It is interesting how each restaurant is so distinctive. This eatery was in the country and not so far from a major highway. The building, surrounded by gardens, appeared to be a relic of the Fascist era architecture. The stark facade of brick and cement was far from inviting but gave way to a nice dining experience and a fortunate encounter.
The dining area was al fresco and the restaurant accoutrements were as stark as the building. However, the menu was varied and the wine list was large so, why not? As is the habit in Italy, I was served a glass of sparkling wine and a tray of delicious tasters. The service was very attentive and the background music was interesting.
My fellow diners included a table of four men, a Russian, an English speaker of unknown origin and two Italians. It was obvious they were working out some sort of business as the English speaker relayed details between the Italians and the Russian. The bits I caught were quite entertaining. Across from me was a single woman who spoke fluent Italian but, when she was asked by the chef, visited a table of Americans and spoke perfect English. As it ends up, she was my "fortunate encounter." Fortunately, the American were behind me and did not enter into this dining experience.
From the wine list I selected a 1999 La Spinetta (I like this vineyard) Vigneto Gallina Barolo di Chinato Cocchi Cappellano. This was a big wine, very dry and a nicely smokey aroma with a dark berry taste. I allowed the wine to open as I finished the tasters and enjoyed a ball of fresh mozzarella resting in a small bowl of tomato bisque topped with a fresh basil leaf. This was very colorful and quite tasty.
Dinner began with a "Carpaccio di Dentice gocce di Profumie Colori del Mediteranee." This was a thinly sliced white fish highlighted with dollops of basil and red pepper puree and completed with a spritz of citrus. While my wine did not match but was left to open more fully, this taste was very nice and refreshing. It was a beautiful presentation for such a delicate dish.
Second came the "Ravioli di Ombrina alla olio extravergino Maurizio Menichetti." A nicely presented serving, although the top was a bit crusty(i.e., hard) and the sauce was a bit fishy. However, below the first layer of pasta the dish was soft and elegant. It was as though the dish had waited under the warmer for too long. Despite this being a tuna dish the relatively light wine complemented it well. The dinner was beginning to take shape.
The dinner finale was "Piccione di Cascina Disossato all'uvia nero." This was a serving that perfectly matched my wine. It was the first time for me and pigeon. It was a peasant surprise. The meat was firm but tender with a pleasant "gamey" taste. The broth for the sauce was very rich and the roasted potatoes were perfectly done. As is my habit, a taste for me was put together by cutting a small piece of the meat, covering it with the rich broth and then complementing it with a roasted potato. After each bite was allowed to dissolve on my tongue I would enjoy a large sip of wine. I have learned to prolong my enjoyment and to realize the many dimensions of each serving. Ah! The joy of eating (and drinking).
I had finished my dinner and was lounging over an espresso when I notice that the woman dining alone was writing in a tablet. I leaned forward and asked, "Scusi, scrittore?" (excuse me, are you a writer?) In perfect Boston English she say "yes." I asked if she would like to join me for an after dinner drink. She joined me and I discover that she was Kerin O'keefe, a well known wine writer and an expert on Brunello wines. We had a nice, long talk about food and wine and life. We established what I hope will be a good connection. Only time will tell but her writings are interesting and, with good luck, we'll meet again somewhere in Europe.
Well, that's my story and I'm sticking with it. I had a very nice dinner and a very pleasant encounter. Until next time.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Ristorante San Marco in Canelli, Italy
It was my initial drive from my hotel down into Santo Stefano Belbo and beyond. There were thirteen switchback curves on Strada Provinciale 51and I must admit to enjoying the challenge of each one of them. Reaching the bottom I turned onto Strada Statale 592, heading for Canelli. I entered the paesini on Viale Risorgimento, then turning onto the lovely tree-lined Via Alba. Here, amidst the trees in a quiet residential neighborhood, I found this quite small but lovingly appointed Ristorante.
