Under the Ascoli and Offida Sun!

Hey all, sorry but the previous day's blog did not post on time, so if you really want to be "on top" of it all, you need to read, "I've Arrived" before reading this one!

Today (Wednesday), in it’s entirety, was a lovely day. It started with an early rise and out the door by 9am (my lesson starts at 11:00am) as I was anxious to get to the market. Every Wednesday there is a farmer’s market and a retail market. Today, I had my sights set on a very blue leather purse that I had seen last week but hesitated to purchase. There was a little voice on my shoulder SHOUTING, “why do you need another purse!!!”....fortunately, during the week, that voice was replaced with a more tender voice suggesting, “you’re in Italy, buy the blue purse as you’ll regret it; I just know you will…you would never buy a blue purse at home!here's your chance”. So, today, in honor of the tender voice, my mission was to find the “purse stall” (among many, many stalls) with the hope that the blue purse was still findable amongst the thousands displayed. I knew I was in trouble when the saleswoman (who, by the way, was really beautiful) immediately recognized me from last week (see, it’s not hard to remember the only single, female, flat-wearing shoed American in this town). She reminded me of the “good price” and then gave me space to roam. I spotted the blue purse and immediately my passion was re-ignited. I had to own it. It was marked as 29 euros and I bought it for 20 euros. I’ll be curious at how often I have the balls to wear this purse as it is really, really, really, really blue!


Now that my mission was successful, I still had a good hour before my lesson and so I bounced off to a new café for a coffee. I chose one in the main piaza and settled in quite well, scanning the local newspaper as if I was actually reading and absorbing the news. Sometimes I could get the gist of the article but mostly not.


A little backtracking here – My buddy, Gina (HI!) sends me my horoscope each week and this week was a fun one. It was about pen names and how I should come up with my own alias. I liked this idea and so upon departing the market with my really, really, really, really blue bag in tote, I found that my walk had a new bounce to it and so I decided that today’s alias was Bouncy Ragazza!

Another sunny and warm day in Ascoli and MariLena and I had planned to go to the little hillside town of Offida after our lesson. I was excited about this excursion. As I’ve said many times (and will repeat myself so forgive me), MariLena is a delight and we are buddies. I have to say, she’s my favorite person in Ascoli right now.

We had our 2 hour lesson and then made our way to the bus station walking arm and arm like we had grown up together. I've decided Dulce is her alias. With tickets in hand and a crowd of teenagers waiting as well, we board a comfortable, air conditioned bus and relax while someone does the driving. MariLena has a car but she decided to not drive so she could also relax and enjoy the scenery (and be kind to the environment). We knew all along that we would be arriving in this small town during the “rest period” and so our expectations were to merely walk, site see, enjoy, chat and have lunch for a few hours in a new place.

The tour books do not lie when they exclaim how beautiful the hillside towns are in this region. They are picture perfect just as they are in Tuscany without the tourists and tour buses.

Upon arriving, we first confirmed the time of the return bus and where we should wait (she’s just like me), now we were free to roam. This hillside town probably has a population of about 5,000 inhabitants; it is lovely and immaculate. I just love the architecture of the residences. They are always built of either the white local stone or brick, always colored shutters and this area (including Ascoli) are displaying tons and tons of flowers and humongous palm trees. It’s surprisingly tropical here.

We walk and walk and talk and talk both Italian and English. After a while, we find a café and sit down to lunch. A delicious sandwich of prosciutto crudo, soft cheese and greens is so very satisfying with a nice green salad.

We are about 15 minutes early for our return bus and find a park with a clear view of the bus stop so we can watch for it. From our vantage point, we actually see a bus parked and assumed it was ours. After just a few minutes, we decide to simply go and wait at the bus stop; we see a couple of policemen talking and as we are looking around for the bus driver, one of the policemen prompts MariLena and she is told by him that the bus to Ascoli had already come and gone. This was very distressing news as the next bus was not for another 4 hours and we would not get back to Ascoli until around 9pm…..MariLena seemed more distressed over the question of how could we have missed it, we were sitting and looking right at the bus stop the whole time. She kept repeating how we both have a set of eyes and we could not have missed seeing it! It was concluded that we were probably directed to the wrong bus stop. So, MariLena pulled out her cell phone and began to call everyone in her family: mother, father, brother, brother’s friend, boy friend and finally we get the good news that MariLena’s boyfriend’s father (who is retired) would come pick us up! As lovely as Offida is, there simply was not 4 more hours of anything to do there.

