Last minute flight cancellation

The night before I go anywhere, I have trouble sleeping. Last night was no exception. The anticipation of the journey was compounded by the heat and the fact that I had just talked to Jerry and was feeling a little homesick. 

I listened to two consecutive Peloton sleep meditations to no avail. I was anxious. I couldn’t still my mind and sleep. The phone buzzed a couple of times with bothersome texts and even one robocall. 

Finally I was calm. Then: bzz…bzz. I was back up. I turned the phone over and saw a message from British Airways. My flight on the 14th was canceled. No reason. Just canceled. They advised me to look at the flight they had chosen as an alternative. I did and to my surprise, the flight was moved from Linate to Malpensa. That would mean I would have to cancel my hotel and arrange the car drop off. A lot of hassle. 

It got me thinking. What if BA cancels again and I get stuck here? What if this is a sign? I Immediately checked to see if it would be possible to move my departure date up without penalty. Sure enough, it was going to let me. I quickly chose the flight leaving Malpensa on the 8th, a direct American Airways flight into JFK. This was the one I came in on. The onward flight would take me to DCA, from whence I came. 

Still uneasy, I changed my hotel from the Novetel Linate to the Sheraton Malpensa. Next, I called Kemwel to ensure I could drop the car at Malpensa. Elizabeth assured me it would be fine (got to love Kemwel -q.v. earlier post from 2010). Flight, hotel, car. All in check. One last detail: the covid test. 

I opened the state.gov site and read that a rapid antigen test within 3 days would suffice. I found a drive through place at Pisa airport that does them for 40 euros. Scheduled and paid. 

I felt a wave of calmness rush over me. I was completely organized, scheduled and ready to go. I drifted off to sleep effortlessly at close to 2:15 am. 

I woke, refreshed, at 6:15, ready to embrace my day in Rome. I got dressed, brushed my teeth and went to the station for my 8:09 train. 

 Every once in a while, I find there is something I have never seen or something I didn’t know existed. The fact that Montelupo has an archeological museum and, apparently, a Roman villa was news to me. Montelupo is the city of ceramics, and the home of Eugenio Taccini, the maestro who created all of my pinochios (see earlier post on the story of the Pinocchio and the Carabiniere painting). I haven’t been to Montelupo since 2012 and I thought today was as good a day as any. I would start my trip by going to the museum of ceramics. I went back in 2002, when there was a huge night festival of ceramics and the museum was open to the public. But, in the intervening years, it has moved into a much bigger and more impressive building.  The ceramics on display are largely the same, however.

I drove to Montelupo, a short 20 minute jaunt down the Fi-Pi-Li towards Florence. I parked and walked about a block to the museum. Upon entering, I was greeted, cheerfully, by two girls working the desk.  I announced I wanted one regular ticket. I was asked if I qualified for discounts (again with the discounts). After I explained that I am American and quite certain I don’t qualify for any reduction on the 5 euro ticket, I was presented with a pamphlet explaining all of the museums in the area and invited to go upstairs to see the collection.  I explained that I am a Latin teacher from America and was very interested in the archeology museum. The second girl said that I was in luck because she believed it was open and that I should save my ticket because it will get me in there, too.

I trudged upstairs and went through the collection. It isn’t terribly extensive and it was, as I said, not changed in 20 years, just in a different case. I kind of wish I had gotten the audio guide. Anyhow, I exited the museum and went to my car. I was on a mission, because I was quite sure the archeological museum would be better. And a Roman villa!

I drove the 7 minutes, following the GPS dutifully. It deposited me in front of a church. It was at that time that Jerry called to check in. I sat in the air conditioned car (it was 36C outside) for a few minutes and chatted. I wasn’t sure if the museum was in the church or nor, so I went on my way to investigate.

I soon discovered that the museum was a few minutes walk down the road, surrounded by a lovely park. I bet in March, when it is 65 degrees and misting rain, it is absolutely heavenly. But, in June at 95 degrees, it is less pleasant. I found my way to the front of the museum to discover that it is, in fact, NOT open today. It is not open most days. 

