(Google has won and forced me to add more pages for the scroll challenged. Seems once you go so far on a page it goes wacko and so you start a new one and not fight them)
What a difference a day makes. We awoke to snow on the high mountain tops. Our day adventure was to visit downtown L’Aquila a short distance but about a hour and a half drive over the mountain. The turns are so sharp on many of these roads that GPS will say turn right, when actually it is just a hair pin turn. She just can not believe there are turns that tight. the drive was spectacular with no traffic right on our bumper trying to pass. L’Aquila is the province capital and a fairly large city. It was hit by a 6.8 earthquake in 2009. Big enough that President Obama visited the site. People who live there told us of watching the earth roll like waves on the beach. It was pretty terrifying for them. It was a surreal feeling walking around the town. Every single building is empty and being held up with a system of I-beams and some of the most elaborate scaffolding I have ever seen. And there are almost no people in the town except the hundreds and hundreds of workers in their coveralls. We were there during lunch so they were everywhere in the streets. There were a couple of cafes open, but every other store front was used as a billboard for flyers. No idea how long it will take to rebuild the town but I estimate a life time and million and millions of dollars. If it was not O.S. I am sure they would have just pushed it down.
What a difference a day makes. We awoke to snow on the high mountain tops. Our day adventure was to visit downtown L’Aquila a short distance but about a hour and a half drive over the mountain. The turns are so sharp on many of these roads that GPS will say turn right, when actually it is just a hair pin turn. She just can not believe there are turns that tight. the drive was spectacular with no traffic right on our bumper trying to pass. L’Aquila is the province capital and a fairly large city. It was hit by a 6.8 earthquake in 2009. Big enough that President Obama visited the site. People who live there told us of watching the earth roll like waves on the beach. It was pretty terrifying for them. It was a surreal feeling walking around the town. Every single building is empty and being held up with a system of I-beams and some of the most elaborate scaffolding I have ever seen. And there are almost no people in the town except the hundreds and hundreds of workers in their coveralls. We were there during lunch so they were everywhere in the streets. There were a couple of cafes open, but every other store front was used as a billboard for flyers. No idea how long it will take to rebuild the town but I estimate a life time and million and millions of dollars. If it was not O.S. I am sure they would have just pushed it down.
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| We had sunshine and mostly clear skies going over the mountain. We took the autostrada home and when we came out of the 12 km long tunnel this is what the weather was.
FACTOID: As soon as our absentee votes were counted the political phone calls stopped!!
Remember my rant last spring on Memorial day when everyone was thanking
those that “served” or “serving” and I went on about it ain’t the one’s that are
alive but these guys..........
            ..................just a few of the millions.
None of these places meant a lot until last year when Alison Libersa
“introduced me to her boys” and told me the personal stories of these people. It
brought tears to my eyes. These are real people that died for a cause. To me
it was the last cause worthy of dying for. Anything since then has been silly
politics and a tragedy. Since last year I have visited a few military
cemeteries in the U.S. but there is no one there to tell the stories of those
lying dead under bright white head markers. The only people to talk to are the
grass cutters and they are contracted people. If you ask someone of authority,
which required research and phone calls to find, they say it is because of lack
of money. You have the money to kill them but not the money to respect them.
This is not new and it will not change. Even worse now as almost none of us
know a person who fought in any of our recent debacles. A few dollars, probably
less than the cost of a new jet, would fund at least one person at each national
cemetery to tell the stories of some of the soldiers that gave their lives for
us. History is important to know or we can always wait a repeat it again and
again.
