Monday, March 18, 2024

Mountain Time


Back to solo traveling I left Ischia by ferry, then train, bus and private car to my next destination, Castelmezzano.  Part of the mix of what I do when I travel is a combination of old favorites and new places.  This was really a dartboard throw.  I wanted a smaller town in the center of the country where I could see some mountains.  So I pulled up the AirBnB, map view, and zoomed into where I knew the mountains to be.  I picked third from the cheapest, in a town I had never heard of.  A couple of days later I was on my way.

Again this was one of the opportunities I really enjoy from traveling.  The owner of the BnB picked me up at the bus station in Potenza about thirty minutes away.  Then I got the wonderful experience of a guided tour the last half hour of the trip.  He was able to enjoy my gasp of pleasure as we rounded the last corner and town was laid out before us.  This beautiful village on the slopes of the southern Italian Dolomites sits perched on the edge.  Unfortunately I arrived during a rainy spell.  During my work week it was sunny and beautiful.  The weekend, when I had time, the rain was nearly constant.  I carry a rain poncho with but there was a degree of laziness as well.  It was nice to get some introvert recharge time.


I did get one really nice hike about half way to the neighboring town.  I might have been able to make it the whole way but being a flatlander it is difficult for me to guess when it is going to get dark when there are mountains around.  So though I might have been able to make it, at least part of the walk back could have been in the dark.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk it.  The last bit was a tunnel that was dark enough and creepy enough even in daylight.  I read Stephen King’s _The Stand_ and the tunnel part of the story was in the front of my mind.


One local attraction I am glad I didn’t have to decide if I had the courage for was three of the cities run a zip lines between them.  The lines cross over the valleys and my host told me the sensation is of flying.  I think that would be totally cool if I could have done it, but I am not positive I could have.  Better for me it was closed.


My host also told me the previous summer he had hosted a writer working on a novel, so I thought maybe there was enough real writer vibes for me to soak up a few.

The problem with small town Italy during the off season is eating.  Five days a week in this town there are two restaurants open.  A fairly expensive (by Italian standards) hotel restaurant and a pizza place.  On the weekends, Saturday & Sunday (differing from the American standard of Friday & Saturday) there were two other restaurants that opened up.  But two nights, if you hadn’t planned ahead, you are going to go hungry.  I was closer to that end of the spectrum.  I had a quarter bag of peanuts, a bag of wheat crackers and half a loaf of bread.  Not the most balanced of diets but I didn’t starve.


I had lunch at the more expensive place (Hotel Dolomiti, via Michele Volini, 19) and found it to be entirely unremarkable.  The pizza restaurant (Pizzeria Rosticceria, via Roma, 10) was interesting and served a good pizza.  Walk in one side, where you order and take away pizzas but if you want to stay, then the woman takes you across the street to a room a few steps below street level that has five tables.  There she will bring you your wine and once it is ready your pizza.  I was surprised, the pizza was sliced.  Maybe because she immediately identified me as American?  Cut pizza is a rare thing


There have have been so many “best in my life” meals here in Italy.  Maybe you tire of hearing of them, but it was another occasion.  When I arrived my host was pointing out places to eat and places to avoid.  One of the places was only open one night and I am so glad I ate there.  It was an odd place. 


Signage was very minimal, just a hand written menu taped to the door usually closed. But one night as I walked by that door was open. No sign inside either but some stairs going up.  I still have trouble getting used to the eating hours in Italy.  I tend to go out about seven forty five even though I know they only have opened at seven thirty.  It still, even after I have lived this life, throws me when I walk into a place at this time and find it empty. In America I would assume they are closing, not just opening. 


It is hard to make assumptions of what the relationships are of all the parties.  Here is how I read the situation.  There was an old man who acted very much like the father.  There was a shy young man who seemed quite put upon and chased around by the old man.  That sure screamed son to me.  Then half way through my first glass of wine an early thirties no-nonsense woman arrived. Older sister perhaps, or an unrelated employee? There was some unhappiness directed to her as well. To me, that unhappiness looked like “You’re late.  …Again” but she ignored it completely and just went about her job.

Even if I read the relationship wrong it was amusing to watch.  The old man walked around with a smile to the customers and a look of frustration to the son.  Resignation to the daughter.  He came up and spoke cheerily and earnestly to me, shaking my hand and speaking in Italian.  I have no idea what he said but I know he meant it.

