Cold in Como

Our first day in Como was cold (by Florida standards for sure) and add to that a 25mph wind; and we decided to forego boating on beautiful Lake Como. Too choppy, too chilly! The best option for us was taking the funicular up the side of the steep hill to Brunate, a lovely Italian village.

The funicular was completed in 1894. Since spending time in Europe, that didn’t even seem old anymore. On exiting the funicular, we were treated to lovely views. My breath was taken away by the view of the Alps, but the surroundings we were standing in were lovely as well. This was Brunate.

Hotel in Brunate

The beautiful, blue sky was compensation for the cold temperatures, though I did check the shop for a beanie style hat to keep my ears warm. It was to no avail as it was supposed to be spring. This was not the first time that I had inquired as to the normalcy of the winter-like temperatures. And this was not the first time that I was told there is a saying in Italy – “April does what it wants!” No worries, I would be warm again when I got back to Florida.

There was a man making bracelets set up in an out-of-the-way booth. He told me the bracelets were made of Murano glass, which he described as “important” to Italy, particularly Venice. He also was selling lace doilies. These he described as important as well, especially since his mother made them. It’s a treat to chat with local people and hear them talk about their country. I love the way the Italians use the word “important” to describe things dear to their heritage.

The funicular only goes so far up the hill, but we hired a taxi/jeep to take us to the top. We figured we’d ride up and walk down, but after our ride along the steep, narrow streets, we thought better of it, a decision our knees would thank us for!

Once we got out of the jeep, there were stairs waiting for us to go to the lighthouse at the very top of the hill (note, for Floridians this is like mountain climbing).

Up, up, up we went, and we were rewarded with the best views of the Alps. Whatever breath hadn’t been taken away before, was surely gone as we feasted our eyes on the Swiss Alps.

All this fresh air and walking really stirs up an appetite. We had choices. Perhaps the Osteria Bar and Pizzeria, which was attached to a church or was that vice versa.

That was almost novel enough to have us eat there, but we opted for a place with a better view. We were glad we did. Our first course was bruschetta three ways. We order bruschetta often, both at home and abroad. This was the best we ever had. Our favorite had caramelized onions atop. Magnifica! We followed that with soup in keeping with our pursuit of warmth. Yum!

Back at sea level (or lake level), before we joined our friends for dinner and wine, I found a pop-up soccer souvenir stand and bought a beanie. My ears were grateful. Now I looked like a fan of the Italian national team. That works for me.

On Sunday some of us ventured out to church. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, because a service in a language I could not understand didn’t sound worthy of rising early. Let me tell you, though, you never know what you may experience, and this was worth it. Danny, who is also the founding pastor of our church and like our other traveling companions, a friend for over 40 years, wanted to check out the churches. We split again, with some sleeping in and some of us going to the 10:00 service at the Como Duomo, at least we went for the beginning of it. Listening to the pipe organ is amazing in any language.

The previous day during a walk we had found an Evangelical church. The service there began at 10:30, so we did some church hopping. This church was modest in stature. The people were friendly and several spoke English. We were greeted warmly and every person we met was excited to introduce us to the pastor. She is originally from Germany, but she speaks English well. So well, in fact, that she preached the service in Italian and English. We weren’t sure if that was for our benefit or not, but it was very moving that she would go to the trouble.

They handed out song booklets like what we had in the church we were going to back in the 1980s and 90s. It was a joy to see some of the old songs printed in English and Italian. The church was close to Presbyterian in doctrine, and their service that day was abbreviated as they had a meeting going on after the service, so we were there on the perfect day. Gloria a Dio!

It was an afternoon of meandering around Lake Como and imagining what it would be like if it weren’t so windy! We made the best of it and totally enjoyed being immersed in Como. Our hotel was situated in Piazza Camillo Benso Conte di Cavour (piazza translates to square). We happened upon a band finishing up a concert. They were playing Beat It by Michael Jackson.

There was lots of activity in the square as the band broke down the stage, including an alley of clowns that wandered onto the scene. (Yes, that’s what a group of clowns is called. That was new to me.)

Recorded music was being played in the background and we watched as folks boogied across the square while kids kicked a soccer ball around and Danny finally got McDonalds. After a while, you need a taste of home.

We were scheduled to leave Como and go to Switzerland the next morning via train. The itinerary was Como to Lugano to Lucerne. The hotel concierge informed us that we would likely have to deal with a scheduled train strike. They have them periodically, so to the Italians it’s part of life. But for us, this was alarming. We were told that we could possibly get out before it starts but we should have an alternative plan. Start and stop times of these is precise and they would last 24 hours or so. That was not information that comforted us.

We walked to a close-by train station (not the one we would depart from) and the attendant said that our train would not be affected. She even double-checked it with the main train station and told us we should be fine. Probably because of that pesky language barrier, we weren’t completely relieved. I’d say we were about 80 percent. Total relief wouldn’t happen until the next day when we hopefully boarded our train.

The following morning, we arrived at the Como S. Giovanni Railway Station, and it appeared our trip would not be cancelled. Nearly every other trip was canceled due to the strike. We were thankful as we set out on the next chapter.

Switzerland, here we come!

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 27, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Europe, Faith, Friendship, People that I Meet, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 27, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/27/cold-in-como/

Arrivederci, Siena; Ciao, Como!

Our last day in Siena was a day of rest (and laundry). It was also a day to try out a different restaurant for lunch. We googled pizza places nearby, and I was thrilled to find one with a sense of humor. You don’t always see that on a website. This ristorante was so proud of their pizza crust that they claimed you would “go to Hell” if you didn’t eat it. Even though this challenged my theology, I was intrigued, but unfortunately the ristorante was not open – a problem I have mentioned here in the past. They keep different eating hours over there.

We did find a super cute place with a great view. I deviated from pasta and Italian meats and went straight for a steak. The word on the streets of Tuscany was you need to get a steak while you’re there. Also, when ordering, don’t attempt to tell them how you want it cooked. Apparently, they don’t like that. Leave that to the chef! It was delicious and the presentation was molto attraente (very appealing).

