The End

During the Indian meal we had last week in north London with Kirit, a dish was brought consisting of rice, various nuts, and spices; Kirit said, OK, this is the end -- and I asked, Do you mean it's dessert? and he replied -- No, it's just The End!

So that's the title of this final "dish" in the blog, dear friends. We are at home safely, after a long, tiring, but thankfully uneventful flight -- and a couple of nights of sleep.

Our last couple of days in Giove were peaceful and wonderful. On one of those afternoons, I sat in a chair just outside the door of our guest apartment on the lower level of the house, and wrote this in my travel journal:

"If I lived here, I think I would have to paint; the colors are so lovely. Odd that I did not really see that, when were in Italy during the Eighties; I just thought Umbria was misty and dull. But Perugino and the other Umbrian painters need not quake in their sleep; I'll never be an artist. Yet, I will recall Umbria forevermore with an inner eye for beauty..... As I sit here on the "front porch" of the little guest apartment, the farmer's chickens are scratching on the hillside nearby; it is late afternoon of a warm, mild day, and the sun is just beginning to slip below the Tiber Valley fog. The mid-blue Umbrian sky -- the color of the Virgin Mary's cloak, in so many Italian paintings -- is flecked with sheer clouds. The day is ending."

While we were in Giove, we had had a wonderful Pranzo with the Bacchellis and Lily, at what has become known in Leenie's inner circle as "the gay truckstop" -- actually a fabulous restaurant at the foot of the Giove hill, frequented by truckers because it's just off the Autostrada del Sole and because the fantastic food is cooked by the great Simona, master chef.

On Tuesday, before we were to leave for the Rome airport, a neighbor of Leenie's, Giancarlo, prepared an amazing luncheon feast for all of us in Leenie's house, and brought local wines and a delicious (classic Florentine) sort of cheesecake, called "Torta di Nonna" -- Granny's Cake -- in our honor.

After that amazing luncheon, we left Leenie and Greg to have a couple of days of rest and recovery, and John and I and Lily were driven by Alfredo and Olga to the Ciampino/Roma airport in a pouring rainstorm, complete with great thunder and lightning displays -- absolutely operatic.

Safely back at Cope Place on Tuesday at midnight, we three slept deeply; and the next day was spent in the ignoble sport of packing to go home, and seeing Lily off with Danny, where she spent the rest of the week before school break would be over.
(Leenie and Greg flew back to London last night, and are attending the wedding of a friend today, as planned.)

On Thursday morning, the Noble Kirit arrived at Cope Place right on time at 8:30 AM, and transported us and our luggage to Heathrow -- and the rest is just a blur of air travel. We arrived on time in Santa Barbara at 9:30 PM (PDT) and my siblings were there to shepherd us home to bed.

Yes, it is good to be back on terra firma; and yes, it was a wonderful three weeks -- magical, beautiful, and very, very rewarding on so many levels. Aside from all the travelogue details I've recounted in this blog, I just want to add that this trip was a mind-enhancing, possibly lifechanging experience for both myself and John. And we had the joy of spending even more time than we'd anticipated with Leenie and Greg; and the great privilege of getting to know Liliane much better over the three weeks.

In the years to come, I hope to be able to spend more and more of this kind of time with the children and grandchildren I love so much. It is going to be, for me, the meaning of life. It is love.

A million thanks to Leenie for such a wonderful gift.

Arrivederci

This being the last time I will have electronics at my disposal until we return to the US, I am taking time this last morning in Giove to say farewell to this blog, and to my readers. It is a foggy morning on this mountain, but the sun is breaking through over the Tevere valley. The local nurse is here, taking care of Greg's wounds; we have said prayers of thanks that the report from London doctors has been so good. Apparently all signs of cancer are gone; and the wounds are healing well.
Eileen and John have just gone up the steps to buy fresh fish from the man who comes by with his cart on Tuesdays and waits at the little square near the Bar; and John will bring me a last cappucchino on their way back down.
Our friends Alfredo and Olga, up from Roma for a day visit, will pick John up in a half-hour and take him to Bomarzo, the Monster Park nearby (I know Lee Sandlin will be jealous). I am going to stay here and clean up the downstairs apartment where we have roosted, as another friend is coming in this noon to take over the place for a week or so.
A neighbor will bring lunch by in the early PM, when we will have a last feast -- with the Bacchellis, new guest Laura, and the family here present - and probably a few more neighbors and friends, if I have a guess.
Then Alfredo will drive John, me and Lily to Roma, where we will cab it to Ciampino (wheee, one more Roman cab ride!) -- and we'll fly back to London later in the evening.
If this is just an information transmission, please accept it as such -- there is too much to say about our time in Italy to squeeze into this format. I will send a summation of the trip when we are home and rested a bit.
Our love goes out with this, to each and every one of you.