The entry was encased in glass and contained a showcase for the culinary publication of this well-known chef, Mariuccia Roggero Ferrero. Inside the plain wooden door was a very small, perhaps four tables, dining area. The tables were nicely adorned with linens and fine china. I was greeted by a stately man whom I later discovered was the chef's husband, Piercarlo. He asked if I would like to dine inside or on the roof-top terrace. I selected the terrace and off we went through the back of the ristorante, up a steep staircase and onto the covered roof-top terrace. The terrace was more spacious and equally well adorned.
I settled at my table, receiving the evening's menu and the wine list. As I began to peruse the selections I was served a very nice Spumanti along with a small tasting dish of beautifully presented bite-sized combinations of meats, fishes and veggies. Each portion was a very interesting taste/texture combination, making an excellent start to this culinary adventure.
I selected my dinner and then my wine for this evening. The wine I chose was a 2005 La Spinetta Vigneto Starderi Barbaresco di Castagnole Lanze. For this trip I had decided that I would only drink the wines of the region I was visiting. I had never had a Barbaresco so, what better time to begin? The bottle was decanted (caraffa in Italian) and, as it opened up I finished my tastings and began to observe my fellow diners. As an aside, my selection was fortunate for the wine was perfect with the food. It was soft, delicate and, after opening up, so easy to drink. (In Italian, "del vino e cosi morbido e cosi delicato") Barbarescos may have become my new, favorite wine!
As for my fellow diners, they were all Americans. Near me was a lovely couple from San Francisco who sat quietly, enjoying their food and wine. Across the terrace were two couples from New York who were not so quiet and seemed a bit over-demanding. Observing the New Yorker's interaction with the waiter and Piercarlo, it was obvious that the Italians were very patient. In the end we all chatted and I made an internet connection with the couple from California (tut e bene!).
As food began to arrive it was time to get serious. First came the "Peperone Farcito all a Piemontese con Traditionale Vitello Tonnato". This serving of beautifully prepared and seasoned tuna stuffed into bright red peppers was delicious. The peppers were firm but sufficiently tender to make each bite quite mouthwatering. This serving did not match my wine selection so I was given another glass of sparkling wine which was fine. This was an excellent, light beginning to my dinner.
Next came the "Gnocchi di Patate di Montagna con Salsa Basilico, Fagiolini e Pinoli". The pasta was tender and the sauce was, well, the sort of sauce that, when you hold it on your tongue for a moment your eyes roll back and you just sit in amazement. There was just the right amount of basil, the broth was rich, the pine nuts were perfectly done and the small beans were so tender. I would take a small mouthful, allowing it to rest on my tongue for just a moment and follow that with a sip of wine to fully enhance each experience. For this, the wine was perfect.
Finally, the "Carre d'Agnello con Salsa al Barbera d'Asti e Tartufu Nero". Well, I'm not a big fan of what I consider to be the "overrated" truffle. However, there are times when I have been wrong. This was one of those times. This dish was a sight to behold. The lamb was perfectly done and the sauce was rich and full of truffle bits. Each taste became a combination of a cube of lamb, dipped into the truffle sauce, topped with a piece of truffle, all complimented with a small piece of roasted potato. This time each savory bite was followed by not a sip but a mouth full of wine. The combinations were simply more outstanding than for what I could have hoped.
As I finished I reclined in my chair and smiled. All of the items were cleared from the table and, to my surprise, more utensils were brought. Ah! I forgot. Dolci! Soon came a cup of espresso and another delicious serving. This was the Ristorante's famous "Langa Bunet". There were two large slices of liqueur soaked chocolate cake. The cake was very rich while being very light. The liqueur was present but not strong, simply complementing the cake's moistness. After my large dinner, I was amazed at how ravenously I consumed this serving but it was simply too delicious.
Now, I was finished. Il Conto, per favore. Piercarlo brought my check and escorted my down to the entrance where Mariuccia was waiting. We exchanged pleasantries, she gave me two of her books and I was on my way after a three and a half hour dinner. As I drove back to the San Maurizio I reflected on this experience and why I love food and wine so much!
