A Day in Zurich

Last Monday my father, Dom and I spent the day exploring a little of Zurich. On my brother’s recommendation, we started out by taking the train to a viewpoint a short way out of town. Uetliberg is considered the city’s “home” mountain which seems a somewhat arbitrary designation given the fact the city is surrounded by mountains. We quickly passed from the central train station, through the outskirts of town and into the countryside. There were all different types of architecture, from very modern to quite tradition, the latter often VERY Swiss. After about 20-25 minutes we came to Uetliberg, the last stop on the route. From there we walked about a kilometer up to the top of the hill where we found a large communications tower, a snack bar and a hotel and restaurant. The view back towards the city and the Zurichsee was wonderful. Unfortunately, it was quite a hazy day with high overcast so the mountains were barely visible. On a clear day it has to be a spectacular spot.

The path up the hill is part of the extensive walking tail system that extends throughout Switzerland. Signposts at every intersection gave the distance to various amenities such as train stations, restaurants and restrooms. Having skied in Switzerland I was familiar with the fact that seemingly every wide spot on the hill has a small restaurant or a lift going up another hill and I had heard the walking trail system was much the same. My brother told us a story of friends from Zurich who went to British Columbia and did some hiking. They tromped over several ridges and were shocked and amazed to never find a road, restaurant or restroom. I would have been happy to walk the 6 kilometers along the ridge and down to the lake to the next train station but Dom and my dad outvoted me and we backtracked to the Uetliberg train station.

Because we had day passes and a map of the public transportation system we decided to get off part way and take another route back to the center of Zurich. So a couple of stops later we hopped off and looked around for the tram we wanted. All we saw was the train station. Another look at the map showed us we needed to walk several blocks which we proceeded to do. Once there we checked the posted schedule and discovered the route we planned to take was a commuter line and did not run midday. Hmmm. Another look at the transport map and we figured out another way to reach our destination. It was a bit of a puzzle but we really enjoyed using the superb train, tram and bus system.

Once back in downtown Zurich we found a spot for a traditional Swiss lunch. My father said the restaurant was similar to German beer halls. A room the size of a high school gymnasium, and decorated a bit like a Medieval hall, was full of tables. Seating was somewhat communal although we ended up at a table for four. We all opted for wurst (sausage) and rosti (hash brown potatoes), accompanied by onion sauce and beer of course. It was delicious.

Afterwards we wanted to see the Chagall stained glass windows at a nearby church. Unfortunately, the Fraumunster was closed that afternoon. Instead, we walked down to the lakefront where we saw tourists feeding the swans, gulls and pigeons. It was beginning to threaten rain in earnest so not a lot of people were around. Dom and my dad decided to head back to the hotel for a rest but I chose to walk back.

I headed up Bahnhofstrasse, one of the world’s great ritzy shopping avenues. There were the usual high fashion stores (i.e. Prada, Gucci, etc.) and, like in Italy, the window displays include (shocking) prices for each item. The night before, on our way to dinner, we had passed by a Bogner skiwear shop. I went back there and took a closer look in the windows. There was a gorgeous jacket with a fur trimmed hood that I could see myself wearing. Unfortunately, I could not see myself paying over $3,500 for the privilege. I also visited another sporting goods store and found some more reasonable skiwear—the Descente jacket I liked was only $800—but not reasonable enough.

I did stop at the Sprungli store—an awesome pastry, chocolate and sandwich shop—where I bought two boxes of pastries and tea cookies. Afterwards, I continued on strolling through part of the old town, admiring the architecture, decorative painting, window boxes and men playing chess in a city park. Back at the hotel room, while Dom napped I quiet decadently read my book and ate “bonbons.” It is a darn good thing that pastry shop is in another country because the contents of those boxes were incredibly delicious.

Later that evening we met up with my brother and had dinner in the older part of Zurich. The restaurant served traditional Swiss fondue and raclette but I opted for venison and spatzli. My dad was the only one of us who had raclette, a meal that involves melting cheese at the table in a special electric oven/grill. The cheese is then eaten with potatoes, little sausages, gherkins, pickled onions and other accompaniments. Dom had about had his fill of restaurant food and ordered only soup and salad. We drank a nice bottle of Swiss Pinot Noir. The country makes some very good wines, both red and white, but almost none is exported.

