The great return!

So we have now completely circumnavigated the globe and have returned to visit family and friends.

We decided to surprise our families for the holidays and spend some time re-connecting with our loved ones.  While we thought we might be finished traveling, we arrived in Virginia, and after a week made it to Indiana where after another week Jess went to Denver to visit sister husband and baby.  Now I am driving to Colorado to spend time with a close friend, joining up with Jess and heading to the San Juan Mountains in Southern CO.

You may ask why we have returned?  Well… many reasons, but here is one.  We got to the point where we realized that even though we loved WWOOfing and meeting new people and seeing so many beautiful places- that we realized we wanted to be putting our energy into a place of our own.  We have been thinking of starting a farm of our own some day, and traveling out of the country, filling our heads about things to do, and not to do, only seemed to make us more eager and excited to come home and start the ball rolling for finding a place of our own.  We are now looking and hoping to find a place to start growing early this year!

If you have any ideas, we are taking tons of suggestions!

We also realize that we are absolutely NOT finished traveling! We will keep you posted on where we are if we know…

Fungi

Jess and I have now completed our first intensive mushroom hunt!  We decided to take a brief jog over into France for the weekend before heading to Amsterdam.  We arrived near Grenoble after a great drive through the mountains with our friend and host that we met Woofing.  Our talk over dinner the first night involved the strategies of mushroom hunting, and inspection of a book of local mushrooms.

In the morning we headed out to our hosts secret spot.  We were encouraged not to remember the directions and it was almost recommended that we be blindfolded.  Because we do not frequent the Grenoble area, we were allowed the great view of snow capped mountains and green pasture and farmland.  We drove up into the mountains where the trees were tall, and the air was crisp in the morning.  The sun did not reach our hunting grounds until after 10:00.

So we set out climbing up a road into the forest, then up a steep hill to take us to a spot where they had previously found mushrooms.  We were not exactly sure what were looking for but, the name of the first mushroom was called “La Trompette des mort” or Black Death Trumpet.  An exciting name to start us off!  And then I looked down and found some!  They were little black things that really did look like little trumpets.  So we started picking them and filling up our mushroom baskets.  We spent a lot of time searching and slipping on the steep slope, and my eyes played tricks on me in the dim light.  Eventually I started to see a lot of mushrooms on the forest floor, near and under logs, emerging from the leafy floor.  The light yellow and white colored mushrooms were easy to spot, but the brown and black and grey ones were more difficult to spot.  There were not too many words spoken between us as we concentrated on staring at the ground, and when we found a mushroom we wanted to make sure it was a safe one to pick.  We did find lots of mushrooms that were obviously poisonous: the ones with bright red tops and white spots.

By the end of our first session, we had found Chantarelle, black trumpets, mutton foot, and a few others.  We had a considerable haul for our first time hunting.  Lunch was has back at our hosts, and from there we headed out around their house to explore the open pastures for some different kinds.  We found 2 more edibles that were white and big and relatively easy to find in the short grass.

The evening for dinner we decided we must try out our mushrooms, and of the 9 species we collected for the day, we ate 8 of them.  We warmed up some rice as a side, and the mushrooms were sauteed lightly and separately in olive oil with some coriander or parsley until we realized there was butter.  We had a great time eating and sipping delicious french wine, and our host was sure to ask every now and then in his broken english “Is everyone still alive?”

We finished off the evening with a sip of digestive alcohol infused with some alpine flower, distinctive of the region.  We’ll have to look up the name for that and our other mushrooms.

Needless to say we survived our first wild mushroom hunting and eating!

Vendemmia

Chris and I are now in a little mountain town near Grenoble, France, enjoying our last days before we fly out to the Netherlands. We met a woman at our last farm who lives here, and she invited us to her home after hearing that we were yearning for some adventure in the Alps.  We will only be here a few days, then we will make our way back to Milano to catch our flight on Oct 6th.  The mountains are gorgeous, and I want to write about our experiences going mushroom gathering, but first we must give a little picture of our life in the vendemmia (grape harvest) at our last farm.      The following is an excerpt from a journal entry of mine while we were on the farm, written a few days ago on Sept 30.

Outside it is the kind of cloudy that you know immediately is paired with chilly, humid autumn weather that follows a rain.  Every now and then, an Italian burst of sunshine comes through that makes me want to go out and take photographs–but I already did that earlier this afternoon. The colors are fantastic, even when the sun isn’t shining.  Naturally, I get a feeling of excitement that comes with this weather; for so many years this season has brought that “new school year” feeling that I have always loved.  This year, autumn doesn’t mean school, it means vendemmia.

