Lakeside (Lucca then Firenze, Milano, Varenna)

Another day, another series of cooking lessons. It can't be called a cooking class, dear reader, because so much is going on and we prep for a number of different meals. After the last couple of days, a slower pace was welcome. Breakfast was around 8am and food prep commenced around 10am.

Today's creation included two different styles of gnocchi (still not a fan), focaccia, stuffed zucchini flowers and tiramisu.

The focaccia.

The gnocchi.

The tiramisu.

After another 'light' lunch, we drove to Devil's Bridge or Ponte della Maddalena. It's a remarkable structure and comes steeped in mythology. Apparently the builder of the bridge was having issues and struck the usual, 'I pledge my soul' deal with Satan. On completing the bridge he was to make payment and Satan would take his soul. He confessed to a local priest who told him to send a pig across the bridge first. Apparently the Devil himself was so outraged he threw himself off the bridge and was never seen again. Seems feasible.

Ponte della Maddalena or the Devil's Bridge.

Then it was back into Lucca for a shopping opportunity for those who wanted it, or a chance to have a sneaky pre-wine tasting drink. You'll never guess what we chose. About 12 twelve of us descended on this cool little bar and enjoyed an Aperol Spritz or something of that ilk.

The wine tasting was held a short walk from the bar and showcased local wines from Lucca and Monte Carlo. No, not that one, dear reader. You were presented with a coupon for three large pour wine tastings and one for an olive oil. We didn't get to the olive oil because we needed to be at dinner. The numerous wines were a bit of a mystery so it was guess work. The first option was to try a wine that was recommended, a white, and it was tad too fruity for me. The next wine was selected on the basis of it being the most expensive at €29 and a 2019 vintage. Price does not always indicate quality and it certainly didn't here. The third wine was selected by its name, some religious thing linked to Marian. Finally, a winner.

Dinner was a brief stroll away down some small alleyway and into a piazza. The restaurant, Osteria da Pasquale, occupied the entire space. Pasquale is now considered a friend of Matt's as he has been bringing groups here for so long. There are a few tables inside and a cellar that also contains a table for a small group. The wine flowed and the food was excellent, as you would expect. 

Again there were a lot of people turned away - no reservation, no table. Another member of our group was told by other diners that they arrived for their dinner, took one look at our large group that they assumed were Americans and were about to depart until they heard our accents.

Intimate dining in the cellar.

It was another late night and some of our group kicked on. We opted for bed. Too many 11:30pm finishes combined with early mornings were taking their toll.

Our group being addressed by Pasquale.

The next day was more relaxed; a leisurely start followed by lunch at a local winery and the final afternoon of food prep, making egg yolk raviolo with burnt butter and sage. The bistecca was also going onto the grill.

Seems an appropriate name after all the food this week.

The wine tasting consisted of 5 glasses of wine, one white and 4 reds. It was accompanied by a light lunch. Like that even exists in Italy.  We commenced with the usual bread and olive oil, followed by smoked salmon on bread with a salad. Then we were presented with a selection of meats and three types of crostini topped with olive tapenade, mushroom and a spicy capsicum mix. This was followed by pecorino cheese and a local honey. Sigh. And we were going back to the villa to have dinner.

The raviolo production line.

 The bistecca pre-cook.

Arty shot of the steaks on the BBQ.

Dinner was scheduled for 7:30pm How I laughed. We actually sat down closer to 9pm. The bistecca presented a problem because the coals in the BBQ were too hot and the steaks kept catching fire. Ultimately they concluded their cooking journey in the oven. The raviolo were a major success and the tiramisu was as always very popular. All finished off with a limoncello and another 11:30pm bed time.

Dinner service with our three hosts,

Tomorrow is a transit day. Most of us are on the 10:32am train to Florence, some bound for Pisa and elsewhere in Tuscany, others to head to Rome and home. We are catching three trains, yay, first to Florence, then to Milan and finally to Varenna.

The transit
Well, dear reader, once again we had a relatively smooth transit day. The travel gods must be smiling on us. Most of our group were deposited at Lucca station around 9:30am to discover that the information boards had ceased to operate at 6:35am and we had no idea what platform our train was leaving from. Jayne and Karen queued at the ticket office to pose the question that so many had apparently asked already. Platform 4 was the weary reply. Off we all set.

