Residense Le Coloniche _ Part I
Residense Le Coloniche, Serravalle Pistoiese, Italy
It requires a bit of aimless wander to see what has changed or stayed the same when I first arrive here. I methodically check to see how the herbs are growing, gently stroking the leaves of lavender and rosemary. The sage, pungent and hearty as ever, could withstand an arctic winter. As I carry the scent of herbs in my hands, I gaze at the garden noticing that it is plentiful this year. I am thrilled as I have the privilege of creating in the cucina with the harvest. The scents and sights take me back to my nonna’s kitchen. I see her plucking and dressing the chicken we just killed for pranzo and can smell the same combination of herbs on my hands. I see her sprinkling the rosemary and garlic on the potatoes and the smell makes me smile and shed a tear.
Arriving at our vacation home at Residense Le Coloniche in Tuscany, there is a sense of belonging that is hard to describe. Our Italian hosts are now like family and are as happy to see us as we are to be there. I like to think that it is because we are a little out of the ordinary. This is my birthplace and I am as at home here as in the United States. My husband, however, is a visitor here and although his love of Tuscany is immense, he cannot feel the tug at the heart strings that I feel when we arrive and when we depart. We bring them the novelty of the U.S. combined with my Italian roots. We bring guests, family, friends and generally create a big melting pot of ethnicity that delights and awakens a little something in all of us.
I have a ritual which consists of my favorite pastime in Italy, grocery shopping. Yes, there is something to be said about buying produce with the dirt still attached to the roots that makes cooking artful and earthy. Shopping for food here makes one realize how simple life should be. Fresh vegetables, fruit, pasta, cheese and bread, a little olive oil and wine, done…. We do not need more than this. A great feast will be made of these simple foods just as life is here, simple and pure.
We opt out of our traditional first night meal of pasta, salad and fresh bread at home due to fatigue. A quick, two-hour nap finds us refreshed enough to head into Montecatini for Pizza at Corsaro Verde. The venue is perfect for people watching and where else can you shop the exclusive shops at 10:00 at night? We order a carafe of “vino di casa.” We easily polish off the entire carafe and start to relax and refresh from our journey. We decide it’s time to walk a little and indulge in our favorite gelato. As I look over at my husband, I see a different face. He is laughing, admiring the shoe stores as we walk, and then I see it. I see the sense of wonder, a look of peaceful simplicity in the uncomplicated entertainment of pizza, wine, and gelato. The energy is different. No agendas, no schedules. People here are not continuously looking for the next best thing. What they have today, right now, will do just fine. I can do this, too but by the time it’s second nature, it’s time to go back to my other home.
At night, the drive back to the residence can be daunting until you have done it 10 or 15 times to perfect driving skills. It is straight up a dirt road “su per le colline” in the hillside and there is also the scariest “curva stretta,” or tight left turn, that can set your hair on edge until you have mastered it. The driver must “cut” the curve at exactly the precise time and position the car perfectly to continue upwards towards the house. The unfortunate result of not accomplishing this is that the car remains at a precarious incline at which point the driver must jockey back and forth with his manual transmission to position himself to complete the turn. To make matters worse, there is also the possibility of oncoming traffic from three different directions. But no worries, everyone figures it out eventually. My husband has made this his personal quest lending his experience and advice to our friends with exact calculations of how to do this. He is intense about driving here; he loves it. He aspires to be known as the master of the “Curva Stretta.” He doesn’t know this, but I can still see the small droplet of perspiration on his forehead and the look of determination as we approach it.
I awaken to roosters saying good morning. The birds have established a choir outside our open bedroom window. No one is awake except for me. I try to reason with my mind - stay in bed, sleep, you are on vacation - but I cannot. I need to see the Tuscan hills before anyone else. Morning is the purest time of the day when everything emanates of a new beginning. Our first morning threatens rain so I faithfully climb the hill to see the baby goats and say “ciao.” I stroll over to the grape pergola and notice it is beginning to become heavy with fruit. I sit a while as it serves as a wonderful umbrella from the sprinkles of “pioggia.” I see Mario and wave an enthusiastic hello, yelling out “buon giorno, Mario,” thinking I might find a coffee partner. But his morning chores call him back to work. I see Lorenzo, the groundskeeper, and he welcomes me back. He tells me I am up and about too early for a vacation. I wonder if he sees the same beauty that I see in this place, as he is born here and maybe takes it for granted. The poppies are in bloom and are sprinkled across the land in patches everywhere the eye can see. I look closely and see a bee gently landing from one to another. Poppies are so very delicate, so I carefully pick two of them and protect them from the rain. They will look wonderful with my fresh herb centerpiece.
Our first guests arrived yesterday, and we are preparing for our day in Montecatini Alto, the old ancient village where the Borgheses and Napolean visited to take part in its purifying, healing waters. The road itself spirals around the mountain until your reach the summit and the village of Alto. If one is interested in arriving another way, the Funiculare slowly ascends the side of the hill providing a wonderful view of the mountainside and city below. You can successfully see Montecatini Alto in two hours but believe me when I tell you, you will return. The tranquility of the peaceful village will open its arms and cradle you for as long as you like. The main piazza is surrounded by outdoor cafés and restaurants, one more inviting than the next. However, make sure you have seen all you want to see before sitting down for a meal as once you have eaten, the magic takes over and you won’t want to leave. Our guest tells us that if he could, he would escape to Alto every day as it calms the mind and soul. We force ourselves to get up and be on our way back to Le Coloniche as we have an afternoon of sunbathing and swimming planned before the evening plans are underway.
I mean to quickly throw some clothes in the washing machine when I notice a washboard and soap in the huge cement washing tub that is being filled by cold mountain water. I am instantly transported to my nonna’s house where wash tubs were the only way to do laundry. I can smell the lye in the big yellow block of soap and decide this is how I’m doing laundry today. I can feel my knuckles against the washboard as I wash each item but it’s so worth it as I love the way the clothes smell once they are dried on the outdoor clothes lines.
More to come…