The Underground World of Orvieto

Orvieto is said to be perched "halfway between heaven and earth", overlooking the Umbrian countryside.  While the Duomo's facade is the most beautiful I have seen in the way that the sun reflects off the thousands of tiny colourful tiles,  the reason my daughter and I ventured to Orvieto was to see the world below this quaint town.

 From the train station a funicular carries you up to the center of town.  While the train station was bombed during the second world war, much of the town was spared because of its distance from the train station.

 

Also spared was the the labyrinth of caves and the cisterns that were created by genius Etruscans some 3000 years ago, long before the term engineer was coined.  Orvieto's underground world is literally riddled with tunnels and caves dug into the soft volcanic rock below the town.  In looking at a town plan one sees that each house has its own cave.

Somehow my daughter talked me into exploring this underground world, despite that fact that I am claustrophobic, and I am afraid of poorly lit stairs since my fall in which I shattered my left ankle.  Luckily for her, sometimes my sense of adventure outweighs my fear and anxiety.  As we descended down stairs, which became less and less like stairs as we know them the deeper into the caves we went, role reversal took over with my daughter holding my hand talking me through my chest pains and the sense that my world was closing in.  After slow deep breathing down the "stairs" I was actually okay when I saw the vastness of the underground world.

If one did not do research one would not know about the hidden world below this quaint town - caves that were used to process olive oil in, cisterns that provided water to the town at one time and caves that were used as protective bomb shelters.  In many of the caves the walls were covered with dozens of small square niches.  As we are in Italy it seemed reasonable for me to conclude that these niches at one time held wine or olive oil bottles....WRONG.  Instead they acted as cozy houses for pigeons, which were a staple in the Etruscan diet many years ago.  The pigeons over the years got wise to that although these caves protected them from the hot sun and the rain, they were actually death chambers for them.  It seems the word has gotten out because although there are still openings for the pigeons to come and go, pigeons have not made their home in the caves for many years.

While I enjoyed our adventure into the roots of Orvieto, I was glad to emerge from the caves to the comparatively modern town where we enjoyed the sunset, a tasty plate of pasta and a glass of wine to calm my nerves.  It was an adventure well worth a few chest pains. 

Read more

The Everlasting Magic of Florence......Enjoying an Anniversary Moment

As I run down from the hills above Florence in the early morning, I am always struck by how the sun what I can only describe as dances off the rooftops and faces of the architecturally magnificent buildings.  While I have run down from the hills thousands of times now, each and every time as I run back to what is now my home something just twinges in me as I look across the river.  This twinge rooted in gratitude for living in such a beautiful city.

A few weeks ago, as I ran back into Florence, I was left wondering what it would look and feel like if I got up very early, before the tourists took over the streets, and went to see these buildings while everyone was still tucked in their beds.  Buildings that those of us that live here avoid during the tourist season, because the hoards of people make it so unpleasant trying to dodge our way around them.  Instead, we take the lesser known side streets, and while they have their own charm, it can result in us going for weeks and even months without seeing what 10s of thousands of people come to Florence for, even if they can only steal a quick glance while their walking tour passes by.  I know people that live here that during July and August do everything they can to avoid the historical center as if it has the plague - for them it does of sorts.  But what if I did not avoid the center, and it were just me before these majestic buildings, and the warm early morning sun.

So, one morning I set my alarm and got up while much of the city was still asleep.  Without so much as a peep of sound on the streets, I laced up my shoes and went for my run.  As I ran across the city I was able to take routes that normally I cannot take because of the crowds.  Without fear of being cut off by a person with a raised umbrella guiding tourists like the pied-piper, I weaved my way through the streets until I was brought to a stand still, not by a person stopping to take a picture, but instead by the sheer awe of what was before me.

As I approached the Palazzo Vecchio, and rounded the corner to the Uffizi, I was reminded of the moment almost three years ago when I first arrived in Florence, turned this very corner, and tears came to my eyes because I was so overtaken by the emotion of that magical moment.  Three years later I was overtaken again by the magic of this city.  A sense of magic that I cannot put into words, but instead feel in my soul.

  

I don't know when I will turn that corner again, and without having to share it with anyone, have that moment of just standing with the sun beating down on this city that I love so much.  Certainly it will be after the tourist season is over.  I am thinking, once a year I should wake up early and make my way through the streets soaking in the magic of this city on my own, as it felt so good to selfishly for just a few moments have Florence all to myself.  I am glad that I experienced this anniversary moment of sorts.  It was worth pushing myself out the door in the early morning hours.  For me, as anniversaries are intended, it was a time taken to celebrate love - in this case my love of Florence.

