Florence - of Negronis and Martinis.

We took the train to Florence. Oh, how wonderful it was to sit back and not drive or worry about parking! We arrived to 34 degree sweltering heat. Florence is in a fish bowl of hills so no breeze was to be had. We found our hotel or not really a hotel - I don’t know what this new hotel type accommodation is called but you let yourself in and there is no one at reception. I didn’t realise it when I booked it but I quite like to have a helpful person at reception but that was not to be.

The room is beautiful and right next to a great restaurant which I realise I have been to before. I have an eggplant parmigiano in a froth of parmesan cream. It’s wonderful but sightseeing may have to wait until the cool of the evening when we meet up with a friend of the daughter’s for a Truffle negroni! A sip and then slowly the truffle scent hits you.

Then off to Osteria Nuvoli for dinner. It is a small hole in the wall bar upstairs and then we’re shown downstairs to a few dining tables. This place has been open for 211 years! Supposedly there’s a grave within the wall and the place is full of ambience. I have a stuffed chicken roast with potatoes and always, if we can get it, a plate of chicory and some rustic red wine. Perfect.

And then we pass by the Duomo, backlit and surreal in the dusk, coral pink and malachite green and mourn the loss of so many artists that used to sell their work around the church, so few now. Our room is so hot, the air con only cools one part of the room, we sweat our way through the night.

Next day we head to the markets and the baby pears are appearing, the artichoke flowers are blossoming, big bunches of pumpkin flowers are nestled in their leaves, the famous purple Tropea onions with their fluff roots are nestled amongst each other, beautiful plump pale coral and lime green tomatoes glisten, focaccias dripping in olive green oil are tempting.

Lunch is prosciutto, a soft cheese and fried bread balls and a selection of different aged pecorinos with jam.

And then we brave the Uffizi gallery but not without a stuff up with tickets. I booked two galleries and they mixed up the times so as we stood at the Accademia, ready to enter, we are told we should be at the Uffizi and there is nothing we can do about their mistake. We make a beeline for the Uffizi in the dazzling heat of the midday sun and are exhausted by the time we arrive but it is worth it, always. But we did go to see the ten Titians, only to find there were only five. By the time we get out, it’s time for a drink!

We head back towards home and go to Le Menagere which was excellent last time I was there but this time it’s expensive and the service questionable. Then we go to another place that was fantastic in 2019 only to order a pasta dish with a special pork and chilli sausage called nduja that had no nduja in it. I was tired and slightly cranky and I sent it back. I ordered a lasagna with guinea fowl and spatchcock in a cream sauce that was excellent. Glad I complained.

The next day we go back to the Accademia to see Michelangelo’s David. How things have changed since I was there 33 years ago when I just wondered in, paid and enjoyed the gallery with hardly anyone around me. Now you book a session time and it’s jam packed.

But I had forgotten how beautiful the medieval art is in here and Michelangelo’s unfinished sculptures are impressively modern.

And then we stumble on another hole in the wall place, a quaint bar called Antiche Dogane for a much needed Spritz and a discussion on Martinis. When the Martini arrives, it comes in a chilled silver cup with essence of olive juice and a plate of eggplant balls. Neither of which is charged as the owner said he doesn’t charge for Martinis when he find a customer who loves them. It also comes with a glass of vermouth, a sort of chaser. We will return.

We venture our later to go to the Palazzo Medici Riccardi which has a beautiful exhibition of paintings by Oscar Ghiglia from the early 19th century. The palace itself was grand and overwhelming but the chapel is exquisite with beautiful medieval frescoes.

We decide to head back to our favourite bar, sitting outside and drinking Negronis served in a wine glass with all Italian ingredients which again arrives with tiny aperitivi; the tiny fried mozzarella sandwiches and puff pastry rounds with tomato and bocconcini. We are again welcomed by the friendly owner and another free Martini is gifted. There are no prices, no menu here.

We go back to a place we know is good and have duck ragout with a local thick pasta and an Amaretti dusted pannacotta for dessert.

Breakfast from the hotel is served at a quaint vintage cafe, it’s like an antique shop, everything is for sale. It’s run by an interesting guy who has drag shows in the theatre next door and has a holiday home in Florida.

