Finding my voice: From tourist to translator at a Tuscan paper museum

I so admire the people who can translate a rapid-fire speech on the fly, and I’ve always wished that I could do the same. One would think that after living in Italy for three months a year for 14 years, I’d be able to do this, but I haven’t been up to the task. Until this past Saturday. Well, sort of.

Lucy and I went to the Museo della Carta di Pescia, a museum dedicated to preserving the centuries-old craft of handmade paper. Our group leader, Gina Natucci, had arranged a special tour that included a paper-making demonstration led by a true “Master of Paper,” Alessio. Since the demonstration required a native Italian speaker, someone needed to translate for the group. I took a deep breath and stepped up.

This shows a portion of the giant hammers powered
by a water wheel that were used to pound on old
rags soaked in water. Eventually, this turned the
rags into a fibrous pulp used to make paper.

And I did it! As Alessio guided us through the historic building, explaining the function of each intricate machine, I found a rhythm, turning his Italian explanations into English. A couple of times I had to pause and ask him to clarify a term, but to the American group, I hope I appeared perfectly competent.

I must taper my celebration just a bit. The task was made infinitely easier by the visual aides. It was one thing to know that a martello is a hammer, a ruota a wheel, and a stampa a press; it was another to have Alessio pointing right at them as I spoke. The magnificent, hulking machines did much of the heavy lifting for me.

Alessio dipped a special screen into
a vat filled with pulp and skillfully
removed it, magically creating a
perfect piece of paper, complete with
a watermark from the screen.

I’m still keenly aware that I can’t translate a complex sermon on theology or a political speech. I know this because I often try to translate in my mind and find myself stumbling when the speaker expresses an idea I only partly grasp myself. In those moments, I’m secretly relieved nobody has put me on the spot. But for today, I’m going to pat myself on the back for a successful first flight.

The museum itself is a fascinating window into an industry that once defined this region. As Alessio explained, the Valleriana—the valley above Pescia—was once home to more than 25 paper factories. The area was perfectly suited for this industry, with a stream providing hydraulic power and warm valley breezes for drying the paper sheets. Today, many of the old mill buildings still stand, though only three are still in production. Others have been converted into homes and hotels, while some stand as silent, empty monuments to a bygone era.

After creating the pages, Alessio
squeezed out much of the water
in this press.

Our tour began in a multimedia room with a 3D model of the four-story building, where Alessio explained the function of each level: the ground floor for collection and conversion of the fibers to a pulp and creating a raw form of the paper, another for gluing, trimming and other refinements, one for the workers’ quarters and the upper floor for drying. From there, we walked through the historic rooms where Alessio gave us a hands-on demonstration. Using cotton fibers, he masterfully created four new sheets of paper, showing us how they were pressed to remove water and then hung to dry. The final stage, he explained, would be applying a special glue to give the paper strength before a final drying.

If You Go:

·      The Museo della Carta di Pescia is well worth the price of admission.

·      Location: Via Mammianese Nord nn. 229-231, Pietrabuona, Comune of Pescia, Province of Pistoia.

·      Hours: Open Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.

·      Cost: €12 for a tour with the director, €15 for a tour with a paper master (like Alessio). Reduced prices are available for students and seniors.

·      Here is a link to the website, which also has an English version: Museo della Carta di Pescia.

The paper mill included a number of skilled craftsmen besides paper makers, including a clever engineer/mechanic who created this unique machine to turn paper into envelopes. The vats to hold the water were hand carved out of large boulders of a local rock called pietra serena.

 

 

A perfect fall day hike, but it may be even better on a hot summer day

We’ve discovered a little-known trail along in the Valleriana—the verdant valley above Pescia—that makes me dream of being in Tuscany in the full unyielding heat of summer. The trail once was a mule route stitching together the villages of Sorana and Castelvecchio. The footpath, which occasionally yields to marshy, spring-fed patches, meanders under a dense, dappled cathedral of chestnut, beech, and oak trees. It faithfully follows the murmur of the Torrente di Pescia da Pontito, a lively creek whose course guides you to the skeletal remains of an ancient mill and its crumbling stone bridge.