The train was late, of course. There were no announcements save for the change of platform from 4 to 3. Thankfully this required movement of a few metres and did not mean negotiating the stairs with our bags again. The last handle of my bag is all that lies between it and disposal.

Finally the train arrived, 35 minutes late although it made up some time on the way to Florence. Here we bid everyone a fond farewell and went to the ticket office to see what time our train was leaving and to ask questions about the nationwide rail strike on October 2. The Frecciarossa to Milan was late and would mean we were cutting it fine with our connection to Varenna. As for the strike, who knows. The staff were unaware. We will check again closer to the actual date.

The journey to Milan provided some amusement. It's fashion week so there were some young and beautiful influencers with their oversized suitcases, presumably full of clothes. Amusing to watch them looking helpless hoping for assistance - and it always came. However, the Pomeranian that was released from its carry cage provided the most entertainment. It barked at anyone walking past as if it owned the aisle. One lady was clearly concerned about walking past it. The owner picked it up and tried to quieten it down but it kept struggling against him and whining and yapping. I've seen plenty of dogs on trains over here and this is the first time I've seen one misbehave.

We arrived in Milan, armed with the knowledge that our connecting train to Varenna was leaving from Platform 5. We pulled in on Platform 4 to see our train waiting for us. We had about 10 minutes to spare. Nice. Straight into the first carriage - a regional train but a more modern version of the others we have been on. This had some storage space behind the seats and luggage racks that could actually fit a suitcase.

Varenna was another hour and 4 stations away. We settled in and checked out where we had to pick up our key. A mere 6 minute walk from the station. Too easy. Off the train, we opted for the stairs with the luggage because we couldn't get near the lift down to the tunnel, but we did use the lift on the other side to get to the street level. Then it was a bag drag over cobblestones and the occasional smooth road to the Varenna Holidays where we collected our keys (made it to the office with 20 minutes to spare before closing time).

The ferry terminal

The lake from our balcony.

Our accommodation wasn't quite across the road but it wasn't far away. Two flights of stairs to negotiate and the remaining handle on my suitcase snapped. To summarise: I lost two tyres arriving in Manilla, I lost the remaining two arriving in Rome, the smaller handle snapped arriving in Lucca and now in Varenna the other handle decided it was too much for one and joined its compatriot. There will be a new case purchased in Milan next week before it disintegrates entirely.

The way to finish a transit day.

Anyway, we're here lakeside, in this picture perfect, postcard village. The perfect segue to today's title, Lakeside by Australian Crawl from 1981. 

A quick trip to the local store for some supplies (read wine) followed by dinner and wine on the balcony with the view across the lake. To cap off the almost faultless transit day, the good people of Varenna put on a fireworks display to welcome us, thankfully before we had retired to bed.

Benvenuto.

Alla prossima

I am the Walrus (Lucca, Livorno, Vernazza, Porto Venere)

After a full day exploring, we were pretty ready for bed, dear reader, as the next day was another early start. Immediately after breakfast, we were on the move again; this time, a forty minute drive to the town of Livorno. Here we were to go shopping at the Mercato for all manner of produce in preparation for cooking classes over the next few days.

The market entrance.

The aim was to arrive reasonably early to avoid the crowds and ensure the items on the existing shopping list would still be available. It was Saturday and things would sell out, not to be replenished until early the next week. This was evident in the seafood section where two merchants had already sold out, their display fridges empty.

A place to sit and enjoy a coffee.

First stop was a coffee and after that pick me up, we wended our way through the meat section to select a massive piece of bistecca and then headed for the fish mongers where much deliberation and discussion ended in the purchase of three large fish for tonight's dinner. They were probably sea bass. The price of the seafood surprised me, there were uncooked tiger prawns that were €40 a kg.

Anyone for an eel or two?

Then we headed out of the covered Mercato to the open air produce markets to secure various vegetables, zucchini flowers, 3 kinds of tomatoes... we were quite surprised here because we thought Italian etiquette has always been that you do not touch the produce - you let the vendor select what you want. Here we were handed paper bags to fill for weighing.

Fresh fruit and veg as far as the eye can see.

With this part of the shopping list sorted, we headed back inside to go to the egg providore to buy special eggs with more solid membranes, suitable for poaching (who knew these existed?) and some other eggs for pasta making later in the week. I have never seen egg shells so white.

