Life is Beautiful Under the Tuscan Sun, by Guest Blogger Q

Our guest blogger...



 Life is beautiful under the Tuscan sun but since this trip of the honeymooners is called Cyclo Italia, it isn't all "Tea with Mussolini". We have visited a few amazing hilltop towns. One can definitely appreciate the protective advantage of building on top of high hills. The climb into each town is heart-poundingly draining in the afternoon sun. The quads scream at each pedal stroke. Dave wasn't kidding when he said climbing a hill with a loaded bike is like riding up it with Dony strapped to the rear rack. If Dave is carrying Dony, Amy said she felt like it was Tuttle weighing her down. And we all agreed that my rear rack had Adam G strapped to it.

The added weight really pushes the bike on the down hill, but as soon as the gradient changes, the bike loses all momentum. It starts to swerve left and right while you're rushing to shift into an appropriate gear. I believe Amy would describe my hill climbing with a loaded bike as watching Ali G staggering home after a night of hydration.
So we already had the "Weeee" shout for joy on the downhill. We now have a high pitch "Aghhhhh" when we come face to face with a steep ascent of unknown distance.

It has been my pleasure and honor to guest blog for this third leg of Amy and Dave's full moon. And speaking of third leg, it has been an amazing journey crashing their luna di miele. Our Italian is still bad, but our legs are definitely getting stronger.

La Dolce Vita, bici!

Q on his bici, Princess Porcini

“I Have a Vision!”

I looked back, and all I saw was an empty road… No Amy riding her bici Luigi, no Quang riding his bici Princess Porcini.  I pulled over in the searing mid-day sun, no shade in sight, straddling my bike to wait for them to appear on the horizon.  Nothing.  So I dismounted, stood beside Mario and drank some water, and waited.  Nothing.  So I sat, stretched my legs, pondered the meaning of life and waited.  Nothing. 

I was pretty sure that one of my artist companions had had another ‘vision’.  I’d ridden by some large hay rolls enticingly close to the side of the road, and I figured they would be too tempting for Quang and Amy to pass up.  But there was always a chance that someone had fallen, or had a mechanical problem, or – worse – some kind of more serious accident or injury.  So I turned Mario around, saddled up, and retraced my route.  Yep, about a kilometer and a half back… there was Quang, dancing on top of some hay, and there was Amy, camera in hand, directing this impromptu photo shoot. 



I knew the hay would prove to be too enticing...




Uh oh... someone had another 'vision'...



This time, apparently, it was Amy’s vision.  Quang and Amy take turns with their ‘artistic visions’.  They come with surprising frequency. 

Quang and Amy both have a lot of 'visions'...

We’ve taken a lot of beautiful photos on our three-part honeymoon.  And I admit:  Amy is definitely the driving force behind a lot of our photography.  I’ve gotten much better as we’ve gone along at remembering to capture some of our favorite moments, and Amy and I tend to complement each other well with the different kinds of shots we prefer.  I’m good with the sweeping landscapes and some of the angled architecture, and Amy’s really good with the detail shots, anything with our zoom lens, and our ‘artistic’ shots.  

But I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly apologize to my lovely wife… for I have apparently, unknowingly, unintentionally been stifling her creative genius and oppressing her artistic soul.

This only became clear to me after Q arrived. For those of you who don’t know Quang, he is – without exaggeration – a professional-class photographer.  Many of our favorite shots from our wedding are shots that Quang took as our unofficial second photographer.  He’s catalogued our various endurance athletic feats (and the training building up to them), and he’s just got a great photographic eye.

Apparently, as complete as our relationship often feels, I cannot be all things to my wife.  Amy needed the companionship of a fellow artist to really unleash her artistic potential.  Since Q’s arrival, Amy’s productivity as an artistic photographer has grown exponentially.  Whereas before we might have 20-25 nice photo-worthy moments in a day, now we have as many as 500 or more.  Whereas before we were content to take one or two shots of something we liked, now we take 20-30 shots, from every imaginable angle, with every possible configuration of camera settings.  Whereas before we might just shoot the scene as it appears, now we have full-on photo-shoots, where as subjects we are instructed to ‘do something interesting’.  

