Pigeons

Ever watched the pigeons at Granville Island? 

 We have many experiences with pigeons at Granville Island and in piazzas here. We love watching them. Each pigeon is uniquely colored and has their own style of walking and bobbing their head in the same beat. Their colors are irridescent. They have sometimes been relegated to, "rats with wings."

The male pigeons are constantly puffing up their feathers and strutting around the female, emitting the nonverbal but clear message of, "Hey, Look at me! I am big and beautiful. I am male. Check out this strut, baby." All the while, whatever the female pigeon was doing, usually on the hunt for a crumb or yummy morsel, she keeps on doing it. He persists. She resists. 

The pigeons are not too concerned about whether they are  alone or in a flock. They just are therein the piazza doing their own thing.

Certain distinct pigeons hang out in certain piazzas. Piazza Santa Spirito, has a beautiful white pigeon and another with a club foot. They fit there.

Our time out has allowed us to watch a lot of pigeons and their funny antics. They hop up and down, swoop and dodge in the air, play games, sleep or meander over the cobblestones. Pigeons try to hoard their little bits of bread, jockey in the crowd to get their rightful portion when a fresh piece is thrown. And when another pigeon has a tidbit or chunk, they go after it. They are always ready, waiting and watching to get the advantage on the next dinner piece.

In the evening, when the pigeons have gone to bed, you see the evidence of their being there. Pigeons leave their mark, a lot of marks. Naturally, we have sat in a few and caught one or two on the arm. 

Some people notice the pigeons and go out of their way to feed them, others ignore or don't see them and still another group are annoyed by their presence, even if the pigeons are not in the way. 

People are just like pigeons.

Time

Time Out in Tuscany.... who would have guessed how profound that title would become to us. 

We suffer dizziness from our eyes darting in so many directions. We look forward to Canadian family and friends, backward to Italian memories and moments, inward to evaluate learnings and life lessons, and Upward to again be ever grateful. 

In all these views, time has been the common essence. We have written previously of the different approach the Italian mind has to time management and we have had a few more late dinner chats about it.

Madelaine L'Engle, author of Walking on Water, writes about two types of time, chronos, our wristwatch time, and kairos, real time - the time we are being. In chronos we find restrictions, deadlines and wrinkles appearing, whereas in kairos , there is a suspension of restriction, it is unmeasurable. It is the cup of coffee with the friend, a Sunday afternoon tea with grandma, a child lost in their play, or an artist creating. Kairos is unrelated to chronos.  Italians embrace kairos not chronos.

This came to another practical and fun realization in the measurement of distance.  We, Canadians measure distance in time. For example, we say," How far is Kelowna from Vancouver? 4 hours (except when Sandy is driving in the summer!). Whereas an Italian would answer; "380 kms - You get there when you get there. One never knows, we may stop at the auto grille for a picnic, there may be a bus strike...alora, okay!?!" They would never dream of answering in chronos, because they live more in kairos...

Our chronos Time out in Tuscany is fast ticking down but our kairos Time Out in Tuscany will always be.

".... the Purple Way"

"I want it the purple way!" was always Hannah's bedtime comment about her blanket. She had three ballerina bunnies and the one with the purple tutu always had to be closest to her face before she could close her eyes for the night.

 Some things never change. Circumstances may change, but the core of who we are rarely does. Sunday heard Hannah again exclaim, " Ale Viola!" (Viola is Italian for purple) She was cheering for the AC Fiorentina soccer team with 50,000+ fans. She got her purple close to her face!  In fact, she, Randy and I were immersed in a sea of purple. And once again, confronted with passion from another pursuit. 

AC Fiorentina won the game, 1-0 and everyone left happy, except for the few Sampdoria fans who were behind a 20 meter high security fence. Yup, that's right. A corner section of the stadium reserved for visiting team's fans was fenced off for safety. We sat at mid-field, about 10 rows up and had a blast, listening to the cheering, clapping and singing of the passionate soccer fanatics. It was a visual feast with numerous flags and banners waving (especially the end zones) and fans jumping in unison to certain chants.

There are a few differences with Italian responses to the game versus Canadian responses to a hockey game. For instance, when the home team has a scoring chance or breakaway, no one stands. They stay seated. Fans always clap after a scoring chance, even if no goal is scored. When the opposing team is pressing for a goal, home team fans whistle in unison to distract or hassle them. In the end, the fans did give AC Fiorentina a strong home field advantage which resulted in a win, the purple way.

