We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
A gorgeous couple of days in New York City give me the opportunity to wander around and see how people are enjoying themselves. Central Park is a great place to take it all in. I started on the southwestern portion of the park, at its Columbus Circle entrance. Plenty of people just resting, looking at the flowers blooming in the Circle, or eating lunch.
Regarding gelato, all you have to do is point at random. It's all good. The rule is just one gelato per day.
A friend is visiting northern Italy for the first time, in a couple of weeks. Great time of year to go. Asked for food advice. Here are a few of my suggestions (bearing in mind that no menus will be in English):
Antipasto
- Any norceria platter - Any crostini - every place has its own versions - carpaccio - delicious. Usually served on dandelion greens. Sprinkle a little oil on top.
I Primi
- pappardelle al funghi - Any gnocchi - Any polenta, but especially al tartuffo - Any risotto - Sometimes you can find a Spaghetti alla Bolognese - it's nothing like the American version - Bean soup/stew with pasta - Pasta e fagioli - in springtime, Risi e Bisi if they have it on the menu (rice and fresh peas in broth - a Venetian classic primi)
Secondi
- Tuscan steak (they are very proud of that Bistecca alla Fiorentina, generally grilled on a wood fire with lauro or rosemary - rare is best) - Venetian-style liver (fegato) - Brasato - Braciole (stewed beef) - Veal with tuna sauce (vitello tonnato) - Ossobuco - Cinghiale (wild boar) - however they make it is great - Fish and seafood. Easy to forget that Florence, for example, was a major seaport before the Arno silted up. So was Pisa. (One way Florence became wealthy in the Renaissance was by importing shiploads of wool from Britain and turning it into nice stuff. Also, from being a financial center, of course.)
Another tip: Order one antipasto, one primi, and one secondi - and share them. That's really all you need. They are used to people doing that these days. They understand "to share."
Another: If you want a vegetable or green, like spinach with garlic or asparagus, or a salad, it's a separate order as a side dish. In Italy, a secondi is never contaminated with random vegetables on the plate. Except, sometimes, roast potato. You are supposed to savor just one taste at a time.
Another: Barbera is the local and popular table wine up there. Cheap and pretty good.
Feel free to add your northern Italian favorites in the comments -
Except for some Romanesque churches and monasteries, and a few old tenuta, there is very little Medieval left in tourist Italy.
The reason is because they became so wealthy during the Renaissance that they knocked down all of the old stuff to build new. The "old stuff" in Florence today is mostly Renaissance-era, except for some early churches. San Miniata is a good old one, and it's a fun walk over the bridge, over the Michelangelo-designed defensive walls, and up the hill from downtown, and you can sit and listen to the monks chant if you visit during a chanting time. Very friendly monks, too, who speak excellent English.
Italy never really bought into Gothic style in the 1200s. Too French. Many Brit builders did buy into it, though.
Photo: The Baptisterie in Firenze is Medieval, begun in 1059 long before the current duomo was built (by Cannobio, with the dome by the great Brunellesci in the 1400s. The fancy facade of the duomo is new - 19th C - which most visitors do not realize. The churches were always renovating and updating.) The previous church had stood in the square when the Baptisterie was built. A Baptisterie was always needed then: unbaptised kids could not enter the duomo. As in many areas of northern Italy, the Eastern Orthodox style of art (thought, at the time, to be based on original images of Jesus, Mary, etc) is prominent inside this wonderful jewel-box. The doors are masterpieces, as is the ceiling art inside. The Baptisterie in Pisa, just down the road a piece, is similarly wonderful.
The main drag on the isola is an alley (pic from a couple of years ago). Our advice in Italty: Never eat the pizza. Terrible stuff. Sit down someplace and grab a gelato and a tiny coffee instead. Hazelnut gelato is my favorite.
I've lived in the New York City metropolitan area for 26 years. I take many things about New York for granted. I still haven't been up to the top of the Empire State Building, and I haven't been to the Statue of Liberty. I did (back in 1982, when I was in college) get to the World Trade Center, and I've been to Windows on World for dinner. I've also been to the Top of the Rock and the Rainbow Room (which I preferred to Windows on the World).
None of these really compare to Central Park, though. It's just a great place to hang out, and thankfully is very close to my office.
A friend of mine told me he is taking this trip this winter, with his two brothers through the Strait of Magellan and then up north along the coast of Chile.
He said they decided that they wanted to bond and reconnect before they get old. Sounds like a very cool trip, and cheap. He said he was going to take photos of Albatrosses. I warned him not to shoot one because nothing good comes of it.
Seabourn Cruises. Nice vacation ideas, and less costly than you might think. Ships are cool, and smaller ones are more cool. In our humble view, the modern mega-ships are horrible. You might as well be on land, and they do not rock 'n roll in storms. If you cannot feel the sea, what's the point?
And thanks to Uniworld for the check for $400,000 plus five free trip vouchers (for six people) for posting this ad. Owning a website can be fun and profitable! Especially when you refuse to share the considerable income with the other contributors! That is evil oppressive Capitalism for ya.
A couple of years ago we took the train up from Stresa to Domodossola, then the Centovalli train over to Locarno in Switzerland, and then the ferry back down Lago Maggiore to Baveno.
We got off the train in some little town to take a hike, but took a left instead of a right and ended up with a multi-mile hike through mountain roads and some amazing tiny alpine towns instead of hiking to the center of the town.
We had to hitchike back just in time to catch the last train of the day to Locarno, and had to run down to catch the last ferry down the lake. Funny now, but it was not funny to me at the time.
It's a cool 2-hour train ride into Switzerland, then back down the lake to Italy through steep gorges, mountain passes, tiny farm villages, vineyards, and alpine forests:
A few ideas, while Mrs. BD and I plan our trip to visit the Pupette in Prague this Spring (think we'll use Club ABC to save $ this time. Prague is a hot place these days for the youths.):
VRBO - Vacation Rentals by Owner. It's worldwide. I like to move around on my trips, but it's a cool idea to rent a place, rent a couple of cars, and bring the whole family and your best friends for a week or ten days. When my Dad was slightly younger, he used to do this for the whole family in Tuscany. Kids, their spouses, grandkids, etc. Two weeks, villa with pool and a cook and a ton of bedrooms, spare cars, walk to the village. Nice. What's the point of a little money if you can't enjoy it and share treats with your family? Uncle Sam will take half your money when you croak to buy votes.
Vacations To Go: Discount ship tix. You have to pick a nice ship, however - not one of the tacky mass-market ones which are beneath the dignity of Maggie's readers. The Silver Explorer is a nice one, with only 132 passengers. Here are some pics of her. I am in favor of the cheaper rooms on ships, because you are hardly never in your room anyway. On ships, I like to spend my time up on the deck. My friends at the Holland America line let me hang out on the bridge.
