A good witch granted. One Darin could imagine himself kissing as he went off to his job at the ad factory. We’ve always had our time in the ad game in common, Darin and I. And I’ve always felt it went deeper than that.

Except instead of being on 1960’s TV, in an American suburb, we are in downtown Umbria. Ergo, we have company. Fun, lovely company. Then we traveled, came back, had more. Do not try being us without a calendar in hand. Both companies, plural, were in the same upstairs apt, just at different moments.

The second set are wonderful friends and neighbors from Maine, and Paul is one of the handiest people I have yet to meet. He can make anything out of any other thing almost as a party trick. Marvelously handy. But he couldn’t make hot water come out of that apt’s shower. And if he couldn’t make it work, it was well and truly fried. He could with the right tool. But it was the weekend. And then they left.

But with more company on the horizon, it was quickly falling to me to Stand and Deliver. Which means call the plumber. And bathe in the withering glare of his famously handsome but nevertheless, cold, ice blue eyes. Eyes that, as soon as I could find him (please allow a week to ten days) would be saying “a preschooler with half a brain, hint, hint, and the proper tool, a tiny pre-schooler could do this. I have massive, important castles and business people of great import to stare down, and yet you bother me.” So. I could go that route. And, or, I could be that tiny pre-schooler with the proper tool. And just do this thing.

As always, before any trip to a foreign land, say, an Italian hardware store, I take copious photos, and any visual aids I can break loose from the battle site. In this case, the tub faucet on which was written in script “Nobile.” All of which I packed off to the giant plumbing supply place. Where they gave me the same look I could have gotten from the plumber. And then they gave me what was even obvious to me, the wrong tool. And advise that was even wrong-er. Which boiled down to “Oh, llustrious client, Mr. PreSchooler yourself, please buy this wildly expensive pair of regular pliers and pull on that thing, there in the middle, pull like your wife depended on it. And then it will miraculously come off in your hand, and you will have no water at all in your home until you bring that part back here. And we’ll see what we can do. Maybe we’ll have one like that. Maybe.” And then he added “Semplicissimo.”

Hmmm. Ok. Like Scarlett I will think about that Domani.

Domani came, Midge left. For a Girls’ Day Out in, and surely involving a glass of, Chianti. But before she left she said “You know how I like to think that things left alone can fix themselves?” Yes, yes I do know that. But being someone who went to an actual engineering school for a couple semesters, that is really not fixing the actual faucet here.

After waves goodbye, I shut down the water supply right at the street. And cautiously approached the surly tub. New pliers in hand, I grabbed the thing they said to grab, it stuck, I wrestled, and immediately purpled the pointing finger of my left hand. At which point I realized I needed professional help. In oh so many, many ways. Because this valve thing isn’t going anywhere if it depends on me and this particular tool. And I can’t get any other tools because our car is cavorting in Chianti.

Friends? Already used Bruno to do a gratis repair in this bathroom, earlier this same week. And company still coming tomorrow. What to do now? What. If. I. Just …what if I just try, not the shower, slowly carefully try the tub faucet, just one more time?

In a scant few moments you could poach eggs in the water coming out of the faucet and you could hear the comforting roar of the gas heater. I’m more of a tub guy but I’m going for the gold now. I flip the lever to “Shower.”

Sure enough. She fixed it.

See you in Italy,,

Stew Vreeland

PS the landscape is the view out the window of the bathroom. To keep everything in perspective. That is the important bit! Hey, we can shower when we get home, right?

Same with Trieste. After seeing the castle, drove the couple of miles to the city. Sunbathers sunning one the rocks the entire way. Its not a beach, but water and sun par excellance. Drove our rental car right into the center of town like we’d been doing it all our lives. Just keep the sea on your right. Oh, look, there’s the hotel, Grand Duchi d’Aostia. Parked the car in their half hour zone, told the lady at the desk to have someone make it go away and they did. She said we can have it back anytime you want. But we didn’t want to see it till we were going to leave. And after seeing the hotel and the town for a few minutes, we knew we didn’t want to leave at all!

The Piazza Unita’ d’Italia is grand and perfect in everyway, every time of day. Huge and right on the water. Very dramatic. Roman ruins? Checked them off a block from the hotel. Gelati and coffee? How much can you take? Seafood? Holy cats. Have you ever had swordfish lasagna? I thought I was going to levitate right out of my chair and ascend into the multicolored sunset straight into heaven.

People are nice, everything downtown is comfortable and clean, clean, clean, every building sparkling and no scaffold and nets, just maintained to death.

Love their dogs here, maintain them too. I saw exotic kinds of dogs I’ve rarely ever seen, borzi, and poodles and I can so remember one massive mastiff literally prancing by, his gorgeous, loose-fitting, steel-colored skin draped like a scarf around his neck and bouncing along in rhythm with him. Painting of three black labs over our bed in our room. We rode in the elevator with a spectacular cinnamon colored chow and his British owner and saw them every morning taking the sunshine and breakfast outside the hotel.
And the Smart car we saw on the street looking smart in triple black right inside and out, right down to its wheels. For pet funeral accessories. Really. Do they have services at churches? I’m sure they would if they could.

And because this is Italy, you think “surely they are Catholic?” Not so much. Yes, they have that flavor of religion and San Giusto on top of the city attests to that in a big way. But. Half the churches we saw, upon close inspection turn out to be Greek Orthodox. Che sorpressa. Ever wonder what one looks like in person? We peeked in the one between our hotel and the Grand Canal. And rocked right back on our heels. Looked at each other in amazement. And we’ve been in some churches. Nothing ever like this. Were they expecting us? Or the Greek Pope or what? Middle of the day, huge candelabras all lit, windows and floors polished to a fine shimmer. Was the whole thing an apparition? No need for any signs saying to keep our voices down. We were speechless.

