ADVENTURES PART II - 26 August 2011

26th August 2011 Continued.  

Tuesday was another Gianni Day. Beginning at 9 with Pip, Joel and I in our car and Ben keeping Gianni company in the pick-up. Lord knows what they talked about, or how, but we could see them both gesticulating like, well deaf-mutes is what I would have said before the PC police came into existence.

We stopped first in Grosetto at the equestrian shop to visit Andrea. Andrea is a world champion saddle-maker as well as a painter and sculptor and he is the one who makes the bags that Gianni designs.

Next stop, the Lambretta Caffe, where, while enjoying a perfect macchiatta you can admire Lambretta's vintage scooters, one of which resembled the one my brother owned in the 50's and which brought back lovely memories of rides that he and I took when I was about 12. 

I remember the pride of being seen with my big brother - who by then was an ancient 20 and very good-looking. I remember that show-off feeling as I swung my leg over the pillion seat, sure that everyone must be looking on with envy. And I remember particularly, a long evening ride home, the evening becoming night, the slight chill of the air, my hands loosely holding his waist, our bodies leaning in easy union around the bends, the headlamp's V of light in the dark and the utter contentment to be sharing this silent experience with my bro, the first man to show me love.

Macchiata's and memories over, we crossed the street to Tomasini"s Bike Shop - Tomasini being the world famous cyclist, who now, at 80-ish, walks with a cane having recently been knocked of his bike by a driver running a stop sign. Ben who is a cyclist himself and has made a series of videos on Italian bike-makers http://www.beningham.com/  was in absolute heaven. Pip and I were bored to tears, but eventually Pip was able to drag him away and the 5 of us headed off to lunch at the place we'd lunched at with Gianni just over a week before. The food was as simple and succulent as the last time and we downed, between us, pasta with clam sauce, seafood risottto, and pasta with fish and tomatoes.

And then we hit the beach.

As I've mentioned, we're in the second week of a heatwave and the sand was so hot we had to walk in the water, which we did, leaving the masses to their crowded patch of beach and walking some 500 yards further on to where there was no-one and nothing but sea, sand and driftwood.

These next few hours were perhaps some of the happiest of our lives. The men, showing their primitive prowess, built Bedouin-style shelters from driftwood, bits of fabric and string. And so we lolled, in and out of the water every 10 minutes, the water a pale turquoise beneath an immaculate sky, the water itself calm and of a temperature both easy to enter and yet cooling to the sun-baked skin. 5 grown-ups, ranging in age from 42 to 73, the years erased, leaving us all adolescent.

Suddenly, Gianni, telling us he had to make a phone call, gets up and walks back down the beach, returning 15 minutes later with a freezer bag filled with vanilla ice-cream on a stick, covered in the thinnest, darkest chocolate. Does it get any better than this?

And so the hours pass. In the sea. Out. In. Out. 

   Ben Ingham

Giglio and Elba pale grey triangles on the horizon. 

A beautiful African woman with a sad face walks by with a basket balanced on her head, truly making us feel like wash-a shores on a distant land. And then the giant, wooden knob appears.

I think is was Ben who first noticed it, some 50 yards down from us. A spectacular piece of penile driftwood, looming over the water's edge. Ben and Joel went off to shoot it and then suddenly Gianni literally galloped over to them (he tends to gallop when he has a good idea) whipped of his swim trunks and sat astride the darn thing: the italian stallion.

Not to be outdone, and urged on by the men, Pip takes her turn, showing splendid form and the brilliant attitude of a fine actress, which in fact is her passion at the moment and she will soon be appearing in a performance piece in London, co-written by her and a fellow actor.

   Ben Ingham

In retrospect I'm just a little sad that we didn't stay the night, lighting a campfire, huddling together under our canopies. But at 6 we decided to head back and make dinner.

This time I kept Gianni company and together we made up the evening menu, which unfortunately got left to the others to cook as when we got home Joel had a studio emergency to deal with, while I had to deal with the lawyer and realtor as the contract had just arrived. While Joel and I spent a tense hour taking care of business the others, joined by Luana, moved our kitchen table outside, assembled the most amazing dinner and set the table with cloth and candles.

And right out there, in what we call our gravel patch, the 6 of us feasted under the stars, conversing in Italian, English, French and American.

   Ben Ingham

At dawn the next morning while the moon was still in the night sky and the first red blush of dawn came creeping over the hills Gianni took Ben and Joel for a walk in the wild woods, while I hung the laundry on the line and sat outside watching night lighten into day.

And now it's Friday and I'm feeling the first sadness of our imminent departure. We have 2 more days, but they are days of breaking down the house and equipment of packing and goodbyes.

   Some of Gianni's furnishings that helped make this house our home 

It's a bit wrenching. We will miss this simple Tuscan life, the tranquillity, the farm sounds and smells, the contadini. We'll miss hanging the laundry on the line, breakfasting outside in the cool early morning. We'll miss the naps in our darkened bedroom, the evenings sitting in our deck chairs sharing our love and gratitude for this late-life adventure.  We'll miss the butchers and the shepherd, Silvia and Vincenzo. We'll miss the walks along the road gathering wildflowers. We'll miss Luana's lyrical laugh, her quiet, simple wisdom and lord knows, her culinary art. And Gianni? We can't even go there.

Yet life being the 50/50 proposition it is, we're also experiencing the first bubbles of joy to be seeing our children and grandchildren again. We're looking forward to soaking in our bathtub, sinking into the comfort of our own bed and watching the sunset over the Hudson. We're excited to be catching up with friends, going to Joel's godson's wedding, eating our favorite toasted spelt bread and shopping for supplies for Provence.

Yes. Provence. Here we come again.