Learning Italian

I never realised that learning Italian was a competitive sport.  But around the cottage this is starting to be the case.

Jean's homework.

We had our first lesson last Friday and were plunged into the realm of verbs – both the regular and the irregular.  I must have been away the day they covered all this in school so not only was I learning Italian I was also learning the structure of language – in Italian.  Suffice it to say I don’t think I’m going to be a star pupil.

My lovely wife, however, was taking it all in, chipping in with useful comments and questions and making copious notes along the way.  After an hour my brain was full and our tutor, Mauro, realising that nothing more was going in asked us to do a little homework for the next lesson.  Nothing too taxing but homework none the less.

We adjourned to a bar around the Campo in Siena for a well deserved drink and discussion.  We were pleased with the lesson and with our choice of language school.  Yes, there was some homework to do but, let’s face it, we didn’t have a lot else to do.  It should be easy – no stress.

Yesterday morning I rose at my usual time of 10am, refreshed my cup of tea in the kitchen, and wandered out to the verandah.  There, hunched over her notes with cigarette in hand, was my wife furiously scribbling homework notes, completing sentences, scouring the dictionary for nouns, and  filling page after page with perfectly executed Italian.

Now to put things in context, I’d spent upwards of 15 minutes the previous day sitting by the pool jotting down some random notes which I thought might cover the homework.  I had included a rather good doodle of an Italian villa on a hill with a Cypress tree next to it – not strictly part of the homework but I’m sure I would get extra marks for it.

I could see where this was going and I wasn’t going to stand for it.  The last 24 hours has seen a flurry of activity as notes are made about notes, verbs are conjugated and nouns are possessed and repossessed.  Conversation has been non-existent and the only sound has been the occasional sentence said aloud in italian to test pronunciation.

Alas I fear it is all to no avail as every time I sneak a look at Jean’s work I see myself drifting further behind the pace.  My only hope is that time honoured excuse – the dog ate my homework.

Now, where is Daisy?

Back to school

There’s a degree of nervousness around the cottage today.  It’s the first Italian lesson this afternoon which means a double stress.  Firstly we have to apply our brains to something other than – pool day or not a pool day – and secondly we actually have to be somewhere at a pre arranged time.  Almost like a meeting.

But as with all things Italian there is a twist.  And the twist was an invitation we got from our language school to lunch last Wednesday.  It was an opportunity to get to know the staff and some of the other pupils before starting lessons.  Everyone bought something for the meal and we spent 2 hours chatting in a mix of Italian, English and occasionally other obscure languages as required.

The students are all nationalities, ages and backgrounds.  Everything from an Australian art student brushing up her Italian on the way to the Venice Biennale where she is one of the hosts at the Oz site, to a retired Irishman who was taking a group from one of the local Sinese contrada to have lunch with the Irish ambassador in Rome on Saturday.  He had learnt Italian at the school previously and was just taking a few “top up” lessons in anticipation of the visit.

Anyway, enough of this writing, I must go and get my school books ready.

Siena

There has been a town on the site of Siena since 900BC although the height of Siena’s power was in the 1400s.  Traditionally Siena and Florence have been competing city states with the balance of power fluctuating between the two until this rivalry culminated in a final battle in 1555 which Florence won.  Since then Siena has always been the second city in Tuscany.

Having said that, it’s our local town and our first city of Tuscany.  We love it.

Our love affair began 10 years ago when we first visited.  We had a rental car and very little understanding of Italian and we were determined to see this town.  As we drove in we noticed that the wide modern roads were turning to narrow cobbled roads flanked by two and three story buildings and that the volume of traffic was dropping. The streets got narrower with more pedestrians, all of whom seemed surprised to see us.  Sadly our Italian wasn’t good enough to translate  the “residents only – no entry” signs that dotted the walls.  Eventually we realised that where we had our car was a place where cars simply shouldn’t be – imagine driving through the middle of Queensgate Mall in Lower Hutt on a Wednesday afternoon and you’ll understand.

Our only problem was we didn’t know how to get out again.  Siena is a maze, we had no idea where we were and at that time GPS was still a classified military secret.  My suggestion was we park the car, get out and advise Hertz to come and get it.  Jean was slightly more practical.  She spotted a local taxi and figured that following that would firstly keep us out of trouble and secondly, eventually lead us out.

To this day I’m sure there is a bemused Sienese taxi driver who wonders why two crazy tourists in a dirty Punto rental car followed him around Siena for an afternoon.  Whenever he stopped to pick up or drop off a passenger, we stopped and dutifully waited.  But eventually the twists and turns became less and the roads became wider and we exited the old city through one of the many gates – still following the cab.