Just what affiliation there was to Knights Templar I do not know.  I didn’t even realize they are an organization that still exists until I got a new neighbor a few years ago who moved from Washington to my small town.  He had come from a highfalutin government position and told me he was a member.  One time after a few drinks I asked him if they still guard the holy grail. He told me it was a pity I hadn’t asked the previous week.  It had been his turn to watch it and it had been sitting in his garage.

The meal was great from the beginning.  I had a small complimentary appetizer they brought out that was very tasty.  I didn’t get a picture of it.  I had a pasta with  a local type of large dried pepper which was very good as well.  The pepper was not particularly hot but had a really nice flavor.  But the real star of the show was the tiramisu.  It was the best I have ever had in my life.  Perfect!  Not soggy at all.  Not too much espresso.  Plenty of chocolate over the top.   I loved it!  They were happy when I asked for a glass of grappa at the end and poured me a tall.    I ate at the other places as well but far and away this was the best meal I had in Castelmezzano.


The AirBnB I was perhaps not the most convenient, but certainly the most interesting place I have stayed at.  It was carved into solid rock and was almost cave-like in the bedroom.  Not surprisingly it was very, very quiet.  The only inconvenience was the bathroom was outside the apartment.  Late night trips were accomplished by stepping outside into the hallway which was visible to the street below, then up a few steps into the bathroom.  Luckily no passerby was startled to see a naked man at 3am.






Monday, March 11, 2024

Off With Its Head!

There was really only one last adventure to be had in Firenze before departure. Something I had heard about, wanted to do, but had never gotten around to.  Visiting the buchette di vino, the wine windows.  Created back in the 1600s during the bubonic plague they allowed the wine merchants to continue to sell wine with minimal customer contact.  These days we use sheets of plexiglass but back then they created a little window through which you can order and receive a glass.  

There used to be hundreds of them but many have now been closed up.  Still we found plenty, certainly more than we needed in one night.   Our situation was not improved by the windows closing for an hour before reopening at 7:30 for dinner. What else was there to do but have a couple of glasses of wine in a bar while we waited for the windows to reopen?


Luckily after the window tour we staggered to a fantastic and sobering dinner at Aroma of Indian just around the corner from our BnB on Via Sant'Antonino, 39/R.   We asked for spicy and that was a good thing.  It was wonderfully flavored, still very mild by American standards.  I abstained from even beer during the meal which was a wise long term choice for me.  


Leaving Firenze we did a brief tour of the Cinque Terre.  I was very happy to discover things had not changed.  For the third year in a row the very best croissant al cioccolato of the entire trip can still be found at Bar O’netto right on the main street of Riomaggiore. It is perfect, crusty and buttery, and has to be one of the best of my life.  So many places take a plain croissant and shoot a squirt of Nutella in it.  The ones who care at least warm up the Nutella but it still is only adequate.  Acceptable in a pinch, but the real thing, chocolate cooked in, is at Bar O’netto and I look forward to it every year.  The barista in the morning is also an interesting fellow.  The music tends to be eighties and nineties heavy metal to which, as the mood strikes him, he whistles along quite expertly.  The joy of whistled AC/DC first thing in the morning is unexpected. 


She won’t be happy I am going to tell this story but what are friends for?  We went to Manarola for dinner and The Seamstress ordered a pasta with prawns.  Lots of stuff in Italy arrives at the table in an unvarnished, natural state. This was a good example. The timing was bad because we had just finished discussing how horrified we were at how some places serve fish.  You get an entire cooked fish showing up at your table.  Moments later her plate arrived with three large whole prawns on top of the pasta.  Their long antenna drooping off the side and beady little eyes staring up at her.  Her first comment was on the order of “how the fuck am I supposed to eat these things?” I asked, “Technically or morally?”  When she answered, I responded “Google, how to eat prawns?” and relaxation washed over her face as she whipped out her phone.  A couple of videos later she was chopping their heads off.  Well, I guess it wasn’t a moral issue holding her back.   Two years ago I had one of the best pastas of my life at this restaurant.  It had rock crab on top but the crabs were partially shelled.  There was not the same level of barbarism involved in that meal.