At least I have an email address to contact to arrange a visit to both the museum and the villa. I will keep you posted on that front. But, after being a bit disappointed by the museum being closed, I tried my luck with visiting Taccini’s studio. It said it was open until 7pm. I had plenty of time. I walked back to the car, parked in the church lot, and plugged the address into the GPS. Although I had a vague idea where it was, I was not sure I’d drive directly to it. 

5 minutes later, I found myself parking my car by the River Pesa and walking into the pedestrian borgo that is the home to several ceramicists and artistic ventures. Taccini is just on the left.

As you can see. Maestro Taccini was not there. He did, however, leave a telephone number. But, I am not about to call him. I hate the phone in any language. So, I gathered my sad self and went back to the car.  Where to now? It was still on the early side so I decided to try the Prada outlet in Fucecchio. I checked the internet and it said “open until 7pm” and plugged the address (via F. Magnella, 5) into the GPS. 

20 minutes later, I was turning onto the familiar street. I had been there a number of times before. I parked the car and looked for the entrance. No entrance. I walked up and down and there was no way to get in without being buzzed in. That was kind of the last straw. I decided to look on the internet again (what would we do without cell phones?) and get the number. I was going to call. As much as I hate to speak on the phone, and in Italian!, I sucked it up, swallowed my fear, and called. The phone range twice and then went to a message: questo numero e’ inesistente. That means, they have closed up shop and turned off the phones! Ugh. Incredibly disappointed.

I decided it was time to bring it on home so I got back in the car and went the back road from Fucecchio to Santa Maria al Monte. The road went quick. I soon found myself at the traffic circle in front of my grocery store, the Coop.  There is a clothing store I have enjoyed before, called All Goods. It is in a building constructed from shipping containers. I decided to stop there. I got out of the car (there seemed to be cars in front) and approached the door. It was closed. Lights off. Doors locked,

I tried to take a picture, but my phone evidently didn’t want to because when I sat down at home to review my day’s pictures, I noticed it was not there. I guess it is just par for the course today. 

 On Saturday, I was looking for something to do which did not entail driving west. West is the sea and all roads leading west are gridlocked with traffic.  So, I figured I would take a drive to Siena and have a look around. 

I put “Siena” into the GPS, nor because I didn’t know the way, but because I love to see the ETA on the Car Play. The drive to Siena from Castel del Bosco is always round about an hour and a half, whether you take the highway, the back roads, or a combination of the two. A solid 90 minutes.  So, you can imagine my surprise to see the ETA showing 1 hour and 11 minutes. There is a new road between the Fi-Pi-Li and Certaldo that shaves 20 minutes off the trip. And, it is a gorgeous road, at that, full of tunnels and wide, pristine blacktop. I found myself back on the usual road quickly and then onto the Fi-Si, the Fi-Pi-Li’s slightly prettier cousin. 

At the 1:11 mark precisely, I was exiting onto the Siena Nord ramp and into the familiar roads that would take me to my old apartment at Madonnina Rossa. And, sure enough, as I approached the traffic circle, my beloved polincino (little bus), the exact kind from which I had tumbled and subsequently landed me in the hospital for a week, was sitting at the bus stop, seemingly waiting for me.  But, today was not the day for me to ride the short bus into the city, I would drive myself to the San Francesco parking lot at Porta Ovile and take the escalator inside the walls.

I took some pictures of my old building. My neighbor still had the same car parked in the spot next to my old one (which sat empty). I always thought that car seemed old even then, in 2006. But, I guess if you don’t drive a lot, your car lasts longer.

I parked my car in the pay lot (2euros/hr) and noticed that the car park, which in a normal year would have been completely full, was not even one fifth full. My car sat alone in its spot. I bid farewell to my Lexus Hybrid and made my way across the street to the escalator. I exited the “station” and walked across the piazza where San Francesco sits. A couple of nuns, masked, sat on a bench praying the rosary. 

I walked quickly to the main road, the Banchi di Sopra, where many familiar sights met me: the Monte dei Paschi di Siena branch where I opened my bank account, the piazza next to it where David Rossi, head of communications for the bank leapt to his death in 2013, the news stand where I often bought a magazine or newspaper. I went into the shop at the top of the road which sells products particular to the area. I picked up some souvenirs for friends back home and then headed toward the piazza del campo, the main square of the city.