We now know the way to see the old part of Siena is on foot and to make use of one of the many parking areas and buildings that are positioned around the outside of the old city.  The one we use most is in the University and the walk into the city is an experience in itself.

The heart of Siena is the Campo, the large semi circular piazza in front of the Palazzo Pubblico or town hall which has it’s own impressive clock tower.  The tower dominates the city skyline and is an ideal vantage point to view the city.  It’s 400 steps to the top and the climb is not recommended for those scared of enclosed spaces (the walk up has virtually no windows and is a narrow spiral staircase) or heights (the view from the top covers a fair chunk or the Tuscan countryside).

The campo is also the location for the twice yearly Palio when the various contrada or neighborhoods of Siena compete in a horse race around the Campo.  If you are visiting Siena on July 2 or August 15 it’s a “must see” event.

This trip we couldn’t wait to visit Siena and specifically to spend an afternoon sitting in the Campo having a drink with the girls and simply take in the sights and sounds around us.  And that’s the thing.  While the Campo is a major tourist attraction with tour groups and tourists always enjoying the sights, it is still a place to find the locals doing what Sienese locals do best.  Just getting on with life.

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Tuscany is green.

No I don’t mean in the tree hugging, hemp suit, brown paper recycling way.  The landscape itself is actually green – bright, glowing verde.

Everytime we’ve come to Tuscany in the past it has been midsummer.  And the heat of the preceding months have done their work – the colours of summer are tans and browns and burnt ochres.  The colour palate hints at green in the trees, cypresss and pines, but the overwhelming look is a faded patchwork of earthy tones.  Fields of sun flowers are dotted in between hay fields that have been harvested and now lie dormant, brown and tanned in the sun, the hay resting in rolled bails drying and waiting for collection before Autumn.

But May is different.  Everything is growing furiously.  Crops have yet to be harvested and the countryside is bursting with life.  It’s like some controversial artist has taken a brush and wiped the brightest green across the Tuscan hills and valleys.  The Tuscan tourist board would not be impressed.

A neighbouring villa on a nearby hilltop.

As we drove to our cottage for the first time this green-ness took us by surprise.  Were we in the right place?  Had we inadvertantly stumbled into Tuscany’s greener and wetter neighbour Umbria by mistake? Were our memories playing tricks with us?

Happily the last few days have seen the start of Tuscany changing from spring to summer.  Spotted across the landscape, some fields that were green have now been harvested and have, overnight, taken on that dried summer feel.  In the mornings we hear the sound of tractors firing up and later that day another field has been transformed.

Already we can see the Tuscany we remember returning, slowly but surely.

The full view from the terrace.

We’re here!

After a 2 hour drive from the Portofino Coast with a stop off in Florence to pick up some doggie supplies we arrived at our place.

We were greeted by the owner Mrs Patrizia whose grasp of English was amost as good as our grasp of Italian and after much hand waving, nodding and gesturing she showed us around our home for the next 6 months or so.

The guided tour didn’t take long.

We’d figured that the whole cottage was about half the size of our living room at home and we were right.  Three rooms – an open plan lounge, dining room and kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom.  The open plan area is compact enough that taking the dishes from the dining table to the kitchen means leaning back and putting things on the bench.

The cottage has an unofficial fourth room which will probably get used the most as summer progresses – the front verandah which is shaded in the mornings and catches the afternoon sun filtered through the surrounding trees.  In the height of summer this will be the centre of living, I suspect.

Although the cottage is ideal for a week long summer rental, it lacks a few things we consider necessities for a 6 month stay and we are spending the first week making lists. Currently the list contains everything from a decent kettle (making coffee, no problem everything is provided but boiling water for tea means a saucepan of water on the stove) to more pillows, a barbecue (we are kiwis after all) and decent wine glasses.

One thing that took us by surprise was the lack of a decent oven. There is a gas hob and a small benchtop oven but nowhere for Jean to cook her famous Tuscan roast chicken.  This something we are going to remedy and we are on the lookout for a decent benchtop oven.  Either that or we are going to be buying one hell of a barbecue.

Every journey starts with a single step. This is ours.

Italy is about as far from New Zealand as you can get – both geographically and culturally. We’ve experienced wonderful holidays it Italy for the last decade and the nagging question has always been – what would it be like to live there?

The only way to answer that question was to step out of our comfortable lives in New Zealand and into whatever a life in Italy has to offer. We did that on Wednesday April 6, 2011.

It sounds easy if you say it quickly. But it meant leaving behind family and jobs, renting out our house, storing our precious things and, most importantly, bringing our girls Poppie and Daisy along for the trip.

Poppie and Daisy are our dogs. Small, furry, white Bichon Frise. And they are definitely part of our family.

So what sounded so simple to say turned out to be a tad more complicated and I’m sure the fun is only beginning.