Ornoth

Since my March trip to Southeast Asia wasn’t enough travel, in May I spent a week in Tuscany, just outside Florence, Italy.

Long before Inna accepted a six-month work assignment in Malaysia, her not-too-far-flung immediate family held a small reunion in Washington DC. They enjoyed that gathering so much that they decided the only way to improve upon it would be to repeat it… in Italy! Thus plans were laid.

The villa driveway, lined with olive trees

Our villa and grapevines seen from the road

The south side of our villa, with backdrop

Arches and patio on the south side

I’m in a Tuscan villa!

West side villa entrance

North side patio & our bedroom

Inna & Ornoth on the north patio

Tuscan daybreak

View from our villa bedroom door

More farm villas northwest of us

To the northeast: hillsides

Villa east of us

Eastern villa framed

View south, toward the road

Italian cypress cones

Pottery gravel

A poppy in the road

Tuscan flowery

Stray felis has something to say!

Understanding that I’m very much not a family person, Inna offered me the option of staying home. However, the closest I’ve ever gotten to Europe was a 2002 trip to Scotland, and it was also a chance for us to spend more time together in the middle of her long work assignment in Malaysia. Furthermore, Tuscany has a well-advertised reputation as a cycling paradise.

It even seemed like the right thing to do financially! I’d just closed my mother’s estate and received my share of her residual assets. She would have wanted me to use the money for something fun, rather than simply socking it away, and my using some of it on a trip to Europe would have pleased her. Though she would have raised a forbearing eyebrow at my earlier trip to Malaysia, Thailand, and Singapore!

Booking our flights was challenging. Back in March, Inna had obtained her tickets through her employer, piggy-backing an Italy stopover onto the end of a company-paid visit home from Kuala Lumpur. I purchased my flights separately a month later, which made it very difficult for us to travel together; more on that below.

When May rolled around, Inna came back to Pittsburgh for a brief but welcome stay at home before our departure for Florence.

Friday, May 11 2018

We had a relaxed day, with oddly-timed evening departures. I was booked on United 6015 from Pittsburgh to Dulles, leaving at 7:30pm. Inna’s Lufthansa flight 8797—also from Pittsburgh to Dulles—was scheduled to leave just ten minutes later.

Although convenient, having two flights ten minutes apart to the same destination seemed bizarre. So I looked into it when I checked in, and discovered that LH 8797 was just a codeshare with UA 6015. So although we were on different flight numbers, on different airlines, with different departure and arrival times, we were actually on the same flight!

Although Inna was out shopping at that time, I signed into the Lufthansa site under her name and changed her seat assignment so that we could sit together, which was a pleasant surprise.

We had dinner at an airport restaurant, where Inna had a veggie burger with real bacon: something she can’t get in Muslim Malaysia. I had pulled pork with jalapenos over french fries and two colas, which caused a lot of inopportune cramping on the brief flight to DC. Fortunately, I was distracted from my gastric distress by a Debbie Harry-lookalike stewardess, complete with platinum blonde hair, stiletto heels, and drugged-out demeanor. Once I had a love, and it was a gas…

We enjoyed the traditional people-crawler transfer at Dulles and noted the stark, outdated architecture, recalling that our friend Sheela’s father had helped construct the terminal buildings. Then it was time for the big intercontinental redeye from DC to Munich.

I’d known from the start that we would be together on this flight, and had booked myself a seat just across the aisle from Inna. However once we boarded, our goal was for me to swap seats with the person next to her. The guy was cheerfully willing, so we happily got to be together once more! It made the travel much easier for both of us.

Neither of us sleep well on planes, and that proved true again this time. And while we were in the air, not sleeping, we crossed over into:

Saturday, May 12 2018

A little after noon local time, we arrived in Munich. It was my first-ever landfall in continental Europe, and my new record for farthest travel to the east (having set new high-water marks south- and westward six weeks earlier). And upon entering the European Union, we each got a new piece of German “cheese” at immigration. I should mention that we call passport stamps “cheese” because it’s the little reward we traveling rodents seek at the end of the rat-maze of stanchions and rope cords.

The Munich airport was a wonderful experience. No televisions, no crowd-control music… even the people were quiet! So refreshing!

