Planes, Trains, Ubers, and Automobiles

We started the second phase of our Sabbatical journey early on Saturday, April 27.  We had experienced high winds on Friday afternoon and we lost power at the house.  When we tried to drive into town, a tree had fallen over Old Mountain Road and it was around 7:30 p.m. when we left the neighborhood.  We enjoyed supper with Ella Rae who told us she “guessed” she would be able to make it for 13 days while we were gone.

        We returned home to a darkened house and went to bed hoping the power would be on before we left around 6 a.m. Saturday morning.  Sure enough, around midnight almost every light in the house came on and we could leave knowing the house was secure and all was well.

        We didn’t have to worry about traffic on a Saturday morning and we pulled into the Park N’ Go at the Charlotte airport shortly after 7 a.m.  Our luggage was unloaded and I handed the attendant my key as we boarded the shuttle for the terminal.  We like parking here when we travel out of Charlotte.

        Security was unusually tight, but we were at our gate an hour before boarding.  People ask me why I’m always early.  I get that from my grandmother.  “You never know when you might have a flat tire,” she would say as we would arrive at the train station three hours before departure.   She also said we should always have clean underwear on in case we were in an accident and had to go to the emergency room.

        Our flight to Huntsville was early and after we claimed our luggage my brother, Jon, was pulling up in his big Ford pickup.  The care of my mother has fallen all on Jon’s shoulders.  Our brother, Robert, died nine years ago.  Our sister, Nancy, has significant health issues.  Mother is in a Nursing Home just a few miles from Jon’s house.  Jon and his wife, Carol, take care of Mother, checking on her frequently, washing her clothes, and dealing with any issues that come up.  Jon is the Power of Attorney and handles all the finances.  I honestly don’t know what I would do without Jon and Carol.  I feel guilty that I cannot visit Mother more often, but Jon insists that all is well.  He says I am where I am supposed to be and so is he. 

        After dropping our luggage off at Jon’s house, Joyce and I drove to Valley View Nursing Home.  I was encouraged when Jon told that the previous Sunday, Easter Sunday, Mother had a great day.  She was alert, her voice was strong, and her mind seemed to be just fine.  As we were walking down the hallway to her room, I saw that she was sitting in a wheelchair in the hallway.  I smiled and walked up to her.  “Hey Mother,” I said.  

        She did not respond.  All she had was a blank stare.  There have been times before that she never called my name, but I felt like she knew me.  This was the first time that she did not know me.  

        But . . . she knew Joyce!   I leaned over and pointed to Joyce asking, “Do you know who this is?” 

        “Joyce,” she whispered.  

        It was a bad day.  Jon had said her voice had been strong on Easter, but today it was very weak and we could barely hear the few things she tried to say.

        We sat with Mother, mainly in silence, for the rest of the morning until it was time to take her to lunch.  We tried talking to her but she could not engage in conversation.  When I left her in the dining room during our last visit she became upset with me, but this time she expressed no emotion. 

        When Joyce and I returned after our lunch, Mother was sitting in a commons area with the other patients.  She saw me and smiled.  That was the closest she was all day to any recognition.  We sat together and then Mother told Joyce that there was something she had wanted to tell her, but had never had the chance.  It was very hard for Joyce to hear her words, but she was telling about having to live with her grandmother when she was a child. 

        Mother became an orphan at age six and the children were divided between several relatives, none of whom wanted them.  They were mistreated in many ways.  Mother had a very difficult childhood.

        At this stage in her life, suffering from Alzheimer’s, her mind is taking her back to those painful days.  It tells you what a profound impact it had on her life.  

        Joyce suggested that I take Mother on a ride around the nursing home.  It is a huge facility.   We went to the back, in the Rehab section, and found a large window overlooking a big field.  We sat for a while.  I would comment on the beautiful blue sky, a passing bird, the wind that was blowing, and other simple things.  However, none of it seemed to register with Mother.   We went back to find Joyce.   She had been entertained by a visiting preacher and some members of his flock who were singing to the residents.   An assistant came and said she would put Mother to bed.   We sat with her for a while and she soon drifted off to sleep.   We decided it was best to slip out while she was sleeping.

        I wonder if Mother even remembered us being there when she woke up.  I doubt it.   Alzheimer’s is a terrible disease.

        We had a special treat when our nephew Drew, and his son, Lane, joined us for dinner.  It was Lane’s 12^th birthday and we were glad we could celebrate with him.   Joyce and I love our grandchildren and they bring us much joy.  I thought how sad it is that my brother, Robert, is not here to enjoy special events like his grandson’s 12^th birthday.

        But my brother, Jon, has become like a grandfather to Lane and all of Robert’s grandchildren.  Robert would be proud of Jon.  I know I am.

        Jon and Carol’s son, Jake, is in Med School at UAB, so Jon told me that they were happy to give us a ride to Birmingham to catch the train.  We left early—Jon also has inherited the “You never know when you’re going to have a flat tire” mentality from our grandmother—and had a wonderful lunch with Jake at a very unique seafood place in downtown Birmingham.  Jon showed us the very small building that was nothing more than a seafood stand where the restaurant started.  When Jon was working on the ambulances (He is now CEO of HEMSI), this was a favorite place for the EMTs to go after making a run to UAB Hospital. 

        Jake seems to be doing very well in Med School.  He is an outstanding young man with a level head on his shoulders.  He is disciplined and determined.  I have no doubt that he will excel in Med School.

        After saying good-bye to Jake, Jon and Carol gave us a quick tour of the massive UAB campus in downtown Birmingham before taking us to the new, modern Amtrak station.   The train was running about 45 minutes late, which is not uncommon for the Crescent.  They have combined the Amtrak station with the Greyhound Bus depot.  Several cities have done this including New Orleans. There are big screens giving you the latest information on the trains and buses. 

        We checked our two big bags and waited until the announcement was made to proceed to the platform to await the arrival of Amtrak # 20, the northbound Crescent.   Passengers in the sleeper cars boarded toward the back of the train and the coach passengers boarded at the front.