While waiting, a gentleman approached us who heard my American accent and proceeded to join us in conversation. He was a British writer whose girlfriend (who was a painter) was from this area and they came here often to visit family. A bit of trivia he shared – the tailor for Frank Sinatra lived in this town! Too bad we didn’t run into him!

The “future father-in-law” arrives (only waited about 20 minutes entertained by the British writer) and we proceed to have a lovely drive back to Ascoli which was only about another 25 minutes.

It was a lovely time.

Tonight, my housemates and I were having dinner together. Diane is now here in Ascoli for her annual 2 month annual visit. She is a Professor at a small college in Maine and her personal passion is Medieval History. She is working on a 5,000 line translation of an old Italian document. She’s been coming here for 6-7 years. We hit it off and it's a joy to have a new personality in my little circle.

I prepare a salad and Daniela has purchased some home-made thin pasta and she fries up prosciutto and season with just some lemon rind, parsley and parmesano cheese, creates such a simple yet outstanding dish. Wonderful meal.

Once dinner is over, dishes washed, table clean, it’s about 9pm and we’re all happy to be home tonight. I offer up a movie…set up my laptop, pull the couch close as we all find our comfort and start to view, “Under the Tuscan Sun”….Diane had never seen it and Daniela was happy to practice her English.

It was a lovely way to end such a lovely day!

Still catching up....

Okay, so now I need to catch up to today which is Tuesday. I’m comfortably propped up in my bed after having had a very satisfying dinner made by Daniella. She cooked rice with fresh peas, chick peas and a chicken cutlet. It was incredibly satisfying. With a full belly and warm and snuggly in my bedroom (it’s 10:00pm – where does the time go?), I’m going to attempt to cover the last few days.

Saturday night I was hit quite hard with grief; man, it came up so unexpected and powerfully. Daniella, bless her, got the brunt of it and in my broken Italian and her broken English I was able to let go and she was able to catch me. Not to discount this experience, I gave it a perfect entrance having not had any sleep for about 20 hours, barely ate and was now in a new town, new culture and it was cloudy and rainy…hello?

Looking back just 48 hours, I can recall how strange it felt climbing the stairs of this old building, seeing only the renovation work and not quite ready to see it’s charm. Entering Daniella’s apartment which, I later found out, was her late grandmother’s who had passed away about 2 years before. She sweetly introduced me to all the rooms and, again, my tired mind was sinking to the thoughts of, “did I make a mistake?”…arriving in my bedroom with a big sigh about what I don’t know. In Italian the question is asked if I wanted to go outside and walk. YES, I had been sitting and sitting and sitting and so walking would be good.

The town was bustling as it was the weekend. When in Italy, I am always amazed at the young people and how they hang out in big groups and there energy is just so fun and wild and free. It’s refreshing. We walked and walked while speaking a little Italian and a little English….we were getting to know each other and I was getting to know this place.

Ascoli-Piceno is quite beautiful. Lonely Planet, etal did not lie. It’s also quite immaculate.

It was on this walk, down some side street that my body began to prepare me that I was about to start feeling something challenging. The grief decided to hit and there I was in the Piazza Puopolo with a strange woman named Daniella starting to sob. I could barely touch it with faces and memories of times past and times shared but I did. I knew I had to and so I went with it. Daniella showed instant compassion and encouraged the release (am I blessed or what?). I thought to myself, tonight I will share my room with grief and give it some space….and I did.

The walking was so helpful; my body needed to move. Returning to her home, I got a little more organized and allowed myself to slip into bed, with no judgement and simply gave into the sense of loneliness. I did feel quite alone Saturday night. The tears flowed and I was grateful for them….let them flow as long as necessary.

Upon waking Sunday morning, I began to feel myself. I slept until 10:00am and with a pot of expresso waiting for me, I joined Daniella in our "dining room" and began to plan our day. I'm acclimating quickly, I can feel it. It's one of my "fortunate?" qualities...like how I acclimated to 10 years off-the-grid in Taos.

Busy streets and alleyways, Ascoli is built with local travertine and so everything is white and glistening against the deep greens of a lush environment, it's something to behold. Mmmmm, shops with salami, ravioli and proscuito beckon me -- it's on my shopping list. I can't quite eat today as my body is a bit upside down and so somehow the time passes and we are planning a dinner out with Daniella's friend. It begins to rain and so to "take up some time" prior to our reservation at Mr. Okay's, they show off their local shopping mall. Again, packed with young, old and families, people eating, playing games and generally living well.

