tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2858471829942641432024-02-18T23:51:18.937-08:00Speaking of ItalyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11303955437338915602noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285847182994264143.post-10742499069478611382015-08-25T15:09:00.000-07:002015-12-21T06:04:27.529-08:00Pizza Night at La CuccagnaI tend to be one of those “nice quiet table in the corner” people when going out to dinner with my wife. Is it just me, or does it seem like every time you try to make early dinner reservations to avoid the crowds (and enjoy a little space), the maître d still finds a way to seat you right “on top of” someone else – even when the restaurant is half empty! I don’t know; I just find that awkward, and I tend to clam up. If I can see what’s on your plate (or you can see what’s on mine), we’re sitting too close. It’s not that I don’t enjoy being around others; I certainly don’t consider myself anti-social. It’s just for me, sharing a meal is personal – reserved for family or close friends. A few years ago though, during a trip to Italy’s heartland I learned that those feelings were perhaps a little extreme. I also learned a lesson about comradery, friendship and the power of food. <br />
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My wife Marion and I are guests at a farmhouse retreat called La Cuccagna (land of plenty) just outside the ancient town of Gubbio. It’s situated in the Italian countryside with panoramic views of rolling hills that never seem to end. The farmhouse has been meticulously restored by the owners Sal and Sarah making it the perfect stay for travelers seeking a peaceful and serene getaway. Today, we receive an invitation to dine later this evening in the main dining room. Pizza Night is a tradition here, and Sal prepares bread and pizza (with a variety of toppings) in an outdoor stone oven. Marion and I don’t have any plans tonight, and how can you say no to stone oven baked pizza in Italy! A few hours before dinner I decide to take a walk down to the main house for a peek at the dining room – it’s rustic and cozy. But wait a minute; there are no separate tables here, just one big one. This can’t be the dining room – can it? “Ciao Stefano (Hi Steve),” Sal cheerfully greets me as he enters the room. <br />
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“Ciao Sal – una domanda (a question). Will there be separate tables this evening?" <br />
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“No signor, just this table here,” he says with a smile, “and we’re very happy to have you. See you tonight,” he says gleefully as he races out the door. OK, there’s no way no way this is going to work. We’re in Italy on a romantic trip and I’m looking for a nice candle-lit table for two – not communal dining. I head back to the room to make my case for dinner in town; Marion disagrees – we’re going to Pizza Night! <br />
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The evening begins and we’re among an eclectic group of about a dozen guests from all over the world. We’re all enjoying aperitivos (pre-dinner cocktails) outside on the veranda engaged in polite conversation. I can feel my mind starting to wander – this place is absolutely beautiful. There’s a single winding road off in the distance that eventually disappears into the hills. The shadows from a setting sun fall perfectly across the countryside, and I’m thinking heaven can’t be too far away. Someone’s tugging my arm – it’s Mar politely keeping me engaged in the conversation.<br />
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It’s time for dinner and we all make our way into the dining room. As we politely find our places, I feel like a kid looking for a place to sit during lunch on the first day of school. After a few moments of awkward silence, Sal comes around the corner with these incredible looking pizzas - and Sarah’s right behind with a tray of breads, cheese and meats. I sit up straight in my chair - wow this looks great! “Boun appetito (enjoy),” he shouts with great enthusiasm. We quietly begin passing the food around the table. I help myself to a slice of margarita with toppings of slice tomatoes, cheese and basil and take a bite – hey, this is delicious – outstanding! One guest, Andrew from Australia, pokes fun at himself because he’s already on his second slice – we all laugh! Marion and I begin speaking with a teacher from the U.K., and there’s a couple from Long Island who own a small B&B sharing a story. Sal’s back with more pizza and the room is now filled with conversation and laughter. Wait a minute - I’m enjoying myself. I take a quick look over at Mar – so is she - so is everyone else! <br />