        We reserved a bedroom which gives us more room than the smaller sleeping compartments.   We have a private bath that doubles as a shower.  There are very comfortable seats.  Each sleeping car has an attendant who will prepare the room for sleeping at night.  The lower bed is a little larger than a twin bed and there is an upper bunk that folds down.   One of the nicest things about having a sleeper is that your meals in the dining car are included.   The Crescent has a full-service dining car that prepares three meals a day.  The meals are cooked on the train in a full kitchen.  You are also seated with other passengers and we met some delightful people who ride on the train.

        We opted for first seating at dinner and were seated with two sisters from Pennsylvania who had been visiting their mother in New Orleans.  They spent a week with her.  Her husband had recently died and she is all alone, except for her faithful dog.  They had a very special visit with her and hated to say good-bye.   We talked about traveling.   They wanted to hear all about Italy and said while they had traveled there when they were in school, they wanted to go back.

        The meals on Amtrak are very good.  Joyce and I both had their signature Flank Steak which was delicious and cooked medium rare, exactly the way we like it.   We started with a generous salad, warm bread, and had delicious strawberry cheesecake and a chocolate bunt cake with caramel for dessert. 

        Claude was our waiter and he had a great personality.   He made announcements on the train that made you want to visit the dining car and especially enjoy the experience with your fellow passengers.   While the meals are included, I tipped Claude and he said that I had blessed him and the others in the dining car.  

        We were getting close to Atlanta.  I told Joyce that we would enjoy our arrival into Atlanta, then go to bed.   However, shortly after returning to our bedroom the train stopped.   A freight train in front of us had broken down.  We sat still for the next three hours.  

        Our attendant turned down our beds and we prepared for a wonderful night sleeping on the rails.  Joyce was concerned about me climbing up to the top bunk.   I told her that I could step on the lower bed, grab the handrail, and pull myself up.  I tried, and I know I could have done it 25 years ago, but this old Medicare Card Carrying Senior Citizen couldn’t quite make it.

        “So, how are you going to get up there?” Joyce asked.

        I went to plan B.   I stood on the sink and then I could more easily pull myself up on the bed.   I got down by holding the handrail and lowering myself down to the lower bed, but I did have to stand on the sink to get back up to the top.  Once we were all in place we turned out the lights.  We were still sitting on the tracks, outside of Atlanta.

Not long after we turned in, the train started moving and we stopped in Atlanta close to midnight.  I often think of how comforting it is to sleep on the train, with the click-clack of the rails and gentle swaying of the cars.  I will admit that it was rather rough night with the train changing tracks frequently.  I can sleep most anywhere, but I woke up several times.  There was something that kept rocking back and forth in a small compartment, making a noise every time the train moved side to side.  The next morning, I found out what it was.  It was the ladder to the top bunk!

        I woke up around 6 a.m. when the train came to a stop and looked out the window.  We were in High Point.  I saw the sun rise in Greensboro.   We were rolling into Danville when we went to the dining car for breakfast.  We both enjoyed an omelet with some delicious hot grits and Applewood bacon. 

        Claude seemed to have a knack for seating the right passengers together.  I heard him say, “This is a lovely couple and you will have a wonderful time eating breakfast with them.”

        That was when we met Dr. Durussia Jenkins.  I don’t usually begin a conversation by telling people I am a minister.  Depending on how the conversation goes, they may never know.   But it didn’t take too long into our conversation before Dr. Jenkins said, “Wait a minute!  Are you a preacher!  I knew it!   This is a setup!”

        She had been on a book-signing tour for her newest book, “Before the Stone,” which tells the story of her mother’s amazing life and describes extraordinary encounters Dr. Jenkins has had with angels.  She said her mother had several encounters with death, but had come back defying every logical and medical rationale.  When I said something about her mother’s “near-death” experiences, she corrected me.  “No,” she said.  “Not, near death---she was dead every time.”

        I shared a few “extraordinary” stories with Dr. Jenkins.  We talked about the Holy Land.  She promised to send me a link to her book, which she did. 

        We made our way back to our bedroom where our attendant had the room ready for daytime travel.  We traveled through Lynchburg and Charlottesville.  The rolling Virginia hills, beautiful farms, old houses and the many fields and streams that Thomas Jefferson knew so well made our journey go by quickly.   We were soon crossing the Potomac, gliding by the Jefferson Memorial and going through the tunnel to Union Station in Washington, DC.

        We claimed our bags and went to the taxi area where we found a taxi and made our way to the Marriott Marquis.  We have stayed in this beautiful hotel before that is located beside the Washington Convention Center.  We were upgraded to a larger room that overlooked Massachusetts Avenue and also given access to the Marriott lounge that provides a delicious breakfast.  Since it was already 2 pm we decided to forgo lunch and have an early dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, the Old Ebbitt Grill located across the street from the White House.  This historic old restaurant has been hosting famous politicians since the days of Theodore Roosevelt.   The old bar, the gas lights, the stunning paintings, and even some of Roosevelt’s game trophies that hang over the bar make this a destination in itself. 

        And then there is the food.  We had clam chowder which was maybe the best we have ever tasted.  We have always loved Legal Seafood.  Their clam chowder has been served at every Presidential Inaugural luncheon with Congress since 1981.  We had Legal Sea Food Clam Chowder the next day for lunch.  No comparison---Old Ebbitt Grill is the best.   Add this to some of the best lump crab cakes we have tasted—and “Oh My!”

        As we were getting ready to leave I told Joyce I wanted to try something.  You might recall that I was banned from Uber last summer in New York City.  (See my blog, “Oops, I’ve been Banned from Uber!)

        So, I pulled up my Uber App and put in the Marriott Marquis as our destination.  Within seconds I was told an Uber was on the way.   Our driver’s name was Ena and by the time we stepped out the door she was pulling up.   We knew what to do this time.  I checked the license plate and Joyce said, “Are you Ena?”

        We had a nice visit with Ena back to the Marriott where we watched Jeopardy and saw the newest celebrity, James Holzhauer win for the 18^th time, although he had a close call—he almost lost!