Torrente di Pescia da Pontito

Lucy and I were the informal guides to a group of six American tourists staying in Montecatini with my cousin and friend Gina Natucci. We had been gifted a truly perfect autumn morning, bathed in the kind of crisp, golden light that seems to exist only in Italy. We had to hop across large stones to cross the torrente three times to reach the pools and lower turbine of the mill, a hike of about 20 minutes. We found small waterfalls emptying into several pools that measured a depth of about ten feet. Someone had moved some large flat stones, probably left over from the active days of the mill, to form two tables and several chairs that could be put into service for a picnic lunch.

Me with new friend Jaxson

We enjoyed watching the rushing water turn from blue to frothy white while it tumbled down the green valley. We explored the ruins of the mill and watched fingerlings skitter about in the calm pools. We were dressed for hiking and not swimming, but I couldn’t help but think what a terrific place this would be on a 90-degree summer day. While we usually avoid Tuscany during the sweltering summer months, even late spring and early fall can be uncomfortably hot. The valley, trees and rushing water would help cool the air, and if we were still too hot, that could easily be remedied by wading or even soaking in the pools. Very few tourists or even locals spend much time in this sparsely populated valley that is also known as Svizzera Pesciatina, so-called because of a well-known Swiss economist who said it reminded him of the environs of his family home.

From what I can determine, there was a water turbine inside the hollow area of this bridge.

I’ve read that there is another turbine, a small dam and one or two footbridges that we could have seen if we had continued upstream, but we had a schedule to keep; it also appeared that the trail became more difficult at this point. I’ll find them next time. Lucy and I will definitely be back, but hopefully with shorts, a picnic lunch, a blanket and good book—maybe even a pillow, so we can take a nice nap in the cool of the forest.

Stone tables and benches for our future picnic.

We can dip in this pool on a hot day.

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Ethnicity becomes less accurate the broader the gene pool

As a follow-up to my last entry on the improved ethnicity algorithms of Ancestry.com, I also looked at the two generations below my siblings and first cousins, all of whom are about 50 percent Italian, verified by extensive genealogical research, and now also by DNA testing. I’ve noticed, though, that in earlier updates, the amount of DNA identified of Italian origins dropped off sharply for further generations. In the October 2025 update, I see some improvement in the generation just below mine.

Three of my first cousins once removed have tested. By traditional informal methods, they would be considered 25 percent Italian, or maybe since all of us who consider ourselves half Italian tested from 40-50 percent Italian, the next generation down should come in from 20-25 percent Italian. Indeed, SL and JS show 22 percent, a definite improvement over previous results. However, FB shows only 9 percent, far below what might be expected.

Yes, I understand that genetics is complicated, and the distribution of DNA isn’t even from one’s parents and grandparents. One helpful illustration I’ve heard is that we all may come from the same batter made for chocolate chip cookies, but the number and placement of the chips will vary in each cookie. That could be a partial explanation of the discrepancy between the three cousins.

However, in the next generation down, the formula Ancestry uses is definitely problematic. I have at least three first cousins twice removed who have tested. Following the paper trail, they could be considered from 10-12.5 percent Italian. However, SL and DC came in at 3 percent, and ML at zero. It seems pretty unlikely that if you broke one of the parent cookies in half, the resulting half cookie would have no chocolate chips at all. Obviously, it gets very difficult to make ethnicity predictions when one’s gene pool becomes an admixture of eight different great grandparents, each with different ethnicities. I’m not really criticizing Ancestry for this issue, because I know it must be incredibly complicated to accurately figure out the ethnicity of people of such diverse ancestry. Instead, I just want to warn people that their results may not be as accurate as they are led to believe. I know some people who have been disappointed when their DNA results don’t match what they believe to be their ethnicity. In such cases, it is better to trust your traditional research, tracing each ancestor back as far as possible. One should still consider the DNA results, but it’s advisable to treat them with a healthy dose of skepticism, research and reality.