When we finished dinner the rain was falling in earnest but luckily my brother had two umbrellas. He escorted us to our tram stop, tried to give us one umbrella but we were able to crowd together in a shop doorway until the tram arrived. By the time we got off, perhaps five minutes later, the rain stopped and we were still dry when we reached our hotel.

The next morning we had breakfast with my dad after which we dropped him at the train station as we made our way out of town. We asked Bridget (our GPS unit) to take us home and she did a good job of it. Interestingly, she took us a slightly different route than when we came north. It rained off and on throughout the six and a half hour journey and we arrived back in Partigliano early in the evening.

We really enjoyed our brief excursion and it was fun spending time with my father and my brother. I have always liked Switzerland. As I told Dom while we were there, it appeals to me because it is so “Swiss”—very neat, tidy, and precise. However, I also find that a bit unnerving as, to an American and pseudo-Italian, it seems somewhat unnatural. Still, I would go back in a minute especially if the trip involved skiing.

Here in Partigliano the weather has improved. Yesterday we spent some time out in the fields bringing in firewood and moving the rest of the olive tree clippings to the burn pile. Later in the afternoon we drove to Lucca with the intent of walking through town. Unfortunately, the annual comic art festival was in full swing and there was a real traffic jam outside the walls. In the end, we simply drove around town and came back home.

Today we had what I think of as one of our typical Sundays. We rose early and went to a marcia podistica (walker’s march) at the town of Fosciandora. This locale is further up the Serchio Valley, further into the mountains and the walk was quite “vertical.” All of the routes were shorter than normal (1 km. vs. 2 or 3 kms, 5 kms. vs. 6 kms., etc.) but nonetheless a good workout. The views back down the valley were also spectacular. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera so no proof of that here.

On our way home we stopped at Bini Bar for cappucini and pastry. I attended 11 am Mass at the local church and then came home and fixed lunch. Usually we have an egg frittata but today I made fried eggs accompanied by ham and cheese patties and toast. Our afternoon was rather lazy. Dom rearranged our wine “cellar” under the stairs while I hung some laundry, read on the patio and later, after it cooled off, napped and read upstairs. A friend stopped by about 5:30 for a quick visit and a glass of wine after which we watched the Brazilian Grand Prix, the last Formula 1 race of the season. It was a REALLY exciting finish with Felipe Massa, a Ferrari driver and my favorite, winning the race but losing the driver’s championship to Louis Hamilton only because the latter managed to pass another driver on the last curve of the last lap for a 5th place finish. Had Hamilton finished 6th he would have lost the championship. Boo hoo!

During the race I made dinner—stir fry pork and vegetables—and now we are whiling away the evening enjoying the fire, watching TV and writing blog posts. It has been a great day and we are looking forward to a great week.

From Vicenza to Zurich

Last Sunday, after spending the night in Vicenza, we headed to Zurich. With the “fall back” time change (a week earlier here than in the U.S.) it was easy to get an early start. Well, early for us, i.e. about 8:30 am.

Our GPS unit told us the drive would take approximately 5.5 hours. However, we know that Bridget, as we have christened the unit, is conservative in her estimates. We can usually better her time over a substantial distance. When we first used the GPS we did not care for the sound of the American voice that was the default setting. However, you can change the voice and we had good fun testing all the options one day. We decided we liked the female Irish accent the best. Possibly the voice option was labeled Bridget but in any case Bridget “she” has been every since. Having the GPS has made us a bit cavalier about traveling without maps. We actually headed to Zurich having only the address of our hotel, a very broad general map of Europe and Bridget.

It was a sparkling sunny day as we drove westward across the Veneto and Lombardia before heading north into Switzerland. Just outside of Vicenza the landscape was dominated by vineyards. We passed a sign for the town of Soave, also the name of a white grape varietal, and on our right the land rose gently towards the foothills of the Dolomite Mountains. It seemed like every square meter, that did not have a building or road, had vines planted on it. Obviously the market for Soave must be very good. Dom commented that very little sunlight actually hit the ground in that area as the vines grew on trellises actually connect each row of plants. The trellises are high enough so that one can walk beneath them. In midsummer it must make the vineyards cooler places to work.

