Sicily - Lo Zinagaro (the most beautiful hike in Italy)

In Sicily we had been in cities and wineries for days and decided we must get outside. We decided to visit La Riserva Naturale Orientata dello Zingaro which turned out to provide one of the most compelling hikes of our lives.

Lo Zingaro as the locals call it is Sicily's first nature reserve and is one of the island's great success stories.

The tunnel above was built as part of a highway system that was to go along the coast here but in 1980 several thousand Sicilians marched on the site declaring their disdain for the highway project and for once the Italian government listened to Sicily and the area became a series of trails along the sea to stunning cove beaches below.

There is a north and a south entrance to the park and 9 kilometers of stunning hiking in between. Juliet and I were Colorado strong on this hike and went 6km in before turning back. Of course we stopped at a couple of beaches along the way to enjoy some sun and brisk water.

As we relaxed on the small stones of this sparsely populated cove we watched a father (an American) swimming with his 3 girls and exploring the rocks along the back right of this photo. As fate would have it, one of the girls was stung by a jellyfish (Medusa in Italian and a much more appropriate name).

I caught this photo of the father bringing the girls to shore. Juliet, being the always prepared nurse happened to have some Banadryl in her bag and I delivered the needed antihistamine to the family and discovered they had 2 more boys with them and all had come down from Frankfurt where Michael (yep, that's his name) was stationed in the US Marine Corps.

Of course the girl was fine and was splashing her hands and feet in the water within 15 minutes (probably just before she fell totally asleep) and we bid farewell to the family as the beach was invaded by local school-children and we hit a final beach on the way out of Dodge.

We drove back to Porto Palo that evening knowing we had seen one of the most beautiful places in all of Italy and Europe for that matter. Stories in hand, water being guzzled, and the Autostrada lulled us into a state of calm and ease we had not known for over 3 weeks. A truly Blissful Adventure!

THE BLISSFUL ADVENTURE MOVES TOMORROW!

Beginning tomorrow, TBA will be a self-hosted website :-)

In order to continue to receive emails about my posts please complete the Feed Burner Subscription below by clicking the link below and entering your email address to join my subscriber list.

Cheers Blissful Adventurers and we will see you on the other side!

Michael and Juliet Housewright

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Mt. Etna - Volcanoes, Vines, and the Holy Spirit

Mt. Etna -Volcanoes, Vines, and the Holy Spirit is a 3 part series on how I came to meet Salvo Foti, the preeminent voice on traditional (ancient) winemaking on Mt Etna. I am releasing my post now to celebrate Salvo's visit to San Francisco this week. Tune in tomorrow to learn where you can meet Salvo and taste his wines.

New roads in Sicily wreak havoc upon GPS systems. As a matter of fact, old roads do as well. In the 5 hours it took to reach Randazzo on the north slope of Mt. Etna from the southwestern town of Menfi there were no less than 5 dead ends due to construction of new highways and from old thoroughfares that simply ceased to exist. This was Sicily after all and if invading armies with the latest technology over the centuries failed to tame the roads of the Mediterranean’s largest island then what kind of chance did I expect with my discount Fiat Punto and a 2009 Garmin?

One island does not equal one place and on the slopes of Europe’s most active volcano a sense of place and belonging to it are the driving factors behind perhaps the most exciting wine scene since Thomas Jefferson wrote his supplier in Marseilles seeking a fine white Hermitage. Mt. Etna is home to some of Europe’s oldest grapevines, many predating the devastating phylloxera outbreak that ravaged the wines of France and Northern Italy over 100 years ago. It is these ancient vines buried in the mineral rich volcanic slopes of a fiery giant that have inspired a pilgrimage to create the next great wine.

Tasting the wines of longtime producers Gulfi and Benanti as well as newcomer Tenute delle Terre Nere I knew there was something brewing on the mountain as well as under it. I needed to see for myself what was truly happening on Etna and if wine could be produced from the light bodied and pale colored Nerello Mascalese  that was ageable,  with a sense of place,  and flavors that did not mirror or intend to mirror those of France’s burgundy as they have so often been compared.