Ancestry.com ethnicity updates have been increasingly more accurate

My compliments to Ancestry.com on its latest ethnicity updates. The company has come a long way from the time in 2018 when it said my siblings and cousins were more French than Italian. Each update since then has come with more detail, and, despite a few rabbit trails in the wrong direction, increasing accuracy.

I can say accuracy with some authority, because I have traced my genealogy extensively, taking some of my Tuscan lines back some 1,000 years, and the area where my family came from was not near a seaport or major trading route. The families there did not marry outside of their own community, and I can verify that with documented research.

I’ve traced Nonno’s Spadoni ancestors back to the mid-1400s and Nonna’s Seghieri line to the mid-1200s (and there were people with that unusual surname living in Pisa hundreds of years before that). Nonno and Nonna had seven children, and each of them married a non-Italian (except for one who did not marry at all). Thus, my siblings, cousins and I are all about 50 percent Tuscan.

I can accept that people from Tuscany will have some genes from other places, so I can’t complain that the six of us who have tested with Ancestry come out between 40-49 percent Italian. The remaining percentage is a mixture of a little French, a little Spanish, and slightly more “Southern Germanic European.” The latter makes perfect sense, as the Lombards (Longobardi) invaded and conquered Tuscany and ruled from about 570 to 774, with headquarters in nearby Lucca. This mostly Germanic tribe was noted for assimilating with the people they conquered, so it’s quite likely that many Tuscans have DNA mixed with Longobardi. In fact, the name Seghieri is of Germanic-Longobardo origin, as are the names of nearby cities Pescia, Uzzano and Altopascio.

Another attestation of the accuracy of the new algorithms is that my sister, brother and I all show up as sharing 25 percent Dutch ancestry, which is spot on. Our grandmother Jeannette Esveldt has a line we’ve traced back to just south of Amsterdam in the year 1630. There is even a town named Esveld in The Netherlands, so it’s quite likely a much older name. She would have been considered 100 percent Dutch, or nearly so, making us one quarter Dutch, as Ancestry confirms. The other one quarter of our heritage, from my mom’s father, is primarily a mixture of English and German, which gives us small percentages of DNA from Southern England, Wales, Ireland, Sweden, Denmark, Germany and Brittany.

All in all, I’m pleased with how the DNA results match up with my paper trail research. I had written highly critical blogs in 2016 and 2018, scolding Ancestry for misleading people about their origins. I also expressed hope that as more data became available, the formulas would become more accurate. Now it’s time to praise the social scientists at Ancestry for a job well done. Siete grandi! Grazie!

Added note: Another great feature that Ancestry added a few years ago is the ability to differentiate between the DNA inherited from father and mother. I can’t explain the science behind this, but it is also amazingly accurate:

Challenges and changed perspectives possible on the Via Francigena

Doctor Dan Thompson helps a pilgrim
with her knee abrasion.

Today we wrapped up our eye-opening and challenging two-week commitment to the pellegrini—pilgrims—on the Via Francigena, which is a pilgrimage that extends from Canterbury to Rome. Most pellegrini only walk a portion of the trail. Some come back year after year to walk different sections. The overall project of our group, which involved two weeks in May and four weeks in September, is also ending, although the Christian group that sponsored it, Cru (Agape Italia is the Italian counterpart), will continue the outreach in various other ways. Lucy and I became involved when we reestablished contact last year with an old friend from our university days, Don Mansfield. We became interested in this outreach when we learned that Cru is hoping to purchase a beautiful convent near our Montecarlo home to be a stopping point for pellegrini. I wrote a blog about this in 2024: The Villa di Vorno.