Passion-Go Big or Go Home

Yesterday was sensory overload and an overdose of Italian passion. We absolutely loved it, devouring it all!

After saying goodbye to Al and Des on the platform, we watched them through the train window with the usual and awkward conversation, "Permisso, you are in my reserved seat." Only this time, as the train doors sealed and it inched out of the station, Al with angst pasted on his face managed to communicate to us that their tickets were mistakenly made for tomorrow, not today..... Ah, the joys of travel. We are sure the conductor would help them on their trip to Lago di Como, as we noticed a few empty seats in other cars.

From there our day took off. Previous entries have alluded to the passion of the Italian culture, heart and mind. In one day, we experienced its full force and multi-dimensionally, making the sum greater than the parts, and all the more rich.

First, it was the grand Mille Miglia. A 1000 mile round trip race from Brescia to Rome and back, in vintage race cars. 377 cars to be exact. Lots of early 1920's automobiles, up to 1957 models. Vintage motor cars by Bugatti, Haley, Ferrari, Alfa Romeo, Lancia, Maserati, with a few old Jags, Porsches and BMW's and the odd Volkswagen and Citroen thrown in. It made for a balanced feast of leggendas! Check out the video.

They cruised over the Santa Trinita Bridge and along the Arno. The support cars were new Ferraris , Maseratis and BMW's. I am not sure who was enjoying the race more, the drivers themselves, or all the masses of fans lining the roadsides. Passion of design excellence over generations was showcased.

 Immediately after the race, which just happened to be re-routed a few days prior because of the next passionate event, was the "Dante 100 Canti." It was a highly organized celebration of oral recitations and readings, happening simultaneously at various places in the historic centre, of Dante's Divine Comedy. Dante was a Florentine in the early 1300's. His writing was the first literature to be written in the Italian spoken vernacular. Up till then, all literature had been in Latin, thus the Divina Comedia established the Tuscan dialect. School age children, teens, senior citizens, amateur and professional, all participated, performing their cantos with similar passion. Based on inferno, purgatorio and paradiso, all afterlife views, made for more profound performances. So as we are awaiting a canto to start in a tiny piazza, we hear a band and loud chanting along a main shopping street. Not skipping a beat, we scurried out to watch a massive anti-police protest, peace demonstration and march by the Communist party and other supportive groups and tag-a-longs. In front of us was political passion, behind us, literary passion and yet to come was the passionate La Boheme Opera. 

Yup, why not, we asked ourselves. Only in Italy we figured, would we embrace a full Italian opera. So our Saturday culminated in a beautiful and tender opera of passion and poverty. We all loved it. As we strolled home in the warm evening, we marveled and celebrated the passionate heart of the Italian people. It is a beauty to behold. The final act of passion we witnessed was just outside our door. A young guy was riding along on his pink bicycle when he wiped out. Oh, he was okay. He took a few seconds to pull himself out from under his bike, and when he did, the first thing he did was to search out his fallen, stubby cigarette and get those last few passionate draws out of it. Who said all passion was wise? 

The Green Line

While enjoying our morning coffee on the terrace this morning, Randy asked me, "Is this trip an escape for you?"

 I looked over at him, wondering what part of the blue sky that question came from, and answered, "Nope."

"Me neither," he replied.

"Hmm. You know what this trip is for me?" I asked back at him. 

" It is the green line." 

 "Ah, I like that a lot!" he laughingly said. 

I continued, " We got off the autostrada and are a side road that is slow and scenic. But we are still moving forward." 

The green line is found in the Michelin road maps.  Alongside segments of different types of road there is an adjacent green line indicating scenic views. We always try to get on those to wherever we are going.

Reading between the lines of Randy's question is a heartache. One of his key employees, younger than him, suffered a massive heart attack over two weeks ago and has been in a coma since. Everyday we check for updates and pray for him and his family. At the same time, I am grateful all over again for the gift of a time out to take the green line, for his  business partners, and especially for Randy. 

