The Magic of Cretaiole

Saturday, 6/18

This morning Greg went out to get yogurt before our early morning train to Tuscany, and returned full of excitement, "You've got to come outside!" I quickly finished dressing and rushed out to see what had him giddy so early in the morning; the entire piazza had silently converted itself into an open air market. Vendors selling shoes, clothes, fruits, vegetables, fish, meat, cheese, honey, quilts, and handbags, all under tents open air style. How they crept in silently as we slept, I have no idea. We enjoyed making a few laps, window shopping, not buying, knowing we had a hike down to the Funicolare (we did not intend to risk the crazy bus ride again), and we didn't want our backpacks any heavier than they already were. A quick train ride to Chiusi made us two new friends. A couple from Wisconsin who had survived that fateful bus ride with us the day before ended up sharing the seats across from us on the train. Exiting the train at Chiusi station, we went about finding our rental car place and after a little help from the ticket saleswoman, we found the Autoleggio just down the street. A very helpful, friendly, English speaking young man behind the desk helped us and a few other families get safely on the road. Greg is now confidently driving a shiny black Fiat 500, with moon roof, through the green hills of Tuscany. I am doing well navigating maps in a foreign language and he reading the street signs. Tuscany is more beautiful than I ever imagined. Several of the hill towns literally took our breath away when they came into view as we rounded the bend. We arrived at our Agriturismo to drop off our bags and marvel at the amazing grounds and our adorable room with the iron framed bed, complete with pictures of saints smiling down on us. We briefly met Carlo, one of the owners, who sweetly explained the accommodations to us in Italian (his only language, besides French which was no help to us) and amazingly we were able to comprehend most of the tour. I guess we are picking up the language after all! (Even if we supplement with Spanish here and there...) Starving we headed off to a ristorante that had been recommended to us and enjoyed some grilled cheese (they serve the bread on the side and heat the cheese on a grill, delicious!) bruschetta with tomato and garlic and some verdura mista (we are learning mista means mixed), these veggies were marinated and very flavorful. One of our favorite lunches so far! (Side note: Are you having fun with the Italian pronunciations so far? Wait till we get to Denmark and Holland!) Back at the farm house, we got to meet Isabella (our energetic English speaking hostess, Carlo's wife). Isabella gave us the English version of the tour and shared with us the list of activities, tours, and entertainment that would be available to us as her guests. We took our list back to our room and tried to decide which events to participate in (so many to choose from, there's no way to do them all... Better to save a few for 'next time' wink, wink...) Speaking of updates, we've been told that Cretaiole has a satellite internet connection and WiFi. Though it is very slow and limited, so we won't be able to attach pictures regularly. (That will just mean more to come later!) Next we had some housekeeping to do; our laundry has been piling up, and sweaty, stinky socks and shirts can only be worn comfortably so many times. Luckily, we have use of the washing machine here. There's nothing like leaving your clothes to dry under the Tuscan sun while you run off the the market. We grabbed some food to stock our fridge with at the Co Op (according to Isabella this is where Italians shop; the food in the mini market is 'for tourists' and not so fresh plus too expensive). The Co Op is basically a grocery store with very few brand names, though their generic items seem to be good quality. We got some staples like yogurt, bread, Nutella (one of the few brands), peach jam (Nutella and jam are as close as we can get to peanut butter and jelly in Italy). Inspired by the great beauty around me and the grand expanses, I decided to go for a jog. We've been sort of cooped up in big cities and walled cities, so wide open spaces look so appealing! Greg walked along with the camera and we made our way down a dirt road to an abandoned farm house. Even the vacant buildings are beautiful here. Back on the lawn, the sun was setting, Greg found a guitar (anyone surprised?) in the common room and I practiced some yoga. We had met a few guests already but everyone was doing their own thing, drinking wine and watching the sun set. We made a dinner of pasta from purchased in the nearby town and veggies from the garden and shortly after we heard a knock on our door. We opened it to see Luciano (Carlo's father, who is responsible for the bountiful vegetable garden). Luciano speaks no English, but he was making the universal sign for drink, cupped hand raised to his lips and he said "veranda." We smiled and nodded and decided we better follow. It was about 10 p.m. and Luciano had gathered the majority of the guests who were not exhausted, about ten people, on the patio and proceeded to pour sips of his homemade Grappa (our equivalent of moonshine) and sweet wine he called Vin Santo. Though no one spoke Italian, he managed to learn all of our names and to give us new Italian names (I am Melinda and apparently I'm married to San Gregorio, we always knew he was a saint!) Luciano proceeded to go around the table and figure out what everyone did for a living using charades and my Spanish as an inter-translation (he doesn't speak Spanish, but somehow this works!) Greg was goaded into playing guitar by guests who had overheard his strumming earlier, and before you knew it a table full of strangers were all singing along to Twist and Shout. Luciano had an amazing way of making friends and bringing together a crowd of Americans, Candians (and one Dane) and helping us to get to know one another. A good skill for an Innkeeper, but I think it is more than that. When we met Luciano earlier in the day, he shook our hands with his weathered, rough planting fingers and wanted to learn our names right off. He turned to his daughter-in-law and mentioned something about the group who just left this morning. He said one of the ladies was so sad to leave, she was crying and because she was crying he had cried to. As he recounted the story to Isabella, tears welled up again. Here is a man who makes new friends each week and truly enjoys there company, then at the end of each week, he must say goodbye to these new friends. Yet he is willing to do it all over again. That is a generous spirit with a very big heart. We don't know if Luciano will come knocking on our door every night, or if this is just a special treat for the first day at the farm. We do know if we hear his knock, we will gladly answer and brave the cool night air to sip Grappa and break the language barrier again with our new friend.