Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Murano and Burano, Venezia

I recently hopped on a train for a quick day-trip to Venice with my friend Helena. We had no itinerary, but our ultimate destinations were the islands of Murano and Burano. Murano, of course, is known for its glass whereas Burano is known for its beautiful colorful buildings and old-fashioned lace-making. We weren't particularly shopping for anything, either, but decided to keep an eye out for hats so we could glam it up for Helena's upcoming Kentucky Derby party. I also really wanted to use the occasion to take some photographs, especially in Burano. I'm drawn to bright colors and have a soft spot for cheerful buildings, and the day certainly did not disappoint!

I met Helena at her place downtown and we walked to the train station for a 0902 train. I think our tickets were around 10 Euro total per person, for a round trip on a Regional Velocity train. We got off at the Venice St. Lucia station somewhere around 1000 and promptly headed for the valparetto, or water taxi. I forget which number we took, but it took us directly to Murano and took about an hour. It seemed like a very long ride, but the boat was just putt-putting along and it probably would be faster in just about any other vehicle. Still, you can't beat 20 Euro for an all-day pass, since each single-fare ticket is six or seven Euro anyway. We hopped off in Murano and just wandered around for a while, taking it all in. We did some window-shopping and of course took some pictures, and really enjoyed the people-watching. It wasn't too crowded, but for a random Monday there were a fair amount of people. One unexpected treasure was a church museum we happened to stumble across. I think the entrance fee was only one or two Euro, and it had a great collection of religous items, from raiment to relics, carved pulpits and incense-holders, all sorts of random stuff. We weren't allowed to take pictures, so I would definitely go back in there to poke around some more and continue our made-up game of "guess the oldest object in the room." I really enjoyed the glass mosaics and installations which were scattered throughout the island, but after an hour or so we had about enough. We ended up getting on the wrong water taxi, and then getting off one stop too early, and having to walk to another stop altogether. I didn't mind, though, as it was a beautiful day for boat rides and meandering!



Once we got onto the proper valparetto route to Burano, it took us nearly another hour to island-hop. This taxi was more crowded than the first was, but we got a decent spot on the port side where we could enjoy the view - and the breeze. After making small talk with some of the other passengers - and acknowledging that yes, we are lucky to live in Italy - we hopped off the taxi and started making our way into the island. Our eyes were immediately caught by blooming cherry (or plum?) trees, wisteria and ivy covered walls, colorful buildings, and tourist trap shops full of beautiful art and lace. Come to think of it, I kind of want to go back for some art AND some lace! I did buy a small tablecloth, doing my part to contribute to the local economy. At that shop, we asked the salesman for a lunch recommendation. Some place not too touristy. He told us anywhere we chose to eat would be sure to have good food, but warned us that some places were more expensive than others. He directed us across a canal and down a few doors, and we selected outdoor seating under some colorful umbrellas. (I'm sensing a pattern here, anybody know a good synonym for "colorful"?) It ended up being a tasty and reasonably priced choice, and I had my first real Italian calzone! It was delicious, and enormous, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. We also ordered a small pitcher of Prosecco, which really hit the spot.



After lunch, we did more wandering and people-watching. I learned there's a leaning tower in Burano! It is the bell tower or campanile which belongs to the 15th century church of San Martino, and is a pretty visible landmark on the island. I'm pretty sure we circumnavigated it, and I even got a picture of a wall mural - of the tower. 1) Left picture appropriate from the hyperlink earlier in this paragraph. 2) Bird! (I snapped that one.) 3) Mural on the wall (I photographed that one but certainly didn't paint it!)


There were also some beautiful wisteria vines growing near the church that I just became obsessed with, and think I got some great photos of it. And I even got a cute snap of a good samaritan helping out another tourist with his photographer skills. The pictures never quite do justice to the real thing though, do they?