The entry was encased in glass and contained a showcase for the culinary publication of this well-known chef, Mariuccia Roggero Ferrero. Inside the plain wooden door was a very small, perhaps four tables, dining area. The tables were nicely adorned with linens and fine china. I was greeted by a stately man whom I later discovered was the chef's husband, Piercarlo. He asked if I would like to dine inside or on the roof-top terrace. I selected the terrace and off we went through the back of the ristorante, up a steep staircase and onto the covered roof-top terrace. The terrace was more spacious and equally well adorned.
I settled at my table, receiving the evening's menu and the wine list. As I began to peruse the selections I was served a very nice Spumanti along with a small tasting dish of beautifully presented bite-sized combinations of meats, fishes and veggies. Each portion was a very interesting taste/texture combination, making an excellent start to this culinary adventure.
I selected my dinner and then my wine for this evening. The wine I chose was a 2005 La Spinetta Vigneto Starderi Barbaresco di Castagnole Lanze. For this trip I had decided that I would only drink the wines of the region I was visiting. I had never had a Barbaresco so, what better time to begin? The bottle was decanted (caraffa in Italian) and, as it opened up I finished my tastings and began to observe my fellow diners. As an aside, my selection was fortunate for the wine was perfect with the food. It was soft, delicate and, after opening up, so easy to drink. (In Italian, "del vino e cosi morbido e cosi delicato") Barbarescos may have become my new, favorite wine!
As for my fellow diners, they were all Americans. Near me was a lovely couple from San Francisco who sat quietly, enjoying their food and wine. Across the terrace were two couples from New York who were not so quiet and seemed a bit over-demanding. Observing the New Yorker's interaction with the waiter and Piercarlo, it was obvious that the Italians were very patient. In the end we all chatted and I made an internet connection with the couple from California (tut e bene!).
As food began to arrive it was time to get serious. First came the "Peperone Farcito all a Piemontese con Traditionale Vitello Tonnato". This serving of beautifully prepared and seasoned tuna stuffed into bright red peppers was delicious. The peppers were firm but sufficiently tender to make each bite quite mouthwatering. This serving did not match my wine selection so I was given another glass of sparkling wine which was fine. This was an excellent, light beginning to my dinner.
Next came the "Gnocchi di Patate di Montagna con Salsa Basilico, Fagiolini e Pinoli". The pasta was tender and the sauce was, well, the sort of sauce that, when you hold it on your tongue for a moment your eyes roll back and you just sit in amazement. There was just the right amount of basil, the broth was rich, the pine nuts were perfectly done and the small beans were so tender. I would take a small mouthful, allowing it to rest on my tongue for just a moment and follow that with a sip of wine to fully enhance each experience. For this, the wine was perfect.
Finally, the "Carre d'Agnello con Salsa al Barbera d'Asti e Tartufu Nero". Well, I'm not a big fan of what I consider to be the "overrated" truffle. However, there are times when I have been wrong. This was one of those times. This dish was a sight to behold. The lamb was perfectly done and the sauce was rich and full of truffle bits. Each taste became a combination of a cube of lamb, dipped into the truffle sauce, topped with a piece of truffle, all complimented with a small piece of roasted potato. This time each savory bite was followed by not a sip but a mouth full of wine. The combinations were simply more outstanding than for what I could have hoped.
As I finished I reclined in my chair and smiled. All of the items were cleared from the table and, to my surprise, more utensils were brought. Ah! I forgot. Dolci! Soon came a cup of espresso and another delicious serving. This was the Ristorante's famous "Langa Bunet". There were two large slices of liqueur soaked chocolate cake. The cake was very rich while being very light. The liqueur was present but not strong, simply complementing the cake's moistness. After my large dinner, I was amazed at how ravenously I consumed this serving but it was simply too delicious.
Now, I was finished. Il Conto, per favore. Piercarlo brought my check and escorted my down to the entrance where Mariuccia was waiting. We exchanged pleasantries, she gave me two of her books and I was on my way after a three and a half hour dinner. As I drove back to the San Maurizio I reflected on this experience and why I love food and wine so much!
