Tag: porgi l'altra pancia

2022)

I don’t really split this out using date headers, as the days merged into one another.

Well, it begins. The most trialling sequence of days we’ve had to endure in Volterra yet.

It began well, though. We were having guests that evening! But first, it was a working day, so we had to do our duty. I remember very little of the day up to the evening, I have to admit. The only two photos I have are, unsurprisingly, food-related.

I think this was outside at Il Poggio again for lunch.

Once work was done, we were to meet Marisa and David at the free car park at Docciola. Bless them, I don’t know how they do it (and I hope I’m not shaming them here, and that they see the funny side of it), but they unfailingly manage to get lost every time they use an app that I’m going to call Schmoogle Maps, coz it sure isn’t Google Maps. It never plays ball. Today was no exception. A call or two later and they were set on the right path.

We parked (a little bit naughtily) near the Docciola gate itself so we could drive them up to town without them having to climb the 200 steps with their luggage. A municipale police car drove past and clocked us. They slowed down, but we indicated that we’d only be there a couple of minutes as a pick-up and they drove one. As well as driving into the carpark by entrances flush with the road, there is a ramped entrance which, if you’re not careful, will cause you to smack the underside of your bumper. A crunching sound announced the arrival David and Marisa. Their white Panda bore the brunt and Niamh and I both winced at the same time. Fortunately, the car didn’t looked marked. Anyway, we greeted with hugs and we drove them up to the resident’s carpark and walked back to the apartment.

We showed them around the town. They were lovely and suitably enthusiastic. Out by the main panoramic viewpoint at Piazzi dei Martiri, we met our friend Mary. During the course of conversation she mentioned that it was going to rain about 02:00 tomorrow morning. This is important for the happening later on (ooo, foreshadowing!).

I didn’t take many photos of video, as Marisa was filimg for her own channel and I wanted to be a bit more present for that. You can catch her footage here:

We entered the theatre to check it out, but also to look at the miniatures exhibition I visited with my brother before. I took some pictures of that at least.

That evening, we went to the seasonal restaurant Torre del Porcellino. The food there is damn good, and if you get a seat on the outside, you’ll have some pretty views of Volterra’s premium laneways. We got a seat inside, but had a fun time regardless. We may have had a few courses. As we were walking out I caught the unmistakeable smell of fresh porcini. The aroma is incredible – you just don’t get it with the dried/reconstituted variety. Another little explore followed, but it was mainly around the square.

And then home, to sleep, perchance to dream. Except something happened.

Not too shortly after 02:00, I was woken by the bedroom door opening, and Niamh gasping as she slowly hopped her way into the room. It frightened the crap out of me, as it really sounded to me that her breathing was laboured. So the light was switched on and it took me a moment or two to clear my mental cobwebs.

I soon realised that it wasn’t catastrophic in the real sense. No heart or pulmonary issue. She was limping heavily, however. Unfortunately, and this is nobody’s fault other than Fate’s, she’d left a nightie out on the washing line on the upper terrace and had remembered that it was going to start raining. So, she got it into her head to go up and grab it off the line to save her having to do another wash. She’d left the lights off and was relying on her nightsight. This was a harsh lesson to learn, in the harshest way possible. She missed one of the steps going from the terrace down into the kitched and fell awkwardly. She thought she heard a crack, and assumed it was a flip-flop hitting the floor (more foreshadowing).

Niamh had sprained her ankle badly once before, and the pain she felt was similar, so she assumed it was a sprain, and said that the hospital wasn’t necessary. She managed to get into bed and take a paracetamol, but then she started to shiver. It was definitely shock, so I threw a blanket over her. Niamh has an uncanny ability to sleep, certainly in comparison to me. Amazingly, she was asleep minutes later. It was me that spent the night catastrophising and being unable to sleep.

