Flooding in the Cinque Terre and Tuscany - The Aftermath · Nov 1, 11:46 AM by James Martin
If you’ve followed the story of watery mayhem and destruction in Liguria and Tuscany, you may have come away with a mental map showing a large section of Italy chunking off from the mainland and crashing unceremoniously into the sea, never to be fawned over by a tourist or travel writer again.
It’s time to put all this in perspective. I feel a need to do this because I was with friends from Oakland on a Greek ferry when the 1989 earthquake struck the Bay Area. We could see pictures of the destruction on the TV in the bar. Every 15 minutes the crowd fell into silence as the television replayed scene after devastating scene. Cripes, Frisco was no more!
Of course, this was not the case. Not even close. By the time we came home, you could not tell there had been an earthquake at all, unless you happened to be at the dinner table with folks who just had to fill you in on the details. In the end, you have to admit: humans are quite resourceful when it comes to repairing things, expecially beautiful things.
It’s the same with northern Italy. Sure, there’s been destruction. But it’s not like either region has been wiped off the map. And flooding here is a frequent occurrence, as David Downie points out in Devistating, Lethal Floods in the Cinque Terre”.
The Lunigiana was hard hit by the massive rainstorm. Aulla is still closed to outsiders, the whole of its downtown area a mass of mud and messed-up cars. But Mike Mazzaschi of A Path to Lunch fame tells a story of the rest of the Lunigiana:
We walked all around Pontremoli, but could find no damage! Despite those incredible pictures, the building along the rivers were fine, no evidence of flooding, no one cleaning up. We drove by one bridge which was closed – down the valley at the edge of town, but all the walking bridges around town were fine.
Of course, there are allso sad stories about the folks who’ve come to help as well. Friend Paula Loi reports from her home in Sardinia:
Sandro Usai from Arbus (Sardinia), passed away while helping as a volunteer. A big wave took him away! His body was finally found today after searching for him for days! how sad!
Yes, folks from far and wide have come to help. Ciao Lunigiana reports that “refugees from Lampedusa helping with the cleanup in Lunigiana.”
What’s to come? More work. More rain. Again from Ciao Lunigiana: “Forecasts are still for heavy rain arriving on Friday through to 10 November, although not as heavy as the rain expected in Liguria and Piemonte. Piemonte is expected to receive 50% of its annual rainfall in this period.”
Bad weather and good deeds continue in Liguria and Tuscany— รจ sempre cosi.
Flooding in the Cinque Terre and Tuscany - The Aftermath originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Nov 01, 2011, © James Martin, 
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Now is not the time to go to the Cinque Terre--or Tuscany · Oct 26, 01:40 PM by James Martin
It’s devastating to hear the news from our little corner of Italy. Torential downpours over the last few days have ravished the medieval cities along the rivers they depended upon. Friends say our market town of Aulla has been completely trashed by the swollen river. Two have died there; three in Liguria. Hundreds sleep in the old train station. Folks are being evacuated. Sad pictures from Aulla.
The Cinque Terre is suffering a similar fate, with the steep slopes sending monumental amounts of water into the towns. Look at Vernazza.
There is not much to say. For the first time in my life since buying our Italian house, I can be sincerely glad I’m not inside it at the moment.
Now is not the time to go to the Cinque Terre--or Tuscany originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Oct 26, 2011, © James Martin,
Fancy Pants Pictures from Tuscany · Oct 19, 04:52 PM by James Martin
You see thousands of travel pictures taken by all kinds of folks posted on the net. Usually the ones you look at are from your own country due to language issues. Thus, just a little, they probably share a tiny bit of your worldview. They’re purty, but you’ve been there and done that.
I have to say I was surprised when one of my close Italian neighbors, the master Italian gardener Enrico’s wife Isa, sent me notice of her slide show. Now, folks are often bowled over when I tell them I know more about my Italian neighbors than about my neighbors in California, but I do. Still, I was blown away by the quality of Isa’s photography. So, I thought you’d like to know where a Lunigiana couple goes on a “close” vacation, and what they think is important enough to photograph. So, here:
Now, was that artistic or not?
Fancy Pants Pictures from Tuscany originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Oct 19, 2011, © James Martin,
Popular These Days
I Will Miss This When I Go Away · Sep 20, 10:25 AM by James Martin
The little village I live in looks fairly remote in this picture, doesn’t it?