        After a good night’s rest and a delicious breakfast, we walked a few blocks to the Metro Station where we took the Yellow Train to L’Enfant Plaza.  After briefly getting turned around (we exited at L’Enfant South—should have exited L’Enfant North) we found the Museum of the Bible.  I especially wanted to visit this new museum that opened to rave reviews and naturally, some controversy.  My first impression was very positive, a first-class facility, an impressive litany of rare artifacts, and a very professional, innovative, and appealing presentation of the material.  You need a good 4 to 6 hours to really see this museum, and we did not have that much time so we hit the highlights. 

        We started with the history of the Bible that had a great section on the Dead Sea Scrolls.  The section on the transmission of the text and different translations, beginning with Jerome, was very well done.  There was a great presentation on the Gutenberg Bible as well as the many different English translations.  We spent some time in a recreated first-century village that reminded us of the Nazareth Village in the Holy Land.  It is my understanding that the same people who created Nazareth Village created this area for the Museum of the Bible. 

        The highlight of the visit was a 30-minute presentation on the Hebrew Bible.  This was a walk-through experience with many special effects.  It was very effective telling the story of man, beginning with creation, featuring Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Ruth, David, and Ezra. 

        I found the approach of the Bible Museum to be very balanced and scholarly.  There were many children and young people there which is encouraging.  I would certainly add this to your “must see” list when you visit DC. 

        We took a taxi to Union Station and waited for our train, Amtrak # 29, the Capitol Limited.  This was the first time I had been on a double-decker train.  We had a bedroom again, but the bedrooms on the “SuperLiners” as they are called, are a little larger than the “Viewliners” on the Crescent.  The exception is you don’t have as much headroom, which is not a problem until you climb into the top bunk.   We did find the ladder this time.  It did make climbing up to the top a little easier, although turning around once you got up there is somewhat of a challenge.   It’s not as bad as the “coffin bunk” I slept in on the USS Eisenhower, but it’s not as roomy as the Crescent.   I had no complaints and slept very well.  

        Our route took us into the Alleghany Mountains through West Virginia and Cumberland, Maryland.  Riding the train as we ascended into the mountains was a great experience.  The scenery was breathtaking as the sun descended and we crossed numerous streams and rivers.  We followed a swift stream as we snaked into the mountains, far out of cellular range.  It reminded me a lot of the North Carolina mountains. 

        After we went to bed we stopped in Pittsburg and Cleveland.  When we woke up we were passing the large farms of northern Indiana.  There had been a tremendous rain the day before and many fields were flooded.  We pulled into fog bound Chicago, arriving at Union Station ten minutes early.

        We got off the train and made our way to the Metropolitan Lounge which is reserved for first-class passengers.  It is much more spacious and attractive than the first-class lounge in Washington, DC.  They even offered cheeses and assorted vegetables around noon. 

        I had never been to Union Station in Chicago, so I spent a few minutes admiring the massive historic old terminal.  I was looking around when I was stopped by a Chicago television news crew.  They asked if I was an Amtrak passenger and would I mind answering a few questions.  I was happy to oblige.  Then they told me that earlier that morning several huge chunks of concrete had fallen on one of the train platforms.  They wanted to know if I had any concerns about riding Amtrak. 

        I told them I had no concerns whatsoever.   We love the train and will ride it every chance we get.  Then we discussed how our train system compares to the European trains—very poorly, I will add.  

        I don’t know how it came out on the broadcast but it was an interesting conversation with the local news. 

        We boarded our next train, the historic California Zephyr and precisely at 2 pm we pulled out of the station, right on time, just like the Europeans!  But—that would be the last time we were on time.

        Not far out of Chicago the train stopped.  The conductor made an announcement, something about detectives stopping the train.   Or, at least that is what I thought I heard.  I could imagine a bunch of detectives flashing their credentials, surrounded by uniformed officers, standing in the tracks, stopping the storied California Zephyr just south of Chicago.  I thought I would soon see officers searching every bedroom, checking the credentials of each passenger because they had it on good authority that one of the FBI’s most wanted was trying to slip out of Chicago on the Zephyr.  What would we do if the fugitive ran into our room, closed the door, aimed a gun at us and said, “If they come into this room, you ain’t seen nobody.  Understand!”

        I asked our attendant if he had ever had detectives stop a train before.   “Detectives? It wasn’t detectives,” he said.  “It was a detector.  A detector was giving a false signal.  They just had to check it out.”

        Feeling rather embarrassed, I returned to our room and our train continued its journey.  Seeing the US by rail is a unique and exciting experience. Unfortunately, long-distance Amtrak trains are frequently late, so don’t take the train if you are on a tight schedule.  We were almost four hours late arriving in Salt Lake City, but it didn’t matter.  We had just had an experience that will last a lifetime.

We traveled from east to west and along the way we saw the heart of our great nation.  We saw people’s homes, lush pastures, beautiful mountains, factories, swing sets, swimming pools, farmhouses, barns, perfectly manicured lawns and yards full of old cars and junk, pastures, cows, horses, old depots, RVs, small town diners, school buses, cemeteries, big city skyscrapers, windmills, wide open prairies, mountains, lakes, ponds, streams, silos, freshly plowed fields, cars and trucks, tractors, irrigation systems, children waving, people fishing, and impatient drivers stopped at the crossing.  Riding the train across our nation is seeing a tapestry of our native land, almost literally “from sea to shining sea.”   We were riding through “amber waves of grain and purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain!”

        The California Zephyr has a full-service dining car and we enjoyed a delicious meal with a delightful woman from Michigan who was traveling out west to see her daughter. During dinner we crossed the Mississippi River that was very high due to heavy rains.  One of the reasons we were running late was because we had to go very slow due to the flooding.  They were concerned the rains had compromised the track.   We finally traveled through Illinois, now we were in Iowa on our westward journey.

      We both slept very well as our train stopped in Omaha, Nebraska.  When we woke up we were in the prairies of western Nebraska and then we crossed into Colorado.  We were running about 2 and ½ hours late. 

The train has a culture all of its own.  It is like a family.  All of the staff, from the sleeping car attendants, to the dining room staff, and the conductors are nice, friendly, helpful, and they make you feel right at home.  The train is non-smoking—thank goodness for that—but apparently one passenger smoked in the bathroom and when it was reported an announcement was made, “If you get caught smoking, the next stop will be your final stop!”   Another passenger had too much to drink and became unruly in the dinning car.  The next stop was his last stop!  We heard the next day that two passengers were taken off the train because they became unruly. 