Speaking of people being helpful and taking pictures for others, look at this cutie pie shooting (I assume) his parents! He was so happy and proud to be of assistance, and I was happy and proud to capture the moment.


I got quite a few photos of other people's laundry hanging out to dry. I don't know why, but it always makes me happy to see laundry hanging out - sheets, socks, underwear, whatever. Maybe because it means the sun is out or something? Maybe I appreciate the domesticity of it all? In Burano, I certainly appreciate the clash of all the amazing colors.


Helena and I took the scenic route back to our water taxi, and walked along the water, through a small park where a couple was having a picnic, people were walking their dogs, and kids were running around playing on swings. Just a happy day in Italy! We cut through a little field, and I made a comment about looking for four-leaf clovers. And what do you know, I found three within about five minutes! It's only the second time I've ever found three in one go, and the last time was at Tony's Grampa's house in 2013. We took the number 12 valparetto back to Venice, and spent a few minutes window-shopping at the train station. Well, I say window-shopping, but we each ended up making purchases. I got a nice notebook and some tricolor peppercorns for grinding, and Helena found the most awesome umbrella - with a pirate sword handle, for ten euros! Epic.

It was a beautiful day, and I'm happy we got the experience to just wander along with no itinerary or pressure to be anywhere at a certain time. We stumbled across a few hidden gems and enjoyed the boat rides, the sunshine, and the small adventure of a day trip to a new place. La vita e` bella! I shall leave you all with a picture of a very cute Italian nonna, who I may or may not have followed for half a block to photograph...




Saturday, May 9, 2015

Lainey's First ER Visit

I managed to make it 32 years before landing myself in the ER, and I don't even have an epic story. It boils down to this, basically: I sat on a bug.

The end.

Just kidding! It's me, and it's Italy, so of course there's more to it than that. Allora. Tuesday morning I went to the volunteer office, sat down at the table, and put my purse in my lap. Almost immediately, I felt a stinging on the inside of my left leg. My initial thought was that something in my purse must have poked through and scratch me, but that lasted only about half a second before I thought maybe my purse had ants on it and they were biting me. I also quickly moved on from that thought, because I felt a very distinct stinging, not anything itchy. So I stood up and shook out my skirt, but dangit, that stinging was not fun. I decided to excuse myself to the bathroom so I could pull up my skirt and take a look. It wasn't very exciting up there (ha!), just a very tiny red spot. I thought, "Oh, I guess something did bite me."

I went back to the same spot at the table and immediately noticed a yellow jacket crawling on the edge of the chair. Ah, so that explains it. One of the other ladies in the office fetched her fly swatter and promptly decapitated said yellow jacket. Take THAT.

I got stung once by a yellow jacket when I was a kid, helping move or re-stack some firewood. It got me on the hand and I remember it sucked, but that's about all I remember because it was so long ago and probably very minor. Naturally, I was a little concerned about an allergic reaction, since some of my family are allergic and I don't know about myself. Google to the rescue! All of the information I read said to first remove yourself from the situation. Check. Then to remove the stinger. Uh, okay, back to the bathroom. No stinger, but a quarter-sized welt by this point in time, and lots of stinging and itchiness. Then ye olde internet doctors said take some Benadryl or something similar, and perhaps ibuprofen or something for the pain and swelling, and ice the area. Someone in the office kindly gave me a Zyrtec tab and I continued business as usual.

For the next two days, I experienced lots of itching and swelling, which I continued to counteract with OTC allergy medication and topical gel, and ibuprofen and ice packs. I even drew a little circle around the inflammation before bedtime on night two to see if it was continuing to swell or spread. By the third morning, it stopped swelling, hooray! I had some volunteer business tp attend to that day (Thursday) and everything seemed fine up until lunch time. I went home around 2pm and noticed that not only had my leg started swelling again, but it distinctly looked like a bulls-eye where the yellow jacket stung me.

