Beautiful Bavaria has much to offer

Leavenworth is a city in Western Washington that successfully rebuilt itself from a dying ex-logging town into a thriving faux Bavarian tourist attraction—one that Lucy and I enjoy visiting at least once a year. But as a change of pace, last week we visited the real thing, a Bavarian village on the edge of the Alps in Southern Germany.

Taken from the resort above Schliersee,
which we reached by cable car.

How can I describe Schliersee, a village about the size of Leavenworth but 100 percent authentic Bavarian? I could say that Schliersee is about equal to Leavenworth x 4. The mountains are taller. More buildings are decorated with paintings of Bavarian themes. Roofs are of red tile instead of composite shingles. And, of course, all the signs are in German and everyone speaks German. I’m not saying that the people of Leavenworth have done a poor job of creating an imitation Bavarian village. Quite the contrary. It’s just that one can only go so far in blending the cultures of two regions, and being in an true Bavarian village is an experience that can’t be equaled.

Extreme Bavarian theme.

What did we like best about our week-long getaway? Our favorite experiences were taking a cable car above the city for a great view of the lake and village below, and then riding down on a kind of mini roller coaster with individual four-wheeled sleds in a winding chute. A lever allowed us to control our velocity. We also visited a living museum that shows how people in the Alps lived and worked in centuries past. At the Markus Wasmeier Open-Air Museum, we saw restored wooden buildings, traditional farm animals, costumed workers and craftsmen sealing barrels with hot resin for their still active brewery. We strolled through Schliersee and along the lake shore, visited two ski resorts and hiked to two waterfalls. We took a scenic ride in a small but very modern commuter train that runs up the valley to the farthest village in the valley, Bayrischzell.

We lodged in the classy Karma Bavaria, a hotel that has a partnership with Wyndham, so room costs were covered through our Worldmark membership. We visited the spa, sauna and weight room regularly, and Lucy and I competed in a friendly game of 9-pin bowling in the game room. Perhaps the best part is that we were able to combine our vacation with a visit from Lucy’s cousins, Eduard and Els Bonnist (brother and sister) who are second cousins once removed. Eduard and Els drove down from their homes in Amsterdam and also lodged in the Karma.

Will we come back again? Probably not. Our lives are already split between Gig Harbor and Montecarlo, and we don’t need the complication of adding another country. It’s enough of a challenge trying to develop and maintain friendships while living in two different countries, not to mention that we’re still learning Italian. In addition, the whole time we kept thinking how much Bavaria reminds us of our own beautiful Western Washington, with its snow-capped mountains, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, hiking trails, and yes, even its own Bavarian village—which, by the way, will have an alpine roller coaster and climbing wall opening this summer. And we’ve already booked eight days in Leavenworth at our Worldmark condo with our family this June.

We get a two-for-the-price-of-one experience at the Pontedera Cineplex

Every once in a while, we get the urge to go out to a movie, and today was one of those days. We usually prefer American movies that have been dubbed into Italian, because the voices are clear and free of dialect. We have nothing against Italian movies, but the film makers want them to be authentic, so many of the characters have regional dialects. It is already hard enough for us to follow the dialogue even when the characters speak clear and plain standard Italian.

We also prefer movies that have quite a bit of action with uncomplicated conflicts between the characters, so Creed 3 was a perfect choice. The website of the Pontedera Cineplex said that today only, at 4:30 p.m., the movie would even be shown in English with Italian subtitles, so we’d be able to completely relax and enjoy the film. I felt a bit guilty that we wouldn’t be practicing our Italian listening skills, but the timing was perfect, as we are currently enjoying a mini-vacation in a condominium in Colleoli, just 20 minutes from the cineplex.

We’ve noted before that movies are not a very popular form of entertainment here, and thus we weren’t surprised to find that we were the only two people in the theater—not the first time this has happened. Once the movie started, we noted right away that there were no subtitles and the film was in Italian, not English. I went out and let the cineplex personnel know, and soon the lights came on and the film stopped. After about five minutes, a very apologetic employee came in and said the projectionist couldn’t figure out how to show the English version. No problem, we said, we’ll just watch in Italian, and we did just fine; the dialogue was not overly complex, and the movie was well done. Plus, we were given free tickets for another movie as compensation.

We had a memorable encounter some years ago when we were once again the only two people at an afternoon showing of Son of Mask, this time in Arezzo. The movie was pretty bad, and when it was only two thirds done, the film stopped and all the lights went on. We waited for about ten minutes, and then someone came in and told us it was over. We argued for a bit, because even though we couldn’t understand all the dialogue, it was obvious that the plot hadn’t reached the climax. But then we considered how awful this movie was (later I found out it received eight nominations for Golden Raspberry Awards, including worst sequel, worst actor and worst director), and we decided to go. On the way out, we mentioned that the film wasn’t over, but we didn’t mind leaving anyway. Again we were told that it really had finished. No, we said, it didn’t, but it was OK. Just as we got to the door, the manager came hurrying up to us and said, yes, we were correct, the film wasn’t over. He was sorry, please, we must go back and watch the rest. We didn’t want him to think we were upset, so we returned to watch the rest. After all, how could the theater personnel live with themselves if they thought that they had offended 100% of their afternoon customers?

