Maggie's Farm

It's the time of year when people fuss over nailing down their schedule for the year. Choosing and planning takes a lot of time and thought.

We have a few good ones lined up this year - one a lazy grand luxe, one an exploration of Sicily (pick up Costco rental auto at the Palermo airport, and head on out, meander all around, hike up Mount Etna, take a ferry to Malta, probably get lost a few times despite the GPS, then eventually fly out from Catania), and the annual family reunion in Cape Cod with all the sibs, kids etc. Plus I hope the list will include a hunt trip for me and pals in the fall. Maine or Manitoba. Carpe Diem.

Here's one of the tenutas we chose - Tenuta Cammarana - (near Ragusa and Lampedusa, and not far from the ferry to Malta). In Italy, we always stay in tenutas (agriturismos) and I highly recommend doing that. Usually you'll be the only Americans there, which is not a bad thing when traveling. Karen Brown has researched them all for you.

I will take pics of Roger de Hauteville's ancestral Norman castles. Those crazy Vikings went everywhere, didn't they? Adventurers and warriors by nature, those Danskers.

I am already ahead of myself, because for 2015 (the good Lord willing) it will be a multi-bedroom villa in Tuscany, or maybe the Midi, with pool, cook, rental vehicles, etc., for ten days with room for friends and all the Bird Dog crew and any significant others. Not expensive, but something I want to do for all before I reach deep middle age.

What adventures and trips have y'all planned for 2014?

Yesterday a friend emailed me his photo of sunset from a Dominican Republic resort. He called it Paradise, I don't know why. Cheap but excellent ceegars?  Paradise for me is a cold, wet duck boat on a northern marsh, but there are times, I must confess, when the sub-tropics and tropics are appealing. For example, I do love Bermuda and the Everglades.

Mrs. BD is planning a winter trip to Islamorada, but I have sort-of lost my enthusiasm for fishing - I just like to know that the fish are there - and I will not sit on a beach for more than five minutes although I am happy to swim in salt water. Might be good bird-watching, though.

Street scene, early morning, Verona a week or two ago. Everybody loves Verona. What Verona lacks is a 24-hr Dunkin Donuts.

- GPS is very handy in Europe, but 10% of the time she will direct you to the most direct route instead of the most sensible route. I got some grey hairs from her direct route up in the Alps. No guardrails, cliffs, etc. Then a narrow tunnel. Exciting. Wakes you up. The locals zoom their beemers and Harleys along the edge of the cliffs.

- In addition to la bella figura, you can tell Italians from tourists because in town they ride bikes, Vespas, or motorcycles, have dogs, and are constantly smoking and drinking. Their dogs are always arguing in the street. And they kiss each other when they meet friends on the passagiatta.

- For Alpine hiking, you need Medium Weight hiking boots and a backpack with water.

- Nobody takes an AmEx card in Europe anymore

- Your cash evaporates while traveling. Bring more than you think you'll need, and inform your credit cards about your trip or they might freeze them when you use an ATM. Generally speaking, they want cash. Especially the restaurants. Many of the good ones, for locals, will not take any credit cards.

- In northern Italy, they only provide balsamic vinegar. Fine with me. 

- In the Milan airport, we saw at least three women with burkhas and all that. One had a Ferragamo bag, the other two had Prada. Mrs. BD was impressed that they had found a way to show off. Their husbands looked like terrorists, and their kids acted bratty and out of control. They rushed off when the Emirates Air flight was announced.

- A reader asked why we "always" go to Italy. We don't only go there (our trips this year have included Georgia and Cape Cod), but there is no one Italy. There are a bunch of provinces and old city states with their own traditions and cultures that have only been politically united for 100 years, and are still far from socially united. As you saw in my travelogue, we spent 4 days in a purely German-speaking part of Italy (well, German and Ladin) where they make German food. Think Scotland vs. England, or Vermont vs. Texas.

- Food: In northern Italy (ie north of Siena and Emilia-Romagna) they cook mostly with butter, not olive oil. Their pastas are tagliatelle egg noodles (real good) and tortellini (which I hate). For carbs, they are big on risotto, polenta, and gnocchi (all good). Their very fine Lasagnas are soft, and have nutmeg. They like to cook with truffle and truffle oil, and they love their Porcinis. They like meat (steak, roast beef, rabbit, and horse) and seafood. Most menus have octopus in some form. I like any seafood. Italian foods are designed to be consumed with wine and I can attest that they are not as tasty without it.