The vines soon gave way to the more industrial towns of Brescia, Bergamo and Milan. Luckily, it was Sunday when most trucks are banned from the roads in Italy. Even around the latter city the traffic was never very heavy. Each Autostrada rest stop we passed was packed full of big rigs. We skirted Milan to the north and then headed for Como and the lake country. We were surprised to find that Switzerland dips quite far into Italy just north of Como and it was only about 15 minutes after we passed by it when we crossed the border.

The Swiss/Italian lakes are tucked right up against the Alps and the mountains quickly rose around us. The slopes were quite rocky as we headed towards the San Gottardo tunnel and the trees were sporting their autumn colors. The day continued sunny and warm and we were soon at the tunnel.

The San Gottardo tunnel is one of two major routes that cut directly through the Swiss mountains. The other route, the San Bernardo tunnel, heads more towards Eastern Switzerland and Austria. The tunnel we took is 17 kilometers long (about 10.5 miles). There are actually two side-by-side tunnels with two lanes in each direction. However, both times we have been through the tunnel one set has been closed. So, our journey was actually one lane in each direction in a single tunnel. As you approach the tunnel opening the mountains seem to rise straight overhead and you can see the surface route (now closed for the winter) zigzagging up to the sky.

Going through the tunnel also takes one from the Italian part of Switzerland to the German part. All the road signs changed and we went from the land of Uscita (exit in Italian) to the land of Ausfahrt (exit in German).

By this time we had been on the road for about four hours so we stopped at a rest stop for lunch. The biggest problem we had was figuring out the food. Neither Dom nor I speak German and the rest stop cafeteria had signs only in that language. After some comparison between the food available and the signs we figured out what we wanted. The people who waited on us were quite patient and we do know to say bitte and danke.

Back on the road we traveled deeper into the classic Swiss landscape. There were tidy Swiss chalets, well groomed fields with picturesque taupe colored cows and lovely valley and mountain vistas. To me it looks remarkably like it is illegal there to have an overgrown garden or a field with tall grass. Heaven forbid there should be litter any place particularly on the roadside. Actually, being a neat freak I quite like it except that it looks so unreal.

Our route took us past more alpine lakes and then, as we drew close to Zurich, through a narrow valley. A creek rippled through it and it was bordered by paved paths on both sides. Periodically there would be a railroad station and a restaurant. Being Sunday and no doubt because of the good weather, there were quite a few walkers and bikers using the paths. Obviously, the people of Zurich could take the train out of town and walk or bike back towards the city. In fact, my brother told me him and his wife often did just that. Except, they would take the train to where they had stopped walking the last time and keep going exploring new territory each time.

Bridget did an excellent job of getting us to Zurich. However, once inside the city she had a hard time keeping satellite contact and was often a block or two behind us. Still, after following quite a circuitous route, we found our hotel with little trouble. Our journey took us about what Bridget has predicted and we arrived between 3 and 3:30 pm.

We checked in and made contact with my father. Later we met up with my brother and the four of us had a great dinner at a wonderful Italian restaurant in downtown Zurich. My sister-in-law was in Dublin looking for a flat because my brother is being transferred there.

The next day we had the opportunity to do a bit of local exploration. More on that tomorrow.

Here is Partigliano it was another really dismal day. It rained so hard from early this morning to mid-afternoon that we have just hibernated all day. This has allowed me to catch up on laundry and email but we really need to get out tomorrow and DO something. We will see if the weather cooperates.

Happy Halloween!

Auto e Moto d'Epoca a Padova

We went to Zurich via Padua because the Auto e Moto d'Epoca was held there last weekend. It is a vintage automobile and motorcycle exhibition held at the Padova Fiera in 15 different buildings. The show included a large vintage car display, two buildings dedicated to the sale of historic cars by individuals and two buildings (the largest two!) of vintage parts sales. It was a really interesting expo and the excursion fit into our hobby of visiting automobile museums.

We took lots of pictures and a few are shown above. Dom was particularly interested in the vintage race cars and the rare models. I always like the unusual vehicles (e.g. mini motor homes or classic fire trucks) and the beautiful paint jobs and interior restorations. The parts sales was intriguing to me because who knew there were so many vendors selling old car parts. In addition to parts for sale, one could buy vintage posters, manuals, license plates, and vintage clothing (for vintage car rallies).

