Revisit Florence

Jon and I were up to catch the 6:45 Bus to Florence San Marco.  It is treat to walk through the deserted streets and see the real beauty of the city in the soft light of dawn with no tourists except us. The bar staff who are serving coffee and pastries and the whir of the machines can be heard spreading the rich aroma of fabulous Italian coffee.  Security people are setting up the barriers to herd the lines through the Duomo.  

We are up this early to take a small group tour of the Vasari Corridor, something we have wanted to do since we learned it was open.  The only way to get into it is on a private tour as the city has contracted the rights out to a select group of tour guides.  By the time we enter the Uffizi there are herds of people crowding into lines.  We have to endure a two hour tour of the gallery with crowds in every room.  Have twice had the museum almost to ourselves years ago this was the price to pay to see the private corridor.  I do find the radios with earphones are awesome in crowned control.  Also learned the 1993 bombing was mafia to kill a policeman and his whole family who lived in a home next to the gallery.  It changed the security at the museum.

There is a reason all these people come here.

The only painting Michalangelo ever painted.

Finally the double doors are carefully opened and we slip out of the crowds and into the corridor.  Designed and built so the Medici could walk from their palace to the government offices in safety and privacy.  It also allowed them to spy on their fellow Florentines in case they were hatching any evil plots.

It is full of lesser works of art and the real fun is the views. It is 1 km long.

Spying the people below is still possible.

They had an entrance to a private balcony in this church. They were having mass as we came by.

 

Jon has been waiting for lunch at Cinghiale Bianco where we have been going when in Florence for 25 years.  Still same family and same good food.

Now it is to crowded so we head back to the quiet hills of Fiesole.

Leaving Il Castagna

It is cool and clear as we pack up and prepare to leave. This has been two weeks of living like locals on holiday.  Trips to the seaside or the mountains with a few excursions to see the sights. Not a lot of selfies of any of us in front of anything.  A lot of it is written in our mind and consists of simple things. The warmth and openness of Claudio and Clara, Massimo and Letizia, and Andrea.  The great service Anna gave us daily in the villa and easy access to the owner, Franco, meant nothing but carefree pleasant days.

Laughter and fantastic food plus the sense of achievement in handling the Italian roads.  Little moments that made a great vacation.

Last night Anna prepared our farewell dinner at home.

The last day

Retail therapy for Patti and Beth.  Working those credit cards for more miles.

Celebrating!

Meanwhile Jon and John drove the mountain road to Bargechia through Camaiore and back.  Stunning views, heart stopping switchbacks.  The day was so clear they could see Corsica from the top.  John has become a total Italian driver.  Whizzes through roundabouts and meets upcoming cars at speed.

The beaches of Forte dei Marni

The beaches of the Tuscan coast are miles and miles of beach clubs each with it's long narrow strip of pristine fine sand ending in the tumbling surf.  Beautifully finished with deck chairs and gazebo's, changing rooms, restaurants and bars.  We said good bye to Randy and Diane on Thursday morning and then spent a few hours at Bagno Gilda's in Forte dei Marmi soaking up the happiness that the sea brings.

Additional pictures of Cinque Terra

Diane is exhausted at the train station.

A family visit

The Keirs are off to Florence and we are headed to Lavagna up the coast near Portofino to have lunch with Renata, Franco and Furia.

My driver almost wept as this beauty went blasting by us.  He just flat loves Ferrari.  The A12 to Genoa is interesting.  An engineering marvel that provides a nearly straight level highway through incredibly steep hills and mountains. The topography is is surreal. Hilltops and ledges wear a jumbled crown of stucco buildings, clinging to their precarious perchs, all topped with rich red clay roofs.  The thought of the roads up there gives me a migraine .

Meanwhile back on the road we are flying along at 130 km an hour and the car races through one tunnel and another and then from that surreal tube of darkness flies out unto a bridge that is so high we gasp,  it is hard to believe and before it sinks in another tunnel and then another bridge.  Wow, what an experience. 

Eventually we reach the Mini's seaside home and they take us to a very local restaurant for Genoese typical food.  Hearty.  It is great to see them and we all feel a lot of love and gratitude for being there, together.

Renata and Furia, daughter and mother.  The elegant and chic Furia is a vibrant 89 years old.

Full of energy and with a beautiful soul.  We bond without a common language.

Furia's car.  No wonder my daughter in law (her cousin) likes little red zippy cars. Furia's father was a race car driver who once won the Mille Miglia from Brescia to Rome in an Alfa Romeo.

Back home the way we came after lots of hugs. We will see them in Dallas at Christmas.

Back on our candle lit verandah Bethoven is playing a soft sonata and Mother Nature offers a masterpiece.

Villa day

Jon and stayed home and the Keirs went to shop and see the museum in Pietrasanta.  We got in a walk near the villa and we walked up for nearly half an hour.  Heart rate decidedly elevated and back down for screaming quads and abductors.  The forest is dotted with villas but much is just cliffs and forest.

Views of the plain below and the sea.

Stone walls covered with lichen line the road and these tiny wildflowers cling to the rocks.  

A drive to Montemagno at the top of the mountain is just drop dead gorgous with views of the valley carpeted with vineyards and olive groves punctuated with Italian cypress dotted with red tile roofed stone farms.  Meeting a few trucks and buses on the switchbacks keep Jon's knuckles pretty white.

The troops are back from Pietrasanta and we have to drink the big baby Diane bought so Jon makes Ragu with the leftover steak and last nights pasta.  Never let anything go to waste.

Diane kisses her baby goodbye. No room in the suitcase.