That is what co-owner Miranda Innes calls women who show up in at her Moroccan B&B alone. Yet I would not recommend it for the feminine faint of heart. A woman alone in a souk with her own pocketbook in tow throws Moroccan male concepts of where a woman should be into high disarray and makes the politically incorrect American male construction workers look like priests. “Luscious Lips!” “Hello Money!” “Thank you; no thank you; damn...
As I was installing a lightning bolt on this British lad's forehead, a la Harry Potter, his older brother watched carefully, and then signed up for a shooting star on his forehead: Harry Potter and Merlin as relatives! It was indeed a day full of magic. Once a year Paciano offers
Maggione. Opening night, in June. Built 9 centuries ago, between 1150 and 1170, the Castle of the Knights of Malta is impeccably restored, and is the first castle I have seen that I have ever wanted to live in. The cypress trees are ancient and much taller than most you’ll see in Umbria. They have been protected by knights, benefactors and skilled gardeners. You walk into the main courtyard– its a bit older, only 15th century– and immediately smell...
When you share your plans: “I’m going to Italy for two (or three) months!” be prepared to handle the reactions. You’ll find three main reactions. 1.The detractors, who will try to tarnish or take your dream. (For example: “It is way too hot that time of year.” “You really should not go alone.”) 2.The attachers, who will try to make your dream theirs. I had one distant relative offer to stay with me for 2...
It sounds like it should be a simple choice, when the opportunity presents itself, to grab that brass ring. But it isn’t always. I first learned this when my daughter asked for a trip to Europe with me as her graduation present from college, destination: anywhere of my choice. I had never been to Europe, and I had always wanted to go to Ireland. This dream was probably propelled by my great grandmother’s wish to either...
Every Christmas day, in the fondo of Palazzo della Corgna, the terzieri of Castello presents inspirational scenes for the season (called a presepe). It is Castello’s gift of the season to the community. Castello is one of three terzieri’s (a section of the town, with deep historical roots). Each terzieri has its own taverna and meeting place, as well as traditions. For Castello, their green and black flags fly at Christmas to herald the opening of...
Venice, Christmas Eve You leave the grand space of San Marco’s campo, with its four horses and St. Mark’s body, clipped as goods of war, now bringing credentialization to the duomo. Walk along the water’s edge, and you’ll feel this stolen grandeur fade. Four stairs down step the platform closer to the water, where no doubt aqua alta splashes regularly when storms and high waters brew. Keep walking, another block or two.To your left across the...
Castiglione del Lago (PG), Zona Industriale le Pucciarelli. In the middle of an Italian industrial zone, I found myself listening to an Ommagio a Edith Piaf, sipping French wine (George Deboeuf Beaujolais-Villages), nibbling delicious and beautifully rendered pasteries, and chatting with friends from Australia and Great Britain. Manola Rosati was singing, and Eleonora Conti accompanied her on the piano. This presentation of music, wine and food was the gift of owner and master pastry chef Michael Piselli who has created a delightful...
Anyone who is not born in Maine is known as “from away.” No matter how many years you live in Maine, you will always be from away. From away is relative–some folks are more from away than others, but if you are not Maine-born, you are forever from away. I was crossing Front Street in Portland Maine with friends–one a true born and raised Mainer (who had left for Masschusetts, but she was not considered from...
Citta della Pieve, Chiusi, and Paciano (Umbria.) My Uncle Ross always owned a Ford, his whole life. Every three years, he would trade in his Ford Station Wagon, country squire edition (with the “wood” panels) for another newer one. It was his farm and road trip car. He and Aunt Verna would drive it from Pennsylvania to their Florida for their annual migration–snow birds, wisely escaping ice and heating bills. Uncle Ross deeply believed in the...
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