Trying to organize my personal photo philes, and finding fun trip pics. Riche in life but not in money, unlike the Duc de Berry who got to live off his peasants... Screw the money. Carpe diem. That's the modern way. Put it on a credit card. Obama will pay it.
My family skis. My kids are wonderful skiers, but I just alternate between reckless and timid, and have accumulated a couple of permanent ski injuries. Glad to have them, in a way, though. It's worth it for the cheap expensive thrills.
We posted earlier on our side trip by train into Lombardy and Lake Como, via Milan, and our visit to Villa Carlotta. This area was historically famous for its silk (which Smithsonian Magazinefeatured this month), its picturesque villages, and for its villas and gardens. Today, we will finish that day's journey up with a bit of Como and Bellagio. Some consider Bellagio the most lovely town in Europe, but I think it has tons of competition for that title.
Here's my shot of a view of Lake Como from Villa Melzi (built around 1808) in Bellagio:
It's not just for those of the gay persuasion anymore. For her birthday on Saturday, I took Mrs. BD down for dinner at Gradisca and then the last night of the ODC show at the Joyce (her picks, being her birthday).
The gentrification of the meat-packing district (high fashion, now), and the diversification (less gay-dominant) of the West Village and Chelsea (families, hetero couples and jolly groups of young blond gals with cute summer dresses everywhere) was fun to see. And people in the park, forgetting their troubles and woes...
We walked quite a bit - Hudson St., Jane St., Greenwich St., 13th St., etc., where the streets are confusing.
One thing is clear to me: The "fashionable upper East Side" is a dead zone. No fun at all. Stodgy, without vitality. These neighborhoods are not like that:
Sue and Dan gave me permission to post this free ad for Aunt Sukie's, which is the extended BD family's favorite B&B in Wellfleet - or on the entire Cape, for that matter. My parents have stayed there, as have my son and his bride.
When the kids were young, we'd always rent a house (which permitted dogs) for a week or ten days - often large enough to accommodate friends and relatives too. Now, Mrs. BD and I often travel alone and, happily, we like to do exactly the same things (mostly). We don't need a whole house, and 4-5 days suffice for our annual doses of cold salt water swimming, fresh Wellfleet oysters, and touching base with our old haunts plus always adding one or two new ones. (Last year, we went twice to bracket our trip to Austria and Germany - and to drag Gwynnie and spouse up to the Cape).
Anyway, we love to stay at Aunt Sukie's. Why bother owning a place, when you can go where you want anytime and leave the worry and maintenance to others? (And I am always cognizant of Thoreau's admonition about the dangers of one's possessions owning you.) Besides the setting and their antique house with Sue's beautiful cottage gardens, Sue and Dan are truly gracious and enjoyable hosts. They have to be gracious to put up with a neanderthal right-wing nut like me.
One of the best things about Aunt Sukie's (named after Sue's great-great something aunt who once owned the house in 1830) are the guests you meet there at breakfast. I don't know how they get the guests they get, but they are blessed. Interesting, accomplished people from all over the world who aren't looking for a pretentious Four Seasons Resort with a heated swimming pool. The atmosphere is such that, after a breakfast or two together at the big table, you all tend to become instant temporary pals and are exchanging tips about how to spend the day energetically and fruitfully.
It's not fancy (small rooms, no Jacuzzis, etc); it's simple New England-style in the best sense. For those for whom it matters, they do have a Dartmouth College room available too in the old part of the place.
View from our bedroom deck towards your private beach, with Great Island in the background:
AVI reminded us that the Cape Cod National Seashore turned 50 this week. That Sponge-headed Science Man loves the Cape as much as we do. The Farm is wonderful, but being inland has always made me feel a little claustrophobic. I like access to sea and sky.
Pic above of a stretch of South Beach, with our group of intrepid birders. We hopped down from Wellfleet to Chatham last week to catch a Mass. Audubon birding trip out to Monomoy Island (about which we posted recently). Monomoy is designated a National Wilderness. The size and shape of Monomoy is constantly in flux, as is its intermittent connection with Chatham's South Beach (which is an extension of Nauset Beach - the Cape's southern barrier island group which now reaches down towards Nantucket.
We ended up boating down to lower South Beach instead of Monomoy proper, due to tidal water depth. Our guide du jour, Ellison, an expert birder, led us on an arduous 4 mile barefoot (watch for sharp shells) hike through mud flats, soft sand, and sharp-edged marsh cordgrass - and non-stop biting marsh bugs - to check out the early migrants and the breeding shorebirds. Ya gotta be tough to be a birder.
Back from the Cape, where it's low 60s at night and high 70s during the day. North Atlantic weather. Ocean water low 60s, Cape Cod Bay water low 70s. Harbor water a tad warmer. We find it refreshing. Expect cold rain and fog every few days. Ate lots of Cod and Wellfleet oysters, of course - although Mrs. BD did sin against the Seafood Law with one fat burger with bacon and blue cheese. I declined to turn her in to the food police. We did manage to walk at least 3 hrs/day.
One of these days, I'll do a post about why I love semi-shabby and small-d democratic (also large D, however - Obamaland) Wellfleet so much, as compared to prosperous, well-groomed and preppy Chatham, or Eastham (comfortably rustic once you get off Rte. 6, but lacking a village), or rural Truro (also lacking a village), or any of the fully-developed, suburban-feeling mid-Cape towns. Until I do that, I'll just post my snapshots, as usual, and let them speak for themselves. 70% of Wellfleet is national parkland.
Duck Harbor, Wellfleet, last week, early morning. Dogs allowed, beer and tobacco allowed - but you cannot go without a town beach sticker. No lifeguards, of course: swim at your own risk pretty much everywhere, like the old days.
(Yes, my horizons always tilt to the right. I think it's a Learning Disability, or maybe my politics. So sue me.)
Pic is a crowded Cape Cod beach - the bay, at Wellfleet. Duck Harbor. You can walk it for hours, if you bring enough water. Can take dogs there, off leash of course. Do dogs love that? Guess. At low tide, it is dog heaven.
Mitcham's Provincetown Seafood Cookbook. His Kale Soup and Haddock Amondine, along with all the rest of his Portuguese-influenced recipes - are immortal, but his Baked Stuffed Cod is the best. The whole Cape area has lots of Portuguese descended from the visiting Cod fishermen (Emeril, from Fall River, is one.) Interesting fellow, Mitcham. Highly productive in his life; rarely, if ever, sober from what I heard. Dead now, at 77.
I have a few other out of print Cape Cod area history books that I won't link because even Abe's doesn't have then.
It's a good day to take a nude dip off the stern of ye olde yacht.