I had worked in Sicily 6 years ago based in Taormina with Etna always looming in the distance. After my works and studies here I knew I would return. I did not know it would be for wine. I had lived with an amazing family in Taormina and my host father, Aurelio, would routinely open a plastic bottle of Etna Rosso he kept stored in the fridge to serve with dinner each night. The wine, while foxy (not tasting like wine made from wine grapes) cold, and not of high quality, somehow grew on me over nights of watching Italian “Who wants to be a Millionaire” and eating the most exquisite meals I remember vividly.

Every two or three days during my time in Taormina I would go out shopping and  bring home some fine bottle of famous Sicilian wine to share with the family at dinner. Each time I would, Aurelio would drink a quarter of a glass of my selection to be polite, then open the Etna Rosso made entirely from Nerello Mascalese he filled in bulk from a local co-op. When I began to see evidence of this grape sneaking into wine shops here in America I could not help but be bemused and quite skeptical. Was someone actually importing the moonshine I drank in Sicily to the US and how would they market it?

To my great and happy surprise I learned that Aurelio was simply being a humble and supportive citizen. There were many options for Etna based reds and he just happened to like the cheapest ones. The wines grown near Randazzo are another story altogether and at the end of a very frustrating drive I was ready to know why.

...To be continued

Part 2:

Mt. Etna -Volcanoes, Vines, and the Holy Spirit is a 3 part series on how I came to meet Salvo Foti, the preeminent voice on traditional (ancient) winemaking on Mt Etna. I am releasing my post now to celebrate Salvo’s visit to San Francisco this week. Salvo Foti will be pouring wine and discussing how he makes the magic this Saturday at Biondivino is San Francisco's Russian Hill neighborhood from 6-8PM. Come out and enjoy the wines and say hello to yours truly as well as the great Salvo Foti.

Part 2

I arrived at the charming hotel Parco Statella and visited briefly with their fine horses while a girl in a neighboring room rattled on in a language I would later come to find out was Georgian. After a bit I sent an arrival text to Salvo Foti, one of the most integral persons in the wine hierarchy of Mt Etna and as I would come to find out one of the most intelligent men I had met in many years.

Salvo arrived in a lived-in SUV with only 2 doors so my wife had to do the 1980s crawl over the seat belt to find her way to the back. Signore Foti is around 5’9” 155lbs, lean, and strikingly handsome. His grey hair would suggest he was over 50 but his youthful looks and svelte build indicate a much younger man. At first he appeared shy, although as I became more comfortable with my elementary Italian his obvious confidence and complete mastery of his own ideas came clearly to light.

The intended restaurant for the evening was closed on this day and Salvo suggested we see his home and enjoy some takeout pizza with him and his wife. In my 20 years living and working in Italy, I had never had takeout pizza that I did not eat right there on the street and certainly never with a family upon meeting them for the first time. Of course I should have known this would not be ordinary takeout. The pizza had cracker thin crust and the Fotis offered us giant capers from the island of Pantelleria and olive oil from 200-year-old trees to add to each slice as a compliment and an expression of Sicilian creativity and hospitality.

During the meal Salvo explained that his company I Vigneri  came from Maestranzi dei Vigneri. A vineyard workers guild founded in 1435 to protect the traditions of grape growing on Mt Etna. Over the course of the time on Etna, Salvo and his team would reference the men or simply I Vigneri almost hourly. The ancestors of modern men seemed to be held in reverence almost like war heroes. It was as if the soldiers of the vines watched over the work done today offering approval and guiding the hands of the current vigneri. While this borders on superstition, the faith that the team put into this philosophy of curation, set aside over 500 years ago, seemed to carry them through the very difficult tasks of vineyard management each day. The overarching belief is that the only way to make great wine was to create great grapes and the only way to do that (on Mt Etna) is to follow the path of the vigneri.

The following day I met Galen Abbott, an American who resides in Catania and oversees vineyards and a 19th century winemaking building called a Palmento; in this case, Palmento Santo Spirito, or winery(loosely) of the Holy Spirit. Galen is brash and straightforward with an honesty that is rare in such a sensitive world. I liked him immediately. Lean, bearded, and wearing what looked like the most comfortable blue suit made in Italy, it is uncommon to meet an American who gets Italy (specifically Sicily) and its people so intrinsically. Galen spoke Italian like a character from Italian cinema’s great period of neorealismo;and like watching a great film I found myself simply wanting to know what was next.

