Happy 13th Birthday AJ!!! Wednesday 30th September, 2009.

AJ woke wearing the beautiful silver ring he had been given a few days before, he loves it so much and keeps telling us so. He is growing up into such a lovely young man with a special sensitivity and sentimentality about him. As he enters teenage hood, I can honestly say I am very proud of the young man he has become and I love him deeply.

He opened his pressies and cards surrounded by the brightly coloured balloons I had blown up last night. We had bought him many of his favourite foods – cinghiale prosciutto and salamis, chocolate sipper straws, a few sweet treats, cinghiale bruschetta spread, black winter truffles and truffle oil I had bought in France for tonights truffle risotto, and fresh trofie pasta. I had found some wild boar salt and pepper shakers too which he wants to use every day when we return home. The card we bought him was written in Italian so we have no idea what it says, we hope the words are a nice sentiment.

He was so spoiled with love. Packages and cards had arrived from far and wide. The McKenzies sent a card, all of them had written on including little Laynee Rose, and a parcel of the latest Top Gear magazines including a ‘cool wall’ to rate your coolest/not so cool cars on the fridge using magnets – woo hoo for car fans! AJ laughed his head off at Auntie Robby’s poem and the inclusion of ‘I love Australia sickers’ – love you Robby! A huge thanks to Lorenzo for the card and treats (we all enjoyed the maltesers!) and to Toes for the wonderful hand-made/computer generated card, you guys made AJ miss home so much but made him so happy too. Our wonderful friends Jonene, Noel and kids, Trace and Jaden, Francake, Michelle, Paul and boys, Janie, Matt and tribe (loved the ecard – so appropriate), Brad, Vikk and snowboard champions – we love you all. When AJ gets home he will love the Top Gear subscription from Grandma and Papa and Linny and Pete, thanks guys and thanks for the birthday phone calls too from New Zealand and Belfast. Grandma and Grandad in Brissy called as well and caught up on the birthday news. I kept thinking what a lucky boy he is to be surrounded by so many wonderful family and friends. Marg and Rick, your parcel arrived today (gotta love the Italian administration, we had to pay 10.13 euro just to collect the parcel) filled with winter clothes which will be much needed in months to come in Luxembourg and Belgium, thanks for always being so thoughtful, we love you tremendously.

Breakfast today was traditional Italian, bombacremas, and chocolate and vanilla custard filled croissants. On our way to the beach for the afternoon, we stopped for a casual bite at our favourite pizza by the slice shop, ‘Painoteca’, their pizza is so good, we each had 2 slices of Margherita – yum!

The beach was pretty subdued but the water was as clear as a bell and there were no mysterious nibblers to scare me today, thank goodness. We stayed in the water for ages. It was funny today as patches of the water were almost luke warm while others were ice cold. Sometimes one half of our bodies basked in warmth while the other was freezing, it was so strange. AJ settled in to read his new Top Gear mag, JR went for a wander while I enjoyed lying in the warm sun. What a lovely way to spend the day, especially a 13th birthday.

We returned home to prepare the birthday feast. All of AJ’s favourites (minus osso bucco this year as we don’t have a proper oven), plus the surprise dish of black truffle risotto. JR did a wonderful job of the tomato, garlic and basil bruschetta, it was delicious served on a very serious Italian bread, sliced, basted in golden olive oil, sprinkled with salt and baked until crunchy and golden.

AJ was allowed a splash of white wine we had brought with us from Burgundy, JR had been saving it for a special occasion, it was lovely, light and lemony. It was a great marriage with the pork strozzapreti (actually pork trofi as strozzapretti pasta is not made in this region). I cooked this using saffron I had carried in my luggage just for this occasion, and without a recipe, I had to rely on memory and we agreed it was the best I had ever done, despite making do without all the kitchen comforts of home. We enjoyed a nice break before the Grandaddy of dishes, the black winter truffle risotto – WOW! I dropped a few golden drops of truffle infused oil on the top of each serving, adding an extra pungency to the jewels of black truffle throughout the dish. AJ said, “It has such a lovely creaminess of risotto and a subtle hint of truffle, it is perfect”. I love my little foodie. JR went back for seconds. I plated up a small serve, topped it with a few glistening drops of oil, covered it in foil, and delivered it to the owner of Dal Buchaniere restaurant down the street. I gave it to him, pulled off the foil and told him to smell. He said, “Ahh, the tartufo risotto, hmm”. I had told him a few days ago what I was planning to cook for AJ’s birthday, it seemed he remembered. I will go back tomorrow to collect the plate and to find out his verdict.

We were filled to the brim with good food, love and happiness. AJ said, “We didn’t have a birthday cake today, I think this is the first birthday I have had without a cake”. He wasn’t bothered but was just sharing his thoughts on his wonderful day. I left the room and soon returned with candles blazing atop a cioccolato torta, his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face – as if I would let a birthday pass without a cake to celebrate.

