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Michael D Housewright
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Italy Rules - Expanded

Spaghetti with Clams - Le Marche

What a wonderful and sometimes intense set of responses from my previous post - The Italy Rules. I want to take a little time today to expand and expound on some of my thoughts and provide further insight into traveling in Italy.

1. Italy Guides - Here is my short list of who I would travel with and why in Italy.

  • The Rome Digest - This new and wonderful consortium of talented Rome guides includes my dear friend Katie Parla, who is my champion of all things Roman (pork, gelato, beer, wine, art, history, and life) If you are going to spend time in Rome, and you should, let the Rome digest draw a map for you

  • Venice - Row Venice Nan McIlroy is one of the most knowledgeable people in Italy regarding living life, eating well, and getting out on the water. Don't pay 200 euro for a snooze on a gondola. Pay less and get out there and learn to do it yourself. Easily one of the greatest experiences I have ever had in Italy

  • Tuscany - Judy Francini will cook with you and teach you what it means to truly experience life in Tuscany. Reach out to her. She has been cooking successfully for her Italian husband for years. She will teach you how to impress anyone.

  • Puglia - this is a bit biased but I can vouch for the unbeatable quality of Southern Visions Travel. Antonello Losito leads this superior company leading the most authentic excursions into Italy's tastiest region. From 1 day to 1 month, these guys are amazing

  • Le Marche - Mariano Pallottini - the best guides are sometimes not guides. For this truly under-the-radar region no one can show visitors the ropes like Mariano. Please tell him I sent you.

  • Travel for Teens - If you would like to send your son or daughter on one of the most amazing experiences to be had. I strongly suggest using Travel for Teens. Managed and operated by a group of passionate, intelligent, and experienced men and women, TFT is the leader in volunteer and cultural travel in Italy for students. Ask for Ned or Nick and your young adult will be blown away

  • For other Italian regions I have friends of friends and would be happy to do some research for you

2. Fashion - Italians for the most part are some of the finest dressers in the world. My initial post was not meant to imply they were not good as a whole. However, shitty fashion is a worldwide epidemic. I am guilty of lazy fashion choices more frequently than I care to admit. When Italians dress badly, they do it in typically grandiose furor. There is a store in Monopoli, Puglia called "Banana Store." I assume this is some sort of knockoff of Banana Republic as the clothes tend towards the tighter side, made for people with fine and youthful figures. However, the patterns are simply gaudy and the colors never really seen outside of an old Vegas casino. The parade of muffin-top women parading about in Banana Store attire, 2-3 sizes too small is rough on the eyes. I am confident that while conservative and boring in dress, those of us not up to the task of Valentino, Armani, Dolce and G, etc. can rest easy so long as the Banana Store is in business (and the many stores just like them in the bedroom communities up and down the boot).

[caption id="attachment_2138" align="alignnone" width="400"] The Castle of my Dreams[/caption]

3. Italian Driving - While the idea of driving in Italy scares the hell out of many American visitors, driving in Italy is actually about 20% less likely to result in a fatality than driving in the USA. Italians have very strict rules of the road for highway driving. There is absolutely no passing on the right and tractor trailers must drive only in the right lane and only at a lower speed than auto traffic (which is posted clearly on the back of the truck). While parking rules, signal regulations, and almost any rule inside a city zone are frequently fudged, the rules for the highway are followed in most cases and make for a much more predictable driving experience. I really enjoy driving in Italy and feel safer than I do driving in a place like Houston, for example. Italian bus drivers are simply extraordinary drivers. Watching them drive, gesture, smoke, chat, and flirt all without breaking a sweat taking a Pullman down a narrow alley or into the bowels of a vineyard is simply art.

4. Hope - Italy is in very desperate financial straits at the moment (like 20 years ago) and there is a grim light being cast upon the country in regards to its future. Many young people are jobless and without prospects for a decent wage. Government inefficiencies, crime, and corruption siphon enormous amounts of the country's GDP. Life goes on, and sometimes beautifully, in spite of this austere hell. My comments about this are not intended to suggest this is due to a lack of creativity in the Italian people. However, I will say it is up to the citizens of this important country to right the ship. Defeat is an ugly thing to witness when it comes at the hands of giving up. I believe in the Italians I know and love. I believe in the resiliency of this very talented people. I am an advocate for Italy when it seems there are few natives who are. Beat me up for my opinions on fashion, food, and driving, but do not accuse me of diminishing the chances of Italy because I describe life as chaotic. The Universe was born from chaos and so was the Renaissance. I return to Italy over and over not because I need a food fix, or a chance to play in the fields of folly and fantasy. I return to Italy year-after-year to experience living in a primordial space. I come to Italy to argue without offense, to dine with challenging people, and to grow as a person. I see the world more freshly every time I go and I have never lost my fervor for the peninsula in 20+ years of travel.

