The Wandering Two…

“Traveling…leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.”

– Ibn Battuta

Desperate to return our Lancia before the 3-day Easter shutdown, we race to the tiny car rental outpost at the Bolzano Airport and discover it shuttered. Perplexed once again by the predictably unpredictable, we conjure Plan B. Suddenly, the agent dashes from the adjoining café, greets us, and tells us to leave our car “anywhere” in the parking lot. Casually, he signs off on the rental papers and re-joins his friends for pre-Easter cheer – no concern for checking for car damage or fuel consumption. He smiles and extends a relaxed, Grazie, Buon Viaggio!!

Thus marks the South Pole of our transition north across the Italian- Austrian frontier.

A few days later, we board the db Bahn express bound for Salzburg.  Snoozing and sipping canned Illy cappuccino, we snake through snowy mountain passes and green wooded expanses, arriving at the impressive new terminal in Salzburg.

Now the vivid contrast of cultures is drawn in high relief. An efficient Hertz office across from the heavily-policed train station brightens with a cheery “Gruss Gott” from Kirsten, the blond attendant.  After endless formalities of the Austrian rental are explained, we are presented a list of existing “damage” of the car we are picking up (a sporty Volvo D40 diesel).

Outside, we examine our gleaming, spotless “ride”. Kirsten points out the recorded areas of distress – microscopic blemishes, almost impossible to detect. Daunted, we drive away anxious that we will add to the unforgiving catelog of wear and tear.

Suppression dissolves as we roll across the invisible threshold opening our next adventure, Salzburg.

Bloburger Hof, at the periphery of Salzburg, is our address for five high-spring days. Our hosts – fam. Keuschnigg-Santner – run a prosperous inn set against Bavarian peaks dividing Austria from Germany.

In this picture-book neighborhood, we are steps from dinner at three satisfying Gasthofs serving rustic Austrian fare (chicken crusted with almonds, mixed salad with potatoes and dilled cucumber, seeded breads, Stegl pils, and fruity Gruner Veltliner from nearby vines).

Each morning we bike on trails that separate villages, manicured farms, forests, snow-fed streams, and enchanting homes and rural businesses. Freshly fertilized fields have intoxicating charm – albeit an acquired taste.

One discovery, a former noble hunting lodge in a misty private park, has been converted to professional offices. Enchanted by the merger of centuries, we vow to set up temporary shop here – “someday”. Returning off-trail, Lisa bravely, perhaps recklessly, guides us through electric fences (current evidently off) that corral pastured horses intrigued by our trespass.

Excursions into Salzburg (10 min. drive) or tours of breathtaking alpine summits and forests occupy our afternoons. Hallstatt, an hour’s drive, is a perfect “sound of music” setting that always refreshes our souls (apparently this prestine lakeside village has been perfectly recreated in China). Berchtesgaden National Park (yes, that Berchtesgaden) just over the unmarked German border is instant access to ski runs, perfectly cut and piled wood, leather trachten-wear. We see Spring-break skiers coming off the slopes in 78-degree sunshine ready for beer and wurst.

In Salzburg we luxuriate over latte and Topfenstrudel at Café Bazar, a classic Austrian coffee house, where citizens linger with the daily papers. Jokingly, we calculate that after lodging, coffee is our biggest travel expense.

Walking across the Salzach River to an early evening recital, we sit within feet of a 12-piece chamber ensemble, in the residence of Mozart’s first patron. International musicians gather to refine their art in this exalted setting.  We focus individual sounds each instrument create, as well as the total exquisite baroque harmonies – vivid, exhilarating, memorable.

All photos taken on iPhone6s+

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“Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life.”

-Anna Akhmatova

The Oriental Bar at the Metropole Hotel in Venice offers shelter from the chilly wind off the Adriatic. Entering, we are in a Bogart movie – we settle into rich burgundy mohair banquettes and sip caffe lattes (molto caldi –very hot), protected from the hundred-tongued mob just outside the window.

But we are getting ahead of our chronicle. Travel from Tuscany over the central Italian mountains and verdant Modena plain is less traumatic this year – perhaps it’s the new autostrada variante, softening torturous tunnels and curves; perhaps it’s the zippiness of our Lancia Ypsilon; or maybe, we’re just well-braced for the Herculean effort.

We stay at Villa Beatrice in the garden hills above Verona.  Each morning arising to cheerful Buongiorno, and home-prepared breakfast (rice cake or strawberry tart, creamy yogurt, energy -blended juices) prepared by our host, Simone Colliselli. We discuss the affairs of the day and gain insight into the charming, often puzzling logic that is Italy (let’s just say that technology follows the beat of a different drummer here).

