Venice, Fear, Fun, and Wine

The trouble with trying to write a fun travel blog when you are with five friends is there is no time to write a fun travel blog. The only reason I am doing this now is that I promised myself that I would and I think everyone else is still asleep.

On Monday we went to Venice. I have several friends who say Venice is their favorite city. One friend said he would move to Venice if he could. He lives on the water in Orange Beach, so I had very high expectations. We took the high speed train and were there in under two hours. Our lovely guide was a German woman who had lived in Venice for twenty years.We had little headsets so we could follow her through the narrow streets and alleys and hear her explanations. Venice is basically the Wall Street of Europe. It was built by and for businessmen who wanted to be safe from the political and religious wars. While it is now known for Murano Glass and velvet, it was built on the spice trade. You can walk around the entire city in under four hours. However, they say to “get lost in Venice” for a reason. The tiny streets lead everywhere and nowhere with no rhyme or reason. I can promise you I kept my group in sight at all times. I seriously thought about holding someone’s hand.

We toured St. Mark’s Basilica and climbed the ninety steps to see the city from the top. Being businessmen, they knew they needed a “good saint” to attract people and keep the Pope off their backs. So they went to Egypt and nicely asked the church that had St. Mark’s bones if they could have them. The Egyptian church said no. So, they waited until their hosts’ backs were turned and stole the bones. To get the skeleton through customs they covered it with pork. You can’t make this up people. There are giant, 18 carat gold murals telling the story on the front of the Basilica. Then, in adding on to the church, they put the bones away for safekeeping and LOST THEM. They lost the bones of the saint they had gone to so much trouble to steal. I’m pretty sure God was just messing with them. They prayed. A lot. And eventually a column broke open and the bones fell out. Again, there is a mosaic.

We finished our tour about 1pm wandered out to explore on our own in search of Murano glass and food. The tiny trattoria we found had upstairs seating and there was a large table of gondoliers seated near us. After a great meal, we did find Murano glass. Then wandered back slowly and aimlessly toward the Grand Canal enjoying the city.

One sad thing is that many of the villas (apartments) stand empty because the families that own them can’t afford to renovate them to livable standards. If you did have the millions required, you have to get permission which is draconian and slow. Then, you must add a new septic system, which involves excavation, so that means getting the archeologists involved. And, at any time the construction could cause the entire building to crumble. Needless to say the population is shrinking.

I am thrilled to have seen Venice, but unlike my friend in Orange Beach, I would keep the Gulf and let them have their canals.

On Tuesday we took a tour of Florence and the surrounding country side on an E-bike. This is like a regular bike, only it has a small motor which helps you climb hills and go faster on the flat lands. When we were planning this trip, Beth mentioned that she had done it and it was fun. Everyone was very excited. I thought it sounded like a terrible idea. I can ride a bike, but it has been years and was at the beach where everything is flat and there is very little traffic. I would never ride a bike in Crested Butte because I would die trying to climb the hills and I would die losing control trying to descend the hills. No one insisted I do it. Only Cindy even knew I was hesitant. So, off we went. It was spectacular. We saw parts of Florence we would have never seen. We went up large, winding hills with glorious views. We toured an organic olive farm and botanical garden. Truly one of the best things I have ever done.

Also, about that E-bike thing. I was scared stupid the entire time. Sometimes I was a little frightened. It was misty and, part of the time, rainy. ‘Florence traffic is fast and reckless. The motor, even on the lowest setting, pushes you forward faster than you would normally go. We had to maneuver tiny, traffic clogged streets, sharp turns often through gates or bars, and blind hairpin turns going both up and down the hills. Our lovely guide, Felicia, said at one time, “Please be careful. Florence traffic can be wild and very dangerous.” I had to consciously think about flowers and puppies and anything other than the fact that my guide had just confirmed all my fears. Coming down one long descent with sharp switchbacks, I slowed and turned too sharp and had to stop. I could see the rest of the descent in front of me. I froze. I could not move at all. Sally was behind me and asked if I needed to walk my bike. I knew if I got off that bike that they would be sending a van to pick me up because I would never get back on it. So, somehow I started again and made it to the end of the tour. At no time was I not afraid. I had a blast and would not have missed it for anything.

