Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

San Feliciano, a fishing village

@brittarnhild

Lago Trasimeno fascinated us, so after visiting Isola Maggiore we went back to make a drive around the lake. In my mind I had seen quite a lot of small, charming fishing villages we could visit. When we drove we realised they would be hard to find, but in the end we stopped at San Feliciano, which turned out to be a perfect choice for us.

It was siesta time. Perfect for coffee and gelato for us, perfect for playing games for the fishing men.

No doubt that San Feliciano is a fishing village, fishing gear everywhere,

waiting for another morning, a new dawn.

No other tourists as far as we could see, and people let us walk around just as if we belonged.

I couldn´t help wondering what it would be like to buy a house here, and settle in for a few weeks every year.

 

Tegamaccio, fish soup in a terracotta pot

@brittarnhild

From Cortona you can see lake Trasimero, a lake which is situated not in Tuscany, but in Umbria. The first day we met Frances we told her that we were planning to drive down to the lake. "You know there is a ferry out to Isola Maggiore" was her reply, and both of us knew that Isola Maggiore it had to be.

The day was very hot. We hoped that the lake would give us some fresh air, and it kind of did as long as we were on the ferry, in shade of the burning sun. Not so on the island.

Frances also told us that St. Frances of Assisi had stayed on the island, and we could still visit his church. Very intriguing of course, so we filled our water bottles and started an island hike. "Let us first walk around the island" I said, "then we can do the churches afterwards.

Cicadas filling the burning air,

colourful critters.......

.......and then we came to a dead end. Danger. Look out for slides. And we had to turn, walking back.

By then we were famished,  we walked back to the village and found Ristorane L´Oso. A good choice, a best choice.......if, I mean when I go back to Isola Maggiore, I know where to go to get my food.

We shared a seafood starter. Oh, is all this true? We looked at one another is disbelief before we started to eat, and soon the huge plate was empty, our smiles broader and broader.

But I still had the highlight. A fish soup. Tagamaccio, a traditional fish soup from Umbria, its name from the terracotta pot, tegame, in which it is cooked. A eat fish soup everywhere I travel, and like to believe that I know a little about fish soups by now. And believe me - this one is GOOD!

Food traveling is a great way to travel. To follow the seasons and the local specialties. I love foodtravel books, and a favorite food traveller is Tessa Kiros. Are you familiar with her? No? Then it is time to do something with that. Buy her books, follow her on facebook and on instagram :-)

I posted a photo of the soup on instagram, asking Tessa if she happen to have a recipe. Her answer, which came almost right away, was:
I don´t have that one - others yes, but different regions. Yours sounds amazing. Will look it up.

Another favourite food traveller is Frances Mayes of course. While I was texing Tessa Kiros, several food pictures appeared on her instagram page. While I enjoyed my tegamaccio, she was busy in her Bramasole kitchen, testing recipes for her next book, See you in the Piazza.

 

We never made it to the churches. I have to go back!

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All this food talk, my mouth is watering.
Good thing our  gardenpizzas are just ready.......see you later.

Frances Mayes´blog

 The homepage of Ristorante L´Oso

Flavours and Traditions of Trasimeno

 

I open the blue book.......and walk into Bramasole garden

@brittarnhild

We had packed our suitcases and checked out from our Bed&Breakfast. But before leaving Cortona we had one more thing to do. Frances Mayes had invited us to come and see her garden. 

 When Terje and I arrived, a small bus was standing outside the gate and a dozen people were walking around, with their cameras. We waited till the bus had left, then walked over to the gate. No bell. No people to be seen. I had read in one of Frances´ books that from her second floor studio she could actually hear people talking from down on the road, so I started to small talk with Terje. Which was quite easy. We were standing in fromt of a wall planted with hundreds of lavendels, at least it looked like hundreds to me, an in all the sweet blue a million butterflies were swarming. How could we not talk about the butterflies.

 

And quite right, Frances heard us, leaned out of her studio window, called down to us to wait and not long after she came down and opened the gate, welcoming us inside.

In the preface of Under the Tuscan Sun, Frances writes: I open the blue book. Writing about this place, our discoveries, wanderings, and daily life, also has been a pleasure. A Chinese poet many centuries ago noticed that to re-create something in words is being alive twice

And not only being alive twice Frances. By writing about it and sharing with your readers from around the world, you have added life to so many people. Life, beauty, excitement, knowledge, dreams.  I am also alive twice through your books, and then, here the dream was unfolding in from of my eyes, walking in the garden of Bramasole, Terje at my side, you in front of us, together with us, pointing, showing, sharing, telling us about a plant here, an olive tree there. Life. I felt I should stop and ask Terje to pinch my arm, but it was no time for that.

Time was for looking into a little hidden reading place, for following your finger when you pointed out the path you walk down to Cortona for your morning coffee, for smelling your favourite rose, carpe diem.