I Will Miss This When I Go Away originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Sep 20, 2011, © James Martin,
Lunigiana After the Storm · Sep 20, 04:05 AM by James Martin
Today has emerged with a crystal clarity—after a distinct change in the weather doused us in rain and covered us in dark, brooding clouds for a couple of days.
Today, merchants at the Fivizzano market wore jackets. The market itself looked different. Shades over the various tables weren’t to be seen, despite the sun’s presence. Before, sun was the enemy—today it provided a soothing warmth. Fall has arrived.
But one thing is different here than in the US. Today when we arrived at the Macelleria Azieda Agraria La Valle, the new market between Rometta and Sericciolo that sells only local goods, there was a big basket of huge porcini mushrooms there to provide eye candy to all who entered. Indeed, at the market everyone was talking about the funghi and the best places to find them.
It’s that seasonality that I’m sad to lose as I contemplate returning to the states—the joy of walking into a store and seeing agretti, or puntarelle, or mushrooms the owner has foraged for. It’s always the same old stuff in Safeway; unless there’s enough to furnish all of the stores of a big chain, you’re out of luck, Bub. It’s sad, and depressing to shop in America.
But today we are happy. We are in Tuscany. The air is clear. So clear that Bastia Castle, quite a distance from us, can be seen clearly, as if only a short stroll would be required to reach it. The picture below was taken with over 400mm of telephoto lens. It’s a picture I’ve tried to take before, but the long lens compresses the junk in the air and makes for a mushy picture on most days. But not today.
See Bastia Castle from Above, on a Google Map.
Lunigiana After the Storm originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Sep 20, 2011, © James Martin,
But First the Weather · Sep 19, 06:13 AM by James Martin
I have a lot to talk to you about. But first, the weather. That’s the way they do it on the tee-vee, if I remember correctly. You can wait for a story all day, but there’s the weather, reports about ball games, lots of ads, a list of the new murders—and before you know it you’re too tired to wait for the main story.
Anyway, yesterday was a day of much-needed rain here in the Lunigiana. It poured pretty much all day. There was a little thunder in the afternoon. Otherwise dreary.
But today began with a stunning clarity and blue skies. We yearned to get out. As soon as we did, clouds started forming. Then, after lunch, it actually rained a bit again. We went in search of stunning views. Even though these pictures were taken with a little pocket camera, the views of the Alpi Apuane were so good I thought I’d share them with you before returning to work on the Wandering Europe newsletter.
Even the non-mountain landscapes were sorta purty.
(You can click the picture in the upper right and it’ll get bigger. You can click the bottom one, but it will just sit there and do nothing. If it does do something, call me.)
But First the Weather originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Sep 19, 2011, © James Martin,
Mountain Biking in the Lunigiana · Sep 11, 06:37 AM by James Martin
We were lucky. After deciding to amble over to Serricciolo for our Sunday coffee and pastries, we flung open the newly-varnished door and discovered flagmen lining our “street”. Their presence reminded us that there was a mountain biking race scheduled for the morning. Our battered guard rails held taped-on notices. The race was slated to head right past our door; racers would almost clip the corner of Francesca and Armando’s place.
Not only that, it was a stiff uphill climb to get up to the place, and I knew the racers would be huffing and puffing—and the pictures would be easy.
So, I strapped on the big lens and headed out the door. In a couple of giant steps I got to where I could see exactly where they’d come up the hill, aiming for the corbeled passageway under the building to continue on to even higher ground. There I set up. I’ve done lots of racing photography in my life, and never has the commute been easier.
First came a moto, sputtering up the hill, then the strung out pack. The guy leading must have been good, he had quite a lead. After the next ten, the rest of the pack seemed to fade. But that meant they had time to greet all the folks along the road. It was nice. They wear colorful clothes.
After they had all passed, I shoved the lens in my bag and we headed down the road to Serricciolo, as we usually do when we’re home in Piano di Collecchia, lusting for a half-dozen or so of their famed tiny mini-pastries and a coffee.
Twenty minutes later we ambled into town. We turned to head toward the bar, passing a man with one of those red lollypop things cops stop you on the highway with to check your documentation. Right there, in front of the bar was the Arrivo, nicely planned it so that the sun would be cranking out its light behind the racers, making the photos nicely dim and shadowy.
