Part 2

On 18 October, we decided to not bother with trying to find a safe space to stash our luggage and just went to the farm in the morning instead of late afternoon like we'd planned. Also, I think the city was wearing us out and we needed to escape. The train ride from Firenze to Pontedera was easy, but the bus ride from Pontedera to Chianni was difficult. We had to contend with the Italian word for “switch” (coincidenza), which we hadn't encountered before. Traveling to a small village on a Sunday (when public transportation all but shuts down) is a pain. We made it, bumbling through the transfers with our usual American panache, which is to say, lots of hand gestures and mis-communication with conductors.

Monday was spent working the olive trees. Our host didn't want to start harvesting because there were weather forecasts of rain later in the week, so we spent the day doing maintenance. I was working with the small trees, replacing the worn or missing ties that were holding the trees straight against wooden poles. I think olive trees would rather be tangled olive bushes, so the plants have to be trained against poles. Josh was once again pitted against his old enemy, the evil thorn bush. Which is to say, he was cutting down weeds.

Tuesday morning we seeded 330 lbs of beans over the field. Ilaria, our host, wants to get more nitrogen into the soil. I have no idea how well this particular tactic will work, but it made me think of my high school American history class and George Washington Carver. We had the afternoon off and our hosts convinced us to visit Volterra. Knowing nothing about this town, we set off. The mountain top upon which Volterra is situated has apparently been continuously inhabited for the last 3000 years. We picked up a map from the tourist office, which contained a brief history of the city. My favorite line is, “One of Volterra's last historical events, the revolt against the Florentine Republic, took place in 1530.” The town certainly looks like a place where nothing has changed in the last 500 years: narrow, cobblestone streets between rows of medieval, stone buildings. It has apparently been a center for alabaster production during this whole time. Every other store front was a place selling alabaster carvings, from chintzy mass produced tourist crap to artists' workshops with sculptures selling for thousands of euros. There were also a couple of cool sounding museums, but we were constrained by the bus schedule and didn't have time to check any of them out.

On Wednesday the bad weather arrived and our hosts said we had the day free. A new wwoofer joined us Tuesday evening and the three of us traveled up to Lucca, a medieval walled town about 20 km northwest of Pisa. Once again we were constrained by an awkward public transportation schedule that meant we spent about as much time traveling to and from Lucca as we spent actually inside the town. It looked like a really cool town with some really cool museums, but we didn't have the time to devote to them. I would love to get back to Lucca, armed with an itinerary and a map, to see what the city has on offer. The walls were especially neat, well preserved and with a tree-lined walking path on top that circles the old city. Our next farm is close by, so I think we will have the opportunity to try again.

On a final note, we found a wonderful bookstore in Lucca with a decently sized English language section. The largest and cheapest book for sale was Joyce's Ulysses. Even small trade paperbacks start at the equivalent of $16 and go up from there. Large paperbacks sell for $30 or $40 each, which is ridiculous. For those prices, it's a wonder that anyone in this country reads at all. Ulysses is a large book, but it was selling for around $17, so I bought it. Why not? Owing to its dense and complicated nature, it will probably last me until the end of this trip. Seems like a $17 well spent.

More pictures!

The wall around Lucca.

A cool lion with a big mouth.
Lucca's buildings all look like they are bearing silent witness to centuries of changing architectural whims. This one is particularly egregious.
Ruins of an amphitheater from Volterra. It was hard to get a good picture of the whole thing, but this is my best try.
A peek into an alabaster workshop.

Now on to writing all the postcards I've promised people...