The table on the terrace in front of the house. I have read so much about it, and here it was, a reality, just as I had imagine.

The area outside the kitchen, where so many dinners have taken place. The palette  taken right out of your books. 

Then you took us into the kitchen, where you the day before had been busy trying out new recipes for your next book, See you in the Piazza, which will come next spring, and further on into the hall, the dining room with the frescos of Lago Trasimeno, the living room with deep comfortable chairs, paintings, your little "museum". I took photos, but felt I was inside your privacy and it doesn´t feel right to share them here in the blog.

Everything has an end, or a new beginning, a new dream. Before we left I wanted a photo in front of Ed´s vespa. New dreams.

Then it was time for arrivederci.......new beginnings.

Now I look forward to read your recent book, Women in Sunlight.

 

Bramasole and Frances Mayes

@brittarnhild

Ever since I read Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes, some time around 20 years ago, I have been dreaming of Bramasole, and also of Tuscany. In 2000 we bought our cabin from my parents, and when making the cabin "mine", I was working with my right hand, Under the Tuscan Sun, and later Bella Tuscany in my left, always. Not that Rastarbo, our cabin is anything at all like Bramasole, not that I am Frances Mayes. But the dreams her books created in me. They were prizeless. They still are. I have these two first books of her at the cabin, but after a while I had to buy an extra set to have at home. I needed them. Just like I need bread in the mornings :-)

Bramasole, Cortona, Tuscany, has been a dream for me. Then, when I started to travel to Santa Maria a Ferrano, for the retreats I realized that Tuscany was not only a dream. It was real. The same thing happened when I became friends with Frances on facebook. She was not only a dream anymore. She became real.......well, almost real kind of :-)

Then, when Terje and were planning 10 days in Tuscany, just the two of us, before continuing our Tuscan days with the kids, I started to wonder. May be Bramasole is not only a dream? May be Bramasole is real?

Long story made short.......with the help of Frances we ended up staying four nights in the most charming B&B you can imagine, up on the rooftops of Cortona (more about that later.......may be), and on our first morning in this charming medieval town, we met Frances Mayes outside Bar Cafe´Signorelli, in one of the two piazzas in Cortona.

You must come and see my garden, Frances said. It is not difficult to find, everybody knows where it is.

I needed to keep my dream a dream a little longer. Truthfully, I was rather reluctant to drive up to the house, afraid my dream would vanish.

We did not go that day,

neither the next.

Then our last full day came. We were heading for Arezzo, and I knew we simply had to drive up to Bramasole on our way. Bramasole is actually marked on google maps, so we had no problems finding it. And I got my dozens of photos, and a full proof that this peach coloured dream of a building, and its lush garden, is not only a dream. It is truth as well.

The gate was closed, and we saw no people.

And after we left I put some of the photos I´d taken up on facebook.

I got a lot of likes. I am not the only one dreaming about Bramasole. And I got comments. One of them from Frances - .......you should have come in to see the garden! Let me know if you want to come back.......

Of course we wanted to come back. Of course we let her know.......and of course we actually came back!

 

But that´s a tale for tomorrow :-)

 

Santa Maria filled with students and art

@brittarnhild

When I have been at Santa Maria in spring it has been quiet, with few people. Silent retreat almost. Not so this time. Every single bed was occupied, with students ands teachers from a German Steiner School. Terje and I slept in the nearby village, but were invited over for lunch and dinner.

The church was transformed into an art studio.

I am sure the breastfeeding Mary and her baby Jesus love the colours. (follow the link to see pictures of the frescos)

 

From inside the church I could enjoy the sight of art in progress.

and the smell of a meal. Food in progress.

 Another vegetarian meal at Santa Maria. Fresh greens, vegetables of the season, divine taste.

If I was born in another century I could have been a witch

@brittarnhild

 

If I was born in another century I could have been a witch. I love everything old and natural apothecary, herb medicine, teas and ointments made of weeds and roots.

Coming into the Antica Farmacia del Monaci Camaldolesi was like coming into heaven. Witch heaven.

A place where I, the witch, could sit down, studying the old books, learning more about the use of plants.

 Not only studying, but also having my own desk where I could sit down and write about the plants growing out in the monastery garden, and in the woods.

I could have been a witch, or the authorities might have believed so. 
I would have used my witch craft to do only good deeds of course. With prayers along with every weed.

In the end I had to leave all my dreams, but before finding my seat in our rented car, I bought a toothpaste, dentifricio alla menta, piemontese pura, and two types of tea, finocchio composto, fennel, and carciofo composto, artichoke.

If you come over, I will make you a cup of tea. A cup of witch tea.

 

Ny the way, here is a link to the old apothecary.

 

Truffle time

@brittarnhild

Eating in Italy is about following the seasons. You eat what is ripe, there and then. During our stay this time, it was truffle time. No doubt about that.

