My Journal

Prev : Next Journal Entry For,
August 2006

4th August

Well, Rome is far behind me, in every way imaginable. I did see the Colosseo and the Pantheon and much more. I did my usual tourist bus ride first, which gave me a focus for what to see, and then went back, by foot, and visited all those places that interested me. Without being able to speak much more of Italian than a few (probably poorly pronounced) words, I managed to get around, to buy what I needed, and to book and pay for my train trip to Azzuro. I even managed to understand that I would have to leave the Rome to Florence train there, and buy another ticket for Poppi! The internet cafe I finally found in Rome allowed me to check my email, but no way was I able to plug my memory stick in to update my journal. The cost for using the computers was very high and to get in the door I had to leave my driver's licence, which was returned to me when I paid on leaving.

My hotel was within walking distance of the railway station (but not so close that I heard any trains) so I walked there on Sunday morning to take the Florence train, alighting at Arezzo. I had no trouble buying a ticket for Poppi at the tabaconist there and only had a short wait for the Stia train. Much to my surprise, that train was much more modern than the major train and I rode in airconditioned comfort for the 30 minutes the trip took. As promised, there was someone waiting at the station to meet me. The station is at Ponte Poppi (the bridge at Poppi), at the bottom of the mountain; the medieval town of Poppi itself is UP the mountain. The car trip takes no more than a few minutes, but to walk it is a nightmare - okay going down but a very steep grade means that walking back up is long and arduous, as well as breathtaking.

I have been here almost a week now and there are no words to adequately describe what this place is like. My room opens onto a balcony that overlooks the valley and the mountains rising behind this one. Wherever one looks there are many shades of green, with homes dotted here and there - mostly white or pinkish with red roofs. In my room there are red tiles on the floor and the ceiling is high. Lacy curtains flutter at the door and window, and the furniture is dark and old fashioned, but solid. There is a large wooden crucifix attached to the wall above the double bed. On the other side of the room there is a window that opens onto an ancient medival street - Via Dei Bianchi. Marcella (the signora who owns this place) is a lovely old soul who oozes Italian warmth. She and her neighbours gather every day and into the evening on benches outside and gossip their time away. Marcella has a dog (titi) and a bird that is 14 years old! OUr conversations so far have mostly been broken words (she has no English) and signs but I am slowly learning and she helps by correcting me or giving me the right version of the word. A great way to learn a language.

On the evening of the day I arrived (Sunday) there was a welcome dinner at the castle restaurant. Present was one of the teachers and my fellow students - all three of them! That's right, just four of us and two teachers. There's Eva (who has a room in the same house I'm staying in) and Beatrice, both from Germany - but they both speak such excellent English, and french - and Andra, with her 5 year old daughter Wen Wen, from America. Wen Wen is cared for during classes by a babysitter. Our teachers are Maura and Graziella.

A typical day, for me, is: rise at 5am (it's still so light here!), shower (in the cutest and tiniest bathroom you've ever seen) and dress, read for an hour, breakfast (museli or yoghurt) at 7am, read through homework, leave the house (with Eva) at 8.30am. By 8.25am we are at 'la bar' but note that our way is via an ancient and very steep cobbled street; if it was flat it would take no longer than one minute! At the bar we exchange the customary greeting - 'buon giorno' - with whoever is behind the bar, and place our order - 'un cappuchino per favoure' - and then take our seat outside. Everyone here is so nice about chatting to us and helping us to correct our use of their language. Our coffees are brought to us and we drink them while we get our minds ready for the mornings lessons. While drinking our coffee we watch the traffic as it wends its way through the narrow cobbled street (one way) and the people begin to go about their day. The local policeman usually comes to the door of his tiny 'office', hitching his pants up and checking that his belt is not loose, and the signora at the hairdressers throws some water on the road outside her door and sweeps up.

After coffee, we walk less than one hundred yards to our school, dodging any stray traffic - the roads are narrow and there is no footpath after the bar is behind us. As if we hadn't already had enough exercise, we walk up four flights of stairs to our classroom, where we begin our first 'lezzione'. Our teachers take it in turns so one day we begin with Maura, the next with Graziella. After a lesson of 'grammar' we have a short break at 10.30, for coffee at - you've guessed it, - the bar! There we meet with Andra, who is an advanced student and has a separate class to ours. Beatrice has some Italian, but Eva and I are raw beginners. (Although Eva is much younger and because she already has other languages - English and French, she is finding it a little easier than me.) OUr second, and last, lesson for the day is conversation, although we do continue with grammar when problems arise during our 'conversations'.