PIZZA
We had not had a pizza yet so Friday night we got some recommendations and
headed off to Il Ritrovo in the commune of Piano Grande. In Italy often you can
not get a pizza until evening as it cost a lot of money to fire to the oven. A
15# bottle cost us about $53 US. Normally we order one pizza, however the
custom is for each person to get their own. Since we brought Frank along and
Vicki ate part of mine we ordered a second one after the first one went down so
easy. Italian restaurants are normally brightly lite and have a TV or several
going. At night, nobody pays any attention to them unless there is a football
game on but there must be a law that they have to be on. We sat next to the
heater which put us right in front of a TV that they promptly turned on for our
enjoyment. Oh Boy! We did watch the commercials with US celebrities, Julia
Roberts was the big one in these, and the news. Of course the U.S.A. was in the
news.It amazes me how we, who brag about being the mightiest nation in the world
yet run like a bunch a little girls squealing when something happens we do not
understand. The TV in front of us covered Americas big fear of Ebola, a virus
that has been around for a least 20 years that I know of. It is not something
“new” from Africa. In the U.S. it seems there is panic and we are wanting to ban
travel, set up quarantine, and probably shot any suspects or send them to
Guantanamo. In Europe that has the same exposure of travelers if not more, it
seems to be no big deal. I guess we just have to be scared of something all
the time
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Café 90.
There is one café in town, Club 90, again the size of a small living room
in America. I make the journey every day to have coffee and internet. The first
morning I went to the Café 90 for coffee, I met the whole village and the
proprietor , Francesca. She served me a great cappuccino and we conversed a
little, me understanding her more than she understanding me. When I asked what
her hours were she did not capish and asked a gentleman at the bar to interrupt
and when he could not, a man in a group next to me says“she opens at 7” and
everyone looked at him in amazement and I was able to capish that they all were
exclaiming “you speak English”. This seemed to be a secret to all his friends,
but it should not have been as he explained he had lived in Perth, Australia for
ten years. He explained to me that closing hour was when everyone went home at
night.
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| everyday I negotiated through these guys |
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| Francesca |
One morning I met Pascale who is 97. He just quit driving 4 months ago.
Sharp as a tack and still very agile as he walks round town with a cane but does
not seem to use it. We greet each other and every time we pass in the street we
have a conversation about what, I have no idea, except when he pointed his cane
across the mountain I am pretty sure he said that was were he used to live and
the terrain or dirt was very poor. What great stories he could tell if we could
just communicate.
There are a whole list of characters in Café 90. There is the middle age
gentleman that just walks in, walks across the room, walks outside and repeats
this for hours.
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| Paolo's uncle. "He has been a problem since he was born" |
I met “Freddy” in the street one day. He was throwing his head around and
jumping around, as much as a little plump short legged dog can, headed down the
street. He stopped a couple times and looked back to see if I was following
him. He stopped in front of Café 90 and barked a few times. I guess that is
where he wanted me to go. One morning there was a dog barking at the front
door. We have had cats, but never a dog. When I opened the door there stood
“Freddy” barking. I had never even seen “Freddy” in our alley so I was
surprised. I closed the door and went about my business. I rounded up my
things for the morning wake to the Café 90 and there was “Freddy” just sitting,
waiting for me. As I left he took off as fast as his short little legs would
carry him. A just like before, he would look around to see if I was following
and led me right to the Café 90.
And there is the famous artist “Jean de le Valle”
his art
Goodbye V. San Giovanne
We greatly enjoyed our time in V. San Giovanne and the people really made
your feel at home saying hello no matter how many times we passed them on the
street, but we decided to move on. Stephan’s apartment was very comfortable
until the mountain tops turned from green to white and the overnight
temperatures fell into the thirties. The house is not set up for winter and
though the wood stove in the living area kept us comfortable the bedroom, with
no heat and no winter blankets, turned more like camping out without a sleeping
bag. We thank Stephan for sharing his house with us.
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| Paolo, our care taker and his friend Phillip |
Before we left we went back to the Pizza restaurant for a real meal, and
true to tradition the pizza oven was off. Not to matter, as we came for a
meal. The place was full. When we arrived at 12:30 there was a party of 40 to
50 already there and all the other tables were set for large parties, 20 to 30.
There was a table for two in the corner and they sat us there. It was a great
location as it afforded a view of all the other action going on, singing,
dancing, exchanging presents, etc. Best we could tell they were all birthday
parties. Our meal again was excellent and the service, despite being out
numbered, fantastic.