Other than lunchtime, we spent the entire day at our VRBO, Capanna di Elfo, which even though it translates to Elf Hut in English, we did not see any elves. We did see birds. Our friends and fellow travelers, Jim and Ann, are birders; and Jim pointed out purple martins as they flew overhead. That was new on my lifetime list, which is always exciting to me. However, the birding prize of the trip was a unique guy called a Eurasian Hoopoe. I had never heard of these, so I was thrilled.

One morning while getting ready for the day in my typical spot in our bathroom, which was by an open window which allowed for better lighting and overlooked the hill town, I heard a funny sound – like “who, who, who.” From Jim’s description, I knew this had to be him – the hoopoe, not Jim. Although Jim has a pretty fun sense of humor, so I could not be sure. When I finally went outside, I was able to spot the hoopoe. To add to that, Debi had been chasing him around the property and she took this amazing video. Thanks, Debi, for letting me post it.

We ended the day by gathering in the living room for a few moments of thankfulness to God for our trip and for our friendships. The next morning (Friday), we would say a sad goodbye to this chapter. Of the places we visited, I think Tuscany was my favorite of this trip; perhaps largely due to the accommodations we booked there. The Elf Hut was the beautiful launching pad to this exquisite region.

Bob and I woke up nervous the next morning. We had to return our rental cars in Florence and our trip two days prior was kind of a nightmare. We thought Friday traffic might be worse. Thankfully, this was not the case. There was still the getting-there part, but it was uneventful other than trying to gas up the cars, which proved complicated. We could easily gas up one, which took diesel so technically we fueled the car, but the car which Bob drove could not be filled in the same station, and there was no attendant – something we were getting accustomed to. After a short trip down the road, we filled our tank. We turned in our cars (hooray!) and walked the short distance to the train station. It was time to add trains to the planes and automobiles transportation modes of our trip.

But first, we eat. Another great Italian meal to fuel us for our trip to Como via Milan.

They’ve got the meats!

Just another cork project

Inside the Florence train station. Note the artwork above. It shows the clothing and hair movement as a result of a train passing.

I love traveling by train, but getting on the train can be stressful. We were thankful that we had traveled light. Wheeling a carry-on suitcase with a backpack strapped to the top is the way to go. We all made it safely on our first train. Addio, Firenze!

Connecting in Milan was exciting (translate stressful). We watched the boards for which platform we would board our train. It told us the train was on time, but the particular platform remained a mystery until the very last minute. We had, of course, used the restrooms while waiting, but we hadn’t thought to make our way to the center of the large Milan train station to ease our boarding process. Thus, we were very far from our indicated platform when they finally told us the one to which we needed to proceed. Right away. It was time to board.

The Milan train station was huge.

Canine traveler all gussied up. She was trembling with excitement.

Keeping eight of us together is challenging in these circumstances. As usual, Bob was in the front of our pack of travelers. I was close behind and heard him inquire as to which cars we should board to use our purchased first-class tickets. These cars were marked with a prominent #1, she told him. The first car was already packed, she informed us. We should go several cars down and get on any with the #1 on it.

At this point it was every man for himself. Six of us climbed on board about four cars back, but where were Danny and Melodye? We settled into our nice leather seats and looked around. The doors were closing. We texted and discovered our friends were slowed by rushing travelers who almost knocked them to the ground. In the kerfuffle, they lost sight of us but saw the #1 on the first car and wedged themselves in just in time. Sadly, they could not pull a Red Sea maneuver and join us in comfort. They rode the entire leg of the trip standing up like cows in a cattle car. At least we knew we would end up in Como together. It was a very mooving experience for them.

Como was touted as a favorite by everyone we knew who had visited there. We were looking forward to a boat ride on the beautiful lake and possibly visiting the much-ballyhooed Bellagio, the lovely village on the other side of the lake from where we stayed that overlooks Lake Como and was the inspiration for the Bellagio Hotel in Vegas. The cold front that came through two days earlier had us rethink our plans.

We got off the train in Como to find it breezy and chilly. We knew we had an 11-minute walk ahead of us to our hotel, but the conversion of minutes from English to Italian must have not been counted correctly as it took us approximately forever to schlep our bags along the cobblestone streets, including down a long set of stairs, mostly going in the correct direction, and finally arriving at our hotel, the Barchetta Excelsior. It was time to check in, recover a little, and find food.

We ate at a close-by pizza place, right next to McDonalds. We enjoyed a slice, some wine, and finished with limoncello.

We also found room for gelato, which we ate in the shadow of the Como Cathedral, or as is more fun to say, the Como Duomo. Officially it is (in Italian) Cattedrale di Santa Maria Assunta, or Duomo di Como).

Thus ended our Friday. What would Saturday bring?

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 22, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Birding, Europe, Friendship, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 22, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/22/arrivederci-siena-ciao-como/

A Florentine Faux Pas – Fun in Florence

The night before we were to tour Florence, the six of our friends whom we were traveling with let us know that they were enjoying the VRBO so much that they decided to rest there the next day instead of taking our scheduled tours. Everyone was understandably tired, but Bob and I decided we weren’t that tired. This was an interesting part of our trip, as it revealed the level of friendship that we have with these folks. We can tell each other what we want or don’t want to do, and there are no offenses taken. It’s truly wonderful to have that kind of friendship.

The thought that I had to battle was that we possibly broke our friends. Had we been pushing too much? We all recognized going into this trip that Bob and I tend towards more aggressive touring – a FOMO (fear of missing out) mentality. Our friends enjoy a simpler, slower pace that allows more rest and taking in the ambience of the area. Both ways are fine, of course. It’s all what you want out of a trip or what you need any given day. Still, I was sad that they weren’t going to get to see Michaelangelo’s David and the city of Florence. They were fine with it, so we were, too. The next morning, off we went just the two of us.

Before I continue, here’s a teaser. Bob broke two laws on our trip to Florence – hence the Florentine faux pas. In my eyes both counts were totally understandable and fell into the category of doing what you must while observing the intent rather than the letter of the law. I’m thankful he didn’t have to go to Italian jail.