At 12.40pm we finish our lessons and leave, armed with our homework, but for 3 out of the last 5 days, we have had an excursion arranged by the school so the time for homework is really very short. Some days we eat lunch at different places in Poppi, or visit nearby places of interest. Last night (Thursday) we went to the home of a local lady, where she and her husband allowed us to join them in their kitchen, where we all prepared cena (dinner). Then we set an enormous table (with their friends and family, there were 12 of us) and sat down to eat what we had cooked. Antipasto was bread spread with different toppings; the pasta was a funghi pesto with tagliatelle (golden and green); le carne (meat dish) was chicken with zucchini, beans and mashed potatoes; and the last dish was a grape tart. There was white or red wine to drink during the meal and liquire to go with the sweet dish. We were told that the younger Italians don't eat like their parents did and often only have one course, but during family gatherings, they eat many courses, although only small servings.

I signed up for the 'intensive' course so I have 5 hours of individual tuition each week. Because of the excursions we've had this has meant that I have had to do these lessons in two hour blocks over the last two days, so 'sono stanca' (I'm tired) and ready for a break. Beatrice has gone off to Como to meet her husband for the weekend and Eva is leaving very early in the morning to stay in Florence so she can see some of that city. They both drove here so have that freedom. Tonight, I am going, with Andra and Wen Wen, to the castle. We will eat at the restaurant, and then go into the castle for a (concert). Tomorrow I am going down to Pont a Poppi, where there is an internet cafe so I can finally get around to my email and, with luck, get this up onto my page so my journal is up to date. After that, Andra is going to meet me at Poppi railway station and she, Wen Wen and I are off to Arezzo, where we are going to visit the market and explore the town. On Sunday, it will be back to study for me, ready for another week of lessons. Eva and Andra leave after one more week, but I believe that more students will be arriving on Sunday.

16 August

Keeping this journal up-to-date has become a problem; there is no internet access in Poppi, and the bar in Ponte a Poppi is not really an internet cafe at all. The computer belongs to the bar and they let us use it but one feels pressured to be quick, and I was not able to plug my flash drive in. Getting down there is a problem too, but the major problem is that I need to concentrate on the Italian language and this is difficult if I try to write and/or read in English.

I've been here for almost 3 weeks now and it's amazing how much I've learned in that time. The teachers are amazing, getting more out of their students (me included!) than I would have thought possible. I understand a lot of what is said but am still a little shy about speaking; when one is used to finding the right word almost instantly (most of the time!) it's a little daunting when one's vocabulary has shrunk! I elected to repeat the first two weeks again, with different teachers and with slightly different material. Graziella and Maura were wonderful, and Antonio and Luciana are also great teachers. The group is small and there is now just me and one other student (Carol from England) in the "upper beginner's" class. There are three others who are more advanced (Beatrice from Germany, and Rosemary and Phyllida from England), and another two (Andrew and his wife Michelle from England) who are receiving separate, and intensive, tuition.

Before she left Poppi, Andra and I, with her daughter Wen Wen, went to Arezzo, an old market town. We were lucky enough to arrive there on an antique market day and spent some lovely hours wandering through the old cobbled streets, looking at the wares on offer. Of course, there was no way I could buy anything to take home, but it was great to look. We managed to find a bookstore and I bought a couple of books in italian so I can practise my reading of the language. I also found a lovely CD of an Italian singer (now deceased unfortunately) I heard in class. We ate lunch at a pizzeria, at a table set under an umbrella out in the street so we could watch the passing parade. Across the 'road' was a gelataria; a constant stream of people walked in and emerged with luscious looking cones of gelato. So, after eating our fill of pizza, we had to move over there for desert!

Just prior to leaving the restaurant, a woman who was dining alone while reading (an English novel I had noticed) spoke to us. She was from Canada and had been in the area for 3 days. She said it was so nice to hear the English language. 'This,' she said, 'is my first foray out since arriving.' Apparently she had been too shy to venture out alone, especially as she spoke no other language. But she had surprised herself; it hadn't been as bad as she'd thought it would be. I could relate to her experience in a way but felt thankful that my 'solo forays' had been in Poppi, or Ponte a Poppi, where the general population understand that we are 'local' stranieri and so are patient with us, even helping us with our vocabulary and pronounciation.