We get to Mr. Okay's, not exactly a restaurant name conjuring up truffles, but this is their specialty. Did I mention Daniella loves (I mean loves) to eat? She's probably just 5' and a little round but a lovely face and stunning hazel eyes...she is always looking "up" at me and so I'm curious how her neck must feel.

I give her permission to order at will and she does! First, we get the local specialty which are meat stuffed olives deep friend. I know, doesn't exactly sound that appetizing but have no fear, they are addictive. This is followed by fried zucchini like you've never tasted before. The zucchini is sliced in very thin strips that almost curl with the most delicate batter and they are piled high! I thought this would be it but no, we then receive about 4 stuffed mushrooms. Yet to come is the main course of pasta with truffles! I try to pace my eating and not get full so I can leave room for the real treat and treat it was. A small rigatoni pasta, cooked quite al dente in a light cream sauce and chopped truffles and some bread crumbs as well with fresh parseley. Man oh man, it was good. I could not finish my plate but knew I could count on Daniella!

This seems long enough. The knot seems to be gone for now in my belly, I am living quite comfortable now. Taking baths instead of showers, running up and down the stairs of my flat, carrying old fashioned keys, and having completed my 2nd day of Italian lessons. My schedule is 11-1pm 5 days (20 hours a week) which leaves my mornings for now free to try to catch up on sleep and sit at the local cafe for a expresso and croissant; honestly, I am still exhausted and not quite sleeping as much or as deeply as I need to. So far both days my brain has hurt from going places it hasn't had to go in a long time but this is what I wanted. I really like my teacher and, by the way, I am having private lessons.

I realize it's early in this process but I do think I will stay here in Ascoli for a total of 2 weeks. It's quite economical staying with Daniella. I've met some travelers who have been to Urbania and they say is is incredibly small -- I'm not going to bother. I actually find Ascoli quite small too (50,00). My thoughts are to go to Sicily for sure and I may touch base with Maria and Shastro (Alb - DC travel companions) as they are going to Bologna and I may rendezvous with them.

That's all for now, caio!

Work in Process....

This is my first blog. I agree that it is visually boring right now, apologies, I hope to get creative as soon as I first figure out what I'm doing!


This 1st blog is quite long as it covers about 3-4 days! Be patient. I doubt I will be so long-winded afterwards.

This name, Humble Beginnings, came to me in a dream a very long time ago; maybe 15-20 years. Please be clear, not for a moment do I believe this phrase is profound, or unique; but I have held it with me for a long time never knowing if it was to lead someplace. Always, my thought was that it was a cook book solely of peasant foods, and I use “peasant’ with the most respect and admiration. The cook book (and of course, cable-network cooking show --- hint, hint), were to focus on peasant foods from all over the world as from my perspective, these foods represent health, naturalmente, organic, whole and inexpensive meals (using foods that are available and fresh and not shipped from someplace you can’t pronounce); basically, the way I want to eat. Okay, so although this blog is not about the idea of a cook book/show, allow me to indulge further in this idea (just in case someone out there wants to fund me to actually move forward with this!). I’ll use my heritage as an example (which is Italian): Polenta (simply corn meal) has become a rather “chi chi” food in the states but I grew up with it in the most traditional way. My grandmother, who I missed knowing, passed down a rectangle wooden board to my mother. My mom used this board not only to kneed the dough and make home-made ravioli, pasta, etc. (yes, I grew up with a Mom who made these from scratch, as easily and spontaneously as I make a cup of tea!) but also to literally ‘pour’ the polenta on the board in a somewhat oval shape casting itself across the length and width of the board. Once all the polenta was poured onto this board (it was thick), then the meat from the tomato sauce (meatballs, brasiola, pork, sausage) was piled in the middle (on top of the polenta) so all those around the table could easily reach. The tomato sauce was also spread lightly onto the glistening surface of the polenta. We each took our seat and carved in front of us our very own “half moon” of polenta, cutting it into patchwork bite size pieces and pulling into our half moon our own pieces of meat. Of course, one could/would add more sauce, formaggio (cheese), etc. within your own half moon. So, you see, what today is a chi chi food has an artistic, humble yet beautiful beginning at the peasant level that one does not see in a 4 star restaurant. Okay, that’s the end of my Humble Beginnings as a cook book/show, now onto what I think this dream phase means to me today.