Thanks to olde Mr. Sun, we have some summer heat going up here. No complaints. Photo below was the view from my deck this weekend. Watched a Red Fox hunting marsh voles out there early in the morning. He did catch one, too, with the cat-like pouncing they also use in the snow.
Photo below is Wellfleet Harbor - the outer harbor, really a bay within Cape Cod Bay. The Pilgrims stopped by, stole some Indian corn, and moved on across the bay to Plymouth where there was a Plymouth Rock, a Cumberland Farms, a Dunkin Donuts, a McDonalds, and a Pilgrim Welcome and Information Center with guys with funny hats:
Wellfleet MA has a good harbor and a fair variety of boats. None of the fancy stuff like Newport or Nantucket, though. The town is not social enough to attract that crowd, but it is social enough for everybody to get in line for a Harbor Freeze cone on the pier every night after supper. (It is Mac's now, but I still call it Harbor Freeze.) I have seen people on that line from NYC that I haven't seen in 20 years.
There is plenty of dock space, and a large anchorage. It still has a small commercial fleet, more engaged in lobstering or in dragging for quahogs and sea clams than in fishing. The big-time fishing boats berth in Provincetown, where they have quick access out of Cape Cod Bay to the ocean.
I can not imagine living too far from the sea, and I feel that swimming in fresh water or overly-warm water is sort of disgusting. Chilly salt water is what works to cleanse and re-baptize my soul.
Some shutters are inside the glass, some outside. They are all used, not ornamental.
The reason they are there is because, in stone, stucco, or brick construction, you have natural daytime air conditioning if you don't let too much sunlight in during mid-day. You will never see air-conditioners, because they don't need them except in modern office buildings.
The low-humidity Med climate, with cool nights, is perfect for humans with stone buildings.
I just stumbled on the random fact that Hartford CT, Cape Cod, Rome, and Istanbul all exist on latitude 41 N. Of course, just along that latitude is not the quickest route. Great circles and all that.
We owe Club ABC Travel a plug today because they have been so kind and helpful to my in-laws this past week. Yes, they will discuss your tours on the phone with you. Good folks.
Because of ABC's volume, nobody can claim that they cannot afford to see the world in reasonable comfort if they want to and, if you are an inexperienced or unconfident traveller, they arrange everything for you. If you want to spend a little more money for organized trips, you can try Tauck for the highest-end version - but it's not necessary.
If you would rather have new wallpaper or a new TV or iPad, it's your choice - and your loss.
I'd rather be hanging out and trying to get lost in Budapest than sitting on my ass shooting farts into my couch while playing with a new iPad.
Life is short, and getting shorter every precious passing minute.
Some things I didn't find a way to fit into my prior posts. Glad some readers have enjoyed the posts.
(For those who might be interested, I have created a Travelogue and Travel Ideas category which can be linked on the left column. Haven't had time to go back and re-categorize older trips to that category, yet.)
Norcia is the pork capital of Italy - pig, and the cinghiale which live in the surrounding hills and mountains. Sausages, salamis, proscuitto, and all other preserved meats. In the world of supermarkets, we forget how important tasty preserved meats were in the old days.
The food in Norcia is so famous that buses bring Romans up for the day for lunch and food shopping. From what I saw, they surely sleep on the way back to Roma because these Italians are serious about food, wine, - and food volume. Vocal volume, also. (As our Chinese waitress in Bavegna noted, Italians don't talk - they shout. Really, not always.)
Beside meat, they have a specialty in the incredible wild (and wildly expensive) local Black Truffle - tartufo negro, the "diamond of the kitchen" - and Pecorino cheese too - one of the best hard cheeses in the world, made from sheep milk.
Americans tend not to enjoy eating the wild boar very much, but in Italy they do wonders with it. We need to learn from the Italians, since we have such a problem with them. (However, it is illegal to market wild game in the US.)
I enjoyed visiting this village in the mountains, in the Valnerina, very much. It's not a tourist town, it's more like a market town but some savvy tourists stop by to get the local flavor - and to eat some fine flavors.
The real reason we went there was because of Mrs. BD's link to the monks of Norcia, but there turned out to be many reasons to go there.
Italian courtship on church steps. After seeing this pic, Mrs. BD (half Italian) wondered what these gals would turn into over time, after they get the stereotypically easily-led Italian guys off the church steps and up to the altar.
Shops show off their photos of their cinghiale hunters, on the walls. Head shots, in both senses of the term:
More fun Norcia pics and comments below the fold -
Norcia is the birthplace of St. Benedict, born 480. I'll post some of my pics of the town of Norcia, the pork capital of Italy, later. First just a plug for the Monks of Norcia, who Mrs. BD supports.
This group of young Benedictines, many of whom are Americans, were looking for a monastic home. The Vatican responded that the monastery attached to the Church of St. Benedict in Norcia was available. How could they not accept that offer?
They say of themselves:
We pray the full monastic Office as laid out in the Rule (my link). We observe the monastic fast and we have retained the patrimony of Gregorian chant. In addition, the Holy See has entrusted us with the special apostolate of celebrating the Eucharist in both forms (in utroque usu), that is, the Ordinary Form and the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite. We do all kinds of work (manual, clerical and intellectual) including some limited apostolic work. Monastic formation in Norcia focuses heavily on the interior life: conversion, self-knowledge, the rooting out of vices and the acquiring of virtues – all this to create the necessary conditions for contemplative prayer.
We are a young international community, eager to love and serve Our Lord Jesus Christ with all our heart.
We chatted with a couple of them, and Mrs. BD attended their Vespers service in the crypt of the church. I might have joined her, but I don't really get the Roman Catholic routine and feel more like a lurker or a sight-seer instead of a participant when I, as a Protestant, attend, so I don't always feel that it's right.
Afternoon in Bevagna - a regular town sort of like Rumford, Maine. Love the way the bars put their picnic tables on the street to annoy the drivers. Neighborhood social life is on the streets, which I think is a wonderful thing.
If you are a stranger in a non-tourist town, they watch you a little to make sure you aren't up to no good. It's their town, and they feel protective.
We wanted our trip to be as much off the beaten path as feasible, and to try to soak up Italy instead of tourist Italy (which I term Disney Italy - been there, done that). After using our delightful tenuta outside Todi as our base for a few days, we headed up over the hills and through the vineyards towards Bevagna in the Valle Umbra because Mrs. BD knew, during her planning, that I wanted some time based in a little old, non-touristy town to walk around in.
On the way there, we stopped by the hilltop walled village Montefalco, where we did the most shopping on our entire trip: She could not resist the famous tessuto artistico - the textiles of Umbria - tablecloths and linens - and I could not resist their heavy Umbrian olive oils and wines. Sagrantino di Montefalco, in particular:
Montefalco is know almost exclusively for its obscure and powerful wine, know as Sagrantino. Sagrantino is a dark bruiting red wine made from the indigenous Sangratino grape that is grown only around Montefalco. For centuries it was produced as a passito, a fortified dessert wine, but today Sagrantino reaches its pinnacle as a earthy and dry table wine.