5. More Two Week Itineraries - This is where I am going to have some fun. Take a look at these if you want to explore some trips in the way of The Blissful Adventurer.

  • Piedmont/Liguria - surprisingly this tremendously rich and hard-working region is not always on the traveler radar. Stay in the towns near Alba and explore Italy's finest red wines in Barolo and Barbaresco. These guys eat unpasteurized cheese any time of day. They have amazing local cows whose grass-fed meat is a dream served raw, and the prices to stay in amazing places like Villa Tiboldi are wonderfully cheap. If one must see the Cinque Terre (thanks again Rick Steves) then why not hike through there, then finish with pure luxury in Piedmont.

  • Sicily - 2 weeks is such a brief time to experience the island which a friend once referred to as a "continent". Food: unreal, Wine: near the top on the planet these days. Weather: nearly tropical at times, People: alive and getting more alive with the growth of the economy (many would argue it is not growing but I believe it is really getting better). Land in Palermo and do the west. Go up to the Aeolian islands and sail out to active volcanoes. Make your way East and drink up the fine wines near Menfi or drink in the Tunisian culture in Mazara del Vallo. See the ruins of Selinunte and Agrigento before setting fire to it all on the slopes of Mt Etna. This is one of the greatest places on the planet to experience life.

  • Sardinia - another island where 2 weeks is hardly enough. The bets pork I have ever eaten was here. The most dramatic contrast in life and landscape exists from the interior mountains to the sea only 1 hour away. Buy a knife, drink wines from vines older than the state of Alaska, and dip it all up with crispy flat-bread and the charming sounds of the local dialects. Sardinia is an Italy few see beyond the glitzy port towns. Get inside the island and you get inside another century. Take a boat there. Flying is boring and being on the open Mediterranean is a real high. Cagliari, Orgosolo, Orosei, Alghero, and Sassari offer the visitor a different view of the world in each stop.

  • Puglia/Basilicata - I like to eat well and without blowing my entire bank account. I like to ride bikes through 1000 year old olive groves. I like grilled meats, pizza, and local beers. I like erudite nightlife and funky old towns. Puglia has it all. From the baroque of Lecce to the Sassi of Matera in Basilcata there is more to do and see along these southern regions than any guide-book can express.

These are my Italy rules expanded and I hope you continue to follow my Italian adventures.

tags: Adventure, Blog, Blogging, Humor, Images, Judy Francini, Juliet Housewright, Le Marche, Michael Housewright, Sicily, Row Venice, Rome Digest, Rome, Piedmont, Southern Visions
Wednesday 04.17.13
Posted by Michael Housewright
 

Italy Images from a Month in the Boot

Italy Images from a Month on the Boot is a 3 part series of photos I have found deep in the annals of my iPhone from this past May in Italy. I have recently attended some seminars on iPhone photography and I am getting better at creating images that I believe invoke the feelings I have when I travel.

I took the shot above at the wondrous Masseria Gelso Bianco in Puglia, Italy. This facility owned by my very dear friend Antonello Losito is one of the most stunning properties along the heel of the boot. The 5 bedroom villa with pool, 11 trulli  (the conical-shaped iconic roofs of the area), and a world-class professional kitchen is the perfect getaway for family or friends to one of Italy's culinary and scenic gems. Staying here felt like coming home to a place I will always treasure. I loved being on the roof and shooting this shot as I watched the sun sink after a very rare rain shower.

I used a Venice shot in my last post and I like the juxtaposition here of the more ancient look processing from last time and this high texture process today. I love what I can do with my phone these days as it allows me to create the kind of art I would have long ago if I could draw. I cannot draw and I feel like I am reliving a bit of my youth with the tools I now have available to me.

Juliet and I had dinner just around the corner from here and the memory is so fresh looking at this photo. Venice was much more me than it was on my first visit 20 years ago. This is the kind of image I want to convey. This is the life I want to live.