After our macchiatos and tiny croissants, we head to the main market of Florence. Again, it has changed from a market full of produce to a market with a few stalls and mainly upmarket restaurants, cafes and bars. I buy the most amazing turmeric focaccia with prosciutto, sweet figs and Brie which is amazing. Then we wait for the tripe sandwiches that Florence is famous for, not for me but for my friend. Finally it is ready, they dip the bun in the juices and fill it with the spiced tripe. Evidently it was amazing but I’m happy with my focaccia

Then we’re off to the Ponte Vecchio which of course, is clogged with tourists, just like us but we feel we are above all that and we head down the side and along the river where we find an amazing artist/ceramicist/engineer. His work is beautiful and so we buy some paintings.

Our final night and we dress up and head to our favourite bar for another type of Negroni and then to a great restaurant with a Malaysian waiter who made us feel like royalty. We had a panzanella salad and roasted chicken with amazing yellow and flavourful potatoes, simple but good which the Italians excel at. Dessert was a caffe corretto, something I’d heard of but never tried. It’s an espresso with Sambuca and it’s incredible!

We have spent most of our meal being entertained by a beautiful girl who slid into her seat and suddenly two waiters appear in tandem but sadly only one can take her order. She gets her computer out and a glass of wine appears and the waiters take it in turn to check on her. She is nonchalant and at ease with the attention. Towards the end, we begin to talk and find out she was a model but she decided that she liked to eat so now she’s a rep for cosmetics. The waiters are in constant attendance as we leave. Ah, Italia!Florence

To Venice with love.

We dropped the car off in Venice and I was so glad to not have to drive anymore! Venice was hot and filled with people but I’d booked a place that was fairly quiet in Cannereggio. And off to lunch we went for ricotta filled ravioli with sage and almonds and a very good caponata and with the coffee came an assortment of biscuits and gooseberries.

We went to look at the artwork in the supermarket because, Venice being Venice, every place is beautiful. Sadly the supermarket is in an art nouveau theatre but at least between the cans of tuna and assorted vegetables, it will survive.

We dined on fritto misto served with a slice of white polenta and we watched the penumbra slowly fade into golds and peach colours rippling on the canals.

Breakfast was in the old part of the palazzo with a chandelier from the 1800’s and painted wooden beams.

Then we were off to Florians, my favourite expensive coffee shop. We are hot, bothered and sweaty but we calm down over our excellent coffees as outside the band starts up.

Next to the markets, half the size as pre-covid which saddens me but everything is still artistically placed and photogenic.

Then we find an interesting little bar, Pulperia, where we have a brunch of wonderfully seasoned octopus and good bread with an early morning drink because in Italy, around eleven am, the Venetians are out having a wine and a cichetti. At the end we have a Venetian custard with tiny meringues and biscotti.

Then we are off in the heat of midday to find my husband’s relative's house. Titian was the most famous Venetian painter of the 16th century and finally, after many years, I have found an address, obscure but hopeful. And there it is and if we were doubtful, an old lady hanging out of her window asks us if we are looking for the house of Tiziano and we nod and she says: E qui! I breathe it in, I try to imagine him walking down the street. It used to be on the waterfront but they have extended to build more houses so it is slightly behind. But it has a garden which is a rarity in Venice and Titian used to entertain his visitors there. An English woman has bought it and done it up and I dream of becoming rich and buying it one day. Imagine!

Dinner is amazing! We eat on a little quiet canal. I have white polenta with three types of seafood, baccala - seasoned codfish; anchovies with onion, pine nuts and raisins; and tiny brown prawns: we have squid ink pasta and cime di rapa - a bitter green and more fritta mista.

And then we top the day off with a dusk gondola ride. As we go along, the lights of the houses start coming on and shimmering their colours magically onto the waters. Tomorrow we’re on the move again.

On our way to Lago di Garda

We’re back for a few days to sort out our visa. And what a kafuffle that is. Luckily the daughter’s Italian has improved after a week’s course, we needed it. Mine was relatively straightforward as I was renewing it but the daughter’s working holiday visa had them confused as they’d never heard of it. The daughter argued her way through it and eventually he went to look it up and found it. He was lovely after that but we were holding our breaths and then he saw our surname and we became instant friends. Everyone here seems to love a Vecellio surname, this policemen knew about the famous Renaissance painter Tiziano Vecellio and when we say we are linked with him, doors open. Then the daughter has to have her fingerprints taken but the wifi is down, so the police tell us to go and have a coffee and hopefully the internet will return and it does. We are done, celebrations! They will call us to pick up our visas at some time, hopefully before we return home! Things move slowly but surely here with a few coffee breaks and a spritz. We're beginning to understand the workings of the Italians.