It should have been an hour’s drive, but the traffic was horrendous, so it was double that. As we inched into the city, we were thankful for our friends’ sake that they took a restful day at the VRBO. It was exhausting.

We had mapped our way to a parking garage, and even at the swift pace of about 2 mph, we missed the turn as it was blocked by a panel truck. It took 20 minutes to go back around the block. The light into the garage was green, but we could not activate the gate. There was no one there, so I walked down the ramp and I saw one open space. I reported back to Bob. Having no other way in or out, Bob was forced to back up the steep incline from the garage with me watching from the sidewalk above/behind him to avoid cyclists and pedestrians. There are people and bicycles everywhere in the city.

When I reached my vantage point up the hill, I looked down and noticed that Bob was no longer in the car. This would have been more troubling if I did not know my husband like I do. There was no one around here, and our trip had been twice as long as we reckoned, so I had a feeling that Bob was on the uncomfortable side after having drunk a Coke Zero on the way. When I saw him get back in the car, we were both relieved. We’ll call this Faux Pas Number 1.

We knew that he could not back up and get back on the road from whence we came. That left no choice but to back up and drive down the sidewalk. (Faux Pas Number 2). Have I mentioned that he was driving a standard transmission? He was a pro backing up that incline and turning and driving down the sidewalk like a sluggish Mario Andretti. I walked ahead of him to clear the way of any obstacles. “Aye yai yai.” (Excuse my Spanish!)

Upon our dismount from the sidewalk, an angel in an orange vest appeared. He flagged us down and showed us where to park. It was valet parking, so we handed over the rental car keys not really caring if we ever saw the car again. All of this made us a half an hour late for our appointment at the Galleria del’Accademia. We approached someone in the crowd who looked official, and he helped us to join the next tour. We were grateful.

Our tour guide, Glenda, was lovely. The highlight of the tour was everything by Michelangelo. There is something about walking down the corridor flanked with his unfinished sculptures, which he carved in the 1500s. Michelangelo described these as statues that were within blocks of marble. He claimed he would chip away at the marble to see what emerged. That is a splendid example of how a creative person thinks.

As fascinating and beautiful as all of that was, looking down to the end of the corridor and seeing the Statue of David meant beholding another level of Michelangelo’s artistic genius – a true masterpiece. David is surely the piece de resistance of the Galleria.

Besides seeing David, the main impetus for us to go back to Florence was going inside the duomo – Duomo di Firenze. Our last visit was on a Sunday, and you cannot go inside unless you are there for a service. As you can see by the pictures, the outside is stunning.

The dome is the largest brick dome ever made.

I was surprised at the simplicity of the interior of this Duomo. It is clearly magnificent on the outside, so I figured it would be quite ornate inside. I was wrong. While this duomo could never be described as humble, it was in comparison to the one in Siena.

I was fascinated by these lampstands. People would occasionally approach them and light a candle. It gave a warm glow, as you can see.

While we lingered inside waiting for the rain to stop, I saw a girl of around 12 years old, who was staring at her irritated eye in the bathroom mirror. I offered eyedrops, but she only spoke French. I was hesitant to try to convince her since she was not with her parents.

As Bob and I were going up the stairs to the main floor, she was in front of us. I warned Bob not to touch the hand railing as I was sure she had pink eye. Her parents greeted her at the top of the stairs, and she was quite distressed. I walked over to them and offered eyedrops. Her father was grateful and wanted me to put them in. I told them I wouldn’t touch her just have her open her eye wide and look up. I put a few drops in and handed her a tissue. I only share this because years ago while traveling with these same friends I had a terrible case of pink eye, so I am gun-shy when it comes to being around it. I thought it was cool of God to let me offer relief to someone who was suffering like I had.

The rain faded to a drizzle but with the temperatures dropping, we were not excited about getting wet. We headed for the nearest restaurant and were seated immediately. (Thankful, again.)

Note the restaurant began in 1882!

Our lovely meal began with a starter of bruschetta accompanied by a glass of Chianti, which was recommended by our guide Glenda as the go-to wine of the region. I had risotto with asparagus and salami – easily the best risotto I’ve ever tasted.

The sun came out as we ambled down the street, totally happy with a full tummy and the warmth of the wine as we faced a chill in the air. Bob and I absorbed as much of Florence as we could before going back to our friends in Siena. We were quite tired and happy to find our car right where we left it. That’s a good day.

All the rain earlier in the day brought a cold front which stayed for the remainder of our trip. We enjoyed another Siena sunset before settling in for the evening.
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by Bonnie Anderson on May 20, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 20, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/20/a-florentine-faux-pas-fun-in-florence/

Wine Tasting in Montepulciano

On our second full day in Tuscany, we headed to Montepulciano, which is about an hour’s drive from our Siena VRBO. But first let me share one of the most shocking moments from our trip. Danny, a member of our little gang of travelers, rose early one morning, before anyone else was out of bed, and captured this photo of a gorgeous sunrise.

The magnitude of this can only be appreciated if you, like Bob and I, had lived next door to Danny and his wife Melodye for 32 years and know that they are night people. I’d expect a good sunset picture, but this! What a delightful surprise and great documentation of the part of the day that I rarely experience. But now to our rental cars and another hill town.

Montepulciano is a magnificent medieval and Renaissance hill town. It is a delight for the eyes and the palate, especially if that palate is fond of wine. As is constant in Tuscany, there is beauty everywhere – from architecture to landscapes to the richness of history. They know how to do “old” over there.

We met Sarah, our engaging, informative tour guide as we entered Cantina Ercolani. Cantina translates cellar and Ercolani is the family name. Citta Sotterranea means underground city, and that’s where the wine cellar is. We followed Sarah through the passageways, and it felt like we went back in time.

Bob and I had been to this area before, and I was excited to show our friends Montepulciano. On our first trip here, nine years ago, we enjoyed tasting the wines of the region while walking through this town. I was especially eager to show my friend Debi, who writes the blog the Romantic Vineyard. She has a huge penchant for wine and I knew she’d love the experience. You can check out her blog including some of her takes on our trip here.