We ended the day with the family tournament of balloon tennis which had us rolling with laughter. Happy birthday AJ, I hope you had a ball. X

The Tufo Region of Maremma in Tuscany. Tuesday 29th September, 2009.

I had no idea when we returned to Tuscany, of just how many interesting and different regions there were all under the guise of the Tuscany name. Today we were off to the Tufo area, named so because of the tufo rock of the area.

We drove for some time, passing the lovely Scansano where we had been only days before celebrating the festival of the grape. Our first stop was at the little village of Montemarano which I had read was not to be missed. The information I had read was spot on. Montemarano was a quaint village, abundant with interesting and pretty piazzas at almost every turn. The houses often had pretty hand painted tiles welcoming those passing on the street. The piazzas were filled with pots of flowers, archways, old cobbles, fountains, neighbourhood cats, wrought iron window boxes, lovely old doors, and creepers that made their way around old doors and windows. The residents had their washing hung on lines outside their shuttered windows, just like ours in Castiglione. As we investigated the narrow lanes we saw the locals. An old lady in a typically Italian floral frock walked with her cat, talking softly to it as they went. A grey haired man with a slight stoop filled his bucket from the fountain in the Piazza and watered the thirsty plants near by. We followed the enticing aromas of cinghiale ragu and found its home where a couple had just finished eating. They spoke to us from high above as they leaned out their window overlooking the street where we walked. A little further along an old man sat in the sun outside his front door, this was the rhythm of his day and I suspect it had been for many years, he boasted to us that he was 90, he looked well for his age and I think you will find him sitting in this very spot, as long as the sun shines, for many years to come. I enjoy meeting and chatting to the locals, it always gives the places we visit so much colour.

We went inside the 14th century Chisea di San Giorgio which was pretty, its alter reminded me of a stage play with its ornate carved curtain pulled back by fat cherubs. The main street has a clatter of small shops, a local artisan of jewellery, a butcher and a specialist of local wines, coffee and food.

Before we left I stopped at the local shop to buy some cheese for our picnic today, I bought a fresh lobe of milky mozzarella and a generous wedge of salty and pale pecorino, hmm – roll on lunch time. We marvel at the general stores here. They sell so many lovely local specialities but their presentation inside and out leaves so much to be desired. Like the one today, so many are messy and disorganised. If they presented themselves like this back in Australia I am sure there would not be a customer to be seen. It all adds a local flavour though and the counter is always manned by a family member with a cheery greeting and as you leave you are always wished a happy day.

From near the shop there was a lovely vista of the hills and valleys surrounding the village. Groves of olive trees covered the rises in the hills, and a fig tree filled with green teardrop shaped fruits stood near us, just out of reach.

The next stop at the medieval village of Manciano was boring, boring, boring. I found out later that it is only visited now for its close proximity to the natural springs at Saturnia where people flock to bathe at the spa. If I were you visiting this area, I would drive on by because there is so much further up the road that will take your breath away.

Our tummies were beginning to growl, telling us it was time to look out for a picnic spot. We drove and drove until we rounded a corner to the most beautiful sight. It was a full panoramic view of the town of Pitigliano sitting on tippy-toes on an enormously high cliff of tufa stone, the cliff extended into walls of the houses made of the same cliff face, it was fascinating. All over the cliff face are caves, this area is famous for them. Many are now used for storing the local drop. More on Pitigliano later though.

We ate our picnic of focaccia bread, Tuscan prosciutto, pickled capsicums, pecorino, mozzarella, rocket leaves and tomato, it was sublime. The view of Pitigliano was our vista with a valley filled with English oak, European Ash, maple trees, hornbeams, poplars, willows and hazelnut trees, separating us from the town. The picnic and parking bay where we stopped was right beside Madonna delle Grazia.

Refueled once more, we drove past Pitigliano to come back later in the soft light late in the day, we continued onto Sorano. What a surprise this town was, it was utterly delightful and charming. There was not a word of English spoken, not even in the information office, and not a brochure in English either which was a shame. I gotta say that the French are streets ahead with catering for tourism. In almost every place we visited in France, there were English press files available, maps, brochures, everything one would need. In Italy it is a little bit more haphazard and fly by the seat of your pants, especially in the small villages which is a shame because they are so rich in history that visitors like us would like to know about the years of history before us.

We immediately loved Sorano. The town welcomes you with arches and no less than five fountains of spring water overlooking a deep, green valley running behind the town with a river running at its feet. AJ loved the cool spring water and washed his face in it; he felt weary after a belly full of lunch and needed reviving. A little shop featured work from a wood turner who uses the honey toned wood from the abundance of olive trees in the area. Inside the walls, as the afternoon wore on, local men ventured out to chat to one another as is the Italian way. It is a custom we like to watch, we like to see the local characters as they become animated with interactions. The far reaches of the town offer lovely valley views from Piazza del Poggio’s panoramic terrace. From here you can see caves dug deep into the tufa rock. It is such an interesting and unique landscape.

