When I was child, my parents had some friends in Cleveland, Ohio, who had a nice home overlooking a golf course. My parents were about to go off to Europe on a vacation and the Cleveland woman said; “Why Travel? We’re here!” …and now many years later,  I understand her statement. Why leave a place if you really, really like it? Me? I like my Tuscan town and its Views…even more than the Views of the Cleveland golf course. But each to their own. This week I am having coffee and meals with some travelers from the States who tell me the views here are from their ‘Bucket List’. Mission accomplished. Soon they will go on and see other things.  Tonight, when I join them for dinner, I will ask them the ‘Why Travel” question.

So. Why am I Here? One of the reasons: This little town has a Fashion Show…one hour long, one night a year. Me? I’m a male from Ohio – not given to ‘Fashion’. Or to “Fashion Shows”. But this one is something else. At one end of our Piazza there is a little shop filled street called the ‘Borgo’. One night a year the store  (Named “Quarante” – or, ’40’ – after its address) hosts a show. They roll down a red carpet a couple hundred yards long, put benches along both sides and dress up various local members of the community to stroll down the red carpet and show off the goods. Some of the models are very young, some are quite the opposite…all are happy to be strutting down the lane. The crowd claps, laughs, waves at the models. – and the models tended to wave back. It is a good time. The woman who sells the newspapers, magazines and such – modeled this year. So did two of the waitresses from one of the popular caffe’s. So did some of the local waiters.  I think the guy who fixed the plumbing problem in our bathroom was sporting a nice brown leather jacket. Nobody from Paris or New York on the runway; but who needs that?

I hear, next week, a local band is going to play and march around in the piazza, in celebration of one of our favorite Saints. For me, better things happen here than were on my bucket list.

(PHOTO ABOVE: Our ‘Local’ Barbershop. Closed Mondays.)

Some people have to go long distances to get a little glimpse of culture (As defined: “…the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people, or other social group.”) Some travel far and wide to go to Cathedrals, to Museums, Vineyards. Some take hundred mile magical walks across vast expanses – and such. Me? I took a walk about two hundred meters from my apartment to get  a haircut from Patricchio. I paid 18 Euro (about $18 ) and got all the culture I could take in for a month.

It’s a two chair set-up. Thomasso, his son and partner, was not there at the time. The music was Vivaldi – at least I think it was Vivaldi. Halfway through, Patriccio got tired of whatever the music was and changed it to a Brandenburg Concerto – very nice). He asked me when I was going to have my hernia operation. I had no idea how he knew I needed one. My Italian is not fluent enough to banter on about things like that. But in this town it seems everybody knows about whatever is going on with everybody else. A few minutes later he told me his wife had been sick for a long while, and  had recently passed away. He said she was now in a nice place and out of pain. Then he told me he was not afraid of death but was afraid of suffering. I told him I was afraid of both  – at least I think that is what I said. Across the street there is the town’s church. The big bells started to ring. loud bells ringing a mournful sound. The bells were ringing in the news of funerals taking place that day…Four of them. “It is the Season”, Patriccio said quietly, as he clipped away. A man, a “Local”, came in and said something to Patriccio – about the bells, I think it was – and they hugged and the man went on his way. After he brushed me off he said he thought my wife would like the result- but if she did not – I could come back and he would fix it.

Who needs to go to Rome and see a Colosseum? Or go the the Louvre and see Mona Lisa? I’m learning a lot about mankind just sitting here in my barber’s chair

Every Saturday we have a market in our piazza: Clothing, pots & pans, fabrics, threads & yarns, bathroom supplies – everything you need. You don’t have to drive to a store, or go to your phone or computer and search for what you want on-line. …and give up your personal data to buy anything. I hear the on-line merchants now have Personalized & Convergent pricing capabilities and know how to charge you accordingly. The merchants here simply know what they want for their goods. It’s a good show and a nice experience even for those who are not into shopping. The man who sold me my belt gets his morning coffee from the same barista as do I. The man who sells me my toilet paper came from Pakistan – and is happy to be here. The man who sold me a winter blanket last year owns the building two doors down from where I live.  And so on.

Up the hill a few hundred yards, there is another area where fresh fruits, vegetables, cheeses, spices and more – are sold from outdoor market stands. Get there before 10:00 A.M. or you will have a long line in front of you – which is not so bad because the waiting crowd is pleasant and has all the recent news of the town.

I have been reading a lot, recently, about the threat of AI to human labor. I cannot figure out how AI is going to intrude on this simplest and age old method of marketing. …If you can, do not tell me – I do not want to know.

 

If I have it right; a long time ago the Greeks were invading Troy and just before they got inside the walls – several Trojans escaped and fled to what is now known as Italy…Eventually they – the E-troyans  (the ‘E” meaning ‘out of’) were renamed the ‘Etruscans’ and then ‘Tuscans’…Today the Tuscans thrive – even though they are being invaded again; but this time by peaceful wine drinking and olive oil spreading hordes. (See photo above of the Tuscan  Annual ‘Wine Fest’.) So much for history repeating itself. Survive long enough and you will get to the good times. Don’t listen to any of this AI end of the world business.

What is this a photo of? Who cares? It is the funnest!…But how does anyone make a living doing this?

Five weeks ago I wrote about a twice a month dinner I host – whereby we  ‘ex-pats’ speak about what is on our minds.  It is sort of an updated, but toned down Gertrude Stein Parisian Salon styled affair in a quiet Tuscan village. The Weather was the big topic. It was record breaking hot at the time. It is still hot; but we don’t talk much about it anymore. We just slog thru. I wonder if that is how many of us behave with most of our problems. Anyway…There is a wine festival being set up in our piazza,  I don’t drink wine. There was a big meat dinner (Local sausages and beefs) in the  piazza the other night. I don’t eat meat. People ask me, if I understand their language correctly, why I live here in the first place; not participating in the good wines, and good meats.  Well: It is beautiful and the people here are very friendly and happy…and all that grows on one. At 7:00 in the morning – out my bedroom window, I hear men laughing as they have their morning off-to-work coffee. I mean laughing loudly. At 10:00 at night I hear children playing loudly in the piazza,,,loudly laughing. I have to step over pet dogs – large and small – to get to my morning coffee (62 steps from my door), where the Barristas make friendly jokes about my appearance and lousy Italian… The place is truly an adult Italian version of Sesame Street without Snuffleopolus – and I want to keep on being part of the show.

FYI: Many of the ‘Locals’ have been here for several generations…but there are also Romanians, Albanians, Croatians, Africans, European and other ex-pats (this part of Tuscany used to be called ‘Chianti-shire” by the Brits)…all sorts of people living here: men, women young, old…most speaking who knows what languages, probably most of the world’s major religions represented…but we more than get along. I mean; how hard can this be to accomplish?

Maybe I should not reveal the exact location for too many people might come here, and ruin things like they are doing in Venice and Miami…or worse, somebody with a strong personality and rigid ideas on who should enjoy what might want to shut it down.

Be careful out there.