Italy Day 7/8: The End
It was our final full day in Italy. We had saved the best activity for last: our bike tour through the Tuscan wine country. It was good timing on our part: we had gotten over our jet lag and by Friday the rains had passed. The sun was out and it was a perfect 72 degrees.
We were picked up in Firenze by the 2 people who run the bike tour, and they drove us up to the garage outside of the city where they keep all of the equipment. We suited up and tried to figure out those dern helmets.
We were ready to take on the world!
The tour was a pleasant series of trade-offs between riding for a bit and taking breaks for food and drink and photos.
One of the places we went to was an actual winery, to sample the local wine. As we arrived, I noticed it bore the Machiavelli name and was like, "Oh, Machiavelli. That's funny. It must be like Smith over here."
As it turns out, it's the actual Machiavelli's house. This was where he came when he was banished from Firenze, and went from being a government official to being a farmer. He was totally bummed and started writing here, and this place was where he wrote most of his influential stuff like, say, "The Prince." Later it was turned into a winery and olive oil producer.
This is the view from his backyard.
It was a really cool old house, and mostly unchanged over the years.
I loved the texture of the layers and layers of stone masonry over each other, a dozen sections peeking out from here and there.
I became slightly obsessed with photos outta windows.
We went down to the underground section where they keep the vats of wine to ferment (I can't remember what this section is called). It was cold and musty and spacious.
They had the absolute worst recreation of The David that I hope to see in my lifetime. He even has a fig leaf over the important part.
And this well went down further than the eye could see.
We met this super old guy who's been working there since he was a teenager. He was really sweet excited to have his photo taken with four American girls.
Then we went over to the ristorante to sample the wine and olive oil.
The guide we had was nice and pretty dorky. He reminded us of our old boss from Channel 8.
The wine was soooooooo good! They let us sample two bottles and ironically, the cheaper one was the best. They also gave us some amazing bruschetta, sitting in a puddle of olive oil. You'd think that'd be gross, but you'd be wrong.
Sure, this is an uncouth way of consuming olive oil, but hey, we're all friends here.
This wine is from like 1970.
After another short bike ride, we ended up in a little town with those typical Italian streets.
We had lunch at a ristorante that was empty except for us and one or two other tables. Shannon and Jennifer took this time to make fun of the way I ride my bike up a steep hill. (apparently it involves hunching.)
It was all downhill (and uphill and downhill and uphill again) from there.
We took many pictures.
Right after this stopping point was the most awesome downhill free-ride ever! You could hear nothing but the wind rushing in your ears and, every once in awhile, one of the other girls yelling "Woo-hoo!!!"
We stopped in a couple of other towns on our tour.
I loved this old couple standing out on their balcony together.
Sigh. This was an all-day excursion. We met up at 10am, and didn't get back to Firenze until 6pm. That is a LONG day of riding. We were that beautiful kind of exhausted that comes from a day of vacation adventuring.
After everything, our last stop was to a wee cafè where we had some cold beverages.
"Ah, refreshment!!"
Side note: this is what all Italian men look like under the age of 75. Well-dressed, chic, good hair, and totally adorable. (although I think these particular men were teenagers.)
After a bathroom mirror shot...
... we were on our way back to Firenze.
Tired, we were.
Imagine having to walk all the way through Firenze after that to catch the bus back to our apartment. We nearly died, but at least it was lovely to look at, the sun setting over the town on our last evening.
Oh, for one more gelato. We stopped in at this teeny tiny hidden-away gelateria on our way to the bus. I had spicy chocolate. Holy Lord was it delicious.
And we stopped at one more place to use the bathroom and its cool mirror! I don't know why I take so many mirror photos of myself.
We slowly made our way back home.
It was the perfect way to spend our last day in Italia.
The next morning we got up bright 'n' early to take one of the absolute stupidest routes out of Italy: From Firenze down to Roma, then Roma up to Pisa (which is an hourlong train ride from Firenze), then Pisa to NY. Poor Kerri then had to go from NY to AZ the next day. But whatever, it all worked out, and we didn't miss any flights! Shannon promptly installed some earplugs to sleep.
... while Kerri wrote her last thoughts in the journal and I looked through all of our photos from the week.
Even in our final hours in Italia they treated our tastebuds right with these sesame crackers and blood orange juice.
At the Roma airport, Kerri paid tribute to her personal hero...
... and I had one last cappuccino and a Nutella snack pack! Amazing amazing!!
We had to find some way to keep ourselves amused during the layover, so we played with shiny things.
... and sang along to the Alicia Keys song "Juicy."
Finally we boarded the New York flight in Pisa. At one point I had some garbage to throw away and went looking for a flight attendant... when I found one I was so used to trying to speak Italian that I started throwing out what I thought were Italian words for "trash" and making hand gestures. "Cool, no problem," replied the totally American stewardess. Needless to say, I was embarrassed.
But not as embarrassed as I should have been when we took this photo. It's supposed to be "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil" with an eye mask revisionist slant. But masks are hard to put on your ears, so I settled for "smell no evil."
So there you have it, the best trip of my life. It was a lovely combination of relaxation, adventure and cultural enrichment. It's amazing how rejuvenating it can be to remove yourself completely from your normal life, from the mundaneness of everyday life... to use a different part of your brain and try to speak another language. To be housed in structures that were built to last, made of solid brick and mortar. To eat completely fresh food and drink the best coffee and wine of your life. To breathe new air, see new (old) buildings and share space with art and architecture created by true geniuses, hundreds of years before you were even a thought in your parents' hearts.
I was lucky enough to be able to share the experience with three of the people I love and care about most in the world. And the four of us are lucky enough to have every experience, insight, inside joke, receipt, wine label, and postcard saved in this book... with Scotch tape.
love,
*jenna*
We were picked up in Firenze by the 2 people who run the bike tour, and they drove us up to the garage outside of the city where they keep all of the equipment. We suited up and tried to figure out those dern helmets.