We had saved Pitigliano for JR’s favourite time of day, magic hour. He disappeared on arrival although AJ and I did keep seeing him as we all plotted the same course. We stood on an arched terrace at the beginning of the town, separating us from the green valley where we had lunched beside Madonna delle Grazie, it looked a picture in the far distance.

Local kids ran about the narrow streets playing chasy, stopping to drink from the flowing fountains dotted over the town, imagine never having to carry a drink bottle around. Palazo Orsini boasted a lovely courtyard with an old well and a doggy welcome from a friendly golden retriever who AJ stopped with for a while.

Gelato time again. Bar Centrale serves a beauty. JR returned to find us there and tagged his order onto ours the cheapskate! A gelato always recharges the batteries. JR had returned to tell us about a guy, Enrico Polidori, further up the road who specialises in all things to do with wild boar, AJ’s favourite, so we all headed up hill for a look. Enrico speaks not one word of English, he has specialised in wild boar for 20 years and began because it is a regional speciality that everyone loves. He has four small shops, each for a different purpose, sales, curing, drying, etc. Inside one was slabs of cinghiale marinating in wine, salt and herbs, inside another were rows of rosy pink boar meat gently swaying in a breeze made by fans that oscillated around the room, they were surrounded by so many legs of prosciutto it would have been impossible to count them. AJ chose some Coppiette Carne Cecca, thin strips of wild boar, air dried and spiced with star anise. They were so good we visited a second time for another helping. I liked them for their flavour and also, although they were air dried, they still had a tenderness about them, they were a real treat.

Along a little more I found a lovely lady sitting in the sun, sewing and doing embroidery, she had a wicker basket beside her and was happy to have a photo taken. All along the cliff side of the town, there were little vista points where you could drink in the view of the beautiful valley. Pitigliano is one of the most interesting and unique places I have seen on our travels, it’s a gem.

The lady in the tourism office at Pitigliano had told me not to miss the village of Sovana, its small with only about 100 residents. Although we were tired, we decided to visit Sovana and see what the fuss was about, we figured, if it was so small it would not take us long. The road leading into the village had an abundance of olive trees heavy with green orbs of fruit and had been recently laid with neat pavers, quite a novel sight in raggedy Italy. It was neat and reminded us of French villages, thus loosing appeal for AJ almost immediately. The sun was going down and cast a warm glow on the side of Cathedral of Saint Peter and Paul Il Duomo, which still has remains of the beginning of its creation in the 14th century. We went inside for a visit, it was unearthly and spiritual. Oposite the cathedral was a pretty garden maze and an olive grove, the sun became intensely red as it sank slowly to the ground. I picked three almost ripe figs from a tree near by. The ground around it was littered with overripe fruits that had fallen before I came. Where are you Manuella?

At the opposite end of the village stands Rocca Aldobrandesca fortress. It has stood here since the 11th century. At the bottom of its walls were two rickety picnic tables tucked under a persimmon tree. How wonderful it is to see exotic trees like this in public places that are full of fruit, knowing that one day they will be a feast for those who find them. Today the fruit was shiny and green and far from being able to be eaten, what a shame for me.

Homeward bound, we passed Pitigliano and stopped at our lunchtime picnic spot once more to admire the town as it was bathed in the night time’s golden light. What a picture it was.
Poor JR having to negotiate the twisty, narrow roads late at night, being harassed by the other drivers. We all agree we have never driven anywhere in the world that has such appalling drivers. They have no consideration for anyone else on the road; they are intimidating and abusive and display no care or concern for any of the road rules. We just tootle along and do the right thing as best we can but it is pretty hard with drivers appearing around bends with high beam blinding us. These incidents are not isolated, they are at almost every twist and turn and JR will be more than happy to hand in the car keys before our return to Rome on Saturday where our preferred mode of transport will be on foot.

A Visit to Monte Argentario. Friday 25th September 2009.

We drove about an hour south to visit the island of Monte Argentario surrounded by sparkling turquoise water. We began at Porto S. Stefano. The port area is filled with fishing boats and is fronted by stalls selling the bounty of the sea. They have stripped canvas awnings pulled down protecting the fresh fish from the sun’s rays. We walked along the palm tree lined Lungomare dei Navigatori sided by a rock wall where a local man was diving for sea urchins, he happily showed us his prized catch before placing it safely inside the mesh bag he carried.

Picnic time had arrived yet again. Today we found the most amazing little cove at Il Pozzarello. The water was clearer than clear and small fish swam happily about, in and out of the rocks. We sat on a rickety old wooden pier with our legs dangling above the sea. We made up our focaccias with fresh fillings any Italian would be proud of and enjoyed life’s simple pleasures yet again. Two elderly swimmers passed by, emerged from the water and we exchanged pleasantries. They were holidaying from Florence. Two of their family dogs looked at us longingly awaiting some of our picnic. We fed the sea birds that visited too, laughing at their antics and the bossy one who stood on the shore keeping them in order. I loved our little clear watered cove and wish I could return here every day to drink it in over and over again. I looked back longingly as we walked to the car on the road above it to try and secure how beautiful it is in my memory forever.