The next day I was up at six and we were heading to the train station.  We were on our way to the island of Ischia.  We popped for some pricier high speed trains and got a couple of really lucky connections. I mean, I say lucky because no matter how much I plan stuff it never goes totally smooth.  But with her at the wheel we were able to knock an eight hour travel day down to six.  We were on Ischia because when first talking we were thinking it would be a cooking trip.  Our goal was to do at least a class a week.  But those were my tasks to plan and …well, you know. 


She had on her list to visit the island of Capri but when I did some checking into it, BnBs and really everything, even in the off season, was very pricey.  Around that same time I had found that a chef I had taken a class from the previous year was in the process of moving to Ischia, a larger island to the north of Capri.  Island, check.  Cooking class, check.  Perfect!


Getting there involved taking trains to Napoli, then a ferry out to the island.  There is always a problem when you cross from government to private infrastructure.  Not limited to Italy, America has the same situation. The subways link perfectly to the intracity rail systems.  There are signs that guide you between the two government entities seamlessly.  But going to the privately run ferry system, not so much.  I am sure it has to do with the government not being able to show any favoritism.  The subway dumps you out into a free-for-all of ferries and cruise ships with no guidance at all.  Dragging luggage (next year I swear to pack lighter) is never a good way to find a specific thing in something the scale of a bunch of ferry systems.  There appears to be three different companies providing service at the three different docks located quite a distance apart.  Tickets must be purchased and gates found.  It never goes smooth.  Throw in the foreign language element and it is that much harder.  We first went to the cruse ship area and realizing our mistake I shifted into my method of asking someone for directions every hundred yards or so.


I know we made the wrong choice going over.  We were on a small, passenger only, ferry with sealed up windows and no air.  I hated it. I don’t have particular claustrophobia issues the way I have known friends in the past to have.  It isn’t small spaces I don’t like, but put me in somewhere there is no fresh air and I suffer aggravation.  Eventually it ended.  The BnB was beautiful and had a really pretty view of the castle on the tip of the island.  Easily the prettiest view of the trip.


This is a few days where I don’t have my typical varied restaurant review.  There was really only one place open on our side of the island. Called Restorante Pirozzi on via Seminario 51, I ate three meals there.  They did alright with pizza, I thought it a little over sauced and the crust too tender.  Not chewy enough.  But their pasta, and particularly the spaghetti pomodoro, was amazing!  Just a simple dish of pasta, olive oil and roasted plum tomatoes but it tasted so fresh and flavorful it was exactly the meal I was looking for.


So a beautiful view of the castle but sadly the one major tourist attraction on our side of the island was closed for maintenance.  Part of off season travel is this fact.  It is the time these places rebuild.  Just like the walking trail between the towns of the Cinque Terre.  In three years it has never been open.  The other thing, our cooking class cancelled.  Oh well, maybe next year.


This was a first for me.  The airbnb owner sent me the WhatsApp number of a taxi driver.  Literally everyone here is on WhatsApp.  When the ferry was about to arrive I texted her and a few minutes later she was there to pick us up.  Then told me if I needed to go anywhere during my stay to contact her directly.  This was a new experience.  One that I didn’t take advantage of during the stay but contacted her the night before departure to arrange pickup the next morning.  Then in the morning, she wrote to me saying the ferry I wanted to take back was unlikely operating due to the wind.  Again, I had never had such a proactive engagement with a cabbie.  She picked us up earlier to get us onto a different ferry.  She walked with me to the ticket window and with her Italian made sure I got the correct ticket.  I had already told her the problem I had with the previous ferry so she got me on a different one.  This one a larger, vehicle/passenger ferry with an open deck.  I was able to pace around in the open air.  A vast improvement! 


This was the parting of the ways for The Seamstress and I.  She was off to Napoli to meet up with a British friend for a couple of days before her flight home from Rome. I decided to visit one of the mountain towns.  We toasted our excellent adventure over a last dish of pasta.  Our own personal Last Supper.

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Italy In Tune


I have developed two friendships in Firenze, and in a way they are sort of tied together. Last year when I visited I stayed in the most amazing AirBnb. Right on the edge of the piazza, opening the window the Duomo was literally right there. Arriving at a BnB runs the spectrum. Some places you get sent a lock box code and never talk to another person. Others you meet some employee of a management company who delivers a dry tour and lectures you about how to deal with trash and recycling. -Something taken very seriously in parts of Italy. But occasionally you meet the actual owner. Someone who is passionate about the place and can tell stories of its history.