There was a small white welt, a very dark pink (almost purple) welt that was starting to get red streaks through it, and a lighter pink circle about the size of a dinner plate on my leg. Whoa. At that point, I started to get a little nervous and think that perhaps this was not a normal reaction, especially since I'd been religiously following all the assvice about ice and medication. But not wanting to resort to more internet research, I decided to call the 24-hour nurse hotline. I described what was going on and the intake person said "Based on what you are telling me, I think we need to get you seen in the next four hours. Let me call your local area and see if we can get you set up with an appointment." After a very short wait, someone else came on the line and she identified herself as a nurse. She said, "Based on what you are telling me, and the fact that it is already 3pm in your area and your clinic closes soon, we are actually going to refer you to the ER." She gave me the location of the nearest hospital (there's only one) and we hung up.

That freaked me out a wee bit, but I decided there was no need to rush because other than the stupid swelling and itching, I felt otherwise fine. I figured if it was an allergic reaction I would have had it already, and that my sting was starting to get infected. Better safe than sorry though, right? I packed a little running bag with a change of clothes, toothbrush, deodorant, my medicine, a bottle of water, and a book. Having my bases covered, I drove myself to the hospital, which took about 15 minutes. I spent another 25 minutes circling various parking lots and growing ever-more frustrated, before I finally decided to exit the hospital lot and just park in a paid lot next door. I walked myself half a mile to the ER and stood in line. There were thirteen people in line ahead of me (including two nuns) and another 35 or so in the waiting room. I joked to myself, "Oh, there are nuns here? That means God is here. He will look out for me, too. As long as He doesn't give them ALL His grace."

It took a good 20-30 minutes for me to even get to the front desk, during which I read a few chapters of my book. I came well-prepared. I showed the nurse/admin/intake person my ID and he promptly got a translator on the phone. I explained I was stung by a yellow jacket more than 48 hours ago and had been referred to the ER when I called the nurse hotline. I think as soon as I said insect sting, they fast-tracked me for fear of allergic reaction, because I was immediately ushered into the adjacent exam room and they started taking my vitals.

Now, if you know me at all, you know that I am a Fainter. I capitalize it because it's just a fact of my life. I get nervous around doctors (we call that "white coat anxiety') and I'm not very good with blood. I get nervous when people tell me about their medical procedures and have been known to pull the car over while driving to put my head between my knees just because someone was trying to tell me about their wisdom teeth being removed. Glaucoma test? Fainted at the air puff in my eye. Dental exam? Fainted in the chair. Procedural consult? Fainted in the waiting room while waiting for a copy of my paperwork. And don't even get me started on blood draws. Just call me the fainting goat.

You see where this is going, right? Well, I didn't faint (at least not yet) but apparently my blood pressure and heart rate were elevated. They took my pulse three or four times in the span of a few minutes. Oh, and they took my temperature using an armpit thermometer! Been a while since I used one of those, but I guess it could have been worse...I told the translator I was just nervous, but they wanted to be sure. Next thing I knew, I was across the hall getting an EKG and giving a blood sample. The EKG was fine, and so was the blood draw. I even joked that it was just as bad as the initial yellow jacket sting. So, no fainting! I guess the nurses were reassured because they sent me back out to the waiting room. This was somewhere between 4:30 and 5:00pm. So I pulled out my book and settled in to read, trying to ignore the cannula on my wrist - that was a first for me. I took a few swigs of my water bottle, and had fun watching people try to figure out the automatic door: it wasn't so very automatic; someone on the other side had to press a button. I was in general good cheer, and made sure to let Tony know what was going on as best I could via FB messages. I also had a good friend (Thanks, Helena!) on standby in case I needed any assistance, ride home, etc. The waiting room kept getting more and more crowded and even though I was right by an open window, it was also quite warm. One of the nurses came out once to take my blood pressure and pulse again, and she smiled and said I seemed to be back to normal. So I kept reading and people-watching. Suddenly I felt myself getting a little woozy. I've fainted enough times to be able to recognize the symptoms, and usually I can head it off. The people across from me started pointing and looking for a nurse, and I grabbed my water bottle and took another swig. Then...I think I fainted?

