Alex and I are roused from our nap by the arrival of Donna and Rick, who have driven the five or so kilometers from their "new" home in Santa Maria, a town whose population dwarfs that of Borseda by at least 150, to pick us up. Donna Polseno is Rick's wife, an incredible ceramicist, and a dear friend of Alex's from art school. In fact, the three of them were housemates back in the day. Though I've been with Alex for over six years, I suddenly feel awkward, like an outsider. However, Donna and Rick could not have been more gracious and kind in sharing their Italy with us, and for this I'm feeling incredibly blessed.
In a nutshell, Santa Maria is an incredibly charming town--much more so than Borseda--which can be attributed to the life-loving people who welcome Donna and Rick with open arms, despite great language barriers. Their neighbors leave them sweet treats and potted flowers along their walkway, perhaps as housewarming gifts.Then there's Bruno and Bruna, who own the inn/restaurant/grocery store/bar along the town's main stretch. We stop to have an espresso and to meet Bruno, who is an aging but not unattractive gentleman, perhaps in his 60s. He speaks not a word of English, and I not a word of Italian. Bruno fills us a few bottles of the house red while we drink our espressos. We make a dinner reservation for the following night, and we head back up the hill to prepare dinner.
We eat on the terrace, which provides for the most splendid view in all of Santa Maria. Dinner is simple but delicious, as is the wine. In Italy, dining is an affair done with friends and family. It is not rushed. There is not much to say about the food itself this evening, but the company was wonderful. We stay outside enjoying the sky as it changes from golden to turquoise to indigo. I drink more freely here than I do at home. Perhaps this is because in Italy there is no stigma attached to the second or even third glass, so long as it is in some way connected to food. Italians aren't worried about looking like lushes in this way, and I can't help but wonder if their healthier relationship with wine--how and when they drink it--could teach us Puritanical Americans a thing or two.
It's late and we're totally bushed, so we navigate the windy mountain roads back to Borseda. Tomorrow, Alex has promised to help Rick buy and install a water heater, and Donna and I have plans to visit Carlo just down the road.
Buona sera!
Buona sera!
Alex, Donna, and Rick in La Spezia
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