In this case it was the latter.  But it was during this tour he asked me a direct question,  “You are from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin?” I was a little surprised by this.  To most Italians, America consists of New York, the Grand Canyon and L.A. along with some stuff in the middle they can’t actually grasp the size of.  When I confirmed that was indeed where I was from, he told me the reason he had asked.  He had spent a year as an exchange student in Cadott, the next town over, back in the seventies.  Quite a coincidence.  So he earned his pseudonym in this blog, the Wisconsin Boy. 


The apartment had been his dad’s until he retired and moved out to the family villa.  His father had been a semi-famous author, painter and architect.  His apartment, for several reasons has been maybe the most incredible AirBnb I have ever stayed at.  I nicknamed it world’s longest apartment.  I am not kidding, it is only one room wide but I swear it is half a block long.  I joked about packing a lunch and setting out for the bathroom.  But it was amazing in one other way as well.  It’s just off the corner of the Duomo.  When you open the big windows it looks positively surreal the church is that close. You hear the expression, so close it felt like you could reach out and touch it?  This is the first time I have experienced it.  I tried taking pictures, but honestly they looked fake.


The other thing, it faces the only edge of the dome that is finished.  The story goes that during construction, a very famous artist of the time, Michelangelo was asked what he thought of it.  He said, “No, no, no, this is all wrong.  It looks like a birdcage!” and the weight of his opinion halted construction until something better could be designed.  That something better never happened.  So the rest of the dome has the steel cornice holders sticking out, but no cornice attached except for the one segment that faces the apartment.

What makes this place different as well, the apartment was filled with books and his father’s paintings.  Even books about his father!  So many places I stay have the stark bare minimum.  But not this place, there was even a guitar on a hook.  That’s where the links in the chain of my story come together.  Whenever I stay someplace where there is a guitar hanging from the wall I feel like I have to pull it down and play it.  But this one had a problem.  Its two high note tuners, the E and B strings, were stripped out. Anytime I got anywhere close to being in tune it would slip.  Thus the guitar was un-tuneable. 


I only knew one other person in Firenze, a guy I met the previous year, and he ran a guitar repair shop.  It seemed a case of karma telling me I had to step in. My next to last day I took it to his shop and he made time to fix it while I waited. —Which was cool to watch.  He had a whole drawer full of old tuner parts.  In it he found a couple of new gears and one new spindle that he could cobble together and whaa-laa it was playable again!

When I let the Wisconsin Boy know I was out of his apartment and on my way to my next adventure I also told him about the guitar fix.  He was so happy and told me the next time I came to Firenze to let him know.  He offered to take me to his family villa and we would drink wine, tell stories and play guitars.  For me that was an unstated dream come true!  This year I was in touch with him as soon as I knew the dates and the Villa visit was everything I had hoped.


Something I learned two years ago is the real expense of renting a car.  You think it is the car rental or the fuel?  No.  I learned a lesson about ZTLs.  Zone Traffic Limited. Initially it was explained by a BnB owner on the final days of my stay that first year.  Some cities have areas in the historic districts where they limit the number of cars that can enter.  You are required to go to the city web site, enter your plate number the exact time you will arrive and depart and if the daily quota has not been met, pay a fee and you are allowed entry.  


At the time she was explaining this I was wondering if it had affected me or not.  I had been in lots of cities!  About ten months later (the speed of Italian bureaucracy) I found out it did. What happens is the cities have traffic cams set up all around the ZTL capturing license plate numbers.  Not on the pre-approved list?  They contact the car rental agency who dings your credit card to the tune of 50€ to give your name and contact information to the police.  Then the police contact you wanting 100€ for the traffic fine.  I paid orders of magnitude more in ZTL violations than I did for three weeks of car rental.  All education is expensive.  


The reason I bring up this tale is the Wisconsin Boy was happy to drive us to the Villa as long as we walked to the edge of the ZTL.  Even he couldn’t drive into it!   No imposition for us, but unimaginable to think about something like this in America where cars are king.  A city declaring limits to the number of cars allowed is how revolutions might start! 

Our drive was about thirty minutes outside of Firenze to San Donato in Collina on a beautiful hilltop.  I have only been the driver on previous excursions into the countryside so it was great getting the passenger view.  The arrival was as spectacular as I had hoped.  Sitting on the top of a hill, he described it as a fourteenth century tower house with a seventeenth century addition.   