        Thursday morning, we had a medical emergency on the train.  A passenger had a seizure.  An ambulance was waiting at the next station to provide the medical help he needed.

        We finally arrived in Denver and for the first time we caught of glimpse of the snow-capped Rockies in the distance.  It wouldn’t take long for us to find out why they call the Zephyr the most scenic train route in the United States.

          We started our ascent not long out of Denver.  As we gained elevation there were breathtaking views of Denver in the distance.  The train was going very slow in its ascent, but before long we were in the snow.  It was strange as we made our way through forests in the month of May that Evergreen trees were still covered with the winter’s snow.  We ascended to an altitude of 9,239 feet above sea level.  Then we entered the 6.2-mile historic Moffat Tunnel that was open to rail travel in 1928.  The California Zephyr is the only passenger train that travels through the tunnel today.  When we emerged from the tunnel on the western side, we had crossed the Continental Divide. 

        The train then winds its way through a gorgeous canyon following the Colorado River.  The railroad is the only way to see this canyon unless you are brave enough to go white water rafting down the river. 

        After snaking our way through the red cliffs and the narrow gorge, we finally emerged to see more spectacular mountains in the distance.  We came across a camp where a number of people were preparing to go on the river by boat.  For some reason it has become a tradition that the boaters “moon” the train.  Two or three were happy to oblige.

        We stopped on a siding for a while and waited for the Eastbound Zephyr to pass us.  We saw it coming out of a tunnel in the distance.  A long-time chef on Amtrak was making his last run, and the crew of the Westbound Zephyr waved in appreciation as the train slowly passed. 

        We continued our journey until we had another unexpected delay due to the second medical emergency of the day.  It seems a young lady who was pregnant overdosed on drugs and alcohol.  We knew something was wrong when an announcement was made asking for any doctors or nurses to come and help.  They were able to get her to regain consciousness, but she needed serious medical attention.  We were a long way from the next stop, so we stopped at small siding and the conductor walked over to a small building and knocked on the door.  We waited for about 45 minutes before an ambulance finally arrived and took her away. 

        Then another baffling problem occurred.  One of the coach cars experienced an electrical fire and the entire train was without power.   After about 15 minutes it was restored, but they had to move all of the passengers from that car into other cars.   Finally, we were on the way.

        We enjoyed dinner again on the train and went to bed.  It would be a short night.

        When we finally arrived at Salt Lake City at 2:25 a.m. Friday morning, we had traveled on three trains through fifteen states for a total of 3,186 miles.  We claimed our luggage and looked for a taxi.  There was only one taxi and at least ten people waiting for a cab.  I tried Uber again and five minutes later Don pulled up in a Honda Accord.  It was only ten minutes to our hotel.  I had called and told them we would be very late.  The nice young lady looked at my ID, handed me the room keys and 30 minutes after stepping off the train we walked into our hotel room.  We had slept about 4 hours on the train and were able to sleep another 4 hours before awaking to a gorgeous, sunny day.

        I took the hotel shuttle to the airport and got our rental car.  Soon we were traveling up Interstate 15 where the speed limit is 80 mph.  We saw some amazing scenery again as we drove through Idaho on our way to Jackson, Wyoming.  I was confused whether this town was Jackson or Jackson Hole?  

        Our waitress at The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar, a must-see in Jackson, gave me the answer.  She said she was also confused when she moved to town and thought she was living in Jackson Hole, even putting that as her official address.  The Post Office finally told her that the town is officially Jackson, not Jackson Hole.  Jackson Hole is an area that encompasses 3 or 4 small towns.  But whatever you call it, it is definitely a popular tourist destination with snow skiing in the winter and white water rafting and National Park touring in the summer.  We are here in their off-season, the crowds are small—thank goodness—but the prices remain the same—very high!    A bottle of water in our room costs $6.  We found a local grocery store.

        We had traveled over 4,000 miles through seventeen states in seven days.  Now we were ready for the highlights of this amazing journey—Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone National Park!  We would start touring first thing Saturday morning.

The Birthday at the Farmhouse

            Life at the farmhouse has a comforting cadence, a pleasant predictability, and a soothing similarity each day.   Early in the morning the woodcutter arises and splits wood before filling his wheelbarrow and making his rounds to the different fireplaces and wood stoves.  He is a simple and humble man who moves slowly but faithfully.  Over in the guesthouse there is a very comfortable family room with a wood fireplace.  He keeps the fire going whether there is anyone to enjoy it or not.  The rooms are heated by steam, powered by a wood stove that he replenishes throughout the day.  Bruno also cooks his Etruscan bread in a wood stove.  We speak to the woodcutter each morning saying, “Buongiorno!”

        He smiles, says “Buongiorno” and goes about his methodical task. 

        Maritza arrives early to prepare breakfast each morning.  There is typical Italian meat, cheese, bruschetta, breads, homemade organic jams, fruit, cereal, yogurt, juices and coffee.  In addition, Maritza always scrambles a few eggs and bakes a cake.  The freshly baked cake, we had lemon, apple, and chocolate, was always warm, right out of the oven. 

        Sisi also comes in early and assists Maritza in preparing breakfast and welcoming the guests.  She will check with everyone to see if they are having dinner and perhaps lunch.  As soon as breakfast is over, Sisi begins to clean the guest rooms.

        The men who work on the farm are in and out of the kitchen as they prepare for their day.  Maria comes in by 8:30 each morning and we hear the warm shouts of Buongiorno! as Maritza and Sisi welcome her.  Stefano and Donatella will often drop in as well.  It is evident that these are not just co-workers, this is a special, close knit family.  Bruno will come in the afternoon to prepare for the evening meal.  Julia is also there, usually helping in the evening, sometimes with Michael and Luka assisting. 

        When we arrive at breakfast we are always welcomed by Maritza and Sisi.  They are so happy to see us and when we compliment them on the delicious food they are humbled and grateful.