- Weather: Generally, I'd try to avoid southern Europe in July and August. Too hot, and too many tourists.

We drove down from the Dolomites to Verona, which is immediately south of the foothills. Straight shot on the Austostrada (#22).  Nice little Renaissance town. We mostly stayed in the Old City (an old Roman city on the bend of the Aldige River) instead of venturing out into the modern city (pop. 275,000). Tourists hang around the old city, but plenty of Italians come into the old city for fun and shopping.

Verona is a charming old town, walkably-manageable in size although we did get a little lost walking out to see St. Zeno. Getting lost is not a bad thing because you see things.

The Passagiata in Verona is wonderful, between 5 and 8 pm. It's a town of lovely women of all ages, and the Italian men look great with their fitted shirts and tailoring. We tourist men, not so great. All the kids in strollers and backpacks look good, and the women look feminine.

In my view, all women and all men ought to try to look their best, in public at least. Being over 40 or 50 doesn't mean that you are dead. I just have no talent for style. I shoulda brought my red trousers.

Dinner is around 8-8:30, and afterwards the young and/or single people, looking good, fill the narrow streets and piazzas - I call them pizzas - and bars with laughter and flirtation. A jolly scene.

Lots more pics below the fold - Mrs. BD thought our lady readers might enjoy the clothing shops -

The real destination of our trip was the Dolomites. We just threw in Lake Garda and Verona for fun.

Hiking (plus rock-climbing and mountain-climbing) in the Dolomites is the local summer sport. People don't walk - they hike and cover a lot of ground. Most people use hiking poles or hiking staffs, for good reason. You are always going up or going down. There is some mountain biking too. In winter, it's all skiing.

The Italian province is the Trentino/Alta Aldige/Sudtirol , on the Austrian border. Of the ten or so Dolomite valleys where people can stay, Mrs. BD picked the Val Gardena.

We drove from Lake Garda up on the scenic route and watched the agriculture change from olives, palms, and lemons to vast apple orchards and vinegards, and finally to Alpine hay fields. ...caught the autostrade in Trent (Trentino) and drove up it to Bolzano (where the Ice Man resides) to exit before the Brenner Pass to drive up windy roads to our classic Alpine Hotel in the tiny hamlet of Bulla on a hillside up above Ortesei.

Here's one of the high Alpine meadows above Ortesei - the highest Alpine meadow that exists. Alpe di Siusi.

As I have said, there is no one Italy - it is many places. Observations, suggestions, and lotsa scenic pics below the fold.

 Dear Readers: It takes me a bit of time and effort to size and post travelogue pics. Please given them a glance. No need to comment, but I would not post them if I did not think they might be interesting...

We have spent time on the Italian lakes (both Maggiore and Como) in the past but Lake Garda was sort-of on our route up into the Italian Alps and the Dolomites, so we stopped by to stay for a couple of days at a superb B&B about halfway up the western side of the lake in Gardone Riviera at  (Thanks again, Karen Brown and Trip Advisor) - Dimora Balsone.

Our gracious host Rafael, a semi-retired lawyer, rebuilt a dilapidated 500 year-old farmhouse and is gradually rebuilding the farm - mostly olive groves with some fig trees and Peach trees. You can tell he loves the place and is investing a lot into it.

View from our tiny rooftop balcony:

More pics of food, the Lake, and side trips to Sola and Sirmione below the fold -

View from our balcony in the hamlet of Bulla, outside Ortesei (down there in the valley) in the Val Gardena. Before I get to talking about the Alps, though, I need to complete my Lake Garda post (maybe tomorrow). Add to this pic the tinkling of sheep bells and the bongs of the tiny local Roman Catholic Church with its burial ground in front.

Up here, German is the dominant language. Road signs are in German, Italian, and Ladin. Food a mix of German and Italian. Best veal I've ever eaten in my life, but spaetzl is something I can live without.

Serious German hikers and mountain bikers all over the mountains. A few died climbing while we were there, but risk is what adds the zest to rock climbing. We called these vigorous Germans the Hitler Youth, and the Aryan gals the Rhine Maidens. It's only a few hours south of Munich, through the Brenner Pass. Europe is small.

Up in these mountains, one can barely imagine the rigorous WW 1 winter Alpine fighting that occurred here. Mark Helprin's masterpiece (I think) included a lot of that. Read it, if you haven't. The outcome, of course, was that this part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire ended up as part of Italy.

 Set up for breakfast at our B&B overlooking Lake Garda last week.

