E' Arrivato, il Mio Passaporto Italiano !!

It is in my hands. My Italian passport just arrived.

It has been a beautiful journey.
I am no longer Barbara Barrett.

I am once again Barbara Masefield, which is my maiden name.

That's the way they do it in Italy.
I am now a dual citizen of America and Italy.
A new journey has just begun!

Does it Rain in Heaven?

When I was a kid, I imagined heaven to be this place where everybody had wings and halos, and wore long white gowns. I envisioned people all flying around in bliss, high above the clouds where the sun was always shining, and the sky was always blue.

Today, as I was walking through Piazza Annunziata, it started raining. I didn't have my umbrella, so I stopped in the church for protection. Mass was being said, so I participated.

When I left, the clouds were gone. It must rain in heaven because I really believe that's where I am.

San Gimigano's Gran Fondo

Today was another dream-come-true, participating in the Gran Fondo San Gimignano with several team mates, riding through the very best roads that Tuscany has to offer. Lorenzo drove us to San Gimignano. Even though this was a timed race, Rebecca and I rode the course together and we did not race. How can you possibly race through such a wonderland? We rode the 62k rolling course, oohing and aahing the whole way. The day ended with an amazing pastafest after the race, and returned home with another fascinating cyling memory in Tuscany.

The Week Ahead

In the past couple of days I did alot of reading, caught up on the news, and took a test to determine what class I'll be attending when I start school again next Monday at Istituto David. When I was in San Clemente, I applied for and received a scholarship for an intensive one-month Italian language course. I will probably end up in an Intermediate class. So, I'm really looking forward to studying again. I really need it. My Italian really suffered through abstinence while I was away for 3 months.

Last night I met up with Leif, who's a member of the team. He is a sommelier and works for several tour companies, developing and leading bicycle and wine tours throughout Italy. He is one of the great people that I have met here in Florence. We had a great reuinion and caught up on each others' lives. We also spoke about some upcoming possibilites for me to do some bike tour guiding.

I am getting ready for a weekend trip with 18 members of the team to Lake Como where we will climb the Madonna del Ghisallo (pictured left). This important and exceptionally scenic climb is one of the classic climbs of Italian cycling, and part of the course of the Giro di Lombardia. Our course will be over 100K and 2,000 meters of climbing. I am very excited. We'll also have the opportunity to see the Ghisallo museum of Italian cycling. The club has rented a van which will transport all of the bikes and I will catch a ride with someone who has room in their car, all TBD on the day-of. All the women cyclists on the team are going....Rebecca. Rhiannon, Natascha and I. The drive up to Lake Como takes 6 hours, so it will be alot of fun. The weather outlook for Saturday's ride is excellent. Sunny, between 14 and 25C. Can't wait!

Lunch with Barbara's Family

Florence is such a compact city, you don't need to walk very far to find anything. But as I start to reach beyond Florence, I have to learn the bus system and get myself a city bike. Then I'll be more mobile and spontaneous.

Today I went to Barbara's house for Sunday dinner with her family. Our scheduled bike ride this morning was rained out (which was fine with me, being tired after yesterday's Gran Fondo) so instead she invited me over for lunch with her family at her home in Gavinana. It's too far of a walk in the rain, and I don't have a city bike (yet), which would have been ideal...so I have to take the bus. The ATAF website doesn't make it easy to find out what bus takes you where, but I figured it out. I went to the tabaccheria to buy a bus ticket and waited in the rain for the bus. I was there in minutes and felt good to have learned a way of getting around in the rain.

(I can't wait to buy a used, old ugly city bike...you know, the kind you can ride in the rain. The kind you keep locked-up on the street overnight with wide tires, fenders, a chain guard, one gear and a basket on the front. You buy the oldest and ugliest bike you can find, otherwise it won't be there in the morning. It will make life a little easier).

Lunch with Barbara, her 2 children and Alfredo was a great opportunity to get to know her off the bike. We shared a quiet and enjoyable afternoon. After dinner, she helped her children with their homework. It was a family affair, the way it used to be when I was a kid, and they were actually having fun. Despite all the criticism about the Italian school system, the size of the classrooms and the lack of government support of the teaching community, they still teach subjects here that are no longer valued in the American school system. Like history, (real history, like before Christopher Columbus) literature, culture, geography and Latin. Ask any American kid what Latin is and I'm afraid what they might tell you. I think I was the last generation of American students who studied Latin until college. And to me that is a shame. It gave me a profound appreciation of culture that influenced me throughout my life.

On the way back from Barbara's all the tabaccherias where closed so I had to get on the bus without a ticket and nobody stopped me, but I had no choice. I guess I'll have to buy a book of tickets to keep in my purse.

When I got back home to Piazza Salvemini, there was an antique flea market going on where I bargained for some very old pieces of lace that I'm imagining to use under some flower vases and on my kitchen table. I thought about how lucky these children are to be learning Latin. Buona sera.

Gran Fondo Chianciano Terme

Today I rode my first Gran Fondo in Chianciano Terme. It was the most exciting single-day cycling event that I've ever experienced. I've dreamed about this day for years, and today was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Gran Fondo is an Italian institution, which is making its way to America with some modifications. Gran Fondo means long distance or great endurance. These races are usually 160 - 225km long, and usually include a Medio Fondo, which in today's case was 88km. Today's fondo was a licensed, competitve race with a field of thousands. You wear a riding chip around your ankle, you are timed and the results are published. Some Gran Fondos calculate points for time, which then count towards an annual series such as the Granducato. Regardless of the format, all the riders are all skilled, experienced, competent racers.

So, Gran Fondo has some attributes of a century, some attributes of a USCF Race and some attributes of an American long-distance endurance ride. For the most part, American road events are either licensed USCF races (including amateur and Pro categories), amateur centuries and double centuries, amateur endurance rides (such as the Breathless Agony), brevets and ultra-marathon rides. Put the best of these together.....and you've got Gran Fondo.

Most Gran Fondos are as competitive as a USCF road race because they attract dilettanti....elite, pros and ex-pros. There are great rivalries between teams. Unlike a USCF race but more like a century, the field is enormous, there's a mass start, and all categories are mixed together, except that the ladies are permitted to start in the front. But like a USCF race, you have to be licensed, unlike an American century ride which is open to all types of riders. Unlike a USCF race but more like a century, there's a pasta party at the end including wine, prosciutto, cheese, dolce, a free "pacco gara" (goodie bag) including a bottle of local wine and many other local specialty items. And unlike a USCF race, nobody warms up on their trainers before the race and everybody eats and laughs together under the chestnut trees after viewing their results. Doesn't get better than this.

Then you top it off with some of the most stunning scenery in the world and roads that weave through ancient hilltop towns like Pienza and Montepulciano. Thousands of people, excitement in the air, high adrenaline, and the most animated cyclists that I've ever seen anywhere.

It was an extraordinary race start with an energy and atmosphere beyond description. Us women were up front, just behind the starting ribbon. Being my first Gran Fondo, I did alot of observing of how things are done, but you can't really do that when you're up front. Well, being up front was only a momentary experience! Lorenzo warned me that the race starts at a furious pace, and with thousands of riders behind you, I was cautious of making any lateral moves. I was maybe was a little too timid, but having thousands of frenzied cyclists trying to pass you at 25 mph was a pretty new experience for me. I paid strict attention to keeping my line, as those in front are "carrots" for the rabbits... At the top of the first hill, I had a technical problem with my rear brake....my number was wrapped around and was strangling the brake cable. I tried to loosen it while on the bike, but had to stop to fix it. I lost alot of time, and ended up riding solo until I saw Lorenzo in the distance waiting for me.