        We found life at the farmhouse to be the beautiful balm that we needed to restore and renew our spirits.  It is peaceful and quiet, soothing and serene.  And the kindness and love that Stefano, Donatella, and the staff showed to us was the seal of authenticity that we were indeed members of the Torraccia family. 

        Joyce developed a bad cough, probably due to allergies, a couple of days before her birthday and it was evident she did not feel well.  The entire staff was concerned.  Maria called Donatella who was in Florence.  Maria also gave Joyce an all-natural antibiotic made of the nectar of bees.  Because a large group of school children came to Torraccia di Chiusi on Monday to have dinner and view the stars, Maria had already decided to serve our dinner in our room.   It was a good thing, because Joyce did not feel well at all and when Julia, Michael, and Luka served our meal, they also were very concerned.

        Joyce slept much better Monday night and felt well as she awoke on April 9, her birthday.  It would be a big day.  The biggest challenge I was facing was that I was driving to Siena to return the dadgum rental car.  Maria, she is an angel, had called and talked to them.   They told her it was fine for me to return the car there and there would be no additional charges.  Maria also had the address and made sure my Google maps had the correct address so the Google lady could tell me how to get there.  

        I told Joyce I was going to eat breakfast and leave as soon as possible.   Since she was feeling better, she said she also was coming to breakfast a little later.

        The first thing Maritza asked me, with her broken English, was how was Joyce.  I indicated that she was better and would be coming to breakfast.  Joyce and I were the only guests that morning.   As soon as Maritza heard Joyce was coming to breakfast she rushed outside and a few minutes later she returned with a beautiful red flower, sort of like a hydrangea, and she placed it at Joyce’s seat along with a homemade card. 

        When Joyce walked in the door, Maritza and Sisi sang Happy Birthday in English!  They hugged Joyce and wished her the most heartfelt Happy Birthday—which made me feel really bad, because in my rush to get ready to take the car back, I had not said a word about Joyce’s birthday!

        The homemade card, Maritza called a valentine.  When Joyce expressed her deep appreciation for what they had done, Sisi said, “You deserve it because you are so kind.”

        I took Joyce’s picture with both Maritza and Sisi.   Maria came in and was thrilled that Joyce was better.  I have tried to pay Maria for the all-natural antibiotic, but she says no, it is a gift.

        I hugged Joyce goodbye and told her not to worry, but the truth was I was very apprehensive about the adventure I was about to take after what had happened in Florence.  I told Joyce I would call her when I finally got rid of the car.  Maria wished me luck and said not to worry, if the Google lady failed just follow the signs to the train station.

        I know the way to the main highway and soon was moving with the traffic on the way to Siena.   The fun started when I exited at Siena Nord.  The Google lady will tell you that a roundabout was coming and which exit to take, but in Italy all roundabouts are not the same and a small drive might be counted as an exit, or was it?  So when the Google lady would say, “At the roundabout, take the third exit.”  It wasn’t as simple as one might think.  I only messed up three times.  Twice, I went to the next roundabout and came back to rectify my mistake.  Funny thing about that Google lady, if you miss your turn she doesn’t tell you that you messed up, she just stops talking!

        I passed the train station but it was still quite a way to the rental car place.  Then I got off at the wrong exit and the Google lady hushed.  I was on a one-way street, going up a steep hill, stopped because a big truck had the entire street blocked as it tried to back into a tight space.  Stopping on a steep hill with a stick-shift is always a challenge.   The truck finally got out of the way, but now I was behind a city bus that stopped every other block.  I was creeping along, still a long way from the rental car place.  

        I finally made it back to a two-way street, and listened intently to the Google lady who was speaking to me again, on which exit to take at each roundabout.  I kept getting closer to my destination!  The Google lady said to turn right at Eurocar street.   That made sense because the rental company was Europcar.  I turned and followed a winding street and then saw a sign that read, “Eurocar.”  

        It looked like a big garage, but I parked and went inside the shop.  Everyone was busy working on cars.  I thought it was a rather strange place to have a car rental agency, but nevertheless, I walked into an office where a friendly Italian man was talking to a lady.  When I showed him my paper he said, “No.  No.  We only fix cars.”

        Then we walked outside and he pointed up a hill.  “There!”   I thanked him and got back in the dadgum car one last time.   A few minutes later I saw a sign that read “Europcar.” 

        I parked and walked into the office.  I handed the lady my paperwork and said I had come to turn in my car.”

        “Everything okay?” she asked.

        I wanted to say, “It is now!”

        She brought my account up on her phone and kept looking at it.   I was thinking, Oh no!  I expected to her to jump up and say, “You are the one!  The crazy American who burns up our car!”

        But she walked outside, checked the car, came back inside and said, “Everything is in order.  Do you need a taxi?”

        I was one happy man to get into that taxi and say goodbye to that dadgum car.  We passed a Burger King and I said to my driver that we never eat there.  “Me either,” he said.  “Italian food too good!”

        He dropped me at the train station and I bought a ticket to Poggibonsi for 3 and ½ Euros.  I called Joyce to tell her the good news.  The car has been returned, all is in order, I’m at the train station and about to board a train bound for Poggibonsi.  Forty-five minutes later I stepped off the train and walked over to the Post Office.  Gianni met me there and drove me back to Torraccia di Chiusi.  Now we could celebrate Joyce’s birthday!

        Maria had already been to see Joyce and brought her a gorgeous purple Iris from her garden along with a letter describing the purple Iris as a symbol of Tuscany, hope of spring.  Then she added, “Happy Birthday, Dear Joyce.  All the best for you. . . . a little scent from my garden.  Maria”

        There was also a gift from Donatella with this note:  “Dearest Joyce, this is a little thought for you, but with many good wishes for a sweet and very special woman with heart.  Donatella and Stefano.”  Donatella creates women’s organic cosmetics and creams and has started a company named Vicustuscus, based on the secrets of the cosmetic art of the ancient Etruscan people, today rediscovered in San Gimignano. “Beauty creams that tell real stories of a magical, distant past.” She gave Joyce a tube of her hand cream.  In addition to being an archeologist, Donatella is also a chemist.

