THE ITALY TRIP

Leg Two: Orvieto

On the list of my life's serendipities, this one will rank high. We'd originally planned to spend several days in San Gimignano, but couldn't find lodgings for more than one night. The problem seemed to be that April 25th is Italy's Liberation Day, and a significant number of its people were vacationing for the weekend. I'd been in touch with practically every Sienese, Tuscan and Umbrian hotel and B&B listed in our Rick Steves Italy guide without success, but had no luck finding lodgings in easy driving distance of San G. I kept at the search even after we'd reached Florence. Finally, starting to feel desperate, I decided to try Orvieto, a town Steves mentions, but one we hadn't planned to visit--and there I found success. There was a vacancy at the Hotel Duomo, only a block from the city's cathedral, and I booked it for Friday, Saturday, & Sunday nights.

The drive from Florence to Orvieto was surprisingly straightforward, though we didn't realize at first that the A1 was a toll road. The scenery was predictably stunning--hills, orchards, villas, mountains, vineyards--but nothing had prepared us for our first sight of Orvieto. It sits on a mesa of tufa rock, a flat-topped tableland perched 300 feet above the surrounding Paglia Valley, and it commands the attention of anyone in the valley. The road passed through its less scenic sister city, Orvieto Scalo, then looped up to the city itself, which is itself commanded by its enormous cathedral, which is--there's no easy way to say this--striped. The walls are horizontal rows of marble blocks, alternating white and dark green (almost black). It looks like it was designed by Delmar from O Brother, Where Art Thou? after a long contemplation of his prison uniform. Our hotel room had a good view of it, as well as views of the numerous rooms, pubs, and narrow cobbled streets; once you looked out the window, you might as well have been in the Quattrocento. The room itself, however, was sleek and modern--a refreshing change from the Renaissance vibe outside.

The view from the cliffside gave us a good look at a monastery in the valley, as well as a chance to see birds of all sorts darting from tree to tree, both above us and below us. Pigeons were revealed to me as masterful fliers, turning the winds beyond the cliffs into their personal playground; they dove with falcon-like swiftness and control all around us. European goldfinches, among the most beautiful birds on earth, flitted from evergreen to evergreen all around us, accompanied by two birds I'd never seen before: European serins, beautiful little yellow-and-brown finches with buzzy voices and jittery habits, and a yellowhammer or two.

We were already thinking that the Steves guide had led us to a mighty fine place, so we figured we'd trust his recommendation for a restaurant and visited Pergola. Oh, my. Aside from the excellent bruschetta and a tasty, reasonably-priced bottle of Orvieto Classico bianco, we had the best main courses of the entire trip. Kelly ordered the chicken cacciatore, which arrived in a peppery red sauce about as unlike American tomato sauces as the wine was from Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill. It was accompanied by black olives, which seemed to have been elevated by the sauce into a whole new food status--magnifico! I had been unable to decide on an entree, finally letting the waiter decide: "Pollo o struzzo?" "Struzzo," he replied without hesitation, and so it was that I had my first taste of ostrich. If I hadn't known what I'd ordered, I would have felt sure I was eating steak--rare, lightly browned, and perfectly seasoned. Kelly and I traded bites, made ecstatic moaning sounds, and swilled down more Classico. The waiter finally appeared to give us our bill, and Kelly looked at him and said, "American food sucks." He burst out laughing.

The next day we ventured into Underground Orvieto, a complex of man-made caves on the plateau's south side, where we swiftly realized two things: one, that we weren't going to bother visiting San Gimignano with all that Orvieto had to offer, and two, that we were going to have to use the city in our book. The caves had been a combination of things: an olive-oil mill, a quarry for building stone, a series of Etruscan wells, a columbaio (pigeon roost) during siege times, even a WWII bomb shelter. When we emerged, we decided to check out the Duomo itself. (Yes, it was striped inside, too.) The windows are half stained glass, half translucent alabaster, and the Chapel of St. Brigit contains some stunning frescoes by Fra Angelico and Luca Signorelli--some of the most inspiring artwork we saw during the whole trip. Though the church's facade was covered with scaffolding for renovation, I found it a very impressive place to visit.

