Author: leanagallagher

What can I say? I’m a New Englander. So what did we do today in the vast West? We visited museums and a university .

We got up early and headed to breakfast – decided to try a new place, but we were clearly unwelcome (Brad said it looked like a Maga convention), so we skipped the fisheye and headed back to Jams again where all are welcome. The difference in the vibe was palpable. We were greeted with “you look familiar” and ate a delicious breakfast.

Fortified, we went for a dip in the rooftop pool and contemplated the mountains, then headed to the Gallatin County Museum and encountered the delightful Marquetta who thoughtfully showed us around.

Can’t begin to tell you how great and informative this museum was – the old 1911 jail houses the museum (it was a county jail till 1982!), and it was exquisitely laid out with so many interesting exhibits. We chatted and researched and pondered and asked more questions. Such a wonderful resource, and all privately funded.

From medical practices to robbers and murderers to high school photos and ways of life, this place was a repository of the county’s history set up in an enchanting way. The best tidbit was the story of our little known history hero, Albert Gallatin, who I will be researching tonight.

After an architectural tour of the town, spurred on by a conversation with Marquetta, we fell in love with Fred Willson, another unsung hero. Here are a couple of of his varied designs.

Then off to the Museum of the Rockies, which was heavily dinosaur focused. Really amazing digs in the area and interactively displayed with the scientists explaining how they date and assemble the fossils.

An old water wagon, a bison, an old farm reassembled — just a great museum.

Oh, and let’s not forget the trappers! Look what we found in the furrier section

Then off to Montana State University because Brad and I cannot ever pass up a college tour. All those smart kids give us hope for the future.

The college is mostly a very modern campus, but it was an original land grant college and the early buildings are still in tact. We chatted with the Voter registration volunteers, the art students who had an exhibit about their year in Siracusa, Sicily, and the lovely admissions officer who loaded us up with swag. Mountains and Minds is their logo.

We drove east to see a cute little town called Livingston – probably what Bozeman was like 20 years ago. We wandered into a community restaurant, chatted with locals and just soaked it all in.

A little quiet time and a shower were needed, then we headed downstairs for the lobby cocktail hour. Tonight we met a Roman interior designer and his art curator wife and her parents who were touring the area because of friends that owned a local business. We had just met the friends the day before, so we got into conversations about the Hudson Valley (where they live), Italian cinema (I need to see Una Giornata Particolare), the merits of the Dolomites and reclaimed wood in construction (Bozeman is the Epicenter).

We each headed to our respective restaurants. Tonight was Fresco. We sat at the bar and chatted with Michelle who has travelled all over the world as a chef, did a stint in hell for some wealthy families in Big Sky, and gave us a good look at the social network and politics of Gallatin county. A good dinner, but better conversation.

Another full day under our belts. We meet our group tomorrow. I can only hope they are as interesting as the chance encounters we’ve had.

We’ve acclimated to the time and slept really soundly, and Brad is big on breakfast, so we headed to a nearby restaurant called Jams. It was everything you’d want in a breakfast place – great food, sassy tattooed waitresses, and interesting eavesdropping at nearby tables. Sort of reminded us of the Friendly Toast.

Brad was feeling adventurous and order hash (excellent) and I had arugula with a perfectly poached egg. Coffee in both our room and restaurant left something to be desired, so we will try one of the million coffee shops tomorrow.

We walked around the downtown to get our bearings, and ended up in a fantastic bookstore. Huge and well curated selection, and busy first thing in the morning.

We decided to go see Big Sky. No idea what to expect, but we’ve all heard the name bantered around, right? An hour’s drive along the Gallatin River into the small town of Big Sky, only to find out that the Big Sky Resort is much further up a long, narrow, winding road. The Yellowstone Club beyond that in another direction. Lots of ‘Members Only’, ‘No Admittance’ signs, coupled with large gravel filled trucks struggling up hill while our ears were popping and we aborted.

One cute story, we pulled over at a turnout to have a quiet look at the mountains, and a tricked out red Jeep pulled in and flew down what looked like the edge of the mountain. It just disappeared into the woods. On further inspection, there was a path in the woods, but tiny, bumpy and with knee high grass. Where that car was going is a mystery.

