Balbano, Of All Places

October 18, 2003-Seeking the Sea
(photos:Portofino,
Villa Casanova)

The Ciminis left and took all the good weather. It’s raining and forty-five degrees. We left the four-star Hotel Cavalieri della Corona in Cardona near Milan after partaking of what they termed a “rich” breakfast. I guess that would mean a light breakfast doesn’t include wine on the buffet. It was small compensation for the fact that we had to eat dinner at the four-star hotel restaurant last night. We had our hearts set on the autostrade grill.

We crossed a very dry Po River and started our climb into the clouds of the Apennine Mts. I felt as if Latin 101 had come to life and I was following the trail of Julius Caesar. Except for the Roman viaducts still in use, the red tile roofs, and the signs in Italian I’d swear I was in West Virginia. Those are a lot of “excepts.” Italians haven’t lost their touch as far as road building. The highway was an amazing maze of tunnels and bridges cutting through and around the hills. I’m sorry to tell Karen that there was even a flock of sheep and half were black. The charm of the moment was lost as we rounded a bend and were confronted by a refinery with gigantic blue tanks.

We wanted to find the Mediterranean Sea as soon as possible and Nervi looked like a good place to search out local roads. With water to our right and mountains to our left we soaked up the scenery in the luscious vacation spots of Santa Margherita Ligure and Portofino. The rooftops were now tan slate but the buildings made up for the lack of red tile. The color combinations varied from salmon buildings with green shutters to gold houses with pink shutters; and pink facades with black shutters. That would have been enough, but as this pastel palate rose up from the road on one side and down to the pebbled beach and the teal blue sea on the other, I saw that some buildings wore broad stripes, some were festooned with painted medallions or flowers, and others were decorated with trompe d’oile designs. Pomegranate trees overhung the road and bougainvilleas bloomed.

Lucky Lucca We followed tour buses until they could go no farther. Roads in Italy, even the autostrade, don’t have shoulders. The one we were on narrowed so that the lanes in each direction were the width of ¾ of a car with rock outcroppings encroaching into the lanes. In Portofino David quickly snapped photos while I held an umbrella over the camera. We lunched on bresaola (that dried beef we like) and pizza margherita, jumped into the car to warm up, and continued south.

We wanted to stop in Lucca, the birthplace of Puccini, for the night. David has mastered the toll- booths and was feeling quite confident when a car in front of us had trouble. We were surprised that only two cars honked during the delay. Italian drivers get a bum wrap. The’re aggressive and exceed the speed limit but do use their directional signals, yield, and merge without histrionics.

For the first time this trip we stopped at a tourist information office to book a room. They were extremely helpful. Most places in our price-range were booked but they found us Villa Casanova, a converted 17th century Tuscan farm. It’s only six miles outside the historic center of Lucca set in the tiny village of Balbano. David’s in love with this place. The views are panoramic, the furniture antique, the eighteen foot high ceilings are all original with wood beams, and the floors are terra cotta. All this and breakfast for $84. Heat would have been optional if the boiler had been turned on for the season.

A woman from Ceylon whose Italian was impeccable and whose English was limited greeted us. She was eager to help. The aroma of dinner cooking greeted us as we registered. We didn’t want to venture out to eat and choices here were limited. She totally understood our dietary restrictions. The meal was classic Tuscan. David was thrilled to have veal. Three huge rough-cut succulent pieces in natural gravy were presented simply on a plate with no adornment. I don’t eat veal on principle so my choice was soup and spaghetti with tomato sauce. The minestrone was the best we’ve had to date. Unfortunately, Tuscan bread is what we think of as Italian, but their version is tasteless. Olive oil is a definite plus. The dinner included a mixed salad and vegetable pie. The pie was what I call a pudding or kugel. It’s baked eggs with vegetables. Dessert was tiramisu ice cream, fruit, fruitcake, or cheese. We ordered a bottle of white Tuscan wine. On the bottle it said that it should be served at about fifty degrees temperature. That wasn’t a problem since that was room temperature. We’d been sharing one bottle of wine with the Ciminis, but managed to polish this off on our own. It was our undoing. I started making spritzers using sparkling water. At the end of the meal David said that he didn’t think he had lips anymore. I told him that one of my ears was cold and the other was hot. He verified that it was so. We started giggling until my eyes teared, but I didn’t wet my pants.

I must quote from the hotel brochure: “ L’air is sharp and invigorating, eccellent for the healt. Ideal place for holidays, short stans, and week –end… The cookin is typically Tuscan.”

Tomorrow we’ll drive through Pisa and South. We expect to be in Sorrento on the 20th.

Toby