After a long flight and lots of jetlag I finally have time to write.
I can't say anything but the cliché: Tuscania is beautiful. Everything is green and lush (despite it being the dead of winter) and the atmosphere is peaceful and welcoming. It even smells cozy. It seems like all of the homes and stores are heated with wood-burning stoves, so everything outside smells like a giant fireplace.
I arrived at the Hotel Tuscania on Friday morning exhausted since I had been up for 24 hours straight (sleep on the flight was impossible). As soon as we arrived we were given a walking tour of the town. I was sort of in a zombie-like state. However, the view from the main park in Tuscania quickly refreshed me. I can't begin to describe the landscape, but the photos should speak for themselves.
My room in the hotel is comfortable and not so different from what you would expect from a standard hotel room in America. The only real difference is the unusually high bathtub and the bidet in the bathroom...first time seeing one of those. The room also has a beautiful terrace overlooking the street below. In the morning the staff serve up delicious, strong cappuccinos as well as an array of fruit and pastries. Given my dietary restrictions, the staff was nice enough to provide gluten free cookies and gluten free chocolate plum cake for me to eat in the morning (bonus points for Hotel Tuscania). Gluten free food here is readily found at the local pharmacy (even in this small town of 8,000 people). As far as flavor goes--it puts Whole Foods Market to shame. The Italians in general seem to place a high value on the quality of their food and the process of eating in general. Enjoying a meal seems to be an almost spiritual experience for everyone.
I am just beginning to get used to the pace of things in this town. Everything goes by very slowly and I find myself becoming impatient when I encounter long lines (lines, not because there are many people shopping, but because all of the store owners chat, walk around and generally take their time about everything). It is almost foreign to me to see people take a real human interest in each other in settings like the local supermarket. Despite the fact that I don't speak Italian (and 95 percent of the town does not speak English), I can sense everyone's curiosity and genuine interest in who I am. I am trying to go with it, without suspicion or cynicism--something not so easy for this New Yorker.
I can't say anything but the cliché: Tuscania is beautiful. Everything is green and lush (despite it being the dead of winter) and the atmosphere is peaceful and welcoming. It even smells cozy. It seems like all of the homes and stores are heated with wood-burning stoves, so everything outside smells like a giant fireplace.
I arrived at the Hotel Tuscania on Friday morning exhausted since I had been up for 24 hours straight (sleep on the flight was impossible). As soon as we arrived we were given a walking tour of the town. I was sort of in a zombie-like state. However, the view from the main park in Tuscania quickly refreshed me. I can't begin to describe the landscape, but the photos should speak for themselves.
My room in the hotel is comfortable and not so different from what you would expect from a standard hotel room in America. The only real difference is the unusually high bathtub and the bidet in the bathroom...first time seeing one of those. The room also has a beautiful terrace overlooking the street below. In the morning the staff serve up delicious, strong cappuccinos as well as an array of fruit and pastries. Given my dietary restrictions, the staff was nice enough to provide gluten free cookies and gluten free chocolate plum cake for me to eat in the morning (bonus points for Hotel Tuscania). Gluten free food here is readily found at the local pharmacy (even in this small town of 8,000 people). As far as flavor goes--it puts Whole Foods Market to shame. The Italians in general seem to place a high value on the quality of their food and the process of eating in general. Enjoying a meal seems to be an almost spiritual experience for everyone.
I am just beginning to get used to the pace of things in this town. Everything goes by very slowly and I find myself becoming impatient when I encounter long lines (lines, not because there are many people shopping, but because all of the store owners chat, walk around and generally take their time about everything). It is almost foreign to me to see people take a real human interest in each other in settings like the local supermarket. Despite the fact that I don't speak Italian (and 95 percent of the town does not speak English), I can sense everyone's curiosity and genuine interest in who I am. I am trying to go with it, without suspicion or cynicism--something not so easy for this New Yorker.
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