We rode together for the rest of the race through fantasyland. Being way in the back isn't a fun place to be, but the territory made that feel totally irrelevant. Going through Pienza, Montepulciano, through quintessential wine country, in this, the country that I love, was intoxicating. We showered, changed, returned our chips, checked our results (ugh!) refuled at the pasta party under the chestnut trees eating local cheese, hams and wine, and talked all the way home. I slept well.

Now I know what Gran Fondo is all about. I didn't perform well, but neither was I mentally prepared. Racing is 40% mental attitude, 50% physical conditioning and 10% luck, as one ex-pro used to tell me. I know I can improve a little bit on the physical aspect, but it's the mental conditioning that I know will make all the difference. The next time I will put on my best race face, be more tenacious, and more willing to grit my teeth and endure pain. Isabelle Drake, my dear friend and very accomplished ultra cyclist will be my insipiration.

Reunion with Filippo

Today Filippo and I reunited over lunch at Cibreo. We became friends last September through school. We used to meet every week to help each other with my Italian and his English, and we kept in touch while I was back in San Clemente. We had a great time catching up with each other over lunch today. We both struggled a little for words, since my Italian had become rusty in the last 3 months as did his English, but we ended up only talking Italian.

Later in the day, Filippo invited me to his uncle Tom's house in Mantignano next week to feast on a dinner based only on baccelli (beans that grow inside of pods) and pecorino. It's the season for baccelli. They are almost at full sprout. His best friend Andrea and his wife Sandrine, their newborn infant Anais, Michele, Tania and her children, his sister, brother-in-law and nephew will all be there. I met them the last time that I had dinner at his uncle Tom's in November, when we ate an extraordinary dinner of fresh killed cinghale roasted on the fireplace, made into sausages and used as a soup base for the most glorious minestra I've ever had.

The rest of the afternoon was spent reading a history book on Tuscany, and then in the evening I met Lorenzo at Piazza Beccaria with my bike, so that he could pack it up and have it ready for our trip tomorrow to Chianciano Terme for the Gran Fondo which goes through the heart of Tuscany, through Pienza, Montepulciano, Chiusi, Sarteano and Cetona.

The Door is Wide Open

Being back in Florence is so much easier this time, it really feels like home. It was easy for me to get settled again because I didn't have to learn everything from scratch like the first time around. I know where everything is and how the basic things work or don't work, except that I still can't understand why it takes a month for an Express Mail envelope to get here from the U.S........ And why do they have numbers on the houses, if the numbers are totally out of sequence?

I don't know where I got the patience and endurance to learn and adapt to a whole new way of life the first time. But it all just felt so natural. I must have really wanted it, because nobody in their right mind would have tackled this enormous life transition by themselves like I did. When I look back on how difficult it was the first time, I don't know how I did it, but it was very fulfilling. I made so many mistakes and had to learn by trial and error. I just threw myself in, and learned as I went along. I trusted my instinct. I had nobody to help me or show me the ropes. I didn't read any books. I just took baby steps and allowed each learning experience to lead to the next. And it all worked. And it's working even better this time. I have alot more mistakes to make and things to learn, it will be endless. But each day I grow and learn, and new opportunities open up. As I look further through every doorway, new doors continue to open up. The Door is Wide Open. "La porta e spalancata".

Today, Lia visited me for coffee and dolce and we talked for hours. She taught me some things about serving dolce which I really appreciated. Like you don't serve cenci on the same plate as fragole, which I did! Instinctive, but over time, the artist-cuoca in me will manifest because it's there...it just needs time to be resurrected. Lia works for Florence by Bike and she is the organizer of team ride and social events. She's been a great support to me in finding my place on the team and making my move to Florence a welcome and easier experience.

The Language of Cycling

I realized today that there are no language barriers in this emotional sport of cycling. If you have a passion for the sport, you can ride with almost anyone. Cycling is a language in itself. Maybe that's why I am finding it easier to assimilate into the culture and make new friends, despite my elementary command of the language. When you're riding with a group, body language talks. Stlye talks. Etiquette talks. You can read alot about a person just from the way they ride. You can tell if they're happy, sad, aggressive, mad. Whether they're having a good day, if they're tired, angry, greedy, timid, stressed, sharp, shy, tenacious, extroverted, selfish, considerate, genuine or friendly. Regardless of what language you speak, when you share the passion of the open terrain, when you sweat together, work together, sprint against each other, try to outskill each other, you are simply talking a common language that has no need for words. The group dynamic is something you feel, and cannot describe. You just have to be there. The commuication is invisible. Sometimes you only get a chance to talk to each other at the begining of the ride and at the espresso stop. But that doesn't mean that you aren't talking. That's one of the reasons why I love so much to ride. It is a happy and healthy way to develop a cameradie with people.

Today I rode with 8 team members to Borgo San Lorenzo, for about 56 miles. It was the first time that I saw again David, Giuseppe, Zanobi, Massimo, Filippo and Chris. We rode north through a headwind at the begining...the pace was brisk and the company quickly disappeared, but what could I expect? I was dust in the wind. Lorenzo and Zanobi appeared at the summit to coach me on. Had I known where I was, I would never have expected them to wait for me, but they did. I can't expect to keep up with them, no matter how hard I train. It would be like trying to keep up with the Tuedsay Renegade Ride. For now, I will be happy to roll out with them at the start, and use my Garmin to get me back home.

On the way back I heard someone calling me from the street! "Barbara!!!". I was astonished to see Barbara Livolsi on her city bike, riding home from work at Euro Pass. I met Barbara last year and no sooner did we start becoming friends, that I left here for California. She admitted that she had wondered if I was really coming back to Florence. We immediately made plans to ride together this Sunday. Barbara is a native Italian from Florence. She owns and directs a private Italian Language and Arts school here named Euro Pass. In January she took me for a tour of her school, which attracts foreign students from all over the U.S. and Europe.

Also, today Leif and I talked about some upcoming multi-day bike tours that I might be interested in guiding, including itineraries to Radda in Chianti and Siena. I am thrilled to have this opportunity and will be speaking to him further in the next few days to discuss training and logistics!

I am looking forward to my first Gran Fondo this Saturday.

Concerto per l'Abruzzo al Mandela Forum diretto da Zubin Mehta

What a switch. 6 days ago I was wearing plaid shorts, a tee shirt and flip flops in San Clemente. Today I wore my boots, jeans, leather jacket, scarf and umbrella. It seems is has been raining here since I left. Good news for the porcini and chestnuts this year!

It's Monday. I've been back in Florence for 3 days and I'm quickly acclimating. This morning I met Lucia, who was my language tutor here last year. We chatted over a caffe, and I started to feel my Italian starting to flow a little easier once again. We caught up on each other's lives and then we walked to Esselunga, where I familiarized myself with another local supermarket.

Tonight, Rebecca and I attended the Concert for the earthquake victims in Abruzzo, which was quite a touching experience. We had a good long walk there and back, and enjoyed getting to know each other better.

Rebecca is one of the ladies on the bike squad. She, another woman Rhiannon and I are planning a 3 day trip to Sorrento with our bikes, to follow Stage 19 of the Giro d'Italia, up Mount Vesuvius next month.

Today I spoke with Lorenzo and arranged to participate in my first Gran Fondo, which is coming up this Saturday. Click here! GRAN FONDO CITTA'DI CHIANCIANO TERME I will probably do the Medio Fondo, since it's my first time around! Can't wait!