After five hours in which we explored almost every inch of the exhibition we left Padova and headed for Vicenza, about a half hour away. The town, one of the jewels of the Veneto, is not large but has a lovely historic center. We did not have a room reservation so we meandered around and through the town for about half an hour before finally reaching a likely looking hotel. Unfortunately they were full but they pointed us in the direction of several others. After stopping at several other hotels that were also complete (full) we finally found a room at the AC Hotel a kilometer or so outside the historic center. It turned out to be a lucky find as we had a beautiful room decorated in a very Euro chic style and it was only Euros 75! In the bathroom was a sink and counter made of a single piece of heavy glass. I think it is a particularly lovely style but discovered that it would have to be cleaned every day as every drop of water spotted the surface.

We took a brief rest before heading back into the historic center for dinner. The oldest part of the city has Venetian architectural influences, particularly around the windows, but many of the buildings had lovely iron balconies that are different from anything I have seen elsewhere in Italy. The town was also heavily impacted by the work of Palladio who redesigned the main piazza in Vicenza.

We wandered throughout the town for quite a while before finding a place to eat. There were many cafés but few restaurants. The first couple we stopped at were fully booked for the evening. Finally, we stopped in a spot on the main piazza. It was quite busy so the comings and goings of the patrons and staff helped make up for the mediocre food. Walking through town on our way back to our car we were surprised at the number of people on the streets. It was a Saturday evening but even still there were more people on the streets at 10 pm than we usually see out late at night in the Lucca area—at least this time of year. Interestingly, even the outdoor patio at the restaurant was full of people even though the night was not particularly warm.

The next morning we continued on our way to Zurich. More on that tomorrow.

Our weather continued to be stormy throughout last night and today. It blew so hard last night that three of our four plastic lawn chairs ended up in a tangle out on the grass in front of the patio. Lots of other items outside blew around as well. There has been so much rain in the last few days that the flower pots I keep near the bread oven were nearly full of water—about 4-5 inches. Luckily, the sun came out for a while at midday because a couple came by to view the house. Cozy as the house it on a rainy day it really sparkled in the bright light.

From Olives to Oil

We are back from Padova e Zurigo (Padua and Zurich, nell’inglese) and can report that we had a wonderful time. A full report on our excursion north is forthcoming. However, today we will backtrack and first tell all about our adventures last week at the frantoio (olive mill).

As was reported earlier, we finished our harvest last Thursday and took our olives to the frantoio for a 5 pm appointment. When we arrived we had a little difficulty getting into the parking/unloading area of the mill (top left photo). There were cars, truck and people everywhere. It was almost 20 minutes before we actually unloaded our olives into a cestino (bin). Each cestino can hold up to 500 kilos of olives (top right) Finally the frantoio fork lift set them on the scales (row two). We had estimated a weight of about 150 kilos but the frantoio’s official figure was 134 kilos. I guess that is the accuracy you can expect when you weigh your olives on a bathroom scale from IKEA.

We waited 10-15 minutes for our olives to be dumped into the hopper where the processing starts (row three left). While doing so the gentleman who came in behind us asked when his olives would be processed. The man who checked us in said, “Dopo la Signora (after the lady).” So, at that point “our” olives became “my” olives!

Once the olives are in the hopper they begin their journey through the machinery. First, the olives go up a conveyer belt where the leaves are blown off and the fruit washed (row three right). From there the olives go through a chute (row four left) where they are ground up (yes, pits and all) and the resulting mash is dumped into a mixing machine (row four right), sort of like giant beaters (row five left). The mash spends about an hour in the mixer were the movement makes large oil globules out of small oil globules.

The next step is for the mash to be spun in a centrifuge so that the solids (pits, etc.) are spun off leaving only the liquid. The resulting mixture is centrifuged again so that the water and oil are separated. The bright green olive oil then streams out a tube and into one’s containers (row five right). There is a tap that can be turned off and on so that one can use more than one container. We used four 5 liter plastic jugs and part of a 5 liter glass jug for a total of about 22-23 liters of oil. That was about 14%, by weight, of our original 134 kilos—a very respectable result.

