Venice and Tuscany Report from Italy

October Sojourn in Venice and Tuscany

The Road to Heaven

When Italians tell you "la strada finisee," they mean go to the T intersection. When they say "girare a sinistra," you can confidently take a left. But when they tell you to take the first right after the church, don't. Take the second one. The first right is a tiny dirt and gravel lane leading to a terrifyingly narrow railing-less bridge over a canal. Your common sense will prevent you from trying to cross it, which means you must execute a hair-raising U-turn instead.

You are searching for Villa La Salvatica, the agritourist farm where you hope to spend the week. Getting this far assumes that after you got off Italian Autostrada 4 at the Padova Est exit, you saw the signs to Treviso, and that if you didn't, you made a U turn.

Once you do find the lane called Via La Salvatica, you will discover that the house numbers jump at random and that the pavement runs out. Do not panic. You will see another canal , which soon becomes a moat, and finally the Villa will appear behind ornate gates, tall, golden yellow, and inviting.

How do you describe Heaven? Well, it's very informal. Francesca, otherwise a student of of medieval architecture and restoration at the university of Padua, appears without a halo and speaks quite excellent English. Her parents, small and delicate, also greet you warmly , in Italian. You drive your car through the arched portico right to your own door, a green wooden one, and Francesca gives you the key. She asks only for your passport, not for your baptismal certificate, and that is how, with enormous relief, you can enter heaven even if you don't quite believe in it.

Attentive angels devised the apartment. Everything is there for your comfort. It has been a cold foggy day. The apartment is warm and cozy. You make yourself an espresso in one of the 3 sizes of espresso pots, or perhaps you pour yourself a glass of wine. Maybe you even congratulate yourself on your discovery.

Agritourism


My husband and I first heard of Villa La Salvatica, a working farm of some 60 hectares, through Agriturist Ufficio Regionale in Florence. In an unlikely building, up 4 or 5 flights of dark narrow stairs, we entered their dimly lit office and met a young woman who introduced herself as Beatrice. She laughed when we compared her to Dante's companion. But, indeed, around a coffee table strewn with well-worn Italian magazines, she guided us into the world of Agritourism.

We selected two farms from her simple brochure, using the rough regional maps, one-paragraph descriptions in English, and the single color photo provided for each. We chose Villa La Salvatica for its proximity to Padua and Venice, with train connections to both. We were attracted to the second farm, "Poggio Primo," for its promise of Tuscan vineyards and olive groves. Beatrice made our reservations, and we put down our liras for a week's stay on each farm. We had the advantage of October's low prices, making both farms an astonishing bargain, compared with hotels.

To take advantage of Agritourist facilities you must have a car and, of course, be prepared to drive in Italy. We were already somewhat familiar with Italian drivers, who are not as wild as legend would have it, but who are nonetheless a challenge to Americans. We had learned to survive the autostrada speeders, the "straddlers" on the charming secondary roads who drive straight at you with a wheel on each side of the middle line, and the "squeeze three" drivers who pass at the last minute, usually in a no passing zone.

We recommend that you develop some ground rules if you are going to drive with friends or family in Italy:

  1. By mutual agreement, all passengers are obliged to suppress squeals, squeaks, and even gasps at driving conditions.
  2. Always stop for lunch to recoup.
  3. Do not start out on the scenic backroads with insufficient macho.
  4. When you decide to drive 300 kilometers over backroads, do not add on a museum visit to, say, 600 Etruscan funeral urns.
  5. Realize that driver, hoping to avoid a head-on collision, may hug the shoulder.
    This will cause the passenger to cringe at the sight of mangled guard rails, the snapped-off shoulder markers, the leafy branches that come in the window, and the occasional sight of a completely crushed and abandoned car on the shoulder. Refer the passenger to rule number 1.
The best attitude to cultivate is perhaps the one suggested by my husband: "equanimity in the face of imminent death." This leads to an odd feeling of exhilaration, especially when one arrives at one's destination without mishap. Perhaps it explains Italian driving habits: a "jogger's high" without having to run.

Villa La Salvatica has four apartments, more spacious and gracious than any city hotel room. Ours, one of the two smaller apartments, featured a super modern kitchenette with a surprisingly bright yellow toaster, separate bedroom with a big wardrobe and huge firm bed, a large sitting room with television and additional sofa bed, and even a modern bathroom complete with shower, bidet, and heated towel racks. Just outside was the estate's garden of giant old trees and sweeping lawns.