I don't want to get into this habit, but on my way home from the concert, I Ghibellini was still open, so I took home a pizza Margherita con basilico. My excuse is that I hadn't eaten all day, except for a pannino and surely earned the calories, walking back and forth to Campo di Marte twice today.

Buona notte.

More Nesting

I woke up at 12 noon to the sound of the Duomo bells. It is Sunday in Florence. I was up all night arranging my clothes, books, supplies. Moving furniture around this way and that. Deciding what kind of curtains I might buy for the 4 enormous windows in my bedroom and kitchen…..I think white lace would be soft, romantic and yet transparent enough to allow the plants on the terrace and the sun to shine through.

I've woken up late, so now I get to prepare my first macchinetta di espresso. How simple, yet elegant it feels to prepare the macchinetta and wait for the pungent aroma of the espresso to fill the air.

I am amazed how quickly my Italian is all coming back to me. I can't wait to start school again on May 4th. I took a walk through Santa Croce and visited the chiesa.

Angella and I had dinner together at Ristorante Natalino where we got to know each other better….I had a delightful Spaghettini con gambieri e carcioffi and we shared a bottle of Morellino di Scansano.

When I returned to my apartment, I realized that I had forgotten to buy witch hazel to remove my makeup. So I gazed in the mirror, wondering what to do. Olive oil!! The cupboards are still empty…..but there's plenty of olive oil.

As I turned on the lamp next to my bed, the fixture shorted out, causing the circuit to blow. I was in the dark. I tried to trip the switch on the main fuse box, but it didn't work. No light. So I went to bed and decided that I'll figure it out tomorrow. Buona notte.

Homecoming Ride

As I opened the shutters to my bedroom window, the gray clouds hung low in the sky and the pigeons were flying above, suggesting rain. If this was San Clemente, I might just wait until the following day for a bike ride, but here, you take a gamble, your windbreaker, and "si fa gli scongiuri" (keep your fingers crossed). You might not get another chance to ride for days if you wait for the perfect day. I was excited to ride with my new group again. I called Rebecca to make sure that the pending rain would not stop her from riding, and set out to meet her.

The streets were quiet and empty on an early Saturday morning. Everyone sleeps late here, digesting their late-night dinners and wine. As I navigated the shaky, dangerous, uneven cobblestone obstacle course, I felt that same thrilling sensation akin to dodging taxis and busses in New York City. There's something about that feeling that you can't really explain. Kind of like being a sneaky little kid on a skateboard.

I headed through Piazza Santa Croce to Ponte alle Grazie (the bridge next to the Ponte Vecchio) and rode along the Arno to Piazza Poggi….and there I could see Rebecca awaiting me in the distance. We shared homecoming hugs and smiles and I felt animated and happy to see her. A minute later, Lorenzo appeared with Niccola, and together we climbed the ramps to Piazza Michelangelo and headed for Tavanuzze to meet the rest of the squad. A half hour later upon arriving in Tavarnuzze, the clouds had become increasingly threatening and nobody else showed up. So we played it by ear and modified the course to try to avoid the rain clouds.

We climbed up to San Casciano, through the vineyards and magnificent Tuscan landscape. I was feeling strong, but was afraid that my jet lag would soon take over. I knew my body was exhausted, but my passion drove me excitedly up every hill. As I gazed at my Garmin, I realized it was still set on Pacific Time and displayed miles, not kilometers. It was hard to believe that it was just a few days ago that I was riding my last ride with dear Susan in San Clemente.

We added an extra climb and then headed back to Florence, for a total trip of 53 miles, where we stopped for a caffe at Piazza Michelangelo. Seeing again the glorious sight of Florence from the top of the hill sent chills up my spine. As Lorenzo rode back home with me, I stopped by the outdoor flower market to say hello to Giovanni, the animated little flower vendor who often gives me free bunches of sunflowers. It felt great to see him again…another familiar face on my street.

The moment I entered my apartment, the sky opened up and it started to pour. Perfect timing. And a good excuse to spend the rest of the day nesting, unpacking and cleaning, while watching the ongoing news of the aftermath of the Abruzzo earthquake. Then I watched my favorite show, "L'eredita" with Carlo Conti.

My wireless internet, which was not working when I got here yesterday, suddenly came back to life.

I did a wash. It continues to amaze me that Italian washing machines are so small, yet it takes 2 hours to accomplish a single washing cycle. Then I hung my clothes to dry on the drying rack in my bedroom, since it was raining outside.

It is evening. I have spent the whole afternoon unpacking and nesting. My fridge is quite empty, I am hungry, it's almost 11pm, and Standa, the local supermarket is closed. I guess I have no choice other than to take a short 20 pace stroll to I Ghibellini to order a pizza Margherita "portare via" (to go). The street side tables are outside again, not the way I left them in January, all stored inside for the winter. The restaurant owners recognized me and we talked about the soccer game as I awaited my pizza. It was raining and the air was filled with the smell of cigarette smoke. Whoever thinks the Italians have stopped smoking is wrong.

My legs got a good workout today. The ride was hilly, and the 4 flights of 52 stairs to my apartment is a workout in itself. Especially when you're carrying a bike.

I stayed up very late…until 3:00 AM, unpacking, sorting, organizing…..getting settled…..feeling like only good things are in store for me here in Florence!

Buona notte.

First Day Here

I woke up early. I know that I'm jet lagged but I was too excited to sleep. Besides, Charlene just happens to be in Florence just for today, and I wanted to see her right away.

After Charlene visited me this morning, I turned on my TV (all 6 channels worth) to observe the sad, dominating news detailing the aftermath of the earthquake in L'Aquila. The Italians are disappointed by the lack of financial support from both the government and the Vatican. The destruction is partly blamed on the lack of adherence to building codes, driven by bribes and inside pay-offs….such corruption is widespread in Italy. Only a week after the disaster, the 3 Mafias are already driving in their construction bosses in an attempt to dominate and control the restoration process. I hope they can be squished out.

Monday night there will be a fund raising concert for L'Aquila, at the Nelson Mandela Forum (Florence's equivalent of Madison Square Garden), and I'll see who wants to come with me. The orchestra will be conducted by Zubin Mehta.

I then hurried off to the bike shop to say hello to Lia, Andrea and Filippo,and to pick up my club jersey and racing license. It was a great reunion! While in the shop, Niccola called, anxious to see me, and we agreed to meet at my apartment an hour later. I hurried home to see him. Another happy reunion with big hugs and welcome sentiments.

Then I went to the market to stock up on light bulbs, paper towels and other supplies. The streets felt so good and so familiar.

On my way to dinner with Charlene I gazed at the shoes in the stores and realized that I had taken about 20 pair of shoes with me, yet not a single one could compare in quality and design. I had dinner with Charlene and Kelly, it was great to catch up with such a good friend.

When I returned to my apartment, I received an e-mail from Roberto…he received my dual passport and is sending it to me today!

Excited about tomorrow's ride, I dusted up my Colnago which has been sitting, unused, in my apartment for the last 3 months...it still looks as classic and elegant as it did 14 years ago and with its triple ring, it will carry me well up the Ghisallo and Vesuvio next month. I pumped up the tires, lubed the chain, checked out the brakes and shifters. Glossed her up a bit with furniture polish and rubbed olive oil into the saddle. And then dreamed of riding tomorrow among the Tuscan hills in Chianti with my new Italian cycling friends.

I went to bed and set the alarm. I draped Bren and daddy's rosaries on my headboard next to the "contra malocchio" that someone had given me in Calabria 2 years ago to ward off the evil eye! I peacefully fell asleep while thinking how good it feels this time. I am feeling a real sense of home here. And I’m happy….I say a prayer for my friends who I miss tremendously. And I fall asleep. Buona notte.

