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It'S Always about the People
For my 50th birthday in 2000, I wanted a special vacation. We chose Tuscany, our first trip of what became many trips to Italy, but never back to Tuscany. We rented an apartment from Fernanda and Mario on their idyllic country property near Cancelli, 20 km from Florence. Fernanda was trying to run a rental business and part of her promotion was a family style Tuscan supper in their kitchen. We met their teenage son Nicola who translated for his parents at the start of the meal. Despite the language barrier we stayed well into the evening, enjoying the meal and talking to Mario who, with his little bit of English, was interested in everything and somehow conversation flowed. Well into the grappa a friend made using “secret grasses,” we learned about cooking, eating, farming, young people leaving for the big cities and that the best pizza is in Naples. When our two weeks were over we were sad to leave, but Tuscany and Italy had gotten under our skin. We continued to stay in contact over the years with our new friends, sending postcards on all our travels and Christmas cards, hoping and promising to see them again.
Then in October 2013 we fulfilled a promise to my husband’s father - that we would take a big trip with him in his 90th year and his girlfriend. He chose Tuscany, and we immediately realized this would be our chance to return to Tuscany and see our friends again, especially now that Nicola was grown up and married. I emailed Nicola to ask if he had any contacts with people still doing rental properties. He did and we soon had two apartments lined up on a fattoria in the same area we had stayed in 2000. We wanted to have a reunion supper with our friends and our wonderful host Carla was happy to help. After a week of touring around Tuscany with my father-in-law in a wheelchair, visiting old and new sites, the evening of the grand supper approached. Besides seeing our friends again there were two more wonderful things. We learned that Nicola and his wife Maria had just become parents of twins. My husband Bucky had one of his dreams come true - fresh truffles, locally gathered by a truffle hunter and prepared by Carla’s mom, served on top of her homemade pasta. Getting the chance to meet the truffle hunter himself and have the Tuscan location where they were gathered pinned on Bucky’s iPad made him delirious with joy.
I will always regret that I failed to take a photo of the 13 of us around the big table. Mario, who hadn’t changed a bit, sat next to Bucky and told him the black truffles were good, but white truffles were better. Fernanda had kept photos we’d sent 13 years ago and shared the memories with us. Carla, her sister and brother-in-law, Carla’s mom and mom’s boyfriend, my father-in-law and his girlfriend kept the evening rousing and challenged Bucky’s ability to understand Italian. As the gathering wound to a close Fernanda invited us to lunch at her house on Tuesday. I was sorry to have to decline but we were leaving for Rome in the morning. “Next time!” I said cheerily. I thought the tears welling up in her eyes were tears of happiness. But I was wrong.
In February 2014, I emailed Nicola to ask about the babies. The babies were fine, he said, but he had bad news. His father Mario had died a couple of weeks before, of cancer. Mario knew he had cancer in October, but as Nicola told me, his father did not want to spoil the reunion by revealing his disease. We were shocked and saddened but we will always be grateful that by some twist of fate we were able to see Mario again, looking healthy, happy and vigorous.
If there is one thing our travels have taught us, it is that it is always about the people.
—Posted on behalf of the author, Loie M, by her loving husband.