Not everyone we met was walking the Via
Francigena. Lucy and I had a great talk with
Andrew, an immigrant from Nigeria.
We prayed together that he would
find a steady job. 

Since fund-raising for the convent is still in progress, Cru decided to do a separate but related outreach to pilgrims during the 2025 Catholic Jubilee. Themed “Pilgrims of Hope,” the Jubilee is described as “an extraordinary year of spiritual renewal and grace, running from December 24, 2024, to January 6, 2026, (featuring) the opening of the Holy Doors at Rome’s papal basilicas, encouraging pilgrimage, acts of mercy, and hope in a world facing challenges like war and climate change.” The church and Italian tourist agencies predicted a huge influx of people making the trek to Rome. Those hiking at least 100 kilometers in the last section before Rome are eligible to receive a Testimonium, a certificate from the church verifying their successful completion of the pilgrimage and making them eligible for what the church calls a “plenary indulgence.”

Some of our conversations were
assisted by translation apps.
Our leader Don is on the right.

The concept of the 2025 Cru outreach was to meet pilgrims, hear their stories and provide assistance in whatever ways possible. There were 10 of us working together these last two weeks, and we found that most hikers were eager to meet fellow pilgrims from other countries. As we shared our basic stories and adventures along the trail, a common question was “Why are you hiking the Via Francigena?” Many said the best part was meeting people and sharing experiences. For those pilgrims who said they were hiking for “spiritual reasons,” we asked them to tell us what they had found, which naturally led to us doing the same, allowing us to share our faith in a natural way. Sometimes we prayed with those who were hurting, either spiritually or physically. We had a family doctor on our team who proved to be very useful for several hikers.

We met pilgrims in a variety of ways. We had a punto ristoro in a park in the woods, where we provided water, wine and snacks, and we would invite hikers to refresh themselves at our picnic table and chat. About half would stop. Other times, we would hike sections of the trail and converse with pilgrims as we walked. We also met many pilgrims in coffee shops in the cities.

Don serves up vino and snacks at our punto ristoro near Vetralla.

Lucy and I are both introverts, and while we enjoy reaching out and meeting strangers, for us it requires discipline and effort to do this day after day. Fortunately, the Cru leaders encouraged us to take time to recharge; we often were only on the trail or in parks and coffee shops for four or five hours per day.

By the end of the project, Don told me that adding together the two weeks in May and the four weeks in September that Cru teams had been working in Lazio, they had conversations with some 500 people from 31 nations, speaking in six different languages.

“God is working in European hearts,” Don said. “People who are open to God tend to gather in places like the Via Francigina and the Camino in Spain, and I think we’ve seen that. We set up a stress-free environment for conversations, and we set a tone where we let God do what He’s going to do.”

I walk with a pilgrim entering the centro
storico of ancient Capranica.

One thing that surprised Don was the relative dearth of pilgrims, as the Catholic Church and various tourism sources predicted that the trail would be awash in hikers this year, leading him to believe that we might experience up to 1,000 hikers passing by daily. The numbers, instead, ranged from around 10 to 100. We also had to be sensitive to their schedules, as many had accommodation check-in or finding meals on their minds, so our conversations at times had to be cut short.

An additional benefit of the project was the wealth of tips received that will aid in the management of the convent in Vorno. Having a good website where online reservations can be made was at the top of the list, but perhaps equally important was having a place to wash and dry clothes. Numerous pilgrims said that their first thought upon checking in was how to wash clothes quickly so they could possibly be dry by the morning. I’ll be typing up a more complete list of suggestions to pass along to the leaders of the convent.

A group of pellegrini. Quite likely, many of these
pilgrims simply met up while hiking and
decided to walk together for a day or two.