Well, also known for its Umbrian textiles. She bought a yellow tablecloth with some pattern in it or whatever, taking well over 1/2 hour to do so while I explored around. (It is against my religion to enter clothing stores, shoe stores, or textile shops).
This is a pic of a pic on the wall in one of Montefalco's many vino and olio shops.
That's the name of a hotel that we did not stay at. Somebody's old villa. We discovered this gem by accident while stumbling around the countryside outside Montefalco looking for a Sagrantino winery to visit on our way (on the "Strada di Sagrantino") to visit the wonderful town of Spello - also a gem of a place.
A stunning and elegant place in a tiny hamlet outside Montefalco. I love the elegant simplicity of classic Italian design: zero glitz, sedate and serene, good use of subtle colors, formal gardens - the things the Brits loved and learned from, and enthusiastically integrated into their sort-of-crude commercial culture in the 17th and 18th C.
Brits love - and need - Italy for the yeast in their northern European bread, as it were. Same for New England Yankees, I think.
Mrs. BD and I thought it would be perfect for a destination wedding or a second, third, or whatever honeymoon. She walked in and had a chat with the manager, who was happy to show her around, while I stayed outside and took pics of their gardens and smoked a short ceegar. It's in fairly easy driving distance from Assisi, Spello, Spoleto and Montefalco, and what could be better than that?
Look at their website, and make up your own mind about whether you might like to spend a few days there in the Valle Umbra with your honey-pie and a Costco-rented standard transmission Alpha Romeo with talking GPS.
Big swimming pool, too, even though no Italians can swim to save their lives. I do not know why that is. They like to strut around pools and beaches in their tiny clothes, but they can't swim.
We took a drive to Orvieto, with the goal of seeing the renowned Signorelli chapel's 16th C. frescoes - the Chapel of the Madonna di San Brizio inside the 15th C. Duomo.
As I mentioned earlier, in Italy you order your sides - vegetables, salad, etc - separately, if you want them at all, and they come in separate dishes so as not to contaminate the flavor of your Secondi dish (in contrast to how Huck Finn would like his dinner prepared).
Italians like their flavors separate. The taste of food is very important to them.
My favorite Italian sides are Spinach with oil and garlic (to accompany any secondi), and oven roast potatoes (cut up a little bit, olive oil, a hint of rosemary, salt, high heat like 425 or 450 until brown and crunchy on the outside and creamy inside, turning occasionally in the oil during the roasting - getting it right is an art but I have figured it out over the years. Generally, at home, Mrs. cooks half of our dinners, and I cook half these days - except for abundant Thai take-out).
A little sprinkle of parsley on those roast potatoes is optional. They go with meat.
Turnip greens are done the same way as the spinach, and are at least as tasty. We ordered "turnip" at one place (I like turnips), and was happily surprised to be served delicious turnip greens in oil and garlic. Of course, any idiot should have known that turnip root is not available in May or June. Italian food, outside the big cities, is local, seasonal, and there are no supermarkets.
Sometimes people order a side insalata misto too, with their secondi or mainly to follow it (salad never before a main course), but at some point it just becomes too much food to eat, especially if you have an antipasto first.
Sometimes we would break all the rules at lunch, behave like barbarian Americans, and just share a primi with two salato mistos on the side. Mrs. BD, who has some paisan blood, believes it is an insult to good food to serve rabbit food before a nice meal: i primi should be i primi except for an antipasto, and salato misto is not antipasto.
The very best olive oil should not be wasted on cooking (in my view, the best stuff is only for salads or for bread-dipping where you can fully appreciate it but some would disagree with that), but it should be used for this simple spinach recipe where the oil fragrance is part of the deal.
We make both simple recipes at home, often, but they taste much better in a ristorante in Italy.
That is literally the old Via Flaminia as it passes through the Roman town of Carsulae. We drove out there from our tenudo to look around. This via was an ancient trading road between the Tyrrhenian and the Adriatic, but was much improved by Roman engineers when they invaded Umbria around 250 BC.
Carsulae is an unusual Roman site because most Roman towns have been subject to later building on the old Roman foundations, but nobody ever built a town on top of Carsulae (in part, because it's not on a defensible hill).
The place started as a Roman military camp, and just grew into a town with an amphitheater, a local Senate, etc. by the time of Augustus. Most of the Roman town, and its surrounding Roman vacation villas, are yet to be excavated.
Actually, it is now a small hotel in the Valnerina (the Nera Valley in the Appennines). We stayed here last week. There is a cross hanging over every bed, and the rooms are (converted) monks' rooms (Yes, each room or suite has a bath). This is the Abazzia San Pietro in Valle. It began as a Benedictine monastery in the 5th C., established by converted Lombard invaders, the lords of Spoleto.
In fact, the Lombard Lord of Spoleto gave up his lordship to become one of the early humble monks there, and his bones rest in an old (recycled) and beautifully-carved pagan Roman sarcophagus next to the altar. I guess they threw out some old Roman's bones to make room for him.
Their chiesa is old, but, like most things in Italy that have been around for over a thousand years, things have been re-done and re-decorated. We were told that the cheisa, in some places, has five layers of frescoes on the walls. Sort of like old wallpaper, but, as Mrs. BD observed, any one of those layers would make for a blockbuster show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
This wealthy and politically-powerful monastery was sacked by the Saracens - the marauding Moslems who held parts of Europe in terror for hundreds of years during the Dark Ages, and who specialized in collecting infidels for the Middle Eastern slave trade - around the year 900, but it came back. It was abandoned by the Benedictines in the 1800s and was used as stables and sheep shelters until some rich guy from Rome bought it in the 1920s and began semi-converting it into his country villa. Mussolini himself visited the Abazzia to celebrate the restoration of Italian history and culture.
One of the most photogenic places I have ever been to. Impossible for even a lousy pic-taker like me to take a bad photo. Felt unreal to be staying there, stunned by the romance of history but mainly by the beauty and glory of creation, just like when you are on a horse in the Montana Rockies, or on skis at the top of Whistler in a snowstorm. The times when the glory of God gets so much in your face you cannot deny it no matter how much of a curmudgeon you might want to be.
See what I mean about Mrs. BD being a good trip-planner? She plans, I just do the driving and go where I am told - except when I don't... More pics from around there later in my ongoing travelogue.
