Happily ever after

"...That is my home of love: if I have ranged, Like him that travels I return again..."

-William Shakespeare, Sonnet 109

One last look at our apartment.  The middle floor balcony is off our living room; the upper balcony is off the master bedroom.  Yes, that's our last load of laundry flapping in the breeze.

Living room.  We were lucky that our eat-in kitchen was a separate room - that is not always the case in Italy.  Our apartment was quite large by Italian standards.

The foyer.  Doctor's office to the left; our door to the right.  This was a big hangout spot for the townsfolk

Outside FCO Airport, with both passports.  I will use the US one when entering or leaving the US, but will use the Italian one at passport control when leaving (or entering) Italy.

Airport sculpture (as the airport is named after Da Vinci, there are many references to him throughout)

Paolo was a little short for this...

Well, we made it back to the USA, safe and sound.  We spent our last three nights in Fiumicino outside of Rome, since we had to drop off the rental car at the airport, as well as to obtain pre-flight Covid tests, which are still required for flights into the US.  They have a testing center in Terminal 3 of the airport, and as the current rules state that you can get the test done the day before, we opted to do that, so we wouldn't be scrambling at the last minute to make our flight.  We suspected that the wait for the test might be long.  We were able to preregister for the test online (by "preregister," I just mean fill in the required forms, not schedule a specific time).

Waiting in line - about an hour to go from this point

It seems that a lot of people do not plan for this testing ahead of time!  We were shocked by how many people waited until the last minute for their tests - there were several people who claimed they were going to miss their flight if they couldn't jump the queue.  What's that expression about your poor planning not being my emergency?  The gentleman in line ahead of us said he'd already missed his flight while he was waiting - although he seemed to take this pretty calmly; I assume he was able to rebook himself fairly easily.  There was a guy behind us, however, who asked everyone around him multiple times to let him go ahead, as he claimed his flight was departing in 20 minutes.  Super annoying.  It's not that we were being unkind by not wanting to let him go ahead, but rather, we didn't want to start a riot behind us, as there were plenty of other people also waiting who had flights to catch, too.

We stayed at the Hilton right next to the airport again - there is an extremely convenient elevated walkway from the hotel property over to the airport - and took the train into Rome proper twice.  The Monday before we left Italy was Liberation Day - Festa della Liberazione, a public holiday celebrating the Italian Resistance's overthrow of the Fascists and the Nazi powers in Italy in 1945 (in the North, anyway).   We took one last touristy open-top bus tour of Rome, to see the highlights of the city (many of which we've already visited between our 2018 trip and this one).  I took several videos from the bus (I discovered this is easier than trying to snap photos).  Here and here are links to two of my favorites.  This first was taken near the Colosseum and the Forum; the second was taken near the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II - also known as the "Wedding Cake." Afterward, we took ourselves out for a nice lunch nearby.

The following day, after our Covid tests described above, we went back into Rome, as I wanted to pick up an extra suitcase, as well as a few small, last minute gifts. As we were shopping, Paolo got his pocket picked in the store - right in front of the shopkeeper, who immediately recognized what was happening - it seemed he'd dealt with this particular pickpocket before - and we all chased him down into the next shop and got the phone back, thankfully. Later, we encountered this same asshole again on the street, and he actually has the balls to joke around about it and try to pass it all off as a bit of fun. I let him know it wasn't very funny to us - and he stomped off pretty quickly once I took my phone out and started taking his picture.

Jerky McJerkface, failed pickpocket

Our flight home the next morning was more or less uneventful, except that our flight departed a little earlier than scheduled, and thus landed in Philly earlier, too.  I think that's the first time that's happened for us, so far as I can recall.  I took a short video of our takeoff, to capture a bit of Italy and its western coastline from the air; click here to see it.

Pre-flight champagne.  Not that we were feeling particularly celebratory to be leaving Italy.

The toasted BBQ sandwich served as the "light meal" toward the end of the flight was probably one of the best things I've ever eaten on an airplane.