However, here Inna and I finally had to go separate ways. When I’d booked my travel, her 2:40pm flight had been full, so I was relegated to the subsequent flight, four hours later. At her gate, we learned that the guy I’d swapped seats with on our last flight was also headed to Florence. He and Inna struck up a conversation and boarded the bus to their flight; meanwhile I had something to take care of…

When we’d arrived in Munich, it hadn’t been clear whether we had to do the baggage claim-and-recheck shuffle upon entering the EU. We’d just skipped it, but having received “baggage exception” warnings by text message at both Dulles and Munich, I decided to ask an attendant what we should do. He said to exit the terminal and go to baggage claim, which I did. When our bags weren’t there, I went to the lost baggage counter, where a helpful woman told me that our bags would automatically be sent on to Florence. This was happily confirmed an hour later, when Inna landed and retrieved her bag.

Meanwhile, I went back through a security checkpoint into the terminal for my 7:05 departure. At the far end of an hour and a half flight to Florence, my bag jauntily popped out of the carousel, and I went outside to catch the rental car shuttle. I got no Italian “cheese” for travel within the EU.

I was a little wary of the car rental agency, since Inna’s sister and her boyfriend had just been declined by theirs. However, with my international driving permit in hand, my experience went smoothly. In a few minutes I was piloting a sizeable manual-transmission diesel Peugeot SUV onto the notoriously challenging streets of Italy, in the dark!

Fortunately, I’d downloaded offline data for Google Maps, and its directions were unambiguous and accurate. I made my way to the highway, negotiated an interchange onto the toll Autostrada, got to my local exit, and paid the toll in Euros I’d converted in Munich. But then I discovered the challenges of the Italian street network.

Oh my gawd! Ridiculously steep hillsides, blind turns every 300 meters, and roads rarely wide enough for a car and bicycle to pass, never mind two cars. In many places it’s so narrow that only one car can pass, and there are signs indicating whether cars approaching the bottleneck from one direction or the other have right of way! It reminded me of driving on Caribbean islands like St. John and St. Thomas. Although frequently maligned, I found Italian drivers predictable and safe; it’s the roads that are insane!

Eventually I found the right unmarked gate on the right tiny back road that led to the villa that Inna’s family had rented in Mezzomonte, halfway between the suburban towns of Impruneta and Grassina. At the end of a long gravel driveway between olive trees, I parked to find Inna, her mother, her father, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend sitting outside on a terrace enjoying the evening.

After suitable greetings, I found the bedroom, unpacked, and settled in for a good night of sleep.

Sunday, May 13 2018

Everyone’s primary goal Sunday morning was to sleep off their jet lag, get settled, and stock up on groceries. That suited me, especially since I wanted my own cache of food and couldn’t rent a bike on Sunday.

When I got up, I noticed text messages from Inna’s sister, saying she and her father were leaving for the grocery. I quickly messaged back that I wanted to go with them, and wound up climbing up the hill to the gate to meet them as they waited.

They’d found a substantial grocery store in Grassina, where—after briefly trying to shop collaboratively with Inna’s foodie relatives—I strode off on my own and expeditiously got the things I needed for the week.

Back at the villa, Inna gave me a tour of the 15th century farm, which included a pool, several patios, two kitchens, a tower loft bedroom, and wood-fired bread oven. With a view over the olive trees and grape vines to the cascade of distant ridges and valleys beyond, it was picturesque and idyllic. Inna and I also appreciated the eclectic collection of foreign-language books, and the framed artwork mounted at cat’s-eye level!

We had an informal group lunch of pasta, accompanied by lots of linguistics talk that switched between Russian, Italian, English, and Spanish, with a little French, German, and Hebrew thrown in. Supper was boiled chickpeas and a tomato salad, thankfully accompanied by meatballs.

All told, a quiet day of getting settled and exploring the villa. The weather was surprisingly cool for Tuscany and partly cloudy.

Monday, May 13 2018

I got up and gathered some early-morning photos in a heavy overcast. I discovered that in such an ancient place, the gravel roads are nearly half comprised of old shards of broken pottery, so I collected a few interesting bits to take home as mementos.

Having purchased 72-hour tourist passes, the family all left for the first of three days in Florence. Having other plans, I made myself breakfast, then drove to a bike shop in nearby Falciani and rented a bike. I brought it home and took a short but effort-ful six-mile spin as a shakedown ride.

Rather than going into it here, I’ve put all the details about my cycling exploits into my Tuscany cycling blogpost on my cycling blog. Read that if you want more detail about my rental bike, rides, and impressions of Tuscany as a cycling destination.

While the family had dinner in Florence, I enjoyed having the villa to myself and making my own supper. When the family returned later that evening, they retreated directly to their respective rooms and climbed into bed.