And yes, it is sometimes difficult to fit all those bike kilometers in between photo shoots. 


This is one of my favorite 'visions'...

 

This is how I prefer to pass the time while my artistic colleagues realize their creative potential...

Proof that not all artistic visions bear fruit...
I was told to 'do something' so Amy could capture my shadow...
Alas, no shadow.



And so, while I might cringe when I now hear those infamous words, “Wait, I have a vision”, from either of my artistic traveling companions… I will forever be grateful for all of those beautiful photos we have of our Luna de Miel con Amici. 

Ciao bicis!

Our favorite Italian vehicles...

Sunflowers...

Haayy...

Our favorite city, Pitigliano, by night...
And yes, this is the view from our B&B




 

A Perfect Day in Tuscany

It all started with Nutella.  Any day that starts with chocolate hazelnut smeared on fresh bread is bound to be a good one. 

From the Nutella we headed to the countryside.  The previous days of cycling out of Florence and into Central Tuscany had the back drop of rows and rows of ripening grapes as far as the eye can see.  The vineyards were only interrupted by little villages filled with old stone buildings.

Today, however, the landscape changed.  Today the vineyards were not only interrupted by historic villages but also by fields and fields of bright orange poppies and fields of fields of bright yellow sunflowers- thousands and thousands.  Big, huge smiles were inescapable. 


Happy sunflowers, with San Gimignano in the background...



From the fields we climbed atop impressive walled villages, San Gigmiano and Monte Reggio, to find a favorite lunch of ours- prosciutto and melone, followed by nothing other than a healthy portion of gelato.

It seemed oddly appropriate to park our bikes
in front of the Museum of Torture while we ate...

Today’s final destination was Agriturismo Agricola, a small farm and bed and breakfast just outside of Voltaire.  We were welcomed by Laura- a progressive farmer, baker, gardener, cook, and owner of the Agriturismo.  She showed us to our very own picturesque villa where we would spend the night and introduced us to her friend Maria Angela a feisty fellow farmer (they and three other women have a farm co-operative together- love them!). 

Is it too much for a girl to ask for her own Tuscan villa for her birthday?


We spent the evening cooking together- chicken cacciatore (meaning the hunter’s meal), with pasta and ragu (filled with fresh veggies from Laura’s garden), zucchini with garlic, and fresh yogurt with cherries for dessert.  We had a long, slow, wonderful meal- Italian style- on the terrace of our villa where the conversation moved from Italian culture, to Laura’s crazy neighbors, to problems with local hunters, to unpredictable Italian business hours, to Laura and Maria Angela’s hopes and dreams for their farms (hopefully we will help them come true by telling Lonely Planet what a great thing they have going).  The conversation, though, always seemed to wind back to the good food. 


The table was set for a wonderful dinner in Tuscany...



With ingredients like these, we couldn't go wrong...

The view from our villa...



It was one of those days you just didn’t want to end and feel so lucky to have had with company you feel lucky to know. It was, indeed, a perfect day in Tuscany. 

Ciao Bicis.

A Letter of Apology

A letter of apology...

Dear Residents of Siena, David, and Quang,

So. . . as we cycled through Siena on day 3 of our giro di luna di miele I didn’t do such a great job keeping up with my hourly food and drink intake.  This led me to . . .  BONK.  In other words, I crashed- both physically and mentally.  My body didn’t want to go anymore and my mind REALLY didn’t want to go anymore.  Somehow the Tuscan beauty turned ugly, the encouraging words from my cycling counterparts seemed irritating, and the drivers and pedestrians of Siena, frankly, just pissed me off.

So. . . I might have flipped a few people off (I’m now hoping the middle finger means something kind in Italian).  Sentences beginning with “What the. . . “ might have escaped my lips (hopefully those, too, got lost in translation).  I might have spoken sternly to my dear husband, insisting in a less than gracious tone that he “ JUST GO BY ME. . .please.”, when really he was being sweet by waiting.  I might have ignored my dear friend Q’s encouraging words and not joined in to his singing.  For all this. . .  I apologize.  It wasn’t you. It was me.

I am truly sorry and I promise to try very hard to eat and drink religiously through all rides forthcoming as to never again underappreciate the beauty around me and the good friends at my side. Please forgive me.

