One last taste

We were scheduled to depart from Il Poeta today, but it’s the sun is shining, Antonella is cooking and we can’t bring ourselves to pack. We decide to extend our stay.
First, I force Brett to bring me to the self-service laundry again. I know I know…towns to explore, food to eat, people to meet, but I like clean clothes.
With only a day left in Tuscany, it wasn’t easy to choose the next place to explore. There are wine tours, but driving an SUV on single lane roads sober is risky enough. I was rooting for a folk craft museum, but their hours don’t begin until after Easter.
We drove to the mountains of Mugello, original home of the Medici family. There are 2 Medici palaces in the town of Scarperia, where they are known for making hand-crafted knives. To be honest, I was not a happy tourist at the Medici palace/knife museum. Winding our way to the town, we had passed a terrible car accident. My stomach was not ready for the bravado of butchering, weapons and surgery. I went to a park and sat on the bench. The children played. If you decide to pass this way, it seemed a good town to get a haircut- very sharp scissors.
By evening, my stomach was ready for another Tuscan feast and good conversation. Our dinner-mates were native Italians from Bologna. They are 28 and remind me a little of my cousin and his wife. He talks about soccer- as a fan he shaved his head and jumped in the ocean when his team won. His wife explains each dish as it is brought to the table and how it is prepared…adding at times “my grandmother would prepare this with…” Their English is perfect. “Of course, it is required to speak at least English if you want a good job. Most of the companies are multi-national.” As nice as it is to talk with them, the thought of homogenized language is disturbing. They explained the various dialects used throughout Italy. Even as Italians, they may be treated as strangers or tourists in Naples or Venice.
They are very fond of Spain. This is the second hearty endorsement for a country we plan to skip, so I am taking notes…believe it or not…for another trip in the near future. France- check. Spain-check.
We savor Antonella & Riccardo’s feast, very, very sad that it will be our last for this trip. Part of the meal is cooked on the open fire- we are a little toasted ourselves, enjoying the Chianti and walnut liquor. The cats are allowed in the room after dinner and we talk about schools, language and traveling. DD6 is falling asleep in the rocking chair- it’s 11:00p.m. “In Spain, it would be time to start our meal!” If we have to move on, better North than South.