Our days are in tune with Spring… leisurely morning passeggiatas (walks) through hillside roads with rent-a-dog, Shanti. We drive down to central Verona for a lunch of marvelous salads at Caffe Mazzanti on the Piazza delle Erbe. We deem this Italy’s fairest square. The pavements of Verona are large, smooth stones offering effortless glide around this gem of the north. Let’s keep the secret of Verona’s lovely, elegant character between us and, um …Shakespeare.

A day trip to Venice, as mentioned, is hard to decline. Seeing wondrous Piazza San Marco, we imagine ancient travelers beholding the scope and splendor of this dream in stone, open to the navigable East. We are no less humbled every time we return.

Venice can be viewed as a museum populated by real people, working the fisheries, the crafts, the accommodations. We lunch on hearty vegetable soup and warm octopus with potatoes and cherry tomatoes among hungry gondoliers and DHL delivery guys at Trattoria Alla Ferrata.

Further north is Bolzano/Bozen in the Sud Tyrol (Italian Dolomites). Some describe the community as half-Italian/half-German, so it feels like a Swiss canton – proper and orderly, yet active in spirit and so livable. Bike paths, green spaces, and distinguished, old-world buildings set amidst snowy peaks and castles with terraced vineyards.

We are guests at the immaculate Hotel Hanny, family run and nestled in the vineyards just at the edge of town. After a hearty German fruhstuck (breakfast) we walk or bike into the town center along lovely parks that run next to an alpine river. We seem to be the only Americans in sight.

Easter morning, 44F degrees, we bike hurriedly on cobblestone streets to the sound of countless bells calling the faithful to worship. Arriving at Bolzano Cathedral just in time, we are unknowingly among a procession of priests entering amid great excitement. We came for the sacred music (thunderous organ, choir, and orchestra) and stayed for the incense! Huddled in the stone cold sanctuary we marvel at glorious pageantry and solemn community.

Dinners of fresh grilled fish and asparagus specialties, hiking through hillside fields, picnics of artisanal cheeses and medieval bread on the village green, and naps in the warming spring sun are typical activities before we settle down for an afternoon coffee on courtly Walther Square.

All images captured on iPhone6S+

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“Rome was a poem pressed into service as a city.”

                                                               –Anatole Broyard

“My idea of heaven still is to drive the gravel farm roads of… Tuscany, very pleasantly lost.”

                                                               –Francis Mayes

We arrive in Rome, once again to practice being Italian.

With affection, we refer to our cozy marble-faced apartment within the Vatican’s countenance as The Mussolini Arms.

We cover the Eternal City by foot, proclaiming our daily schedule and itinerary: “as and when!” No rush; no compulsive need to cover required attractions – this visit we are “just here” in Italy. Comfortable and quietly exhilarating.

Glorious weather favors our indulgence of familiar pleasures: Caffé Canova – caffé e latte and eye candy on Piazza del Popolo; Ristorante Vecchia Roma bordering the Ghetto – lunch of antipasti and spaghetti carbonara, operatic concert at the Sant’Agnese in Agone Church –  a glorious recital of classic arias; half-marathon walks along the graceful curves of the Tevere River, bisecting the Holy from profane.

An Italian SIM card transforms our iPhone into a localized appliance capable of Googling every whim and vocalizing directions with near flawless precision. Our torment navigating foreign terrain is finally over! One comical exception – “she” pronounces Bologna “baloney”.

After 4 immersive days of surveying Roman culture, relaxed and in tune with the latitude, we transition via Hertz to the embrace of Agriturismo Savernano in Toscana. We are the first visitors of the season. “We open for you!” says Cosimo, the charming teenage son of Davide and Eva. We are welcomed by the family with a roaring fireplace and kisses on both cheeks.

This wonderful farmhouse, amid vineyards and orchards, is our base for 5 days. Each day we set out for excursions to Florence, Siena, to hilltop Preggio on the Umbrian border, and on a sleepy Sunday, to nearby Castelfranco where we thrill to a regional pro-cycling race. Evenings we return to the warmth of Savernano and relax with Davide’s Chianti and Eva’s home cooking.

Preggio, which we visited on our first day in the countryside, holds a special place in our memory. It is remote, wildly rural, an almost perfectly preserved hill town. Bruno and Elena live at the base of this Medieval setting among 2000 hectares of vineyards and produce “biologic” (organic) wine, olive oil, and honey.

We are treated to an eight course, four-hour lunch of hand-made delicacies- many of the vegetables and herbs gathered wild from their fields. Their hospitality and field-to-fork offerings are what draws us from Town to Country.

All images captured on iPhone 6S+

Click on any photo to ride the carousel.