Over the years of course the area around the Villa had changed.  At one time the family owned all of two hillsides but over time sections of the property have been sold off until now just the hilltop remains.  Villas, after all, are not cheap to keep up.  While we were there the family was meeting with a contractor to replace a large section of stone retaining wall that had collapsed below the olive grove.  The wall was all dry-fit stone and it was required to be restored the same way.  I forgot to ask how expensive that job was going to be.  I would guess shockingly.


Just below the Villa is an olive grove and I have been invited back for the olive harvest in October.  Something I am seriously considering this year.  This totally seems like a thing I have to do in my life.  Being offered half the olive oil for my efforts was frosting on the cake.  It was explained to us how the trimming of the trees works.  Each year an olive tree must be cut back because it is only the second year’s growth that produces the majority of olives.  Last year they did a heavy trim so hopes are high if the weather cooperates it will be a good year.


Another change in the area was the addition of a major highway.  Initially with just one tunnel, this year a second is being added.  He talked about the damage and cracking to the villa itself caused by tunneling.  Which honestly I didn’t think could be related since the tunnel seemed so far away.  I assumed it more or less followed the bottom of the valley.  It wasn’t until a few days ago, when I first pulled it up on Google maps to write this post, when I wanted to confirm the name of the nearby town, I realized the tunnel passed almost directly underneath. 

With such a commanding view of the area around it played an important part in the war.  Artillery pointing one direction and then a few years later artillery pointing the other direction as the Germans retreated.


It wasn’t all guitar playing and drinking wine, we also talked at fair length about our respective governments and their march toward fascism.  He talked a lot about when he was young and his father and grandfather over and over telling the signs to watch for.  He described how frustrated he was to have to listen to them. How he would say “This is all in the past! That is all over!  History!” and now he is watching in horrified disbelief as step by step his country is proceeding exactly as his ancestors described. 

Saturday, March 2, 2024

Towers and Tiggers


The first time I came to Italy I landed directly into Florence.  I didn’t understand how easy it was to get around by train and I knew it was the primary city I wanted to see.  So I landed there in case I couldn’t figure things out.

I had done a little bit of research.  I landed at the airport.  I knew I needed to get on a metro train.  Ride it to the end of the line, Santa Maria Novella station.  I had been told cell service would be easy to get.  Just look for a Vodaphone office “they are everywhere.”  Well the first two steps went really well.  The last one, the one that would have given me data to view a map to the address of my BnB?  Well, that one didn’t work at all.  In bigger cities Vodaphone has offices right at the train stations but not at the Firenze airport or at the metro stations.  So I had no service.

Not to worry, I noticed there was a visitor’s info place right where I got off the metro.  I thought, perfect!  I can get some help there!  So I walked in the front door.  Immediately a woman behind the desk was yelling at me in Italian!  Finally, realizing my uncomprehending look, she switched to english and told me to go outside and get a mask on before coming back in.   Remember this was February of 2022.  Italy took masks and mask requirements much more seriously than America did.  …What a coincidence, they had one of the best outcomes once those were in place.


I got my mask on and re-entered but the woman still wasn’t too happy with me.  I had committed an unrecoverable faux pas.  I gave her the address I was looking for and she drew a five block circle on a map that had only a few streets labelled.  Then told me what I was looking for was somewhere in there and didn’t specifically tell me to get out, but I knew our conversation was over.  She told me to start asking people once I got inside the circle.


It was a rough start.  I didn’t yet own the travel suitcase I have now.  Everything was in a heavy duffle bag.  It was a much longer distance walking there than expected.  I was all alone in a foreign country, and really all alone in life.  A country where I didn’t speak the language.  Walking toward a piazza with the hopes of confessing to a total stranger I was lost.  As far as life low points go, I was thinking this was neck and neck for second place.  


But it all worked out eventually.  I wandered around the place and did ask a bunch of people.  The trouble was the street I needed was only about 180m long and so nobody really recognized the name of it.  Finally someone thought they did and told me to reverse my present course.  That got me closer and finally I figured out where the street signs were (up high on the buildings) and though it took a couple of hours from the time the metro dropped me I found my first airbnb all on my own.  I guess that was one of those momentum building successes.