Then the daughter’s partner arrives and we celebrate with a home cooked meal and a Negroni. The next day we head up to the fossil museum Dolomythos again where we have a platter of local cured meats and cheeses. Then we come upon a singing event with groups of women singing and dressed in traditional costumes with stalls selling beer and sausages. There is an Austrian feeling in the air as it’s on the border, the town having an Italian name and an Austrian one, San Candido and Innichen.

And then my partner and I are off again!

LAGO DI GARDA - SIRMIONE

We arrive at La Casa di Marla in Sirmione, on Lago di Garda and what a character is Marla and her beautiful rustic old stone house. She is a retired zookeeper, covered in tattoos and running her B&B with flair. Our rooms are beautiful, lace and interesting antiques cover the walls and when we open the shutters, four lots of swallows nests are perched in beams in the courtyard.

We head off to dinner in the heat and find Vecchio Mulino, a restaurant set in an old mill on the shores of the lake at Peschiera del Garda. I have a Limoncello spritz and they bring us a small loaf of bread, the recipe of which dates back to the 1800’s, the flour being milled here. In the 19th century, bread in this region was considered a luxury and only used for Christian holidays. The bread is amazing and served with the nutty green olive oil, the fritto misto is great as is the theatrical production of the creme brulee. But the waiter made the evening for us, welcoming and professional, he had worked in restaurants in Sydney for three years and knew more about our politics than most Australians.

We head back to a mattress situation - there are two and the second one doesn’t fit the bed, in fact it hangs over the sides and you end up on a slant in the middle of the night about to roll off so we drag it off and prop it up against the wall and finally sleep peacefully. The next day we head off to Sirmione, which boasts a rare example of a medieval port fortification, the Scaligero Castle.

We pass the lemonade stall which I remember as being there at least twenty years ago.Then we enter via one of two drawbridges over the moat. The water is crystal clear, with ducks nesting on floating wooden platforms. The town is already full of impressed tourists, us included. We think about walking to the Grottoes of Catullus but it’s too hot to walk there so

we end up taking a boat ride there which ended up being the perfect way to see the Roman villa built around the 1st century BC. It is one of the most exceptional finds of a Roman villa in northern Italy. It’s magnificent and the best way to see it in the heat is by water.

Then we have a perfect lunch - stuffed squid in a fava bean sauce which was delicious and stuffed zucchini flowers with a capsicum sauce and then back home to watch the swallows feeding their young and doing their swirling dances under the eaves.

That night we went to Desenzano del Garda where we ate seafood pasta and marvelled at the slow descent of night here, the pale salmon and pink colours on the horizon of blue.

Next day we go to the Parco Giardino Sigurta, a beautiful garden with questionable plastic sculptures throughout, made with recycled plastic but still a shock in this ancient garden setting. Again it’s suggested we get a golf buggy to go around as it is a huge acreage and having just read about the dangers of these vehicles, I’m not keen but then I decide to give it a go and at the speed we’re going, I think we’re safe.

From there, Marla suggests we go to visit Borghetto sul Mincio, one of the prettiest villages in Italy she tells us and she is right. It’s a beautiful little hamlet on a river that is crystal clear and full of water mills, where flour used to be ground. We find a restaurant right on the Mincio river and have amazing homemade rolls and wholemeal grissini flavoured with fennel and whilst waiting for our food, I spy an azure blue dragon-fly and then others, flitting in and around the water. The food is good, I have an asparagus torte which is delicate on a frothy parmesan sauce, then we have stracciatella with prawns and beautiful spicy olive oil and a brulee flavoured with lavender.

And then we’re in Lazise for dinner later that night, for a Limoncello spritz that arrives with so much free food! The town is surrounded by medieval fortress walls but we’re too tired to wander too much.

We stumble upon a restaurant that specialises in mussels and we’re in. The very beautiful hostess finds us a seat and her young son, probably aged nine or ten, very proudly escorts us to our seats, speaking English. This place is great, we’re given a bib (for the messy sport of eating mussels) and a menu that is like a newspaper and we order the fried mussels with a garlic sauce and then a huge bowl of them with different sauces, even a gorgonzola one. Walking back to the car, I see ammonites underfoot. It never ceases to amaze me that I'm walking on fossils.

Replete and exhausted, we head home. Tomorrow we’re on the move again after a lovely breakfast and photo call with Marla and a last look at the swallows.