On My Way Back to Florence

Like a whirlwind, my three months in San Clemente flew by. Again, I allowed the magnets of life to determine my direction. No pretenses, no preconceived ideas. Just let it happen.

Returning to San Clemente was in fact traumatic. It took me almost a month to bounce back from the abrupt change in the energy, the landscape and the mood. I was stunned, almost frozen. It took me a while to defrost.

I had worried during my absence if my dear friends from home would still be my friends….would they still be there? Or would distance and time prove otherwise? Is it true "out of site, out of mind"? Would I be disappointed? In the process, I achieved more clarity. My relationships became more defined, more selective. The good ones got better. The other ones melted. This helped me to understand myself and my alliances better, to become more certain and directed about my own identity and my own future. I bonded more strongly with certain special friends and lost some others that had been ambiguous. I achieved the clarity I needed to return to Florence without doubts.

And what did fate have in store for me?

Little did I ever expect my Italian dual citizenship to materialize so quickly. What should have taken at least 2 years to happen, happened in record time. It was simply meant to be. With all 14 documents in hand, 3 weeks ago, I went to NYC to obtain apositilles, and only days later Roberto called me with the exciting news…..Department of Homeland Security….INS verified that Great Grandpa Mazzella never became an American citizen.

According to Italian immigration law, this means that I've been an Italian citizen since birth, but never knew it. That simple.

Like a spreading fire, the rest happened within the 2 following weeks. I filed my application for citizenship, and despite a 9 month waiting list for an appointment with the Italian Consulate, I was "slipped in" for a meeting on March 31st. In the meantime, I hurriedly changed my name, got a new American passport, produced the Supreme Court Order Name Change document from 1932 that was uncovered through a relative of a relative, and on the afternoon of March 31st, Roberto called me from the 5 Freeway with the joyous news that my application had been approved!

Now what? I am a dual American/Italian citizen. I'm stunned, I'm shocked. I’m packing my bags. I'm saying my final goodbyes to my precious friends. I'm riding my bike one last time in San Clemente and it's environs. I'm gazing at the beauty of the southern California landscape as every possible shrub and flower and mustard plant are bursting with life in the foreground of the endless blue Pacific Ocean whose waves are furiously crashing in front of me. California has never looked so bright, so splendid, so colorful. Why am I leaving this perfect, predictable lifestyle for a life that's emotionally and physically arduous, simple, humble, difficult?

Easter at Brenda's….8 couples and Barbara! My friends from OCW….who have seen me through ups, downs, happiness and trouble….were all there, just like before. Was this to be my last American Easter? If I were in Florence, I would be spending la Pasqua at Niccola's villa in Siena against the verdant Tuscan landscape, feasting on a whole lamb cooked on the fireplace in his cellar. I received a shocker of a quilt from Donna and Kent to keep me warm in my Florence bed, and rosary beads from Brenda to keep me in God's hands. My friends saw me off with love. Much love.

And then Tuesday night I spent with my dearest girlfriends. Why am I leaving this? I love them so much. What mixed emotions. And here I am packing my things…. with no idea of when I'll return.

As I pack my bags, my return to Florence takes on a more serious note. What to do? Just let the flow predict the outcome.

My bags are packed. Why did I take my winter clothes? It's not even summer yet. Meg and Harry take me to the airport, but we first stop by Donna and Kent's for one last hug. Meg gives me rosary beads that used to be daddy's.

I am wondering if this time Florence will be different. The last time there were no expectations….and everything fell into place. This time I know what to expect. Now I am a citizen. Now I belong. Now I have to find my place and my work.....and perhaps start a business. I'm not a student, not a tourist. Florence is my address. This is not a dream. Will it work? Or is this just a fantasy?

I boarded my flight on Air France. It was a little disorienting to fly to Italy while listening to everything in French for 18 hours. I started reading Gomorrah, but after 4 chapters, decided this is not the Italy I want to read about. I closed the book, went to sleep, woke up in Paris and changed planes to Florence.

A couple of hours later, as my plane descended, it was dark and raining in Florence.

As I went through customs, an official asked me what was in the heavy box. I tried to explain that it was a bike trainer. He didn't really understand, but he said with a confused smile "Vai...Va bene!".

Angella was there, waiting for me outside customs. I was tired but excited. We drove to my apartment and dragged all 200 lbs.of my luggage up 52 steep stairs. I opened the door. Wow. I was back in my apartment and everything was just the way I left it in January. The first thing I did was to try to get my computer up and running, but wireless internet was down. And come on, it's time to go to bed. I'm pooped.

Will I be happy here again? I am tired. Buona notte.

My Last Day Here

2:00 pm It's raining gently in Firenze. The hours are ticking away. The church bells dominate the spooky silence of the streets which are now emptied of tourists. It's quiet...the Christmas lights are gone. This is the real Florence. I just returned from the bike store to say goodbye to everyone and to pick up my club jersey. I love these people. As I walked back home in the gentle rain, I could only think of my thirst to return.

It is now 8:30 pm. Nicola just stopped by to sign our lease. Like an angel out of heaven...how could he have known? He brought me a little present....La Scala's DVD production of "Il Trittico". (with Cappuccilli, Martinucci, Sass and Pons). And the first thing he said...."this is the best "O Mio Bambino Caro" ever sung. How could he have known? Again the voice came, just like it did with Lucia. Clearly a sign from heaven. From the moment I arrived in Italy....until my very parting hour, these are the "signs" and little miracles that have happened to me. It is clear that my life here has only just begun.

End of Chapter One

I am slowly decompressing at the moment....slowly transitioning and preparing myself for the shock that may be about to hit me. I will be in San Clemente on Friday night. These last few days have been a time of pensive reflection...trying to sum up my experience, make some decisions about my life... My life continues to evolve. Visions are clear, but it seems to take so long to get where I want to be. And I am still in the process of definition.

Four months have passed. My life has changed. It is seeming that Italy has become a big part of my destiny. And where do I go from here?

From the moment I arrived, the little pieces of the puzzle started to come together by themselves, little by little, each one fitting snugly against the other...there are still many pieces left to fill in...without which this picture will not be complete....but the focus has become more clear.

I found my roots in Lacco Ameno, and uncovered the 150 year old birth documents of my great-grandparents which has consequently evolved into a quest for my dual Italian citizenship. There in Ischia, in the process of spending so many intimate moments in self reflection in its waters, in its churches, excavations, beaches and on the top of its volcano, I came to a more profound understanding not only of where I came from, but where I have to go from here.

In Firenze, I found a new and cozy home, which I could not bear to leave after 3 months, and so I arranged to stay for another year. I've gone to school and have developed a sufficient level of fluency to get along pretty well...but have a strong passion to continue this learning process. It appears that my thirst for Italy cannot be quenched.

While I was here, I made friends with Filippo, Lucia, Nicola's family, Giancarlo in Napoli, and Maria, Franco, Celeste and William in Ischia. And I deepened my friendship with Cynthia. These friendships will last forever.

I also joined a bike team, obtained my Italian racing license and made some dear new cycling friends....Rebecca, Rhiannon, Lorenzo, Leif and Lia in particular, and so many other new riding comrades with whom I ride every weekend. Together, we will participate in many cycling events this season, including a weekend road trip to climb the Madonna del Ghisallo, excursions to various Granfondo rides, and plans to follow several stages of the 2009 Giro d'Italia, most notably a 3 day trip to follow Stage 17 along the Amalfi Coast and up Monte Vesuvio.

It was also suggested that there may be an opportunity to work here in Tuscany as a bike tour guide upon my return this spring.