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Morning Sensations
The morning light in the Piemonte is quite spectacular but does little to dwarf the San Maurizio's glorious breakfast buffet. The tables are filled with fruits and pastries and meats and cheeses and breads and juices. I arose early for Europeans and the Grand Salon, festooned with frescos, was empty of people but full of the aromas from this morning feast. While the air is filled with aromas, the room stood quiet except for the occasional excited chatter of the Italian staff in the adjoining kitchen.
I took a small breakfast of eggs and meats and cheeses. A coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice(aranciata) were brought to me. I took a second aranciata and lounged for a time. After sufficient basking I strolled about the gardens just outside of the Grand Salon. The morning air was fresh but it was already warming. A haze from the heat could already be seen in the distance. I took a seat on a garden bench. The view overlooked the rolling hills covered with vineyards. Many of the hills were topped with small villages surrounding church towers. The vineyards were dotted with villas of varied sizes. The villas were not the bright Tuscan yellows but were more light yellows and subdued whites. Many of the villas were accompanied by several large out-buildings to house what must be necessary for tending the vineyards. All in sight was pristine.
I could've sat here for quite a time but my thoughts of relaxation gave way to exploring. This morning was an opportunity to visit Alba and a few of its surrounding villages. So, off I went to see and to learn.
I took a small breakfast of eggs and meats and cheeses. A coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice(aranciata) were brought to me. I took a second aranciata and lounged for a time. After sufficient basking I strolled about the gardens just outside of the Grand Salon. The morning air was fresh but it was already warming. A haze from the heat could already be seen in the distance. I took a seat on a garden bench. The view overlooked the rolling hills covered with vineyards. Many of the hills were topped with small villages surrounding church towers. The vineyards were dotted with villas of varied sizes. The villas were not the bright Tuscan yellows but were more light yellows and subdued whites. Many of the villas were accompanied by several large out-buildings to house what must be necessary for tending the vineyards. All in sight was pristine.
I could've sat here for quite a time but my thoughts of relaxation gave way to exploring. This morning was an opportunity to visit Alba and a few of its surrounding villages. So, off I went to see and to learn.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Sono Arrivato!
After what seemed like an eternity of travel I finally sat down to dine at the San Maurizio, my hotel for the next week. The hotel, formerly a monastery, is a stately property situated in the countryside midway between Alba and Asti in the Piemonte region. It is a fine location from which to explore this wine rich area but for tonight I shall simply bask in the cuisine of Ristorante Guido.
After a refreshing shower I wandered down the three flights of stone steps to the ancient stone wine cellar that houses the Ristorante. The curved stone ceilings form a majestic framework for the very nicely appointed eatery. The head waiter quietly appeared at my table side. He inquired whether I would prefer Italian or English menu. I gambled on Italian and he smiled. Shortly after he moved away a quite beautiful young woman appeared with a glass of sparkling wine and a tray of fresh breads.
I sat for a bit, sipping the wine and observing my fellow diners. The most interesting was two elderly Italian couples directly across from my table. They were, as one might expect, animated in their discourse. However, from time to time, the conversation grew hushed as the two women would lean their heads together and the men would grow quiet. It was very interesting to watch.
My attention was soon drawn away from them as the sommelier brought the wine list. The list was comprised of four books, a small book for wines by the glass, two medium sized books with offerings from France and the other wine regions of Italy, and a 150 page book with the wine offerings from this region, the Piemonte. He sat the books on the table. I looked at the books. I looked up at him. He smiled, said something in Italian, turned and walked away. I quickly decided to only drink bottles of wine from this region, thus discarding three books, leaving me with but 150 pages to peruse.
After some time the waiter appeared, I selected my dinner and asked for the sommelier's assistance. We came up with a Borgogno 1997 Barolo Classico Riserva. The wine ended up being a nicely soft but firm wine with good fruit and smokey overtones. It was decanted table side as the serving of my meal began. First was a very delicate steak tartare in a very smooth olive oil accompanied by fresh tuna blended with al dente veggies. Both of these were nicely complimented by the sparkling wine, which I continued to drink while the Barolo opened up.