Our first real Pasquetta in Tuscany

Boating on the Padule on Pasquetta.

For the majority of the past 12 years, Lucy and I have celebrated Easter Sunday while in Tuscany—but this is the first time we really participated in Pasquetta, an important Italian tradition celebrated on the day following Easter. Pasquetta—literally “little Easter”—is a civil holiday, with little of a religious nature. However, some maintain that it is celebrated with an almost religious fervor because it is so deeply ingrained in the culture. Traditionally, it is a day for Italian families to venture into the countryside for a day of picnics and outdoor fun. Most factories and stores are closed, though many restaurants remain open.

The reason we’ve not celebrated Pasquetta is that our family here consists of just Lucy and me. True, I have a large extended family in Tuscany, but Pasquetta celebrations usually involve the nuclear family. My closest relatives are third cousins, and even then, I’ve only known them for a few years, so we’ve never really been involved in this important tradition beyond watching families meander down the picturesque streets of Montecarlo.

The difference this year is that we went to an advertised event called Pasquetta in Padule at the Casotto del Sordo near Massarella. Because of my affection for the Padule di Fucecchio, I had ridden my bike to the Casotto del Sordo about a week ago, not really knowing what to expect. To me, it had basically been just a dot on the map on the edge of the Padule. I have since learned that this little shack was built in 1923 by a man who had returned badly injured from World War 1. Among his injuries, he had lost his hearing and had been given the nickname Il Sordo, meaning “the deaf.” Now the Casotto is managed by an association of hunters, fishermen, landowners and local residents concerned with maintaining and improving the ambiance of the Padule. This swamp had once been a vital source of sustenance for the community, but in the later 1900s, it became somewhat of a dumping ground. Now there are several associations committed to cleaning it up and helping the public understand its importance to the ecosystem.

The Association Il Padule sponsored the Pasquetta event, which included food, drinks, scenic walks and boat rides. The group has built several other buildings adjoining the Casotto that were used for the preparation and sale of the food, and members have also added a covered outdoor eating area with picnic tables and benches. When we arrived in mid-afternoon, the parking lot was nearly full, and some 200 people were picnicking, lounging in the grass, playing football and volleyball, walking on the shores of the Padule, and lining up for rides in the barchini, which are small boats piloted by members of the association. Lucy and I took a stroll down to the canal while we watched ducks swimming and a number of large white and gray birds flying by. I wish I could say what the birds were, but I’m not great at recognizing bird species, especially in a country where I was not raised.

Not my photo, but this is a Pittima Raela,
taken in the Padule. Photo by Enrico di Gregorio.

I read online that bird watchers and biologists performed a study of the Padule during Covid times. I used Google to translate a portion of the report: “39 species were recorded (a true biodiversity record) for a total number of 12,783 birds, among which the Alzavole (6,012) stand out, the rare Ibis (234), the Pavoncella (1455) and the Moriglione (749). There have been sightings of rare species such as the Bittern, the White Stork, the Spoonbill, the Flamingo and the Ferruginous Duck, and for the first time a small group of wintering night herons was also found (25).” Most of these birds are not found where I grew up in Western Washington, so I don’t feel so bad for not recognizing them.

Ciaccini and espresso

We did not pay for a boat ride this time, but it is now on our list for future adventures. We did sample a very regional snack named ciaccini, something we’ve never heard of before. I spoke to one of the volunteers, who confirmed that while it exists in other regions, it would be called something else. A ciaccino consisted of a very thin and round slice of fried dough, about the size of a pancake, seasoned with salt, olive oil and perhaps a few spices. For 3 euro, we each received two ciaccini affettato (with finely sliced prosciutto between them). Probably the most enjoyable part of the afternoon was the people-watching we did while eating and enjoying our tiny cups of espresso—old men standing close together while swapping tales; men, women, boys and girls playing calcio; little boys beating stalks of bamboo with wooden sticks; families dining and boating together; girls running and screaming; couples walking hand-in-hand. I have little doubt that we were the only non-Italians in the group, and that’s just fine with us. This is why we come here—to experience the Italian lifestyle that exists far from the touristy cities. For us, now, Pasquetta is more than just a word.

Day trip to Pesciatina Svizzera: A favorite activity worth repeating

Someday I need to write a complete blog or even a magazine article about the Valleriana and the 10 castle cities located there, but for today, a brief mention will have to do. This valley, also called Pesciatina Svizzera because of its resemblance to the Swiss Alps, draws us back again and again. It is especially appealing to visit on a clear day like today.