Before I got to the square, however, I came upon the pizzeria where we always got a slice after class. It is usually closed for the holidays when I come to Siena. Today, however, it was open.  I entered, just to look. And, sitting alone, in the glass case, was one slice of my very favorite pizza, the sausage pizza. This sausage is shredded, almost into a powder, over top the pizza. I try to replicate this when I make pizza at home. But, it is never quite the same. I took it as a sign that i needed to get it.  I paid my 2.40 euros and took my pizza (not reheated) to the closest perch.  I sat just before the Piazza dei Pappi on the stone bench and devoured my pizza. It was every bit as good as I remembered it. 

After walked up to the top of the piazza to take a picture of where I fell of the bus, I headed into the piazza del campo. I walked toward the bar we always frequented back in the day: Birreria. It has changed its name to something else and the waitresses are all different. I didn’t think it was worth a seat. I went from there up towards the questura, where I had to report quarterly for my periodic police check in. It has not changed…

I went behind the duomo, taking a few pictures of the church and the museum complex along the way, to a ceramics shop. I replaced two of my small contrada bowls which I had broken. In the process, I saw two gorgeous platters with fish painted on them. I spoke to the woman behind the register about how to ship them.  She said she didn’t know much about the process and I said I would think about it.  They are hand painted and represent fish found in Lago Trasimeno. I may go back and get them and ship them myself. I have time to think about it.

At that point, I had had enough. I made my way back to the car, making a quick stop at Feltrinelli for a grammar book. I made it back to my car in just under 2 hours, so my parking fee was minimal. The drive home was as uneventful as the drive there, I made it back in the same 1:11. 

It was a great day, full of memories and emotions. I may make one more trip to Siena, if only to retrieve a fish platter!

 

One of my favorite places in Italy is not a Roman site. It is not a medieval town. It is a marvelous, magical place called Leccio, where one can find luxury outlets, the likes of Gucci, Prada, Moncler and Burberry. I have been able to procure Prada purses for 250 euros, Montcler jackets for 100 euros and Gucci dresses for 300 euros.  I was ready to see the bargains.

 

I set out from Castel del Bosco at 2pm, and called DonnaD. I love to chat while driving and, as I told her on the phone, “I know the way without the GPS.” I plugged it into the Apple Maps nonetheless because I love and ETA prediction. The Fi-Pi-Li was rather uneventful, until the bottleneck at Ginestra. But, even with that, the journey went smoothly along the road that the locals call “the devil’s way” because of all its traffic.

 

I entered the A1 autostrada, called the Autostrada del Sole (the Highway of the Sun), and drove toward Rome. In fewer than 20 miles, I was at my exit: Regello-Incisa. I exited and paid my toll (2.5 euros). I veered right and approached the first traffic circle. I exited at the first spoke, as I thought I should. The GPS immediately told me to go 1.5 miles to the next rotunda and u-turn back. I thought to myself, “I fi am going 1.5 miles just to turn around, I am going to keep going and and let the GPS redirect me. It seemed like a good idea. Besides, I knew I was headed toward Regello anyway.  I guess I didn’t remember the road as well as I had boasted…

 

The GPS finally caught up to me and took me to the left. It seemed right because I had a vague feeling that The Mall was “over there in that direction.” (I actually have a 6^th sense and superpower which involves finding the mall in any town without a map…). I followed the GPS down the road which immediately became a one lane road. (This is where you remember hearing stories of people who follow the gps off a cliff…) I was being told that I needed to follow this road another mile where the road would veer left and who knows after that. It was at that very moment that my one lane road became ¾ of a lane. I took a deep breath and kept going. It was the longest mile of my life. 

 

I made it to the next indication: one mile to via Aretina. Here is a pro tip: via Aretina in any location is a road with at least two full lanes and often has speed limits of 70 k/h. Feeling better, I embarked on what actually was the longest mile of my life, as I encountered two other cars coming straight at me on the ¾ lane road. They clearly knew the drill because they pulled their large SUVs into the ditch to let me pass.  