Second came a serving of eggplant soufflé over a tomato bisque. This combination was perfectly complimented by small slices of freshly baked onion bread. With this serving I began to drink the Barolo and they fit together very well.
Next came a house specialty, Agnolotti pasta, freshly made and very fine, stuffed with finely chopped fresh veggies strongly enhanced with a blend of wild rabbit, pork and veal. The serving came it two portions, one served in a richly delicious broth from the three meats and the other sans broth. I was instructed that this was to be eaten with the fingers and not a fork. My wine glass was filled and I was left to enjoy. My first selection was a piece with the broth. I placed it on my tongue, not chewing, allowing it to dissolve in my mouth. It was so good. My shoulders slumped and I sat back in my chair. As the piece was totally dissolved I raised my hand, grasped my wine glass and took a small sip. If there is a culinary heaven the person that fabricated this will certainly go there. For what seemed like an eternity I went through this process of allowing each piece to dissolve and following it with a bit of wine. I alternated the with-broth and without broth pieces. I enjoyed them equally and the wine was simply a perfect complement to each mouthwatering bite. I thought that I was spent and I was until the next course arrived.
Fourth was the risotto with porcini mushrooms. The broth was equally rich and the rice was perfectly done. The distinctive porcini taste was, again, excellent with the firm Barolo. The focaccia bread brought to recover every last bit of the broth was tender and warm. If it hadn't been for the Agnolotti this would've been the best portion of the meal.
Lastly came the main entree of wild goat served with caramelised fig and roasted mushrooms. The fig was a honey style fig and its soft, sweet taste was a perfect compliment to the strong goat meat. The mushrooms were firm and rich, allowing me to enjoy them without the addition of another texture. The goat meat was a bit sinuey, if that's a word, but moist and flavorful. The goat skin was crisp and very flavorful. A bit of skin with a bit of fig was a truly wonderful taste and texture sensation. A bit of firm mushroom with a bit of moist goat meat was an equally delicious gout.
Finally, my plate sufficiently empty, I sat back to relax after such a glorious repast. I hadn't wanted to consume a bottle of wine but it was so great with the food and I looked over to find the carafe nearly empty. The table was cleared and a tray of sweets was placed just off to the side of the table. I regarded the tray but could not bring myself to take one bite. I made a signal to the waiter, asking him to charge my room. He nodded and I was off to bed, very content with my premier meal for this Italian vacation. I wonder if I wobbled?
After a refreshing shower I wandered down the three flights of stone steps to the ancient stone wine cellar that houses the Ristorante. The curved stone ceilings form a majestic framework for the very nicely appointed eatery. The head waiter quietly appeared at my table side. He inquired whether I would prefer Italian or English menu. I gambled on Italian and he smiled. Shortly after he moved away a quite beautiful young woman appeared with a glass of sparkling wine and a tray of fresh breads.
I sat for a bit, sipping the wine and observing my fellow diners. The most interesting was two elderly Italian couples directly across from my table. They were, as one might expect, animated in their discourse. However, from time to time, the conversation grew hushed as the two women would lean their heads together and the men would grow quiet. It was very interesting to watch.
My attention was soon drawn away from them as the sommelier brought the wine list. The list was comprised of four books, a small book for wines by the glass, two medium sized books with offerings from France and the other wine regions of Italy, and a 150 page book with the wine offerings from this region, the Piemonte. He sat the books on the table. I looked at the books. I looked up at him. He smiled, said something in Italian, turned and walked away. I quickly decided to only drink bottles of wine from this region, thus discarding three books, leaving me with but 150 pages to peruse.
After some time the waiter appeared, I selected my dinner and asked for the sommelier's assistance. We came up with a Borgogno 1997 Barolo Classico Riserva. The wine ended up being a nicely soft but firm wine with good fruit and smokey overtones. It was decanted table side as the serving of my meal began. First was a very delicate steak tartare in a very smooth olive oil accompanied by fresh tuna blended with al dente veggies. Both of these were nicely complimented by the sparkling wine, which I continued to drink while the Barolo opened up.