Camera col Vista

Come along for a magical mystery tour, to Bella Firenze .....
We were driven north on the Autostrada del Sole, through Umbria and on into Tuscany -- in warm, pastel late-summer weather, on Saturday morning. Pulling into the Piazza San Marco -- our intrepid driver Max (Massimo of course, and very handsome with a wonderful Roman Nose) stayed with the Alfa while we walked around to our too too posh little hotel (google it -- La Loggiata dei Serviti, Florence) and checked in. Shades of Leenie's film, friends: I threw open the wooden shutters in our room and there before my eyes appeared the roof of the Duomo and to its right the dome of Santa Croce; and to its left, the gleaming marble of the Baptistery and Bell Tower-- our own Room With AView! Immediately the Girls went off to shop; and John and I walked, through the balmy and beautiful streets of Firenze, over to the market square and down and up and around until we were tired; and then sank into a cafe on a big square and had lunch -- a cool glass of liquid, a big salad, good bread.
The rest of the afternoon saw more walking, a cono di gelato of course, --and lots of people-watching.
At 5 PM, Leenie and Lil dashed into the hotel where we awaited them -- they threw on some spectacular outfits --and we all ran out to catch a taxi to Piazza della Republica, where Lil and we had another cool drink in one of the more posh cafes in the city while Leenie ran over to the cinema to set up for the evening.
And what an evening. The very beautiful and elegant little art house was filled with the cogniscenti di Leenie; our girl gave a beautiful opening talk in Italian and English to introduce the film (and of course, her Genitori, us!) and then the lights dimmed and the real magic began. What a beautiful cinematic triumph our girl has concocted -- we laughed, we smiled, we gasped at the luscious shots of Florence and Fiesole and -- to the strains of the Vivaldi 'Gloria' -- locations in Bella Roma; and we all shed tears as the credits rolled, including 'to the memory of a true Uomo Buono, Fernando Ghia' --- as we applauded and applauded.
You all will get the treat yourselves when the film is shown on PBS early next year.
The magic continued as we sipped Prosecco with those cogniscenti in the lobby while Leenie accepted plaudits right and left; and then it went right on out with us into the moonlit streets as we walked to the magnificent Gilda's ristorante -- walked across the Piazza del Duomo, with the Brunelleschi monument and the Baptistery and Bell Tower crowned by a full moon floating in the skies.
Leenie's friends were crowded into the ristorante when we arrived, scoffing down beakers of vino and loading up plates piled with antipasti from a three-table buffet; but we of the inner circle were ushered past all the hoi-polloi, and down to a private banquet table in the lower Cantina. There then ensued about a 15-course menu of one glorious platter after another, carried down narrow winding stairs by various functionaries -- as different luminaries and friends drifted down to share a bite or a sip of wine with us -- the director, the casting director, etc. etc.
As midnight came around, we shared sips of Vin Santo and munched homemade biscotti -- and then down came Gilda with a covey of dolci that could not be beat.
Oy veh.
A big yellow taxi came and took us back to the hotel, where we sank into a splendid big bed and slept the sleep of the sated.
Waking to the sound of Sunday morning bells, we grabbed a bite of breakfast and walked over to the San Marco museum to stand in awe before Fra Angelico's announcing angel -- John went round the various cells to see Savonarola's artifacts and such, and I just stayed with Mary and her angel, watching the play of light over Gabriel's wings and looking at the background of the San Marco convent and cell in which Angelico placed the duo.
We drove back to Giove -- stopping in Orvieto for another meal that could not be beat and a look at the golden facade of that cathedral; and on the way home, up the hill, we stopped off at Manlio and Claudia's villa for a tea and a look at the location of the August wedding.
Then, home to sleep.
For more practical details of what's happening this week, etc., tune in to the next blog.
This is not about practical details, this is about a dream weekend.

Just a little Sunday evening update

First of all, Greg is doing well; we will hear from his London doctors tomorrow re the results of the tests they took last week.
Secondly, you will have to tune in tomorrow to get the full and glorious report on our weekend in Firenze. Suffice to say: it was glorious.
Finally, and moslt importantly -- Tanti Auguri to the Elves!! We will try to call you mad little rabbits, later today. We just got back from our road trip and found the good news awaiting us in Giove. (Do you have any idea how much work TWO children are??? But after that it makes absolutely no difference how many more you have -- at least, that is what John told me when he asked me to marry him.... I don't know if he would say that any more.)
It's your tired Franny signing off -- will be back tomorrow with the full story of the Room With A View.
Love, Me