What's for breakfast? (At 9 am, when most Americans have been working for a couple of hours)

See below, and note the cheese on the far left end of the table. It's 12-month Parmesan, still soft enough to eat with a knife and fork. Never had 12-month Parmesan before. Great stuff, maybe my favorite cheese right now. (Parmesan for grating is aged 18-36 months.)  

On our way up to Lake Garda from Milan, we stopped to check out Bergamo for a few hours. We had read that it is undeservedly overlooked, a hidden treasure.

Here's a virtual tourist guide.

The medieval citta alta overlooks a clearly prosperous modern town. We parked the car and took the funicular up to the old hilltop town. We strolled around the town and had a great lunch. Most of my pics are food, classic Lombardy cooking.

They are famous for a polenta-based dessert.

More Bergamo pics below the fold -

Your Editor Dog is back after 12 days without phone, email, internet, TV, or radio. That was a blessing, and put life in perspective - as corny as that may sound. Home is good, work is good, but away is good too. We saw very few Americans, which was different too.

I'll post a few Show 'n Tells of pics when and if I get them organized, with my usual snappy commentary, keen observations, and handy travel tips.

In short, our itinerary was flying non-stop to Milan (Malpensa airport, Italy's largest and busiest), arriving at 7 am local time and picking up our rental car (thanks, Costco international rentals) which they unaccountably and without charge upgraded from an Audi A3 sedan to a Mercedes diesel standard shift wagon which was a comfortable car to drive. The standard was handy for the mountain driving and endless uphill hairpin turns.

We promptly escaped Milano and headed east on A-4 (which is Italy's I-95 - busiest highway in the country) to our excellent B&B about a third of the way up the western shore of Lake Garda, but we had to spend a few hours on the way checking out Bergamo (parked in the town center and took the funicular up to the old city, and had an elegant lunch and a good stroll). Then we proceeded up to our 15th C. B&B farmhouse (Thanks, Karen Brown) in Gardone Riviera for a couple of days on the lake before driving up (the long, scenic route with tunnels, curvy roads, and the large Alpine foothills via Riva del Garda for a brief look-see - lots of quick stops for a caffe or Coke) before getting on the A-22 through Trent and Bolzano to our B&B high on an alpine hill outside Ortesei in the Val Gardena in Italy's Alto Aldige on the Austrian border for a few days of energetic hiking in the Sud Tyrol where nobody speaks Italian but mainly German or Ladin. (Yes, I can write run-on sentences if I need to.) The Val Gardena in the Dolomites is an UNESCO World Heritage site.

After that, we cruised down from the Alps on A-22 to Verona in the Veneto, and spent a few days exploring the old part of the charming city from our elegant old hotel (which was about twelve steps from the Piazza del Erbe) before departing early yesterday morning to drive the A-4 again from Verona to the airport in Milan. Verona has the most beautiful women in the world, in abundance. Juliets, most of them, and they know how to dress - and walk - for maximum impact. Make a note of it, you single fellows.  La Bella Figura.

Highest points of our trip:

- Rigoletto in the Arena di Verona, 4th row center. This year was the centennial of Verona's opera season in the huge Roman arena, built to seat 20,000 blood-thirsty citizens of Roman Verona. They request that you dress nicely for the good seats, so we did.

- Hiking above the top of the Seceda funicular in Ortesei, up to 3200 m. where you have to take a breath between each spoken phrase while hiking until you get down a few hundred meters where there is a bit more oxygen.

- Seeing the sort-of Persian, sort-of Klimt, stunning Madonna of the Rose Garden at the Castelvecchio Museum in Verona:

Thanks to Mrs. BD for yet another splendidly-planned joint-birthday adventure.

Here's your Editor, high in the Dolomiti at the tree line. Yes, we hiked our butts off. As usual on our trips, we lose weight from our levels of activity despite very fine dining.

Be there or be square. Evening ice cream at Mac's on the town dock. One of the very few places on earth I know where standing in a line is sorta fun. Fleece or sweater required.

A couple more pics below the fold -

To cheer me up and to distract me from all of the family death and all of the memory tape loops that keep running through my mind with no "pause" button that I can find, Mrs. BD is treating me to a little trip later this summer. Carpe diem in the face of death.

She thinks physical effort will help me feel better. Usually works for me. I love physical effort as long as it doesn't require brains. It's a birthday present for me too, I guess. Or for both of us. She is a world-class trip-planner. It's hiking in the Dolomites above Lake Garda, then a few days banging around the Veneto (with no Venice, thankfully. I hate that tourist trap. We fly into Milan and then drive right out in a rental sports car. I don't care for Milan either.). I intend to rent a little speedboat on Lake Garda and to try to act Italian. In the upper Veneto, some speak German, some speak only Ladin, some speak Italian in public but Ladin with family.