We did see lots of fly fishermen in the river along with some rafts. It was a sweet excursion, but I was happy to get back to civilization.

We stopped at the local food coop for lunch. It smelled like an old Erewhon store. Very hippie.

Because we got skunked at Big Sky, we took a short hike in a local park that had beautiful views and linked us to the library.

The library was amazing! Gorgeous and creative. Artwork, reading lounges, a 3D printer, craft room and a cool program for kids to do a tasting of sweet and sour. We hung and perused and chatted with the librarians.

We didn’t realize it but we were walking on the Gallagator Trail!

On the way back, we saw a tight rope set up about 4 feet off the ground between two huge trees – what a fun activity!

Jet lag, heat, windy mountain roads all caught up with us, and we crashed for a few hours. Dinner was at a sweet restaurant called Blackbird, we walked around the town, met some shop keepers and finished with ice cream. Here are some shots of the town.

A couple of observations about Bozeman; most restaurant and shop employees are women. Tattoos are ubiquitous. Everyone dresses casually, but men make a sport of it. Has to be the worse dressed men I’ve ever seen – rumpled is an art form, and ugly shoes prevail. On the bright side, many elderly people seem vibrant and ambulatory. It is a good mix of young and old, and everyone seems to be happy (and poorly dressed).

So, I’m confirming my status as a New Englander. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

We are heading to Yellowstone National Park this morning, and we think we’ve packed correctly. We’ll soon find out — mountain people, we are not.

Couldn’t find a limo company to take us and bring us (our usual is out of business, and one never called back), so we took Ruby and scored a parking spot in the B garage at Logan, adjacent to our airline for a reasonable price. All systems go,

2 hours to Logan, late for the plane and no signs directing us to B garage. Three frantic trips around the airport, one stop inside to ask, and finally the entrance. Then it turned around – United Airlines staff took our bags, no line at TSA, and onto the plane and first for take off. We may have spent 15 minutes inside the airport.

Enough time in Denver to have a lovely lunch at the Centurion Lounge, which never disappoints. Do you know this entrance wall has 780 live plants? It’s such a soothing place. Off to Bozeman.

Nicest airport I’ve ever been in. Gorgeous wood, fireplaces, stone and views of the mountains. Our bags got routed through Chicago and would arrive later tonight. Again, a lovely UA rep helped us get the bags delivered and we got our car and we’re off.

Scenic 20 minute drive to the Kimpton Armory hotel in downtown Bozeman. The downtown is surrounded by bucolic neighborhoods full of craftsman bungalows. Easy parking, gracious welcome, and comfortable digs. Kimpton has a cocktail hour each day, and we sat next to an unassuming couple from Colorado who turned out to be so interesting and intelligent. Had an hour long discussion about art, politics, music, wolves, invasive trout and travel while sipping rhubarb smashes. Welcome to the West!

There is a lovely rooftop pool at the hotel, and we decided to take a dip. Met a mother and daughter (Seattle and Bozeman) who were also lovely and a delight to talk to. Mom was an eye surgeon, so the conversation skewed toward healthcare. Such terrific chance encounters.

At the suggestion of the Colorado couple, we ate in the hotel. Great meal with super staff. Our waitress was from Las Vegas and was hip and chic and pleasant, and as the night was slow, the chef came out and chatted and recommended. Brad had steak and salad with blue cheese mashed potatoes (terrific salad with handfuls of herbs and roasted fennel), and I tried the the stuffed egg with trout roe, the bison meatball with whipped feta, the bok choy in coconut milk and a spicy Cesar salad. Brad finished with a blueberry pavlova. Lovely.

Bags arrived, sleep came quickly.

Venice is just a treasure trove of beauty. The city itself is amazing, the buildings are in a state of elegant decay, the carvings, the bridges, the canals, the light, but the artwork….. overwhelming. You need weeks here, not days.

Far from perfect, the centuries have taken their toll, but the beauty is beguiling. I can’t imagine what it was like when it was all fresh and new.