In October, a large bowl of fresh fruits from the farm graced the dining room table. Beside it was a basket of brochures explaining all the nearby attractions in the Venito province.

For those who want their heavenly havens down-to-earth and practical, agritourist facilities may well be the right answer. Not only are they less expensive than most moderate hotel rooms in the major cities, but they offer a place to cook some of your own meals and to park your car without charges, hassle, or fear of a break-in. You have a home and a base for day excursions. From Villa La Selvatica,we visited Padua, Venice,the Riviera on the banks of the Brenta River, and walled towns in the Venito province. We looked forward to the ease of taking the train, especially to Venice where the parking lots are expensive and often full.

Purgatory in Padua

The trains from Dolo can also whisk you to Padua to see Giotto's famous frescoes in the the Capella degli Scrovegni, a short walk from the station. As some art historians would have it, the frescoes in this chapel launched the Renaissance, at least in painting.

The chapel used to hand out a schema explaining the sequence and subject matter of the frescoes. Now you are on your own. Be prepared to recall your art history, your Bible stories, and traditional legends about the Virgin Mary, or bring a good guide book. Or, just enjoy the intense colors, forms, and expressive faces and gestures.

If you still bubble with energy after seeing the chapel and decide to see the Museo Civico, also included on your ticket, be aware that it is set up as a maze: You can not get to the exit unless you walk past every vase, coin, statue, and painting. Your eyes and feet may conspire in calling for rest and refueling with a cappuccino in a nearby cafe.

It may be OK to venture out of heaven on Sunday, but it is unwise to go by train to Padua on a Sunday afternoon without accurate information about the schedule of returning trains. There aren't many, and one ends up stranded in Purgatory.

For us, Purgatory in Padua began with 3 hours of taking refuge from the October cold in the only restaurant open on Sunday, a McDonalds, eating too many Chicken McNuggets. This was followed by freezing on the station platform waiting for the last train at 8:30pm.

When police in riot gear appeared on our platform, we were absolutely certain we had been cast out of Paradise. My husband's instincts for avoiding being caught in the midst of a "police action" surfaced, and we quickly positioned ourselves at the far end of the platform. Other passengers left on their trains and we were alone in the cold, except for the riot police.

Suddely, a small grungy man approached us, gesturing emphatically and talking urgently in Italian. He almost dragged us behind a pillar, where we huddled together a little anxiously. Even the man seemed to position himself carefully, eyeing the train behind us. As it pulled out, we realized he was a railway employee and saw that he was saving us from a pelting by the bottles and other flying objects thrown by rowdy soccer fans. When it had passed, we thanked him effusively. Our guardian angel grinned, waved, and hopped nimbly over the tracks to the next platform as our own train finally pulled in.

Riviera de la Brenta

If you prefer your adventures by car, a drive to Riviera de la Brenta, the countryside surounding the River Brenta, is an excellent day trip.

There are dozens of old villas, built as summer homes by wealthy Venetians, on each bank of the Brenta River, which leads to Venice. One of the grandest estates open to the public is Villa Pisano. It is actually 2 enormous palaces on either end of a reflecting pond, both in various phases of reconstruction. Napoleon stayed here in his day, and Hitler in his. Napoleon's bedroom and bath are preserved. Hitler's is not.

Simply driving the picturesque route and stopping for an excellent seafood lunch makes a pleasant, easy outing. We found Ristorante di Giorgio, where the blue and golden yellow stained glass panels in the walls and the yellow damask tablecloths made it seem sunny and warm inside despite the cold blustery day. You can indulge in a seafood soup served with an amazing variety of bread sticks and rolls, a heavenly seafood risotto, some pasta with shrimp, an enormous platter of sauted and steamed sea creatures, and of course a local white wine.

With a good map of the Venito area and a patient navigator, you can also visit the small walled towns in the vicinity, such at Cittadella and Castelfranco. Verona is also only a short drive or train trip away.

Venice

For most of visitors, Venice is the piece de resistance, whether in the heat of summer or the penetrating chill of October. From Villa La Salvatica, it's a short drive to the train station and a 25 minute ride into the city.

Luck was with us. Just as we stepped out of the Santa Lucia railway station for our first view of the canal, the sun broke through the rain clouds. The Grand Canal turned a surprizing milky deep turquoise. By chance, we chose Vaporetto number 1, the slowest because it makes every stop along the canal all the way to Piazza San Marco. We sat in front, a fresh wind in our faces, relishing every detail.

My husband later commented that this is such an "improbable" city. I imagine him in a similar state of awe at the Pearly Gates. These cities that seem to float violate the known laws of physics.