I believe this is Elba, famous for being Napoleon's first place of exile

We were seated in business class (one of the truly "splurge" bits of this adventure, to be sure), and while I can't speak to the main cabin, I can confirm that in our section, we were two of only three passengers wearing masks.  Some of the crew wore them, and some did not. I understand that the Covid precautions have become more relaxed here in the US.  That will take some getting used to.  Italy is also just now beginning to ease many of its Covid measures, but not as quickly as seems to be happening on this side of the Atlantic.

And here we are, unpacked and (mostly) settled in.  It took me a couple of days to get over the jet lag; Paolo seems to have had an easier time adapting.  It also took me several days to wade through the six months' worth of mail that had accumulated.  For now, I am just working through what I consider to be an adjustment period - trying to assimilate myself back into our American lives (we already miss the fresh bread and excellent produce - the bell peppers are so puny here!).  We are already thinking about how soon (and for how long) we will return to il bel paese...

I'll just take a moment here to pay tribute to Paolo, most excellent of travel companions (and husbands), without whose love and support my dual citizenship dream might never have become a reality.  I am not certain whether I'd have had the courage to pack up and move to another country, to live a very different kind of life, where I don't even speak the language, without him.  Thank you, my love ❤️

A Visit to the Ancestral Comune

Way back in the early days of this blog, I mentioned that my great grandfather Cesare Pesaresi was born in Corinaldo, in Ancona province, in the region of Le Marche.  This past weekend, thanks to cousin M. and her family, we got to see the home of his parents, Pietro Pesaresi and Marianna Pierpaoli, as well as the centro storico of the comune, and some of the surrounding countryside.  Both the ancestral homestead and the comune itself were larger than I'd pictured in my mind.

We made the drive from Senigallia to cousin M's family's home in a little under 25 minutes.  The countryside of the Marche region is very pretty - quite agricultural, like Molise, though the hills are smaller here.  I took a short video (about 26 seconds) of the drive - here is the link.  While we did see a few olive groves, as well as several signs advertising olive oil for sale, we encountered more vineyards, farms, and orchards here.  Incidentally, I learned that the wine region here is called Colli Pesaresi - although to my knowledge my family doesn't have a winery of its own (by the way, "Pesaresi" just means "from Pesaro"; "colli," in this sense of the word, translates to "hills").  I shall have to see if I can find some wines from the Colli Pesaresi region when we are back in the US!

When we arrived, M., her husband L., her daughter A. (they have a son, too, but he is currently studying in Milano), and M.'s parents were waiting to greet us.  And inside waiting for us was cousin F. - my grandfather Alfonso's first cousin, who was born in 1926!  Her mother was my great grandfather's sister Palmira - the girl with the large bow in her hair in the photo at the top of this blog.  Hard to believe there is still someone of that generation living, but there she was, very sweet and frail.  She seemed quite happy to meet us, although we couldn't really speak directly to one another as she doesn't speak English and my Italian is next to nonexistent.  She is also extremely hard of hearing. My grandfather and she used to exchange brief letters and holiday cards - he would write in English while she would write in Italian - and she still had many of the cards and letters he'd sent over the years, which they showed me!  I let them know that I have the letters and cards she sent to him, as my grandparents gave them to me years ago (along with a lot of other family memorabilia) when they sold their house.

Me, F., and M's mother/F's daughter FS.  And one of their two dogs - it kept nipping me when we first arrived.  I realized after we left that we didn't get cousin M. in this group picture for some reason😞

A US map was brought out, and we were asked to indicate on it who lives where - so we marked ourselves in PA, and to the best of our ability added various other relatives they asked about.

Mapping out the US Pesaresi family

After looking through photos and letters, marking the map, and of course, caffè, we set off to see the ancestral homestead - the home where my great, great grandparents lived, which was just a short drive away.  