We spent the day with Antonella, a certified historical guide that Michele, the concierge, arranged for us. Michele left the Gritti Palace to come work here. Tomasso, his associate, left the Cipriani when the French bought it. The team here is first rate. I don’t think I showed you the lobby – it’s on the third floor, in Venetian style.

The hotel was the former stock exchange for Venice. The building had been empty for at least 20 years when the exchange moved to the mainland. On our extensive walk around the city, we saw the original Merchant Exchange and the first bank. Dating back to the 12th century.

We learned about the Republic of Venezia, the Doges, the Senators, the Noble families and progressive style of governing Venice enjoyed. It’s heyday were the 1500’s, when it was the Merchant of the World. Women could inherit property and money; doweries could be revoked for bad treatment of the women; women could run businesses; and the Republic’s laws were made by a group of 400 with equal votes.

Books were treasured and the most extensive private library was opened to the public 2 days a week and left to the state upon the owner’s death. The printing press was adopted early, and the law ensured that for every book that was printed here, one volume went to the library. The library currently holds over 1 million volumes.

The Correr museum is attached to the library and we spent the better part of an hour visiting the rooms and learning the twists and turns of Venetian history. The building originally housed the State offices; then Napoleon came in and redecorated badly, razing buildings; then the Hapsburgs came in and glitzed things up until the First World War. Each left their mark.

Each room was dazzling, the history fascinating, and scope of it was insane. And this was one museum. We never saw the church or the Palazzo Ducal. We were exhausted by the beauty.

An interesting thing, Venice exhibits modern art within these museums as special exhibitions. We saw a mountain of coal, large canvases with one color of paint, etc. the juxtaposition does make you wonder about modern art.

Each medallion on the ceiling was done by a different artist, and each represents a different form of thought. Now look at the solid color art on the left wall from the new exhibition. Very different.

We walked through the throngs of humanity, over the Rialto bridge into San Polo. We saw the local people and artisans on small little alleys that you would never find. Leather crafters, glass blowers, paper makers, and fabric designers. Rubelli fabrics was my favorite. No pictures, sorry.

The Scuola Grande di San Rocco, was the reason I wanted to come to San Polo, but we were just spent. Here’s the building and the sign for the exhibit – we never ventured inside.

It was 2:00 and time for lunch and a seat!

We found a quiet restaurant and sat and talked and laughed and had a macchiato. Antonella left us and we headed to the Guggenheim. By the time we got there, we decided we just needed to go home, so we turned around and headed for our luxurious bed. I know, I can’t waste time in stores shopping, but I can take a bath mid day.

By the way, I wanted you to see the size of the doors. Leather on one side, wood on the other.

We ordered ice, made Negroni’s and ate our little bread snacks in bed.

At 7:00 PM we decided a dip in the rooftop pool might revive us.

Part hydro massage, part pool, it was lovely and refreshing, and off we go on our last night.

One more mission – I doused myself in the last of Chazy’s parfum and decided to leave the bottle in Venice. Where else but Harry’s bar on the grand canal. I found a little place in a window well by the front door that looked like it might not be noticed for years.

We sat at the minuscule bar, feeling very sophisticated and in walks this very drunk, elegantly attired young, handsome American. He started a scene and the manager gallantly tried to subdue him and finally, uno, due tre, three bartenders and the manager opened the front door and hauled him out! In seconds. Quite a scene, and a lovely story, worthy of the $22 glass of Punt e Mes and soda.

I love these tiled advertisements in the sidewalks. A newer part of Venice’s history. No one will know what these businesses were 50 years from now.

We’re ready to go home. I ordered a salad and Brad order lasagne for dinner at a little joint. We are sated and overwhelmed. You could spend two weeks here to just see the art. It’s a place we should come back to. Thank God Delta has non stop flights.

Arrivederci.

We woke up in the Emilian countryside to birds singing and fog along the forest around us. We ate and drank far too much last night, but it was a lovely memory.

We were abstemious at breakfast – no zabaglione on the cotechino. The food is luscious, but we’d had enough of it. As we were leaving, Charlie Bottura came in. He’s as adorable as he was on the Instagram show.