 

I eventually found my way to via Aretina and made the left which would take me to The Mall.  In 3 minutes I was parking my beleaguered hybrid in the parking lot.  I put on my Liberty mask and set off to the shops.  I immediately ascertained that Pucci was gone. I was a little bummed, because Pucci always had the best stuff at great prices.  But, there was still Gucci, Prada, Moncler, Ferragamo, Loro Piana, Valentino, Tods, Burberry and many others. I went first to Moncler.

 

Moncler sits away from all the other shops, not being officially part of The Mall complex. I made the trek, confident I would find a treasure. I entered the shop, sanitized my hands and started to browse. The prices did not look like the outlet prices I had seen three years ago. A vest was 750 euros, a jacket 1000 euros. I looked through every rack, to see if perhaps there might be a bargain rack. No such luck.

 

Feeling defeated, I went to Prada. I always had luck at Prada. Everything looked as it had before. Except the price tags. The prices looked no different than the prices at Saks or Neiman Marcus. I did see a pair of sunglasses for 140 euros, but I was too discouraged to consummate the purchase. On to Gucci.

 

Gucci is in a new building since the last time I shopped there.  Three years ago, there was such a line to get into the shop, that I turned up my nosed and walked away thinking, “it will be a cold day on hell that I stand in line to enter ANY store.” Boy, did I have no idea what was coming…

 

There was no line today. I entered, sanitized and had my temp taken on my wrist. I went immediately to the clothes. There were gorgeous dresses on the racks. I immediately though that this might be the place to get a dress for a party I have coming up in September. One jumped into my hands. I peered into the dress to inspect the price tag for the size and price. Size 40: perfect. Price: 1200 euros. I gingerly replaced the dress on the rack.  I repeated the process for 6 other dresses. All my size, but all with prices out of this world.  Now, lest you think I have unreasonable expectations, I bought a back velvet strapless number at Gucci a few years ago, and I paid about 300 for it. The other dresses there were all about the same price point.  I left empty handed and empty hearted.

 

I ventured up to the main complex to try my luck at Burberry and Ferragamo. It was the same story. The prices were over the top. The only thing left to do was to go home. I trudged back to my car, hot from my mask, and depressed by the fact that I found nothing. In all my years (20 to be exact) of coming here, I had never left empty handed. Never. Not once. 

 

The trip home was quicker than the trip to The Mall. When I reached the toll plaza at Scandicci, I was read with my 2.50. Unfortunately, it was 1.70 and I had to scramble for change because my original 2 euro coin was rejected.  After I got it all paid and heard the “Arrivederci” of the automated toll taker, I merged onto the Fi-Pi-Li. Even the bottleneck seemed to move faster on the way home. As I drove, I tried to think of all the reasons I hadn’t bought anything. My principal reason seemed to be the prices. But, why were the prices so high? I guess they didn’t sell anything for a whole year and they are trying to recoup their losses. However, as we explained to William (who is organizing a yard sale on Saturday), isn’t it better to make some money than none? I guess they will find out if their strategy will work. It didn’t look like much was getting sold. Sad for us all. 

  Always forget how close Florence is. I don’t need to reserve a whole day to visit; and I can certainly run errands rather quickly, if planned correctly. Today was an errand day.

I did my normal walk: 6.25 miles along the via dei Girasoli, next to the train tracks.  It was a blisteringly hot day.  Every morning, I tell myself: “Self, you need to get up 2 hours earlier and do this walk when it isn’t so hot.” But, every morning, I succumb to the “just five more minutes” temptation and never get out before the heat comes.

I finished my walk and ate lunch. I am doing intermittent fasting while I am here, so lunch is always the most important part of my post-walk ritual. I eat two pieces of fruit (usually an orange and a peach) and a hard boiled egg.  When sufficiently fed, I got cleaned up and hopped into the car. I put “US Consulate, Lungarno, Firenze” into the Maps app on my phone. (I always park at the consulate because a) it makes me feel good to see the American flag and b) there is a huge parking lot right there that is super easy to access.) The app said I would be there in 49 minutes, which seemed wrong, but I went with it.