The following Friday, I went with Andra and Eva to Florence, where we spent a lovely afternoon, sitting in the Piazza, watching the crowds and sipping a very expensive cappuccino! Andra knows the area well so we spent a lovely few hours wandering around and seeing where the best gelato's are to be found. We tried one of course and it was delicious - and this is from someone who generally doesn't eat ice-cream!

When it comes to describing the places we've been these past few weeks, my head spins - churches, places where 'miracles' have been said to have occured, frescos painted on walls, mysterious shaded spots and bright sunny places. The stories are all wonderful but much too long to go into here. When I have the time, I will write up some articles about these cultural visits.

Yesterday (15th) was a special day for Italy - and for me! It was my birthday and a feast day for the Italians. I kept quiet about my birthday, not wanting a fuss, but this morning, after our first class, I was told that there would be a 'short meeting' in the other classroom before our second lesson. I thought the 'meeting' would be to discuss an excursion but was totally surprised to find that it was champagne and birthday wishes! Beatrice had blabbed!

Sometimes, as I look about me, as I take in the glorious scenery: the green green hills that are sometimes bright, and sometimes hazy; the stone houses, pink, yellow, white, sandy, dotted about the hills or staggered down the mountains, their tuscan red roofs bright in any light; the bright blooms spilling from window boxes, draped over walls, or filling small spaces; when I hear the musical notes of the Italian language, listen to the ladies who sit outside early in the evening, gossiping and chatting, or the children who play in the streets - when I realise that I am really here, in the place I've often read about, in the landscape I've seen in the movies, or on TV, I have to pinch myself. It is all so 'different' and yet so very comfortable; simple and easy!

27th August

Yestday morning, with sadness and great reluctance, I left Poppi. It was a wonderful 4 weeks and I sincerely hope that I have the opportunity to do it again one day. If I lived in England, I'd do it every year! I cannot believe how much I learned in those 4 intensive weeks. I can't stress enough how wonderful the teachers and the people of Poppi are. Their sole purpose in life seems to be to ensure that the students leave there with a decent understanding of the Italian Language and the culture of the people. Apart from our lessons, we were taken to some amazing places, met some lovely people, and ate at glorious restaurants - from private to public. We learnt how to cook an Italian meal in the home of the lovely Signora Grazia and her husband - and then we had fun eating it!

The last couple of days in Poppi were special too because the local oils and wines and cheeses were showcased in the village. From early evening until late on Thursday and Friday night, the little tables and chairs came out and the cobbled streets were full of people. After paying at the top of the street, and receiving a wine glass in a little carry bag, one was able to walk the length of the street tasting the produce. The crowds were there until the early hours of the mornings I believe - Carol's room was right above one of the busiest parts of the street! Lucky me was far enough away so that I wasn't disturbed much at all!

The bus taking me, along with Rosemary, Phyllida, and Carol, to Firenze (Florence) left Poppi just before 10am on Saturday. It took the scenic route, across the mountains and plateaus, visiting many of the little villages on the way. Florence is only an hour away from Poppi but the bus took 2 hours and we arrived at the Florence bus station just before midday. Rosemary and Philida had another bus to catch, to Pisa, where they were to catch a flight back to England. Carol's family were joining her in Florence for a couple of weeks vacation. I had to find a bus to bring me here, to Montagnana. Amazingly, I managed to buy a ticket and find out where and when my bus left using only Italian. Of course, as soon as I open my mouth it's obvious that I am English speaking and nearly everyone answers in English but I persisited with my Italian and they must have understood me because here I am!

The bus left Florence at 4pm and I got off in Montagnana at 4.40pm. I knew we hadn't come a great distance but once again the way had been via tiny, quaint villages in the mountains on the other side of Florence. (Poppi is south east of Florence and Montagnana - in Val de Pesa - is south west.) As the bus drove off, my stomach took a dive. There was a tiny petrol station (closed), a bar (closed), a pizzeria (closed), and an alimentari (closed). There were a few homes but all looked deserted. The street was also deserted.

The only instructions I had received were that the cottage I had booked was 1 kilometre from Montagnana. After deliberating for awhile, I decided to set out and walk 1 kilometre in the direction the bus had taken and hope to find a sign. I had one medium sized pull-along bag, with another soft overnight bag on top, and my laptop over my shoulder. The road was narrow and rather rough and my one fear was that the wheels of my bag would drop off! There was no way I could carry it. I wasn't too worried though as I saw with relief that there was, at least, a public phone box. My fellow student, Carol, is very like me, needing to have a plan B and even a plan C in place in case of any eventuality and we had worked one out for me. I had her phone number and she and her husband would happily come and rescue me if need be. They had hired a car and would be staying in a villa between Montangnana and Poppi, so they wouldn't be too far away.