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Later in the evening Andrew pulls out his own bottle of wine and looks over at me. “Hey mate, let me have your glass.” He pours some wine in my glass and then into his own. We toast the evening and newly found friendship. Sal and Sarah enter the room (for the last time) to make sure everyone is having a great time - we all know this wonderful evening is coming to a close. No one wants to say good night though, we all feel like old friends. Marion and I have to leave early in the morning, so we thank our gracious hosts and say our good-byes.<br />
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Morning arrives and I take one last walk down to the main house to meet Sal in the dining room to return our room key. The table is decorated with fresh flowers, and there’s an aroma of freshly brewed coffee – most of the guests from last night are still sleeping. What a great time we had last night – who would have thought. The evening started off a little awkward – after all, we were total strangers. But you know what - maybe we had something in common right from the start. We all recognized something special about this place – it was magical! We traveled great distances to get here and came together for dinner one night – on Pizza Night. We shared fabulous food prepared by wonderful hosts, drank amazing wine, told stories, and laughed – we were comrades, we became friends – and it did feel like family! I shook my head and had to laugh at myself a bit - Steve, maybe you need to loosen up. Right at that moment Sal greets me with a final “boun giorno” as he enters the room. “We hope you enjoyed your stay Stefano. Maybe someday you and your wife will return to La Cuccagna and join us for another Pizza Night – yes?” <br />
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“Yes Sal, we will,” I said as I placed the key in his hand, “Thank you my friend – and arrivedirci (so long)!”Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11303955437338915602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285847182994264143.post-66853184415242459552014-04-04T18:35:00.000-07:002014-04-09T10:20:16.729-07:00A Street Corner in RomeWhen I think about cities in Italy, the first place that usually comes to mind is Rome. If you’re traveling to the country for the first time, consider making it your first stop because it provides a great indoctrination to the history, art and culture. Landmark treasures such as the Vatican Museum, Saint Peter’s Basilica, the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain and Coliseum should not be missed. At the same time, avoid running from place-to-place trying to squeeze in too much during your stay - take some time to slow down and just enjoy the city! Go for a leisurely walk and wander about, sit for a couple of hours at an outdoor café, or take a morning stroll through a Roman market. Really “experience” Rome and observe it - you may find something else to love! <br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCu4udKhdyhQMbbhNAAFXPD3FyXjTsDRVkApIpjI1I-8PFllFi8iGWb9Gly9IK38FwhF4e8BiMzpJL9T9kL17yU2jLy-T9GXyhlPrI_6HQ7YFpp_cmTX6aKsS7Qkte73zyFVfGX-GzAQJ/s1600/A+Street+Corner+in+Rome.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCu4udKhdyhQMbbhNAAFXPD3FyXjTsDRVkApIpjI1I-8PFllFi8iGWb9Gly9IK38FwhF4e8BiMzpJL9T9kL17yU2jLy-T9GXyhlPrI_6HQ7YFpp_cmTX6aKsS7Qkte73zyFVfGX-GzAQJ/s1600/A+Street+Corner+in+Rome.png" /></a>It was my wife Marion’s first trip to Italy, and by chance, I found a room in a small boutique hotel centrally located to all the great attractions – there was so much I wanted her to see! As we pulled-up to this charming tiny piazza that first morning, I was thinking how the Eternal City has this aura, a mystique that truly makes it special – it just never seems to disappoint! Our driver grabbed our luggage from the trunk and bid us farewell – “Arrivederci!” The entrance to the hotel was on the second floor of a quaint-looking building situated right at the corner. Eager to start the day, we checked-in, stored our belongings and off we went!</div>