In Venice, a city of earthly delights, there are a thousand things to do. The torment is that in three days one can not do even half of them. Of course, your traveling companion influences not only what you see but how you see it. I dragged mine up the two flights of steep stone steps to the top of the Basilica to see the original bronze horses in the museum. He liked the view of Piazza San Marco from the adjoining balcony better. Watching the pigeons on the pavement below, he was intrigued by the dynamics of pattern formation, not something that would ever have crossed my mind without him.

When we wandered the back alleys, I was surprised by lacy women's panties hung out so publicly to dry. My husband, admiring how the clothes lines were cleverly rigged on pulleys for easy access out the window, saw them as an agreeable decoration. .

The best thing to do in Venice is to wander. With a good map one can dare to navigate the maze of narrow alleys and walkways along tiny canals glossy with the reflected colors of buildings and gondolas, contemplating how a city changes when it replaces a solid with a liquid, replaces streets with canals.

An excellent indoor tour is the so-called "Secret Itinerary" of the Doge's Palace, going behind the scenes to see where the civil servants worked, where prisoners were tortured, and where Casanova was imprisoned and escaped, later to become a librarian in a Bohemian castle not far from Prague. You will probably want to visit the public rooms as well, and cross the Bridge of Sighs. Then, with a sigh, it will be time to rest your feet with another cappuccino.

As the lunch hour approaches, one's wandering becomes more focused. Searching for a worthy restaurant, tourists carry their hunger like a monstrance before them, praying that the bestowal of so many euros will result in a divine meal, or at least a wonderful culinary experience. Some like to be adventuresome and order cuttlefish cooked in its own ink. Others long for a simple pasta with meat sauce. With amazement, Americans note the trim, fit Italian businessmen and couples around them, tucking into hearty four or five course meals. It is not the secret of European facial creams we covet, but the ability to feast like this and stay slim.

A morning visit of the outdoor stalls in the Rialto allows you to ogle the gorgeous fresh vegetables and the fresh seafood, an amazing assortment of mysterious creatures on beds of ice. Then, at noon duck into a nearby "osteria," where workmen still in their aprons, straight from closing up their stalls, are standing at the bar eating various sea food creations and knocking back a glass or two of grappa before heading home. The mood is boisterous and friendly. Then in minutes, they are gone and it is quiet again.

When weather, whim, or simply time, tell you to move on, Tuscany is a good destination in early October. Without the Alps' influence that chills Venice, the temperatures in Tuscany are warmer and the days are tranquil.

Poggio Primo: Olives and Wine in Tuscany

Poggio Primo, an agritourist farm near Arezo, has apartments at half the price of Villa La Salvatica for a single large room that includes a kitchenette and a walk-in sized fireplace. Just north of Arezzo in Castiglioni Fibbocchi, it is the perfect base for driving to Chianti country sights and visiting the famous, restored Piero della Francesca frescoes in Arezo. Extended day trips to Siena and Florence are also possible.

From the moment you carry your morning coffee outside into the warm Tuscan sun and sit at one of the picnic tables, you will be tempted not to leave the farm at all, however. In front of you will be groves of silver green olive trees, then rows of grape vines laden and ready to be picked, and in the distance misty blue hills and a pure blue sky. The view is straight out of a Renaissance painting. Plan for a few days of barely budging.

You can construct your own Tuscan idyl. Bring a detailed map of Tuscany. If you don't speak Italian, bring along a pocket dictionary and a phrase book. Over your coffee you can look up whatever vocabulary you might need to get groceries or supplies in town.

At mid day you can seek out a trattoria nearby, though in October many are closed for vacation. We tried out Italian recipes ourselves with pasta and excellent veal from the local butcher. The advantage of cooking for yourself is that you don't need an abstemious designated driver if you indulge in the local Chiantis and in Vin Santo, the dessert wine into which one dips almond "cantucci." You can also have your siesta, laze in the sun, and swim in Pioggio Primos's large azure pool just steps from your door. The October sun in Tuscany is just warm enough to really enjoy lying in it.

If you happen to wake up at 3am, go outside in your slippers and bathrobe to look at the stars, which are huge and brilliant, and so much more numerous away from city lights. At dawn, hike up the uncultivated hill behind the house. At the end of the day, take some photographs in the gold and blue twilight. While all about you are working or driving madly about seeing the sights, do what no one else doing: relax and enjoy the spectacular view.

When you find Paradise on earth, savor it. There will be time enough to re-enter the world.

References


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