The Musts of Maranello and Modena

Friday found the Shier Five cruising in a Lancia "Delta" to Maranello and Modena. Maranello was the hometown of Enzo Ferrari and is still the current site of his factory, dynasty and legend. Al is currently working on a project for a Ferrari theme ride in Dubai, so we had to help him do research and connect with his Italian business contact. It was a must do. Although we never saw his associate, we did get VIP treatment with access into the exclusive RM/ Sotheby's Auction Preview of antique, rare and private collections of Ferraris, titled "Leggenda e Passione." We were hob-nobbing with the Whose Who, of whom I do not have clue. What I did know was  I "fidn't dit," when the auction catalogue was available for only a measly price of 70 euro. The reserved bids on the cars ranged from 65,000 Euros for a '69  365 GT Ferrari to 5.5 million Euros for the mint '62 250 GT California Ferrari. Two bid estimates had no stated price other than "available upon request." One of those cars was a rare '57 250 Testa Rossa..... The benevolent  auction item, a Ferrari donation, was the last F430 off the 2008 line. All funds were going to help the L'Aquila earthquake victims. If these prices are too steep to bid on, there was a set of postcards and media material starting at 5,ooo E.  

We were privileged to be right at the test track to watch owners of new Ferraris drive their works of art on the circuit. You could see their smiles through the fence.

From there it was a recommended must do lunch @ Ristorante Montana, where the Ferrari drivers and management hang out. There is no menu. Your options are what Mama Rosalee decides that day. It was the best pasta in Italy yet and it all came at the same time! The decor was Ferrari racing paraphernalia, including helmets, spare parts and lots of signatures. 

Fully Ferrari'd, we headed to Modena, home of the balsamic vinegar. After walking through the historic center with its covered arcades and cobbled streets, we went to an "agriturismo," a functioning Acetaia (balsamic vinegar winery). Surprisingly, Modena within itself does not promote its world renowned product.

 Davide gave us a tour of his Acetaia and four tastings. A true Modena Balsamic vinegar is made from only white Trebbiano and red Lambrusco grapes. No vinegar, colorings or sulphites added. Just traditional passion and grape must (crush).  The entire process, a minimum 3 years up to 30 years, goes through a series of 5 barrels, each sucessively smaller. The older the barrel the better. Tasting the 12 yr and the 25 year old balsamic was a tanatalizing hint of a golden nectar made in heaven. It costs about the same too, understandably. The older mellowed balsamic is a very good digestive apertif.  Thankfully, the Japanese asked for a high quality, moderately priced condiment. A 3 year old vinegar without additives that everyone can enjoy.  So now we must....

Cinque Terre

Cinque Terre is literally "the Five Lands" on the western Ligurian Coast. Each little town has a unique flavour waiting to be discovered, just like yummy gelatos. This area is also the original home of pesto and foccacia. Of course we gladly ate our share and yours! Enough in fact for the next six months!

 The Cinque Terre is five picturesque, pastel-painted towns clinging to rugged cliffs, as if their lives depended on it. (And they do, based on the high tourist volume). The main attraction is a five hour, connected hike from Riomaggiore to Monterosso via Manarola, Corniglia, and Vernazza. These towns are only accessible to each other via this path and train. The hike begins with the Via D'Amore, a flat, wide, smooth pathway, very similar to Stanley Park's Seawall. From there it gets progressively more rugged and narrower, wrapping along the cliff's edge through terraced vineyards and olive orchards, and undulating through gulleys and over precipices with breathtaking views around each corner. The camera shutters  were on overdrive! Of course my little german boy, Randy, and his brother loved the WWII German pillbox and played a game of "Band of Brothers".

We based ourselves in the fourth town, Vernazza. The main street is no more than 400 meters from  the train platform to the water's edge, lined with classic small town characters in their shops. The street was empty and had closed shop by 9 pm and struggled to be alive the next morning by 8:30am for the anxiously hungry and scheduled tourist. 

Conquering the first three hikes the first day we saved the longest, from Vernazza to Monterosso, for the second day. Randy and I were here in 2001 and loved it. So to be able to experience it again with Al, Des and Hannah was extra special for us. There is a new delight in seeing a known through someone else's lens. It also felt we were on a holiday from our holiday. Breaking from the craziness of looming architecture, throngs of people and noxious smells in Florence, to God's palette of soft verdant foliage, fresh sea breezes complemented by crashing waves and rugged beauty, was a gift. Seeing how man has squeezed and adapted himself onto this canvas was also inspiring. We also took a short train north and hiked to Portofino. It is the antithesis of Vernazza. Portofino is a small luxury port for the rich, famous, posers and us.  

 Hannah and I both affirmed we have the ocean blood in us. It is at the seashore where we feel most at home. Our spirits are calmed by the rhythm of the waves. No matter what is going on around me, the waves wash in and out, giving and taking, as guided by the hand of God. Herein is my comfort and contentment. 

Heading home, of course the train was late and took longer, but with Al along, he is always good for some extra free entertainment. Arriving back home in Florence mid-day, invigorated by nature, we took to going for a bike ride again along the Arno..... 