After coffee and cakes, the first racer arrived. It was the same man who lead the race up the hill in Piano di Collecchia.
Finally, the guy sponsored by “brains” had time to get some shuteye.
Mountain Biking in the Lunigiana originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Sep 11, 2011, © James Martin,
Passeggiata del Gusto in the Lunigiana · Sep 5, 12:06 AM by James Martin
I walk to eat. Sure, I know you can emerge occasionally from your sedentary lifestyle to sit down in a restaurant where you’ll pay good money to have plates and plates of good food set before you—but after a very short while you’ll feel too full to take pleasure in what you’re eating. Your body somehow manages to convey the message, “stop right now!” There is nothing worse than a good, old fashioned nagging by your very own body.
The Passeggiata del Gusto solves this dilemma by making you walk for your food. Tastefully, of course.
So yesterday we drove to Villafranca in the Lunigiana to start our first Passeggiata del Gusto experience. We found a big tent where they took my 18 Euros and gave me a backpack, a bright orange cap with “Io Bevo” (I drink) written upon it, and a tee shirt.
Then 140 of us hopped on buses and were whisked off to the highest point in the itinerary, Malgrate (see the picture above; click to make it bigger). We toured the borgo, then stormed the entrance to the castle and puttered around a bit before our guide gave a small talk and sent us to the starting line for our first foray into the field. Prosecco and a variety of other less interesting beverages were there to greet us. Surprisingly, bowls of what one could call Italian junk food accompanied all the liquids. Hmmm.
But that’s all grease under the white-flour bridge. We were off.
Our guide was from Massa. His first act in the field was to tell us to wait a moment while he looked around the corner to see if he was actually taking us in the right direction. He did not seem sure of himself.
No worry, we eventually made it to the village of Mocrone where, under a tent set up in the shadow of the church, a spread of local delicacies awaited us: salumi, bread, and various torte d’erbe.
Thus fortified, we were off to Filetto for the main course. We wandered along a nice pathway, fairly flat, and well-covered by vegetation. Not that there was sun to hide from, but it had begun to sprinkle.
Lunch was to be consumed under medieval arcades adjacent to a grassy courtyard—which was a very good thing, as it had begun to rain as young folks started serving up the testaroli al pesto. By the time the secondo piatto arrived—pork ribs and sausage—the sprinkle had turned into a deluge that had begun to turn the inner courtyard into a small lake.
But by the time our merry and nattily dressed band of intrepid walkers had stripped the last bits of meat from the ribs, the rain had stopped and there was time to head for the bar for a coffee before we headed out to ford the Bagnone river, whose flow had been increased by the recent deluge.
More idyllic scenery. Horses. Mother and colt. Flies. Uphill trek to Virgoletta, a village we’d never been to.
A fine village. Right along the Via Francigena, and possessing a community fountain with famed waters to moisten the parched throats and calm the seething souls of the passing faithful. They even have a web site you can access in English.
In fact, we were there specifically to take the waters. And have some dolce and a drop more wine.
Italians have an interesting relationship with water. Perhaps it extends from the healing spring waters discovered by Romans and the civilizations that preceded them. Water keeps you healthy; in restaurants you are willing to pay for waters that erupt from springs, but not nearly as much as other cultures will pay for them. And you can water your insides all you want and it’s all good, but don’t get wet within three hours of eating or that water will kill you.
In any case, we exited the ridge-top village and shuffled along the Via Francigena to the fountain, drank, took a group photo, and retraced our steps back to the river, led by the Mayor of Villafranca, who intrepidly took us down an overgrown path brimming with berries.
Which was blocked.
Luckily, the mayor knew another way to his city via a road wider than any I’ve seen in the Lunigiana (blocked off to cars) where we passed a man who beat his dog mercilessly, causing all manner of consternation among our gathered and well-fed throng; I hesitated a while to see if they’d rip the man to shreds but they didn’t. Lots of pointed stares though.
Then Villafranca came into view. We said our goodbys to our new friends and made our way home.
By the time we got there, I was hungry. Getting lost, retracing steps, and fording rivers does that to a guy. It was a great day. I recommend Passeggiata del Gusto to anyone with an interest in local food, local villages, castles, and walking.
Now get lost. And eat well.
Passeggiata del Gusto in the Lunigiana originally appeared on WanderingItaly.com Sep 05, 2011, © James Martin,