Splashdown in T minus three, two . . .

This is the final week of the our countdown to Italy! Leaving Thursday, so if i can just hold my breath through Tues and Wed . . . we’re goingoingone. In the meantime, here’s our wet ’n wild foreign correspondent Amy of the Arno with an exciting new way to see Florence — by water. Thanks, Amy looks like great fun!

GETTING OUR FEET WET IN FLORENCE

FLORENCE, Tuscany— Messing about with boats — what could possibly be more fun? Sailboats, ski boats, kayaks, rowboats, canoes — I’ve done ’emall. When I got to college in 1981 I was so excited to join Crew — alas, too small to row, too big to cox (despite my impressive vocal amps). 18 years and three kids later I decided my time had come. In 1999 I finally got some lessons and a single shell; in 2005 I found the discipline to train for the recreational race at the Head of the Charles (Boston) in October.

My 14-year-old thought that the race (and maybe even her mom) was pretty cool. She wanted to learn, and wanted to figure out a way to get other high school kids interested. I was happy to help, but there was one significant problem — rowing a single means one person with two oars. Most team rowing means each person has one oar (it’s called rowing ”sweep”) and I’d never done that before.

ROW, ROW, ROW, YOUR BOAT . . .

So, ”Emily”, I said, ”Why don’t you find us a rowing camp to attend during April break where we can learn sweep together?” A few hours and several web sites later, she informed me that she’d found the perfect place: good weather, great coach, sweep rowing, about the same pricetag as her usual ”Y” camp. There was, however, a tiny bit of small print: the camp happened to take place during a non-vacation week, and, oh yeah, it also happened to be in Italy.

What’s a mother (who LOVES rowing and LOVES Italy) to do? We saved our pennies and, on April 1, 2006, met Enzo and Eliza, the owners of the Terralba Rowing Camp in San Miniato.

MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY . . .

The experience was truly magical. We stayed in their guest rooms and Enzo’s mother, Aida, treated us to her wonderful country cooking each evening. During the days we explored Tuscany with Eliza until training started at 4pm. We were the
only campers that week, so we trained with the high school club.

For you rowers out there, you’ll be impressed to hear that Emily and I learned to row a pair (one boat, two people, each with one oar) — the most challenging boat around because the rowers have to be perfectly synchronized (identical twins are ideal for a pair).

Emily was a natural, and politely tolerated her mother. Mid-week she got to row with another high school girl and they had a wonderful time.

LIFE IS BUT A DREAM.
But how incredible was Wednesday, when we travelled 30 minutes to Florence and got to use the facilities and boats of the Florence rowing club? Rowing along the Arno, cat-calls and curious gazes everywhere, enjoying a vantage point that few get to experience.

Afterward we sipped champagne on the club lawn (right below the Uffizi, by the way) and watched the 9-year-olds taking their first strokes on the learning barge.

We lived and worked in Italy that week. We met wonderful adults and kids, were part of a warm and loving family, and created memories that will last forever. OK if we come back next year?

See you in Italy!

Amy

Listen to the sounds of Italy. And beer.

Oh dear Heavens, it is Oktoberfest time in Umbria. And you know what that means! Actually, considering, you know, WW2 and all, I guess I’m surprised Oktoberfest gets much of a celebration but, yes, Pellicano’s Restaurant has a month of fun planned for you here in Pineta.

CHIESA MADONNA DELLA SBARRA, PANICALE, Umbria—ok, work with me and know that I Am The Low Tech Guy – in a high tech world. But, I like to get right in over my head and get fun digi toys and I have a new one here in Italy with me now. It is a tiny, thumb sized recorder that records, plays MP3s and like a regular thumb drive it can transfer files up to 500 megs! What Ever a meg is. Anyway, after a dinner at the Burnt Goose in Paciano, Wiley and I arrived at a concert, late, slipped into a side pew just inside the door, waved furtively at Steve and Jules in the back row. They must have come in almost as late as we did. We snapped a couple photos, don’t worry, no flash and then started this test recording of the concert. It starts out a bit scratchy, but I tried to edit it for hours and said, you know, that will be another day. It gets fairly nice if you advance it just a bit.

The concert was in the baroque church at the end of our street and this bit of of the concert is a piece of the ever popular ”Le Sonate di J.S. Bach per cembalo e violino” I did not know the word cembalo but it sounds quite a lot like a harpsicord to me. See what you think.

INTERNATIONAL HOUSE OF PIZZA?

PINETA, UMBRIA—Oh dear Heavens, it is Oktoberfest time in Umbria. And you know what that means! Actually, considering, you know, WW2 and all, I guess I’m surprised Oktoberfest gets much of a celebration but, yes, Pellicano’s Restaurant has a month of fun planned for you here in Pineta, just outside Castiglione del Lago.

Pellicano’s is where we first fell to the gastronomic low of having French fries for a starter course ahead of the pizza course. We keep saying Oh we’re on vacation. Lets live a little. Ok. Declasse. But these are seriously good fries. So good we don’t ask how they make them but surely they can’t be this good tasting and still good for you. And they come to the table so fast its like mental telepathy. Think the thought, barely verbalize it, and in seconds you are eating your words, in what feels like one fell swoop.

I really can’t think what first got us in the door the first time here. Other than we do drive by it going back and forth to Castiglione del Lago. Its right on the edge of the road in full sight with throngs of people eating outdoors at covered picnic (peek-neek) tables in the summer, and a full rigged, actual ship in front of the door all year round. On the weekends the road itself becomes an extension of their parking lot as it is packed with young revelers in the upstairs music lounge. Not quite crazy enough, brave enough, young enough to aspire to going up to The Jackel on a Saturday night.

The first time we went in Pellicanos I am quite sure we were all the way inside the doors before we realized it was a Scottish pub. Surely, we wouldn’t have knowingly gone into a Scottish pub in the heart of our beloved Umbria? But, yes. Yes, we did and yes, there really is Tennent’s Lager on tap. Which, strangely is beer. Which is not the national drink here. I think it is usually considered that stuff made out of the grapes we drive by all day long. But the beer is here and it is flowing out of the spigots at a prodigious rate.

So the whole thing seems totally wrong and out of context but it is a fun and guilty pleasure to go there and pagans that we are, no trip to Italy is complete without a Pellicano’s fix for us. And the woodburning oven pizza is thin and crisp and consistently great and creative choices. And Choices! Pages upon pages of Choices. One time I ordered the extra spicy sausage pizza named The Serpent and imagine my surprise when it came shaped like a snake with cunning olive eyes.

Tonight’s special was interesting, maybe not up there with the Serpent, but still fun. This American tourist found himself telling the black t-shirted Italian waitress that he wanted the German braut and French fry Okoberfest pizza special. And the beer special to go with it please. The pale, pale German ale: Paulaner Oktoberfest Bier. What a head it had on it. What a Magic Moment, overall. Ah yes, we are living “la dolce vita” now. Just made me want to climb up an Umbrian hilltop with a few hundred friend, hold hands and start singing ”I’d like to buy the world a Coke, and teach it how to sing”

And come to think of it, that is how we ended the night. By the time we got our stuffed selves back to Panicale we felt the need for a forced march around the town walls, twice, and then we made a stop at Aldo’s for a Coke to help ”digestivo un po” all this World Cuisine. One more lap and then it was home – to think about what we’ve just done. And promise never to do it again. Until the next time.