You could caption this picture anywhere between

Drunk on wine knowledge to Is it time to taste the wine yet?

I looked at those huge barrels and never once imagined anyone having to clean them out. Kind of like the top of the refrigerator or the backseat of a mom’s minivan, I assumed they never got their due attention. But, in order to have great wine, periodically those barrels have to have the sediment removed and that is a job for a big wine lover of small stature. Notice the bottom of the barrel where the faucet is. The wood looks like a cartoon mousehole with a locking mechanism affixed to it. That gets removed and someone crawls through the hole to extricate sediment from the barrel. Sarah is holding up a video on her cell phone that shows a man climbing through that hole. That is commitment to good wine!

These barrels are made from French oak. Smaller barrels intensify the wood flavor in wine. The glass on top of the barrels is an aerator. It is said to have been invented by Leonardo di Vince to keep air from ruining the wine. That begs the question – why do we let wine breathe after opening a bottle? After a few sips of wine, I decided it doesn’t matter.

These are white wine barrels and I felt like I needed to give white wine its due, especially since I am a red person. These are chestnut barrels from Tuscany. The white wine will age in them for 5 – 10 years.

We mustn’t forget about olive oil.

All that lecture-based education lent itself to some hands-on learning. That’s right – it was time to taste the wine. We were offered ten varieties of wine to sample, each paired with various antipasto to enhance the wine’s flavor. By the time we hit the seventh taste, though I hate to admit it, I was getting tipsy. Don’t tell my kids. They would be so embarrassed of me. I guess I had been so concerned about my stamina to do all the walking that I had neglected building my wine-drinking stamina.

This was about the point that I knew I needed more food and less wine. The food pairings were delicious, and the small wooden plates with a slot for the wine glass were adorable.

The fresh air did us good as we again walked up, up, up while taking in the views and doing a little shopping along the way. We were happy to find a place to enjoy a late afternoon snack as well, and the view was amazing as always.

Little did we know that this was our last warm day of the trip. Like Mary Poppins, change was in the wind.

One last parting shot. It’s been great, Montepulciano!

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 16, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 16, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/16/wine-tasting-in-montepulciano/

Siena

There is more to Tuscany than its rolling hills and amazing food and wine. There is also gelato. I should mention that each town has a town square in which to enjoy food, drink, conversation, and shopping; and these are great places to find gelato. This was Bob’s and my second trip to the area, so I knew that gelato is everywhere – kind of like Starbucks or Wawa here in Florida. But you cannot get every flavor of gelato everywhere, and all gelato is not created equal. As we entered the spacious Piazza del Campo, Siena’s medieval town square, I took a moment to breathe it all in.

Piazza del Campo

Then I did my first scouting for gelato. There it was – mere steps away. I alerted our fellow travelers to the treasure, but it was Bob and I alone who made the short trek to the smooth, creamy, banana-flavored delight. I was ecstatic because it is not easy to find banana, the best flavored gelato, and here it was at our first gelato effort. Success.

I don’t remember who this statue depicted, but the gelato was delicious!

Our friends did not understand the significance of this gelato event and were more absorbed by the ancient architecture and overall cultural experience. I suppose they had full tummies from our lovely lunch at La Taverna di San Giuseppe, which we finished only minutes before entering the square. But as the old adage states, “There’s always room for gelato.”

Walking the streets of Siena reveals beauty at every turn. For instance, laundry hanging from windows above the streets in the states seems wrong, but in Italy, it’s artistic. I suppose not so much for the locals, but for us Americans it’s a photo op. I have to admire their commitment to clean clothes even if it does mean airing your laundry for tourists to capture for posterity. As I was taking this picture, a lady walked past me and looked quizzically at me. I assured her that I do not regularly take pictures of laundry, but somehow here, in Siena, it was beautiful. A slice of life, if you will.

When you think of the hill towns in Tuscany, you may get so caught up in the beauty of them that you don’t stop to think that half of your walking is going to be uphill. And the other half is harder on your knees, but thankfully there is a lot to distract you. The culmination of a trip to Siena occurs when you turn the corner and first behold the duomo (an Italian term for cathedral). It is magnificent, and it beckons you to keep walking up, up, up.

The back of the duomo – pretty impressive for a backdoor

We approached the duomo from the back, which is impressive enough, but instead of entering through the backdoor, which we could have, we walked up many more stairs to behold this magnificent cathedral from the front, which is worth the effort.

Up, up, up we go

This will get your heart rate going for sure, but while you get it back to a resting rate, there is a musician playing in the square and it’s a good time to reflect on the beauty of it all. It is magnificent and worth simply standing for a long while, putting your phone in your pocket, and being thankful you get to be there.

This gothic-style cathedral towers over the surrounding square. Inside of it you are treated to amazing architecture, stained glass windows, and the art of masters such as Donatello and Michealangelo. The construction took place roughly between 1215 and 1263. The gold on the top front of the façade shines differently throughout the day as the sun reflects off it. Inside and out are horizontal stripes prompting me think of Where’s Waldo and making me wish I had worn my black and white striped shirt for a little extra fun. The stripes are actually white and greenish-black marble. Black and white are the colors of Siena.

Words are difficult to find to describe the beautiful sanctuary, so here are some pictures.

This bronze statue of John the Baptist by Donatella was finished in 1457.

I mentioned in my previous post that the eight of us travelers are all of a “certain” age. That means that keeping sure footing is another thing near the top of the list of safety precautions for us. Steps are everywhere and they don’t believe in hand railings or uniformity of the stairs, so it is important to tread with care. This is one of my favorite pictures from the trip, which I took at great personal risk as then I had to walk down the stairs alone, holding the wall like those before me.

Cautious footing is the order of the day

At the end of our tour of the duomo and its surroundings, we were able to sit and have a glass of wine and some panforte, which was among the few offerings available at this cafe since the kitchen was not open – it was only 5:30, after all.

