The train! The train!

So here's what happened, I'll make it short and to the point. I missed my flight from Milan to Rome. I had a choice in front of me, red pill, blue pill...fly to Rome on a later flight and miss the last train to Florence and find a place to stay overnight until the train starts running again or take a train to Rome and transfer to Florence then to Arezzo. The first way I would have my suitcase with me but I'd have to find somewhere to stay in Rome at 10PM, the second puts me on a series of trains that would eventually lead to sleeping in a proper bed. At this point I hadn't slept yet so I decided that maybe I should work on that and caught a train to Milan to Florence S.M.N. to Arezzo. The thing about taking regional travel in another country is that the first time you do it you feel totally helpless. I maneuvered my way around the train system. I got a ticket from an agent in Milan, then from a fast ticket machine, with a little help from my fellow travelers I rode this train to the end of the line.
After a long travel day, I settled into my seat on this abandoned train, my mind settled, my heart settled. The train that took me to Arezzo was a regional train, the train was empty, I mean the whole train was empty. I mean the whole train! Although it was creepy I felt like I was the only one left it a town ravaged by a mysterious disease or zombies. Rolling past darkened train platforms and and villages, it was like I was the last person on earth. A lone survivor of a zombie holocaust, the last scenes of The Warriors on the way back to Coney Island after a long night of running. It was a strange mix of peace and paranoia as I recalled the travel tips for women traveling alone, you know the part where it says "if you find yourself alone in a train car, move to a car with more people". Good advice for a train with other people on it, this warning coupled with a day of no sleep, brought about the creative scenarios of how I would defend myself, what tools could be used as weapons against the kind of gypsy my sister warned me about or a big sloppy Dario Argento type zombie. I could dress them in casual, somewhat fashionable clothing or offer helpful brochures to tour Tuscany's wine regions but that would be all really. That wouldn't stop the zombies from eating my brains but...

Travel Tip: Sleep on the plane.

We pulled into our last stop, Arezzo, around 11PM. I emerged untouched by gypsy or zombie was elated that I was, finally, where I needed to be. I got out at Arezzo, sweet, sweet Arezzo. There were no taxis outside of the train station so I walked to where the people were. I crossed the tracks to the way out, walked to the taxi-less taxi stand, walked to the people in the square where there were plenty of taxis...but no drivers. Some sort of taxi manager approached me, he made a call, no answer. He led me into what appeared to be the town youth community center. Taxi manager introduces my problem to the Youth Organizer who speaks a minimal amount of English. From what I can make out, Youth Organizer will continue to call my driver and also get me a drink. Youth organizer set out a bottle of warm Coke, Orange Fanta and plastic cups. This could've been a tall, sweaty bottle of Budweiser as far as I was concerned at this point in the adventure. I drank my Fanta, the driver was matched with his taxi and off we went. Soon, I will be in the comfort of the villa, I will be in the comfort of family. I hoped there was wine. After climbing the narrow roads and hair pin turns we drive through an 7 ft. tall iron gate toward the Holiday House. Finally, after a near miss B&E and walking around in circles I found the restaurant and met the dreamy owner Iacopa. We followed the hushed voices up the stone stairs and yes there was wine and lasagna and the comfort of family.

Florence

Florence, ah Florence.
I woke up today in the grips of the most beautiful sun seeping in from the door left ajar during the night, in the otherwise cave-like room. I got into the habit of jumping out of bed and swinging the door open so as not to risk missing any part of the day, but today I had that ray of sun coming through the door. I languished, I don't know when the last time I languished; I implore you to languish whenever you get the chance.

I had, up until this point in the journey spent a large amount of time by myself, ya know chasing after luggage and rectifying impetuous travel decisions. This was a day that I would have travel companions and, my own toothbrush and a choice of sweet summery dresses from my luggage retrieved.

Taking the Trentalia regional train into Florence was the most convenient means, so my travel companions, Nat 'n' Nancy, and I drove down the hill from the villa to the station. Now, if I had learned anything from the past arduous journeys it was how to expertly buy passage on a train using the most convenient ticket machines. I wowed my companions with my adeptness at the touch screen, in five moves I bought my ticket and walked them through the wonderful world of the modern touch screen ticketing apparatus, avoiding the old fashioned queue of suckers leading up to the human ticket seller...ahh technology.

Upon our arrival in Florence, we found a cafe where a right Italian breakfast of espresso and sweet pastries awaited us. After a selection of cornetti; we had a chocolate raspberry pastry and an almond croissant, with the most satisfying espresso. Now that we were filled with sugar and caffeine headed down the streets with a plan and a map, I felt it was best that they be the masters of the map...getting lost in a city by yourself is an adventure but with others it is mind numbingly frustrating.