We got up and Niamh’s ankle wasn’t any better really. She thought it felt a little better, but there was absolutely no way she could put weight on the bad leg without serious pain. She got dressed with assistance and somehow managed to give our guests breakfast options, and saw them off with me – we had warned them that they’d have to leave the apartment early enough in the morning, as we were due to work that day. They were understandably sympathetic and lovely towards Niamh and wished her the best. At that stage we were both convinced that all she had was a sprained ankle. There were times that she thought it was getting better. We had one eye on the calendar, as we were due to fly back to Ireland in a few days.

We worked through the day, but I had to go to the pharmacy and pick up more painkillers, a pair of crutches, some bandaging and an icebag. I’ll spare you (and Niamh) pictures of the bruising.

Pain would come and go, and Niamh had to tell her work that she’d have to dip in and out as pain would often get the better of her.

I had to escape the apartment, not least to get food. There was a a Chocolate Fair, and I bought a stack of comfort choccies for us both.

Mmmm… chocolate… the smell alone was amazing

We read up on flying home with an injury, and were informed that we’d have to get a doctor’s note that Niamh was safe to fly. Ok, we were goosed. We’d have to either get to a doctor, or go to A&E (don’t translate directly – it’s known as pronto soccorso in Italian) in Volterra hospital.

We opted on the latter and contacted our property manager to see how best this could be facilitiated, as there was no way Niamh would be able to walk to the car, crutch or no crutch. We were told that the brilliant Misericordia service would bring us by ambulance to the hospital. We agreed a time for that afternoon, and our colleagues in work were very understanding, thankfully.

A couple of guys from the Misericordia arrived at the apartment front door, and had a contraption with them. I had seen something like this once before in our apartment block, and assumed that they’d need the same to get Niamh down the 4 floors of stairs. It is essentially a wheelchair, which can also motivate by adjusting caterpillar-style (i.e. tank) threads from the back. The last one of those I saw was powered by combustion engine and it was extremely noisy, especially given the sound could bounce around our cavernous stairwell. Fortunately, this one was electric.

Many towns have their own ‘Misericordia’ – essentially a voluntary ambulance service – and have had for centuries. In fact, there is a mini museum dedicated to the Volterran misericordia next to the cathedral. Anyway, they assisted Niamh into the chair, and off they went!

The chair alone weighs something like 50kg

I travelled in the ambulance with her to the side of the hospital grounds we’d never wanted to see!

She was taken inside, while I waited outside. Covid fears were still around, so I couldn’t join her, sadly. Niamh recounts that the whole process only took about 3 hours. I was thinking that this put our own A&E in Ireland to shame, but was informed weeks later by my Italian teacher that Volterra’s pronto soccorso is never as busy, because the town is so small. Anyway, Niamh also remembers them being very gentle and kind.

During the three hours, I messaged her and watched the sky turn some glorious colours.

The photos that Niamh came out with, however, were as interesting, on of them far more interesting!

Yep, her leg was broken – the fibula was, to be precise. They put her in a backslab cast so movement would be restricted.

We’d also have to go back the next morning, as the specialist wasn’t there to give her the note she needed to fly. We were delivered back to the apartment, including the upstairs climb, and paid the guys €50 (€25 per trip!). Well worth the money.

Soooo, we went back the next day. Same The specialist was busy, and so Niamh had to content with being left on her own for over an hour while other patients came and went. She didn’t quite know what was happening, and didn’t have sufficient of the language to be able to find out, so it began to be a little upsetting. Eventually an order/nurse took her to the specialist who typed up the letter for flying, plus a diagnosis for specialsts back home. He also said he could operate in one or two days. Niamh seriously considered it, but thought she’d find being back in Ireland more comfortable.

With a few clicks of a button, and a modicum of pride, he produced the letter and handed it to Niamh. She had a look at it, and couldn’t understand it. But she also could. It took her a few moments to realise the letter was in Irish – I guess translation was a feature of the tool he was using. Niamh had to inform him that most Irish people didn’t speak Irish, and so the nearby staff all had a good laugh at his expense. He good naturedly re-printed the letter in English and then sent her on her way.

Where was I? Well, I decided to walk certain areas around the hospital and on nearby roads to explore. I’m like a cat that way.

Chiostro delle Monache. It’s a hostel – you can stay here!