    

Read more

Embracing the Italian Coffee Culture

For years I was addicted to Diet Coke.  While others woke up to their morning cup of coffee, I indulged in a few sips of Diet Coke, because I hate the taste of coffee.  I just could not understand why anyone would indulge in such an awful tasting substance.  But, I must admit I needed my caffeine fix by 11 am or my body started to scream for it.  I never guzzled Diet Coke.  Instead, I would just sip a bottle throughout the day when my energy level would start to drag.  Somehow over the years this nasty habit increased to two small bottles of Diet Coke a day.  That is until this past February when for some reason I decided to look up the effects of aspartine.  

When I Googled (decades ago no one would have predicted that to Google would become a verb) aspartine the first article that came up was headlined, "Aspartine is, by Far, the Most Dangerous Substance on the Market that is Added to Foods".  I then went on to read an article that outlined 92, yes 92, different health side effects associated with aspartine.  30 minutes of Googling was enough to convince me to never drink Diet Coke again.  

After three days of excruciating headaches detoxing from the aspartine, I realized I had a problem.  What was I going to do when my body started to drag in the day?  Suddenly I began to see the benefit of the Italian coffee culture.  There are a few things that Italians embrace with such passion that really it is part of their being; these things being their love of wine, delicious food and coffee.  (Okay Italian men would include beautiful women on their list) Until I gave up Diet Coke I never really understood the ritual of Italians stepping up to a coffee bar, ordering an espresso, it coming in really what is the equivalent of a shot glass with a handle, shooting back the espresso with the same power that one shoots back a shot of tequila, and then quickly going on their way to continue their day.  This ritual taking all of about 2 minutes, at the most.  For Italians there is no relaxing and reading the newspaper as you sip a large cup of steaming coffee.  There is no lingering to enjoy the taste and the smell of the coffee.  Instead, it is literally slam that stuff back and carry on.  I have Italian friends who will do this ritual up to 6 times a day.  

Now that I do not drink Diet Coke I frequently find myself doing as the Italians do and quickly popping into a coffee bar for a quick fix of caffeine.  The process taking such little time that really I don't have to taste what I am drinking.  I get all the benefits of the caffeine without subjecting myself to the gross taste of coffee.  I learned the hard way never to do this on an empty stomach as the caffeine is so strong that I had the shakes, felt impaired and then crashed 2 hours later having to lay down.  Clearly a rookie mistake.  Now I have the fine art of shooting back a shot of espresso down pat, although I also learned the hard way that if I do so after 2 pm I am up all night.  I do not know how Italians can do up to 6 shots a day.  Even after a late night meal they will order their cafe.  It leaves me wondering if their bodies are wired different in the way that they process their cultural treasure, coffee.  

Giving up aspartine has resulted in me embracing another part of Italian culture.  No I am not going to Google the side effects of caffeine.  I am sure there are plenty.  Instead, I am just going to let myself embrace this part of Italian culture 3 or 4 times a week.  I recognize that there is a limit to how healthy I can be, and surely enjoying this vice 3 or 4 times a week is better than 2 bottles of Diet Coke a day.  

I have come to learn in studying the art of cafe drinking that Italians often counteract the effects of a late night cafe by having what they call an "anti-cafe".  This being a shot of limoncello or grappa.  That part of the Italian culture I will never embrace.  I know my limit when it comes to vices.  I don't understand why one would consume caffeine to then drown the effects with alcohol.  This leads to another aspect of Italian culture that I have come to learn about - sometimes Italians do things that make absolutely no sense, but there is no point in questioning it as you will not get an answer that makes sense.  Sometimes it simply it what it is.     

   

Read more

When the Bells Toll

Every morning I wake up to the sound of bells tolling.  Whether they are ringing in the Palazzo Vecchio, or from a church across the river, the sound always manages to travel across the city to my ears.  The sound of the bells tolling makes me feel safe.  They remind me of where I am, and how fortunate I am to be living in Florence.  They remind me of the life that I have here; free of worry of what chaos I will be faced with in the day, free of toxic misplaced anger and free to live life rather than fearing life.

The bells tolling also tuck me in each night.  The comforting sound feeling like a cozy blanket enwrapping me, making me feel that it is safe to sleep peacefully. 

While the bells tolling mark the hour of the day, for me they also mark freedom, peace, happiness and safety.       

Read more