I must have asked him 5 questions a minute in the first 2 hours of knowing him, with each of his answers more compelling than the next. He told me he learned Italian by moving to Padua in northern Italy and locking himself in his room with works of Dante and reading them over and over till he perfected the language; and 6 months later emerged to become a bartender at a local dive. I wanted badly to disbelieve him and dismiss his tall tale as an impossibility or a cutting room scene from Rainman. After what transpired at dinner that night I had no choice but to accept I had met a man of rare linguistic talent.

...to be continued

Part 3:

Mt. Etna -Volcanoes, Vines, and the Holy Spirit is a 3 part series on how I came to meet Salvo Foti, the preeminent voice on traditional (ancient) winemaking on Mt Etna. I am releasing my post now to celebrate Salvo’s visit to San Francisco this week. Salvo Foti will be pouring wine and discussing how he makes the magic this Saturday at Biondivino is San Francisco’s Russian Hill neighborhood from 6-8PM. Come out and enjoy the wines and say hello to yours truly as well as the great Salvo Foti.

We walked all together through the vineyards at Palmento Santo Spirito and saw vines as old as 150 years resting next to new plantings. The cycle of life in Sicily is as clear as anywhere I have seen. Ancestral vines keeping watch over new ones managed by men following ancient rituals to the tune of making wine without the use of electricity. I assumed Salvo was kidding till he walked us through the dark and dank rooms of the Palmento and explained to us how the grapes are carried up the ramp by hand and into the lava stone pool where they are foot tread to break the skins and allow the juice and pulp to run free into the rock tank below. The temperature outside over 90 degrees while the stone and the vented windows keep the inside temps at 75 or less. This was how the Romans made wine said Salvo and yet they say what I am doing is illegal. Two thousand years of winemaking precedence cannot be wrong but the EU says it is illegal. I want to know so much more.

The Georgians met us at dinner. They were in town to bury a religious icon in the vineyards of a French wine distributor from the UK.  His wife, a former winemaker at the famous Solaia in Tuscany and her brother an aspiring winemaker himself from Australia who had interned with the enigmatic Frank Cornelissen were part of the crew that evening along with a contingent of the hardest working members of I Vigneri. We had all convened on Etna like some backroom episode of “Wine Fantasy Island” and Salvo was certainly our Mr Roarke.

We dived straight into a magnum of I Vigneri’s signature Etna Rosso, Vinupetra. It was compelling in its uniqueness and strangely familiar in its weight. This infant vintage was only recently bottled (by Vinupetra standards) and its youthful fruit and exuberant acid were a lovely spoil to the fresh Randazzo sausage on the grill. Galen and I drank like Americans and ate like Italians. Salvo says Galen never stops talking in either language. I laughed heartily when Salvo said Galen spoke Italian better than him and I smiled broadly when Galen affirmed this. Italian was not Salvo’s first language after all, it was Sicilian. After tasting the Vinupetra I am certain his second language was wine.

There were no sparks from the volcano on this night. The smell of sulfur wafted in and out of the air and I wondered if it was all from the volcano herself or was it the sulfur/copper mix sprayed minimally on the vines to prevent rot. The cool night air pushed me to drink more vigorously and I was so pleased to see the ubiquitous bottles of Coca-Cola absent from this Italian dinner. The Foti children have never had McDonald’s and do not get soft drinks. The ancient Vigneri would like this. They would want them to drink wine, to commune with strangers, and perhaps to indulge in the occasional smoke.

At the end of our pizza meal the night before Salvo asked my wife and me if we wanted  a cigarette. When we told him that we did not smoke, he simply asked “why not?” I had to ask myself this same question looking at a man 10 years my senior, in better health, more contented than I, and living with vines, volcanoes, and the Holy Spirit in his backyard.