For her birthday, what shall I offer the gal who has everything she needs (except perfect financial security - still waiting for Powerball - however, her material wants and expectations have always been minimal but her cultural, relational, and spiritual desires are considerable. And I have lotsa life insurance...)? Ah, I know just the thing. Tix for Rigoletto at the Arena di Verona.

She can hum a lot of it and recite the details of the tale, but has never seen it live.

Got 'em. Don't tell.

We took the pup for a long off-leash walk two Saturday mornings ago. We ran into a 92 year-old Norwegian neighbor and friend on his daily morning hike. He has climbed the Matterhorn, Mount Blanc, some of the Himalayas. We asked him about the Dolomites. He knew every town, every mountain. Had climbed the Five Fingers. "It's soft stone, Dolomite. Easy to climb." Well, I'll hike all day but I don't climb mountains. Heights have a bad effect on me.

Then, as we head back to the HQ, a car pulls over. A relatively new neighbor and new friend just stopping to say hi. Our dogs are friends too. He's on the way to the airport. We ask where they are going. "Dolomites. Hiking, some rock climbing. Then a couple of days on Lake Garda. We'll have supper and fill you in when we get back."

Life is good, despite it all.

Why anybody would go anywhere else for a summer water vacation is a mystery to me. No bugs, sea breeze, 57 degrees F at night, biking, boating, kayaking, hiking trails, running, day-fresh seafood, ocean beach, harbor beach, bay beach, and big ponds. Lots of fun family restaurants. The protection of the vast National Seashore. And no mega-rich jerks. They go to the Hamptons or Nantucket. Or if they come here, it doesn't show. Mostly very pleasant and polite people. More Subarus than Beemers.

If you squint, you can see Portugal on the horizon.

A few more Wellfleet pics below the fold

"Savvy travelers have come to depend on Karen Brown's recommendations."

Yes, indeed.  Over the years, Karen Brown has never recommended a dud to us. For the past few years, Mrs. BD has relied entirely on her travel and inn recommendations. She's not about Hiltons, The Four Seasons, Sheratons. She's not about discount places either, or mass market. She's about boutique charm and local flavor.

Books by Karen Brown.

Her books are absurdly expensive as listed there (no idea why). Just Google her, and you can find them for $4.99. Most libraries have them too.

Althouse asks "What is the difference between a tourist and a traveler?"

I suppose the tourist goes to see certain things, eg The Grand Canyon or Harrod's or St. Peter's. The traveler goes to "be there" and meander and to soak it up.

Mrs. BD and I are somewhere in between. We like to rent a car and pop into unknown places, farm town greasy spoon in Colorado, a little local ristorante in an unknown village in Italy, but we also want to see the cathedral, the Norman castle, and the famous gardens. My lad, a true traveler, just likes to wander with a backpack. If he sees a ferry to Sardinia, he hops on. If something looks interesting, he'll walk in.

My pic of the piazza on the dock at Bellagio on Lake Como. There is nothing much to see there, but it's a nice little place to hang out for a while.

On our drive up from JAX towards Little Saint Simons, we made a couple of brief side visits, one to Fort Frederika on (big) Saint Simons Island, and one to Fernandina on Amelia Island. Both places have interesting histories.

The short-lived fort and town of Frederika on the river/marsh side of Saint Simons stopped the Hispanic (Spanish) invasion from Florida into the English colonies in 1742. Its purpose having been served, the population, including many of the Scottish Highlander soldiers, moved to the mainland. The Spanish never tried to invade the coast again.

Most astonishing factoid about Frederika:  The Wesley brothers preached there, John and Charles, more or less the founders of Methodism in England. Charles, of course, best known for his splendid hymn-writing. (I once lost a bet of an expensive bottle of wine at a dinner party when I bet that the Wesleys never preached in Georgia.)

A nice Live Oak on the site of the old abandoned village:

Since we had a little time on the road, we also checked out Amelia Island briefly, for lunch. Instead out scouting out the Amelia Island Plantation, we went into Fernandina. Charming little town. Amelia Island is termed the land of eight flags because it has been claimed by eight nations over its history. I'm sure they all wanted to own the golf courses.

A few pics of Fernandina below the fold.

Mohonk. New Paltz, NY. Visited many times growing up. One of my Grandpas loved it.