Off to Venezia! we dropped the car and hired a boat to take us into the city. Brad loved it.

The Pope was just here a few hours ago, it was the end of a long weekend, so Venice was hopping and the ride was sort of like dodgems.

The boatman rang our hotel, and a team met us at the dock to escort us to the hotel, 3 minutes away. I sort of felt like the Pope. Another hotel with a deceiving entrance.

Oh, and did I mention the bathroom with the radiant heat floor and towel warmers and heated toilet seat?

Scored once again.

We took a walk and I’m not much of a shopper, but there are some lovely, unique stores. I truly wish I had Cathryn’s genes right now, but I can’t seem to fritter away the day in a store.

We took full advantage of the complimentary bar and made Negroni’s in our suite. Massimo’s record collection inspired us, so we connected the Bang and Oleufson system and played a little jazz.

We asked about a gondola ride and Philipo arranged for one. As we dressed for the evening out, I remembered that I brought a bit of Chazy with me. She came to Venice on her 30th birthday and I still have the picture of her on a gondola that she framed and took with her for the next 40 years. There is one last drop of her favorite perfume, Quadrille, by Balanciaga, and I brought it with me and put it on.

Philipo escorted us to the gondolier, Alviso. Quiet magical night.

Dinner reservations were at the fine dining room at the hotel. We were seated and the menus presented….. 8 course tasting menu. No way. We couldn’t do another night like that. They graciously escorted us to the Cafe, where we ate a lovely, light meal (for Italians)

A walk around the piazza at night and it brings us right up till midnight. Snuggled in my warm robe and slippers while I write this and Brad sleeps soundly. I met Brad in 1986 – 38 years ago. We spent 8 hours a day together for 13 years and have been a couple for 25 more. A lifetime, if you’re lucky.

Noi siamo fortunati.

We hit some high notes for each of us today.

First of all, Casa Maria Luigia is really special. The beds are perfect, the linens are pressed crisp, the pillows are soft, the bathroom is grand. Secondly, all the common rooms are decorated exquisitely, and you are encouraged to hang in them. Have a drink, play a record, read a book, enjoy the original art…

Breakfast is elegant, decadent and convivial. You sit at communal tables, you mingle with guests, the staff keep bringing you gorgeous plates of delicacies and the room is filled with windows and light.

This breakfast is featured in the latest cookbook, and I’ve made most of it, but it was better here and I got some pointers. The cotechino with zabaglione and balsamico was a highlight.

We travelled to Maranello to see the Ferrari museum. It was a madhouse!

We had tickets, but still – it took an hour to get in, and you guessed it, parking was a chore.

However,

Most of the visitors were Italian, and they love their cars. I read a lot of history about the company, and I practiced reading in Italian.

Once we saw every single car in the museum and read about their horsepower, drivetrain and wheel base, we left for…

The Enzo Ferrari Museum in Modena.

This was a much saner experience and an elegantly laid out museum (and we got a parking spot!). Special cars displayed as works of art and a well done documentary on Enzo Ferrari.

Yes, I was tired of taking pictures of cars.

Back to the casa and a little rest and some music. I’m loving the turntable in the room and all the records.

We had an aperitivo with the lovely Valentina, chatted with a guest, and headed over to Al Gatto Verde for dinner.

Before I bore you with every course of dinner, the ladies room is in the Bottura’s gym and car collection:

The artwork everywhere is truly amazing. The whole complex is like your best dream.

Dinner was exceptional in every way. Food, service, ambiance, pacing – just perfection. Chef Jessica Rosval was in the kitchen tonight and we got to say hello. She’s been part of the team for years and is a real advocate for underprivileged women and trains them in food service jobs. And boy can she cook!

Oh, and a really good Sangiovese.

Slow food and fast cars. What a day.

We walked back through the manicured grounds — birds chirping, dogs in the distance, cool breeze and gravel crunching under our heels. We won’t forget this night.

Sogni d’oro.