As you know, if you read last Thursday’s post, after collecting our oil we went out for a celebratory dinner at La Fonte, one of our favorite restaurants.

Before we left for Zurich we managed to completely fill the three 5 liter plastic jugs we plan to bring back to the U.S. It was not until today that we finally put the rest of the oil, about 7 liters, into other containers. We now have a supply here for ourselves plus some to give to friends. Overall, we are really pleased with this year’s olive harvest and the resulting oil.

Rain started falling heavily last night and continued today. Fortunately, we had no plans to work outside (yeah!). I cleaned house and Dom puttered around alternately helping and keeping out of the way. In the afternoon we ran errands. It finally feels like Autumn might truly be here but we still hope to get some Italian Indian summer before we leave in four weeks.

Too much fun!

Contrary to yesterday’s promise, the story of olives to oil will have to wait until next week. Dom and I spent today in Lucca doing errands and having lunch. It was after 4:30 pm when we reached Marlia. Knowing our friends Mary and Orlando had an appointment for that time, we swung by the frantoio (mill) to see what their final tally was. Mary had called earlier in the day to see what percentage we got and told me she estimated their take at around 900 kilos (and that from only 34 trees!). They ended up bringing in 1004 kilos! Joy and Bob also showed up because Bob has been helping Mary and Orlando harvest and they had never been to the mill. We ended up standing around for the next two hours (with a break at a local bar for a drink) while their olives were processed and they collected their oil. Afterwards we all went for dinner in Ponte a Moriano. Loads of fun but as a result Dom and I did not get home until 10 pm. Early tomorrow morning we are leaving for a few days in Padova and Zurich, Switzerland. There is a classic car exposition and market in Padova and my father, on his way to South Africa, will be visiting my brother and his wife who live in Zurich. So, a little car time then a little family time. Next new post should be on Wednesday.

New Oil

Just a quick post to let you know the final olive tally: 134 kilos per Frantoio Matraia’s official scale. We spent this morning stripping the last four trees and because there were so few on each of them it only took us a couple of hours. The personnel at the frantoio had said to be there a half hour before our 5 pm appointment and it is a good thing we were. It took us most of that half hour to get into the parking lot and up to the loading dock. We finally tipped our bags of olives into the mill’s cestino (bin) at 10 minutes to 5. From then on it was watch and wait. Just like the Italians, we kept an eagle eye on our olives as they were processed from fruit to oil. At some point “our” olives became “my” olives. The gentleman who arrived just after us asked when his batch would be processed and the man who checked us in and weighed the loads said, “Dopo la signora (After the lady).” After almost two hours we left with nearly 23 liters of fresh, bright green olive oil—about 14% of the original weight. That is quite good considering an average return is 10-12%. In the picture you can see our oil streaming from the pipe into our plastic jugs. We took it back to the house and then went for a celebratory dinner at Ristorante La Fonte. A more detailed explanation of the olive to oil process (and more photos) will be in tomorrow’s post.

Hot, dry olives!

Brilliantly sunny today which made for warm work picking olives. Our daily total was 39 ½ kilos for an overall total of 135 ½ kilos. As we work through our uliveto (olive grove) the tally increases more slowly because the trees we are stripping now have less fruit. If we are lucky we might get another 20 kilos for the rest of the trees which we will pick tomorrow morning. Today’s picture shows us about halfway through one tree. You can see the net spread beneath the tree and Dom on the ladder picking the olives in the top branches. While he is up there he does some pruning, cutting out limbs reaching skyward so that the tree does not grow too tall. The goal is to have airy, open branches in a bowl shape. If the pruned branches have olives on them I strip those directly into one of our collection bins. Afterwards the branches are thrown in a pile to one side of the net. The upturned bin is where I was sitting to work. At some point in the next few weeks we will finish the pruning, collect the branches and throw them on the burn pile. Next spring they will help the grass burn a little more vigorously. We are looking forward to going to the frantoio (olive mill) tomorrow afternoon and finding out how much oil our harvest produces.

Soggy Olives

We spent another long day picking olives. It started out wet but the rain quickly tapered off. Even so it was awfully damp working in the middle of the soggy trees. For the first couple of hours each pull on a branch produced a mini shower. Yuck! Because the temperatures are still warm (mid 60’s) we never really got wet but it was still uncomfortable.