While I was here, I was visited by friends from afar....Lori, Fred, Donna and Kent from Orange County, Charlene from Napa Valley, Erma from Chicago, and Claudio from Brooklyn. Which all made me wonder what a diverse life I've had, and how so many people have contributed to my identity, experiences, and my future.

And I finally really discovered Napoli...a city that I've only passed through before, holding onto my purse in the train station, afraid of being accosted, on my way to the Amalfi Coast or Capri... due to it's reputation of being a chaotic, dirty and unsafe environment. But there in Napoli, I discovered just the opposite. I reveled in the beauty of the most overwhelming, abundant city on earth....a city of ironic contrasts, with an energy, a people, and a stunning beauty that no other city in the world can compete with. If I could pick the ultimate place to live, this would be it. The only thing I would add is good cycling roads. But for now, Firenze.

The biggest thing I've learned here, is to trust my gut better, for it has never failed me...

In 2 days I will be leaving, with 2 empty suitcases, leaving my clothes and bike behind here,with the intention to bring back more of my belongings when I return back here in a couple of months. I am on my way to see friends and family in San Clemente where I will work on the dual citizenship process and where I will make some difficult decsions that will affect the continuing story of my life, both inside and outside of Italy.

As I leave Firenze I wonder what destiny has in store for me. I am listening and ready to follow this voice that gets stronger and stronger from within.

Christmas in the South

On Sunday, December 20th, I found myself on the EuroStar train heading south from Florence to Napoli. A last minute change in holiday plans allowed me connect with Giancarlo Rizzi in Napoli, with whom I spent a splendid two days taking in the endless energy and beauty of this most dynamic, antique, stimulating city. It is easy to understand why I revel so much in the feeling of my Napoletan roots....this is a people who are always smiling, singing, dancing, with a swing in their walk, whose eyes are vibrant and whose passion is expressed in their endless love of life, loving and friendship. To me, this is the sexiest city on earth

Christmastime in Napoli is something special...the presepi, the outdoor music, festivals, the lights, the fireworks...the profumo of cibo everywhere, the parades, the rituals, the masses., the sfougliatelli! All of Napoli comes out for days before and after Christmas to delight in the passion that swallows up this city of diverse contrasts.

Giancarlo, along with his mom and friends, welcomed me with open arms. Together we took in several museums, the underground excavations, numerous churches and castellos, as well as having dined with his mamma, whose food was something out of my grandmother's kitchen....brasiole, panzerotti, carcofi, melanzane, meatballs and.....her true work of art.....struffoli! On the second night we dined with his friends...4 couples with whom I made an instant connection. The next day, we visited his beach house in Pozzuoli and had mussels and wine on the sand before dropping me off at the ferry which I would then take to Ischia....where I would spend my Christmas with Maria, Franco, Celeste and William.

Christmas in Ischia
As Giancarlo saw me off at Pozzuoli, I boarded the ferry to Cassamicola, Ischia, where Maria was to meet me. I spent the hour ferry ride re-living every moment of that day last September when I first traveled to Ischia in search of my great-grandparents' birthplace and birth records. Ischia has drawn me back to its shores, to its sea, to its people. I was on my way back again to Ischia to celebrate the festivities with the family of Maria, who I met in Lacco Ameno during my search last September.

To Be Continued (just haven't had time to write)

Visiting the Medico Sportivo

Today, Lorenzo, the captain of the bike racing team, drove me to the Medico Sportivo (Sports Doctor) to undergo tests that would enable me to obtain my racing license. Italy is very strict in its licensing requirements, not like in the U.S. where anybody can buy a race license just by paying a fee. Here, the USIF (the national organization that governs cycling racing) requires that in order to obtain your license, you must pass a stress test and a drug test, and be in overall good health. If you have any health issues, impaired vision or history of illness, you cannot get your license. Joining the team and getting my license must mean that I am staying here in Firenze. I never really thought it out strategically, and like everything else, all the pieces are falling into place by themselves. I am building a new life without even thinking about it. Well, going for my license is definitely a commitment, at least in Euros! We drove south of Florence for a half hour through country backroads and arrived at the doctor's office. The doctor looked like an Italian Albert Einstein.....he had long, curly gray hair and he stared at me in a wondering way. After all the tests, I got a clean bill of health, and should receive my official Italian racing license within a few weeks. Viva la squadra!

Christmas Dinner with the Bike Club

Tonight I shared an animated celebration of the Christmas season together with new cycling friends in this little trattoria on the back streets of Santa Croce. It was heartwarming to feel so accepted in this intimate group of local riders with whom I've been sharing so many new cycling adventures. What's really hard to believe is that here I am, so different from every one of these men....they have all shared decades of cameraderie and friendship together...none of them speak English....and yet I am accepted, feel comfortable, and am loving every minute of it.

Much of the conversation tonight focused on the squad's program for 2009, including an organized trip to climb the Ghisallo in early May, as well as trips together to follow several of the stages of this year's Giro d'Italia.

To My Loved Ones.....Buon Natale

L'Elisir d'Amore

Going to the opera here is a double treat, as the audience is almost as entertaining as the opera itself. Tonight's audience was a much younger crowd than usual, since this is one of the more playful, light and romantice operas, senza drama. It's very refreshing to see Italian teenagers enjoying the opera, so tastefully dressed alla moda. The performance was excellent, but everytime I see L'Elisir, I reminisce back to the greatest one I ever saw, in '94 starring the best Nemorino of all times, Luciano Pavarotti.

Time in Chianti with Cynthia

I spent a splendid two days at Cynthia's in Tavaranelle, spent mostly talking about old times in Staten Island, our lives, our families, our loves, and our reasons for being in Italy. Over the years, Cynthia has been one of the many people who have shared this common passion for Italy. Our time started with lunch in San Casciano at La Trattoria del Pesce, where the octopus was especially memorable and the conversation very nostalgic. I spent the night at her house, where I played with her children as I watched her cook gnocchi and a wonderful wine infused lamb. This morning we took a drive to Barberino to pick up Julia from gymnastics and then we re-assembled with her family at a little trattoria in Tavarnelle for a lunch of cozze and orata. Cynthia then brought me to her favorite designer shoe outlet, where I couldn't resist buying a sexy pair of Nero Giardini boots. After driving me back to Firenze, I ended the day at a Santa Lucia feast at Piazza della Republica. Firenze is all dressed up for Christmas...the air is cold, we're all wearing scarves and gloves...and the millions of Christmas lights are a stark contrast to the 1,000 year-old buildings.

Had another great lesson with Lucia, went to the palestra for another dramatic workout, finally bought a metric measuring cup so I can start getting my cooking proportions right, did some Chritmas shopping, studied for a couple of hours, and then Nicola came over with a plumber. I was having problems with the heat....I was freezing, the heat wasn't working. It got me scared because the apartment was so cold. I couldn't imagine spending a winter wearing boots in the house....Well, Nicola and the plumber just left. I learned that all I had to do was to turn up the hot water tank. Phew! Then got a note from Leslie, my friend from Chicago who lives in San Diego during the winter. I met her in my Italian class at the ICC. She knows Erma from Chicago! What a small world. Tomorrow after my lesson I am going to Cynthia's and will spend the afternoon with her and her children, doing some Christmas shopping and then will stay over her place for the night. Time is flying. Can't believe I'll be back in San Clemente in less than a month.