I slept deeply for the first time this trip in Verona. I love this place and we’ll be back. Breakfast was a joy and Naima, at Il Relais, truly made us feel special. I can’t wait to come back – maybe opera season? Are you listening Carleen? This could be fun.

We left with a wonderful feeling and headed towards Parma to eat the cheese and prosciutto and see the Duomo before heading to Casa Maria Luigia in Modena. The usual traffic nonsense on the autostrada frustration of where to park in Parma, but we took it in stride.

We only spent a few hours in Parma, a lovely city, but I’m not feeling any great rush at going back. Beautiful and easy to get around, but no place to linger. The Duomo was amazing. It looks ho hum on the outside, but inside, it’s overwhelmingly beautiful. You could spend a full day just there, and I think we spent at least an hour – that’s saying something for us. Each nave was done by different artists in totally different styles. This is going to sound crazy, but they reminded me of Bergdorf’s windows at Christmas — each one totally different and equally special. Amazing to think about how it was constructed and how each artist was selected.

We had a light lunch at a joint in the piazza — nothing special, but just a lovely afternoon with delicious charcuterie. The culotello makes prosciutto seem like deli ham.

Finally the trip to Modena to Casa Maria Luigia — we planned our trip around the dates they were available. A magical spot with magical staff. What started as a pipe dream during Covid with a daily Instagram show with Massimo Bottura and family called Kitchen Quarantine and twice weekly Zoom Italian lessons, had finally materialized as a dream come true. As we were driving here, my two friends from my Italian class wrote that they are both in Italy and we should extend our stay and see them. Kismet? I may try. Your thoughts?

Really gorgeous grounds. Super primo Italian country house. Our penthouse suite is transportive. Two floors, a third floor cupola and a small terrace. A killer sound system with 50 vinyl records spanning decades of music, a TV room, giant bath and modern works of art in a perfectly minimalist setting. Snacks and robes and slippers – heaven.

So far we’ve played ‘60’s jazz, Sade, Sarah Vaughan, David Bowie, and Elvis is next.

After a stroll we headed to the Acetaia (vinegar distillery) on the grounds to see how traditional balsamico is made. Carolina told us about the process – Trebbiano Spania grapes are harvested, crushed and cooked down to “must”. Then it’s fermented until the alcohol leaves in steel vats, then put into old wooden barrels , much like Scotch whiskey and it’s left to age for a year or so. Then it is transferred to another set of old barrels in the attic of the Acetaia to breathe the air and moisture for up to 25 years. Quite a project!

There was a tasting and some mingling with the other guests and we conversed with these two lovely young people (30 maybe?). It warms my heart to know there are 30 year olds who care enough about culture to go to a vinegar tasting and have dinner here. But guess what? They are from Jacksonville, FL!!! The world is a small place.

We spent aperitivo hour with Valentina in the public rooms while she made us drinks. Brad had Franciacorta (officially widely taste tested on this trip as better then Prosecco – sorry Giulio), and I tried a Negroni with a vinegar instead of Campari — a Vingroni?? She is a world traveller and wants to pursue setting up culinary and cultural travel itineraries (another cool 30 year old) – Raluca, she’s going to call you.

We rested for a bit and then dressed to go out and try a little local restaurant that the Botturas eat at called La Nunziadenia. As we were leaving the property, I heard this voice….

Massimo!!!!

Just home from India where they fund a program to feed children, and we caught him for the few minutes he was on property. He was gracious and warm and Brad told him a story about making tortellini, we laughed and he let us have a photo.

Dear Lord.

Off to Nunziadiena and dinner cooked in traditional ways. Brad had veal, I had lamb, we shared tortellini in brodo and drank a lovely local Lambrusco. To navigate the menu, Alessandra was called from the kitchen to help us with what Faraona was (Guinea Fowl), and we struck up a lovely conversation with yet one more interesting 30 year old. A San Francisco native, who moved first to Spain, then here to hone her cooking skills. She’s met a boy, she’s bought a house, and she’s like family at La Nunziadiena.

Back at Casa Maria Luigia – a house made amaretto and a few cookies in the library before trotting upstairs to bed. What a day. Everything I could have wished for.