<br />After a busy day of sightseeing (and fighting the crowds), our room back at the hotel provided a much needed respite - it was elegant (yet simple), very well-kept and spotlessly clean. It had two glass doors that opened to a beautiful window overlooking the piazza below – it was literally right at the corner! I called over to my wife –“Mar, come here – you have to see this!” In front of us were four confluent stone streets surrounded by ancient buildings with flower-boxed, shuttered windows and beautiful flowing green vines – just down the block we could see a peaceful courtyard in front of a small church. The area around the piazza was a restricted traffic zone – so there weren’t any cars! At one corner, there was a small restaurant lined with white cloth tables and umbrellas – a host was greeting passersby with a polite “Buon giorno.” Just across the street was a small food market, and through the door we could see a case filled with a variety of cheeses and Italian meats! I pulled over a few chairs and a small table and said – “be right back.” I ran across the street to the market returning with some parmesan reggiano cheese, prosciutto and a bottle of red wine – and there we sat. At dusk, candlelit tables along the stone streets created a wonderful sense of intimacy as couples, families and friends began the evening passeggiata (stroll). Occasionally someone would look-up and wave – we’d hold up our glasses, nod and wave back – I can’t remember a more memorable evening in Rome!<br /><br />After three wonderful days, it was time to move-on to our next destination – our taxi had arrived and was waiting downstairs. As I helped Marion into the back seat that morning, I turned and looked-up at the window of our room one last time. I’d made a wonderful discovery - I found a place where my wife and I could just sit back and “take in” our extraordinary surroundings while talking about all the good things in our lives. It was a place where we felt like a part of the city, not just like visitors – and it was down a quiet side street away from all the hustle and bustle. It was a window that overlooked a small piazza right at a street corner – a street corner in Rome.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8WfFr9uSTT1Jgw8nXO3QKbq9Y7_ZSe2jx4i82GRGTjz8Q_rDyARDp0CY2o0GaeqggRKabkKeTfPo4SoH5WrQsKDmYPz_SAPbOWbZGMOVob7bOU4GWARjkWgm4vFw6JXBGCUpKHxpqyOiN/s1600/image1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8WfFr9uSTT1Jgw8nXO3QKbq9Y7_ZSe2jx4i82GRGTjz8Q_rDyARDp0CY2o0GaeqggRKabkKeTfPo4SoH5WrQsKDmYPz_SAPbOWbZGMOVob7bOU4GWARjkWgm4vFw6JXBGCUpKHxpqyOiN/s1600/image1.jpg" height="200" width="191" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">Italy has plenty to offer the discerning traveler – history, culture, art, fantastic cuisine and wine! What makes this country truly special though - are the life-long memories you take back when you return home! Memories that at times can be so vivid, so precise, that you’ll be able to recall exactly what you were doing, thinking and feeling right at a particular moment. You could be enjoying an incredible view of the countryside from the walls of an ancient town, having a romantic dinner just off a peaceful piazza in Rome, or you may even be mesmerized by Michelangelo’s masterpiece inside the Sistine Chapel – and then all of a sudden it happens - you find yourself <b><i>lost in the moment</i></b>. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjQMG3_UleVf4H0mZomCG1F7T2gm_xyPRlSFe-y-GewTN6tXL1VZ72Ot3YNF-0P1HTbQJAE9Ttju1WBx_XuUzUM7dpqaiwMECKi_2mzkn4hDoVOIw2MpGpUAzmLL8i0DdXrMcKo_CwmCZ/s1600/image2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjQMG3_UleVf4H0mZomCG1F7T2gm_xyPRlSFe-y-GewTN6tXL1VZ72Ot3YNF-0P1HTbQJAE9Ttju1WBx_XuUzUM7dpqaiwMECKi_2mzkn4hDoVOIw2MpGpUAzmLL8i0DdXrMcKo_CwmCZ/s1600/image2.jpg" height="170" width="200" /></a><span class="s1">A few years ago I was doing a little research on Orvieto, a majestic city located in the southern region of Umbria - its home to one of the most beautiful cathedrals in Italy (Duomo di Orvieto), and the producer of the famous Orvieto Classico wine. I remember reading about a small B & B located just below (and within walking distance from) the ancient city walls. What I found most intriguing though, was that you had to walk through an <b><i>olive grove</i></b> to reach the city gate – I’d never seen an olive grove before. Imagine making your way to a famous Umbrian hill town during a beautiful spring morning – and walking through an olive grove to get there! Talk about the essence of Italy! I started to think what if my wife Marion and I were there – what if it was us walking through this olive grove? </span><span class="s2">I bookmarked the B & B’s website and made a pledge to go there some day. A few years later we did.