MOM AND DAD

This trip is dedicated to my Mom and Dad. They provided me with a solid foundation, a strong moral compass, and a sense of adventure that has taken me around the world many times. Without their guidance none of this would have been possible. 

 90+ and still pulling weeds and growing corn

70 years of marriage

BACK TO PARIS

The trip from Tuscany to Paris was uneventful.  We were able to book our favorite apartment next to the Montparnasse tower and train station. It is the area we have grown comfortable in and know most of the shops and restaurants. It is a great place to decompress from a long journey.

Montparnasse tower..the highest building in Paris

It is early winter weather with cloudy skies, gusty winds and cool temperatures. I spend my mornings sitting on the Place Fernand Mourlet watching Paris come alive. Delivery trucks unloading everything from wine to fresh fish to toilet paper. Parents walking their children to the school around the corner. There are as many fathers as mothers holding the hands of the young ones.

The admission to this show is kind of steep. Prices at cafes are set by where you sit. Outside is the most expensive at $5 for a coffee. Years ago someone gave me some good advice. "Ken," he said "don't think of it as an expensive cup of coffee. Think of it as renting, for just $5, a piece of the most expensive real estate in the world. So remember, location, location, location."  That changed my whole outlook. It is true that once you buy a cup of coffee or wine you can sit there forever. Reading a book, sleeping, whatever you want. We time rushed Americans have a hard time grasping this concept but if you can become comfortable with that concept, it is great. You can sit and watch a free show for hours if you wish.

There are alternatives to this high price, though. There are small fast food type places that you can get a coffee and croissant for $2.50. They even sometimes have outside small tables.

or 1.50 euro coffee and crossiant

As usual, we did a lot of walking, some museum special exhibits, and some fine dining. Fine dining does not mean expensive. Just little meals, usually the "plat du jour" , the daily special. Of course, I did not eat nearly enough doner kabobs (gyro to you Americans, but much better) in Turkey so I had to have one here. As for museums, you can go to one a day for a year and never see all the museums in Paris.

 Ok, say "cheese"....

 ...now everyone change positions.

 Leave it to the Americans to be the first to sell Christmas.

 At the Louvre no less.

September and 80F

 November and 50F

Where else can you see an upright piano as a street instrument

 The Rue of a great little Vietnamese restaurant.

There are 8 small tables in the space as big as an American bathroom.

 The French will protest anything.  That is why I love them.

 Why do city people want the biggest dogs?

 Art we saw.....

...and art she stole.

So the loop has now been closed and we are off to pick up the cat from my Mom and Dad and go home. It has been a great adventure and I have been very fortunate in my life to be able to do such trips. As always, I hope you enjoyed the ride. Thank you to all those who made this trip possible.

THE END

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


The next "known" adventure is the Scooter Cannonball Run in April 2012. This is a race on scooters from Savannah, Ga. to San Diego, Ca on scooter. I will plan to race and raise money for Escuela Bilingue los Algarrobos in Canoa, Ecuador. Please check www.lostboaterdiaries.com for updates on this adventure.

TUSCANY NOTES

NOTES ON TUSCANY

This is where I sit in the morning drinking coffee, reading, contemplating the meaning of life and watching the town of Monte San Savino come to life. It's just like being in a painting that is changing. There is a chill in the the fresh crisp air with a hint of smoke from the fire I just started in the wood stove. With the town shrouded in fog or in the dawn sun I watch the lights begin to disappear as the sun rises over the hills. The mountains in the distance are a blurry blue or gray back drop.

It is so quiet, except for the birds, that when a big leaf falls from the top of the black walnut tree you can hear it come crashing down through the branches hitting the other leaves and it will often land on the ground with a thump. I thought it was an animal at first and then one day I watched one falling and realized it was the leaf making all that noise.

The tree was almost full of leaves when we arrived.

Italy does not wake up early so it is pretty light when I begin to hear sounds of life. The small road in front of Villa Ceppeto has a hairpin turn right at the property line so I hear a car sounding its horn as a warning in the turn as it's making it's way down the hill. In the distance I see a few head lights of cars driving up the road that circles around the hill up to the center of town. Soon I hear the Ape, a scooter with three wheels and a truck body, putt putting across the field below and  to the side of the Villa Ceppeto, heading  off to town or the field.

 The blind turn.

Vespa with a truck body.

As the day gets into to full swing you begin to hear the voices in all the olive orchards around as people begin the day of harvesting their olives. I hear the 96 year old lady up the road about 300 yards talking to her chickens. She has conversations with them on and off all day and when we are in the orchard, Daniel or Manuela will interpret for me. We get a big laugh out of her serious discussions with chickens and the rooster in particular and all agree that we hope we can talk to chickens when we are 96.

When Spotty arrives, I know in about 45 minutes we will be heading out to start pulling olives off the trees.

From up here in my little quiet private world it is a great place for a few hours every morning. Then I get up, grab my gloves and march off to the olives.

The other day the neighbor across the road was asking from his orchard to Manuela in the garden if she had pressed any olives and how much oil did she get.  This was all being interpreted for me by Daniel. "She is lying", he says. "The man wants to know how many kilo
s of oil we got and she is saying 17 kg and we only got 14.5 kg per 100 kg of olives."  Daniel, who is Swiss, says "All the Italians are like this." "They lie to each other about the grape harvest or the olive harvest."  "The problem is sometimes they forget what they lied and a just make up a new one." We both chuckled and went back to work.