The next stop was Porto Ecole, a charming little seaside village with great gelato! Yes, we sat by the water enjoying our daily treat, it was just what I needed to keep me going, it was hot in the sun today. We watched the fishermen mending their nets by their old fishing boats, just as they would have years ago, their life seems simple and unhurried, I’m sure ours does to them as well. We walked along the sea wall towards its end facing the Spanish fort, Forte Filippo overlooking the village. Fishermen and women sat with lines dangling in the turquoise water, it was transparent and deep with glorious colour. AJ and I were hit by the lazy stick and kept stopping, JR however was keen to keep on the hoof so we dragged ourselves along.

The drive up to La Rocca fortress is a beautiful one, just after the turn off to La Rocca is a road with a gorgeous view of the coast from high up, the view was of paradise, dotted with boats bobbing in the bluey green expanse of water. La Rocca fortress itself is high above the town. From there we walked along a cliff-top track lined with strange cacti and wild fig trees with fruit awaiting ripening. The track led us between the fortress wall and the cliff face leading us into the old town of Porto Ercole. The streets were rough to walk with their ancient and uneven cobbles, big and small. AJ and I descended back to the port for a coffee and coke by the water while JR took some snaps.

We all enjoyed driving up to Forte Filippo, another Spanish fortress overlooking the port but from the other side. Up here we were able to walk along the outer wall in between the old moat and the outer wall giving us amazing views of Orbetello and a strip of protected land covered in pine forests and a sanctuary for bird life, called Tombolo di Feniglia. There was an old cannon at a defence post that AJ paused to look at. I could not help reminiscing about years past when he would have played imaginary games at places like this, those days are long gone.

The sun was slipping away behind the mountain tops. We drove a twisty road to Il Telegrafo, the highest point of Monte Argentario. There was no one else up there, and from the car park we slipped through a small gap in the trees. There was a rock sitting on top of the universe as if just put there for us to sit. Below us were forests of trees covering distant hills and then the water which called the red ball of the sun closer and closer until it drank it deep within. The sky turned a pale pink and we felt bathed in its colour as we sat on our rock on top of the universe.

Siena Bound. Wednesday 23rd September, 2009.

I went to get the supply of fresh, salted focaccia this morning from the store below my shutters, I am now known as Bella Signora by the lovely owner who now knows me as a regular visitor early each morning. It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining from the blue heavens above and there was just a hint of breeze.

As soon as we left Castiglione della Pescaia, the land flatted into vast agricultural plains. Today there were many fields roughly ploughed awaiting new crops, some were filled with dry sunflowers, their colour gone and their heads bowed low awaiting harvest. Distant views showed rows of dark green Cypress Pines and tall European Pines with naked trunks and full pom-pom like foliage on top, these trees are so typical of Tuscany, when I close my mind and imagine it, this is what I see.

We drove through the maze of streets in Grosseto, pointing us in the direction of Siena, our destination today. It seemed to take forever to negotiate the way and we laughed thinking there was surely a more direct course to take. We followed the main highway from Grosseto to Siena. It was dominated by road works for much of the way and we sat on a speed limit of 50 for the most part, trying to ignore hot blooded Italian drivers behind us, sitting on our tail trying to push us along. A particularly impatient bus driver overtook us entering a tunnel passing over double lines and blasting his horn, details like double lines and speed limits don’t seem to be noticed here in Italy. There was no way we were going to speed, we had already passed four speed cameras and radars, but still they pushed.

We passed so many hill-top towns, bathed in golden light against the green landscape. They were different to our last visit. Most towns had expanded and around the crumbling and character filled stone houses there were new and less attractive buildings, I like to pretend they are not there and remember things how they used to be, the Tuscany of old.

We talked about the funny cultural differences and I began to wonder how difficult it was for Italian immigrants to settle into Australia with our clearly defined rules and regulations that are mostly obeyed by all. The chaos definitely has a charm of its own here, parts of it which we love and embrace.