This year I walked through that same piazza five times.  Each time knowing exactly where I was going.  I thought back to the knife edge my life was balanced on.  How much my understanding of this country has changed.  Traveling is not the same as vacationing.  A vacation can involve laying on a beach.  Traveling is work, and movement, disaster and recovery.  The ability to roll with whatever situation confronts you, adapt and stay on course.  I know which of those two I like.


This year’s trip was a bit different than previous years. I am easily entertained just walking around. Between the architecture and people watching I am pretty satisfied. This trip has taken me inside museums, the royal palace, the leather making school.  


From Firenze we made a day trip to Pisa to see the tower.  I have heard it described as a city with one design error photo-op.  Truth to a degree.  It is an industrial city with not a lot of spectacular architecture.  Close to the river there is a tiny cathedral which had actually been moved into its current position.  That had to have been an interesting job.  The church is said to contain one of the thorns crowning Jesus at the crucifixion.  A dubious story but it was enough to sponsor the building of a church I guess.  


I walked away from Pisa satisfied.  I love a good reveal and it was that.  Walking from the train station you can’t see the tower until rounding the final corner.  Suddenly there it is right in front of you.  Seeing these iconic places you have seen pictures of your entire life still triggers my sense of wonder.  My sense of, oh my god, I am really here.  I like it when that happens.  

I also had a good meal.  We knew we had to get away from the tourist trap of the tower and about a fifteen minute walk away we found Trattoria da Stelio.  I had a great spaghetti aglio olio with some very spicy peppericinis and a glass of vino rosso for five euro fifty.  


My favorite place to eat lunch in Firenze is the pasta stand on the first floor of  the Central Market.  I think I ate there every day I was in town.  It is interesting, they have a selection of about six different pastas and six different sauces.  Tell them what combination you want, pay, and they hand you a number.  About five minutes later they call your number and you get your pasta.  Getting there just before noon is a much better idea than just after.  I have seen ~30 people in line sometimes.  Buy your pasta and take it upstairs where they have seating.  In this area they do  have table service, but don’t do it unless you want wine for dessert.  The service is slow.   Walk right up to the bar, plate in hand, and order it directly.  Then take it to a table. If you are a couple it works even better, send the advance team up after ordering your pasta. 


For dinner I have a suggestion mostly for the food but also for the experience.  Go to Ristorante Pensavo Peggio on via del Moro 51.  We nicknamed the owner “Tigger” for obvious reasons you will understand once you get there.  His wife was the chef, he worked alone and somehow managed 20 tables spread across two floors.  He spoke almost no english, was a fount of energy and super, super friendly.  I had a tagliatelle that was cooked perfectly and tasted fantastic.  Of course the bread was disappointing because it is north of Rome but the rest of the food was very good.  Even the bruschetta, was good enough to make it the best we found north of Rome.  We were so impressed with his care and attention we actually left four euro as a tip.  This is a rare thing to do in Italy. Only my second time in three years. 

The creme brulee with a thick layer
of burnt sugar on the top.

Breaking away from my traditional order of tiramisu, at Pensavo they have creme brûlée.  Not the best I have had, but not a common dessert in Italy. It was nice to have something a little different.  A few minutes after we ordered it I said, “do you smell that?” we could smell the torching of the sugar on top.  That was fun. I almost felt a sous chef moment.   


Leaving, the owner asked if we wanted to join him in a shot of limoncello or grappa.  As a matter of fact we were honored to.  It did leave me wondering if he does that with every guest.  Maybe that is where all the energy comes from!  It was a lovely, friendly, Firenze experience.

Monday, February 26, 2024

Seeing Red


In a former iteration of life, before I chose what I thought was love over money, I went through a bout with success.  Spoiler alert, both were a mistake.  Jimmy Buffett put it best in _A Pirate Looks At 40_, “I made enough money to buy Miami but I pissed it away so fast.” During that time I was a Porsche man.  Sure, the Italians made sports cars, but in my mind at the time it took proper german engineering to made a sports car dependable, not a hostage to a repair shop.