This has to be a new highlight. Constant source of amazement here. Even for an Italy we’ve known for years. Always something new around every corner. It is seven hours by car from Panicale, but easy Autostrada hours. And on a Cielo Terso blue sky day? E va le la pena. Two delightful hours east and south of Venice. And you know you can’t just wheel in to the middle of that one and park by your hotel.

See you in Italy

Stew Vreeland

Check out our road trip through FIVE ITALIAN PROVINCES to Padova and Trieste here. Stayed in the nicest spas in both places. What a fine relax mode we got into.

If you have Wi-Fi, INSTAGRAM is a snap. Click your picture, adjust it, caption, send. Ta da!

More on both these excellent journeys soon!

See you in Italy right now! And now, we’ve had our coffee at Aldo’s, and company coming soon – so no excuses, back to garden maintenance!

Stew Vreeland

LOOK OUT ITALY. READY OR NOT. HERE WE COME.

ci vediamo in Italia e

See you in Italy,

Stew

If you’d like to see more photos, here’s a link to stories and pictures from a past year

We’re penciling in Padova and Trieste on our trip plans. Never been to Trieste. Any recommends there? Our friend Enrico of Milano who owns Paciarino here in Portland rolled his eyes heavenward and said “Oh, Trieste. You will love it. Greatly overlooked and one of the best best cities in Italy.” (speaking of loving it, my Ravioli Goat Cheese al Pomodoro was stellar. Complimenti, Enrico) If anyone has any Must See/Do things they think we should put on our Trieste list, let us know. So far, the only absolute is Piazza Grande and il Castillo di Miramar, Maximillian and Carlotta’s fairytale castle in the harbor.

We’re really ready now!

See you in Italy!

Stew Vreeland

We had to spring the “Bad Monkey” from his winter hiding place a bit early this year. It wasn’t for good behavior. But this little green monkey really was going green. He’s being featured at a Sustainable Vehicles Design Seminar at SMCC in South Portland, Monday night. We’ve been really scrambling to get him ready for his first day of school, license plates, registration, insurance, the funny gas/oil brew we have to mix up for it. And a quick bath in the front yard.

See the poster!

And all that early season activity has had some great side benefits. We’ve been storming up and down the road out front, dropping in on neighbors, loud speakers blaring “Volare” or whatever other Italian Classics the iPhone-based sound system has cued up. You can see the glow of this way non-original piece of equipment in the photo. OH, that other glow? That would be one of the Kalik beers our neighbor Denny brought us back from the Bahamas. That was our prize for dropping in on him!

Got to love Italian Design. The two bottles laid down perfectly in the dashboard. One on each side. Cup holders? No. That ground breaking automotive moment had not yet happened back in 1983. And, much as we want one, I have to admit it takes at least two hands on the tiller/accelerator/clutch mechanism to keep this ride shiny side up and between the ditches. Drinking and driving? I don’t think so. We’ve got class tomorrow.

See you in school,

Stew Vreeland

And plus, even though Palm Sunday and Easter are almost upon us, no lines! Divertivi molto.

360 DEGREE WRAP AROUND PHOTOS INSIDE THE VATICAN

Basilica Papale SAN GIOVANNI IN LATERANO

Basilica Papale SAN PIETRO

Basilica Papale SAN PAOLO FUORI LE MURA

Basilica Papale SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE

It is a sure sign of Spring in Maine when motorcycles and convertibles peek out from under their winter covers. Last week, inspired by day after blissful day of seventies and sunshine weather, some of us even took the snow tires off our daily drivers. And coaxed their little red Fiat and little green Ape out of the barn where they’d been happily hibernating.

And, of course, it snowed and snowed last night.

But all those early, and fleeting signs of spring, certainly do have us counting the days until we arrive in Umbria. Look out Panicale, here we come, ready or not.

By the way. We ARE ready!

We miss our roses when we are apart. And, in truth they do only come out for a week or two. But what they lack in longevity they make up for abundance and punctuality. They spread out over the pergola in a sea of yellow, regular as clockwork on May Day. And this year, on May first, we’ll be there when they come out.


DO WE HAVE VIDEOS SHOWING WHY WE LOVE ITALY IN SPRING?
WHY YES, YES WE DO:

Here are our Lady Banks Roses on Display on a typical but magical May day a year or so ago in Umbria.

And here is May Day luncheon outside Siena (with our buddy Al Fresco and a few of his fair weather friends) at the Spannocchia estate in nearby Tuscany.

See you in Italy,

Stew Vreeland

See how easily I can work our upcoming trip to Umbria into a conversation? Yes, can’t wait. We’ll see our daughter The Wiley Traveler in London for a couple days and then plan to spend the Merry Month of May in Panicale, Umbria and beyond. Places on our dream itinerary further from our garden include repeat visits to Rome, Siena, Padova, Lago di Garda and a long awaited visit to Trieste.

Stay tuned. We’ll see how this itinerary works out.

Stew

Check out Katia’s fine rentals site to see lots of brand new, fun-in-the-snow shots.
They are all from earlier today!

If you have ever been to Panicale, but haven’t yet seen it in the snow, you are in for a surprise. It looks like close to a foot of snow and it looks like everyone is having a ball. Snow ball? Allora. Enjoy!

Other snow storm stories

See you in (snowy!) Italy.

Stew Vreeland