Tuesday, May 15 2018

Inna decided to stay at the villa and spend Tuesday with me, while the others returned for another day in Florence. It was a quiet day with very English/European weather: heavy overcast, cool and breezy, with about 10 percent sun and 20 percent rain.

Inna and I made an afternoon trip to Impruneta, then off to neighboring Tavarnuzze to hit a small grocery, since Inna hadn’t come with us on Sunday. Pulling out of the parking spot, I scraped the side of the car against a plastic bollard. The barely-noticeable marks were just enough to evoke some added anxiety for the rest of the week, having heard rumors of Italian rental places aggressively charging foreigners for damages both new and pre-existing.

Wednesday, May 16 2018

Woke up to another day of cool rain and overcast. I had to agree with our friend Noah, who compared it to Oregon. Tho to be honest, my numerous trips to the Pacific Northwest have all been graced by better weather than we had in Tuscany.

Everyone set off for a final day in Florence. Although I had little faith in the weather, I decided to attempt a modest 27-mile ride. I experienced missed turns, pouring rain, closed roads, and the route I’d downloaded from the bike shop went off-road onto impassable farm paths. I abandoned the bike shop’s route and proceeded on busier but well-paved primary roads. You can read more about the ride in my Tuscany cycling blogpost.

After returning to the villa, I made myself another chicken dinner, making best use of the villa’s limited spice selection. The family, after having difficulty with their car’s headlights the night before, got home early and made pasta carbonara for dinner, which I sampled and enjoyed, despite having eaten already.

Thursday, May 17 2018

Having exhausted their tourist passes, Inna’s sister and father took off and explored historic San Gimignano, while the others stayed at home and rested.

One of the things I’d most looked forward to was spending a day at the Giro d’Italia, a major three-week professional cycling stage race, the Italian sister event to the Tour de France. Stage 12 finished in Imola on Thursday, two hours’ drive each way, which was as close as it would come to Florence.

However, at the exact same time as the Giro stage finish in Imola, online registration was going to open for a meditation retreat that I absolutely wanted to get into. Ironically, while meditation retreats are a haven of silence and peace, they’re also in high demand, so the registration process can be as competitive and frenetic as trying to secure tickets to a Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin concert. If I wanted to get in, I had to be online when registration opened.

There was no way to do both, and in the end I stayed home and registered for the retreat, missing the Giro in much the same way as I’d missed the Tour de Langkawi professional bike race during my recent visit to Malaysia.

In addition, I wanted to get one last bike ride in on Thursday, because I had to return the rental the next morning. Although I’d hoped to get at least one long ride in, I had to be back at the villa by 3pm to register for the retreat.

So I set out for a short ride down into the Chianti region and back, this time following only primary roads. When the clouds opened up and poured on me again, I was glad I hadn’t planned anything more ambitious. Again, more details in the Tuscany cycling blogpost.

Supper was more pasta with the family, then a round of an Italian “spaghetti western” game called “Bang!”, followed by a silly Russian game called “Privyet Valyet”.

Friday, May 18 2018

After breakfast and a group photo, the family set off to visit Siena. I would have eagerly tagged along and checked out the Torre del Mangia—the inspiration for Boston’s Pine Street Inn and Provincetown’s Pilgrim Monument—but I had to return the bike to the rental shop. While out, I saw numerous cyclists out on the roads, enjoying what wound up being the first warm, sunny day since we’d arrived.

Back at the villa, I ran a load of laundry, checked into my flights back to Pittsburgh, and tried to eat as many of the leftover groceries as I could.

When everyone came home, a stray tuxedo cat who’d been hanging around the neighborhood showed up, so I hustled Inna outside, where she made a new friend.

The villa’s guest book advertised lots of local sights and services, and Inna’s father and sister had secretly contracted to have a recommended local chef come to the villa and prepare dinner on our last night at the villa as a surprise offering for Inna’s imminent birthday.

The menu included eggplant, gnocchi, chicken, zucchini, and ricotta. The more culinarily adventurous enjoyed it, although it was difficult for me. I would rather have selected my own food, especially right before a 21-hour journey.

Saturday, May 19 2018

For the first time in a week, the morning of our departure provided a sunny, cloudless sky, and temperatures well into the 70s.

After final packing and loading up the car, we went downstairs to the owner’s patio for a light breakfast. Inna and I had to leave for the airport at 10am, so we said our goodbyes to everyone else, as they would later drive up to Venice to spend another day or two.