As you can see from the photo of the grapevines, it is looking very autumnal here. The leaves of the vines produce the most vivid colors while the rest of the trees simply turn pale gold or rusty brown. I am including another photo of the view across the valley from our patio. I took it yesterday while we were eating lunch outside. In spite of the overcast skies we ate al fresco again today.

Our total harvest is up to 96 kilos (211 lbs.). Each day we weigh our full bins on our IKEA bathroom scale. Not terribly accurate but close enough. When we go to the mill they will give us an official tally. Our appointment is Thursday afternoon so more picking tomorrow.

Walks, Music and Chestnuts

Another busy weekend!

On Saturday I started out with a stop at the ufficio postale (post office) to mail our absentee ballots. We were pleased to learn this fall that Island County will email the ballots to voters. That made it much easier for us to vote. In the past having them mail the ballots to us here was not very satisfactory. Once neither ballot showed up and once mine arrived but Dom’s did not. Finally, for the last election, we had the ballots forwarded to my parents’ house and my mother express mailed them to us. While I was out I also stopped at the ferramenta (hardware store) where I purchased a new handle for the grass rake. The old one snapped in the middle on Friday when I was using it to poke at the fire.

Back home I did a little gardening—cutting back the climbing rose at the edge of the patio. After lunch I joined some of our neighbors for a Saturday marcia podistica (walker’s march). I completed the 2.5 km course twice for a total of 5 km (about 3 miles).

Dom and I went out for a pizza dinner and later in the evening we attended a concert at our local church celebrating the 40th anniversary of the local blood donors’ group. The church was lovely with all the lights on and the special flowers from last Sunday’s baptism still in full bloom on the altars. The tenor who sang was good enough but when he cut short the program because of problems with his voice he and the pianist did one last number—O Sole Mio. It was the best number of the evening!

Sunday morning we rose early (6 am!!) and took part in the marcia podistica at Orentano, a small town between Lucca and Pontedera. It was another lovely morning and we completed the 6 km course through the town and surrounding countryside. The start of the marcia was in the local school gymnasium which was presided over by their mascot—the Orcino Bandit complete with strategically place salami!

In the afternoon Dom and I met up with friends Bob and Joy and went up to the chestnut sagra (festival) at the top of the Brancoli hill. Our friends Mary and Orlando work at the festival every year. Orlando is one of the chestnut roasters—a role Dom likened to be condemned to Purgatory—while Mary helps serve necci (chestnut flour crepes).

The festival takes up the entire town square so there is little parking at the hilltop village. We took the shuttle bus from the nearby town of Ponte a Moriano. Once at the sagra we said hello to Orlando before we began our chestnut tasting. The main square of the town was full of people having a great time. The fact that wine was free probably helped but so did the music and the Indian summer evening. It took us a while to figure out you had to buy a ceramic bowl in order to get roast or boiled chestnuts. Neither Dom nor I are fond of roast chestnuts but we gamely tried the boiled variety. I was surprised to find I really liked them. They are boiled in salt water with herbs and are quite tasty.

After the boiled chestnuts the four of us found the necci stand. There was another charge for the rolled up crepes that came filled with ricotta or Nutella spread. The necci line was absolute chaos and we waited for over half an hour before getting served. As we reached the front of the mob that served as a “line” I saw that the only woman filling orders was about twenty years of age. To our right were a number of young men with whom she flirted incessantly and served prior to those of us who had been in line much longer. Poor Mary was sort of caught in the middle of the entire necci production line—she waited for crepes, spread ricotta or Nutella on them before the finished product to the young woman filling orders. It was a job that seemed only marginally better than Orlando’s.

We took our necci back to where Orlando was working, refilling our wine glasses along the way. Standing along the stone wall facing the chestnut roasters we ate, kibitzed with Orlando and tried not to get hit by the passing cars. There was so little room to spare that one did not dare stick out a foot for fear it would end up under a tire. The necci were delicious and the view down towards Lucca was spectacular. The light faded and we decided to leave and go for a bowl of pasta.