        It was soon time for lunch.   Maritza and Maria were excited that they could prepare a birthday lunch for Joyce.  Maria keeps talking about how simple it is, but it was a lovely meal.  We started with a salad with fresh greens and the most delicious cauliflower cooked in olive oil and sautéed onion.   There was a simple dish of spaghetti, homemade pasta with tomato sauce.  It was actually some of the best pasta we have tasted in Italy.  Then we enjoyed a sautéed chicken with mushrooms and olive oil.  It was so tender it would melt in your mouth.  This was served with potatoes. 

        When the meal was over we were getting ready to go back to the room when Maria appeared with two bowls of fresh strawberries topped with homemade whipped cream.  They were served in lovely china bowls with flowers.  Maria said Maritza insisted on the fine china!

        At 8 p.m. we made our way to the dining room where Bruno had been working all afternoon.  Luka was the waiter tonight and Bruno was serving from the kitchen.  We were the only guests. 

        The first course was an excellent bruschetta with tomato.   We had bruschetta every morning, but Joyce had commented one day to Maria how she enjoys bruschetta with tomato.  Then came a delicious bean soup followed by pasta with vegetables.  Then came the main course:  Rabbit!   Rabbit is a delicacy in Tuscany and Bruno was going all out for Joyce’s birthday.  The rabbit was amazing---but there was more! 

        Bruno came out with two small strawberry cakes, made with fresh strawberries.  We found out later that he had worked on the cakes all afternoon.  He lit a birthday candle, placed it on the cake and presented the cake to Joyce!   But there was even more!

        Stefano produces an extravagant champagne.  The couple from Denmark had a bottle the last night and told us how good it was.   The champagne is stored in the old Etruscan cellar.  Bruno brought out a bottle of champagne and presented it to Joyce.  “A gift from Stefano!” he exclaimed as he popped the cork. 

        What a night!  

        But suddenly Joyce and I looked at each other.  Bruno and Luka had returned to the kitchen.  Here we were, stuffed like birds, with delicious strawberry cake and a whole bottle of champagne. 

        “What are we going to do with this champagne?” Joyce asked.

        I took the champagne bottle and went into the kitchen.  There was Bruno, lighting up his usual post-dinner cigar, Luka the server, and the woodcutter. 

        I said, “Please come and join us for a toast.  We want to share the champagne with you.”

        And they did.

        Everyone got champagne glasses and stood around the table.  We raised our glasses high and saluted Joyce on this special birthday.  And as we did, I thought how appropriate, on this night of nights, this special day in this sacred place, that we would all enjoy a glass of extravagant champagne together—the two of us, the cook, the waiter, and the woodcutter!

        The woodcutter smiled and seemed to relish in the moment.  In the morning he would be back at his task, chopping wood, filling his wheelbarrow, and keeping the fireplaces and wood stoves burning.  But tonight, we celebrated together as one family, all equal in the eyes of God.  As Maria said, “You are part of the Torraccia family.”

        Joyce and I returned to our room, but before we got ready for bed we walked out on the terrace.  We looked across the beautiful Tuscan valley and saw the lights of San Gimignano shining in the distance.  We looked above at a cloudless sky and saw the stars and a crescent moon, all of God’s creation in its majestic beauty.  

        We have felt that we were living in a painting, that it couldn’t be real.  But tonight was even more, it was truly magical.  And the magic came not from the breathtaking scenery, the mouthwatering food, the extravagant champagne—the magic was found in the love of friends who have accepted us as members of their family and blessed us with their kindness and compassion.  The magic came as we knew without a doubt we were a part of this loving family where even the woodcutter can raise a glass and celebrate our joy because we are all one in the family of God.

       

         

       

La Torraccia di Chiusi

        I was blessed to receive the coveted Lily Endowment Sabbatical Grant in 2010, but it wasn’t easy.  It was a two-year process that involved detailed planning with a Sabbatical Committee from the church, a painful rejection, a major revision of my plans, and finally the great news that I had been approved for a $45,000 grant! 

        I had heard that many first-year proposals were denied, but I really thought I had a great proposal that was detailed, creative, and exactly along the lines the endowment was seeking.  So, when I was given the opportunity to call the program director and get feedback on why my proposal was rejected, I was shocked when the first thing she said was, “Your proposal is one of the best we have seen.”

        Joyce had tried to tell me (she tries to tell me a lot of things-if only I would listen) that I would kill myself trying to do everything I had planned.  We were going to conferences, meetings, conventions, seminars, and various convocations. 

        “But this is what you have to do to earn this kind of money,” I told her.

        The Lily Endowment Director said, “I know you must be wondering why we think you have such a great proposal but denied your grant.  The answer is simple.  If you do everything you have planned to do, you will kill yourself!  It is way too much!”

        Then she went on to explain that during a Sabbatical one should get a lot of rest and relaxation.  “You need to travel,” she told me.  “Travel to Europe.  See the world!”

        With her amazing words ringing in my ears, we planned a five-week trip to Italy that included much rest and relaxation.  When we first traveled to Italy, we fell in love with Tuscany.  I wanted to find a place where we could go to rest and relax.  A Tuscan farmhouse sounded exactly like what we wanted, but how do you go about finding the perfect one. 

         I spent many hours researching our options and reading travelers’ reviews.  I kept coming back to a farmhouse outside of San Gimignano named La Torraccia di Chiusi.  All of the reviews were consistent in their glowing praise.  In fact, there was not one single negative review, not a negative word.  We went to this wonderful farmhouse wondering if it could possibly live up to our lofty expectations—we did not need to worry, it exceeded them. 

        We returned in 2017 with several other couples from Lexington.  Everyone left feeling exactly as we do about the farmhouse.  When it came time to plan this  Sabbatical, I knew we were going back to our beloved farmhouse in the Tuscan hills overlooking the famed wall city of San Gimignano.  

        Another beautiful day dawned on Monday, April 1, over the lovely hills outside of Greve in Chianti.  The Villa Bordoni has been a perfect place to relax and unwind following our harrowing experience trying to drive out of Florence.   We haven’t moved the car since we got here.  But now it was necessary to get back behind the wheel and hope for the best. 