                                                                                                                            Sincerely,  Amy Kovick

AND NOW IN MY LIMITED ITALIAN

Citta' di Siena, David, Q,

               Scuuzi.

                                Amy Kovick

Shopkeepers of Tuscany: Beware!

They never know what has hit them. 

The tell-tale clicking and clacking of our approaching bike shoes should have been the first sign of warning.  They still have time to pretend their shops are closed. 

As we first come into view, poorly camouflaged with our multi-colored lycra and spandex, we should have given them reason to worry.  Still time to lock the doors. 

We greet them with our ‘ciao’s and ‘bongiorno’s and start to ask about the ingredients in some tasty-looking treat – compensating for our grammatically incorrect Italian with excessive pronunciation and flair.  This certainly should have prepared them for the cyclone that was about to hit them. 

But for some reason, they never see us coming, and before these poor shopkeepers know what has hit them, we’ve completely wiped out their cute little pastry shops, mini-markets, butcher and cheese shops, and breakfast restaurants – leaving a path of pure devastation in our wakes.


Yes, it takes a lot of fuel to get these three bodies and these three bicis, loaded down with all of our gear, up and down the hills of the Tuscan countryside.  And we approach the task of fueling these bodies with great gusto every morning… afternoon… and night… and in all the breaks in between.

The unsuspecting owner of this shop has no idea
what's about to happen to his cute little shop



We clean out these towns with the precision and coordination of a well-trained commando unit.  Our hauls are often impressive.  You never know what you might find, and you never know when you might find it again… so we operate under the unwritten rule of ‘grab it while you can’ – I’m sure we’ll find use for it later.


One morning's breakfast haul... in progress...
This photo taken before the butcher, cheese shop, mini-market,
and return trip to the baker for round 2 of croissants.



It starts with breakfast.  This is the one meal of the day that is not particularly kind to the gluten-intolerant Clydesdale among us…  But don’t worry.  His traveling companions more than compensate.  Q attacks the croissant counter – he and Amy will easily put down 5 fluffy pastries filled with some fresh fruity goodness between them, often wiping out the croissant supply in town.  Dave is at the coffee bar, ordering 2 capuccinos for himself and 1 for Amy.  If they have fresh-squeezed juice available, we’ll get 3 of those as well.  Amy is already thinking about lunch… she heads around the corner to the bakery, grabbing all the focaccia she can get her hands on… especially if it’s filled with prosciutto and cheese.  Dave has moved on to the local butcher and cheese shop, stockpiling an arsenal of chips, sliced meat and cheese for lunch.  Amy is now around the corner at the fruit vendor, relieving them of their supply of bananas and apples for our first snack of the day.  Quang is moving from shop to shop, emptying the drinks refrigerators of every Gatorade, energade, and powerade the town has to offer. 


Dave's always at home in the macelaria (butcher shop)



We pack up our loot and head onto the next town… where – after 10-20km and probably some serious sweat-inducing climbs, it’s time for a snack.  Yes, we have our snacks with us… but we must continue our reign of terror on the shop-keepers of Tuscany… and it never hurts to supplement your snack with something fresh and cold.  Quang is not afraid to tackle his first gelato of the day at 10:30 in the morning (how else can you have a 3-gelato day, unless you’re prepared to get an early start?).  Dave puts down his first refreshing cola of the day. 

Then we stop for lunch, and the cycle repeats… and afternoon snack, and the cycle repeats. 

Jackpot!  We stumbled across the only open store
in a tiny Tuscan village one silent Sunday afternoon,
and promptly relieved them of their supply of Magnum ice cream bars.

And then we finish cycling for the day, and it’s time for dinner… well, not exactly.  Italians don’t eat until 8 or 9pm.  We can maybe get by with a 7:45pm start… but any earlier than that and you are condemned to the ranks of ‘american tourists’.   So we pass the time with a light apertivo snack… maybe a platter of fresh meats and cheeses… or another piece of pizza… or another ice cream… or another sandwich… just a light snack to hold us off until dinner.

When dinner finally arrives, you’d think we would be pretty full already… but we start with an appetizer, then a pasta dish, then a main course, and finish it all off with a panna cotta.  Of course, when I say ‘finish it all off’, I only mean until we pass the gelato shop on the way back to the hotel, where we have a night-cap of hand-made gelato before bed… only to wake up hungry and ready to do it all over again.