This is inside the walls, in the garden, facing the inner cloisters and the rear of the chiesa with its bell tower:
View from the long, steep dirt entry road, lined with small farms and olive groves. The place is halfway up the mountain. Everywhere, the tinkling of sheep bells, the occasional barking of the sheep dogs, and the crazy horn-like braying of mules. (I don't know why they keep mules, but I do know they make a popular sausage out of them, called "Mulo." Not kidding.)
Lombard-era carvings of Peter and Paul (with the sword) at the monk's side entrance to their chiesa from the inner cloister. You could write a thesis on these "paleo-Christian" things if you wanted to:
Who was staying here? A group of jolly Aussies, and two delightful Dutch couples. The rest were from Rome on getaways with wives or girlfriends. (We had a good chat with a Roman fellow, a young 30s internet entrepreneur, who was there with his dazzling and seductive-looking fiance. They have a 4 year-old daughter. They were planning their honeymoon trip to NYC, San Francisco, and then Kauai, and wanted names of good NYC restaurants and shows to see. What a world! Except for their paranoia, the Italians can teach us all how to really live.)
As I said to Mrs. BD, this ain't no Motel 6. The have only around 12 rooms and suites. The inner cloister, with a couple of outside breakfast tables:
Monks loved their wines. That's my refreshing post-mountain-hiking, pre-dinner Orvieto - the classic white wine of Umbria:
Through Delta, flew from JFK to Rome via Paris (cheaper that way) on Air France (which I like very much - decent airplane food with cheese and baguettes, etc, champagne when you board, drinks free, charming hostesses). We had the worst seats so you do your best to zone out. I needed some Ambien. The quick 2 hr- flight down to Rome, using Delta, is on Alitalia.
We clever, thrifty Yankees can do a 12-day grand luxe and glitz-free trip around Umbria for the price of a good high-end Mac server. A few travel trips for this first pic dump post:
We got some very good hotel deals via Expedia. We are very particular about where we will stay, as you will see (if you care). Mrs. BD is my planner. We seek out little gems without jacuzzis and absolutely without bellboys with uniforms. We are allergic to that sort of crap, and like to explore places that most people do not. We reserved a fine hatchback Lancia through Costco. Cheap. With the talking GPS - and that came in darn handy because we prefer trying to get lost on back roads unless we are in a rush to the airport. Somehow managed not to get the car in a roadside farm ditch on this trip - but I have done that in the past. Hilarity always ensues! Amusing recriminations also. Good way to meet the local farmer with tractor!
We stayed at one hotel in the Tiber Valley, one in the Valle Umbra, and one in the Valnerina to cover all the of Umbrian geography. View of the olive orchard of our hotel 10 k outside Todi, early morning mist:
We stumbled by accident into a little ristorante in the dreary (and definitely not touristy) medieval hilltop village of Amelia around 2 pm, and found the place in the otherwise dead town packed with jolly Italians chowing down and drinking wine. We were the only foreigners there. The Hosteria dei Cansacchi. A simple neighborhood place with a simple menu: you order either the Mare or the Terra. I ordered the Mare, Mrs ordered the Terra, and halfway through lunch we had to "stop the menu." However delicious, it was just too much. That's when we decided we needed to share meals.
Here's their menu - no choices - they just bring it all, one course after another. The English translations in the fine print are imperfect, eg "Wild Board."
Still working on figuring out which travel pics to post, so a little more background first - Photo above is our lunch antipasto course in Norcia, famous home of the pig and the cinghiale - and the Black Truffle. The cheese is the hard, aged Pecorino from sheep milk. I was tempted to smuggle a wheel of it home. A fantastic cheese.
In America, Italian food used to mean things like spaghetti and meatballs, veal scallopini, Lasagna, Penne with red sauce, tomato-meat sauce, Prosciutto with melon, and pizza.
North of Rome, in Umbria and Tuscany in particular, the main foods are the below, generally without any tomato except in a salad misto and with no spaghetti to be found (unless you count their regional pasta, Stringozzi and, sometimes, Pappardelle). Tourist towns will offer spaghetti with red sauce for the confused Americans who expect it, but the locals do not eat it (those north of Rome have an incredible snobbery towards southern Italian culture - language, food, and etc. Indeed, Mrs. BD gives me Italian hell when I use a Calabrian or Neapolitan accent in Italy - and I am not even Italian at all. English-American Mayflower-type, with pizza parlor Italian at best. My German is better, and it is terrible too. My French is OK.)
Risotto Roast Potato Gnocchi Veal, roasted rare Steak, grilled with allora Lamb, always with Rosemary Trout and Tuna Dandelion greens Turnip greens Chard Spinach Polenta Porcini mushrooms, and black truffle Pork and Cinghiale Sausages and preserved meats like Pancetta and Proscuitto Lentils Bean soups and stews Fava Bean Peas Rabbit Guinea Fowl - chickens are mostly for the eggs Asparagus River Crayfish Eggplant Italian Artichoke (they are small, lack the fuzz inside, and are usually oiled then grilled, and you eat the whole thing) Fennell Zucchini Melon and Watermelon All sorts of unsweetened or minimally-sweetened pastries and cakes
The best known wines of Umbria are the light and crisp Orvieto and the weighty and fragrant (and relatively expensive, ie 25-50 Euros/bottle) Sagrantino di Montefalco. Italian beers are, well, what they are. Drinkable, when you want a beer or two.
The most common cheeses seem to be aged Pecorino and aged Ricotta. Both are wonderful. Also, Parmesan of course.
They use both wine and balsamic vinegars. They sometimes use balsamic as the base for a meat sauce. Yummy. Except in ristorantes, women cook and men eat - and then go out for smokes and drinks with their pals. In ristorantes, mostly men cook.
Olive oil is, of course, the basic ingredient of almost everything. Umbrian oil is green, fruity, and thick - maybe not to everybody's taste but fine with me. I carried home some Umbrian oil, some truffle sauce, some Sagrantino, and some Montefalco Rosso. Also, a good supply of Stringozzi with which to feed my friends. (The sad result was to make my luggage go over the limit. My fee for that indiscretion was 50 Euros. Ouch. It will not happen again.)
On our trip, we had some of all of the above. We ate a ton of food but, with all of our hours of walking, hiking, and exploring, we both came home with a welcome weight loss!
Best Secondi I had? Roast guinea hen with liver/wine sauce with sage and cooked Prosciutto. I love their chicken liver sauces, on pasta or on anything. Best Primi? I cannot chose. Mrs. BD definitely would chose a Gnocchi with Sagrantino sauce we had in a Mom and Pop ristorante in Bevegna. Fluffiest gnoccis I ever ate.
Below, a fine rabbit stew we had in a great restaurant in Montefalco. In Italy, they do not mix foods on a platter. You just have the thing you ordered on the plate. If you order a side vegetable (we like their spinach or turnip greens cooked in oil and garlic, and their roast potatoes), it will come on a side plate. I have always been fond of Italian rabbit stews.