At least, I got dizzy and I remember the people across from me springing up to help me out. And then I was in a reclining wheelchair in the lobby surrounded by people. So, yeeeah. That happened But all the people around me were so very nice. They fetched nurses and fanned me and offered me more water and kept me company even though none of them spoke English. The nurses took my blood pressure and pulse again, and ushered me in through the "automatic" doors to yet another waiting area. I thought, "Oh, well at least maybe this means I will be seen soon." The nurse told me there were "only" ten people in front of me in the queue. This was around 6pm, and I heard church bells outside playing some version of "Figaro." Hey, it's Italy, there are always church bells ringing, somewhere.

So I sat in THAT waiting room for another few hours. Eventually I gave up my fancy reclining wheelchair when the nurse walked in someone with an IV and there were no seats available. A dad put his 8-year old kid in his lap so I could have that seat. I did a few laps up and down the corridors, continued drinking my water, hit the restroom, took my allergy medicine and ibuprofen, and finished my book.At least three of the people in the waiting room with me were kids with broken arms. There was also one old lady with her arm up in a splint and a bandage on her head, and a teenager with her ankle iced and elevated. The waiting area and hallways just kept getting more and more crowded. I was really eyeballing the vending machine choices when I heard English being spoken. Another one of the patient liaisons was ushering in another military family, so I asked her if she knew how much longer it would be. She told me she had actually just checked on that, since she saw my name still on the list, and said there were eight people in front of me in the queue.  This was at 9:30pm, so we had a conversation about what it would mean if I just left, because I heard the nurse call out at least a dozen names in the last couple hours, so there were definitely people being triaged at the front desk who needed more urgent assistance than I did. Ultimately, I decided to just wait it out. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

Hospital waiting room was not this nice, and the chairs weren't this comfy.
My phone had long since died, so I started a new book, standing up for another hour just to get out of the horribly uncomfortable metal chairs in the waiting room. Finally, FINALLY, they called me into another exam room, I think around 12:30am. It took a few minutes for the liaison/translator to come down, but the nurse took all my vitals again and took a look at the sting site. No poker face, that one. We chit-chatted for a few minutes in a mixture of English and Italian, and the doctor and liaison came in a few minutes later. I actually understood most of what the doctor said, but it was still extremely comforting to have the translator there. Thumbs up, Army! The doc examined my leg and then took me to yet another room for an ultrasound. I never thought my first ultrasound would be on my leg! The gel stuff was kind of soothing, but otherwise it was not fun to have that wand pressing around on my sting site. Through the translator, the doctor explained that there was an infected area, about 1cm deep, the size of a baseball on my leg. That would be the dark part of the bulls-eye. And there was a shallower infected area everywhere else. I had no idea you could use an ultrasound machine to discover/diagnose infection, but at least it confirmed what we thought was going on. The doctor wanted me to get started on antibiotics and cortisone right away. I took a dose (of something, I dunno which actually) right there in the exam room, and then left with the liaison to do some paperwork and get counseling on the next steps.

I got a copy of my intake paperwork, EKG, blood draw, and the doctor's notes. The translator told me I could either get my prescription filled at an Italian 24-hour pharmacy and get reimbursed later, or since I already got some medicine at the ER I could just take the prescription in to the pharmacy on post later that day and get it filled there. I asked if I needed to see my primary care physician, and she said no. She assured me that she would email my provider the notes, and that she would put in the prescription in the morning so all I had to do was go in and get it filled. Since it was now 2am, I decided that was my preferred option

Ha.

HA HA HA.

Nope.

