italy
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Cities upon hills
Walking from town to town would be very different if this were Kansas, or Tennessee. It’s Tuscany, and we’re on the antique Via Francigena (or occasionally off it, mixing up the varied trail markings with the Google maps of our… Continue reading
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What can you say?
Should parents apologize in public for a child’s behavior? Should we two Americans apologize for our President? If so, how, across a language barrier? We thought we would have a quiet, private dinner at the table in the empty back… Continue reading
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On a train and the Lucca wall
On a passenger train, the living things passing by can strike you with a poignancy like nothing else. A child on a bike, that geranium on a window sill, green hills in April cloud shadows. Their brief appearances, and disappearance,… Continue reading
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Sic transit!
Germans display their orderliness even in a labor strike. The pilots of Lufthansa joined their fellow workers by holding a two-day strike, April 13 and 14. Danke schön, I picture management negotiators saying, and promptly informing us by email that… Continue reading
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Learning Italian
The language we learn from infancy to childhood, from classrooms to books, becomes the water we swim in. That’s a good metaphor. We swim in our language, not caring how it keeps us afloat. Like fish, we don’t need to… Continue reading
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Italian Church Art
Through an ancient stone portal in the Adriatic city of Polignano a Mare, in the boot heel of Italy, you walk into a small piazza and then enter the 730-year-old Church of Saint Mary of the Assumption – Santa Maria Assunta.… Continue reading
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With Us
Huge old echo-y churches are all around. In the historic districts in the heart of Italian cities, where cars are virtually banned, you walk into dim sanctuaries that hold you in a silent awe. There’s some kind of awesome mystery… Continue reading
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Portichi di Bologna
Bologna feels old, older than Florence. A mere 37-minute train ride from the touristy Florence, Bologna had its heyday a couple of centuries before the Renaissance. But arriving in Bologna from the U.S. late yesterday, we are swept up by… Continue reading
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Sorrow at Urbino’s Sugar Café
Let’s meet at the Sugar Café. Buongiorno, Giovanni. . . . Buongiorno, my friend. If Giovanni Garbugli was at his café when you arrived, he might be the waiter who brought out your order of coffee, pastries, and salami, with… Continue reading
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Lost in Translation
As Americans, we are twice-removed from how it feels to be in a European country. Our political consciousness is shaped by a two-party system (now more emotionally tribal than conservative-liberal) and elections set on two- and four-year cycles, rather than… Continue reading
An American journalist heads for Italy to see his country changing from afar. 