The house is now owned by a German couple.  While we were there taking pictures, the woman came out to see what we were doing there.  She wasn't overly-friendly and more or less chased us away, as she was busy painting, she said (in English) - although she invited us to come back some other time.  I apologized for disturbing her and explained I'd just wanted to see the house where my great grandfather once lived.  We scooted off pretty quickly after that.

We also stopped to visit the town cemetery.  L. asked me about the cemetery at home - I think perhaps he assumed the family was all buried in one place, which isn't the case - and I did my best to explain that cemeteries in the US are not at all like the cemeteries commonly found in Italy.  In Italy, the cimitero is usually a sort of walled enclave located outside the town proper, and owned by the local comune, not the church (I believe my own comune charges a nominal "cemetery tax").  A typical cimitero consists of family mausoleums and rows of vaults - they look almost like a little village.  In at least some cimiteri, the vaults might be leased rather than owned outright; if the lease is not renewed, the deceased (or whatever remains of them) is then removed to an ossuary elsewhere on the grounds.  

Views of the cimitero

The vaults of Palmira Pesaresi and her husband, Adolfo Mosca (the parents of cousin F.)

The vault of Pietro Pesaresi, father of Cesare and Palmira.  

From there, we were taken to see the birthplace of Santa Maria Goretti, who was born here in 1890 - just nine years before the birth of Cesare Pesaresi (she died when he was three years old).  If you're not familiar with her story, know that it's not a very pleasant one - she is the patron saint of crime victims - rape victims in particular - among other things.

This is the bed in which Maria was born

Afterwards, we drove into the walled centro storico for a walking tour.  Two of the more well-known sights of Corinaldo:

Del Pozzo della Polenta - the "Polenta Well."  The story goes that a man carrying a sack of corn flour was walking up the steep hill (I guess the steps hadn't been built yet).  He stopped to rest at the well, and his sack of flour fell in - and he jumped in after it.   Polenta-making chaos ensued - there are actually several variations of the story of what happened next:  some say he threw down some sausages, too; others say the townspeople jumped in after him because they didn't want him to selfishly eat all the polenta himself.  It's a little weird, to be sure; perhaps the story doesn't translate well across cultures.  But there is a yearly festival based on this story called La Contesta del Pozzo della Polenta - the Struggle for the Polenta Well.  The festival isn't about the polenta; rather, it is in honor of the well itself - the water from it ensured the victory of the Corinaldesi over the Duke of Urbino, who laid siege to the town back in the 1500s

This "house" is, obviously, just a façade.  The story behind the Casa di Scuretto is that Signore Scuretto, the town drunk, had a son who went to the US to work.  The son would send money back to his father, which was to be used to build a house to which the son would one day return after having made his fortune in America.  But the father spent the money in the local bars instead.  At some point, his son got suspicious and asked his father to send him pictures of the work in progress.  The father quickly had this façade built, stuck a house number on it, and sent the requested photos.  Eventually, the son found out what his father had done, and stopped sending money - so the house was never finished.

The town is larger than I had imagined.  I wish that we had planned to spend more time here, because there was much more we would have liked to have seen.  We did have a chance to climb up one part of the city walls - which, incidentally, aren't actually the original walls, as they "only" date back to the late 1400s!  So:  practically new, in Italian terms.  

Inside some kind of walkway within the walls, I think - it was a little unclear to us where we were at this point - we were just following L. as he led us through the highlights.  I wish I'd had a map...

One of the city gates

M. & L., atop the tower at the Porta Nova, I believe

The "New" Gate dates from 1490.

Views from atop the city walls

At the main entrance to city hall

Just a couple of tourists on a breezy day - please excuse my wind-blown hair

Side view of the end of a row of small houses that I thought were cute; too bad I didn't see any "vendesi" ("for sale") signs on any of them.  The front door for this end unit is on the left (unseen) side of the building.

The last part of our somewhat whirlwind tour included visits to a couple of the town's major churches.  Our first stop was the Sanctuario di Santa Maria Goretti (formerly known as the Chiesa di Sant'Agostino):

The saint's mother.