Type A's.

First an apology for the delay in posting. We have been exceptionally busy and not around the computer much and when we have, Hannah has been busy downloading photos and doing homework.

Thus said, Italy is getting better and more exciting by the day. She is waking up... I feel like I am covered in bruises from pinching myself to make sure all is real. To summarize, Randy's brother Al and his wife Des arrived last Friday, the 8th, Rachael left early on Saturday 9th for Austria for 5 months. We were in the Cinque Terre from Tuesday to Thursday and Maranello, the home of Ferrari on Friday, with Al and Des departing yesterday morning, the 16th. All of these experiences are worth a blog each, therefore this first one will be just about North American, Type A personalities in Italy.

They do not mesh well. Period. Unless Mr. or Ms. Type A is willing to undergo character development or let go. To quote Rachael, "Traveling is not a vacation here!" Expectations need to be either thrown out the train window or anticipated as a dessert. Just because you all order primi piatti (first course), is no guarantee that they will all come at the same time. Tip for future traveler; order your plates and just enjoy them , in the order they come. You have no control. Expect the train to be late or take longer than scheduled and rejoice when it doesn't. 

Also, if the restaurant or car rental store says it will be open or advertises a product, don't hold your breath, it may not... yet... a little later.... they will. 

The plaguing question is why?

My humble opinion is simply that Italians are creative and passionate. In creativity and passion there is little credence for time.  The strength of the Italian culture breeds this mindset and thus, cutting edge fashion, ultimate cars, and world renowned artists flourish.  The weak side is poor service and the lack of value for time management. Type A's feel frustration and a loss of control.  It is not a disrespect although it is perceived as such. 

I must say, Randy, Hannah and I now just laugh and wait for the serendipitous and amusedly watch new tourists working this out. 

Cycling along the Arno

 Cycling can be dangerous, or fun, or both, depending on where in Florence you bike. It started off a little "sketchy" as we biked through the streets of Florence from piazza Santa Croce. Dodging cars, motorcycles, people and other bikes proved stressful, but as we progressed further from the historic centre, it got easier. The best part was Cascine Park, stretching several kilometers along the Arno river. See the attached video.

Funny T-shirt spotted today near San Lorenzo market:

IN HEAVEN

The policemen are English,

The cooks are French,

The bankers are Swiss,

The dancers are Spanish,

The lovers are Italian,

And it is all organized by the Germans.

IN HELL

The policemen are French,

The cooks are English,

The bankers are Spanish,

The dancers are Swiss,

The lovers are German,

And it is all organized by the Italians.

Hockey in Italy

Waiting at a train station the other day, I was perusing a discarded newspaper, La Nazione, and came across the 7 page sports section. I found no news on the Canucks. Thank goodness for the internet. Go Canucks go. Beat the Hawks! Anyway, I'm sure you won't be surprised by the contents. The first five pages had soccer. The next page had cycling and Moto GP. The last page was dedicated to Formula 1. There you go sports fans. Now you know what Italians are into. I miss hockey and am in need of a fix. By the way, hockey is unknown in Italy.

Lucca - circles and ovals

A 2 hour train ride to Lucca was worth the effort. Hannah's friend Christina and her Dad (our friend Brad), are visiting us for a week, and came along. Lucca was full of surprises - a canal bisecting the town (it reminded me of Bruges, Belgium), completely intact fortified walls - 4 km long circling the town, ornate and delicate romanesque church facades, pedestrian friendly - narrow streets, clock and palazzo towers, welcoming parks, handsome piazzas and not too many tourists. Lucca, established by the romans in 89 BC, still shows some of its ancient past in the remnants of its amphitheatre, forum and two main streets.

The two highlights for me were cycling and exploring the piazzas. We rented bikes and rode on the tree-lined ramparts encircling Lucca. It was windy and at times rainy, but we didn't care. Fun can sometimes be enhanced when gusts and deluge are involved. 

My favourite plaza was piazza dell' Anfiteatro. This colourful, oval piazza retains the shape and some of the walls of the ancient amphitheatre on which it is built. Kids were kicking a soccer ball, shops and cafes spilled out from the buildings and people pivoted, doing 360's to take in the ovalesque view. This pivoting is probably not unlike some of the gladiator moves, some 2000 years ago.

Back on the train for Firenze we all felt like Lucca is a place beckoning further exploration. I certainly hope to return someday to this "bella" tuscan town.