It was a special moment to arrive in Siena’s enchanting Il Campo and have AJ by our sides; the last time we were here we were only two. I knew he would love it, its rich rusted colours, its old facades and the intricate embellishments adorning the buildings that are so Sienese. Il Campo was filled with happy faces. As our picnic was so successful yesterday sitting on the cattedrale steps overlooking the piazza in Massa-Marittima, we decided that we would enjoy another prime location picnic on the Il Campo. We have named this style of picnic ‘Piazza Picnic’ and they are a highlight of our days in Italy. We sat, surrounded by hungry pigeons, at the lower end of the shell shaped Campo and made up this morning’s purchase of foccacias with rocket, tomato, salami, buffalo mozzarella and a scant sprinkling of Guerande sea salt which we have carried around with us since visiting Brittany in June. We were so happy enjoying the simple pleasures of sun, family, and simple food, in one of the world’s most beautiful cities – this is living.
We sat for what seemed like eternity feeding the pigeons and laughing as they ran over our feet in frenzies as they honed in on every crumb we offered, we were in no rush and had all day and night to explore so we weren’t hassled by the pressures of hurrying through the list of tourist sites. Our carefully planned picnic saw us only having to carry around a small bag of salt and two knives for the day. We have been practicing random acts of kindness on each other today which has been fun and has seen us offering each other the last slice of buffalo mozzarella and salami, offering to carry bags, me making up the focaccias for lunch etc.

We headed to Cattedrale di Siena, to show AJ one of my favourite cathedrals in all of Europe. He also loved its blue cupola decorated with golden stars. He marvelled at the frescoes in the library and stood studying them deep in thought. He had to check from below the ceilinged frescoes, that the pillars of marble were in fact only paintings; I think it made him appreciate the skill involved in painting these beautiful pieces. He and I sat and he shared his thoughts on the creation of life, he has such an enquiring mind and he constantly searches for answers and does it in a mature way for his twelve years. I am very proud of him, I always have been, but even more so as I watch him change and develop into his own person as each day passes. It is only one week until he will be thirteen. Time passes and memories are made.

The three of us struggle with the time consumed by JR and his passion for his photography. AJ and I feel he misses out on so much of our family journey as he is often on his quest to capture everything in an image. It s a difficult problem and is a constant source of questioning by us all. I absolutely support his passion and everywhere we go, AJ and I wave him goodbye for an hour or two here and there for him to be able to immerse himself in what he loves. I actually enjoy seeing him walk away with pep in his step, knowing he can be in his own headspace and see the world through his lens without distraction. On the other hand, when we are all together, we miss his interactions with us as he disappears into his own little world and snaps away. Everywhere you look there are always beautiful images to capture so even when he says he will put the camera away, he is always torn between being with us and doing what he loves. We still search for a solution, maybe there is not one to be found.

AJ and I said goodbye to JR at 5pm and arranged to meet back in the Campo at 7pm giving him hours of photography fun in his beloved magic hour of the day. JR climbed to the top of the Torre del Mangia overlooking the Campo. It reaches 83 metres into the sky after a climb of 400 steps. I could not believe it as AJ and I sat below people watching, I saw JR at the very top of the tower waving his arms above his head as he tried to attract our attention, it was pure chance I looked up to see him there. AJ passed the time, blissfully happy, people watching and laughing together, we had a ball together.

By 7 we were all together again, we secured a front row table to watch the happenings on the Campo as we ate dinner. Most of the tourists were gone; a lone busker sat and played the bongo drums whose sounds echoed across the Campo and back. We all at a simple salsiccia pizza as the sky turned navy blue with the odd twinkling star. The buildings became bathed in golden light which was soft and warm. As we left the Campo, I turned for one last look at this place I love; I left with my heart filled with forever memories.

Tuscan Towns. Tuesday 22nd September, 2009.

As promised our car was at the ESSO station this morning and before long we were sorted with wheels to begin discovering the beautiful Maremma region. We were happy to hopefully have all of the settling in administration completed at long last.

There is no parking inside the city walls of Castiglione della Pescaia so we parked a little way outside and walked a few minutes to our apartment, passing the pasticceria who sells the delightful bombacremas we enjoyed the other day. We took three home for morning tea, AJ was so happy. JR popped on a pot of coffee and we settled in for a treat.

I bought a fresh supply of bread and focaccia at the store almost below our bedroom windows, packed a picnic and before long we were off in our little silver Fiat Punto to get acquainted with the Metalliferous Hills area of The Maremma in beautiful Tuscany. The south of Tuscany is a little different to the Chianti region where we had stayed years before. Down here it is a little more wild and unkept, tousled and straggly looking. The Metalliferous Hills are a happy mix of grape vines, some still yet to be harvested, and olive trees which appear darker than those in Provence.

We drove completely around the village of Scarlino, perched high on a hill commanding the greatest of views to beyond and back. Not far from here was Gavorrano, anchored with old, old stone to the sides of Mount Calvo, also with vast views from the hills to the sea. We went deep into the Centro Storico area, enjoying our voyeuristic ways, looking in on small village life for a while. Cats meowed at our passing, posing for photos as if trained. Locals appearing in their windows always greeted us with a cheery greeting and smile, as we did to them.

It was time to look for a picnic spot en route to our next stop at Massa-Marittima snuggled inside the hills and forests that abound. We will forever be thankful for our wonderful picnic spots in Australia, there is a real lack in Europe. There was nothing suitable between towns so we parked the car just outside the city walls of Massa-Marittima where we had spotted a grassy ledge where we could sit with a panoramic view of the world below, it looked like paradise. We traipsed over, loaded up with picnic supplies and to our dismay there was dog poop absolutely everywhere. It must be a popular spot for walkies!