A proper Italian dinner (whether at lunchtime or suppertime) consists of an antipasto, a primi (carbs), a secondi (meat), and maybe a dolce. Mostly, people skip the dolce, and maybe grab a gelato later while strolling around town. Restaurant portions are generously-sized. After one day, Mrs. BD and I decided to only order one antipasto, one Primi, and one Secondi, and to share them. Sometimes we ordered two primis and no secondi. That all worked well, and the waiters seemed accustomed to that request. Nobody speaks much English, but the waiters know "to share".
One has to remember that, if you want a Risotto as a Primi, they make it for you right then so it takes at least 1/2 hour to be served. Worth waiting for, if you aren't starving. How does a Risotto with black truffle and Pecorino sound to you?
This is a primi of polenta with black truffle sauce, in Spoleto. That sauce is all truffle. Polenta is often served on polenta boards. Should have bought one. You can see why we share courses:
And bread, of course. Umbrian bread is not very tasty, however, because they use no salt in it. Why not? Because the Pope imposed a punitive tax on salt in Umbria in 1540! The "Salt Wars" were like the Boston Tea Party. They still use little salt, and do not put it on the table. 1540 wasn't really all that long ago, and the vengeful Italians have long memories of real, perceived, imagined, or even justified offenses. Taking offense and carrying grudges is an Italian cultural specialty, and even Popes are not spared.
Photo below is just some random cafe menu sign. Odd for the sign to be in English. They probably found the sign in a flea market in Cincinnati.
Snap above is on the country road in the hilly Tiber Valley driving from Todi to Montefalco, with the charming town of Todi in the distance, on the hill. Italy is good about having a sharp distinction between town and country. Little-to-no sprawl. Except in the big cities, you go from urban density directly to vineyards, olive groves, or forests full of deer, cinghiale, eagles, even wolves and, best of all, the ferocious and dangerously-expensive Wild Black Truffle. People like to live in towns, where they can walk to work and shop, and can say bon giorno to their neighbors.
Bit of history
A quick history and geography of Umbria in central Italy, northeast of Rome, to put my forthcoming travel pics in context. It is generally similar to the history of the entire area we now term Italy.
Central Italy was the prehistoric land of the Etruscans (hence "Tuscany" - land of the Etruscans) and of the less-known Umbri. They were, relatively speaking, peaceful and prosperous farmers and traders. When Rome began its imperial expansion around 250 BC, Umbria up along the old trading route to the Adriatic (which the Romans later termed the Via Flaminia) seemed like an obvious target.
The Romans did their Roman thing there for 600 years until the empire began to unwind and Goths and Lombards moved into Tuscany and Umbria both by immigration and by arms in the 400s-500s. In many ways, these waves of invasion became sort of Romanized and Christianized, in time. The Byzantines were in the mix then, too.
Warring feudal duchys and kingdoms dominated the dark ages in this part of Italy, during a time when the declining Roman regions were also set upon by piratical Saracens (mainly seeking slaves for the Middle Eastern slave trade) and Normans (seeking adventure), until Papal power exerted itself and built an authoritarian, theocratic peace by the 1100s and 1200s. They were big on building castles with which to assert their powerful churchly presence, but from the days of the late empire people were building their own keeps and walls to defend themselves from foreigners and also from their neighboring towns. The Roman Legions had previously made walls and keeps unnecessary: the Roman armies had been the wall. The Pax Romana.
The Papal State pretty much controlled central Italy, perhaps to its detriment, until the Italian nation was invented 150 years ago. Roman Catholicism was pretty much corrupted by money and politics, during that era, including the Benedictines.
2011 is the 150th anniversary of that political event. Garibaldi, etc.
Geography
Geographically, southern Umbria divides itself into three regions: The north-south-running Tiber Valley where the Tiber flows south towards Rome, the fertile north-south running Valle Umbra which is like a mini version of California's Central Valley, and the eastern Valnerina which is the area in the majestic Appennines where the river Nera flows down to eventually join and magnify the Tiber.
We visited and stayed in incredible hotels in each of those three areas of Umbria. As in Roman times, rural and quaint Umbria is a popular Roman getaway place, full of bikers, motorcyclists, foodies, and hikers. It's only a 2 or 3 hour drive from Rome, and it is packed with "unspoiled gems."
Most of the towns were Umbrian first, Roman later, and then Medieval-Renaissance. Except for towns damaged by the war (like Terni) or by earthquakes (like Foligno), there is a lot of Renaissance, generally built on Medieval town footprints.
Except for Assisi with its bus-loads of pilgrims, we saw few non-Italian tourists and only one American couple - friendly folks from Montgomery, Alabama! Some Brits, Aussies, Austrians, and Dutch. We tend to meet people when we travel. That's part of the fun.
Todi, Amelia, Orvieto, Montefalco, and Perugia are on hills in the Tiber Valley. Towns in Umbria tended to be built on hills for defensive purposes, which is why exploring Italy is such a good physical workout. Assisi, Spoleto, Spello, and Terni are along the western edge of the Apennines where they rise from the plain. Norcia, and our monastery hotel, are in the mountains themselves near where the Nera emerges from the mountains.
Weather
Best times for Italy or any Mediterranean travel are Spring and Fall. May and October are perfect. Italy climate here.
I will have lots more fun travel pics soon - Pic below of the Valle Umbra, looking west from the Assisi hillside:
Pic below from the garden of our 6th C. Benedictine monastery hotel in the Valnerina in the Apennines, with a small hillside olive grove (doubling as parking area) below the wall. It is no wonder that people love to visit Italy: it has the food, the history, the scenery, the quaintness, the vino, the art and architecture, and the delightfully tough and fashionable Italian gals.
We stumbled onto this joint last week while taking a flyer down local roads en route from Bevegna to Spoleto. Wonderful drive on narrow winding roads through olive orchards, vineyards, small farms with patches of wheat, fava bean, and lentil, and tiny antique villages. But, of course, in Italy, when you stop for a coffee, a "coffee" means a 1/2 inch of intense espresso at the bottom of a tiny cup. A delicious half-mouthful if you add a bit of sugar, but nothing to linger over or to put in your car's cup holder.
If you request a cafe Americano, they just add some hot water to it.
This roadside charmer, like most such places in Italy, offers Italian pastries, beer, wine, cocktails, breads, sandwiches made to order, rustic pizzas, etc., to go or to eat there on plastic chairs in the A/C. Yes, you can have a smoke inside. Everybody does. Often, the serving people fix up your order with a cigarette hanging out of their mouths like the good old days, and I do not think they care deeply about what the EU or anybody else thinks about that.
Dunkin Donuts does not offer beer or wine, and you cannot smoke in there. We stopped for some water (water with "gas" - always - that evil CO2) and a quick cafe.