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3tTQ7HJEvWvmnY4MdBPzSnnn05DydgARaTc9VDLOy9AmB-JxHPquVYWwzAlYuyL9RDERs9OyyLc1F5KUV1vVoR8FWMOTsGOkzwrEfKGM253yxV_VO9PTQM-Fbyc-GRGFs_8-HFs36cQsx/s1600/image3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3tTQ7HJEvWvmnY4MdBPzSnnn05DydgARaTc9VDLOy9AmB-JxHPquVYWwzAlYuyL9RDERs9OyyLc1F5KUV1vVoR8FWMOTsGOkzwrEfKGM253yxV_VO9PTQM-Fbyc-GRGFs_8-HFs36cQsx/s1600/image3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span class="s1">It was a perfect morning the day we drove up the stone driveway. The setting was beautiful – the grounds, the flowers, and the view. After checking in with our charming hosts we decided to head into Orvieto – and of course find the olive grove that would take us there! Off to the right and alongside the B & B was a stone staircase, and I could see the city walls just beyond. When we reached the top of the steps I took Marion by the hand, and sure enough there it was – right before our eyes. The olive trees had a “make believe” look to them, and there was a small lamp post placed right at the foot of the hill. As we made our way through the grove, the city walls seemed to fade for a few seconds and as I turned and looked over at my wife - I found myself <b><i>lost in the moment</i></b>. I felt thankful for being here - this day - at this moment - in arguably one of the world’s most beautiful places. I was thankful for my wonderful wife Marion - my family and friends. Our day would be memorable - exploring Orvieto with its quaint streets and shops, and of course the Duomo. Later in the evening as we made our way back down through the olive grove, we could see a light up ahead – it was the lamp post (now lit) welcoming us back to the B & B. </span></div>
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<span class="s2">On the plane ride back home, I closed my eyes trying to remember each and every day of our trip. I was thinking of all the great things we did – all the great times we had. I was thinking of those few moments in an Umbrian olive grove - and just knew I would never forget.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11303955437338915602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285847182994264143.post-18528821654874505512013-06-19T12:11:00.000-07:002014-04-10T13:51:56.506-07:00A Visit with Saint Ubaldo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Last year while traveling through the northern region of Umbria, my wife and I decided to take a day trip to the medieval town of Gubbio. We learned that only a few days before, this small town was overflowing with visitors for La Festa Dei Ceri (The Festival of the Candles). The annual event featured teams of locals running through the streets carrying large </span><b style="background-color: white;"><i>wooden platforms! </i></b><span style="background-color: white;"> Sounded like fun – but we were very grateful for a peaceful stroll along the quaint stone streets. After lunch, we decided to take a cable car ride up the slope of Mount Ingino at the edge of town. The “cable car” was actually a </span><i style="background-color: white;">basket for two</i><span style="background-color: white;"> which for me was somewhat disconcerting – but when we reached the top, the view of the town below was breathtaking! Following signs for the </span><b style="background-color: white;"><i>Basilica of Saint Ubaldo, </i></b><span style="background-color: white;">we came upon a rather plain looking small church - Italy’s known for its spectacular churches but this wasn’t one of them. When we walked inside my attention was immediately drawn to what appeared to be a </span><b style="background-color: white;"><i>glass enclosure</i></b><span style="background-color: white;"> sitting above the Alter, but we decided to sit in one of the small wooden pews to say a prayer. The church interior was peaceful yet somber, and we could hear tranquil, soft music playing in the background. As we approached the Alter I realized why the glass enclosure was there – lying inside was </span><b style="background-color: white;"><i>Saint Ubaldo himself! </i></b><span style="background-color: white;"> After our trip, I became curious – who was Saint Ubaldo – what was his story?</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRRY7-OaYZDLmvOzbhBw3jTxYm3eBg1CCOnS0MN_kbhlVGFczjAg2mJoV118T3xbi7gdYIbn9M8raivOHKS7_qQqq5Lki_ud0RQTdJSoTni20zgwSDLp84HrXSykqBfG7ygtuCHd5PaE3/s1600/St+Ubaldo+(Cropped).