So, shop-keepers of Tuscany, consider this fair warning.  We’re coming soon to a town near you… and when we’ve left, we’ll have taken all of your food with us.

 Ciao, bicis!

Luna de Miel con Amici!

We headed to Florence filled with anticipation for the arrival of our dear friend Quang, whom we’d convinced to take a few weeks of vacation to join us for the last few weeks of our honeymoon.  For those of you who might be thinking that it’s not particularly normal to invite friends on your honeymoon, we have two replies.  First, this is clearly no ordinary honeymoon.  Second, you clearly don’t know our friend Quang.  When you honeymoon for 6 months, there’s always time for some special guest appearances, and a little dash of Q in our lives just always seems to brighten the day.  We also tend to spontaneously break into song a lot more frequently. 

It has created a little bit of confusion among some of the Italians we meet along the way… It’s hard enough to break through the language barrier, without trying to explain how it is our honeymoon, but there are three of us.  There was one particularly confused Italian, for whom I had to clarify that when I said ‘we were married in October’, I meant just Amy and I, not all three of us).  So we’ve taken to calling this portion of the honeymoon our ‘luna de miel con amici’, and that seems to sort things out.  And if that fails, we just tell people that Quang is our adopted child.

We woke up that morning in Spezia knowing that our rendezvous with Q was only a few short hours and a few short train rides away in Firenze (that’s Italian for Florence), until we looked at our phone and saw 6 text messages from Q, each one updating us on the status of his eventually cancelled flight.  (The last was a photo of Q having dinner with the Lufthansa gate agents in their employee dining area… Only Q could end up in that kind of situation.).  So we decided to take our time getting to Florence, and distracted ourselves with all the tourists posing as if they were holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa. 


Which is more exciting... this tower?...



Or all the tourists posing
 as if they are holding it up?



In Florence, we decided to take the more challenging urban route to our adorable little bed and breakfast.  The house was a working farm back in the day, located just outside all of the hubbub of downtown Florence, connected by a beautiful, serene 4km bikepath along the river Arno.  Of course, we only learned about the bike path after our harrowing and less-than-direct route through the traffic of Firenze.  Our hosts Stefania and Mario were as welcoming as they could possibly be – arranging bus/tram tickets for us, doing our laundry so we could enjoy the city instead of wasting our day at the Laundromat, and even giving us a ride to the airport to meet Q when he eventually arrived.  Almost certainly our favorite inn from the entire full-moon (except for Dougie, of course). 

We were so saddened by Q’s delayed arrival that we had to drown our sorrows in one of the finest meals we’ve had on the full moon.  The Lonely Planet never steers us wrong with its recommendations.  This was a meal the Fong’s would definitely have been proud of.  Of course, we started with our favorite appetizer, prosciutto con melone, which has taken a slight lead in the competition with gelato to see which food we eat the most of during our time in Italy.  Amy chose the raviolis with black truffle for her primi piatti (the pasta dish) – a specialty of the region – which melted in her mouth and caused her eyes to roll back in her head a few times.  My filleto steak was pretty outsanding for the secondi piatti… but not as good as the heavenly panna cotta I had for dessert, which for some reason, required me to close my eyes as a I savored each spoonful.   


Oh Prosciutto!  What kind of cruel religion could make you forbidden???








Potato Ravioli with Black Truffle...
Not sure this one will ever be topped.

The next day, Q’s plane finally arrived…


Yes... we were excited...



Bongiorno, Q!  Italia has no idea what it's in for!

And for some reason, every photo we’ve taken since then has seemed more ‘blog-worthy’ than the last.



Arm thing!  Arm thing!  Arm thing!



As many of you know, it usually takes 2 sips
for Amy to start getting silly...
You should have seen her
after she downed this whole bottle!



Yep... something about being around Q...



We picked up his bici in a little town outside of Firenze called Tavarnuzze, and headed south along the Chianti Classic route, through the heart of Tuscany, towards Greve-in-Chianti and Siena… where more crazy hyjinx await…

Until then, Ciao Bicis… from the Luna de Miel con Amici!