Then I began to walk some lonely roads indeed. I think my anxiety was a little above normal, thinking about Niamh’s predicament, hoping she was ok, and not least because some of these areas that were new to me had delapidated, sad looking buildings.

At the end of this particular road which was lovely, despite the collection of dead buildings, there lay a large house that was actually in-use and which had a garden attaching. I think you can hire parts of it to run new-age and alternative therapy sessions.

I took a different road back to the hospital area, and got some fab views of Monte Voltraio and the Val d’Elsa beyond.

I went back to the hospital, and picked Niamh up (metaphorically) and went back to the apartment.

Our friend, Mary, who gave us the weather portents of doom visited us with more chocolate gifts. We weren’t complaining. She also gave us some suggestions to promote healing. It was a very kind-hearted gesture. I’d texted all our Tuscan friends about our predicament, and they were so supportive – thanks, guys!

That evening, I took a stroll just to get out again, and for dinner I grabbed a couple of pastas for takeaway from Porgi l’Altra Pancia – it just lies at the apartment building entrance. We munched on that and spent our time screen-watching ’til bedtime.

The next blog is the last accounting of our time in Volterra that September, and will recall the last day, and the tortuous journey home, but until then thanks a lot for reading.

Please leave a comment or question – I’d love to hear from you.

The Devil’s Bridge and Bagni di Lucca (11/05/2022)

Plans! Sometimes they fall apart, and sometimes they not only come to fruition, but you find yourself adding to them as the day progresses. I am pleased to say that it was the latter for us – it was a good day!

I think that you can’t beat a good walk to start the day off, especially in a hilltown. I usually wait ’til mid-morning for a walk when I’m back home in Kilcullen, but early walks are best when the weather is going to be stinking hot!

I kept it within the walls at first, but then had a quick exit as I decided to batter myself with a walk out of the town through Porta San Felice and down past the CoOp and schools, finally entering by Portal all’Arco. It’s not too punishing a walk, but is still fab for cardio vascular. I was at first rewarded with views of colline islands and cloud lakes.

I approached and went through Felici, and didn’t take many photos until I hit the old Etruscan gate again.

After that walk, I was intending being a good boy, breakfast-wise, but Niamh had already kindly bought me a massive, cream-filled donut, not unlike a Roman maritozzi. I didn’t complain as I yummied it down. Once I had stuffed myself, we headed out to the carpark.

Tuscany’s landscape is so incredibly varied that at times it almost beggars belief. Vineyards and olive groves, crest along smooth rolling hills, flirting with ancient hilltowns and hamlets. You have other-wordly terrains like you would find in the Val d’Orcia, the Crete Senesi and Volterra’s own Balze area. Hills and mountains transform into plains and deltas on the coast where sea meets sand that varies is colour from black to yellow to pure honest-to-God white. There are islands with tropical-style waters. There are forests, mini-desert like regions, geothermal areas and, of course, alpine mountains in the north. You can ski in the Winter, and sunbathe in the summer. All within one region (for Irish readers, Tuscany is only about 90% of the area of Munster). Today, we would be heading northwards towards the more mountainous areas, and I would experience my first taste of ‘environment envy’ – once you get past the more heavily populated belt north of the FI-PI-LI highway (so-called, as it is the main free transportation artery that joins FIrenze (Florence), PIsa and LIvorno on one route). For a while you’ll find yourself drving in areas where one town merges into another.

The last time we drove to the Lucca province, back in December 2018 (before I started blogging), the drive was somewhat spoiled by us getting stuck behind trucks the whole time on the approach roads to Lucca. No such ill luck this time, we got to our first destination in good time – a little over an hour and a half. The Devil’s Bridge (aka in Italian as Ponte del Diavolo or Ponte della Maddalena – very poor form to associate Mary Magdalene with the devil, but there it is) spans the River Serchio, near the town of Mozzano. Mountainsides, lushly carpeted with forest and bushland, surround the whole area, making you wonder if you’re actually still in the same country, let alone the same region. The bridge itself is a bit of a jaw-dropper, with a larger arch towards one end of the bridge, giving the construction something of a lopsided appearance. It also makes it viciously sloped too. Nonetheless, it’s something of an engineering marvel, as well as an aesthetic masterpiece – and a practical boon to those needing to cross the river cenuries ago whilst on the Via Francigenca pilgrimage. It began life in the late 11th century, and has reuquired renovation throughout the centuries. Have a look at it!