We followed the reverse path back to our cars, stopping briefly in the Piazza del Campo for one more look. Then we were off to the grocery store to make sure we had plenty of wine. Wine is cheap over there – even good wine! We did not buy this gigantic one, which I think is about 1.25 gallons, and was very heavy. After all, every day in Tuscany is legs day. I hadn’t lifted anything heavier than a piece of lasagne all day.

Note the cheap prices!

Our first full day in Siena ended as we photographed the beautiful sunset and headed back to the house for a glass of wine and an early bedtime.

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 13, 2024  •  Permalink
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 13, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/13/siena/

It’s Always a Good Time for Tuscany

Should one return to Tuscany on a regular basis and if so, how regular should that basis be? This is a question that I also ask myself about Hawaii. Both places are breathtakingly beautiful and are favorites of mine. To be in either place is to experience a great sense of peace and relaxation; but ironically, I get pretty doggone tired when visiting both places. Then again, Bob and I are fairly aggressive travelers, so I should clarify – tired and happy and strangely energized.

To answer the question from the beginning of this post – Yes, one should go to Tuscany on a regular basis or an irregular basis, or just once, if at all possible! That is if you’d like to experience old Italy, great food and wine, classic architecture, great food and wine, timeless art, great food and wine, beautiful rolling hills, great food and wine, spectacular sunrises and sunsets, and great food and wine.

A little backstory for our most recent trip – we have traveled extensively with three other couples, all of whom we’ve enjoyed friendship with for over forty years. It has been over a decade since we have had the privilege of traveling together. When the last of our group retired at the end of 2023 and told us they were considering going to Italy, the door opened for another group trip. Actually, I’m not sure if the door opened or if we kicked it in, but either way, last month the eight of us set off for Italy and Switzerland on an adventure.

Traveling at our current “certain” age is vastly different than it was over a decade ago, even though we would have considered ourselves a “certain” age way back then. Silly us! We are now more “certain” than ever and a bit slower, too, but we managed our trip with friendships and body parts intact. That’s a win.

We chose not to check baggage as we were literally doing a planes, trains, and automobiles type of trip with four different destinations along the way. You may notice striking similarities in our luggage and backpacks as we texted each other with every detail of our trip planning. (Thanks, Amazon.) I’m not sure if it’s a thing, but it may be time to get the tires rotated on our luggage. We gave them a workout on those cobblestone streets.

Six of us began in Orlando on a Saturday morning. We connected with the other two in Charlotte, and from there we headed to Florence via Madrid. I don’t like math, but I’m guessing that it took us about a zillion hours to arrive at our VRBO in Siena. (a zillion = approximately 23, according to my engineer and numbers guy, Bob)

Siena – che bello! These sights eased our travel-weary souls!

These are the views from our VRBO in Siena. (Here is a link in case you’d like to book here yourself. I highly recommend it. https://www.vrbo.com/10788011ha)

There were a few things that were musts for us American certain-agers. First and foremost was our own bedroom with attached bathroom. The bed size must be queen or larger. They don’t designate bed sizes the same way as we do in the states, but we were able to figure it out. This VRBO in Siena checked all the boxes. It even had a washer and dryer, though one should note that a clothes dryer in Europe will likely be a rack on which to hang clothes, which was the case for us. Still, it was bene da noi (fine by us).

We started our visit with a catered dinner at our new Siena home. This was an extravagance suggested by the owner, and it paid off in spades as we were all tired and hungry. This pair of lovely Italian ladies invaded the kitchen and put out a spread worthy of a king. This included an appetizer which included home-made crackers. I didn’t know that was even a thing. Perhaps I’m easily impressed, but they were deliziosa! Home-made bread and charcuterie with fresh vegies and honey were just the beginning. Our main course was ravioli. It was the first time I had eaten it aside from Chef Boyardee. Chef Boyardee has been canned! For dessert – tiramisu. I didn’t even think I liked that, but I do!

The nighttime held a welcome of its own. The blue, blue sky framed our lovely home with warm lights emitting a special glow. The sound of a nightingale, which was a new one for me, was like a lullaby! And this lovely place to lay our weary heads and rest for the journey ahead – so special.

One of the challenges for us was adjusting to the eating times in Italy. We had coffee and breakfast in our Siena home, but for the rest of the meals, we had to wing it. Most restaurants closed around 2:30 and didn’t open again until 7:00. It seemed like we all got hungry sometime close to 2:00 and had to scramble to find someplace to eat or else wait until 7:00.

As we walked into Siena, we quickly came across an osteria, which translates – a place of serving wine and simple food. We asked if the eight of us could be seated but it was not possible. How about two tables of four? Again, no. As we turned to leave, the hostess came to us and asked if we could split into two tables and be finished eating in an hour and a half as she had reservations for that time. I told her, “No problem. We’re Americans. We excel at eating fast.”

So cozy!

The wine cellar

As we entered La Taverna di San Giuseppe, we didn’t feel like there was anything “simple” about the place. It was as inviting as a warm hug and a perfect reflection of everything Tuscan. There was a wine cellar downstairs which could be seen from our dining table. It was the perfect photo op. Bob and I ordered lasagna, something I don’t order at home. It was delicious and unlike anything I have tasted our side of the Atlantic. There was no red sauce, and the ricotta cheese was whipped as smooth as Barry White.

The outside of the restaurant was covered in Michelin plaques and the restaurant is featured in their guide, but I couldn’t figure out if it actually achieved star status, so I simply have awarded it 2 stars. After consulting with the other seven of our group and hearing rave reviews, it was the least I could do.

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 9, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Europe, Friendship, Travel
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 9, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/09/its-always-a-good-time-for-tuscany/

Shootout in Ocklawaha!