As with anything that catches a buzz there is cynicism and that is certainly fair when it comes to the aging of images. However, the reason I choose these techniques is the age evokes something lost, a reason to believe that even antiquities were discovered by the creative. I will reveal more of my techniques in a later post and share those of the very talented man who guided me to this.

I just got this shot where I wanted it. This crumbling blue house in Burano is about the doorway. It is about living. There was an emergency crew going in and out of this place and I imagined someone was not doing well inside. Someone who 40 years ago stood outside dappled in fresh blue paint and grinning may have been on a final rest crumbling all around. All lines lead to the door which takes us from one world to the next.

I graduated from the University of Dallas, one of the most intellectually stimulating places in Texas. UD (not UTD) has its own campus just outside of Rome in a hamlet called Marino. The campus, Due Santi (two saints) has a vineyard and cantina for wine production. I had the great privilege to tour the facility this year.

Although I spent time on the campus before I never ventured into the cellar (cantina) as I was not the "wine guy" all those years ago. I was simply blown away that my alma mater possessed this wondrous facility. The university also has a few acres of vineyards and produces a lovely wine from the vines each year. Now I just want to convince them to clean out the old concrete fermentation tanks and make the wine right there in the facility just like the Romans.

This photo really captures the mood and texture of the place and is one of my favorites from the body of work we captured on the trip.

Please let me know what you think of the work and I look forward to sharing more soon.

Word,

M

 

 

 

tags: The Blissful Adventurer, @Blissadventure, Travel, Wine, travel, food, Adventure, Le Marche, juliet housewright, michael housewright
Thursday 10.25.12
Posted by Sarah Finger
 

Haiku Sunday - Italy iPhone Photography by Juliet Housewright

This week's edition of Haiku Sunday - Italy iPhone Photography by Juliet Housewright celebrates the eye of my talented wife on our most recent Italy journey. Juliet's work will have its own gallery on The Blissful Adventurer soon and these images will certainly be part of it. Enjoy today's Haiku and stay tuned for a big announcement tomorrow!

Feet seem happiest

when dappled lights and warmth find

a place to alight

 

Pino knew his boat

was capable of winning

still he hated others

 

life is so simple

at the moment wine is poured

laughing lust looking

vintage boats in tune

with vintage ideas that

are often fleeting

at the market shrimp

clamor over one another

to try to stay warm

fireworks shows were new

to the little boy from Menfi

watching from the sea

excuse me ma'am

I believe this man wants to

grope me, tell him no

never more inviting

than the sea when it is not

to be had that day

A photographer

looks into the lens of life

and records his truth

tags: @Blissadventure, Adventure, blog, europe, food, Italian, Italy, wine, Venice, Puglia, poetry, Le Marche, humor, Juliet Housewright
Sunday 07.22.12
Posted by Sarah Finger
 

Top 25 Italy Moments #10 - Man of Le Marche (or, Cold Fish is not an Option)

The Top 25 Italy Moments #10 - Man of Le Marche, continues our series of The Blissful Adventurer's most compelling events in 20 years of Italy travel and reveals the true story behind yesterday's post: The Legend of Boomie Bol

The Scene: Juliet and I had just arrived by train from Venice to the port town of San Benedetto del Tronto in Italy's Le Marche region. San Benedetto is Italy's second busiest seaport just behind the mighty Genoa. Le Marche was once a papal state and is replete with palaces, fortifications, theaters, and very few people. I was consistently mesmerized by the beauty of the place and at the same time how empty the streets were in every stunning hilltop town. I imagined this was what Tuscany might have been like in the late 1940s.

David Parish, a wonderful man of British and Italian descent met us at the train station and suggested we see the port. David is one of my favorite people in Italy and his wicked dry sense of humor played right into the hands of 2 very jet-lagged travelers.  Little did any of us know, including David, that his sense of humor would be on full display in the first 30 minutes of our journey.

The Action - We arrived at the port and immediately David suggested he go into this shop and ask for a snack. Forgetting all my Italian in an instant my brain went straight for the English cognate and  to the gutter. I thought this was going to be one hell of a town till David reminded me that this was simply a cute way of saying the shop specialized in raw seafood (crudo) and without condiment or impediments (nudo). Asporto means to take away or takeout in American English. Sadly, the shop did not open for another hour so we made our way into the little market to see some of the day's catch.