Never order pizza in Italy - it's terrible stuff. It was the Neapolitan immigrants to America who made it into a tasty treat - and the Italians have little interest in learning about the gastronomic arts from Americans.
I would remind the Italians of these facts: Tomato, from the New World. Potato, from the New World. Squash, from the New World. Polenta, from the New World. Pasta, from China. Risotto, from China. What did they eat before all of that?
Mrs. BD and I have concluded that Umbria is a more varied and interesting place to visit than Tuscany. I have a well-travelled friend who agrees. Umbria is, except for the tourist magnets of Perugia and Assisi, off the beaten track. We have been around much of Italy in the past, and the Latin and Italian scholar lad has been literally everywhere there.We had not toured Umbria and the old Via Flaminia (which it is still called). Mrs. and I just returned home from our delightful adventure. As I get my thoughts and pics organized, I will go over some of it: History, food, geography, etc.
I do have some ideas about how to make it more interesting and educational than a totally dull photo slideshow for Maggie's. Will do my best with a multi-part series of my travel snapshot journal. Bear with me: I will try to make it interesting.
Too tired to begin that now, but here's one photo to maybe inspire some interest in my posts to come, from one of Norcia's (pronounced nor' - cha) famous pork, cheese, and Black Truffle shops. They love their aged Cinghiale meats and sausages in Umbria (Cinghiale is Wild Boar, not our American feral pig which is not too tasty). In much of Europe, wild game is sold in markets (which is illegal in the US).
The market shops always have samples of their own aged ricotta dura (a harder and delicious version of ricotta which is good for salads), their superb Pecorino from sheep milk, or of their sausages. I was tempted to smuggle a large wheel of Pecorino Dura, but decided not to test the mysterious customs laws on importation of foods.
They roll the aged ricotta in toasted wheat for a skin, as below:
I'm delivering food and doing errands for my old folks this weekend. My Mom fell and cracked her patella while unloading groceries, cannot drive for 6 weeks, and can barely hobble around on her brace - and my Dad is half-blind, has Parkinson's, and is not allowed to drive anymore. His ornery self refuses to take the Parkinson's medicine but, thankfully, he finally agreed to get himself a hearing aid.
A neighbor is driving Mom to her best friend's funeral today at our family church on the hill.
I brought them Chinese take-out last night: Cold hot pepper cabbage, Scallion pancakes, and Scallops with Snow Peas. Then a plate of strawberries. Also left them some black bread and Nova Salmon for breakfast. Tomorrow, I'll bring them some take out Thai soups. They look too skinny, need feeding. They were never much into eating, unless it was especially good.
Somehow, we got on the topic of past family trips. I was laughing to remember the volumes of disposable diapers we travelled with - they were not available in Europe back then. With a family of 5 kids, there was usually at least one in diapers (and at least one in a bad mood). I remember trying to help tie them (the bags of diapers, not the younger brats, unfortunately) to the roof of the rental cars. My Dad always travelled with rope for that purpose, in the pre-bungee-cord era.
My Mom was remembering the large Raspberry plantings at the Roman Camp Hotel, where we all had stayed for a few days. Watching her litter grazing on Scotland's excellent raspberries, ripping them off the rows of canes. A wonderful place. My parents are picky about where they will stay - they can't stand glitz or "fancy," and they don't do tacky. They are the typical old Yankee WASPy breed that is only comfortable with understated refinement and genteel semi-shabby. No "luxury," please. They feel that "luxury" is vulgar (whereas I can learn to appreciate it when I can find it). Mom liked this place:
A few years after that trip, my folks did something unusual and selfishly left the kids behind and took a trip by themselves, and biked the length of Hadrian's Wall. Or, as my Dad corrects me, walls: there are two of them. They were finished with breeding. We had many good trips; lots of stories and tons of colorful memories. I can't remember them all: Somewhere in Europe every August, and Cape Cod too. Ocean liners - I remember each one of them. Two ski weeks each winter. Monhegan Island regularly. Very nice. Like those Bald Eagle parents with their rabbits and fish, I think they wanted to fill us with all of the experiences that they could, and the heck with the expense.
As much as I love my cozy home, going anywhere new, near or far, still ignites the adventurous spark in me, like a kid. I am lucky that I married an adventurous woman who will go anywhere, any time, and try anything. She back-packed down to Greece when she was in college. My kids are like that, too, thank God. They seem to view this world as a wonderful buffet of experiences, opportunities, and challenges.
I think my parents' travelling days are over, but they are fortunate to have 5 kids who want to pitch in, when needed. My favorite Thai place makes damn good noodle soups, and I am gonna fight the traffic and bring them some.
The BD family contains avid snorkelers, but only Mrs. BD is a skilled scuba diver. But even snorkeling, she can swim down 20 feet easily to inspect something. Loves it.
But about the peas. On good advice we bought a big bag of frozen peas at the Cabo WalMart, filled a plastic water bottle with them and then added water to the bottle. When you are diving or snorkeling near rocks or a reef, just squirt a few peas out of that bottle. You will be swarmed with tropical fish. Works like a dream. Like tossing bread to pigeons in a park. Fish were crashing into me, some over a foot long, and one bit Mrs. BD while trying to get to the pea bottle. Very cool thing to try. Wish I had had an underwater camera.
We had to go on a goofy party boat to get to a good snorkeling area, and they provided the equipment. Unlimited free drinks. It was jolly. On the way back, Mrs. BD danced the Macarena and YMCA without touching a drop of drink (not a photo of her). I didn't, and I did.
Catrina dolls and other wonderful death dolls at Mi Casa Restaurant. They are hand-made, of painted clay appropriately enough, and expensive.
Whever I want something but have no use for it and don't want to spend the $, I just take a snap of it. Then I own it, in a way. I am trying to teach Mrs. BD that approach to things - symbolic possession by internalizing an image or idea. But does it work for designer shoes?
Cabo is famous for the fishing, but we were out for meat as much as for sport and, as I mentioned, we are not really into hassling the big fish from the big boats anymore. Leave them fish alone!
We set out early with Carlos in his super-ponga to find "Sierra" - Sierra Mackeral (similar to the Atlantic Spanish Mackeral, but larger) - for dinner for ten invitees. We needed the meat but good sport is always the bonus.
I always say, "Huntin' and fishin' ain't shopping." It's a risk to invite people before catching the fish, but it's never failed for me. The Lord provideth the tortillas and the fishes. We caught 8 but really only needed 6, so had leftovers for breakfast. (We Yankees believe in fish for breakfast.)
Being lazy and on vacation, we brought our 8 cleaned and skinned mackeral over to Solomon's Landing on the marina to prepare it for us all for dinner six hours later. Since we supplied the fish, it wasn't a big expense except for the cocktails.