Years ago, Bob and I took a day trip through the Ocala area to encounter a part of Florida which was unknown to us. During that time, we had lunch on the edge of beautiful Lake Weir in Ocklawaha, just down the shoreline from the house where the Justice Department (not yet the FBI, though under the leadership of J. Edgar Hoover) gunned down two members of the infamous Karpis-Barker gang in their famous raid of 1935. This is touted as the longest FBI shootout in history. The house where this occurred is now called the Bradford – Ma Barker house. The Bradford part is because Ma Barker had rented the Bradford home through a mutual acquaintance. It was to be their summer hideout, unbeknownst to Mr. Bradford who enjoyed it as a hunting retreat and get-away from his main home in the Miami area.

The 2100 sq. ft. house has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The kitchen is well-equipped for the day and the living area is spacious.

We tried to get an up-close look at the house that day but could only get as close as the edge of the property along the street. We dared not trespass as that was clearly forbidden by the signage on the property, but months later we saw a news report that the house, which was built in the 1930s, was being moved across the lake to its now permanent residence in the Carney Island Recreation and Conservation Area, a part of Marion County Parks and Rec Department. Mr. Bradford had maintained ownership of the house after the shoot-out and had gone back for visits frequently. At some point it was sold, and the new owner wanted to build a new house on the lot. He gave the house, bullet holes and all, along with its entire contents, to Marion County, Florida, who arranged for the moving of the house.

My husband alongside a splay of bullet holes in an upper bedroom.

Most people are familiar with Depression era gangsters and mobsters, even if just through movies or TV. John Dillinger, Al Capone, Ma Barker, and especially Bonnie and Clyde were well-known for their nefarious lifestyles. Throughout my life (even as recently as last year), when introduced to someone new, I have often been asked, “Where’s Clyde?” This is accompanied by laughter from the person asking, as if they were the only one to come up with that great line! It’s the cross that I bear as a woman named Bonnie.

The lifestyle of gangsters was somewhat glamorized by TV and movies. For sure there is good story involved in the lives of these people – lots of suspense and intrigue, but only at the cost of suffering and death of their victims – not to mention the terrorizing of communities across the country.

Where my movie and television viewing preferences definitely lie in the comedy genre, a quality comedic offering can be as hard to find as Ma Barker and her gang were back in the 1930s. So, I often find myself ensconced in one of the many action/drama stories, as that selection is huge. I like a good story that I am totally unable to relate to from the comfort of my cozy, safe living room.

There was a movie made in 1960 that told the story of Ma Barker and her killer brood. It’s aptly entitled Ma Barker’s Killer Brood. It’s black and white and doesn’t hold up well; that is if it ever was any good at all. Still, we watched it as a preliminary study before we went to do the tour. It is tremendously inaccurate, and let me save you some time, don’t bother watching it. Instead, come to Florida and take the tour. The tour guide who enlightened us to the Barker gang was the best docent I have ever had.

Our docent in the middle of a captive audience telling of Ma and her gang while standing in the living room. All the furnishings are original.

It was extremely difficult to get a tour date booked. The Carney Island Recreation and Conservation Area, which is part of the Marion County, Florida, Parks and Recreation Department, still takes reservations by phone. You call and get in line, so to speak. They call you back when there is an opening. In our case, it took almost nine months. I could have had a baby in that time! The system may be speeding up by now, so you could possibly get in before the year is out! The tour costs $10 and can be booked by calling 352-671-8560.

Our docent started his “career” by being on the first tour offered by the parks and rec department. He is a gangster junky. When his unfortunate tour guide realized that one of his tourists knew more about Ma Barker than he ever imagined could be known, our docent was hired.

Here’s my version of the tour through photos. Almost all of the furnishings are original. This house is a living museum. We sat on the furniture and put our fingers in the bullet holes. I believe it won’t be long before this place is put on the national historic register, so enjoy it in its relaxed form while you can.

Bob enjoying a rest on the same settee upon which Ma Barker would have sat.

All of the photos on the table (and more) are part of our docent’s personal collection. He told us his wife was happy to have them displayed here.

My friend and fellow blogger, Roxanne, who was my perfect partner in crime that day as she is a huge history buff.

1930s styling! Not bad after a deep cleaning.

original lamp and table

Justice Department picture after their raid, taken on the front porch. They were afraid to go inside the house in case members of the gang were lying in wait. They got the neighbor, Willie Woodberry, a local handyman who did work for Ma, to go in and check out the situation. They gave him a bullet-proof vest and a few bucks. There was nobody left alive inside. Ma and one of her sons were the only ones home and had died in the raid.

A lovely, Florida driveway from the house back to the main part of the park.

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by Bonnie Anderson on May 6, 2024  •  Permalink
Posted in Florida Living
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on May 6, 2024

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2024/05/06/shootout-in-ocklawaha/

When Things Don’t Stop

Sometimes when I’m having trouble shutting my brain down to go to sleep at the end of the day, I remind myself that it’s a good thing that my brain is working. I also question – if I shut it down, will I be able to start it back up? That, of course, sends my brain on rabbit trails of thought as it strives to stay awake and keep working. Does it not know that it continues to work while I sleep? Stupid brain.

The turning on and off of things (not including brains) is such a common-place event in our day-to-day life that we tend not to think much about it. Before the day has gotten into full swing, one has turned on and off several lights, coffee pots, toasters, computers, television sets, and truly I could go on and on.

Then when it’s time to leave the house, we get in the car and turn that on. Hopefully. Everyone has experienced the failure of a car to start now and again. Usually, a battery problem, which is easily remedied, but nonetheless an inconvenience to some degree.

One fine, sunny Saturday, my mother and I got in my car and turned it on without much of a thought that it would not respond to the pushing of the ignition button. I’ve had my little white (90 percent of all SUVs seem to be white) Ford Escape for nine years now, and it’s been very faithful save an inconvenient time when there were four of us with suitcases loaded into it and the battery failed. But I do not hold that against it.

This particular Saturday we ventured out to do some clothing shopping for Mom. Everything was as normal as normal can be. Until we got back into the car. I pressed the ignition button and the dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree. So many warnings that one would think the car could possibly just blow up. Surely, I couldn’t drive it.