Please visit us tomorrow evening with the wines of Salvo Foti at Biondivino in San Francisco

Montara State Beach - Haiku and Variations

Montara State Beach sits just north of the town of Half Moon Bay, California along the historic Pacific Coast Highway 1. Today's post is dedicated to a friend who I learned recently was severely injured in a fall and is fighting to regain the ability to walk. I hope the spirit imbues me with something cool today. This will not be strict Haiku so if you are a purist, you might want to leave now :-)

Scratching at the surface now

trying hard to understand how

so much that goes misunderstood

and why it leads to doubt

perhaps

that doubt is only in me

and I hope it is true

Shucks is a word

that should not have left so soon

the vernacular's spinning carousel

why is such a good word

gone from playgrounds

and school halls

aww shucks, jive my corn

and whittle me a new word

damn this battery

said the man with the apple

she sighed and kept painting

all alone we were

at the end of the afternoon

on this lovely stretch

no worries

while in other parts

there were big concerns

Indian music

Mexican food

Georgian wine

punitive measures

lying liars

food fights

fiction

and fucking

The Happiest Place in the World?

A boy on a rock

Just like that came the fog

Pelicans in Formation

Temperature Plummets

Day is Dusk

The wildest flowers

cannot for a moment

grasp the wildness

of the nearby sea

combers combing

for no reason but to comb

so many images from a day so unscripted

from a life so uncontrolled

Just as it came, the fog lifted

The hard work to endure the dark night of the soul

came just before the truth

The sea birds with their feet tapping

made me know it could be done

This was just temporary

This good and bad, dark and light

stuff we are made of.

We clamor so loudly and the surf and sand

mute us accordingly and appropriately

healing is as much a realization as it is

a conscious act of the will

Haiku Sunday - A Hipstamatic Move

This week's Haiku Sunday is a Hipstamatic Move across the West. It has been a bit since I featured this app and since documenting the journey from Colorado to California this week I felt it an appropriate time for the Haiku and Hipsta!

here he comes riding

lands that were once his now not

because he is now dead

call my agent said

the giant as he made the

valley in two strides

writhing about so

obviously and without

fear of consequences

Sail on Silver Girl

sail on by, your time has come

to shine...who is it?

she stabbed at the ropes

with a toothpick and real hope

free she bled him dry

The giant called again.

Yeah, so what? well, he is pissed and

threatened a boulder

“The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality.”

Dante

buried up in them hills

is a secret to knowing why all

secrets are not honest

strike strike strike nothing

the serpent fatigued asked the

man how he did it

That's really fucking hot!

We made it he said

double double animal style

shake and fries - goodbye!

The California Move

Balanced Rock - Colorado National Monument (not the only one on this trip)

 Colorado National Monument - The California Move Day 1 

Juliet and I recently moved from Colorado to California. In the spirit of adventure we decided to spend 5 days driving across the American West to experience red rock canyons, monoliths, Vegas, and

several national parks. Only Vegas failed to blow us away and in all honesty it never really had a chance. This drive and its story are told in our photos which make my best words on my best days seem

so insignificant. I highly suggest clicking on the images to see full size.

Colorado Canyon from the Car Window

As we descended the peaks of the Rockies in western Colorado we were greeted with scenes from the great Westerns of my youth. Even at 75 mph Juliet was able to capture what it looks like when Mountain slide off the end of the earth.

Vista from Colorado National Monument

Colorado National Monument is a place rather than a thing. We had no idea what it was and decided to enter the park on a lark. The amazing things to see here should be on everyone's list; however, we seemed to have the entire place to ourselves.

Tunnel - Colorado National Monument

Climbing at a steady and significant pace from the vista point we enjoyed driving through the center of the monumental red rocks.

Fallen Rock Wall - Colorado National Monument

Coming out the other side we see what remains of a once solid wall of rock that encircled this canyon.

Cloud Patterns - Colorado National Monument

At the visitors center we were treated to a series of compelling cloud patterns that always bring us joy.

Clouds in Black and White - Colorado National Monument

Independence Monument - Colorado National Monument

The geological highlight was of course the spectacular Independence Monument. If you would like another view of its enormity check my Facebook photo here

Desert Bighorn Sheep - Colorado National Monument

Imagine our excitement to see these amazing desert bighorn sheep up close and personal. We lived in Colorado over 1 year and sought the company of sheep on numerous occasions, never finding them till our last hour in the state. What a beautiful parting gift.