As we drove west from Asolo this morning, we (Brad) noticed that all the factories had no cars is the lots.

When we got to Verona there were hundreds of Italians in the streets. It was a madhouse here and we couldn’t figure out why until we asked our waiter — I had totally forgotten that April 25 is a national holiday here. Wow! They take it seriously.

First of all, the sun finally showed itself this morning – glorious!

Our drive was not without a large traffic jam and a re routing, but we made it to Verona by noon. We got into the city center and couldn’t find the hotel, and this is why – here’s the entrance:

I got queasy – what had I done?? Then this:

The kids are alright. Thank you Giulio for the recommendation!

Overlooking the castle, we have a prime spot and a luxurious room in this most beautiful city. We are still in the Veneto region (thought we had left for Lombardia), but it feels different. It almost feels a bit Swiss. Elegant piazzas, hundreds of little streets with tumbling greenery and magnificent doors, palazzos converted into condos, but still looking regal, just an elegance about the place. The River Adige runs around the city and its walkways are lined with linden trees. There is a sophistication about the city. This feels like a city I could live in – it has a manageable scale and a bit of everything.

There is an ancient coliseum-like arena in the center of town where operas are performed, a number of amazing churches and public buildings and of course, Juliet’s balcony. There was too much to take in, and I got tired of taking photos and just drank it all in. Here are a few:

And then there was lunch. By far the best pasta we have ever eaten with superior wine. 4 Cuochi is a must in Verona.

Nothing makes me happier.

A good long walk and an afternoon nap got us to 7:00 PM. Time to step out for an aperitivo. The city was bathed in light, what my friend, Amanda, calls magic hour.

It was just so otherworldly. There’s a large wall that surrounds the town and everyone was eating at the outdoor cafes, and the young kids were traveling in beautiful packs, and we were surrounded by magic.

The restaurants were heaving, so we got off the main thoroughfare and found this little gem.

There was no room for us, but it was such a special place tucked into an alley.

We walked a bit more and ambled up to the restaurant in our hotel called Locanda Castelvecchio. It’s a very old building that used to be a Salumeria. It has been a restaurant for 44 years and serves a traditional Veronese specialty of roasted meats and boiled vegetables. I know, doesn’t sound great, but so delicious!

So there was veal breast, roasted beef, steamed ham, tongue brisket, steamed tongue, roasted pork, boiled neck, and cotechino. Boiled onions, carrots and fennel as well as parsley sauce, apple mostarda with pomegranate, and a pepper bread sauce. Of course I tried it all. Everything was expertly done and bursting with flavor, but the cotechino was other worldly. Brad opted for fresh pasta with a trio of sauces he concocted on his own.

Then there was a dessert trolley with a pandoro bread pudding, zuppa inglese, tiramisù, gelato and chocolate sauce, two kinds of candied cherries and crème anglaise. We passed on all of that – the meal was totally filling, but it was a great show to watch them prepare the desserts.

A guest we met at the hotel ambled in and she joined us for an amaro. We talked and laughed until 11:00.

We’re snuggled back in our lovely room wishing we had more days in Verona. I could live here for sure – it’s nice to dream.

The weather has not broken, actually more cold rain today, but when you have lemons, you make lemonade. Cappuccino in bed while Brad had his American breakfast and read the NYTimes in the lovely garden room.

We’ve not really explored the property because of the rain, but the Villa is well sited with lovely gardens and three terraces leading to an infinity pool overlooking the valley. The hotel rambles on in a hidden way. Guests approach the breakfast room from all parts of the garden where their rooms are nestled. The town of Asolo is the same way, it looks unassuming and tiny, and every corner is another area to explore.

The roads are so narrow and ancient that we are always sure they are one way, then a Fiat comes roaring by from the opposite direction.

And there are truly lovely art galleries, and textile weavers, and cafes jewelers and $900 loafers in many windows.

We decided to take a drive, hoping that the rain would stop, so we went into Treviso today. This is the Commune capital and has a university and many museums. The River Sile rings the city and has lovely walkways and even boat rides along it.