        The Google Map lady said it was about a 48-minute drive from the Villa Bordoni to La Torraccia di Chiusi.  We planned on it taking at least an hour and a half.  The good news is that the car gave us no problems, although Joyce keeps saying there is a funny smell.  The bad news is that we lost connection with the Google Lady and we were “flying blind.”  

        Joyce was watching her phone closely.  One bar, two bars, then no service at all.  I was trying to follow the signs to Siena, but the only signs we saw were directing us back to Florence—not where we wanted to go!   We approached a little village and she said she was getting three bars of cellular service.  I pulled over and yes, we were able to reconnect with the Google Lady.  The first thing she told us was that we were driving in the wrong direction.  We turned around and started a beautiful drive through the Tuscan countryside, through vineyards and olive groves, past wineries and villas. 

        About an hour and a half after we left the Villa Bordoni we arrived at La Torraccia di Chiusi!   I pulled the car down to the small parking area next to the pond where the geese hang out.  We got out of the car and looked around—we felt like we were home!   Then we heard a joyous “Buongiorno Ray and Joyce!“   It was our dear friend Maria! 

        When we first came to La Torraccia di Chiusi in 2010 we did not meet Maria, but her husband Bruno.  Bruno is the gifted cook who produces the outstanding Tuscan meals.  We also met Stefano, his wife Donatella, and their daughter. 

        The farmhouse is located on the famed Via Francigena, the ancient Pilgrims highway that led all the way from Canterbury, England to Rome.  The Archbishop of Canterbury made this journey in 990 AD and describes the house in some detail, the house before reaching San Gimignano, the house that is today La Torraccia di Chiusi.  A noble Italian family, the Conti De Vecchi Abbracciabeni, lived in this farmhouse for 750 years.

        But the history of this amazing farmhouse goes back even more, much more, for 2,600 years as Stefano likes to say.  Shortly after purchasing this property Stefano discovered an ancient wine cellar that dates back to Etruscan times!  The University of Leuven in Belgium sent an archeological team to explore the ruins.  The wine cellar still contained wooden barrels that Stefano used to construct the door of his modern wine cellar, which is located in the original Etruscan cellar.  But just recently there has been another amazing discovery.  A Roman villa dating back to the first century AD was discovered very close to the wine cellar called “Torraccia di Chiusi—Aiano.  The University is now working with the Municipality of San Gimignano to create one of the most important archaeological parks in Tuscany.

        Through the years many Roman coins and Etruscan artifacts have been discovered on the property.  It is no exaggeration when the promotion reads: “On ancient paths in an untouched landscape the organic farmhouse “Torraccia di Chiusi” an undiscovered gem.”  And Stefano and Donatella have a love and appreciation for the historical legacy they have inherited and are committed to preserving it for future generations.

        The Villa Bordoni was an elegant home with a formal garden and the food was what I would describe as Tuscan Gourmet.  But the farmhouse is different.  This is still a working farm and the setting is more rustic.  Bruno is not a formal chef, but a traditional Tuscan cook.  He bakes bread in an antique wood stove.  He has carefully researched ancient Etruscan and Medieval recipes.

        Each night we have enjoyed five-course meals beginning with an appetizer like bruschetta, a soup, a pasta, a main course (We have enjoyed pepper beef, roasted pork with a brown sugar glaze, and pork ribs) and a light dessert with the obligatory Grappa!  The food cooked in the farm kitchen also reflects the seasonal produce of the land.  

        We are staying at the spacious Eagle Owl Suite with a stunning view of San Gimignano across the valley.  Indeed, the scenery is so beautiful that we have commented we are living in a painting!  We truly feel that we are like family.  Stefano and Donatella were so happy to see us.   Bruno, who doesn’t speak English, as well.  Plus, the wonderful staff and of course, our dear Maria. 

        Maria had a delicious lunch waiting for us.   As we were enjoying lunch and catching up on family, she asked, “Is everything okay?”

        We told her that everything at La Torraccia di Chiusi was wonderful, but we had a problem.   We told her about the car.

        Maria was very sympathetic and understanding.  She told us that she does not even drive in Florence.   She asked to see a copy of my rental agreement. 

        Later that afternoon Maria had worked out a solution.  I can return the car to Siena without any additional charge.   That will be much easier than driving to Florence.  I plan to take the car back next Tuesday, then I will take a train back to Poggibonsi where Maria will have a driver waiting for me.   Next Wednesday we will have a driver take us to Florence so we will not have to drive in that exasperating city.  I knew Maria could work it out---and she did!

        We drove to San Gimignano on Tuesday.  We took our time strolling through the city known for its many towers.  We decided to visit the ancient Cathedral that was consecrated by Pope Eugenio III in 1142.  This cathedral is home to some of the greatest Italian frescoes in all of Tuscany, including some by the renown Renaissance master Ghirlandaio. 

        In Medieval times most people could not read, so the frescoes served as an educational tool to teach the stories of the Bible.  Almost all of the interior walls are covered with frescoes by Italian masters.  The left wall contains scenes from the Old Testament and the right wall from the New Testament.  By far the largest and most elaborate fresco is the Crucifixion.  We were not allowed to take photos, but we had audio guides that gave detailed information on each individual fresco.   We spent a lot of time reflecting on the majesty of these ancient works of art.  As Holy Week is approaching, standing in front of the magnificent fresco of the Crucifixion was a very moving experience.

        There were many groups of school children in the piazza.  It was obvious that it was a special day with performances and entertainment.  We found out later that the focus of the celebration was Autism awareness. 

        We found a little restaurant named Beppone off the beaten path with a kind and warm owner who welcomed us.  We had salad and Margherita Pizza that was advertised as authentic Naples pizza.  We found out that the owner was from Naples and he has a brother who operates a B&B there.   The pizza was excellent.

        On the way back to the farmhouse we stopped at the Bottega Torciano, which is owned by our friend, Pierluigi Giachi.  I will refer you to a blog I posted on November 2, 2017 titled: “Holy Wisdom Under the Tuscan Sky.”   I will never forget standing on the very top of Pierluigi’s tower in San Gimignano and recalling another trip we had made to Italy when we first met him.  I mentioned several of our friends who were on that trip, but are no longer with us:  Bill Delapp, Bob and Marge Team.   