Typically, Italians love having their picture made much like children on Christmas morning. I have so few photos of the fish market because the women working the counters there shooed me away or covered their faces immediately when I tried to photograph them. Weird, and an odd start to an odd day. The seafood looked lovely and the people told David that the boats came in earlier that day and that one more round would be coming later. The fish on hand were clearly from that day even if the ladies working were looking more than a little haggard.

I decided I had seen enough of the market after about 6 minutes and went out into the huge parking area of the shipyard. There were fishing boats under repair and dry-docked on cranes.

Playboy here was getting a lovely face-lift but the machine holding it was so much cooler than the boat.

David disappeared off near the water and appeared to be checking his phone while I took shot after shot in the blindingly bright and pretty damn hot sun. When we found David he asked if we would like to go on a fishing boat. I was nervous as I knew fishermen were private and often spoke only in dialect but since I had David with me I said sure and he proceeded to seek out a boat to explore. As he went along the docks he was frequently denied his requests to board. I could see him pointing to Juliet and me each time he met a captain and I could then see the rustic captains shake their heads "no" as David moved along.  After almost 10 minutes he found us a willing boat.

This boat captain looked at us, made some gestures to David suggesting, "well if they really want to" and then he invited us into the small door there on the side.

Not 20 minutes before we received our dubious invitation to board I snapped this photo of one of the many retired fishermen offering advice to the captain of "The Millenium Falcone"

I climbed through the tiny door in the side and helped Juliet onto the deck. I looked back out the portal and saw David back on his cell and clearly not coming aboard. The young captain in the grey shirt and the protruding gut looked me over and asked me in Italian what I wanted to see. I understood him clearly but I was a bit preoccupied staring down into the engine room and seeing there was NO ENGINE! The captain assuming I did not speak Italian at that point asked me in decent English "what you want to see?" I told him in Italian, anything, I am a writer and want to talk about fishing boats in Le Marche (a small lie). He told me the boat was not working (no shit!) and then pointed to a man sitting on the railing. This man will show you around, he said.

I looked at the rustic and ruddy man smoking a cigarette and asked if I could take his photo. He obliged and then he put out the cig and I when I raised my camera again he broke into this somber pose. I told him my same lame story in Italian and he answered me "non capisce bene" (it/he/she does not understand good). I knew these guys spoke dialect but I had no idea that their Italian grammar would be this egregious. I heard the boat captain snicker and as I turned around to see him climbing off the boat he pointed his thumb at our new tour guide and said "he is Albanian".

My new Albanian buddy who spoke no English, bad Italian, and I am guessing only so-so Albanian began to lead us up to the bridge. He kept making sounds that I assumed were words and I turned on my best nods and enthusiastic wows, cools, and right...OKs. We climbed up into the bridge of this total shit boat and began to realize that if this was a fishing boat it was a damned nasty one. Could this ship have been for other purposes?

Fucking David was out there in his sporty clothes, cell phone, and elegance while Juliet and I were experiencing conditions not seen since the last boat people from Havana landed at Disney World.

We climbed down from the bridge and our smoky guide (who was also pretty damn dirty) said to me "Sono Albanese" , I am Albanian (another, NO SHIT!) Then he fired off "volet veder la coozheen?" Effectively, would you like to see the kitchen. I knew better, but I agreed.

As we rounded the corner from the main deck the Albanian suddenly realized the presence of the giant pornographic calendar on the wall of the galley. I could see the buxom blonde was big-bushed and air brushed as he carefully removed the calendar from the wall just as Juliet came into his view. Juliet feigned being fooled by our guide's gesture but she saw the photo and knew all too well that this boat would have been a lonely and oh so very sketchy place on the open seas. The soiled bed linens on the bridge bed were now all the more repellent and yet it got worse.

Notice the stacks of empty cheap cigarette boxes on the wall and the color of the wood wall underneath. Now look at the color of the wood in the kitchen. This was not bad lighting (although it was bad) this was layers of pure fish grease. As our man went into the kitchen he quickly grabbed what looked like a dog food bowl and turned to Juliet and me with an offer.

Pesce Freddo? (cold fish?) At this instant with the bowl of bony, cold, fried anchovies and other grubby little critters sitting in a pool of grease (not dissimilar to the oil pooled on the bottom of the engine housing) right in our faces, Juliet turned and without a word proceeded to exit the boat. "Juliet has left the fucking building" I thought as it was now only me, the chef, and this bowl of carcinogenic scales and tails. I actually would have rather licked the ashtray as I considered it far less likely to send waves of faux-ebola through my bowels.  When I did not immediately take a piece of the aging fish my guy began to toss them in his mouth like popcorn while pieces of flesh, skin, and bones popped and crunched in his open mouth chew and fell across his soiled t-shirt and onto the ancient layers of grime on the floor.