Parking assist failure. See dealer. Antilock brake light was displayed. The brake light was on even though no emergency brake was in place. Then there was the light that indicated that either the tires would fail to grip the pavement and slide all over the road, or perhaps those two marks were the letter “z” indicating that the car had gone into a sort of automotive coma. There was also an indicator that the airbag might fail. My GPS system, too, was down.

I decided to test the car in the parking lot, so I drove around pumping the brakes to make sure they responded, which they did. It was a straight shot down SR 436 to my home, so we headed there. Mom could go in and I would figure out what to do – or better still, Bob would when he got home.

The trip home was uneventful except the power steering was tight and all the idiot lights were still on alert. I was relieved when I pulled into our garage. I stopped the car and pushed the ignition button to turn it off. Nothing. The car was happy running. I tried several times but to no avail. I had never heard of this sort of problem. I tried to pop my hatch to get Mom’s walker out, but that would not respond either. I opened the side doors, lowered the seats and dragged her walker out the door. Once Mom was inside, I called Bob.

It is my first impulse to call Bob when something breaks down. He is very mechanically inclined and can fix just about anything, but in this case, he was 45 minutes away playing golf. I did not expect him to come home or have a solution. Nevertheless, I interrupted his round with this strange report.

Obviously, he was unable to help. He asked the expected questions, for instance, did I have my foot on the brake? And, am I sure I pushed the ignition button all the way? I can’t fault him for asking the obvious; this was an unusual situation. That was all he had. That was all I had, too.

I called the dealer, and they told me to bring it down. I figured I might as well since it was running and all. On arrival a very tall service technician met me and sat inside my running car sideways. This guy had to be 6’6” and must not have wanted to bother moving my seat. He leaned down to the brake pedal and pushed it with one hand. His other hand he used to turn the car off. It worked. Just like it’s supposed to.

I looked at him and said, “Do you have any idea how annoying this is?”

He chuckled and went on to turn the car on and off several times with no issues. I said he must have some kind of magic touch or maybe the weird way he used his hand instead of his foot must have triggered a “control, alt, delete” situation and rebooted the whole system. Still, I made an appointment to have her looked at. Thankfully, the next appointment was five weeks out because my car has behaved perfectly ever since.

I, on the other hand, was a tad bit nervous to drive it for the first week or so. I definitely didn’t want to be stranded with my mom or take it far from home, so we used Bob’s car for those circumstances. One morning, I figured the car was fine. I wouldn’t allow it to get in my head, so I decided to use it to take Mom to an appointment.

Thoughtlessly, I walked into our garage with the key fob in my hand and simultaneously pressed the garage door opener and the button to open the car’s hatch to put her walker in. I knew right away that was a bad idea as somehow, I got the hatch jammed into the partially opened garage door and neither would move. This was perhaps the dumbest thing I have done in quite a while, so I brought Bob out to see my accomplishment.

I had already tried to force the hatch closed or open, but it was really jammed. The garage door would not respond either. At this rate, there was a good chance I would never leave the house again.

The redeeming moment came while Bob was looking at the mess I’d made. Suddenly, I figured out how to fix it. I got in the car, started it up (thankfully it started), and pulled forward, leaving the garage door free to move up and down. The hatch had only a small ding in the paint, which really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

It’s been almost two months now and no issues. My take-away: When weird stuff happens, and things don’t stop when you want them to, don’t continue doing the same unsuccessful thing. Try a different braking method. Stand on your head. Try using your left hand. Drive to see a professional. Or keep on keeping on until you run out of gas.

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by Bonnie Anderson on November 2, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on November 2, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/11/02/when-things-dont-stop/

Halloween Hypocrisy

One of the many ways that I’ve probably damaged my kids has to do with Halloween. When I was a kid growing up in Maryland, I liked it quite a lot, unless it was cold, and my mom made me wear a jacket over my costume. I would have rather frozen to death than wear a coat. What was she thinking?

In those days, Halloween involved going through our own neighborhood and knocking on the doors of people we knew. Mrs. Harrington was my favorite as she would give out home-made, hand-decorated cookies. You could not get away with that kind of love in today’s climate. One time as I went through my bounty, I discovered that, like Charlie Brown, I had received a rock – and not the kind of rock that I enjoy today. Unlike him, though, I had plenty of candy. Sometimes it even lasted until Christmas!

Fast forward to having children of my own. By this time, I had become a Christian and was increasingly sensitive to the darkness of Halloween. It seemed the days of mostly cute and fun costumes had shifted to an abundance of costumes and billboards that emphasized evil and scariness. I hated taking our kids out to restaurants and stores where the decorations were scary. I didn’t like subjecting them to that.

When our oldest two were little, we took them trick or treating (one time, as far as I can remember). They donned store-bought costumes and those horrible plastic masks that make your face sweat, and we hit a few houses. It didn’t seem like a big deal, but every year I grew more uncomfortable with it. I didn’t like frightening creatures coming to our front door either. How does one protect their children from all of this darkness? That was our dilemma, and let me tell you, we didn’t handle it particularly well.

Who are those masked children?

We couldn’t take the kids out of the house to avoid the unknown quantities arriving at our front door, because there were so many everywhere. In my head, it was like a zombie apocalypse married Freddy Krueger – a regular nightmare for me. Of course, I may have been a tad over dramatic. I knew that the Bible taught to abstain from all forms of evil, but parts of Halloween were cute – though those parts weren’t as prevalent anymore, plus I wasn’t sure that should matter. So, every year we wrestled in our minds with what to do. One year we even turned on the sprinklers thinking that would keep things quiet, but our neighbor called and told us they were on. She thought it was by accident instead of by design. Sigh.

My best-ever Halloween involved our small group from our church gathering at our house for an evangelistic outreach for our neighborhood. We shoved all our furniture to one side of the house and invited the neighborhood in for a magic show. My dad, who was a magician, came and performed for the kids (and their parents). He had a unique way of weaving the gospel story into his show. Also, that night it rained, so we were packed to the gills.