As I hiked portions of the trail, I came to understand the appeal of going on a pilgrimage. We saw new portions of the spectacular world God has created. We pushed our bodies up steep slopes, looking within to find strength to continue. We found time both alone and with friends to pray and meditate. We shared stories and new points of view with fellow pilgrims, and we met dozens of Italian residents who made us feel welcome in their little communities. Rick Steves has written much about the benefits of travel, and I’ll include a lengthy quote from him to end this blog entry, but I’ll add that by combining a pilgrimage with travel probably at least doubles the results that Rick speaks of:

“Globe-trotting destroys ethnocentricity. It helps you understand and appreciate different cultures. Thoughtful travel engages you with the world—more important than ever these days. Travel changes people. It broadens perspectives and teaches new ways to measure quality of life. Rather than fear the diversity on this planet, travelers celebrate it. Many travelers toss aside their hometown blinders. Their prized souvenirs are the strands of different cultures they decide to knit into their own character.”

The team for the final two weeks (minus Lucy), enjoying one of our days off and dining on the shores of Lago di Bolsena. It was an amazing group of loving and committed forever friends.

 

The Dolce Vita--sweet life--is far more than an itinerary

Today we have a rare and special blog entry about the sweet life from my sweet wife Lucy.

Paul and I have always said about our travels, “It’s the people we interact with that make the deepest impression.” The art and architecture, the mountains, the rivers, the festivals are all very important and impressive, but it’s our conversations—with both locals and fellow travelers—that reach our hearts and stick with us for a lifetime.

Paul and I are working with a Christian group called Cru, staying two weeks in Vetralla, about 60 miles north of Rome. It’s situated on the Via Francigena, the pilgrim trail that runs from Canterbury to Rome. People walk this trail for many reasons—spiritual, a love of hiking and nature, exercise, and to meet people. Our aim is to serve these pellegrini (pilgrims), whether that means providing them with snacks, water and wine, fixing their wounds (we have a doctor in the group), providing sympathetic listening ears, and when appropriate, sharing our own experiences with God.

Today I went with my friend Terrie to a local shop called Il Pastaio (the pasta maker) to help interpret while she learned from the pastaio and helped his crew make gnocchi from scratch. We had purchased some ravioli from Cesare Birelli last week, and when Terrie expressed an interest in learning the pasta making process, Cesare responded with “Certo!” and invited her to come back in a few days.

At the end, we received fresh
gnocchi and sauce for our 
group's dinner

We arrived a bit shy and uncertain, but Cesare greeted us warmly, along with co-workers Alexandra Bordeianu and Laura Bartoli. Alexandra originally hails from Transylvania and has been working with Cesare for a year, while Laura started just two weeks ago. They had clean jars waiting to be filled with spicy pumpkin and chestnut soup. They placed them in an industrial-sized steamer to seal, and then they filled more jars with soup made with fresh porcini mushrooms and potatoes. They said that later they would also be processing a mixture that included strawberry grapes—but first, we must make gnocchi!

Alberto is a healthy 97-year-old 
regular customer of Il Pastaio.

Cesare had cooked the potatoes and showed Terrie how to rice them, a fairly strenuous process, she said. Then they weighed out a kilo of potatoes, an etto (100 grams) of flour, two handfuls of salt and 150 grams of potato flakes. All this was placed in a mixer to create the pasta (literally paste). Then they took hunks of dough and hand-rolled them into cylinders which were then cut it into half inch lengths, dusted by Terrie with rice flour who set the pieces on trays. Alexandra would stop as needed to serve customers.

That’s an overview of what happened, but the real story is the friendly banter we shared. We sang songs from “Alexa,” joked (macho, macho, man…), laughed and shared details of our life stories and spiritual journeys. We felt completely comfortable and included as these gentle friends initiated us strangers into the bella vita of Italy. We found that each of these pasta makers has a personalized and somewhat humorous nickname. We heard about their families, and noted that Cesare had a framed photo of “Nonna” on the wall. In the end, we prayed together that God would continue to bless their lives, their families and their shop, and we promised each other that we would share more stories in heaven. Thank you, friends. We love you, too!