Never to be defeated we took the steps leading to the heights of the old town. I rounded the corner up the top to such a breathtaking sight, Massa-Marittima was jaw-droppingly gorgeous and it reminded me of Siena, my favourite Tuscan town in so many ways – the steep steps leading to the Cattedrale de S. Cerbone where AJ and I got scolded for taking photos. We decided to keep the rather vocal lady on her toes and had her following us around making sure we were behaving which of course we were.

Back to the picnic... on arriving in Piazza Garibaldi with picnic supplies in hand, there was only one choice of where to eat, right here we decided. We climbed the 20 or so stone steps in front of the Cattedrale and there we ate. I made up crusty Italian rolls and foccacias filled with prosciutto, buffalo mozzarella and slices of ripe tomato; it was so simple and so good. The new butter I bought was snowy white, it is called Burro Dolcepanna, and I will have to learn more about why it is so very white, I am thinking it may be a baking butter??? I am sure we were no end of amusement for the diners at the restaurants and cafes on the far side of the piazza, meanwhile we were laughing at ourselves and how funny we must have looked as we sat high and mighty overlooking all.

Beside the 12th century stone Cattedrale was the Museo Archeologico and its facade became my most special part of the village. Its frontage was inlayed with beautiful tile like plaques, there were many of them, all different. I found out they were family plaques belonging to families that lived in the judicial palace long ago.

We had a gloriously creamy gelato at Bar Centrale, AJ’s was enormous and was filled with the smoothest chocolate and stracciatella gelato flavours. I am back on the fragola trail now that I have become acquinted again with my old favourite flavour. I feel so lucky to be enjoying the simple things in life, it is wonderful and so enriching for our little family.

JR took off for some photo time while AJ and I wandered up via Moncini, and out beyond the city walls passing Torre del Candeliere. Piazza Matteotti, although a bit derelict looking, gave the best views of Massa-Marittima and her collection of terracotta roofs, light and dark in colour. The day was hazy which gave its own special kind of mystique.

Our next destination was Roccastrada where we trekked the narrow streets enjoying a sticky nose at whatever we discovered. Ornella called to check that all was alright with the car and internet, I assured her it was and she said she had felt terrible about the trouble; it is all behind us now and not a worry. We whiled away the remains of the day in Roccastrada, watching the sun turn fiery red as it hung low and weary in the Tuscan sky.

Village voices drifted up to our apartment tonight carried on the night time breeze. Smooth jazz played at the bar around the corner, from the Guru bar where we drank the other night. Castiglione has a great feel to it, it has life and soul and we just love it here.

From Bad To Worse. Monday 21st September, 2009.

I came home armed with a small cob of salted Italian bread and a slab of salt and olive oil foccacia this morning, we enjoyed them lightly toasted, mine with sweet honey.

We arrived at the ESSO service station; about 20 minutes walk from home, by 11ish. We weren’t surprised our hire car wasn’t there as Claudia had promised. The guy in charge had no idea about it either, our lack of language skills made it difficult to explain that the hire car had been organised and we were to collect it here today. We had to stock the house with food and had been waiting to pick up the car to do so. As the supermarket was nearby, we decided to do the shopping and haul it home between the three of us which worked out fine.

It was so different supermarket shopping in Italy in comparison to France. JR was amazed at the amount of shelf space dedicated to different things. There is next to no bread where in France it dominates an entire wall. The range of mozzarella, buffalo and otherwise, takes up miles of the fridge section, breakfast cereal is almost nonexistent with only two choices, a variety of cornflakes and a box of something similar to coco pops, that’s it. Oh well, we will have to carry on the Italian breakfast habit of a bombacrema pastry (we had our first on the way to the supermarket today – OMG, memories flooded back to Hotel Regno breakfasts from two years ago!)

So, we arrive home fuming, no car, and the promised delivery of the internet key that was supposed to arrive yesterday still is not here – NOT HAPPY JAN! We get that Claudia is a lovely scatterbrain and is less than organised but this does nothing to calm us. We are all a tad snippy especially after both transport and internet access had been clearly arranged on acceptance of our home-exchange.

We composed an email, JR had to find an alternative internet cafe to use as the one he used yesterday is closed on Mondays. The new one required a scan of his passport and charged through the nose for only 10 minutes. Anyway, the email was sent asking Claudia to sort out the car hire and internet access as previously agreed and email us asap with a clear solution.
On top of this, JR had taken both AJ’s and my French mobiles to the phone shop to recharge them, surprise, surprise – they were locked and will not work outside of France. We were furious! We had specifically requested they be unlocked when we purchased them as we would be all over the place this year.

Luckily I had my Aussie mobile floating around so we took that back to the phone shop (much later as they only returned from siesta at 4) and were able to get it sorted after some delay as the lady in the mobile phone shop had no internet at the time so could not activate my new number, JR wondered out loud if we were in a third world country.