So, sorry kids. I hope this is the worst way we’ve messed you up. Some of you have pointed out that it was okay for us to take grandchildren around, but you were denied the pleasure. Yep, you are not wrong; that’s inconsistent, too. Though, that’s really on the parents, not the grandparents. We were simply serving while remaining wishy-washy on our Halloween stance.

This was the year that our daughter and her family were briefly living with us while getting ready to move out-of-state. Bob and I had purchased a Hashtag the Bear costume for a church program and Bob put it to use to hang out with the grandkids as they wandered our neighborhood on what may have been the hottest October 31st ever.

I know that most, if not all our kids and their families, like to participate in Halloween trick-or-treating. Even though I have no credibility in this area, I’ll still offer advice to try to keep the kids more focused on Jesus every day and less influenced by the things of this world, including Halloween. And do what your conscience allows. No guilt.

To sum things up: I don’t like Halloween. I was sometimes an inconsistent though well-meaning parent who in a lot of ways was growing right alongside our children. Grandparenting is easier. Now I can buy all the candy we want and get it 70 percent off the day after Halloween. The prices are much less scary.

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by Bonnie Anderson on October 26, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in Faith, Family, grandchildren, Holidays
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on October 26, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/10/26/halloween-hypocrisy/

Retirement is all Well and Good until…

When I was young, I wanted my doctors to be older and wiser. For sure I did not want a young, good-looking male gynecologist. That would have been weird for me in those days of my youth. Now, I want my medical professionals to be young enough to see me through without retiring but a few years removed from medical school. The same goes for my hairdresser except for the med school part.

As a young married woman of 19, I did not know of a female ob/gyn in the field. Now, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a female doctor. See how things have changed! Plus, if you did swing a dead cat, you’d probably be in trouble with PETA, so I think I need a new saying.

As you may have gathered by now, I have recently had two people who have treated me with kindness and professionalism in their respective fields retire. The first was my gyn who has seen me through that lovely time of life which women go through and who was going through it at the same time. I tell you what – that was a match. At least it was until she went the way of so many people our age and retired. This field of medicine is not at the top of my needs list anymore, but nevertheless I am searching for a new practitioner. Sigh. At least this time there are plenty of women doctors from whom to choose.

Finding a new hairdresser after nearly 30 years with the same talented woman is a bit more daunting. No one other than Teya has cut my hair in all that time. Once during COVID I was forced to get my color touch-up from another when Teya had COVID. Bob and I were going to his 50th high school reunion. You don’t want your roots showing at that event – that’s for sure. You either want to be full-on gray or colored – none of that awkward in-between stuff. Having a stranger’s hands in my hair was weird for me. I felt a bit like I was cheating on Teya, but I had no choice (other than go with my roots showing or covering them up with a temporary fix or not going – other than those three things, I had no choice).

I sent this picture to Teya to show her the weird day I was having without her.

So, when it was time to find a new hairdresser, I was more than a little nervous. I asked myself if perhaps now was the time to go gray (now referred to as natural) and let my locks just keep on growing – maybe embrace my inner hippy who seemed to disappear somewhere after having my fourth child. But, alas, vanity said, “No!” I like my “natural” look and will likely continue it as long as it’s in the budget.

Before I found Teya, I had some bad experiences such as a person who was getting ready to cut my hair asking the stylist next to her, “What would you do with this?” I should have run out of there, but I was young. Also, I had often asked myself the same question about my curly hair. I was taken back but too timid to stand up for myself at that point.

I also had been overprocessed from highlights to the point that when I look back at those pictures, I wonder what I was thinking, but I digress. Teya had rescued my abused hair and introduced me to the wonderful, though expensive, world of “products.” She was experienced and not intimidated at all by my thick, curly hair. I think she was happy to perform her magic on me. The before and after can be quite satisfying.

So, when she told me she was retiring and moving away (she is so good that I’m sure several of us clients would have shown up on her doorstep if she hadn’t), I cried. Not only was I losing an amazing hairdresser, but I was losing a friend and a way of life that I enjoyed and in which I found myself quite comfortable.

Comfort. What a beautiful word! One can comfort another in times of difficulties and loss. And one receives comfort in like manner from those in our family and communities, and at times even from the perfect stranger. If there is such a thing as a perfect anything, a stranger who offers you comfort would fill that bill. But once again, I digress.

My roots were beginning to make an appearance and I knew it was time to jump into the pool of hairdressers and find a new one. You might not think it was a struggle, but it was. I like the familiar and I’m not a fan of the unknown. Even though it can bring new joys and friendships, it also might bring a bad haircut.

One morning before church, I spotted my friend’s granddaughter, Kate, who is a hairdresser. I’ve known her since she was born and she has been working for a few years, so she fits two of my qualifications – she would not likely retire before I die, and she has been working for a few years.

I approached her and began my lament. I used so many words; it was ridiculous. I told her my story and I told her my fears. I told her I was concerned that if I went to someone I know and was not happy with my results, I would feel awful not returning. I would probably have to move or something just to spare her the rejection. I could feel myself beginning to tear up. I fought back the tears – I think successfully. I acquired her phone number and said I’d call for an appointment. I’m pretty sure I also scared her to death. I’m surprised she didn’t change her phone number, but she was gracious.

Two weeks later I was sitting in her studio – a trendy, comfortable studio for one. It was so cute and inviting – just like Kate. I had given Kate my “formula” and she went above and beyond by ordering the exact color products that Teya had used. That scored major points with me. Plus, she is ten minutes from my house in Altamonte Springs, Florida.

As I sat down, with my hair literally in a new stylist’s hands, I was nervous, but I think Kate was more. She didn’t really show it, but later as I talked with my friend/her grandmother, she let it slip. I haven’t let her cut my hair yet, so the jury is still out, but if her ability with color and her sweet personality are indicators, I think she may be stuck with me unless she retires and moves away. Poor Kate!

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by Bonnie Anderson on October 19, 2023  •  Permalink
Posted in aging, Stuff I Go Through
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Posted by Bonnie Anderson on October 19, 2023

https://lifeonthelighterside.com/2023/10/19/retirement-is-all-well-and-good-until/

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