Tuscany is being put to bed for the winter. All the grapes are in and crushed and starting to ferment through the winter. In a few weeks the olives will all be pressed into oil  and stored away. Hopefully enough to last until next fall. The fields are plowed and the winter cover crops are being planted.






So, it is time for us to move on. We fly to Paris on Saturday to close the circle on the Poor Mans Orient Express.

EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL

http://www.bestoftuscany.it/

When we first started coming to Tuscany a few years back,  I was a virgin in the olive oil knowledge area. I knew there were Extra Virgin, Virgin, and olive oil. In Loro Ciuffena near the cottage IL Poggilino where we were staying (a place we both love) there was a olive oil co-op that we visited.  They offered to educate us on olive oil and set up little shot glasses of oil to taste.  First I thought "are these people nuts wanting me to do oil shooters!" Wow! I never realized what a difference there could be in olive oils.  No matter what price we have paid since then in the U.S., we cannot get olive equal to what you get here at the source.

That is why I wanted to come one time and experience the whole process from harvesting to eating.

Villa Ceppeto, outside of Monte San Savino, where we are staying now, has 750 olive trees.  They are not harvested in the way I am used to. When I was young working on the farm you would start at the beginning of the row and finish at the other end. In the olives, not every tree is harvested and not every tree in a row is ready at the same time. It is, to me, sort of a mystical event.  Manuela, the "Olive Boss", loves her trees and I think has some type of mental connection with them. When we finish a tree she will walk around pulling the big net until the next tree calls out to her.  It may the right next to the last one or up the hill or on the other side of the orchard. The color of the olive is not the important part, it is how oily the olive is. Once you pick a tree every olive comes off and I mean every olive. We just wait for her to say "come on boys" and we grab our gear and follow her dragging the net.

 "Come on boys"

Harvest is not difficult but it is tiring if you do it all day long. But every day is a social event, chatting and talking. Some times to me in English and a lot between Daniel and Manuela in Italian. . About the weather, the trees, the harvest, our next adventure. (They are off to NY city for Christmas and New Year's. You should see what you can get in a NY city home exchange when you have apartments in Tuscany. Daniel says I should buy one just for the home exchanges). It is basically Manuela and Daniel harvesting, except on weekends their friends may come from around Italy to help and visit. A lot of times I have seen Manuela working by herself all day.

 Manuela, Spotty and me.

 This tree is over 250 years old. Spotty is making sure I do it right.

Daniel working on the ladder

With 750 olive trees you would think a lost olive here or there would not be a big deal.  It is. To the "Olive Boss", every olive counts. It can take as long as two hours to harvest a really good tree and I will admit that by end of the day on the last couple of trees, we may leave a olive or two and hope she doesn't see them.

There are fun moments like having lunch in the field or,when near the house, Manuela brought out fresh cakes and vin sante for an afternoon break. The other couple, Molly and Rick, are staying here for a few days and also helped harvest between tours of the countryside.

Once the you have a large enough harvest, you load it and take it to the local co-op for pressing. We loaded, with Spotty the "supervisor", 40 crates that equaled 625 kg or about 1,375 pounds. 

At the co-op they are dumped in the hopper and the process begins. It is a six step process.

They are shaken to get trash out. Then washed and shaken to get more trash out. Then they go to a machine that  pulverizes them into a paste. From there they go into a big auger that helps separate out the liquid.  The liquid then goes into a big rotating vat that separates more of the particle matter.  The final stage is a centrifuge that separates out the water and there it is ......extra virgin olive oil. This a very loud noisy process that takes about 2 hours. 

 Into the hopper to start the process

 Daniel inspecting the olives along the process

 The washer

 The auger.

 The auger turning the olives into paste and separating the liquid.

 Liquid from the separator

 The first flow of our new oil.

Hurray the oil is flowing.

So, where does virgin oil and regular oil come from......

 ...here...

..... and here.

The remains of the product is dumped into a big dumpster and sold where it will be pressed again to produce Virgin Olive oil and pressed again for just plain olive oil.

Daniel loaded the oil in his care and headed back to Villa Cepetto where Vicki and I were allowed into the "vault" where the wine is made and stored along with the olive oil.  We poured the barrels into the big stainless steel vats.

 Vicki and Daniel in the secret cave

The last year Manuela's father made wine.

Then by tradition, you warm Tuscan bread (no salt) on a wood stove, rub garlic on the warm bread, pour on the fresh, still warm from the pressing, extra virgin olive oil, sprinkle a little salt and bite down. Let me tell you....it is great. 

Oh yea, add wine.

For me it was a wonderful experience. Harvesting olives all day and dragging home pleasantly tired and tasting the fruits of your work is a wonderful experience. There is a lot of work that goes into producing extra virgin oil. In Tuscany it is all done by hand. No tree shakers or any of that modern stuff. No spreading nets and letting the olives fall off the tree.  They are all picked by hand.  In the end, I think it is a much superior product.

 The view from our apartment in the morning when I go to work.

The view when you come home.