I got home and quickly updated both Tony and Helena that everything was okay, and slept in until about 8:30 or so. I cleaned up, ate, touched base with my wonderful, worried husband and assured him I was fine, and headed to post to pick up my prescription. The pharmacy said they didn't have anything in their system for me, so I asked the tech if she could call my primary care provider. They did, but the doctor was probably with a patient, so I was referred to primary care. When I showed up at the intake desk and said it was for an ER follow-up, and asked if they could check on the prescription for me, the very nice ladies said, "Yes, there is a note in your file from the patient liaison. I will have a nurse come talk to you."

After a short-ish wait, a nurse did indeed come talk to me. I explained what happened the night before, and she sort of unloaded about the hospital procedures. "They think we have a magic computer over here and that we can just magically fill prescriptions, sometimes for things we don't even stock, when there's no way to tell what they gave the patient or whether the patient already picked up the identical prescription from an Italian pharmacy." Naturally, I was taken aback by this tirade, and she must have seen it in my face, because she apologized and explained there are frequent issues like this happening. So she took my vitals, examined the site, and told me she'd contact my primary care provider, who had apparently already closed out my case thinking I picked up the medicine from an Italian pharmacy already. I was able to leave the clinic around 1115 and still make my 1130 volunteer luncheon at the Golden Lion, which was a very nice event. I had fun regaling everyone with my adventures, too. When the lunch was over, I checked my phone and saw the clinic called twice, so I started heading that way. En route, the nurse called again, and said the provider wanted to meet with me, and asked if I would be available at 2:30. Sure, what other option did I have at this point??? So I went back to the volunteer office, did some admin, checked my email, and killed an hour before heading back to the clinic. You know the routine: check in, intake, wait, see the doctor. Who was ever so nice and gracious, and commiserated about the nasty Italian bugs. She examined my leg and seemed less convinced that it was infected and thought it was just a bad local reaction, but she still decided to prescribe me an antibiotic, cortisone pill, and topical cream. So BACK to the pharmacy, and I was out of there by 3:30. Twenty-four hours after I called the nurse hotline in the first place, I had a prescription in hand, whew. Take with food, don't drink alcohol, yada yada. I still itch, the topical stuff doesn't do jack, my stomach seems fine with the meds, and ice seems to be the best/most effective treatment at this point. I picked up pizza for dinner yesterday, and fell asleep somewhere around 7 o'clock. I woke up at 11 and put myself to bed, and slept almost straight through to 10:30 this morning. I guess I needed it after all my adventures and back-and-forthing this week.

So that's the tale of my yellow jacket sting. But you should have seen the other guy.

(Wocka wocka!)


Monday, May 4, 2015

Padova/Padua

It's no secret that Tony is gone, and will be for, oh, let's just say a little while. I have no job to keep me busy, and even school and volunteer work don't fill all of my hours. So what else am I going to do, housework? Please. I've been filling my free time with all of the above, with a little car repair paperwork, yardwork, and travel thrown in. "But Elaine," you say, "how can you travel when your car is broken?" AHA! Did you forget I live in EUROPE? Oh, sorry, I probably shouldn't rub that in.

I live in Europe, I live in Europe, neener neener neener.

Ahem. Okay, that's out of my system. I promise.

But I've been fortunate enough to have taken three trips in the last two weeks, all of them utilizing public transit or the power of groups to rent a bus. My friend Helena was also temporarily spouse-less, so we have hopped a couple of trains (and a few water taxis) and gone exploring. Our first trip was to the neighboring city of Padova, referred to as Padua in English. I'd say that I'd never been there before, but that would be a lie because Ikea. Really, I've been to Padua a half dozen times, and even once went beyond Ikea and promptly got lost and frustrated at the broken car so we turned around and came back. So it was nice to head back with no agenda. Helena and I hopped a ten a.m. train and were happily wandering around well before 11, all for the low cost of around four euro! While the weather was pleasant in the morning, I was happy I brought my little rain shell with me, as the skies opened up later in the day. Our very first stop was a little park, which had plenty of blooming trees and a beautiful fountain. Of course we had to stop and gush over the koi and turtles before moving along.