Second came a serving of eggplant soufflé over a tomato bisque. This combination was perfectly complimented by small slices of freshly baked onion bread. With this serving I began to drink the Barolo and they fit together very well.
Next came a house specialty, Agnolotti pasta, freshly made and very fine, stuffed with finely chopped fresh veggies strongly enhanced with a blend of wild rabbit, pork and veal. The serving came it two portions, one served in a richly delicious broth from the three meats and the other sans broth. I was instructed that this was to be eaten with the fingers and not a fork. My wine glass was filled and I was left to enjoy. My first selection was a piece with the broth. I placed it on my tongue, not chewing, allowing it to dissolve in my mouth. It was so good. My shoulders slumped and I sat back in my chair. As the piece was totally dissolved I raised my hand, grasped my wine glass and took a small sip. If there is a culinary heaven the person that fabricated this will certainly go there. For what seemed like an eternity I went through this process of allowing each piece to dissolve and following it with a bit of wine. I alternated the with-broth and without broth pieces. I enjoyed them equally and the wine was simply a perfect complement to each mouthwatering bite. I thought that I was spent and I was until the next course arrived.
Fourth was the risotto with porcini mushrooms. The broth was equally rich and the rice was perfectly done. The distinctive porcini taste was, again, excellent with the firm Barolo. The focaccia bread brought to recover every last bit of the broth was tender and warm. If it hadn't been for the Agnolotti this would've been the best portion of the meal.
Lastly came the main entree of wild goat served with caramelised fig and roasted mushrooms. The fig was a honey style fig and its soft, sweet taste was a perfect compliment to the strong goat meat. The mushrooms were firm and rich, allowing me to enjoy them without the addition of another texture. The goat meat was a bit sinuey, if that's a word, but moist and flavorful. The goat skin was crisp and very flavorful. A bit of skin with a bit of fig was a truly wonderful taste and texture sensation. A bit of firm mushroom with a bit of moist goat meat was an equally delicious gout.
Finally, my plate sufficiently empty, I sat back to relax after such a glorious repast. I hadn't wanted to consume a bottle of wine but it was so great with the food and I looked over to find the carafe nearly empty. The table was cleared and a tray of sweets was placed just off to the side of the table. I regarded the tray but could not bring myself to take one bite. I made a signal to the waiter, asking him to charge my room. He nodded and I was off to bed, very content with my premier meal for this Italian vacation. I wonder if I wobbled?
Monday, September 10, 2012
Arriving in Europe
After a very nice, long, deep sleep I hustled over to JFK to catch my Iberia flight. I didn't know Iberia Airlines but, in general, have good expectations for flights on foreign carriers. I was not disappointed. Although my ability to communicate (I speak no Spanish...Lo siento, pero yo no hablo Espanol...except, "I am sorry but I don't speak Spanish") was severely limited I received many smiles, very good food, nice wine and my seat converted into a flat bed. For what more could one ask?
We arrived early in Madrid which gave me plenty of time to get through customs and giving me some time to enjoy the beauty of the Madrid airport. The undulating roof was beautiful and the people with whom I interacted in Madrid were extremely friendly. Maybe the beauty of the people enhanced my opinion of the airport.
This travel day would encompass four travel legs, the second leg taking me to Barcelona. Maybe I was a bit worn out from the JFK-Madrid flight but the short flight to Barcelona just seemed odd. It made me somewhat uncomfortable and I began to think about my luggage. Airlines have lost my luggage on each of the last three trips. On this trip these two airlines, American and Iberia, have had three opportunities to do the same. There was a plane change in Los Angeles, in New York and in Madrid, so I'm beginning to estimate the odds of seeing my luggage in Barcelona. Given my feeling about this flight and this crew I'm thinking the odds are pretty low. However, wonders will never cease. My bags arrived, I passed through customs (again) and searched for my next flight (Barcelona to Zurich) on Swissair.
The search for Swissair in the Barcelona airport was an unbelievable experience couched in the misunderstanding of the difference between Terminal C and Concourse C. My misunderstanding of that distinction allowed me to drag my luggage for long distances until I eventually discovered the error of my ways. I walked the length and breadth of that large airport (I must've needed the exercise), finally arriving at the correct spot.