Joining the Bike Team

How can I resist any longer? The bike team leaders have been encouraging me to get my UISP license so that I can officially join them before the year is over, because they have to submit all the paperwork to the UISP. I've been reluctant, as I don't want to race. But I learned that I need the license if I want to participate in Granfondo with the team. And....have I've been wanting to do Granfondo... like big-time! So I decided to go ahead with it. Which means I have to go to a special doctor for a stress test, physical, and drug test. Lorenzo, who heads up the team, offered to drive me to the doctor next Thursday and he will help me fill out all the forms.

Ride to Cereto Guidi

Today is a national holiday, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, so the ride was on, despite the cold weather. Today's ride made me reflect about how brave I once was, to ride in NYC weather that was significantly colder than today, all decked out with goggles, electric socks and a facemask. But no more. Today's weather dictated my new limit. Upon leaving my apartment it was only 30F and I don't think it ever hit 40F. The roads were slick, the vineyards were covered with ice, and we had to do a flat ride in order to avoid any dangerous, icy descents. I wore 5 layers of clothes, which still wasn't enough to keep me warm and my feet froze, even with booties on. Even so, we covered 90K, and I bonked and cramped up at around 70K. The guys all took turns giving me a little "push" to get me back home before I passed out. Now, this I didn't mind at all....but sure felt silly....I haven't bonked like this since climbing the Continental Divide in Colorado, or was it Utah with Susan T.? It took about an hour for my toes and fingers to defrost when I got back. There were only 8 riders today. The smart ones stayed in bed.

After eating more pasta than I deserved, I wondered how a country that is so good for my soul could be so bad for my body. I'm sadly out-of-shape and anxiously await the opportunity to ride in San Clemente.

I also received today, a note from Debbie Myers, with photos of the OCW girls making quilts together, in anticipation of Christmas. It was sweet, and made me miss some very special people.

This will be a very new and different Christmas for me. The streets are filled with a wonderful Christmas feeling, which is actually complemented by the cold weather.

I will be back in San Clemente exactly one month from today.

Ride to Regello

The number of riders is diminishing as the weather gets colder...today's ride started at 32 degrees and only warmed up to about 43. Nevertheless, we counted on a couple of good climbs to keep us toasty, and the stop for an espresso didn't hurt either! It felt great to get out on the bike again after 2 weeks of nasty weather!

Working it Out

My relentless 3 month search to find something that remotely resembles a health club had become a source of frustration and culture shock that I was reluctant to accept. I almost resigned myself to becoming a prosciutto. But after trying every health club in Florence, I’ve finally had to make some big-time adjustments.

I’m finally accepting the fact that a health club is as un-Italian as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The Italian health club is a “palestra”…this is a room filled with slick, shiny, brand new equipment that doesn’t work and machines that are designed for some species other than the human being. These machines force your joints into dangerously contorted angles that can inflict more damage on ligaments and muscles than good. How is it possible that a country capable of producing the genius of Michelangelo and Brunelleschi can’t produce an ergonomically designed machine? I believe…it’s not that they can’t…it’s that they don’t want to.

I've pondered the why's and have come up with a few theories, including the fact that this culture doesn’t see the point in unnecessary pain and sweat, and they don’t like to be controlled by machines. It threatens their freedom of expression, and forces them to restrict the movement of their hands. Asking an Italian to keep his hands on the bars of a machine for ½ hour is like asking an American to put a gag in his mouth.

The Palestra is a quiet, empty place that nobody goes to. It’s always empty, with a little old man sitting behind a counter, reading or talking to a neighbor, passing the time away. But today, I discovered a little palestra, hidden in a back alley that nobody knows about except the shop keepers, less than 100 meters from my apartment.

When at lunchtime the shops close down, this Palestra comes to life. As the women boisterously pour into the locker room, the drama instantly begins as the room is transformed into a piazza, where more calories are burned in their furious conversation than in the aerobics class. For a half hour the women noisily exchange recipes, complain out loud about everything… their fatigue, their work and their husbands. Everyone talks at the same time, nobody seems to be listening to each other, yet they are communicating. Everyone is yelling, laughing, lamenting, groaning, crying, talking on their cell phones out loud…you don’t know who is listening to who, you can’t distinguish one conversation from the other…yet everyone knows what everyone is saying. Then at once, they all barge out of the room, and onto the dance floor. The excitement begins.

Party time. The music goes on and the room is transformed into some combination of a 1970's Jane Fonda/Richard Simmons aerobics class....but with a passionate Italian energy that is contagious. I actually had fun, and eventually broke a sweat. When we got down for the floor exercises I was amazed at the sounds, the dramatic grunts of pain, the panting, the superlative expressions of exhaustion, the tears, the groans and sighs. We in America would never let our guard down. We swallow the pain and keep a straight face. But here, no feeling is ever hidden. If they feel pain, they express it, they exaggerate it, they dramatize it. The very essence of the Italian spirit that I've been yearning to reincorporate into my life.

After the class we all headed back to the locker room, where everyone was anguished, gasping for breath, unashamedly exhausted, and as everyone stripped down and took showers, I admired how they walked around the locker room unabashedly naked, demonstrating a shameless acceptance of their imperfect bodies...nothing to be hidden....nothing perfect....and nothing...nothing fake here. There's a certain cameraderie and bond that comes along with being nakedly honest in front of your friends. And one of the things that I love so much about Italy.

Baby Food

Everyday I seek to learn some new vocabulary by browsing the shops and markets, reading labels, and conversing with the shop owners...always picking up new and interesting cultural knowledge along the way. Today I focused on the supermercato, where I spent some extra time browsing the shelves to learn about some of the more unfamiliar food products....when I came upon.... Tuscan baby food! Here it is! They don't have to wait to have a full set of teeth to enjoy their prosciutto! Priceless!!

Just an Ordinary Day

Today marked a milestone for me, as it was the first day in which I didn't utter a single word or think a single thought in English (until now.) It started with a caffe at the local pasticcerria while scanning today's La Republica, followed by a fascinating lesson with Lucia in which I learned il tempo passato remoto within the context of a short biography of Leonardo da Vinci and a study of his "L'Ultima Cena".

Then I met my conversation buddy Filippo and Ksenia, his girlfriend who is visiting him from Russia for the holidays... for pranzo over an animated conversation in a Tuscan trattoria in centro. Ksenia has been offered a one year internship to work for HSBC's London based Private Banking division and the discussion revolved around the the all-too-common female struggle between deciding whether to follow one's career dreams or to settle down with the man she loves....and is there a balance? Can you do both, without sacrificing these sometimes conflicting values? I could feel the struggle they are facing in their new relationship and felt like a counselor, telling my story and hoping that they could get some value from it. My realtionship with Filippo is evolving into a friendship to be treasured...I am truly finding some special people here. I feel blessed.

Then I walked to the government office of the Comune di Firenze, to pick up a very important document...my "Codice Fiscale"... that I've been waiting to receive for 10 weeks! This document is the Italian equivalent of a Social Security Number. I am finally "official" here!

Then I returned to my apartment to cope with a clogged drain in the bathroom which innundated the bathroom with a flood of water. I am definitely "adjusting" to the "system", and getting used to the nuanaces of living in a 600 year old building!

Finally, this evening, I went out with a new friend, for opening night at "Quantobasta", http://www.quantobasta.eu/ where I danced all night and enjoyed with tremendous gusto and passion, the people, the food, the ambience, and the feeling of being a part of this culture.

My experience living in Italy has been another step towards self-discovery and actualization. I arrived in Firenze 3 months ago. Besides Cynthia, I didn't know anyone or how anything works here.  I was afraid of making this dream come true...some dreams are meant to be dreams....why take the risk of letting your bubble burst? From the moment I arrived, it all seemed so natural.. Tonight I realized how far I've come. And how well I'm just melting into the culture. And how I never expected to meet so many wonderful people who want me to stay.