But then we discovered the most impressive thing in all Orvieto: Pasqualetti's gelateria. I tried the bacio flavor, chocolate and hazelnut, and thought I might begin to cry. The next day we returned and I decided to test them by selecting a radically different flavor--raspberry sherbet. It was fruity and seedy and turned my tongue purple; it may have been better than the bacio. I was convinced: it's the best gelato there is.

That night our sleep was interrupted by our neighbor. At first we thought he was moving furniture by night, but we soon realized he was snoring, to a prodigious degree. That or committing some unspeakable act on an innocent pig. We arose somewhat blearily and spent a lazy Sunday window-shopping and visiting the medieval fortress at the "low" end of the plateau. For lunch we snagged a small jar of black truffles--18 euros--just to say we'd tried them. They're very good, certainly among the tastiest mushrooms/fungi I've ever had. They're not worth 18 euros for a small jar, though. After the long haul back to the room, we discovered that our hotel TV had MTV, so we were able to turn off our brains and check out a number of videos, many quite intriguing (Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jarabe de Balo, and Panjabi MC among them.). That night I threw caution to the wind and tried wild boar; my Obelix-like tendencies had been strengthened, perhaps oddly, by the sight of a boar's leg on display at the local butcher shop--with hide, bristles, and trotters intact.

And for dessert? Pasqualetti's gelato, of course--mocha hazelnut this time. By Toutatis, this is living!
10:13 AM

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THE ITALY TRIP

Leg One: Florence

I really prefer the Italian name, "Firenze." The name "Florence" sounds a bit mundane for this city. Granted, our lodgings were pretty mundane, too: the Hotel Fleming, which sits in the Novoli section of town, close to the airport, but not terribly close to the historic sites. We arrived on Easter, meaning that just about everything was closed, so our first dinner in Italy was eaten at a Japanese restaurant: Sakura. Luckily, the combination of my pidgin Japanese and pidgin Italian was enough for purposes of ordering a meal.

We spent Monday investigating the area around Firenze's cathedral, the Duomo, but not the Duomo itself. We visited the Baptistry, a separate (and older) building with an octagonal structure intended to represent eternity (the 8th day being one beyond the week's worth of Creation) and a dome full of astonishing mozaics. Dante was baptized here, and I have no doubt that he took away memories of the figure of Satan, black and bestial, with three mouths gnawing on three sinners. The Duomo's main art treasures were moved to the nearby Duomo Museum after the awful flood of 1966 inundated the cathedral itself, and we spent the afternoon being very impressed by Donatello, who is fully deserving of his status as a Ninja Turtle. Speaking of TMNT: by dumb luck, during our lunch trip into the street market area, we stumbled across the Basilica San Lorenzo and discovered that its basement contained an exhibit on Leonardo's machines--many of which had been turned into working wooden models. We spent a good long while snapping photos and taking notes there, let me tell you.

We bussed our way back to the hotel and walked to dinner at a somewhat nearby restaurant: Dall'Onesto. The bruschetta was potent, with garlic so strong it actually hurt a little. Mmmmmm.

Tuesday saw us hopping the bus and walking to the Ponte Vecchio, where we discovered that the Arno River contains not only a school of very large tourist-fed carp, but a happy group of otters--not what I expected in downtown Florence at all. We visited the Pitti Palace, spending most of our visit wandering the spacious, shady Boboli Gardens, from which we got a number of breathtaking views of the city. We then wandered the Oltrarno district, examining the medieval gate and wall, picking up some wonderfully slubby yarn for Kelly, and coming across the best cappuccino I've ever tasted at Dante Trattoria. On the way home we stopped by the Mercato Nuovo (New Market) to buy Kelly a leather bracelet and rub the nose of the bronze boar in charge of getting visitors back to Florence. For dinner, we went cheap: I stopped by the Coop grocery for bread, cheese, and fruit, which we ate in the hotel room.