Historically referred to as Valle Ariana but later shortened to Valleriana, the valley rises up from an elevation of about 200 feet above sea level in Pescia to the highest town of Pontito at 2,444 feet. At various places along the way, one can view many of the picturesque cities, also called castles because most cities were walled during medieval times, and the entire city was referred to as a castle. Before today, Lucy and I had only visited three of the cities, but now we’ve added a fourth to the list, Castelvecchio.

We picked up our friends Kjetil and Laila around 11 a.m. and arrived in Castelvecchio a little before noon. We took a step back in time while taking a half hour stroll through the sloped and slanted stone streets, admiring red tiled roofs, an amazing variety of doors—both ancient and modern—and the patchwork stone and brick walls of homes built mostly between 1300 and 1900. We saw tidy homes with neatly kept yards scattered among homes and yards that were crumbling ruins. The most recent census shows 146 inhabitants, but one can imagine that during better times the city housed up to 1,000 residents, many of whom went out of the city during the daytime to hunt in the woods, gather chestnuts or work in their hillside farms.

Some traveled even farther down the valley to work in the numerous paper mills that were powered by the current of the river Pescia. Production of paper in this area began in the late 1400s and reached its peak in the 1800s because of the valley’s strategic location near both the mountains above and thriving centers of commerce such as Lucca, Pistoia, Montecatini and Florence on the plains below.

Of the cities we’ve visited, we can’t really pick a favorite. They’re all fabulous, really. Pontito is the highest and one of the least populated (50 inhabitants), so if you want to see a particularly peaceful and weather-worn village, it’s the place to go. Vellano is the largest, with a population around 270, and it has the most activity, including a mining museum, a popular annual festa to celebrate chestnut snacks, and the highly regarded Trattoria Manero. We’ve also been to San Quirico, population 200, which is no less interesting and beautiful than the others.

Pontito taken from below.

I forgot my camera in the car, but Kjetil took some great photos, and I have borrowed some to post here. After our stroll, we went to La Pieve, one of my personal favorite restaurants. It has a pranzo di lavoro, in which customers can enjoy a complete lunch for 13 euro (prior to Covid, it was only 11 euro). Though relatively remote, the place was packed, more so today than other times we’ve dined here. Despite the crowd, service was prompt. We enjoyed a leisurely meal in good company. And with six more castle cities to explore in the coming years, we’ll surely be back for more sightseeing and dining pleasure.

Pranzo at La Pieve.

Another encounter with the carabinieri

My plan to avoid getting my Italian driver’s license was put to the test today—the second time this has happened. Coming back from church in Altopascio, we were waved to the side of the road by two impeccably attired and stone-faced carabinieri. I knew what they wanted: documents for my identity and the car’s registration papers.

Normally when we have a car here, it’s from a rental agency, but this time we are using a car loaned by our friend Simone and Luciano, his dad. Luciano spends much of his time out of the country, so his car would otherwise be sitting in a dank garage. We can attest to that because that’s where it was when Simone took us to pick it up, with some white mold starting to bloom on the leather fixtures. Of course, we’ve cleaned that off and given the car a good airing. We had previously planned to get by for most of our stay with just our bikes this spring, but the car has been a real Godsend. After all, just because we’re in Tuscany doesn’t mean that it’s never cold and rainy.

Rolling down the window and unfastening my seatbelt, I pulled out my wallet and handed over my Washington state driver’s license and my international permit while speaking mostly in English. I had to fumble through the pile of papers in the glove box to find the car’s registration papers, but I found them with only a short delay. I should also have been carrying my American passport, but I told the carabiniere I had left it in my room, which is the truth. While he went back to his car, presumably to do a computer check on the car and write up a report, I had Lucy pull up on her phone the document Simone had sent us granting permission to use the car. As the officer walked back to us, perhaps to ask why I was driving a car owned by someone else, I held up the phone so he could read it. Then he went back to his car and added more to his report.

After another couple of minutes, he handed me back my license and said all was okay, crossing his chest to indicate that I should refasten my seat belt. Only as we pulled away did he give us a slight smile. I was last pulled over in 2017, and the routine was much the same, only that time I had a rental car and the carabinieri were a little more chatty, although just as efficient and professional as the ones we dealt with today.

You may wonder why I spoke of a plan to avoid getting an Italian license. Well, it’s a big deal for people who have sold their homes in America to live in Italy full time. Legally, they have only one year to get an Italian license, and that can be a daunting task. The tests, both written and verbal, are conducted entirely in Italian. I have the advantage of only living here for a few months at a time, meaning I can keep my U.S. license current and pass as a tourist. For a more detailed explanation of the legal situation, you can read the details of my traffic stop in 2017: Stopped by the Italian police.