No to the Double-Whammy... but Double Gelato? Siempre Si!

Even though we came out on top in our quest to conquer the Alps, we weren’t quite ready for any more mountains just yet.  Originally we planned on doing what we called the Double Whammy - The Glory of the Alps followed by Mountains of the Riviera… but our achy legs got the best of us and we decided no double whammy this time.

Instead, we thought we would spend some time on the coast visiting Cinque Terra (don’t worry:  still many hills included).  We had heard great  about these five little villages tucked into some rugged Italian coastline (thanks Reaveys!).  

We left our aforementioned campsite early in the morning- feeling no need to stick around to enjoy the sights, and headed to Levanto, the gateway to Cinque Terra.  It wasn’t exactly an Alp, but still a good continuous climb for an hour or so.  And it was definitely nice to be able to go one or two more kilometers/hour faster than the previous days. It felt less likely we would roll back down to Sestre Levante.  We shared the climb with lots of fellow ciclistas, all of whom were (1) looking super-sporty in their matching lycra outfits, (2) were super-friendly with their ‘ciao!’s, ‘forza!’s, and ‘vai!’s, (3) none of whom were lugging all of their earthly possessions with them, and (4) all of whom made us feel like we were standing still as we headed up the mountain. 

We were so excited to arrive in Levanto at a decent hour – around 1pm.  Over lunch we planned a relaxing afternoon- drop our things at a hotel (NO MORE CAMPING!), do some laundry, beach time. . . Unfortunately, we hadn’t plan on all of Italy joining our full-moon at this time. Little did we know school was out, and vacation for Italians had begun… and of course, what better place to welcome the Italian summer than Levanto?  Our relaxing afternoon turned into an afternoon-long search for a place to call home for the night. 




Amy can't get enough of the narrow Italian streets...



We bought some prosciutto i formaggio for lunch
from an adorable couple that runs this shop.

The tourist office had just closed for lunch, and so we cycled around town, checking in on no less than 10 B&B’s, all of whom were ‘completo’ (full for the night)… and ror a minute there, it was looking like we might have no choice but to camp again. (Nooooooo!).   Luckily one last stop at a hotel saved us.  It was a little pricier than we like but we made sure to get our money’s worth- milking it for every drop of hot water and every free minute of Wi-Fi we possibly could. 

Once we were settled we walked the streets of Levanto, grabbed some dinner, and a gelato. 

And then another gelato. 

We recently told you  about some of the lessons we’ve been learning on this full moon that we think will help us in our married life (Lesson #1:  Don’t try to guess what your person is thinking, or you might end up camping in a junkyard).  Well, we’ve also learned that sometimes, you have to be a big enough person to admit when you’ve been wrong.  And there’s no way around it… on this night, we were wrong. 

We settled far too quickly on the first gelato that crossed our path, and although it was certainly enjoyable, it did not look nearly as appetizing as the over-flowing cornucopia of creamy and delicious goodness that appeared in the window of the next gelateria, just as we were finishing our last bites.  Thus was unanimously enacted a new Kovick rule: only buy gelato when it is overflowing out of it's containers and you can see the individual braids from the hand-whipping.

And the second new Kovick rule of the night: there’s nothing wrong with a double-gelato evening! (also unanimous). 

From there, with our full stomachs, we cycled along the coast with sweeping views of the colorful little towns that make up Cinque Terra. Initially, we had big plans to visit all 5 of the towns of Cinque Terra.  But you see, you cycle along a ridge-top road, and then have to descend many kilometers to these charming seaside villages, and then climb back up each and every one of those kilometers to get back to the ridge road.  So we started by saying we'd visit all 5 towns... then 20 minutes into the first climb, we said we'd visit 4 towns... then, as we continued to climb, it was down to 3 towns, then 2, then eventually just the 1.  But they were so much more beautiful from up above at a distance!  Anyway, Cinque Terra was the beautiful.  But I’m sleepy... so we'll let the pictures speak for themselves. The End, by Amy Kovick. 

Ciao bicis!



A view of Cinque Terra



More narrow Italian side streets...


 

One of the five towns of Cinque Terra... Much prettier from above



The one town we ended up visiting in Cinque Terra