It was time to get fully touristy on Wednesday, so after a leisurely morning of window-shopping, we went to our 12:15 appointment at the Uffizi Gallery determined to do the medieval/Renaissance art thing with gusto, and for nearly three hours, we did. We marvelled at Botticelli, at Leonardo, at Hans Holbein, at Michelangelo, at Fra Lippo Lippi, and at various unknown medieval talents, taking time to marvel at the sight of two pigeons mounting each other in turn, which doubtless disappointed at least one of them. Knowing we'd seen too much to take in, we snagged a very large book about the museum, bussed home, and hit the Dall'Onesto again--a happy choice, because en route I saw my first Italian life-list bird: a female Blackcap, perched in a tree above the sidewalk.

I succumbed to the pressures of consumerism on Thursday, purchasing a pair of Italian boots for 55 euros. I immediately put them on, since my Nikes were lighter & easier to carry, and broke them in at the monastery of San Marco. Despite the Fra Angelico paintings in each cell, the TWO rooms set aside for meditation by Cosimo di Medici, and the THREE rooms given to Savanarola, the Dominican life did not appear terribly glamorous, and Kelly and I had no trouble imagining how cold the cells would be in winter--the naked rafters above the cells are easily visible from the halls, and there's little sign of insulation up there. For contrast, we visited Il Cibreo for lunch. It's a multi-business enterprise: a restaurant, a cafe, and a soon-to-open grocery, all owned by Fabio Picchi, the son of the couple who hosted my brother during his collegiate semester in Italy. The restaurant is pricy, so we hit the cafe; the cafe has a more crowded environment and a more limited menu, but since it uses the same kitchen as the restaurant, we didn't feel we were missing much. I had a basic but superb meal of paper-thin ravioli with butter and fresh parmigiano cheese. Droolworthy. That afternoon, we finally found the Quattrocento Medici area we had been seeking: the Riccardi Palace, where Lorenzo lived before he became Magnificent. And then we were off; on Friday, we'd pick up our rental car and head into the Tuscan countryside.

At the hotel, I checked my e-mail and discovered that Publisher's Weekly had given my book a glowing review. Eep.

To be continued...
2:38 PM

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We're back.

I'll be telling tales of Italy at some length in the future: the stunning views and primo gelato of Orvieto... the dreamily anachronistic beauties of tiny Civita... the pungent kick of bruschetta in Firenze... but for the moment, I thought I'd better get started with more mundane matters: for instance, where I'll be in the month of May (and the beginning of June).

UPCOMING PERSONAL APPEARANCES:

*Saturday, May 17: 11:30 a.m.
Hilton Head Audubon Society Nature Festival, Hilton Head Island, SC

*Saturday, May 17: 5:00-7:00 p.m.
Hilton Head Barnes & Noble, Hilton Head Island, SC

*Sunday, May 18: 12:20 p.m.
Hilton Head Audubon Society Nature Festival, Hilton Head Island, SC

*Monday, May 19: 7:00 p.m.
Virginia Beach Audubon Society meeting, Virginia Beach, VA

*Sunday, May 25: 2:00-2:45 p.m.
McIntyre’s Books, Fearrington, NC

*Friday, May 30: 2:00-4:00 p.m.
Book Expo America, Los Angeles, CA

*Sunday, June 1: 11:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m.
Book Expo America, Los Angeles, CA

The Verb 'To Bird' has now gotten favorable reviews in Library Journal, C-Ville Weekly, The Raleigh News & Observer, Publisher's Weekly, The Charlotte Observer, and (in a few days) Booklist.

Meanwhile, the print version of my online home, The Readerville Journal, in which "Loose Canons" appears, has been named one of the year's best new magazines by Library Journal.

And for those of you keeping tabs at home: I picked up a dozen new lifers in Italy, including the Hoopoe, a sublimely ridiculous bird with boldly-pied wings, a conspicuous crest, and a hooting cry of "Oop oop oop." This is the sort of thing for which I got into birding in the first place.
9:21 AM

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