When we got back to the shuttle bus stop there was quite a crowd waiting. It quickly grew dark and the number of people increased. After fifteen or twenty minutes two busses arrived. They were promptly mobbed by the crowd. We hung back and waited for the second bus. After the first left, Joy was first in line for the second. I got on soon after her and we went to the back of the bus. Unbeknownst to us there was some sort of an argument at the front and the bus driver decided to close the doors when the vehicle still had standing room. It took off down the hill and we saw Bob and Dom start walking down the hill.

Joy and I spent most of the ride trying to figure out what to do. Dom had the keys to our car which was the vehicle all four of us had taken to Ponte a Moriano. Neither Bob nor Dom had a cell phone. Joy had the only keys to their house which was located at the bottom of the hill about halfway between the sagra location and Ponte a Moriano. Eventually we figured out we could get a ride on the shuttle back to Bob and Joy’s house and then we could drive their car up the hill and pick up Dom and Bob. The plan worked perfectly and we found the men part way down the hill. Dom said it was an interesting walk as at times it was pitch black.

The four of us went to Ponte a Moriano for our car before finally going off for our pasta dinner. Afterwards, Dom and I stopped briefly at the party in Partigliano where there was to be dancing and more chestnuts. By that time (9:30 pm) we were so tired all we could do was go home to bed. We were both asleep by 11 pm—early for us!

Today we began the olive harvest. Over 50 kilos (110 lbs.) picked today!

Fire, fire burning bright...

Today we burned the grass. The above photos will give you an idea of the progression of the day.

After yesterday’s rain it was certainly damp enough to risk lighting a fire in the fields. Unfortunately, the rain also meant the grass was partially soaked. Rather than a quick 3-4 hour burn, it took about 7 hours. The day started out wet and several squalls blew threw with more hard rain. When the first downpour started I ran back to the house for an umbrella. We could hear the rain approaching each time (like a rushing stream getting closer and closer) and we huddled under the umbrella each time until it passed.

We started out the day with three piles as large as the first pile we lit plus about a dozen smaller piles scattered around the terraces. After getting the burn pile well alight we kept piling on more grass. Luckily, the grass at the bottom of each pile was still dry so there was enough fuel to keep the fire burning hot throughout the process. It is interesting how the burn pile never gets any larger than it starts out. The fire eats the middle out of the pile, we dump more grass on it and the fire gobbles it up. Eventually all the grass was on the burn pile and the terraces were nice and tidy.

By early afternoon the sky cleared and we basked in the sun watching the last of the pile smolder and collapse in on itself. We sat on the green plastic lawn chairs we hauled out beside the burn pile and watched and watched. Every ten minutes or so one of us would get up and poke at the fire, pulling more grass onto the hot spots and digging unburned grass from the bottom of the pile and putting it on the top. Each time the breeze blew the coals flared, a little more grass blazed and the column of smoke swirled and shifted. Finally, about 6 pm Dom threw some water on the remains of the pile. Right now he is outside checking it again. He will make at least one more trip outside before we got to bed.

Throughout the afternoon we also heard grunting and squealing from near the stream in the woods at the bottom of our property. Occasionally whatever it was sounded rather angry or excited. We think it was probably some of the cinghiali (wild boar) that have been prolific this year. It certainly sounded like pigs. They might have been eating the walnuts that fall from the trees down there. Whatever they were doing we were glad they stayed down in the woods.

Now we are all ready to start the olive harvest on Monday.

I Gatti (The Cats)

It started raining last night and continued off and on throughout the day. Dom talked about burning the grass but every time we made a move to go outside it was pouring again. So, the day was rather lazy—television, books, a trip to the grocery store, meals and internet. Tomorrow we will definitely be out there trying to dispose of the grass.

Here are some pictures of our favorite cats. They came running to the kitchen door a few days after we arrived. Memories of Purina kitty chow no doubt fueled their enthusiasm. They show up most days late morning or early afternoon. The black tom rarely says anything, just waits patiently until I bring out the box and shake a little pile onto their paper plate. The black and white female is quite chatty; so much so that we call her Squeak. She meows and meows outside the door until I appear with rations. After she eats she usually tries to get more food out of us. Waiting outside the kitchen door until she hears us talking, she starts another round of begging. On nice mornings, one or both of them often sit in the grass near the olive tree closest to the house. They bask in the sunshine until we show up and give them reason to be up and at their job of getting another meal out of us.