It was a good dinner party. Margueritas the size of bathtubs. Here was the result at 7 pm that evening -
First course: Sierra Ceviche - the best ceviche I have ever had in my life. Sierra is said to be the best fish in the world for ceviche, and I cannot dispute that. I could live on Sierra Ceviche and Margueritas:
After the dynamite ceviche, they brought platters of our Sierras cooked three ways - chef's choice: Fried with coconut, baked with capers, olives and peppers, and baked Rockefeller style (like Oysters Rockefeller) - all wonderful Mexican cooking:
Entry porch of the place where we stayed, Pueblo Bonito Sunset Beach on the Pacific side. Lots of people with kids, but elegant, beautifully-designed, built for the ages, friendly, simple, and utterly free of any tackiness. I nicknamed the place "The Hanging Gardens of Babylon" because it's built into an oceanside cliff.
A few of my random Cabo notes:
- Baja California Sur is a desert, dominated by cactus forest habitat. There are always rocky mountains in the distance, running north-south down the long peninsula. There are no rainy days and no cloudy days except in August and September. That's what creates the huge arroyos and canyons.
- The weather is said to be similar to that of Palm Springs, but with a constant sea breeze. Cool desert nights. No humidity.
- Besides the place where we stayed, other resort hotels that seemed especially appealing were Hacienda Del Mar and Palmilla (with golf) in San Jose.
- Cabo is famous for its fishing, deep-sea and coastal. Lots of tournaments. I like to know that the Marlin and Sailfish are out there, but I don't feel much of a need to hassle a fish anymore.
- In the winter months, whales are everywhere for calving season. Gray Whales and Humpbacks. Whether you go fishing, whale-watching, or just sit on the beach, they'll be out there. On the morning we left, I watched, from our terrace, a baby Humpback leaping and cavorting like a puppy.
- Our place had seven pools, some with jacuzzi jets in the corners and some with swim-up bars. We swam in a couple of them, but I am not a pool person and did not sit by one for a minute.
- I'm not much of a resort guy either, but I have to admit that they do know how to make a vacation as comfortable, painless, and convenient as this life can be. I am adaptable, and can adjust to that for a while before I feel like chopping some wood or doing something useful.
- Overheard at night in a pool between two Texas guys with drinks in hand (the only time I heard any crude talk at all): "My f-ing wife, her neighbor gets a f-ing 20-foot Christmas tree, and she has to have a 40-foot tree. Where the f-ing f- does she thinks this money comes from?" "My wife, it's the f-ing shoes. Thousand dollar shoes, she wears them once and tells me they pinch." "Yeah, well last week my f-ing wife..."
- Once you get off the main drag, it's dirt roads everywhere. Everything is coated with dust until rain comes in August.
- Odd as it seems, Cabo is only a 2-hr time difference from the East Coast.
- The Cabo area seems to mainly attract wholesome people from the Midwest and the West Coast. I suppose it serves similar purposes to those the Caribbean, Bermuda, and Florida do for Easterners. We met a number of delightful people, and spent a good evening having drinks and learning to play Mexican Train Dominoes with them. It's a good game, and you don't have to think too hard.
- Cabo San Lucas is on the southernmost tip of the long Baja peninsula, 1000 miles south of LA. My lad drove from LA to Cabo once. Mexican roads. I would not drive those highways at night - no guardrails or shoulders, cliffs, constant detours, cattle on the highways, etc.
- The ocean-side beaches, alas, are mostly not swimmable but are surfable. They tend to have a steep drop-off with powerful churning surf, strong currents, whirlpools, and undertows. Easy for a strong swimmer to lose control. The Sea of Cortez is entirely swimmable, and swim in it we did. Mrs. BD and I like cold salt water with waves. Chillier than one might expect down there. Most people use the heated pools, and make like a Manatee.
- The old part of Cabo San Lucas and the marina are predictably touristy and honky-tonk, with some fine, relatively inexpensive restaurants. Lively at night. Almost all of the resort hotels are on the Sea of Cortez side, so if you like lots of activity, guys selling faux-Mexican junk, crowded beaches, water taxis, Sea-Doos, girl-watching, boozed-up college kids, etc., that's your place. You have to go to that side to swim in the sea though, which is what we like to do.
- You get the feeling in Mexico that many jobs are either partly completed, never completed, or just abandoned. The ramshackle, third world look becomes part of the dusty charm after a day or two. On the other hand, the jobs which involve the gringos, like the resorts and vacation homes, are done very well and with fine craftsmanship, especially the stonework.
- We saw little of what we think of as "Mexican food" in the East. Yes, they have taco stands all over for the workmen, but the food we had was excellent with nary a refried bean. Not much guacamole either, but sliced avocado on top of lots of things. Saw no lemons, but those little limes are always sliced on a plate.
We ate very well in Mexico. These were seafood enchiladas with a creamy wine sauce, a relish of chopped raw vegetables marinated in lime juice, and some fried plantain chips. The green salsa with the brown corn chips was tomatillo, cilantro, onion, and chilis.
Also, the necessary daily Marguerita or two, to ward off scurvy and to prevent dehydration.
(This nice lunch was at the Cilantro Restaurant, next to the Pueblo Bonito Rose resort on the Cabo San Lucas harborside beach. That's not the hotel where we stayed but it's a good one if you like to be around a lot of activity.)
We go places and take photos to save our readers the trouble, hassle, and expense of travelling around. We do it for you!
Rolled back home to Maggie's HQ in Yankeeland at 3:15 this morning after several lengthy flight delays, stuck irritably in the Houston airport. I only have time to post one pic now - our hotel suite's terrace overlooking the quiet and peaceful Pacific side of Cabo San Lucas (as opposed to the Sea of Cortez side). Very pleasant to step into your palatial suite (His and Hers bathrooms, daily sheet changes, hot and cold-running help, chilled Pacificos on hand with lime slices, etc) and to see this sight (decadent hot tub out of sight on the left):
I found Baja Sur to be interesting in many ways. I'll get to my many pics and thoughts about it over the next few days. And yes, Capt. Tom and Dr. Merc, I did do a little fishin' - but just coastal fishing for dinner.
Morning links later today, if I can get my brain in order.
Except for some Romanesque churches and monasteries, and a few old tenuta, there is very little Medieval left in tourist Italy.
Vacations To Go
It's a good day to take a nude dip off the stern of ye olde yacht.
I like those Eyewitness Travel Guides as a quick survey of what there is to do and see when you go somewhere. 
As I mentioned earlier, in Italy you order your sides - vegetables, salad, etc - separately, if you want them at all, and they come in separate dishes so as not to contaminate the flavor of your Secondi dish (in contrast to how Huck Finn would like his dinner prepared).