The road from which the best shots can be taken is somewhat busy, so be careful, as on the one edge there is no footpath, and trucks power by. We spent about 20 minutes there and then drew the conclusion that we were both hungry. Now, there are a couple of places at the bridge, but we didn’t try them – they just seemed like tourist traps, and the Google review scores seem to indicate that too. We head back the way we came, and went over the more modern bridge into Mozzano.

We pulled into a supermarket carpark (second time of asking), and did a little shopping there at first. Seeing no warnings about being towed or needing a pay-and-display ticket, we left the car there and had a quick walkabout to see if there was somewhere we could have a sitdown lunch.

Sadly, one promising Osteria wasn’t open for lunch (remember this was in mid-May, on a Wednesday), and we couldn’t find anywhere else. We walked back to the car, and found another restaurant called Ristorante La Lanternina in a town about 6 or 7 minutes away called Fornoli, and Google proudly declared that it was open for lunch! We hopped in the car and got a parking spot immediately opposite the restaurant. It was getting quite warm at this stage – maybe pushing 27 or 28. We went to the restaurant and found it closed. I guess the owners hadn’t updated the times in Google – what a pity. We had a walk about the town.

We found Bar La Ruota Di Riccardo Franchi, which was one of those rare places where you could get drinks, sandwiches, salads, pizzas and gelato. During our meal there, I grew a strange fondness for Fornoli. It’s a modern town, and so you could argue that many of the buildings have little intrinsic charm-value, but it has a kickass bridge that looks like something off a steampunk movie set. I can’t put my finger on it – I just really liked the place. Maybe being at the bar and being treated so well helped. Sometimes you can’t explain the vibes you get. Niamh ordered a Caprese salad, and I got a speck and mascarpone pizza – both were tasty.

The bread was given freely and was lovely!

When we got back to the car, we had a decision ahead of us: go home, or head on to the town of Bagni di Lucca. We chose the latter, and had a lovely drive along the river, past Fornoli’s kickass bridge (why didn’t we stop there?!) and we hit the town maybe 10 minutes later. It seems to be in two parts. The first part is at Ponte a Serraglio, at one end of which is a cute piazzetta where a bar gives you a great view of the nearby bridge – we didn’t stop there, but headed on to the ‘main’ part of town.

Then there’s something of a lull in structures, before the town begins again around an elongated bend a couple of minutes later. We parked in the nearly-empty Conad carpark, prayed to the gods of free parking that we wouldn’t be clamped, and had an explore of the main part of town. But it was in the first part where I began to get my first bout of ‘environment envy’. I thought the place beautiful, and if there is one thing I miss ing Volterra it’s being able to be by running water (the fonts don’t count!). The second part sealed the deal. I would strongly recommend this place for a visit. We didn’t do a thorough explore, as we had blown a lot of the day, and still had a longish drive ahead of us.

We still enjoyed a lovely riverside walk, an explore of the town, we hit the communal park, and found a viewing point which gave us a vista over the rooves of the town. Below, you could hear the sounds of screaming schoolchildren as they enjoyed an afternoon break. Niamh was stopped by a couple of Austrian tourists as they were looking for a panoramic viewpoint from a supposedly nearby church. But she had to apologise, saying we were in the same boat – new to the area.

There was a fab walk by the river available.

We headed back to the car after our walk, and drove home. We covered the other side of the river, and parts of it were equally nice. We got home in good time, though. We will definitely do this trip again!