Our First Utah Sunset

As we crossed the state line on our way to Moab, Utah Juliet captured this stunning final image from our first day.

Stay tuned tomorrow for Moab and Arches National Park

Our Bikes Enjoyed the Ride

Arches National Park - The California Move Day 2

We drove into Moab, Utah under the cover of darkness the night before then ate a typically awful American-Italian meal with poor wine. I refused to set an alarm assuming I would awaken at 6 to begin our photo tour of Arches National Park.

When I finally looked at the clock it was after 7 and I knew we had to scramble for good light and acceptable temperatures. Juliet and I assumed the park would be cool and interesting. It was in fact far beyond our expectations and we know we will return for a much deeper exploration in the coming years.

The Opulent Streets of Park Avenue

One of the first natural masterpieces in the park is the area called Park Avenue. The rock formations look like shadowy buildings along empty streets and if the namesake street looked like this I am pretty sure I would be pleased to live as a beggar along the boulevard.

Monolithic Red Rocks

These kinds of formations are abundant in the park and actually become easy to ignore. I refused to get beauty fatigue as each of these monoliths have worked for millions of years on their performance and all deserve a respectful study.

Delicate Arch

The compelling arch that draws most people to the park is Delicate Arch. Our tardy awakening forces us to skip the hike to its base (as we had a long drive ahead of us) and so I did the best I could with the zoom. If you click to enlarge you can see the miniature people moving about the arch area.

Schmee

Juliet representing NOVO coffee in the ANP!

Landscape Arch

The light on this morning made it tough to get a shot that did not camouflage the arch a bit and I could not get my aperture setting to allow me to get a foreground person in the shot for reference. This arch is actually quite enormous - some 60 feet across and a 60 ton piece crashed to ground there around 15 years ago so people are not allowed to get under the arch now. I have an iPhone shot that will make a later post that I think is more illustrative of its size.

Balanced Rock (I told you there would be more)

The famous balanced rock of Moab is a bit different from the previous day's in Colorado National Monument. This one reminds me of some cartoon educational character from my youth. The shot from the opposite side is better I believe but the light would not grant that luxury on this morning.

Balanced Rock to Scale

This place rocks!

TBA in Ghost Rock Canyon, Utah

Our drive out of Utah provided us with another exceptional surprise as we pulled off the highway to find the badlands of Ghost Rock Canyon. This is where Butch Cassidy supposedly hung out and if so he was much more of a bad ass than the film depicted.

Tree View of Ghost Rock Canyon

As always Juliet sees something in a way I could not and it is just compelling on film. What a way to exit Utah!

stay tuned tomorrow for "No Fear and Plenty of Loathing in Las Vegas"

Las Vegas - The California Move Day 3

The 4th time was not the charm for me and Las Vegas, NV. I basically have no use for the place and I wanted to bring Schmee with me to see if it was me or if she would validate my general disdain for the place.

I have many friends who love Vegas and I am sure they are the same friends who love Cabo, or The Pink Palace, or tents at golf tournaments. There is something wonderful to some people about cavorting about all knowing that self-imposed rules are being broken and that somehow makes it OK.

I tend to live my life with fewer rules and far fewer burdens of duty than many so to me Vegas just seems like a bit of a shithole. So much so that most of my photos are haphazardly shot which I think was a subconscious act of defiance and to illustrate just how depraved the whole place is.

A Classic Skullet and Banded Collar Shirt

Take our would be Tim McGraw here. He broke out his finest 10 thread count banded collar shirt from the depths of his closet, gelled back that ratty tail and polished the empty nest to channel St Francis as he put his last 3 missing child support checks down on the Blackjack table. He figures he ain't leavin here till he makes 6 months of trailer payments and has at least one run-in with a working tranny.

What a Town...or is it?

This is actually the inside of the Venetian hotel where they have an actual canal and gondoliers. One of which I recognized from Venice (no kidding) and he was singing a song that disparaged the people around him. I wanted so much to record him as I loved his voice and his sad message. Basically it was look at all these sad people in this sad place and I am the saddest one of them all. I think that was actually me.

There is also a Paris hotel in Vegas and I wonder how many people come here who have never been to Paris or Venice and blow more money than it would take them to go to the actual places themselves rather than the faux examples on the strip.