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRRY7-OaYZDLmvOzbhBw3jTxYm3eBg1CCOnS0MN_kbhlVGFczjAg2mJoV118T3xbi7gdYIbn9M8raivOHKS7_qQqq5Lki_ud0RQTdJSoTni20zgwSDLp84HrXSykqBfG7ygtuCHd5PaE3/s1600/St+Ubaldo+(Cropped).jpg" height="320" width="313" /></a><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ubaldus Baldassini was appointed bishop of Gubbio in 1129 – he was a kind man who spoke of peace and forgiveness. It was written that he once left the safe confines of the city walls hoping to thwart an impending attack. He convinced the would-be aggressors to lay down their arms and saved the town from being destroyed - but while he was gone the city erupted into chaos fearing he had been killed. When Ubaldo returned he climbed on a <b><i>wooden platform</i></b> and was rushed through the streets by several men to reassure its citizens that he was alive and well. After his death he was venerated as patron saint of Gubbio, and today his body rests peacefully inside the Basilica on top of Mount Ingino. On the streets below, every May 15 during La Festa Dei Ceri, his memory lives on as men hoist wooden platforms holding candles (ceri) and proudly race through the streets in his honor.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our serendipitous journey up the mountain to this small basilica gave me yet another opportunity to learn something about this wonderful country and its people. I couldn’t help feeling a little sad during my visit with the saint that day (like paying last respects to an old friend), but I could feel the strength of his spirit. It’s been over 800 years since his death, and that </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>spirit still remains in the hearts of the Italian people</i></b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> - perhaps someday we’ll return to Gubbio during La Festa Dei Ceri and have an opportunity to honor him as well!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11303955437338915602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285847182994264143.post-20317810670049745582013-02-17T15:47:00.001-08:002014-02-22T10:34:55.876-08:00Introduction and Passeggiata<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My greatest love is, and will always be my wonderful wife Marion – until my last breath. But a little over 25 years ago I began another great love affair - with a country across the Atlantic – Italy. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UolUTFWz5SsXbPAike7mTuXuwkefb-o52K58_CP959ZIcp8ol1HW_JxUpp1uFuX2JEaD6CRk9WuMkopo6BIyAts9J68IONOrAaRAq0PTYx_jPoYzYydoXld1Z8mNVCIC3UZ0Mr2lVbJF/s1600/A+Walk.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UolUTFWz5SsXbPAike7mTuXuwkefb-o52K58_CP959ZIcp8ol1HW_JxUpp1uFuX2JEaD6CRk9WuMkopo6BIyAts9J68IONOrAaRAq0PTYx_jPoYzYydoXld1Z8mNVCIC3UZ0Mr2lVbJF/s1600/A+Walk.png" /></span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It’s a place where the senses truly come alive – a place where life seems to slow down just enough so that you really feel like you’re living! With each visit I have found something new to love, something new to learn – and I’ve always left, with a reminder that it’s some of the simple things in life that really make it worth living.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As family and friends have come to learn, I’m always willing and eager to assist with travel suggestions. I also take great pleasure in sharing some of my wonderful experiences – some of the things I’ve learned. So although my blog – “Let’s Make Sense” is all about personal finance and investing, I hope you don’t mind, if every once in a while I digress by </span><i style="color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Speaking of Italy</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020;">During the early evening hours and before dinner, many Italians go for a walk - “</span><i style="color: #202020;">andare a fare una passeggiata.</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020;">” Couples - young and old, families and friends take to the sidewalks (and streets) of places like Rome, Orvieto and Cortona for a pleasant stroll. </span><i style="color: #202020;">La passeggiata</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020;"> (the walk) is one of the great Italian traditions – very different from what you might expect here in our country if you were going for a walk. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For a few hours each day (weather permitting) everything seems to slow down - no one’s in a rush or in a hurry to get somewhere else – just taking some time for an evening stroll. Young couples walk hand-in-hand, friends take some time to catch-up, seniors passionately discuss politics - it’s as if they’re celebrating the end of another day! A little later – it’s enjoying time with family and friends over dinner – and some great wine! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today there are far too many things that demand our attention – too many distractions – too many things that occupy our time. <i>La passeggiata </i>reminds me that some of life’s greatest pleasures can be simple – so simple that they often slip under the radar. So if, and when, you have one of those days (good or bad) – do as the Italians do! Take your sweetheart by the hand; call a friend, brother or sister and celebrate – <i>andare a fare una passeggiata!</i></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11303955437338915602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285847182994264143.post-59177504817205270832013-02-15T10:24:00.000-08:002014-02-22T10:32:22.634-08:00Civita di Bagnoregio - A Walk in the Clouds<div class="p1">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKm7tsr1CLZQuFsBMJh5a4DnLMbM8wrKo1lhRdsaR-vToKSf6ImPdzZVOyxHQwOpM_W65CYYX_ZYlcWzCiy4QTfEzQxjMT3MdthyokSvXQN5eWUNDfhFNJiTLRth-UWIkVE-tLWZJjrHpO/s1600/A+Walk+in+the+Clouds+1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKm7tsr1CLZQuFsBMJh5a4DnLMbM8wrKo1lhRdsaR-vToKSf6ImPdzZVOyxHQwOpM_W65CYYX_ZYlcWzCiy4QTfEzQxjMT3MdthyokSvXQN5eWUNDfhFNJiTLRth-UWIkVE-tLWZJjrHpO/s1600/A+Walk+in+the+Clouds+1.jpeg" height="239" width="320" /></a><span class="s1">Italy’s quintessential hill-top town is located just 60 miles northwest of Rome. Medieval Civita di Bagnoregio is perched high up on a hill over-looking the Tiber River Valley in the Lazio region. Founded over 2,500 years ago by one of Italy’s ancient civilizations (the Etruscans), Civita is connected to its more modern sister town (Bagnoregio) by a pedestrian bridge. As you begin your ascent along the bridge making your way to the town’s ancient entrance, you get the feeling that you’re going back in time – that your about to enter some mysterious place that belongs in a fairy tale. Occasionally the town sits above the morning mist – so it looks like its resting ever so <i>gently on a cloud.</i> One of the distinguishing characteristics of this small gem is that there are no cars, no trendy shops, and no busy streets. With the exception of a handful of locals (and a few cats) it’s basically uninhabited – nobody’s there! For this reason, it’s known as “il paese che muore” – the dying town. The population has been dwindling for years – leaving its tranquil confines frozen in time. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibl9CfIAM7eKJjId0BNy2S-GziLGAJ3n8eezPSrN8TO3VwpTmerAavl3Xv1f0bKZkgetSsr_xMCDOnPiAhpFjyJghaiezYm8hcCC6ZlwE9H9ORElS9UrgwR3E5k3yzDFOZ8hxdCdHJa-2n/s1600/A+Walk+in+the+Clouds+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibl9CfIAM7eKJjId0BNy2S-GziLGAJ3n8eezPSrN8TO3VwpTmerAavl3Xv1f0bKZkgetSsr_xMCDOnPiAhpFjyJghaiezYm8hcCC6ZlwE9H9ORElS9UrgwR3E5k3yzDFOZ8hxdCdHJa-2n/s1600/A+Walk+in+the+Clouds+2.jpeg" height="238" width="320" /></a><br />
<span class="s1">I visited Civita with my wife Marion last spring, and while it’s been gaining some popularity, we saw no more than a handful of visitors during our weekday visit. Walking through the ancient passage way into the town – it felt like we were in a dream. With its interesting architecture, silent stone alleyways, peace and serenity – Civita can be a welcomed respite from some of Italy’s more touristy towns. It has a small bed and breakfast, along with a restaurant or two - but just beyond the town’s small piazza is an ancient olive press. We sat in a charmingly rustic room while enjoying some fantastic bruschetta (toasted in a stone oven) and red house wine!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Our visit to this amazing little town will always rank as one of my all-time favorites - not just because of what I saw, but because of what I felt. Our lives are filled with crowded supermarkets, restaurants and movie theatres – busy offices and city streets. But for just a few hours during a beautiful spring afternoon – it was just the two of us – in a magical setting – a make believe place. It was truly <i>a walk in the clouds</i>.</span></div>
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