For some reason I still cannot explain I took the cleanest piece of anchovy I could find (not the smallest mind you) and slowly bit into it. It tasted immediately of cold ground meal, greasy in texture and less fishy than I imagined in taste. I could taste the last two days and I could see immediately where the boat had been. It was not a vision, it was real. I saw my guy cooking, while the occasional sailor took the calendar into the head and pressed his bare ass against the door to prevent hosting a show. I saw rotten vegetables cooked whole in their skins in the same pan where the fish were cleaned. I saw the captain take a look a into the cargo hold and siphon off a little of the poppy product and shoot his vein full while pressing the accelerator harder. As I chewed on my situation I thought of the sad parents in Albania and the goat milk cartons displaying artist renderings of their lost children who had made their way into Bavaria via this boat and now worked as sexy porn stars for German autocrats. I knew their was crime on this boat equal to its filth, but there was no crime greater than serving a stranger this filthy fucking fish. I tasted most of all the pain of this Albanian man and the misery in his soul for his crimes. He was likely younger than his looks I imagined and somewhere he had a mother who loved him and he very likely left someone to come on this boat. Now it was broken down in Italy, the cargo sold, and no way to get home. I swallowed the cold fish and knew I had likely just finished my first satanic communion when I changed the subject.

What is your job on this boat? I asked in Italian. He responded with a word to this day I cannot spell and will try to describe.."guhzzz" I tried numerous ways to phrase my question, both in English, Italian, and pantomime like shoveling, fishing out nets, driving, and cooking. He just kept saying "guhzzz". He led me through a hatch in front of the galley and once topside he pointed to anchors, ropes, and various other deck-hand shit and continued to say "Guhzzz" He then said "la barca e Albanese" The boat is Albanian...OK, so?

I climbed off the boat and waved goodbye to my Albanian Amico. I knew that if this was indeed a fisherman's life it was an awful one. I told David and Juliet the rest of the story where Juliet had likely left off and David asked that if I had to throw up on the drive to dinner that I please let him know and he would pull over so I would not vomit in his car. David and Juliet both thought that "Guhzz" was in fact Girls and that the guy was making a joke. I was not sure but I did see this photo today and perhaps this is "Guhzz"

I never got sick from the fish.  David told me that fishing is so competitive and that fish are mostly gone from the Adriatic so fishermen now have to go further and further with enormous fuel costs to find a catch. At the end of the day a life living in squalor aboard a boat might indeed be better than the alternative of no life whatsoever.

The Conclusion - On the way back to David's car I spotted this ancient auto in the lot and wondered which of the retired men who gather at the port owned this vehicle. A once noble Italian profession was now left to ambitious immigrants with little to lose and only stories to gain. In only 1 hour at this port in mysterious San Benedetto del Tronto  my memories of this experience carved their way into my Top 25 Italy Moments and all the way to #10.

tags: Le Marche, Stories, travel, Photography, The Blissful Adventurer, Michael Housewright, Juliet Housewright, food, humor, fishing, albania, Adventure
Friday 07.20.12
Posted by Sarah Finger
 

Haiku Sunday - Italy's Le Marche

This week's Haiku Sunday is an introduction to Italy's Le Marche region. This stunning region along the Adriatic Sea and held by the spiny Sybelline Mountains just west is one of the most compelling and least visited regions in Italy. This tip of the iceberg should get you all excited to visit. (Remember to click the photos to see full size)

Rolling wildflowers

along organic vineyards

make me smile quickly

Blue skies abounding

over a  seven sided

tower and no people

Looking back surprised

we only wanted to see

and not touch the goods

Invited to see

the world of a ship's crew was

squalor and still hope

He stood no taller

than a child of eleven

and made cheese daily

chilled but not cold

bracing then round offers a glimpse

into the soul of man

last night cheese in our hands

cool red wine from the glass jug

real discovery

tags: food porn, @Blissadventure, wine, travel, travel blog, Le Marche, Italy, Italian, juliet housewright
Sunday 06.24.12
Posted by Sarah Finger
 
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