Orange koi, bottom right
At the bustling Pedrocchi Cafe
We headed toward the University, but made a pit stop at one of the oldest coffee shops in Italy - the Pedrocchi Cafe. I think construction started in the 18teens, and it opened up around 1830 and has since been expanded, though it's been continuously open for nearly two hundred years. To put that into perspective, that's roughly when Andrew Jackson became president and the Oregon Trail opened, and pre-dates the Battle of the Alamo. Pedrocchi is also known for their pastries, and is attached to a museum. The cafe has a strange shape to it, and is known for some of its annexes. One in particular, the green room, is known as a gathering spot for students, who are welcome to sit and enjoy the heat in wintertime without having to order anything. Of course, everything is so beautiful and delicious that I'm sure they always buy something anyway. Helena had a Prosecco and I had limoncello; even though it was early in the day I still think those were great choices! We dithered over macarons, but our willpower ultimately prevailed, I'm sad to say.

Odes to Galileo are everywhere!
We stumbled across a restaurant/pizzeria and Helena recognized the name, so we decided to eat lunch there. I now have a new favorite pizza place! It's too bad it's in Padua, because both of our choices were excellent. I got a pizza with artichoke hearts, olives, red peppers, and gorgonzola, and Helena's had pickled cabbage, olives, and mushrooms. After lunch, we stumbled a giant market and spent a few minutes wandering through it before setting off for the University's Hall of Giants or Hall of Heroes. Padua is known as an intellectually important city, as Dante, Petrarch, and Galileo all lived and studied there. The University - the oldest in Europe - houses the Hall of Giants, which dates back to the 1300s and has been remodeled, refurbished, and rebuilt several times. At one point the building housed the University library, and the third floor is currently the home of the Museum of Archaeological Sciences and Art. We just took a quick peak and then headed back toward the market.

At the Hall of Giants
At the Hall of Giants
Dante
Watch out for cyclists in Padua!
We wandered through the Prato della Valle, admiring the vendors' wares and all the statues surrounding this giant oval. This is the second-largest square in all of Europe, and in addition to the market, there were also people setting up for the next day's marathon, so it was a great place to people watch. We sat down under a little tent for a few minutes, and then set out to explore some of the nearby churches. We struck out then, I guess because we made this attempt during riposo, but decided we should probably start making our way to the Planetarium. We found it with no problems, but since we were early and encountered a little bit of rain on the way, we decided to find a hang-out spot. It took a few blocks to find one, but we settled on a little neighborhood bar. The best thing about it was a nearby restaurant used two-story bicycles for deliveries, so we had fun watching the guys cruise by on their very tall bikes as we sat and sipped our (terrible) wine. We were there for probably an hour, but left half the wine on the table because it was just not very good. Oh well, at least it was cheap!
Flower and Plant Vendors