The Quakers who own it even finally gave in and began serving booze. It used to be that you had to smuggle your cocktails in there and have them in your rooms.

Here's a video report about Little Saint Simons Island, with some outdoor video with our friend, the young naturalist Abby. It's a good video.

Travel and Leisure Magazine lists the place among the 500 best hotels in the world, and it's in that book, 1000 Places to See Before You Die.

A few more of my pics and comments about the Georgia barrier island.

Salt Marsh, early morning. Despite its short coastline, Georgia has 30% of the north Atlantic coast salt marshes. They go on for miles and are enormously productive. Very productive of Salt Marsh Skeeters too.

Lots more fun pics below the fold, with critters, Southern food, etc. -

My snap above is the main lodge. As I mentioned previously, it's a barrier island accessible only by small boat.

What sorts of people would spend serious bucks to inhabit rustic cabins built in 1910 on the edge of a swamp with far fewer amenities than home, the air full of skeeters, Diamondback Rattlers and gators roaming around, no elegant plantings other than God's, simple home cookin, no umbrella drinks, and where the evening entertainment is an academic talk on bird migration?

Well, as Mrs. BD pointed out, it can be expensive to get that old-timey vigorous WASPy in-the-woods time these days in remote places. A condo on a beach with WiFi and TV, hotel menus, and Pina Coladas and lounge chairs around the pool would be less than half the price tag, but boring as heck. She believes that my Yankee-types, as a matter of taste, like either grand luxe or rustic roughing-it, and nothing in-between. Probably right. In addition, we do not like to sit on vacations. Go Go Hi Ho.

As she also pointed out, the price at Little Saint Simons is all-inclusive - all meals (no menu choices, of course - family-style), all of the naturalist adventures, all the boats and kayaks and bikes, all the booze and cocktail hours and oyster roasts and shrimp boils at the beach. And the entirely private 7-mile island, just for you. Chef is a grad of the CIA (Culinary Institute of America for those of you in Yorba Linda) but he does home cookin like his grandma.

So who was there (all with spouses)? A self-selecting elite bunch of folks. A recently-retired career Army Ranger from Colorado who discovered an interest in natural history. A retired Memphis cotton broker. A NYC doctor. A high school teacher couple from Salt Lake City. An 8th-grade Science teacher from Michigan. A famous nature artist from Massachusetts. An Ornithology prof from Georgia Southern (not a railroad - a university). A professor of something from Boston. A fund manager from Chicago. A jolly, congenial, and intelligent crew, and a tattoo-free zone for sure. Lots of laughs at mealtimes.

Despite the skeeters, they have a high repeat rate. I would recommend March-April-May or October for a place like this. Too hot and too many bugs in the summertime - for me, anyway.

Our temps last week were daytime highs around 76 and nights high 50s-low 60s. Constant sea breeze. Perfect.

I remarked to Mrs. BD that it must be a rare "resort" vacation spot indeed where, when one of the resident naturalists asks for a show of hands for the next morning's 7 AM birding in the marsh, almost everybody present raises their hands.

"Meet at the trucks at 7 on the dot."

More boring travelogue pics and nature details below the fold -

Hey, y'all. Your Editor is back from one of the the Georgia barrier islands which is pure nature preserve except for a 2-acre compound of rustic cabins. 5 days without radio, car, TV, or intertunnel but with constant hiking, birding, snake-watching, gator-dodging, skeeter-slapping, biking, skiffing, etc. while thriving on real Southern low-country home cookin with all very jolly and congenial family-style meals (which they term "food events") and SweetWater Beer on tap. No hot tubs, heated pools, or even DVD players. Not even a single golf course. Well, they did have a few pickup trucks with seats on the back for the daily 7 AM birding events. (My recent posts were pre-posted).

No flight delays, system worked like a charm. Flew into JAX, rental car, got to Saint Simons in time to catch the small outboard out to Little Saint Simons Island. 12-24 guests, 10,000 untouched acres of maritime forest and 7 miles of ocean beachfront without a soul on it - unless shore birds have souls. No roads, just sand tracks. For a Yankee, that ocean water was balmy in April.

At Dr. Merc's request, I will get organized and gradually post a few of the over 60 pics I took. Those barrier islands have interesting ecologies.

And I will post my bird list (our team easily went over 100 species in just a few days).

Thanks to all for pitching in at Maggie's.

Somebody wrote a book filled with ideas: 1,000 Places to See Before You Die: A Traveler's Life List.

It's written in a lively style, one page per "place."