I had only walked a hundred metres when a woman came out of a house. Figuring that in such a small village everyone would know everyone else, I asked her where Signor Sergio Pancetti lived. She knew of course that I was English speaking and apologised because she didn't speak English! It felt good to be able to tell her that it was okay, that I would be able to understand her directions. She told me I had to walk along to the junction and take the right arm, walk on and where the road divided again to the left I would find the Pancetti's on the right. I thanked her and continued on.

After taking the first right, I found another lady, working in her front garden. After wishing her buona sera, I again asked for the Pancetti's and "I Leoni". She confirmed that I was heading in the right direction and asked if I was walking! My heart sank a bit because I thought this meant it was probably further than the 1 kilometre the email from Sergio had said it was. I continued on anyway - what choice did I have! - and finally arrived. It was further than 1 kilometre but only by a little.

Sergio wasn't home but his son was and he led me down to the cottage, which at a guess was probably once the stable of the main house, which is a huge villa. It's a lovely spot and I have a little patio that looks out over the olive groves and the grape vines, and a huge inground swimming pool complete with lounging chairs, like something from the Riviera. All the basics are here - a bed, a fridge, somewhere to cook, a bathroom etc - and I'm sure I'll be quite comfortable.

At 6, after unpacking, I walked back to Montagnana to stock up on some food, because Sergio's son had said the Alimentari (like a deli or 727) would be open then, and so it was. The lovely man there doesn't speak English but my Italian was up to the task and I managed to come away with everything I needed for a couple of days - which was as much as I could carry. Like most, if not all, of the small villages in Tuscany, the produce sold locally is grown, prepared, caught, or whatever, so it's lovely and fresh and so tasty. Al cena (dinner) was all Italian, without the anti-pasto. I don't eat bread and the procuitto is a little too fatty for me. But the simple pasta sauce (all fresh) over pasta and with fresh cheese and pesto, followed by insalata that had had olive oil and vinegar sprinkled over it, was more than enough. (I also skipped the meat dish figuring that the cheese was enough protein.) After my marathon day I turned in early (for me) and slept like the proverbial log until I was woken by a thunderstorm in what I thought were the early hours of the morning. Much to my surprise it was 8am!

This place is right on top of a mountain and the thunder was earsplittingly loud but soon the rain came and the noise abated. It didn't rain for long and the day has a freshly washed look about it. There is an inground pool off the laneway that leads down to my door and right now, at 10am, there is a family group there. They are french, and holidaying here in the villa next door - also owned by the Pancetti's. Apparently the pool is for my use also but it's not hot enough for swimming as far as I'm concerned! It's not cold by any means - I'm in light slacks and a short-sleeved top - but autumn is just days off and the sun doesn't have any bite to it.

Today - Sunday - I plan on a quiet day 'a casa' (at home). Tomorrow I'll take a long walk and familiarise myself with the area. Another village, Baccaiao, is 1 kilometre in the other direction and I might go there. It's from there that I can take a bus to another larger village where there is a supermarket and clothing shops. Once I've settled in here, I want to get stuck into some writing. I had planned on some longer trips but they will involve going back to Florence and as I'll be there in 3 weeks, staying there for 4 weeks, I might leave Pisa, Lucca, Sienna and so on, until then.

30th August

As planned, I walked down to Baccaiano on Monday. It was much further than I'd been told though - more like 2 and a half kilometres - but it's the only place I can buy bus tickets. I went to Montespertoli because the nearest supermarket is there, to do my shopping and to have a look around. It's a fairly large village but I have to say, not very pretty. I guess I've been spoiled! I also went there to see if I could find some internet access but no such luck; Italy really is the land technology forgot! I was told that I would have to travel to another town by another bus to find an internet cafe. (The owner of this place told me he is having it installed for next year! Just my luck!) It will be easer to go to Florence, which is only one bus ride away (25 kms).

Yesterday I took another walk, in another direction which led through some very pretty country. The hills roll on forever, covered with olive groves and grape vines, red roofed houses here and there, and some very large villas too! Tomorrow I plan on going into Florence to access the internet. (That will have to be it until I return to Florence in the middle of September for my last 4 weeks in Italy.) While I'm there, I'll check out the exact location of my appartment there, so that I am not struggling with maps and bags when I go back there in just over 2 weeks.

Prev : Next