Prato della Valle
Meandering the halls of vendors
The Planetarium show is only held in English once a month, I think. Helena did her research though, and reserved us tickets for an English showing, so we entered the dome and quickly appropriated the best seats for ourselves. The reclining seats reminded me of a scene from Sweet Home Alabama, where the redneck dad Earl shows the Mayor of NYC his fancy new armchair, which reclines somewhat violently. After we got over the shock of tilting back, we settled in for the show. Surprise surprise, it was narrated by Mark Hamill! I never would have known that though, if I hadn't been paying attention to the credits. There were two short films, and they were interesting enough, but I definitely caught myself dozing a few minutes into the first one. Whoops. The graphics were a little dated, but I'm still glad we went. There was even a bonus segment at the end which talked about Halley's Comet over Padua, which influenced a famous piece of nativity art by Giotto di Bondone in the Padua  Scrovegni Chapel! Oh did I mention he painted the chapel between 1300-1305, and the painting depicts the comet's 1301 appearance? We actually tried to visit the chapel, but tickets were sold out the day we wanted to go; they only allow in 25 people at a time, four times a day, for climate control purposes. But now that I've seen it on a video, I don't need to see it in person! Just kidding; I would love to go see it some time, as the chapel is really important in terms of art history. (Now many artistic renderings of the nativity feature a comet instead of the Star of Bethlehem, and di Bondone is credited for this.)
di Bondone's Halley's Comet Nativity in the Scrovegni Chapel*
After the Planetarium showing, we decided to head back to the train station, as it was starting to rain pretty good. I put on my jacket, raised the hood, and we set out on our merry way. Flash forward 45 minutes and I looked like a drowned rat, thanks to some accidental misinterpreting of maps. #touristproblems It wouldn't have been so bad, except of course we were walking INTO the wind and rain, and my feet were starting to hurt from all the walking. Oh well, we made it back to the station safe and sound, and were happy to get onto the dry train. We got back to Vicenza and had to walk in the rain for about a mile, but I think that was even worse because we were already chilled and stiff from sitting on the train. I turned on the heated seat feature in the car and ran a hot bath when I got home, and I considered that an excellent ending to a very satisfactory outing.

*Photo from the Planetarium's website http://www.planetariopadova.it/

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Soave

I recently had the pleasure of visiting the Bonamini olive oil azienda just outside of Soave with some of my volunteer friends. And one of them had a visitor from the States to round out the group. I learned the official way of tasting olive oil, which is a little bit strange; saw a "baby" olive tree that was about 120 years old; toured the warehouse where olive oil is made; and saw some very old restored olive presses. If you ever get the chance to visit, I think you should! My friend Cara went the same week with a different crowd, and her blog post about it is a great summation: Cara's Bonamini Experience



After our olive oil-tasting (and buying) experience, we continued down the road to the city center of Soave for some wine-tasting! We were hoping to visit the Soave Cantina, which is known for its fantastic cellar, but they were booked. Instead, we went inside the city walls to Coffele, where they were ready and waiting for us. We walked through a gorgeous wisteria-covered courtyard to their tasting room. I have to say, I love the typical Italian wine-tasting experience; if you call ahead, 9 times out of 10 you will arrive to a beatifully set table with a spread of meat, cheese, and crackers. Coffele was no different. Our wine sherpa spoke six languages and had just returned from a conference in Germany, so she stumbled between the three languages a few times. It was pretty funny, but she did a great job telling us about their wines and the wine-making processes they use. Coffele produces 120,000 - 130,000 bottles per year, and exports to a dozen or so countries, including China, Japan, Denmark, and Canada. I left with a bottle of Amarone, and would like to go back to purchase some of their Bordeaux blend Nuj. Note for future reference: Coffele only accepts cash, so come prepared.
 
Inside the Coffele courtyard


Pronounced "New-wee"
 
Inside Coffele's cellar
Inside Coffele's tasting room
After wine-tasting, we went to a local trattoria for lunch, where I had...um, I forgot. But it was delicious, whatever it was. I usually order the duck bigoli, because I love to compare different versions of it, but I went with something different this time. Papardelle, I think. Oh well, I would go back! We were there on a market day, but didn't have time to wander around. Soave is a walled city and you can visit the castle and walk on the walls, so I'd like to go back sometime and make a day of it: taste wines, walk the walls, and eat good food.  

Visitors

I was very happy to host my long-time friend Ally and her friend and roommate Bailey, on their spring break from studying abroad in Barcelona. What a tough student gig they have; I'm sure they really needed the break...They flew into Venice on a Thursday night and we hit the ground running Friday morning with a wine-tasting trip to Valpolicella country, which is just north of Verona. Luckily we had a rental car, otherwise our car never would have survived the twisty-curvy hilly roads. I would go back to that area just for the scenery, but the wine is an excellent inducement to go back!