The egg man (and woman) not the walrus.

I am the Walrus by The Beatles was an obvious choice of song title for today. If you are too young to understand, click on the link.

Then it was off to the olive oil guy for a tasting of his prize winning oil as well as one infused with oranges. The other taste sensation came from a pistachio paste - think Nutella but green. I bought a bottle of the olive oil and will now wrestle with the concept of using it before we head home or tucking it away in the suitcase.

The good oil.

Then we wound back to collect the gutted and cleaned fish and the bistecca after which it was time to drive back to the villa for a cooking class using some of the produce, to create a multi-course dinner for this evening.

Bistecca.

Lunch after shopping.

We were warned that tomorrow would be a big day with an early start so it would be advisable to retire earlier that we had been. Good advice, except that the 'light' dinner became 6 courses and we were still eating dessert after 11pm! Very Italian, I'm sure.

Zucchini flowers.

The sea bass pre-salting.

The salted fish going into the fire.

Dinner service.

Anyway, after an 11:30 pm bedtime, we were on the road the next day at 7:30am, stopping briefly for breakfast at a roadside café. We deftly managed to beat a busload of tourists inside by entering thorough the exit to order our coffee and pastries first. While Jayne was ordering our coffees, the server asked what kind we wanted and she replied, espresso, not Americano which met with loud appreciation from the bus driver who happened to standing behind her.

Once fed, not that we needed it, we headed back to the vans to continue the 90 minute drive to La Spezia where we would catch a sardine tin, I mean train, to Cinque Terre, specifically to Vernazza, the fourth town. Again the early start was to beat the crowds as it was a Sunday.

All went to plan with the drive and the parking and then we headed to the train station to buy tickets to board the train. The ticket queue wasn't too bad but then we went to platform 2 which was already extremely crowded and only became more so as we waited for the train to arrive.

The train was a peak hour crush and required the Tokyo 'pushers' to get people on board. The doors kept trying to close and people pulled them back open. We were travelling in a group of 21 and split into two groups and hit either end of the same carriage. Matt had all of the tickets on one receipt but it was obvious there would be no ticket check on the train. I squeezed on, the doors closed and then they opened again another three or four times as more people crammed into other carriages.

There were no unoccupied seats and the end part of the carriage was blocked at the top of the steps by two women who were clearly not moving to allow anyone else access to the standing room in that aisle. Riomaggiore was the first stop and the first of the five lands. Happily the entire end of the train, including the blockade women, departed. It was one tour group. We moved quickly to the comfort of the seats and relaxed until Vernazza.

Across the bay to the church.

We had some time to wander around or go swimming. We opted for a hydrating beer, dear reader, the more sensible option. While we were sitting and chatting with others from our group, a woman at the next table kept turning to look at us. Weird, I thought. When they stood to leave, the three of them came over and asked if we were Kiwis. The matriarch of the group was originally from New Zealand and couldn't quite tell if we were Kiwis or Aussies. She now resides in Seattle and her daughter and granddaughter also live in the US but in the Carolinas. This was a girls' reunion tour, with the matriarch driving the car from Switzerland to Italy.

Enticing.

Acclimatisation done, we walked back to the train station and checked out the shops on the way back down to the water. A swim was tempting as the heat rose and the water looked more and more inviting, but no. We opted for a seat in the shade and looked up at the mountainside and all the walkers coming in from Monterosso, the fifth town. I even pulled up the blog post from that fateful day Jayne decided to indulge me and walk from one town to the other. I'm still laughing, in a positive, supportive way. After a quick look inside the church. It was dark and unremarkable except for the cat ensconced on the front pew.

A comment on the sermon perhaps.

You are never far from a feed or drink on a tour with Matt and lunchtime came around quickly. Our restaurant was La Belforte, famous for its view. The food and service were excellent as well. Watching the vapid and vacuous climb the stairs, gape at the view and then be told no reservation, no seat, was the best fun I'd had all day. One woman, clearly miffed, whined, "but I only decided this morning". So sad. No seat for you. Or the 20 others who were turned away while we were there.

The restaurant is the top deck.