Our eventual destination was Galleria dell'Accademia and the Galleria degli Uffizi, where we would meet up with brotha and sistah-in-law. So before that, we walked through the open air markets shaking our heads at the aggressive merchants and nodding at the friendly ones who just wanted to say "hi". We wandered to the Duomo and Baptistry. It was awe inspiring to enter the cathedral, I didn't expect it to be, but I held my breath walking into the building. It immediately brought to mind the memory of my mother as these religious experiences often do. Today, however, she was most on my mind as it was her birthday which she shares with brother Michael. On the train I had sent him a birthday greeting and a part of me almost did the same for her.
As Duomos go this one was rather plain compared to most according to the fun fact I overheard from the tour guide leading the line of  American tourists behind me. I circled around, eyes scaling the stained glass windows to the candles and lit a candle for Kathleen. I prayed a Happy Birthday Hail Mary, a fact that she would've pointed out with her sweet sarcasm how she was impressed that I entered a church and it had not collapsed behind me.

It was off to see the art and the naked boy David at L'Accademia. I had much the same feeling seeing David that I did seeing the Statue of Liberty for the first time. A photo cannot capture the immensity of the statue. It was really amazing to see such detail at such a large scale. After that we got a lunch in a trattoria close to the gallery then said goodbye to Michael and Amy until later.

Up to the Villa

I slept into the late afternoon, woke up to a dark cave like room in a soft king size bed. I jumped from the bed and threw some clothes on and when I opened the door I hit a wall of beauty indescribable. Podere Pomaia is located on the on the grounds of a winery, agriturismo and organic farm. It sits on top of the of the mountain region looking down onto Arezzo. Peach, walnut and olive trees peppered the rolling hills behind and around the villa, lavender bushes lined the stone steps leading up to the house and rows of grapevines covered the property. Every view was breath taking, surrounded by this beauty was quite humbling.

The restaurant is steps away from the villa, this is where we took most of our meals and learned how to make homemade pasta. Iacopa was the reserved, dreamy proprietor of the whole operation, his vivacious girl friday was Anna. She was a force of nature really, think of an Italian Gilda Radner, all smiles, energy and a laugh that was simply inspiring. Anna acted as server, sommelier, manager, hostess and cooking teacher. They welcomed our little family into their little family.

One Coin in The Fountain

I had to return to Rome Fiumcino Airport to fetch my luggage so I gave myself enough time to be to stop in Rome. There would be no time to see the heavy hitters, Vatican City, the Colisseum and the Pantheon so I planned instead on going to the Trevi Fountain. Legend has it that if you throw a coin over your left shoulder with your right hand you will be returning to Rome so that is where I was headed, following a legend. The same legend has it that if you throw two coins you will find a new love...damn, I never read the fine print.
Like the beauty of Tuscany, the feeling is indescribable of being surrounded by so much history. The streets walked down are the same as that of two and half thousand years, for instance, the aqueduct system still supplies water to the Romans. Being in this city makes these sort of facts more interesting than just reading about them in books, I thought while I read the brochure from the train station gift shop, under the "Interesting Facts About Rome" section.

So, I wandered the ancient streets Rome looking for the fountain, doing the slow touristy walk head pivoting from left to right in slow movements, periodically dodging out of the way of a Roman or two, let's just say that I have a new appreciation and compassion for tourists now. I owned my clueless annoying tourist inside of me unfolding my over sized maps, stopping dead in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk to read said over sized map, "dove-ing" my way through the ancient streets of quaint Italian villages and cities.
Almost every cobbled street gone down ended with a breath taking view. I found the monument to Vittorio Emanuele II to be most impressive, white marble and shining gold statues. I was on a mission however to see the fountain, throw my coin into the fountain then to the airport to get my luggage.
I had been without other clothes for a couple of days now, wearing the outfit that Hillary gave me. Although I appreciated the kindness of my villa mates, gathering toiletries and clothes for me, I wanted to feel the comfort of washing my face with my face soap, I wanted to use my new purple puffy shower sponge-y thing, the trip so far had been so much work that I wanted a few of my creature comforts. Not to mention what if it rained? I would miss the chance to wear my rain boots.
I found the Trevi Fountain and it was magnificent. I maneuvered stealthily through crowds, I noticed that the tourist mobs here were quite bit different than in the U.S., less pushing and moaning...sorry the U.S. I was focused on getting to the fountain, like I said and then I felt someone grab my hand. Oh boy! Was this the new love legend? I didn't even throw a coin yet...oh happy day. His vise grip tightened and he led me hurriedly through the crowd. "Scuzzi..." I muttered oh but wait this man was not Italian as he turned his head to the side I noticed he was Korean, oh why didn't I pay more attention to Korean in school? I looked behind me, oh good, his wife was there, who if I may say didn't look worried in the least bit about getting separated from her husband. Soon she saw my face and called to him something in Korean. Then we all had ourselves a tourist laugh together. Then I threw my coin and told Rome to wait for me.