We also stopped in at the Chiesa dell'Addolorata, where they keep the Madonna and the Dead Christ that are carried in the town's Good Friday procession:

The Good Friday procession statues

After our tour of Corinaldo, we returned to the family's home to say goodbye and thank you to the cousins before heading back down the A14 (the Autostrata Adriatica) towards home.  As we were driving, we took note of how pretty the route is.  The A14 runs from Bologna over to the coast, then more or less down the Adriatic coastline before cutting back over to Taranto at the western top of the "heel" of the "boot" of Italy - on the Gulf of Taranto in the Ionian Sea.  We decided that we might like to do an A14 road trip someday - starting in Bologna and working our way down, stopping along the way to explore whatever cute beach towns catch our fancy.  Anybody in?

When we finally arrived home, we realized - much to our embarrassment - that we'd completely forgotten to give our hosts a cake we'd bought at our local bakery as a gift for them.  This cake is called Colomba di Pasqua ("dove cake," although to me, the texture is more like a light, sweet bread - somewhat like a panettone),  and is traditionally served at Eastertime here (Paolo waited in line for quite a while at the bakery to get one).  Ugh, I felt like a jerk - I don't know how it slipped my mind.  Well, I will send them something from the US once we return, I guess.  In the meantime, we've been eating the cake/bread ourselves, as there's no sense in letting it go to waste; it's super tasty.  I will have to see if I can find a good recipe to replicate this back in the US.  Which, sadly, will be all too soon...

Next up:  Paolo had an appointment to pick up his carta di soggiorno at the questura in Campobasso.

Overnight in Senigallia

We were invited to stay overnight in the little pied-à-terre of cousin M. and her husband L. in the nearby beach resort town of Senigallia (a little less than 25 minutes from their home on the outskirts of Corinaldo, my great grandfather's hometown).  We had a great view of the beach from the balcony:

The vibe of the beachfront area is not unlike that of Avalon, NJ, for example, with its quaint little shops and trendy-ish restaurants.  The beaches along the Adriatic coast - at least the ones we've passed on our travels - seem to be narrower than most of those along the South Jersey shore.  I imagine it gets pretty lively here in the summer time.  It seems to be a family-oriented area, as we saw a few playground areas along the beach - though not in a loud, neon-lighted Wildwood or busy-boardwalk Ocean City kind of way (with apologies to those who enjoy those types of places).

We met up with L. and daughter A. in the early evening for a very quick tour of parts of the centro storico of Senigallia before picking up M. at work:

Rocca Rovaresca, a Gothic fortress

Foro Annonario, where there is a daily market.  The inside of the building was once the fish market - inside you can still see the large stone slab tables where the fish would have been displayed.  Today there seems to be a historical exhibit of some kind inside, but we didn't visit that, just peeked through the windows

Inner courtyard, Palazzetto Baviera

After our very quick walking tour, we picked up cousin M. from her place of work and headed to dinner at a nearby restaurant, where we had Neapolitan-style pizza (note that Napoli is about 4.5 to 5 hours southwest of here by car).  We certainly had fun trying to communicate with one another.  A. speaks some English, so she helped translate a bit; mostly we had to resort to translation apps on our phones.  Interestingly, the servers in the restaurant spoke quite good English.  I wonder if many British tourists visit during the summers...?  

After dinner we walked off some of the calories on a quick tour of the beach/port area.  We saw where all the fishing boats dock (I didn't get any pictures of them as it was not particularly well-lit in that area), as well as what appeared to be a boating or yacht club, perhaps - at any rate, there were a lot of sailboats:

We also took a walk out on the pier to see the Rotondo a Mare.  I think they host events and exhibits inside; unfortunately, it wasn't open when we were there, so we could not walk all the way around it.  But it was still very cool to see lit up at night:

Rotondo a Mare

Fountain, with the Rotondo to the left in the background

View of the town in the early evening

I wish we had planned to spend more time here; it's a charming little town and I'd like to go back and see more of it - perhaps on our next trip!

Up Next:  a visit to Cesare's hometown.