We went to two of the Civic Museums, Museo Bailo, 20th Century works and sculpture by Arturo Martini and then to the Museo Santa Caterina, which was extensive and creatively displayed.

We were the only folks in the place and got to take our time and be silent with the art.

The day wasn’t without its share of frustrations. The art galleries have no parking lots (Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore). This is an ancient city – every inch is built on in stone. We hadn’t anticipated this, so we drove and drove to find a place to put the car, and then….. the car wouldn’t start again. “No key found”.

Call Hertz – no English representatives, wait for a call back, still not good English, wait some more. It finally started, but when we did get an English rep, our choices were to be towed or once we got it started to drive back to Venice for a replacement car. We are keeping the car and have decided it was an isolated incident.

This is an ugly picture, but this is what I mean about no place to park anything. The crane is INSIDE THE BUILDING and the roof is opened to let it out. No place to put a crane!

We made it home, a little rattled (exquisite pizza for lunch helped calm us), and decided to spend the day at the Centro Benessere – Wellness Center. You reserve it just for the two of you and Svetlana massages you (while schooling you on Ukrainian politics) then you have the steam, sauna and rainfall showers to yourself. No pictures, but you get the drift.

A lovely conversation with our bartender and waiter from Abruzzi and the Ivory Coast, and a light dinner and off to bed. We discussed Rocky Marciano, the Siena Palio and the 72 languages spoken in the Ivory Coast. What a treasure trove of employees this place has!

I will never call red cabbage anything but Cavolo Violetta again!

Off to Verona in the morning. Our host there just wrote to confirm everything and with “I remain in your service, madam”. I love Italy.

We slept long and hard and woke up to another day of “fa brutto tempo”. Unseasonably cold and rainy, but after a lovely breakfast (yes, Brad had bacon, eggs and toast) and the loan of an umbrella, we decided to explore the town. We got as far as the castle, and the rains came – our cue to go visit Giulio and Alexandra.

Snow capped mountains, a steam engine in cafe’s yard and sheep and donkeys led the way to the true Prosecco region of Valdobiadene and the village of Vidor. We met Giulio and Alexandra in Romania 10 years ago and became fast friends. They recently inherited an 11th century Abbey and we couldn’t wait to visit. It’s breathtaking. www.abbaziadisantabona.com

Abbazia Santa Bona has a storied history, and was the home Giulio grew up in. Sited on the Piave River with curated woodlands and a treasure trove of antiques, it’s like your best dream of Italy. He and Alexandra and the children live there part time and are trying to find the best use for it – it should be shared. If my best and brightest have some ideas, please send them my way.

We talked and laughed and Giulio made lunch and Alexandra took us on a walk through the forest. It was like stepping back in time. We have toured a lot of ancient structures, but there is a feeling here that is special. There is much work to do, but it’s more of a mission of preservation than commerce. It has to be done.

Yes we are in Italy, yes we are visiting friends in an 11th century abbey, yes we are drinking Prosecco from their vineyards and eating fabulous local food, but we shared a day with friends. We traded ideas, we caught up, we laughed, we hugged. That was the most beautiful part.

Stopping to smell the roses with dear friends is what makes life worth living.

And on to Villa Maser which was designed by Andrea Palladio in 1570. A perfect example of what we now call “Palladian architecture”. Then on to Antonio Canova’s Gipsoteca, a museum dedicated to the famous sculptor from the 1700’s. After my recent lecture on Michelangelo, it made the sculptures all that more interesting.

And then back to the beautiful village of Asolo and our cozy hotel. We now have made friends with Francesco, who greets us like returning royalty, and we’re settled into our deep bathtubs and cozy robes before dinner. There are many little osterias in the Centro Storico, but the food is fabulous here, we can tumble upstairs after a full bottle of the wonderful local Valpolicella, and we’re on vacation, not a race to see everything.

We shared stories with the Australian man sitting next to us, we ate leisurely, we drank a whole bottle of wine and are ensconced in our suite documenting the day. Cold, rainy, gray, but full to the brim with experiences. Make the most of every day – we only have so many of them.