Thomas pointed out places for us on our map. Marking them with a ball pen. I love to have maps marked with ball pens, just as I love books with dog ears. Terje the driver. I the map reader. The map I´ve bought in Tuscany, GPS, google maps. Taking us to small villages, churches, monasteries. Since Thomas was the one who had marked the map there were many churches. And monasteries.

We drove roads less taken. Up, up, up. I was prepared to get a great view over Tuscany, but no, there were trees everywhere. Driving mountain roads in Italy is different from driving mountain roads in Norway.

We came to one of the monasteries exactly half a minute after closing time. "Sorry, we are closed!"

But on our way down, in the middle of no where, found another monastery. With a restaurant with a truffle menu. And an ancient apothecary.

Truffles. A new taste to me. I had to tell myself that this is something you like Britt Arnhild. And then I did. Then I loved it.Potatoes ands scarmorza cheese flan with fresh truffle. Followed by home made strozzapreti pasta with fresh truffle. Oh, I could eat it again, and again.

While I went for the truffles, Terje decided the hunter´s menu.
On our way up the mountain we had passed a deer and her baby, so I did not!

The old apothecary deserves its own blog post. We deserved another village, another stop. Another coffee.

 

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Blogs updated:

dagens lille grønne, ideas for a green living, today with Terje making cherry jam

My nature journal

 

 

 

Santa Maria in summer

@brittarnhild

I know Santa Maria a Ferrano in spring. After three spring visits I know the colours of the flowers, the smell of the earth, the singing of the birds.......in spring. Coming back in the heath of summer was different.

Red poppies instead of the blue irises. The air was different. The colours. The fragrances.

The main difference though was that Santa Maria was filled almost to the brim, with 30+ teenagers and their teachers from a German Steiner school. No room for us to sleep, so we stayed in Locanda Tinti, a small bed&breakfast in the nearby village. An absolutely charming place. The breakfast terrace made up for the two of us, a roof terrace on our own, and, according to Thomas (at Santa Maria) Italy´s best coffee.

Paola and Thomas were busy with the huge visiting group, but still had time for us. Inviting us over for meals, making plans for next years retreat, and most important.......showing us possible places to explore, on the road map we had brought.

Here you see Terje and Thomas in deep concentration, discussing possible roads for us to drive :-)

Santa Maria in spring. Santa Maria in summer.
Now I am curious what it looks like in autumn. In winter.

 

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Blogs updated:

maskerade, my knitting blog

Britt Arnhilds naturdagbok, my nature journal

Hyttelivet på Rastarbo, my cabin journal

 

 

San Miniato, one of "a million" mountain villages in Tuscany

@brittarnhild

After a couple of days with our friends in Pastina, we headed east in Tuscany. Santa Maria a Ferrano, where I have spent Easter the last two years, was our goal. But on the way we needed lunch, and why not stop and explore one of the million mountain villages in Tuscany? Our choice fell on San Miniato. I don´t know why, may be just because I was the map reader, and I loved its name.

As it still was too early for lunch, we hiked up to the top of the town, past the cathedral, up to the tower of the fortress.

Almost too hot to hike under the burning Tuscan sun, but we made it, and was rewarded with an amazing view. Vineyards, hills filled with olive trees, another mountain town here, another mountain town there. A hundred shades of green and smiles full of love in the selfie we took.

San Miniato, situated between Pisa and Florence, is a Slow City, known for its truffles.
Of course we had truffle risotto for lunch. A glass of local white wine for me, sparkling water for the driver.

 

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I am not only back here in The House in the Woods, I am also slowly back to updating my other blogs:

Britt Arnhilds naturdagbok, my nature journal

A month without knitting - in maskerade, my knitting blog

 

 

An alabaster workshop

@brittarnhild

Our first days under the Tuscan sun were spent with good friends in their home away from home in a tiny little village just south of Pisa. We arrived on the 28th of June, our 38th anniversary, and celebrated with a lovely Italian dinner out in their garden.

The next day we were ready to explore the area, filled two cars and drove over to Volterra, the hometown of alabaster. On the way we had a stop in Teatro del Silenzeo, outside Lajatico, the hometown of Andrea Bocelli. Bocelli helds a concert in this amphi theatre once every July, the rest of the year the theatre remains silent. The picture of me and Terje was taken outside the theatre.

Volterra is known worldwide because of its alabaster, and the amazing alabaster art.

After lunch on the main piazza in Volterra, Terje and I did a walk, and almost by chance we found an alabaster workshop. Free entrance, and a great possibility to watch this amazing craft.

Our bank would come after us to Tuscany if we tried buying one of the main alabaster pieces of art, I am sure. But luckily, they also sold more simple stuff, still very beautiful, for people like us, and suddenly Terje found his wife with a new nativity and a new Easter egg. With the bank remaining silent.

We left the workshop,

found other treasures,

and had gelato and coffee before heading back to our friends.