Dinner with Nicola's Family

I had a delightful evening tonight at the home of Nicola, in San Casciano, the birth town of Machiavelli, high on a hilltop just outside of Firenze. Nicola is my landlord....but feels more like family. He and his wife Nicoletta (who, as I do, share a passion for opera) are a happy, beaming, warm and loving, artsy but conservative couple who have two adorable children and a small and intimate 500 year old apartment in centro San Casciano. Nicoletta prepared an outrageous meal....lasagne, beef carpaccio rolatini stuffed with artichokes, mortadella and cheese, potatoes and a wonderful chocolate torta. I must be doing pretty well with my Italian to have not uttered a word of English all night long. I am feeling more and more comfortable every day.

One week ago I discontinued going to school full time because I was overdosing from too much "grammar" and not enough practical conversation. So, instead, I increased my time with Lucia... who is now coming to my apartment on a daily basis for private lessons. Lucia is also something special...not only is she a great teacher, but she is also becoming a friend. I am very lucky.

It's really cold now, and it rained all day. There are times when I really struggle with feelings of missing my sister, friends and loved ones.... in California. Today was one of them. I don't want to lose them, but I don't want to give this up either. I just feel so "at home" here...so comfortable and natural. Florence is the perfect combination of city and country....it has so much to offer, yet it is compact and very manageable for a city. Italy has accepted me in a way that I didn't really expect. Especially being a woman, at my age....I didn't know if it would "click"....I considered it an experiment....but the experiment is feeling more like the road to a new life. I don't know how this will end....or if it will end...I only know that I am discovering many beautiful people and emotions and a spiritual peace that makes me sing.

Ride to Greve, Strada and Mercatale

Today about 24 people showed up, and I was l'unica donna! I didn't anticipate how cold it would be and froze my toes off! The vineyards were outstandingly beautiful and we passed by several renowned wine estates, such as Gabbiano. Thinking of all the clothes that I didn't take with me, and wonder if I should just go back to California as planned, so I can return sooner with more clothes in time for the really cold weather and take care of the paperwork that needs to be filed for my dual citizenship. It was too cold to stop for photos! http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/invitation/dashboard.mb?episodePk.pkValue=7189981

Ride to Strada in Chianti

Word has it that the 2009 Giro d'Italia will include a stage starting in Florence! This was the big topic of conversation on the road today! The hotels are already booking up, and the local cycling community is anxiously awaiting the final word.

Florence is only a train ride away from several of the proposed stages, including Lerici, Bologna, Padova and Milano, Benevento, Mount Vesuvius, Avellino and Napoli! What a great time to be living in Firenze!

Today's ride took us through Chianti, to Strada. The vineyards have turned bright gold...the weather is really starting to get cold. And most of my winter cycling clothes are in California?

"Tutto" Doesn't Always "Va Bene" !

I still don't know how to say "shit happens" in Italian, but it's on my list.

Of course, things do go wrong. Statistically, they must. In spite of the fact that Italy is fitting me like a glove, or more like a silk stocking, I will tell you about 3 "shit happens" experiences that have occured to me since I've been here - and how the two big ones became miraculously resolved.

1. I've gone through four macchinettas already! Can't get used to making espresso on the stove. I walk away for a minute and the pot spits coffee all over the kitchen. This time I caught it just in time to avert another complete rubber handle melt-down. Resolution: Don't leave the room. They don't call it "espresso" for nothing.

2. A month ago, I lost my wallet. Credit cards, drivers license, cash. I filed a report at the Carabinieri, the American Embassy, and of course, had to order all new credit cards. Non problema. I can't believe how calm I was. I didn't get the least bit upset, a sure sign of old age. The people I told about it were more upset about it than I was. Resolution: My wallet was recently found on a train in Piombino and it was turned in to the Carabinieri on the island of Elba (How did it get there?? Non lo so.) Nothing was missing....not a Euro. The wallet was delivered to me today.

3. I had a bad experience at the local Palestra. They charged my bank 168 Euro for one session, instead of 12 Euro! I approached them twice calmy, eventually spoke to the owner, but they refused to reimburse me. Upon realizing that the owners were obsinate thieves, I just "let it go". Forget it. I have too much to do and can't waste my time polluting the positive energy that is all around me. Resolution: In a casual conversation with Filippo, (my conversation buddy who is a lawyer here in Florence) I told him about the experience. Filippo told me to give him my bank statement and receipt. He wrote a letter to the Palestra, and today, at our conversation meeting, Filippo surprised me with a reimbursement check from the owner.

Ok, so what does this mean? Che significa? How did these last 2 issues become resolved on the exact same day? It's the positive energy that's winning out for me here. And somebody's looking over my shoulder.

A New Friend

Leif is one of the leaders of the Firenze Bike Club...I joined him last evening for an apertivo at Sei Divino, where Rebecca's paintings are on exhibit (Rebecca is the woman who rented my apartment before me) and got to know a new friend. Leif works as a tour guide for several bike touring companies in Tuscany, and is a lifetime "all-around" cyclist who's done everything from time trial racing to loaded touring, to mountain and road biking...etc. We talked completely in Italian and felt good that I could actually communicate on a social level. It is much easier for me to talk Italian with one person, rather than in a group conversation, because a one-on-one conversation is slower and more relaxed. Leif suggested that once I get to know the roads here, I could perhaps become a tour guide too. Wow. I'm thinking of taking a pause from school to digest all the grammar I've learned, and spend more time riding, getting back into shape and taking advantage of other more practical ways to practice what I've learned so far. But continue my lessons with Lucia and my meetings with Filippo.

Ride to Tavarnelle

Today's 90k ride was a blast....It seems that Sunday is the day that everyone comes out. We passed through quintessential Chianti country and I wish I could have stopped to take photos, especially on the climbs, which were tough, but beautiful. There were thousands of cyclists out today, everywhere. I'm a perfect match for this group...they are friendly, passionate, always looking out for each other, with a strong sense of cameraderie and family. They're kind of like big men who are out there having fun like little boys. Each ride feels like a playful adventure. My Italian is coming along too slowly...I am constantly searching for words to express myself, and feel like a real dummy because I can't communicate. Yet, everyone seems to like me in spite of my ignorance. On the way back, Lia was waiting for us with cookies and she took the group photos above. As we descended into Florence from Piazza Michelangelo, with the vista of Florence in front of me, I couldn't believe that I'm really here, and that I just had one of the most memorable rides of my life. http://connect.garmin.com/activity/1360384

Ride to Greve with the Group

I continue to thank God for this gift He has given me...this passion for cycling, because not only does it open up the door to endless ventures in exploring places that I love....but it has opened up the door to new and lasting friendships. Every minute that I share with new friends on my bike is a moment to be treasured. Today was another energetic ride with the group...we took a different route this time to Greve, where we stopped at the Sunday market, had a caffe and then headed for a subtle climb. Autumn is bursting and the weather was crisp and clear. Here's a link to the ride! http://http//trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/7149219

Tuscany in its bucolic and sophisticated elegance, feeds my thirsty intellect, yet it is Campania that intoxicates my soul, my senses, my instincts. It is Campania that sings to my roots, that provokes my sense of humor, that unleashes my passions. It is Campania to whose people and customs I relate. How do I merge this cerebral vs. sensual dichotomy? Does there exist a middle ground?

Ho Fatto Una Decisione!

Tonight Nicola visited to collect the rent and to get my decision....am I leaving on December 15th, as planned? Shall he start looking for someone to occupy the apartment when I leave?