We were ready to take on the world!
The tour was a pleasant series of trade-offs between riding for a bit and taking breaks for food and drink and photos.
One of the places we went to was an actual winery, to sample the local wine. As we arrived, I noticed it bore the Machiavelli name and was like, "Oh, Machiavelli. That's funny. It must be like Smith over here."
As it turns out, it's the actual Machiavelli's house. This was where he came when he was banished from Firenze, and went from being a government official to being a farmer. He was totally bummed and started writing here, and this place was where he wrote most of his influential stuff like, say, "The Prince." Later it was turned into a winery and olive oil producer.
This is the view from his backyard.
It was a really cool old house, and mostly unchanged over the years.
I loved the texture of the layers and layers of stone masonry over each other, a dozen sections peeking out from here and there.
I became slightly obsessed with photos outta windows.
We went down to the underground section where they keep the vats of wine to ferment (I can't remember what this section is called). It was cold and musty and spacious.
They had the absolute worst recreation of The David that I hope to see in my lifetime. He even has a fig leaf over the important part.
And this well went down further than the eye could see.
We met this super old guy who's been working there since he was a teenager. He was really sweet excited to have his photo taken with four American girls.
Then we went over to the ristorante to sample the wine and olive oil.
The guide we had was nice and pretty dorky. He reminded us of our old boss from Channel 8.
The wine was soooooooo good! They let us sample two bottles and ironically, the cheaper one was the best. They also gave us some amazing bruschetta, sitting in a puddle of olive oil. You'd think that'd be gross, but you'd be wrong.
Sure, this is an uncouth way of consuming olive oil, but hey, we're all friends here.
This wine is from like 1970.
After another short bike ride, we ended up in a little town with those typical Italian streets.
We had lunch at a ristorante that was empty except for us and one or two other tables. Shannon and Jennifer took this time to make fun of the way I ride my bike up a steep hill. (apparently it involves hunching.)
It was all downhill (and uphill and downhill and uphill again) from there.
We took many pictures.
Right after this stopping point was the most awesome downhill free-ride ever! You could hear nothing but the wind rushing in your ears and, every once in awhile, one of the other girls yelling "Woo-hoo!!!"
We stopped in a couple of other towns on our tour.
I loved this old couple standing out on their balcony together.
Sigh. This was an all-day excursion. We met up at 10am, and didn't get back to Firenze until 6pm. That is a LONG day of riding. We were that beautiful kind of exhausted that comes from a day of vacation adventuring.
After everything, our last stop was to a wee cafè where we had some cold beverages.
"Ah, refreshment!!"
Side note: this is what all Italian men look like under the age of 75. Well-dressed, chic, good hair, and totally adorable. (although I think these particular men were teenagers.)
After a bathroom mirror shot...
... we were on our way back to Firenze.
Tired, we were.
Imagine having to walk all the way through Firenze after that to catch the bus back to our apartment. We nearly died, but at least it was lovely to look at, the sun setting over the town on our last evening.
Oh, for one more gelato. We stopped in at this teeny tiny hidden-away gelateria on our way to the bus. I had spicy chocolate. Holy Lord was it delicious.
And we stopped at one more place to use the bathroom and its cool mirror! I don't know why I take so many mirror photos of myself.
We slowly made our way back home.
It was the perfect way to spend our last day in Italia.
The next morning we got up bright 'n' early to take one of the absolute stupidest routes out of Italy: From Firenze down to Roma, then Roma up to Pisa (which is an hourlong train ride from Firenze), then Pisa to NY. Poor Kerri then had to go from NY to AZ the next day. But whatever, it all worked out, and we didn't miss any flights! Shannon promptly installed some earplugs to sleep.
... while Kerri wrote her last thoughts in the journal and I looked through all of our photos from the week.
Even in our final hours in Italia they treated our tastebuds right with these sesame crackers and blood orange juice.
At the Roma airport, Kerri paid tribute to her personal hero...
... and I had one last cappuccino and a Nutella snack pack! Amazing amazing!!
We had to find some way to keep ourselves amused during the layover, so we played with shiny things.
... and sang along to the Alicia Keys song "Juicy."
Finally we boarded the New York flight in Pisa. At one point I had some garbage to throw away and went looking for a flight attendant... when I found one I was so used to trying to speak Italian that I started throwing out what I thought were Italian words for "trash" and making hand gestures. "Cool, no problem," replied the totally American stewardess. Needless to say, I was embarrassed.
But not as embarrassed as I should have been when we took this photo. It's supposed to be "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil" with an eye mask revisionist slant. But masks are hard to put on your ears, so I settled for "smell no evil."
So there you have it, the best trip of my life. It was a lovely combination of relaxation, adventure and cultural enrichment. It's amazing how rejuvenating it can be to remove yourself completely from your normal life, from the mundaneness of everyday life... to use a different part of your brain and try to speak another language. To be housed in structures that were built to last, made of solid brick and mortar. To eat completely fresh food and drink the best coffee and wine of your life. To breathe new air, see new (old) buildings and share space with art and architecture created by true geniuses, hundreds of years before you were even a thought in your parents' hearts.
I was lucky enough to be able to share the experience with three of the people I love and care about most in the world. And the four of us are lucky enough to have every experience, insight, inside joke, receipt, wine label, and postcard saved in this book... with Scotch tape.
love,
*jenna*
posted by jenna at 11:32 AM
2 Comments:
"Those wine bottles are SO fucking old!"
Wonderful, wonderful travelogue. Seemed I felt, tasted and heard it all. Well, almost. Makes me want to go! Thanks, girls, for all your photos that will stay with us, too!
mom
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