L'Avventurra

Shopping in a village in Umbria is truly an adventure. Good thing all is small, as you have to go back, and go back again -- at least if you're the Italian version of a dumb gringo.
Yesterday afternoon, in the misty rain, Lil and I went up to the Farmacia to get Leenie some eucalyptus nasal spray. We knew the right words (along with some pantomime of squirting something up your nose) and found the right stuff; but we didn't have enough Euros with us. So we tried to buy bread and milk and butter -- but every food emporium was chiuso. 'Oh, right, go back at 5.30 when they open up' said La Mamma. John and Lil went back as bidden, but -- still chiuso. 'Oh, right, they are all closed on Thursday afternoons, I forgot,' said La Mamma. .... well, at least they had enough money to get the nasal spray .... But no butter to make Gnocchi al Burro e Salvia -- a shame, as we had loads of sage growing right outside the kitchen door ; so I raided the cupboard and threw an Arrabbiata sauce together, and we ate.
Today, in an incredible thunderstormy morning, Lil and John fared forth and came home with everything we needed for me to make a big pot of stew for tonight's dinner -- except the meat. There was much discussion at the meat counter, but John did not want lamb; Lil did not EVER want veal; and they looked at the shoppers as if they were nuts when they asked for Cinghialle;-- (I thought Umbria this was pork heaven???)
so the shoppers have to go out in the storm again at 5.30 PM when in theory the shops will again be open. Otherwise, I guess we will be having a sausage stew for dinner.
PS: But Umbria is Pork Heaven, after all: along with what they ordered and paid for, there was a lagniappe: a package of John's favorite sandwich filling, Porchetta al'Herbes! It got put into their shopping bag accidentally (or by the special favor that God grants innocent fools) -- and the lady who had ordered it, in front of them, had griped 'Where's my package?' and it could not be found, so she got another package of porchetta for herself, I guess -- shall we eat this stuff and put some money in the poor-box at church on Sunday? You bet your porchetta!

List of things I love about Italia

1. The lunch we just scoffed down, from the (yes) truck stop at the bottom of this hill; it was one of the best meals I have had in a very long time, perhaps since I was last in Italy. The magnificent Simone, who catered the Giove wedding, threw it together for us at the last moment when we realized we didn't have the energy to go out. Creamy, hot polenta with drifts of grated Parmesan stirred into it, and crisp-fried prosciutto and wild mushrooms scattered over the top; sauteed red radicchio lettuce; little timbales of some sort of eggy custard with herbes and truffles; acqua minerale; and a little tiramisu for a dessert, which we are having with hot herbal tea. It's a grey, misty, cool day over the valley, but the fire is blazing in the hearth. Lily is cutting out samples of clothing she wants to buy, from a fashion magazine; Greg is consulting the BBC web for news of the California fires; John is reading 'What If' -- a wonderful compendium of historians' guesses about how things might have turned out differently in our world's past eons (I'd love to see a 'What if Al Gore had won the last presidential election along with a full Dem slate in Congress?') -- and Leenie is about to take a big, deep, hot bubble bath to cure her bad cold. And I am off to take a nap and dream about this village. Later, Lily is going to give me a guided tour of the food possibilities (sweet foods, that is) in Giove Alto.

Ciao! I'm in love!

Dear children, dear comrades, you won't believe this:
I am falling in love. Si, with Italy. At last.
There's nothing like a late in life romance, and this is going to be interesting.
We had a truly unnerving trip down from London -- no, not due to any flight difficulties, but to the boorish Brit ground crew in Gatwick, who made our boarding with Greg very complicated and unpleasant. But we finally squeezed onto the tiny EasyJet airbus (now known to us forever as SleazyJet), and flew speedily and handily, if sardinelike, to Ciampino airport. Leenie had reserved the largest car possible to transport Greg and his crutches, and the rest of us, and our luggage: they gave us an Alfa hybrid wagon, dontcha know. We headed north on the A1 autostrada, and one hour-plus later, about 11 PM, we were wending our way up the switchback road to Giove.
Oh, my friends, what an experience this is going to be for me -- for us..... Leenie had been feeling awful, with a bad cold and various other minor but aggravating symptoms, and of course very stressed; but as we walked down the hill to her house with our luggage, she hugged me and said, 'Oh, I feel so much better, already!' .... and so did we all. There is something magical about this Giove, and I am going to try to absorb it fully -- and if possible, transcribe it in some sort of words for you.
I slept intermittently, last night, in this gorgeous guest apartment down the hill. The whole house is nestled into the side of the top of the mountain, and the views across the Tiber valley are incredible.
We woke at sunrise, threw on warm clothes, and walked up the flagstone steps to the road, and over a few paces, to the village cafe -- where we wolfed down two cappuccini each -- oh, yum!
I don't find words to describe what I'm experiencing, just yet; I'm overwhelmed with the beauty of this place. Give me time, and I'll try to convey what I'm seeing and feeling -- it's still early in the morning of my first day in Paradise.
Suffice to say that I've already said to John, 'why don't we come here and live for a year?'