Mobile phone in hand and internet cafe now closed not allowing us to check Claudia’s response to our email with what to do about the car in the morning, I called Claudia and she was so apologetic. I really don’t think she means any harm at all, she is just terribly disorganised. We were able to share with her that the internet key had arrived at long last, the fact that it will not be activated until midday tomorrow is the least of our worries, we are just happy it is here and is another thing we can cross of the list. She assures me that the hire car will be at ESSO in the morning by 9.30 so fingers crossed all will be well.

AJ had requested risotto for dinner so I created a little recipe that goes like this:

Sautee two finely chopped onions in a sliky combination of fruity olive oil and melted butter, cook them gently with three cloves of finely chopped garlic, 12 year old sons do this job the best. When the onions are soft, remove the casings from four salsiccia sausages bought from the lovely Signora at the local Italian grocer, and separate the meat into small pieces, add them to the onions and garlic which will have filled the house with inviting aromas. Let the sausage cook through and firm up a little, give it time to brown a bit too. Add a generous supply of Arborio rice and stir it making sure it becomes shiny as it is coated with the olive oil, butter and juice from the sausage. I poured in a good splash (or maybe two) of bianco wine I bought from the supermarket which comes in a tetra pack like fruit juice, I paid a whole 1.15 euro (don’t be shocked) and stirred it into the rice on a relatively high heat until it was almost gone entirely. My pot of hot chicken stock was simmering away on the back of the stove and I ladled this into the rice bit by bit, JR and I took turns stirring. The rice became creamy and tender. I added a dollop of rich mascarpone (not a patch on my home made stuff) and too many calories of reggiano cheese, mixed it all together and called AJ in for a taste test. I gotta admit it was pretty damn fine even if I do say so myself.

It was JR’s treat for gelato dessert so we piled out the door and down the street to join the families wandering up and down the main street on which we live.
I look forward to seeing what tomorrow brings...

Our Rain Soaked Village. Sunday 20th September, 2009.

The piazza below our shuttered windows came to life before we did this morning. The rain was constant although at times it waned to a light shower before returning back to heavy downpours. The sky was a solemn and steely grey and it rumbled with thunder as AJ slept and JR and I put on a pot of coffee. Our lounge room overlooks terracotta tiled roofs and they became deeper in colour and shone, taking on a reflective surface that would disappear when the rain was over and the sun returned to Tuscany.

Every so often I would wander to our bedroom, open the window and watch the umbrellas passing below. Welcoming smells of pizzas and sauces wafted up from the restaurant lined streets, I was getting hungry. Italian radio played somewhere outside and drifted into our room, James Blunt sang his familiar songs and it was so nice to hear an English song after so long.

I can’t remember if I mentioned that my computer was fixed in Provence by the lovely Frank at Cie and Co in Nyons. My emails have been downloaded but not all of them and it is only now I am realising the implications of the loss of some of my data. I have to find a way to retrieve the email address for our Venice exchange in October; it has been a while since our last contact. I have an empty contact list and only have email addresses from my most recent emails. I am sure we will find a solution; I think JR worries a little more than I, I remain optimistic that it will work out fine using a little nouse.

It was well into siesta time when we left the house, still with the rain falling around us. Dal Buchaniere, the restaurant where JR and I ate last night was still open so the three of us wandered in and before long we were sharing an authentic pizza with a floury crust, topped with a rich tomato sauce, mozzarella and spicy salami, simple and beautiful. I followed with a risotto of gamberi and funghi, mama mia life is good.

I am sure you are all wondering if and when we will make our mark on Casteglioni to ensure the town will never forget us. The incident happened today during lunch. Our pitcher of red wine arrived along with a jug of water. I filled our water glasses while the waiter fluffed around us taking away things from the table that three diners would not need. He went to take AJ’s very fancy, goblet style water glass away. He lifted it, looked inside, shrugged his shoulders, smiled and off he went. We ate our delicious lunch and lingered for ages, chatting about AJ returning home to high school and all about the fun he had with the local kids last night. He went to take a sip of his water and said, “Why have I got a candle in my drink?” I immediately went into fits of laughter as I realised what I had done to him. I had filled the candle holder with water which AJ had been sipping from during the course of our lunch, he only realised there was a tea light in it just before we were ready to leave; gosh it was funny. The staff all laughed along, I suspect the waiter had told the others and they were waiting to see when our faux pas would be noticed. I am so glad we are able to provide entertainment to the locals wherever we go.

We spent the afternoon exploring the Centro Storico area of Castiglione taking advantage of a break in the rain. AJ had been up to the highest part of the village belonging to a castle and a maze of cobbled streets lined with atmospheric restaurants, so he was our guide. Along the way he shared with us the stories of mischief he and the kids got up to on Saturday night, it took me back a few years that’s for sure. We found bushes of wild rosemary and noted where they were for the nights we cook JR’s rosemary potatoes. Coming back down into the main street of the village we all devoured our first Italian gelato, my mint and strachiatello was the perfect combination and the girl behind the counter was a doll. Come to think of it, all of the locals so far have been wonderful, warm and welcoming.

