While on a train today to the old, old walled town of Lucca, I noticed the massive white faces of the marble quarry outside of Carrara, Italy. These were the faces first exposed when the Romans needed stone for their monuments and churches, back in the heyday of the empire around the birth of Jesus. Better yet, when Michelangelo was commissioned to carve a statue and call it David, he was given a prime piece from Carrara. David is 17 feet tall, with a huge head, monstrous hands, and an oversized, notably uncircumcised....... whatever.
The marble quarries brought to mind all things Italian. There is no mistaking where you are when you step off the train in Italy. Damp laundry flutters from clotheslines stretched in front of rectangular windows, adding random colors to buildings already painted peach, rose, and pale yellow. Flowers add even more colors, running up drainpipes, filling roundabouts, resting on window sills.
But watch out below, as bicycles weave through streets already full of pedestrians and whining scooters. Who needs rules? A good Italian scolding is a pleasure to behold. Sometimes from mothers, sometimes clerks, but mostly from best of friends just being full of being an Italian. The ever present wire rack behind wide, cushy bicycle seats adds a load, carrying dogs, small kids, cats, maybe another adult. Rattling bikes seem to have been made in the forties, out of iron perhaps, with chain guards to protect skirts and baby legs. One handed steering is necessary because the other is holding groceries, lit cigarettes, maybe a small dog.
Fabio is back. Long, dark wavy hair. Women's shoes. Painted nails. Swarthy skin. More shoes. School age boys and girls playing late, kicking a patched ball in the street, already shouting and scolding in sing song, beautiful Italian. Stray cats, sleeping on restaurant chairs. Dogs on a leash inside the meat market. A breakfast bar, with locals standing at the bar, drinking their espresso and cappuccino as chaos rules around them.
We have been watching it all, much as the ever present eyes of the old men and women who lean out windows to watch the world below, shaking heads in dismay at the ways of a new generation. Italians have such a passion for living that it makes one want to keep returning. Doesn't seem like anywhere else.
We plan a beach day tomorrow here in Levanto. Surf, sand, beach balls, healthy women. Kids, sun, reading, snacks, alcohol. Umbrellas, more reading, more alcohol, and watching the locals wave their hands as they speak rapid fire Italian.
It will be hot, sandy, hotter, sandier. Who cares? It's Italy!
Nic and Dora, thanks for the comments. We miss you guys!
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1 comment:
looks like you are having a lot of fun! as you know, italy is one of my favorites. back in ~2000, judy, the kids and i stayed in lucca. we had a lovely hotel room with a fresco on the ceiling. before we went out to dinner, we had wine, cheese on the balcony of our room. eric put the leftovers in the fridge that was in the room. he noticed it was unplugged so he plugged it in. when we got back afer dinner, the room was full of ammonia! (ammonia based refigerator). the hotel was booked so we had to wait 4-5 hours to get back in. when the hotel clerk went up the three flights of stairs to open the windows, put in fans, we heard him shout "mama mia!" when he came down his eyes were blood red. since he left our room door open to help air it out, everyone in the hotel woke up to the odor. when we finally got back in the room, since the windows were open, we soon had several bats in the room. judy screamed, i slept. i woke up in bed, judy woke up in the bath tub with the door closed. the bats were gone but i was in hot water for days due to "my lack of sensitivity" ah well - such events are what memories are made of. be safe and have fun! geno
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