Although today is Sunday, May 16, 2010, I will go back only to Thursday evening, May 13 when Michael (soon to be ex-husband) dropped me off at the Grand Airport hotel in Albuquerque, NM. This drop off was also symbolic of our mutual decision to divorce after 12 years of marriage, 11 of which I was also a full-time stepmom. It was a bitter sweet experience as I both turned away from being a wife and mom to a single, 55 year old woman heading to Italy for one month. In our goodbye, my body both wanted to hold on to the comfort and love of Michael as well as let go and move into my new form of being; hold on, let go, hold on, let go…

The knot was there; I was experiencing grief. But there was no confusion, which I am grateful for. This feeling will return many times during the next few days as I prepare to write this blog and I am committed to lean into it as this love deserves to be grieved.

This is not a blog about the past but rather the present, which will become the future without any effort and so I feel compelled to record this sad yet magnificent reality of mine.

So, without further hesitation, let me bring this blog up to date with today.

Once I broke free of Michael (psychically and physically), I made my way up to my hotel room. This evening was uneventful and so I won’t spend too much time on it. I simply went down to the restaurant, had myself a big old Rib eye steak, prepared medium, a few skinny asparagus and dined quietly and comfortably. When I refused bread and butter, my waitress complimented me on my complexion and said she “could see that I was healthy as my skin was smooth and beautiful”. I sucked in this compliment like it was the last one I would hear forever…you see, although at this moment in time, I do feel healthy and attractive, that evening, I felt quite vulnerable – almost to the point of wanting to actually ask her how old she thought I was! Fortunately, I regained my composure, accepted the compliment and continued eating my steak. Once to my room, I reviewed my plans for the morning, watched my last episode of Private Practice and went to bed.

The wake up call came at 5:30am I prepared for the airport.

It’s now Friday, May 14 and my flight from Albuquerque to DC takes off at 8:00am. When I left my home in Santa Fe (which, by the way, I decided not to return to once this trip is complete, but rather leased myself a short-term furnished rental walking distance to the Plaza), I realized I had packed way too much. I’ve always prided myself on the fact that I could pack. I see now, that was a bunch of bull crap.

At check in, the crude awakening was that not only is my luggage too heavy but it’s also costly! $200.00 overweight baggage fee! because it’s an international fight! I was shocked! Obviously, I plan to do something for my return, as I am not spending another $200 on this piece of luggage! So, that was my first over budget expenditure!

My flight from Alb to DC was superb! As my companions were a couple (Maria and Shastro) and we three spoke the entire time! They live in Hawaii, they are tango instructors and she’s of Italian heritage, he’s from Venice, which was where they were flying too! I was invited to meet up with them. We all had so much in common…traded numbers and email. They plan to visit Santa Fe in November and I feel quite sure we will continue our friendship…. In fact, their description of Tango dancing has turned me on…they both really view it as a form of meditation. Meanwhile a good buddy of Michael’s (Greg) is also passionate about the dance and so I feel like I must try it. My new friends say there is a really good teacher in Santa Fe and so when I return, I plan to check her out. Her name is Liz Haight and here's a link.

Fortunato…Life is already opening up! We part at the DC airport, give each other hugs and I begin to find my gate for a 4 hour layover. DC airport is not exactly stimulating but I am fascinated in my people-watching mood. That morning I just had a breve latte and so now I’m a bit hungry….airport dining is challenging and so I opt for a turkey sandwich at Subway. I eat 1/2 of a 6” with gusto, save my other ½ for the flight.

Already I am emailing from my Blackberry, which I love, and it continues to be my gateway to friends and family back home. The idea that I would not engage my "life back home" was naive; I'm lonely and miss my friends.

I board the fight and find my seat and settle into my next 8 hours. I opted to spend a little extra for the more legroom seat; it’s worth it.

My travel companion, a woman in her 60s joins me and although originally quite content to sit quietly and get grounded, she and I begin to talk and, here we go again! another enjoyable experience. Later, though, I think I should try to sleep (impossible) or at least calm down before arriving in Rome at 8:30am the next morning (Saturday). I brought my bag of sleep enhancers and none of them work! I'm awake!