That afternoon we split up and Sally, Beth, and I walked a million miles in about three hours exploring, touring and shopping.

Tuesday evening we had dinner at Locale. It was Judy’s birthday so this was our very festive Michelin star dinner. I have learned to order very little at this kind of restaurant because you could be satisfied with the extras they pop in front of you. I had the risotto, and, next to Evans’ risotto, it was the best I have ever had. I have yet to eat risotto anywhere better than Evans can make. But the decor and service were way better than you will find at my house and I didn’t have to clean the kitchen.

Wednesday was our tour of the Wine Country. It is not helpful to say every day has been my favorite, but every day has been my favorite. We met our driver Claudia and our new best friends Dan and Amye, a newlywed couple from Jackson, Mississippi. The nine of us took up every seat in the van. All those hills we had ridden on bikes we now flew up in a van. For my East Tennessee friends, think driving to Piney very, very fast only on a road half as wide with an ancient wall on one side.

We visited three wineries and they were all very different. We started with Savignola Paolina. I learned that Chianti is best with food, which is probably why I always like Chianti. We tasted three wines along with bread and cheese. Luckily for Evans, I preferred the cheap stuff which is what I bought. The nicer wine they served is especially good with game, so I bought a few bottles in anticipation of the elk Evans is going to shoot next week.

From there we went to Altiero. The charming owner greeted us. He was probably in his early forties and had developed and expanded the winery over the last decade or so. First he explained all the things that regularly go wrong for wine makers and olive oil producers. White flies had invaded his olive trees killing his entire 2019 crop of olive oil. His vineyard was also regularly beset by roe deer and wild boars. We could see where a wild boar had torn up the ground right by his cellar. For the record I hate wild boars and believe they should be shot on sight. They do have organized boar hunts here but obviously not often enough. When he finally got around to talking about his wine, he told us there were three kinds: the best, the best in the world, and the best in the universe.

For our tasting we sat on their personal terrace and his wife served us pasta al pomodoro (a very thick tomato soup made with tomatoes, onions, and bread), bruschetta, and a saffron and zucchini rigatoni that was unlike anything I have ever had. It was delicious. We tried all his wines with lunch and several people ordered those as well.

On the way to our next winery, we stopped and toured a tiny Italian mountain village. It is basically one street of homes that makes a big semi-circle. It was mostly residential with one “bar” that looked like all the other houses except for the small wooden sign that said “bar.”

The final winery was Bartolini Baldelli. It has been producing wine continuously since the fifteenth century. In addition to the cellars, we toured the gardens of the estate. The views from there, even with mist and clouds, were like something from a painting.

Again we tried three wines, and they were all very good. Then they offered us a fourth. The wine maker had handed over production to his sister and nephew beginning in 2016. They let us taste both the 2016 and the 2015 of Caprosso. No offense to the nephew, but the old man has him beat by a mile. I ordered several bottles of the 2015. I have a few wine friends I want to impress so they will get this. It was lovely.

I also learned that I have been inaccurately maligning a nice Italian restaurant in Nashville. I have always said their olive oil is terrible. Actually, according to what I learned on this trip, their olive oil is excellent. I just don’t like it. I think I will stick with Kirkland.

Then we hurtled back down the mountain as if we were in a chase scene in a Bond movie. Italians drive like crazy people. I am fascinated that there is not a daily death tally.

When we arrived back at the villa, Erica, our concierge and chef was already preparing our dinner. It was our cooking class. She (and we to a much lesser extent) made pumpkin tortellini, Italian meatballs stuffed with olives, a lovely fennel salad, and sea bass roasted under a bed of herbed salt. Everything about it was delicious.

I have discovered a new kind of tired. It is when your body is completely exhausted and you still don’t go to bed because you are afraid you will miss something. Traveling with these ladies has been a joy and each day is somehow better than the one before it.