We cooked Claudia’s pasta dish for dinner, crescents of al dente pasta tossed with olive oil, salt, blushing tomatoes that tasted so wonderful and juicy, teardrops of snow white boconccini and olives that AJ depipped that were as black as night.

Tuscany Bound at Last. Saturday 19th September, 2009.

Darling and lovable Claudia seems to live a life of casual and stylish chaos, her mobile phone never stops, and I get the feeling she puts out fires as she has to and deals with things as they become worthy of her attention. We had planned to leave for Tuscany between 10 and 11 and were out the door just before 1pm after JR patiently sat with her and booked a few legs of her Aussie travels in preparation for when she arrives in Oz . AJ was excited to be driving through the crazy Roman traffic at last, he sat in the back seat with a grin plastered across his face, happy as larry to be in Italy and on his way to Tuscany. His heart has always belonged to Italy since his first visit with us a few years ago.

Castiglione della Pescaia is beautiful. Claudia thinks it has a population of about 5000 both inside and outside of the medieval city walls. Like so many other Tuscan villages and towns, it sits on a hilltop, a castle and clock tower at its height. The added bonus is that it is seaside with miles of beach to explore and a busy and quite large fishing port. We are all brimming with excitement at our new exchange for the next two weeks. Claudia treats AJ like a Grandson, spoiling him with treats, whatever his heart desires and she loves that he loves it. She took us to her favorite local pizza place and would absolutely not allow us to pay. She finished with a ciambella (sugar covered doughnut), giving into her sweet tooth, and brought a chocolate bombacrema to the table for AJ, he is so spoiled. We drove to a nearby beach to meet her friend Katrina. She was sunbaking with friends and came onto the cafe’s terrace for a quick introduction and coffee. Katrian is our local contact if we need help with anything during our stay. She has a thick smoky voice and is brown and a berry which is quite the norm here on the Italian coast.

Our Castiglione apartment is nice and clean, Claudia shares my need for cleanliness which makes me happy. On arrival she opens the windows and shutters which overlook the piazza below with is beginning to bustle with late afternoon meetings of locals. She hasn’t organised the dongle for our internet connection despite previous communication telling us she will show us the internet connection on our arrival, now we have to await her friends delivery of it, who knows when that will be. I emphasise our need for internet as previously discussed with her. She led us to believe it was all organised – maybe in her mind awaiting the delivery of a dongle from her friend (whenever), is a version of organisation and just differs from ours. Our car exchange agreement has been changed also which is not really a drama, it is just that it is Saturday now and our hire car will not be delivered to Castiglione until Monday, leaving us village bound for tomorrow. We think it will be a great opportunity to explore our new home and surroundings so we are not too worried, we are beginning to learn that this is Claudia and her ways, and it fits in with the Italian way perfectly – it is us who have to adjust and that will come with time in our new host country.
We wave goodbye and give Claudia kisses as she leaves to drive back to Rome. We all adore her and her discombobulated ways. We look forward to spending one night with her when we return to Rome.

AJ has a choice of 4 beds to sleep in in his room with its green shutters opening out over the busy piazza just like ours. AJ is keen to get on Claudia’s bike and go exploring so JR and I take part in the very Italian pastime of an evening stroll up and down the busy via. He keeps running into us and seems a bit down. He sees kids out with their friends and I think it reinforces the feeling of loneliness for him. He loves us I know but we are no substitute for his friends. We show him his boundaries around the streets inside the walls and at one end he is allowed to cross the main road on a pedestrian crossing giving him accesss to the pier area and promenade along the beachfront, it will be great for him and safe I am sure.

We arranged to meet back at our piazza at 7.30 and to our surprise AJ arrived with Manuel, a boy his age. They had met in the nearby square. We were going for dinner but AJ was keener to meet a few local kids so off he went with 10 euros in his pocket and pep in his step. Manuel was eating with a group of 12 and 13 year olds, celebrating one of the girl’s 13th birthday. AJ joined in and was allowed out until 10.30 as long as he was with the group. As it turned out, we saw him a few times as we wandered around the village after an amazing dinner of our own consisting of salsicia pizza and spaghetti carbonara. I love Italian food! AJ’s curfew extended out a few times as we bumped into each other. We could see the kids were having innocent fun, running around the streets, up and down from the castle, and he was so happy. He called it quits just after 11 after his new friend was picked up, he was buggered. He caught up with us sitting at a roadside bar, on padded bench seats, I had the remains of a tall Pina Colada on the table. He shared his adventures with us. We were all so happy in our new home, the next chapter in our wonderful adventure making France a faraway, but no less wonderful memory.