During our flight I engage some other travelers who are Italian and they confirm to me that I most definitely should take the metro from the airport to the Termina Statione (main bus station in Rome) where I am to catch the bus to Ascoli Piceno. They also confirm that my humungous luggage will be fine. No one, including myself, really comprehends what dragging a 70# piece of luggage is really like. Yes, 70#s (I purposely have been hesitating to mention that)…don’t bother asking me what was in the bag…basically, everything I thought I would need for 1 month in Italy!

De-board, immediately recruit a healthy, young male to help drag my piece of luggage off the conveyor belt, change some money (not the best place but I needed Euros and I was arriving in Italy on the weekend) and follow the icon for the metro.

At the ticket counter I ask about the bus station which is actually one stop past the Termina Statione and I would have to change trains to get close to the station….I had also read that it was a 5-10 minute walk. I buy the ticket and decide once I disembark at the Statione, I will figure out how to walk to the Bus station. I had plenty of time as I arrived at 8:30am and my bus did not depart until 1:50pm.

It was both the right and wrong decision. The train was packed; it was up 3 stairs (yes, totally needed help to lift the luggage), short train ride on surface tracks to the main station, which then exposed me to the fact that it was raining! I had no umbrella, no hat and so I just accepted that my 5-10 minute walk to the bus station was part of my experience and ‘lesson learned’.

Recruited help to disembark, had already consulted my map (which I got off the web before I left), got my bearings by finding a café in the terminal for some water and bundled up (had placed my cute, little, white rain jacket in the outside pocket of my suitcase (smart) and began to walk.

My map was precise and it was easy to find; however, at various times I was walking through large puddles, it would move from pouring to drizzle back to pouring and my arm that pulled the luggage would be numb after only a few minutes and I would have to switch. By the way, on my shoulder were my camera bag and laptop bag and my backpack as my purse. I was a walking coat rack! Very much resembling an obvious, American tourist!

I was so relieved to find the bus station (small office space), escape from the rain, warm my wet, cold feet and confirm that Daniella had made a seat reservation on the bus. I had about 2 hours to spare.

Leaving the gorilla of a bag (that will be it’s new nickname) at the station was practically an orgasmic experience!

Made my way around the corner to stumble upon a lovely block of residential buildings and there was my 1st Italian restaurant beckoning me, the weary traveler.

As I climbed down a flight of stairs (it was subterranean), I was welcomed by one of the waiters fumbling while changing his clothes! When he (and the other waiters) heard my foot steps, they all began to apologize for their stupido waiter as he quickly pulled his shirt on…this was a very good entrance for me as I was the first customer of the day and they then paid lots of attention to me. I tell you, woman are simply appreciated in Italy, no matter what age! I am enjoying this attention. A bottle of natural water, a heavenly salad and a ‘quartro formaggio” pizza later, my dining was methodical and relaxing. As I wrote my first email from Rome, I tasted my first real tomato again! We all know how tragic tomatoes taste in the States even organic ones! You know you’ve reached Italy once you taste a tomato.

Board a very comfortable bus and prepare myself for a 3 hour ride crossing the Appenines. It is now 5pm on Saturday and I have no idea how long I've been awake.

Once out of Rome, the drive was beautiful. Lush hills and immaculate roads and properties. Drousy, I find myself closing my eyes to this stunning scenery but I can’t help myself. It’s a long enough drive that we stop mid-way for a pit stop, I use il bano, purchase some water and board. Driving into this region is nothing short of spectacular…it’s still raining though which, is a bit disappointing but I don’t care, I’m in Italy!

Entering this magical town I know I will be happy. Daniella had promised to pick me up at the bus station but we arrive a little early. I take a spot under an awning, it’s now 5pm (I’ve been awake for a very long time; I’ve yet to actually calculate) and within minutes a car pulls up and Georgio jumps out and introduces himself. He is one of the teachers at the school. Sorry, no, he’s not a potential anything…but a friendly, lovely, warm young man who seems genuinely in love with his Italian language and his town of Ascoli. He treats me to a drive around town, he begins teaching me Italian and discouraging English. I’m on my way!

After about 20 yawns, he gets the hint that I need to go home! We park, he leads me through a iron gate of the main road and I meet my housemate Daniella and the Director of the School, Antonella. We are all happy to finally meet in person. We’ve been getting to know each other a bit over the telephone and via email for a few months now.

Okay, I'm going to post this and then continue with another post to attempt to capture Saturday night, Sunday and today! Thanks all!