        With tears in his eyes he placed his hand on my shoulder, looked at me and said, “Ray, we all live under the sky.  Every day is a gift.  We must “Carpe Diem” Seize the Day!”

        Joyce and I walked into the Bottega Torciano and guess who was there!   He saw Joyce first and jumped to his feet!  “My lady!”  Pierluigi was always the ladies’ man.   He seemed so happy to see us.  He remembered the group we had in October of 2017.   The next thing we knew he was bringing us food and pouring wine from his best bottles (80 Euros and more!). And he said, “These are my friends!   This is all on the house!”  And we had already had a generous lunch!

        We are planning to have lunch at his winery on Sunday.

        When we were planning for our group to come to the farmhouse in October of 2017, I asked Maria for a recommendation for a guide.  Without hesitation she suggested that I contact Marialuisa with “My Tuscan Wine and Tours.”   Marialuisa is a very well educated and gifted guide.  Her English is excellent.  Her family owns the Cesani winery that produces some delicious wines. 

        She did an outstanding job for us in 2017, so I contacted her again.  She was happy to hear from us and for two days Joyce and I have our private guide taking us on tours of Tuscany!   Being with Marialuisa is like being with family.  

        Our first stop was the ancient walled city of Volterra that sits high on a hill and is visible for miles in every direction.  Volterra also goes back to Etruscan times and there is an Etruscan Museum in the city.  It is known for its alabaster and there are dozens of shops specializing in beautiful alabaster products.  It has a gorgeous cathedral, also with beautiful frescoes, but it has been closed for renovation of over a year.  We did see the octagonal Baptistery and I was able to share with Marialuisa the significance of the eight sides (Eight people saved in the flood—Eight is the first day of new creation). 

        It was a cloudy, cool day—a few raindrops but we never opened our umbrellas—actually a perfect day for walking around the old city.   There are some breathtaking views from Volterra and on a clear, cloudless day you can see all the way to the Mediterranean. 

        After visiting Volterra, Marialuisa had a special treat in store for us---a sheep farm.   Located in the beautiful rolling hills of Tuscany, under the view of Volterra in the distance, you will find an expansive farm with 800 sheep—the Fattario Lischeto.   We were greeted by the gregarious owner, Giovanni, who along with his sister, Rosita, were happy to welcome us as family.  

        The farm has several apartments and they welcome artists and students from different countries.  We sat down in front of an inviting wood fire and enjoyed an absolutely delicious meal with various cheeses, but most especially the extraordinary Pecorino delle Balze Volterrane!   With salads, breads, and a delicious homemade organic pasta with wild boar, we enjoyed a delightful lunch with Marialuisa and Giovanni. 

        Marialuisa said that eating with them is like eating with family, and we found this to be true.  Giovanni came to the table with a slab of salted pork.  He said they had never done this before but had salted part of the back and now it was time to try it.  He cut the pork for the first time and shared it with us!   It reminded me of country ham, very tasty.  

        Giovanni has been a true entrepreneur when it comes to his cheeses.  He has organized a consortium of farmers and they are lobbying the government to establish strict regulations and standards for the production of cheese, much as they do their wine.   He also told us of a New York City food critic who named his Pecorino cheese the best in the world!   He was not bashful in sharing this with us!  That and the fact he just returned from Canada where he received even more international awards.   He was wearing a medal on his coat to prove it!

        He has a hearty laugh and a great personality to go with it.  When I was taking his picture with Marialuisa, he said “CHEESE!”

        Somehow in this conversation it was revealed that I am a storyteller and Joyce implied that I sometimes “exaggerate.”    Giovanni looked at me and said, “We are very similar!”

        After a long, leisurely lunch Marialuisa drove us back towards San Gimignano to her family winery, Cesani.  One day when we were touring back in 2017, I asked Marialuisa about the Second World War and she told me a powerful story.  Her great-grandfather left to go fight in the First World War and never returned.  Her great-grandmother raised her son praying that he would never see war, but as Marialuisa said, “He did not have a choice.  It was either go fight or be killed.”

        The family owned no land, had very little material resources.   They would have been the equivalent of sharecroppers in our society.  Her grandfather was captured by the Allies and became a POW.   The family did not know if he was dead or alive.  But he was very much alive.   An American Colonel made him his personal chef and driver.  When the war was over, the Colonel said to him, “I know you are a prisoner, but you have been of great service to me.  I am indebted to you for all you have done.” 

        The Colonel gave Mr. Cesani a generous sum of money.   With the money, he returned home and purchased the land that is today the Cesani winery.   It is truly a family operation with Marialuisa, her sister, and her mother and father who operate the business.  There are 9,000 olive trees and many acres of vineyards.

        Just before we reached the Cesani winery we drove past the family church.  Marialuisa told us that the church was completely destroyed in the Second World War.  The only thing that survived was a beautiful fresco of Mary.   The church has been rebuilt exactly as it was before the war.  The fresco of Mary is the centerpiece, of course.  And I wonder after hearing the story of the grandfather and the fresco of Mary surviving the war, if that might have had something to do with her being named, Marialuisa.  Family and tradition are the two values that have guided this family business.  Their mission is to enhance humanity and nature. 

        On the way to her winery, Marialuisa pointed out a tall hill in the distance.  One day towards the end of the Second World War, German soldiers rounded up all the men left in San Gimignano, young and old.  They marched them to the top of that hill and killed them---over 100 innocent men.  These were not soldiers.  They were grandfathers, fathers, brothers, husbands, and sons. 

        Tuscany is one of the most beautiful places on the face of the earth.  But as in the book of Genesis, the heart of man is continually evil.  Evil and hatred can destroy even the most beautiful scenes of God’s creation.  But thanks be to God there is the cross where all of the pain, the injustice, the inhumanity of evil man comes into focus as Jesus bears our pain and pays for our sins, and the beauty returns to God’s creation.

        Thursday has been windy and rainy, a perfect day to stay in the farmhouse and read and write.   Tomorrow, we have another day-long adventure with our friend, Marialuisa.