But Italy won't let me go right now. I want to experience Christmas in Italy......and so much more...but for now, I stay.

He was delighted..I was fortunate to find Niccola, this apartment, this situation, this opportunity. Nicola is one of many people and experiences that are, without provocation, validating my instinct to stay....at least for now. Before he left, Nicola invited me to dinner with his family and friends at his home in San Casciano the week after next. His good friend and opera critic, Cesare Orsini will also be there. This has to be a dream. Pinch, pinch.

Lucia

Two weeks ago I started taking private conversation lessons with Lucia, to supplement my 4 daily hours of group grammar and conversation classes at school. Lucia, una Fiorentina, is a Italian language and political science professor who has also taught at Holy Cross, Boston College and Georgetown. I found her on Craigslist.it. I knew immediately after a quick meeting over caffe, that she would be perfect for me. Like everything else, it's all falling into place.

Lucia comes to my apartment every Tuesday and Thursday to focus only on conversation. And I see Filippo every Wednesday and Friday. With all these resources, I should be speaking Italian very quickly....right?

Lucia just left my apartment, and some of our conversation revolved around the dynamics of aquiring a new language. I expressed my frustration of not acquiring the verbal skills as quickly as I want. "But Barbara", she said, "the Italian language is like wine....you must drink it slowly, or you get drunk. You must decant it, let it open up, expose it to the air and let it breathe. You must smell it...you must taste it little by little". She was suggesting that I am expecting too much, too soon, and that I need to slow down just a little bit. She was suggesting that I might be getting drunk.

The echo of the Duomo bells signaled that our session was already over. I think I will close my books for the night, and watch Il commissario Montalbano over a glass of wine.

Lori and Fred

I spent this weekend with Lori and Fred, friends from California who are vacationing in Italy. Sunday in Fiesole and dinner at Di Giovanni were especially memorable. I felt my past colliding with my future as I wondered...will I reunite with Lori and Fred in a future life? Are they friends of the past or the future? Will I reconnect again with my life in California, or will I continue to dig my roots deeper into this land that draws me closer each day?

Obama

Florence stayed up all night to witness the election of Obama. The streets were filled with a passionate international audience...the world is filled with a new hope in America....it is finally, once again, good to be an American in Italy.

Zucchini Flowers for Dinner

It is zucchini season! Their flowers are exploding with life, and they are plentiful in the markets. Perhaps today was a symbolic celebration of my desire to consume that which is beautiful. These are usually lightly battered and quickly deep fried, but I flash-sauteed them in extra virgin olive oil.. a good dose of salt, a glass of Proseco... cosi`delicato!

A Weekend of New Friends, Great Food, Liza and Cycling in Tuscany

Friday This weekend began in Mantignano, a small borgo just south of Florence, at the home (which was a former convent) of Filippo's uncle, who is a cacciatore, where we feasted with his family on cinghiale, one of my favorite Tuscan specialities. Of course, it is wild boar season. For me, it was a special occasion, but for Filippo's family, not so unusual. There I met his sister and husband, his best friend and wife, his father, uncle, aunt, a teacher-friend from London and his wife e due bambini! I brought a beautiful bottle of Montalcino. We dined on a robust, piping hot, slightly piccante minestra made from osso di cinghiale, rigatoni, spinaci, fajioli, e un pocchino di pepperoncino. This was followed by cinghiale roasted in the huge kitchen firepit, cinghiale sausages, potatoes, bread, tomatoes, and later, due forme di peccorini, and finally, dolce. By the time we finished eating, it was past midnight! Ciao to the next day's giro! I became so relaxed after a few glasses of wine and lively conversation, that I didn't even realize that I was actually speaking credible Italian....and everyone was actually listening....and we conversed comfortably...a delightful and encouraging evening.

Saturday Last night, Liza Minelli sent chills up my spine, where, at the Teatro Comunale, she delivered a rivetting performance that brought down the house. An Italian audience is all you really need...it's entertainment in itself. But on top of that, Liza belted out a performance that rocked me out of my seat. I am here in Florence for another life experience...hopefully one that will forever be lasting.

Sunday Another day in cycling heaven, with Leif, Rebecca and Rhiannon, this time, to Volognano. The climb reminded me that I've been indulging too much on irresitable food and wine. I am gaining weight, and as much as it bothers me, I know it's good for my soul.....(the food, that is). Maybe time to start playing hookey from school, to ride more during the week. We took a left turn in Bagno di Ripoli, on a road laced with vineyards that are turning golden from the crisp autumn air. Every twist and turn of this tranquil country road offered unique views of hills adorned with olive groves and castles. As we pedaled along, we were rewarded by the vision of nuns wearing old world habits.... and a couple of horses approaching us. On the way home, I crossed the Ponte Vecchio and with the Arno on my right, I had flashbacks of countless parallel experiences from another place and time....cycling back home along the Hudson River from the George Washington Bridge from an all-day ride to Battery Park City. Only 6 years ago, but seems like light-years away. Can it be true? Is this the Ponte Vecchio and not the GW Bridge? Is this the Arno and not the Hudson? Is that San Frediano across the river and not Jersey City? Pinch pinch.

Raduno Pro Meyer

Today I participated in my first "raduno", or charity ride, which took us to Montelupo........4,000 cyclists participated. No Gatorade or Powerbars here....but...bruschetta, pasta, pecorino, prosciutto and dolce at the post-ride festa, and a bottle of wine each to take home.

It doesn't get better than this. But with the way things are happening here for me, it will.

Jules

I am meeting some amazing people. Last Wednesday at the team dinner, I met Jules, a nurse from Australia, who is living out her dream to live and work in Italy. We rode together to Olmo today while she told me of her experience here in Florence and her quest to establish herself here. She then led the way to Parco delle Cascine, where we pedaled the circuit and enjoyed a warm panino before heading home.

Cavalleria Rusticana al Teatro Comunale

Bravo! Ancora, un'altra grande opera! Tonight's performance of Cavalleria Rusticana was memorable. The Italian audience was performance art in and of itself.

This was the first time that I attended an Italian opera with Italian subtitles, and so was able to get a deeper insight into the Sicilian dialect in which this opera was written. Needless to say, it was the best Cavalleria performance I've seen. While walking home along the Arno, I had to pinch myself several times. Is this real? Am I really here? Can this feeling last? Will I be able to stay?

Claudio's Visit

Born and raised in Piemonte, Claudio owns and operates La Dolce Vita Wine Tours. (Click on his photo to go to his website.) I met Claudio in 1996 on Ciclismo Classico's "Bike Across Italy" tour, for which he was the tour guide. He subsequently met Pat, a Brooklyn girl who I knew from the New York Cycle Club. They married and settled down in Brooklyn where they live part-time there and part-time in Piemonte. Claudio is in Italy right now, as it is grape harvest and bike touring season. This weekend, during a break between bike tours, he visited me in Florence and familiarized me with the best cycling roads here in Tuscany. We spent hours driving through Chianti, as he pointed out some particularly beautiful roads for my further cycling investigation! We stopped in Barberino, and after touring Giovanni Verrazzano's castello in Greve in Chianti, we dined at the Castello di Lucignano. Claudio is one of Italy's top backroads experts..so I had an excellent orientation, while catching up on an old friendship.

Filippo

Filippo, a Florentine lawyer, is my conversation buddy, with whom I meet over caffe a few times a week, he to practise his English, and I, my Italian. We've had alot of good conversation and laughs, and it's been delightful to make a true friend in Firenze. I've been blessed with so many fortunate happenings since I've been here, but meeting Filippo has been particiulary rewarding because I can sense a real friendship developing.