Happily there was no train ride back; we caught the ferry to Porto Venere and had a relaxing afternoon admiring the villages clinging to the cliffside. We were able to identify the apartment we stayed in at Riomaggiore back in 2017.

Riomaggiore.

The sun was shining, the sky was blue and there was not a cloud in sight. Our day at Cinque Terre was perfect. Porto Venere was a delightful seaside town with some serious fortification and we had some time to kill as Matt, Drew and Alex stayed on the ferry back to La Spezia and were driving from there to pick us up.

The church and castle.

After a walk to the church and the castle we discussed our options. A toilet was my first priority and I was amazed, dear reader, to find a no-charge toilet and then devastated to discover it was a squat. Ahh, memories of working in China.

Eventually a number of us gathered by the water's edge at a bar and enjoyed a beer and chat before the vans arrived to drive us back to Lucca. There was no need for dinner, but we had a 'light' meal anyway. Then bed. Bliss. It was a long day, a 7:30am start and we arrived back around 8pm. Bed was most welcome.

Alla prossima.

Fall (Lucca, Pisa, Viareggio)

Day three dawned bright and clear under blue Tuscan skies for our morning trip to Pisa, dear reader. Our planned departure time was reasonably early as the drive to Pisa was about half an hour. The aim was to arrive before both the crowds and the heat of the day.

We drove through the more modern outer suburbs and parked just outside the area where our target, the Square of Miracles lay. The walk in was lined by the usual restaurants, followed by the ubiquitous markets, flogging all the same merchandise - just rebranded to reflect the current town. 

You'll never guess where we are.

We gathered at an archway that led through a high wall, to be given our instructions - guided tour starting at 10am so 40 minutes to wander around by ourselves. We elected to go straight through the arch to take some photos at our leisure and before anymore tour groups arrived to swarm the area. 

In we went to the Square and immediately, we were struck by a number of grand buildings, all made of light coloured stone and set in the middle of roped off, pristine lawns. One was clearly a cathedral but the first round building, while religious, was not the usual church structure. 

Leaning but not the tower.

As we walked along the path gazing around, we were immediately assailed by 'string men' who were quite aggressively approaching people, pushing their bracelets at anyone who stopped. We told them to go away in no uncertain terms and then happily we were left alone to wander further in to the square.

Almost immediately our eyes were drawn past the two grand structures to groups of people who were busily posing for photos, bodies turned to the side with their 2 arms held out in the air. Why? Because behind them lurched the legendary structural failure - the leaning tower. It rose precariously from behind the cathedral, providing a backdrop for the photo opportunity ritual of pretending to hold it up. We later learnt that photos taken from the other side, required the alternate pose to portray pushing the tower over.

The side of the Cathedral and THAT tower.

After a quick face time call home, we headed back through the string men and the ever increasing crowds to the archway to rejoin the rest of the group and our tour guide, Andrea.

The pulpit.

Andrea, an animated guide, is an ex-pat Spaniard who has lived in Pisa for 18 years and has clearly embraced being a Pisa local. She regaled us with stories about the legendary Pisa-Firenze rivalry and the resulting one upmanship that went on with the architecture and defence of the city. Apparently the hostilities are alive and well today, much like Barcelona and Madrid. Or Sydney and Melbourne.

The tour guide was very engaging and explained the name of the square is not as a result of supernatural happenings but simply because of a renowned Italian poet's description of the place. We then heard about the magnificent buildings - the Baptistry with John the Baptist on top of the dome, go figure. 

The big three, Baptistry, Cathedral and tower.

The cathedral predates the Magna Carta and the building extensions were an attempt to try to outdo the other European powers. The pulpit is sculpted from a single piece of marble and there are the usual massive works of art, lots of gold, an impressive Medici ceiling and a second floor for female worshippers.

Looking toward the altar.

Then of course, there is the tower. You know, the leaning one. The original architect of the tower never recorded his name because, once the third level (out of six plus a bell tower) was complete,  he finally realised his major stuff up. Another architect took up the challenge some centuries later and added on the top three tiers before he died. 

I did not join the queue to climb to the top.

Additional "experts" have tried to stabilise/correct the lean (over 4 degrees) by removing soil from around the base which actually worsened the lean and then later excavations tilted the tower back to its original lean. The result is that the tower is now known to wobble, not lean - doesn't quite have the same ring to it but, whatever ... In fact the entire precinct of the Miracle Square has leaning buildings, not just the tower because the square is built on a swamp. Not all are so obvious to the eye because they lack the height, but they all lean.