Of course, I have many sommelier friends who work or have worked here and it helps them get their careers going and gets them a real head start on their own personal study of cirrhosis.

I have lots of wine and dine friends who come here to laud about the wondrous meals and I think, why not just go to New York, San Francisco, or London? Hell, go to Hong Kong. I went to one very average steak dinner and drank decent wine and it was 4 bills for 2 of us. I wanted to hang myself in the morning but that was a $75 convenience charge and I would have to tip the hangman a 10 spot.

Civilization

Thank God for breakfast at Bouchon. The room and the food were classy. The service was substandard by Keller expectations but was at least friendly. I wanted to simply stay in my seat till I had to leave the following day.

Something wonderful I Could Afford

I get weepy thinking of this buttery goodness.

The Culinary Star of the City

The other real treasure in Vegas is the spectacular Thai restaurant Lotus of Siam. It is not on the strip nor opulent. However, it is the most interesting Thai cuisine I have ever eaten and the wine list blew my mind. The menu has all the ubiquitous Thai dishes as well as some killer things from Northern Thailand. If I was not already excited about our trip to Thailand in March, after dining here I was ecstatic.

A Proper Riesling

This was one of three great Rieslings we consumed with our meal at LOS. I have been singing the praises of this place ever since we left Vegas and it is most definitely the lasting image I choose to keep in the memory banks of our time in this hot, nasty, lascivious city.

If you are curious, Schmee hated the place..I mean really hated it

stay tuned tomorrow for Death Valley, California 

Death Valley - The California Move (Day 4)

We entered California from a small highway in Nevada and at freeway speed Juliet captured this enormous welcome sign bringing us happily to our new state of residence.

Not long after we were in Death Valley and ready to explore (already 85 degrees at 9am)

For some reason as a kid I was a huge weather geek. I loved watching the weather with Harold Taft on Channel 5 News in Dallas. Death Valley was always the hottest place in the country and I hoped one day to see it and understand.

I expected the heat but had no idea how beautiful and captivating the landscape would be. Looking out over the Inferno like Dante and Schmee was my Virgil.

The bright blues, pink, tan, and every shade of brown dance about this rugged land and inspired one to stay so long as they can take the heat.

What is going on with Schmee's hair? I love the sparse clouds above teasing the salt flats below that it might one day rain.

The rolling earth here is caused by "I have no idea since it was too hot to patiently read the sign"

After living for a year over a mile high this was some welcomed pressure and O2

I also really like Sand Dunes. When I was a kid I would thumb through the pictures in my grandmother's bible and there were shots of sand deserts near the Holy Land. They always looked so soft and inviting. This sand dune was 109 degrees by the time we arrived, rattlesnake signs in every corner and Euro douche traipsing about and calling out to one another like henchman scenes from the first Die Hard movie.

tomorrow - Yosemite National Park

Yosemite - The California Move (Day 5)

Our fifth day began with a drive from the Mammoth Lakes ski resort where we relaxed the night before to the compelling Mono Lake in Lee Vining, CA. This mysterious sky was our introduction to a beautiful land.

There was a rescue helicopter making passes in this valley along the Tioga pass road. After a year in Colorado we were very familiar with these roads and we were hoping the copter was only there for training and not to fetch some poor souls who were not as familiar with these types of drives.

After having seen 3 other national parks along our drive I think we began to experience a little NP fatigue. Couple that with our mutual disdain for crowds and traffic, then Yosemite becomes a bit of a pain in the culo. We did manage to grab a few shots and enjoy what we saw of the park yet we jetted through because we knew we would return here one day (not just after labor day)

Likely the most famous of Yosemite's rock formations, Half Dome, viewed from the back at the stunning Olmstead Point.

The mysterious clouds stayed with us on this day as we lit out for our final few hours to the Bar Area and our new home in Palo Alto.

Juliet nabbed this shot as I white knuckle drove through the Bay Area traffic getting closer to home. We were likely at 75 mph when she got this shot and our filthy oily windshield makes the goofy aurora on the bottom right of the shot.

We made it! Our new home and our new neighbors giving us a big thumbs up for our arrival and our bad ass journey through the American West!

Coming soon - Images from a new life