View from Le Bignele
Our first stop Friday morning ended up being our favorite of the day. We caravanned with some work and volunteer friends, Brenda and Will. Brenda made tasting reservations for us at Le Bignele, which was located at the end of a very narrow gravel road. We probably would never have found it if we didn't know it was there, but the views, friendly host, and excellent wine made it well worth it. We tasted five or six wines, as well as a few kinds of local meats and cheeses, with an excellent chocolate biscotti. We enjoyed all of the wines, even the white wines which tend to be our least favorite, and especially enjoyed their Amarone. It was a fantastic value, too. The girls bought wine for their parents here, and we left with our cars more full than they were when we left the house that morning!

Le Bignele cellar
Our second stop was La Recchia, which was on our tasting list because we like one of their wines, the Muriae, very much. We met a couple more friends, Krista and Jody, here. Even though we had a tasting appointment, the customer service at La Recchia was extremely disappointing. I probably wouldn't go back there, even though we liked a couple of the many wines we tasted. I should point out, we ended up pouring these wines ourself because the winery host basically ignored us, and answered very few of our questions. After visiting this winery, we stopped at a local trattoria for lunch, and it was delicious! When we walked to the seating area, we passed several tables full of fresh papardelle noodles, which became a welcome part of our meal. We all enjoyed our choices and each ordered a dessert. I had probably the best tiramisu of my time in Italy thus far, and everyone else raved about their choices, as well.
Fresh papardelle

Ally and me enjoying the view at La Recchia

















We made one more stop before heading home, but it isn't even worth mentioning. When we got home I made a quick turnaround for the Red Cross Canteen, and left the girls happily researching train schedules and lodging options for the next leg of their trip. The plan was to have stir-fry for dinner, but we forgot to take chicken out of the fridge to thaw (whoops!) so we ordered pizza instead. Darn, pizza in Italy.

Saturday morning we plopped the girls on a train to Venice, and Tony and I met some friends at Pigafetta Coffee Shop (the best!) to visit for a while before taking a tour of the Roman Criptoporticus in Vicenza. The Criptoporticus was only discovered in 1954, during repair efforts to one of the local churches that was damaged during WWII. Some very nice volunteers met us at the entrance and we descended two short flights of stairs for the tour. Thankfully there were some English handouts, because our combined language skills weren't quite good enough to converse easily, and there were some really neat facts about the house. Basically we walked through a u-shaped corridor with a number of windows, that used to be the corridor to a Roman home on a major thoroughfare. There were a couple of small rooms off to the sides, which were used to house water and I think as an entrance/exit for servants or slaves. After the tour, we went to Vicenza's main square and had spritzes while we people-watched. We sat there so long, we ended up ordering lunch and a bottle of Prosecco, too! The weather was fantastic (Tony even got a little sunburned) and it was nice to visit and enjoy the day.
Artistic rendering of the Criptoporticus
Inside the Criptoporticus
Vicenza on a Saturday
On Sunday we left Tony at home to relax and catch up on yardwork. To me, those things are mutually exclusive, but what can I say? He's a weirdo. Bailey, Ally, and I went to the town of Camisano to explore their Sunday market. I bought about two pints of strawberries for two euro. Then we headed to the train station for the girls to purchase tickets to other places in Italy for the second half of their break, and had lunch and drink in Vicenza. We walked around for a few minutes so they could see the highlights, and then we hopped in the car to Brendola. We stopped at the unfinished church, walked up to the Rocca dei Vescovi, and then hiked on a gravel road for a few minutes. After we got our fill of hiking, we drove through some vineyards and then came back home. I cooked dinner and afterwards we played Yahtzee and munched on champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries, and Venetian cookies, which the girls thoughtfully brought back from Venice as an anniversary present for me and Tony. It was a short visit, but a sweet one!



Ally and Bailey at Rocca dei Vescovi
Feet pic, or it didn't happen!

Celebratory Champagne