Although it was probably a result of my misadventure, I cannot say I cared much for the airport in Barcelona nor the friendliness of it people. Couple that with the fact that I had been traveling for 14 hours and it a wonder that I didn't go postal.
So, I'm ready to leave this place, but, that becomes complicated by the ultra-efficient Swissair, which can't seem to find a plane to take us to Zurich. Eventually that happens and we have a lovely flight over Switzerland. Although I've been to Geneva, I can't say I've seen that beautiful country and the afternoon flyover was very nice. As it happens, I had a rather long layover in Zurich, which is not a beautiful place to spend much time. Again my flight is delayed by Swissair but I finally arrive in Nice. After 36 hours of travel I am so happy to jump into a comfortable bed for a long, deep sleep. The next day I will begin my travels into Italy and, despite the fact that it has taken me nearly three days to arrive at this point, I am happy.
We arrived early in Madrid which gave me plenty of time to get through customs and giving me some time to enjoy the beauty of the Madrid airport. The undulating roof was beautiful and the people with whom I interacted in Madrid were extremely friendly. Maybe the beauty of the people enhanced my opinion of the airport.
This travel day would encompass four travel legs, the second leg taking me to Barcelona. Maybe I was a bit worn out from the JFK-Madrid flight but the short flight to Barcelona just seemed odd. It made me somewhat uncomfortable and I began to think about my luggage. Airlines have lost my luggage on each of the last three trips. On this trip these two airlines, American and Iberia, have had three opportunities to do the same. There was a plane change in Los Angeles, in New York and in Madrid, so I'm beginning to estimate the odds of seeing my luggage in Barcelona. Given my feeling about this flight and this crew I'm thinking the odds are pretty low. However, wonders will never cease. My bags arrived, I passed through customs (again) and searched for my next flight (Barcelona to Zurich) on Swissair.
The search for Swissair in the Barcelona airport was an unbelievable experience couched in the misunderstanding of the difference between Terminal C and Concourse C. My misunderstanding of that distinction allowed me to drag my luggage for long distances until I eventually discovered the error of my ways. I walked the length and breadth of that large airport (I must've needed the exercise), finally arriving at the correct spot.
Although it was probably a result of my misadventure, I cannot say I cared much for the airport in Barcelona nor the friendliness of it people. Couple that with the fact that I had been traveling for 14 hours and it a wonder that I didn't go postal.
So, I'm ready to leave this place, but, that becomes complicated by the ultra-efficient Swissair, which can't seem to find a plane to take us to Zurich. Eventually that happens and we have a lovely flight over Switzerland. Although I've been to Geneva, I can't say I've seen that beautiful country and the afternoon flyover was very nice. As it happens, I had a rather long layover in Zurich, which is not a beautiful place to spend much time. Again my flight is delayed by Swissair but I finally arrive in Nice. After 36 hours of travel I am so happy to jump into a comfortable bed for a long, deep sleep. The next day I will begin my travels into Italy and, despite the fact that it has taken me nearly three days to arrive at this point, I am happy.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Getting Away
As is my habit, life was a bit harried in the days leading up to my departure. Settling details, resolving issues and late, unexpected developments always seem to interrupt what I always expect will be a smooth transition from my relatively mundane life to my life of "travel adventure." But that is all behind me now as I sit in the British Airways lounge in New York, reflecting on leaving home for such an extended time.
The departure is always flooded with mixed feelings. I sat in the plane looking across the lava tarmac and up at Hualalai Mountain, shrouded in rain, wondering how the most important woman in my life, Pua, would endure my absence. With good luck the house sitters will treat her much better than I have over the past couple of years. There has been so much time away and, due to her advanced age, she deserves more attention, not less. However, the search for something, I know not what, has dominated life and I don't see that ending soon.
The plane leaves my home island and the journey begins. I am feeling a bit of trepidation about the unknown, a bit of melancholia as I travel alone and a growing amount of excitement as I move down this new path.
