-ready. Right away. This can be done in an hour or so at a phone store, usually, but the trick is getting there when they’re open, and getting there with enough time to wait in the line before they’re closed again. I’d say 90% of the people who come to the phone store ask a question and are responded to with a shake of the head “no,” after which they leave, seemingly having expected that what they wanted to do would be not-doable. Sometimes they’re clever enough to politely interrupt the line, ask the question, and be done with it.

We arrived without a hitch. Quick flight to Paris. As usual, too short for me. Didn’t even finish my movie. A not-too-long layover, and then on to Rome. Lots of customs lines in Paris, so none in Rome, which was nice. We took the bus together up to Viterbo, settled into our apartments and met at 8:30 for dinner. This all went fine. Same place as usual for dinner, but it was especially good this time, possibly because they felt bad for giving away our table for 25, causing us a half hour delay. But also possibly because of our beautiful new guide, Carlotta. When we were first introduced to her via Facebook, I said to one of the faculty, I know one Lynch who’ll have a crush this summer. Maybe two, actually. Hell, all three of us will!!!   She’s great—in real life, too, not just Facebook.

 A welcome gift from Carlotta, our guide for the month.

 A water-stocked fridge, also from Carlotta.
The tap water contains arsenic, so this is truly a life-saving touch.

The Piazza has a carnival ride in it right now.

Day Two is when I get the car, charge the technology, and do the big shop. The first two parts went (seemingly) swimmingly. I was a little concerned when the car they gave us was a huge Fiat 500. Like jumbo shrimp, it sounds like an oxymoron, but for someone who drives a Mini Cooper at home, this was a little unwieldy. It’s truck-like, in that it’s a big step up to get into the driver’s seat, and to rest my arm out the window, I have to stretch for the tip of my elbow to reach the door. Not the restful effect I’m looking for.

Owen, Kelly (Fred’s co-teacher) and I did the big shop together. Kelly’s first Iper Coop experience (a very large department/grocery store). She was appropriately awed. Coming out of the parking lot, I couldn’t see very well out the back window of the car and hit a pole. Hard. So much for what a deal we got on the car rental this year because of how low the euro is. I have no info on how much this will cost me. It might be nothing (due to my credit card’s insurance); it might be $600 (the fee they already put on my car in case of damage); it might be more. Nobody was hurt, and the damage does not effect the car’s ability to operate. What’s done is done. We will speak of this no more.

Huge bread from Iper Coop! Bruschetta bread!

We will also speak of this no more: I have been back to the phone store twice since the first, and will go back tomorrow because none of the phones or laptops have charged and/or stay charged. None except for the phone Fred uses, or I should say the phone Fred doesn’t use, as he really doesn’t know how to use a cellphone. But we insist here in Italy that we all be reachable. So, back to the phone store I will go tomorrow to sort it out again. Six hours yesterday in my pajamas were spent at the kitchen table trying to figure out how to text…. only to find at 6 pm when I finally gave up and went to the phone store that I didn’t put texting on the plan. 

Dessert on Night Two

Today was the annual lunch at Purgaturio. I take pictures every year and they are just as beautiful (but quite similar) every year. 

I skipped something exciting that happened in Viterbo this morning, but that’s for another post.

Lunch at Purgatorio

Funny Dr. Seuss flowers.

Owen

The view of Purgatorio. Same picture I take every year.
Today it poured while we were there, but ever so briefly,
and the sun was back out again in no time.

Date Night & the Duck

This post is called Date Night & the Duck,  but admittedly, it will have some photos that have nothing to do with that night. Some are from a night when Fred and I went out to check the availability of the night of Owen's birthday, only to be convinced to stay for dinner (and make a reservation for his birthday.... actually, for the night after because his birthday night, a Tuesday, is their day to be closed. Every restaurant and shop has to be closed one day a week.).

This next shot—I can't remember where we were, but this could be any number of nights when we asked Kelly to join us. She was the glue that kept the four of us Lynches together this summer, for which we are very grateful. 

This shot was taken a couple of days before we left. Most shops and bars have beads hanging from the doorways. Must be a way to keep bugs out. This one looked exactly like spaghetti!

I shot this because Henry is going off to college in the town where the "Smiley Face" was invented. Worcester, Massachusetts. This is a take on the ubiquitous image.

And now we're at that date night, but again, this will lapse into our last night in Viterbo, which was spent at the same restaurant ( The Garden of the Duck), but with the whole family, as opposed to a date night with just Fred and me.

On our way there, we witnessed a water delivery. The arsenic issue is very real!

At the Garden of The Duck, the appetizer was over the top. It's described simply as fried vegetables, but it was better than anything we've eaten in the States.

Our table. We had a reservation, but, sadly, he thought we were coming the Wednesday PRIOR to this particular Wednesday! The weather was chilly so we had to eat indoors, so we were lucky to get a table!

My "mezzo litre de vino bianco" was misundertood and morphed into an entire bottle of non-house wine : )  No problem!

A reluctant pose.

A requested pose.

This was what we figured was a batchelor party. There were some women, though, so it might not be an accurate theory. Pretty rowdy!

Check out the Go-Pro! Or is that a selfie on a rod???

Fred's favorite: Caccio e Pepe.

I've been ordering this amazing salad of arugula and tomatoes with steak and parmesan cheese chunks.

This is what the Garden of the Duck looks like. It's our favorite spot. Sort of a rooftop setting with a very lively host, Mareno   :)

This shot (above) and the one below were taken on our date night.

Sneaky devil, that Mareno!