Despite missing the on-ramp for the Autostrade, Inna and I got into town, returned the rental car, hopped the shuttle, and got to the airport in reasonable time. At baggage check, I got stuck behind five American girls (exchange students) and their 15 pieces of luggage, and noted that in the line and throughout the airport the population was a solid 75 percent female.

My flight (to Pittsburgh via Frankfurt and Chicago) was at 1pm, but Inna’s (to Kuala Lumpur via Amsterdam) wasn’t until 5. Because it was too early to check her bag, she was unable go through security to see me off, so we said our goodbyes and I continued to my gate, while she killed time on her own. It’ll be another 2-3 months before I see her again.

After another bus-to-the-plane and boarding, I was seated in the middle of thirty of those American girls heading home. But I did enjoy when the Lufthansa stewardess offered, “Haben sie ein schön und schnell pflug.”

90 minutes to Frankfurt, where I got my EU exit visa stamp and boarded the long 9-hour flight to O’Hare. I think it was my first time in a 747, and I wasn’t looking forward to it, since I’d had to take an internal middle seat, rather than my usual window. I was surprised to find that I was seated in a bulkhead row, and that I’d booked a “premium economy” seat, which was a noticeable upgrade from cattle car. So although I couldn’t sleep, the flight was tolerably uncomfortable…

… except for landing behind schedule, which was the beginning of O’Hare Airport Hell. Our late arrival ate 30 minutes out of my 2-hour layover, followed by an extended delay getting off the 747. I fast-walked to customs only to see a line of people waiting. Huh, a long line. No, a fucking unbelievable line! A line—with no exaggeration— two or three people wide, the length of two football fields. So much for my connection!

Somehow, the line started moving, and I eventually got through customs and immigration. From there it was all lightning-sprint through baggage claim, baggage re-check, the inter-terminal tram, through Concourse B, and the underground moving walks to Concourse C. As I reached my gate, they were boarding the last stragglers of Boarding Group 4, and I was the fourth-to-last person to board.

It was ironic that with a two-hour layover I’d barely made my connection, while we’d been very concerned about Inna having less than 90 minutes to make her connection in Amsterdam, which she made quite comfortably. But at least I made it!

The short flight to Pittsburgh was my 16th flight in the past 6 weeks, and six of those flights have been longer than 7 hours; so I was extremely happy to finally be headed home! The only remaining question was whether my checked bag was coming home, too.

To my relief, my bag was the second one out of the baggage claim carousel, proudly bearing a big orange and black “Express Connection” sticker. It being shortly after midnight local time, I was eager to get home and crash. I hopped in the car, blitzed home, greeted a very affectionate house tiger, and climbed into bed at 1am. Inna was still in the air, with 2 hours left before landing on the opposite side of the planet, followed by an hour cab ride.

Overall

With certain caveats, it was a nice trip. Our villa was exquisite and serene, with a beautiful view overlooking vineyards, fields of olive trees, and wooded Apennine ridges. The villages were full of character and charm, and the roads scenic and pleasant. I got to spend more time with Inna, while also doing the things I preferred, like exploring the area by bike. Rather than hustling through museums and restaurants and tourist meccas, I prefer luxuriating in the natural environment and intimately experiencing the countryside.

Tuscany: whether you are into cycling, art, history, architecture, or food, it’s supposed to be amazing. But with such a lofty reputation preceding it, I expected a lot, and wound up disappointed in ways that are important to me.

The weather obviously wasn’t what I’d been led to expect from Italy. The days of cold rain—which the bike shop owner described as “terrible”—severely curtailed how much I could ride, and diminished my enjoyment of what riding I did do. That might not seem like a big loss to some people, but as a cyclist it was a primary goal of my trip, which I reserved several days for.

The other cause of disappointment was the coincidental timing of the nearest Giro d’Itala stage, the opening of registration for my meditation retreat, my desire to do a long ride, the family’s expedition to Siena, and having to return the bike early on Friday. Sadly, registering for the retreat and returning the bike on time were the least interesting but most important options in that list.

While Tuscany didn’t live up to its reputation or my own expectations, it was still a worthwhile and enjoyable trip, especially for Inna, whose perspective you can get here. Despite Tuscany’s allure and reputation as a cycling paradise, after a succession of cold, wet rides, I was glad to get back home to Pittsburgh, where it’s warm and sunny at least part of the time!

Panorama of our villa, looking north over the hills