Now both are out of my league, but I have become a little more open minded.  Movies in the past couple of years have brought new interest. Really the reason why I am in this particular city comes down to one scene in the movie _Ford vs Ferrari_.  You have to throw a southern accent on it to really get the spirit of Matt Damon playing Texan, Carroll Shelby, “that's what he's thinking about while he's sitting in Moe-deena, Italy, right now. That man is scared to death... that this year, you actually might be smart enough to start trusting me. So, yeah. I say you got Ferrari exactly where you want him. You're welcome”


It was a little over two hours train ride from Milano into this area I had been close to before.  Two years ago, up at Parma home of the famous cheese, and Verona home to …well, love I guess.  It provided the backdrop for Romeo and Guliette.   I guess I was expecting something similar to those towns, older and much smaller.  But Modena has a significant industrial base and though it had some old buildings and town square, seemed post war modern and well maintained.   Maybe it was the car builder who had something to do with it.


Touring Ferrari was interesting.  They actually have two museums, I only went to the one in Modena.  The second, a few miles south in Maranello is more technical about the cars and the racing program.  Whereas the one I went to was about Enzo himself and the consumer cars.  …If you can call a $230,000+ car a consumer that is.  They did have a Formula One car there and a very interesting display of the different engines they have used throughout the years.  It was fun seeing the different models.  They have a 250 GTO sitting on the museum floor.  The last one of those that changed hands, just back in November, made it the most expensive car in the world at fifty-one point seven million dollars.

Picture if you will this liquor store window
in America and the resulting "What about the 
children" protests. 

Of course just seeing all these cars in one spot, seeing the beautiful design of the museum itself, seeing the gift shop with $1700 sweatpants, $1200 jackets and $200 ink pens, all of this stuff was some combination of interesting and shocking.  They had several employees on staff and one of them would show up at your shoulder instantly if you handled a product.  Their job is to make sure disreputables like me didn’t try anything on unless I looked like a potential buyer.  


I didn’t realize Ferrari makes an SUV now and they actually had a couple of cars there not in red.  A beautiful yellow, of course, was my favorite.  There were quite a few people touring and they had one of their pre-production models where for an extra fee you could have your picture taken beside it.  I am not sure if the beautiful woman standing there was available as an additional prop.  I didn’t see any photos taken.


The museum wasn’t the only place around town I saw the Ferrari name.  I saw it on wine bottles and construction company barricades as well.  Evidently the family has diversified.  I didn’t see it on a single car outside of the museum grounds.  But, I guess it is winter here.  Plus, I wouldn’t have recognized the SUV had I walked right past it.


The best meal, and in the top five for the entire trip thus far, was a bit of a fluke.  I had researched a restaurant on google.  It was rated quite high and there were a couple of wild boar pasta dishes I just knew would be fantastic.  When we arrived I overshot the front door ending up in front of a different restaurant where the host rushed out to sweep us in.  About that moment we discovered my error and I told him no.  But then when we went into the original spot we were told, lacking a reservation, we are out of luck.  Fate had taken control I told the host next door we would love to dine with them.  When we walked in we were the only table so I was a bit nervous about that.  But, it filled some by the time we were finished.  It still surprises me how late Italians eat.  The restaurant was called In Vino Veritas, and was at Piazza Roma 4.  I had their lasagna and it was outstanding!  The wine, also one of the best of the trip was very reasonable in price.  


If you are looking for a lovely coffee shop/bar with a wonderful warm setting, friendly people and outstanding selection I would recommend Benny’s Bar, Corso Canalchiaro 88.  I am saying this not just because they served me the largest, best tasting olives I have ever eaten in my life.  I spent a couple hours sitting in one of their little tables.  They kept my snack tray full and arrived immediately when I needed a second vino rosso.  People watching was great there was well.  The happy hour crowd was fun to watch and though I only catch about one word in ten it was easy to see everyone was having a good time.


A disappointment was the first restaurant we went to when we got to town. Fra Diavolo, right on the main strip in town, on via Del Taglio.   From the outside they looked a little “American shopping mall.”  But, it was rolling up toward 2pm and food gets really hard to come by in Italy about that time.  You can’t be too picky.  If you are you might end up having to wait until seven thirty when the restaurants re-open for dinner.  So I was hoping for the best.  I thought their logo was great, I thought their tagline cute, “eat pizza, make love”, but their crust was bready and tasteless.  Not at all chewy.  It did tide me over until dinner time though.  That’s what was important.


The BnB we were in had only one read downside.  Running across the middle of the bathroom ceiling was a heavy wooden beam just above eye brow level.  I proved this height twice during the stay there.  I realize there are sometimes not good options when remodeling these old buildings but I can’t imagine something like this in America. 

...And yes, I made you wait.