Here’s a video of some of our day:

Once back in Volterra, we immediately took to a mini bar-crawl, which is rare. Firstly, we had a beer in Brasseria del Grifone. We rarely eat in Piazza XX Settembre, as it’s tourist-central, but you can’t argue against a cool drink there under the shade provided by the trees there. My ginger-infused white beer was fab, but we got no nibbles. We headed then to enjoy a spritz/prosecco at Enjoy Cafe (Cafe Etruria was closed, sadly – we’ve never been there and we’re practically neighbours!). Not bad, but also no nibbles! On to Volaterra… could we strike out on snacks? No! We had nice wine and a spritz, and champion aperitivi food too – well done, gang! Finally, we had primo and dessert with wine at another of our neighbours: Porgi l’Altra Pancia.

We just about manged to haul ourselves upstairs for screen-watching a music-listening – anything to ensure digestion had begun before we headed to bed!

Thanks for reading this… if you have any questions or comments, please let me know! I’d love to hear from you.

Our Return in October (09/10/2021)

Time moved along, as it always does. I began to struggle a little more with work-based anxiety, and when I look back on it now (a little anxious/sad after having just come back after a Christmas visit), I see the fault really lay with me. My workload was not crippling, although it challenged me given my condition. I took on new things, and I am glad that I have been so well-managed throughout this stage of my life.

It must be remembered that when you are anxious, the quickest route to recovery lies through you. It look me ’til late November/early December to realise that (again!)… but… I’m projecting too far ahead.

In any event, Volterra proved, as always, a haven from my most of my symptoms. Oh, I always felt it lurking over my shoulder, but exercising my toolset always takes less effort when I’m back in Italy. I cannot rely on this, however. I should be the same no matter where I am or what I’m doing, more or less… Ireland or Italy, filiming/writing or watching the box, at home or exploring – it’s all the same in mindfulness.

Sorry about that! Back to the travel stuff!

We just went alone this time. The first thing we noticed: the airport was busier again this time, than when it was in early August.

It did me some good to see people together again, being people together again.

I think I had sandwich for brunch at the airport. Hard to remember – it was a functional meal anyway, as it always is in most airports! We boarded without fuss – this time opting for zero checked-in luggage, to enable us to move through Pisa airport quickly. I had taken a note of what I had and didn’t have in my inventory in Volterra – so I didn’t have much to bring with me, outside of some slightly warmer clothes and, of course, my tech.

I got some snaps from the ‘plane – well, mostly alps…

Once off, we had a little bit of a wait, as immigration officers took our temperatures (electronically), and so with only 2 officials available, they could only release us slowly for identification, in order to adhere (somewhat) to social distancing guidelines. Once through, we skidaddled outside and headed to Sixt for our car. This time, we managed to fulfil a years’-long ambition of driving a Fiat 500!

It was a manual for a change, but the tech within it wasn’t bad, and we found it super-easy to bluetooth our phones so we could use CarPlay – fair play, Fiat. We sent the email to the Volterran Municipal Police that our resident’s parking permit would be associated with a new car registration for a week. Niamh did the honours once again (she always drives from the airport – I don’t think I’ve ever driven to/from the airport, as a matter of fact!).

Because we arrived a little while after lunch, no places were open for food. We did what any self-respecting visitor to Volterra should do: we had a walk (after having left our luggage in the apartment)!

Yay! Grabbed this shot again in the afternoon, rather than the morning.

We stopped off for refreshments at L’Antica Velathri Cafe and L’Isola del Gusto, before continuing on our way.

Later on that evening, after we’d been back to the apartment, we went downstairs to Porgi l’Altra Pancia. If you’ve read my blogs before (or are Italian), you will know that the name of the restaurant means ‘grow another belly’. Both the name and their food make me smile.

The food there was as delicious as always. To cap it off, they are also such lovely and welcoming people. After growing another belly, we took in the town at night.

There’s Porgi l’Altra Pancia there on the left 🙂

If I recall correctly, it was the beginning of a dry, fine week for us – which was lucky as I think the weather was quite wet the previous week. I guess someone was smiling down on us!

And that’s it again for now. Please leave a like and a comment if you wish – questions and suggestions are also always welcome!