One key aspect of all of my adventures exists in the people I meet. Not being a shy, retiring person, I seek out many and varied social contacts. In my first flight I sat with a rather nervous lady with darting eyes and in constant body motion. When she told me that she was born and had always lived in Hawaii I was astonished. Admittedly, she was a city girl (from Honolulu) but why hadn't her visits to her home in North Kohala settled her? She was a mystery that there was no time to unravel.
My next flight placed me beside a grandmotherly woman of Filipino extraction. She was quite elegant and easily shared her stories of life as a travel guide. She was obviously a strong person and, despite her petite stature, it was evident she quartered no nonsense in the conduct of either her life or her business. She was, indeed, a joyful person with whom to spend time. The flight went rapidly and we soon parted ways but she had given me an idea. What if I were to learn enough Italian or French to become a seasonal travel guide for Americans in those countries? That's something to think about.
My final flight of the day, from Los Angeles to New York, found me seated next to a rather disinterested California businessman. Therefore, I spent my time studying Italian until I happened to talk with the flight attendant for my section. She, her name Terri, was quite friendly and, as we talked further, we discovered that we were staying at the same hotel. She was nice enough, with the approval of the Captain, to offer me a ride with the crew to the hotel. The trip with the crew, who were quite chatty, was much faster, saving me an hour or so. After over ten hours of flying I was very happy for the accelerated arrive into a warm shower and a very comfortable bed. I slept long and well.
So, after a rejuvenating night, here I am, awaiting my flight to Barcelona. I am sitting amidst the absolute wonder of international travelers. My airline is Iberia and the primary language is, of course, Spanish. Me? I don't understand a word but they are great fun to watch. One day I must learn a bit of Spanish, but, that's another project.
Talk to you later.
The departure is always flooded with mixed feelings. I sat in the plane looking across the lava tarmac and up at Hualalai Mountain, shrouded in rain, wondering how the most important woman in my life, Pua, would endure my absence. With good luck the house sitters will treat her much better than I have over the past couple of years. There has been so much time away and, due to her advanced age, she deserves more attention, not less. However, the search for something, I know not what, has dominated life and I don't see that ending soon.
The plane leaves my home island and the journey begins. I am feeling a bit of trepidation about the unknown, a bit of melancholia as I travel alone and a growing amount of excitement as I move down this new path.
One key aspect of all of my adventures exists in the people I meet. Not being a shy, retiring person, I seek out many and varied social contacts. In my first flight I sat with a rather nervous lady with darting eyes and in constant body motion. When she told me that she was born and had always lived in Hawaii I was astonished. Admittedly, she was a city girl (from Honolulu) but why hadn't her visits to her home in North Kohala settled her? She was a mystery that there was no time to unravel.
My next flight placed me beside a grandmotherly woman of Filipino extraction. She was quite elegant and easily shared her stories of life as a travel guide. She was obviously a strong person and, despite her petite stature, it was evident she quartered no nonsense in the conduct of either her life or her business. She was, indeed, a joyful person with whom to spend time. The flight went rapidly and we soon parted ways but she had given me an idea. What if I were to learn enough Italian or French to become a seasonal travel guide for Americans in those countries? That's something to think about.
My final flight of the day, from Los Angeles to New York, found me seated next to a rather disinterested California businessman. Therefore, I spent my time studying Italian until I happened to talk with the flight attendant for my section. She, her name Terri, was quite friendly and, as we talked further, we discovered that we were staying at the same hotel. She was nice enough, with the approval of the Captain, to offer me a ride with the crew to the hotel. The trip with the crew, who were quite chatty, was much faster, saving me an hour or so. After over ten hours of flying I was very happy for the accelerated arrive into a warm shower and a very comfortable bed. I slept long and well.
So, after a rejuvenating night, here I am, awaiting my flight to Barcelona. I am sitting amidst the absolute wonder of international travelers. My airline is Iberia and the primary language is, of course, Spanish. Me? I don't understand a word but they are great fun to watch. One day I must learn a bit of Spanish, but, that's another project.
Talk to you later.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
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