The drive went smoothly, no traffic, until just after Ginestra. The four lane divided highway, known as the Fi-Pi-Li, (more formally, as the Strada Grande Comunicazione Firenze-Pisa-Livorno), funnels into 2 lanes on account of road construction. That’s what the app was accounting for… however, the funneling went more smoothly than anticipated and as soon as I was through the bottle neck, the ETA shaved 10 minutes back off. And, sure enough, I was back in front of American soil as I had expected.

I parked and went over the the parking meter machine.  Arriving at 2:40, I figured that I could get everything done by 5:40. I took out my coins and started feeding the meter. It gave me two hours and that was it.  Yikes! I needed to run!

Well, not really run, because it was hot and I was not interested in having a heat stroke… So, I picked up the pace and made my way along the Arno to the Ponte Vecchio: my first stop was Vaggi. Vaggi is a jeweler who has helped me through many of my life’s difficulties.  When I failed my first exam, I got some earrings. When I was feeling down about turning 30, I got a gold bracelet… when I lost the bracelet 9 years later, they helped me replace it. I owe Vaggi a lot! 

I bought a bunch of frog jewelry a number of years ago. I started with the big ones and went to the little ones. I had gotten about 8 year ago the little frog earrings, and, in true Lauri fashion, I lost one about 4 years ago. I went directly to Vaggi when I got back here after losing it, and Carla (my favorite jeweler) had a new one made to match the one I had left. It was terrific and fast. And, I wear those little frog earrings almost every day.

Fast forward to last Monday, when I was unpacking my big suitcase. I heard a “plink” on the parquet floor in my bedroom.  When I moved my hand across the floor, guess what I found… Yep! A little 18k glad frog earring. That earring had been in the suitcase the whole time… But, now I had a dilemma. I have 3 earrings. I need a mate to the newly discovered frog. Enter Vaggi. I entered the store (I was the only customer) and immediately began my telling the saga of the missing frog. The lady behind the counter remembered me and said she would be happy to help even if Carla was retired. And help she did. I got the earring at a huge discount and now the little frog has its companion back. I bet you cannot guess who is going to be gifted these lovely earrings, newly reunited!

With that errand complete, I made my way toward the Piazza della Repubblica. I wanted to dash into the Santa Maria Novella profumeria mini-shop. I had a couple of items to grab. But, before I did, I saw the Puma shop had all the Italia soccer jerseys in the window. I popped in, if only to get some AC. As I was cooling down, I saw they had kid jerseys, too. I asked the young man working to help me. I needed a youth large. I showed him William’s picture with his coach to give the guy a visual. He said the youth large on the rack was the perfect one. I grabbed it, paid, and departed on my way, well cooled down.

Across the piazza, I found the Santa Maria Novella mini-shop. I entered and scanned the shelves looking for my favorite garofano cologne. The salesperson asked if I needed help. I asked if my perfume was available. Nope. The whole line was discontinued… so, I settled on the jasmine cologne and some shampoo, shower gel, hair mask and a gift soap for Julia Petrino’s mom. After chatting with the salesperson for a few minutes, both to practice my Italian and to take advantage of the fresh air, I set back out. I stopped in the piazza del duomo, took a picture, veered left toward  via Tornabuoni where all the posh shops are, and on the way back to the car. As I turned onto the road, a man, without a mask, and with a skin condition on his face, tried to get my attention. I ignored him and kept on my route. This must have annoyed him, as I heard a loud sound of spitting. It was a little unsettling and I hastened my step down the road.  When I was sufficiently away, I check my person and ascertained that he had not connected with me, (thank god). 

This is where I want to mention that most people are still wearing the mask outside in the city, since the government is still requiring it. In the country, most people are not wearing masks out and about. Seeing a person in the city center without one does give you a second thought. So, when I saw this man coming at me, I was on alert. However, it never once occurred to me that he would spit. In this era of COVID, bodily fluids are one of those no-nos. So, moral of the story is that even with COVID, the crazies are still out there, so beware!

I got back to my car with my wits about me and got back onto the road. By the time I arrived back to Castel del Bosco, I was completely back to myself. I am now listening to my American Classical League Institute (one of the benefits of COVID is that these meetings are all on Zoom…). Tomorrow is another day and another adventure!