Above the altar.

In between the Cathedral and the Tower there was a fallen angel, hence today's title Fall by Leonardo's Bride, "I feel just like a fallen angel".

The fall from grace.

After the tour, we left the square and retraced our footsteps to a delectable pizzeria where we enjoyed three types of pizza in Pisa. Also the mandatory Aperol spritz. Proper Napoli style pizza, not that Roman thin and crispy rubbish. Lunch done, we headed back to the vans and drove back to our Tuscan villa for some down time before our afternoon/evening excursion to the coast.

Mid-afternoon, we were off to the coastal town of Viareggio which no doubt attracts hoards of summer holidayers to its wide main board walk, lined with shops, restaurants and beautiful people. Happily, the summer holidays are over and the throngs were much diminished, even allowing for it being a Friday evening.

The promenade.

We were set free to wander for an hour and a half with the instruction to come back to the top end of the street and to proceed along the wharf until we would come across a memorial to lost sailors. We were NOT to go up over the footbridge but to walk adjacent to it and our rendez-vous time was 6pm.

We all 'dispersed' in roughly the same direction along the boardwalk, and some made it only as far as the first bar while others of us ventured further along, window shopping and glimpsing the sea in between buildings. After about a kilometre of strolling, we decided the rest of the vista would be pretty much the same so we turned to head back, looking for some way to exit the road and walk along the beachfront.

I would not pay.

After a couple of unsuccessful detours, all ending in private club entrances, we twigged to the fact that we are in Italy where the concept of a public beach with open access is not a thing. All access was via clubs who lease the sand and put out deckchairs, umbrellas and cabanas for hire. So we wandered back the way we had come, periodically meeting members of our group either having drinks or shopping.

Australian beaches embody the people we think we are. It's all egalitarian anarchy - while we obey all the rules everywhere else.

Beach clubs as far as you can see.

We came to the breakwall and dutifully turned before the footbridge to walk towards the meeting place albeit, a bit ahead of time. The walk on the wall was actually longer than we expected and it was quite busy with walkers, cyclists and people carrying fishing gear. Occasionally we checked the map we had been sent to make sure we were heading in the right direction. Ahead, over the fence on a rocky outcrop, rose a stone monument which fitted the description of the family mourning the loss of their maritime loved ones. 

On the fence in front of the monument was a sign listing all the forbidden pastimes including swimming, diving, walking on the rocks and fishing - just across from where several people were, on the rocks,  fishing away. Love a bit of civil disobedience ...

The fisherman is out of sight.

Jayne decided to stay here and people watch while I went in search of a sunset photo op at the end of the wharf, quite a distance further along. There wasn't a lot happening, a lot of people fishing and others just walking to the end point and back. Except for a group of teenagers at the halfway point who were occasionally diving into the water. No doubt annoying those fishing.

On my return, Jayne had been checking maps and had started to wonder if we were in the correct place because the rendez-vous map placed the dropped pin directly across the water on the next pier where a statue of Mary gazed out to sea, with seats around her feet and plenty of locals sitting around. We felt we had the place right because the only way to reach the other pier was over the forbidden footbridge.

The breakwall.

While we were pondering this dilemma, happily Matt, Drew and Alex turned up carrying eskies and other requisites for sunset drinks, to be followed by upmarket fish and chips that would be purchased from a local shop back along the pier. Matt sent out another message confirming the place to meet and we settled in to have a beer while waiting for the others to arrive.

Mary by night.

The promenade.

Once we were all gathered, the glasses and wine appeared and the sunset dinner commenced. It was a beautiful calm Tuscan evening as the sun dropped below the sea horizon and the locals wandered past enjoying their weekend. One local attempted to join the party, carrying his own opened bottle of spirits (no glass) but he was politely asked to go away.

Prettier and quieter at night.

Then dinner arrived - fish, calamari, prawns, chips; all beautifully cooked and delicious. It didn't take long for us to consume the feast and then it was time to pack up and head back to the local artisanal gelato shop.  After a terrific day, exploring two very different places in Tuscany. we walked back to the vans for the drive back to the villa.

The sunset.

Alla prossima.