For the most part, I have enjoyed participating in the vendemmia this year at Valli Unite.  At moments, harvesting the grappoli (bunches) becomes almost a meditation.  My hands are always stained now around my fingernails and my knuckles are speckled with tiny splinters from brushing up against the vines as you catch the falling bunches.  After an hour or so in the vigna (vineyard) your hands get so sticky that your right hand and the scissors it is holding become inseparable and leaves don’t let go of your left hand when you touch them.  At this point, you have two options:  one, find an “uva martina” (unfertilized, unriped bunch of grapes) that has no sugar and squish them in your palm to wash with their nearly-water juice;  or, you just grab a clump of dirt and smash it, adding a layer of it over your sticky mess.  When I do this (which is often), I can’t help but think that I am creating a kind of grape/dirt lasagna on my hands as the rich layers add up.

It is usually between 15 and 20 of us in the field at a time.  On a full day, we pick from around 8:30-12 and then 2-6:30 or 7:00 and we fill, in one session, between two and seven bigoncia (grape trailers), each one weighing around 1500 kilos.  Do the math and you realize that in one day, it is normal to pick 22,000 lbs of grapes. The vendemmia here usually lasts a month and includes fruit from nearly 90 acres of vineyards.

One of my favorite parts is the ride back to the cantina (wine processing building) from the vineyard.  Behind each tractor will be two bigoncia and we, the pickers, latch on at all possible points: sitting on the ledge over the giant tractor wheels, standing on the tongue linking tractor to bigoncia, or on the back of the bigoncia where there are two short pieces of wood sticking out.  Occasionally, we’ll still have an empty bigoncia and we will climb into it for the ride.  People are quiet during this ride, except fro the giggling that ensues after launching loose grapes at each other or the back of the driver’s head.  People are smiling knowing that another day’s work is completed and the light on their cheeks and hair is from a sun low in the sky.  The sky is dark blue with sunset approaching, the grass is a more vibrant green, and the few red leaves starting in the vineyards blur past you.  All you can hear really is the rumbling of the tractor and a lurch of metal when it changes gears.  Over gravel roads we bumble along and people’s heads bob from the jostling–but with their happy smiles it almost makes me think that they are mildly dancing with the satisfaction of another full day of vendemmia.

This farm cooperative is full of characters, which makes working the fields usually entertaining and occasionally hilarously frustrating.  Here are some snapshots: Sam is a Dutch man of 60 years who calls himself a “professional WWOOFer” who has been coming and going here since the co-op began in the late 70s/early 80s.  He’s thin as a rail, speaks hilarious fluent Italian with a curious accent and is one you can always hear if he’s around. On the side he is a striking artist, one you’d imagine who gets so absorbed in his work that he forgets to eat (or leaves pots to burn over on the stove). He’s got spiky light-brown hair, little round glasses, and sun-tanned face. When he curious about something and raises his eyebrows, it exposes a web of white lines  of skin (normally covered by wrinkles) that never see the sun. He is a generous translator of many languages and gossips openly about everyone else at the coop.
Sofia is the fiesty joker of the group (who we obviously get along with).  She’s always throwing rotten grapes at your head from nearby rows and is friendly with everyone from the start. Her short spiky hair is often covered by a colorful scarf and she wears clothes with funny sayings on them, like “you looked hotter online” or “i’m the happiest girl in the whole world.” Dirk is the Belgian who is technically in charge of the vineyard but is so soft-spoken and laid-back that his directions are often overturned by louder (Italian) voices like Mario. He’s the tall, goofy, curly-haired artist-turned baker/tractor-driver who has friendly suggestions for everything.  He’s got terrible teeth from smoking too much and buck-teeth in front, but he gives you a huge smile every time he sees you.  It’s such a warm smile that it distracts you from the fact that he’s just given you contradicting instructions.
Marco likes to start rumors that we are stopping for a focacia/cigarette break.  But when you ask him a favor like to pass you an empty box or pass up your full one, he’ll often ignore you and not respond at all, showing his moody, holier-than-thou, 22 year-old attitude.   He walks around shirtless with sagging pants, and his head of thick, dark, long dreds is topped by a green felt cap that reminds me of David the Gnome.  He smokes a lot of dope, drinks a lot of espresso, and normally works in the cantina.  Usually, his moodiness and impolite attitude are directed lovingly at poor Filippo.  He’s the butt of everyone’s jokes, and mostly for good reason.  He’s a tender soul (why is he in the vineyard?), always wrought with some ailment: insomnia, migraines, back-aches, cut hands, poked eyes, sore joints, vertigo…and he’s that kind of socially-eager guy with a heart of gold who really just tries too hard.  He’ll crack you up just being his normal self and responds thoroughly to the teasing, thus sealing his own fate.  He’s always wanting to know how you’re doing, how you slept, what you ate, etc.   And then there’s the other WWOOFer, Jimmy, who is really hard to describe.  A 29 year-old rural Pennsylvania farmboy turned Miami, FL wannabe gangster who has traveled extensively (Russia, Central America, Europe, SE Asia, now living in Brazil) but still manages to act like a bumbling closed-minded American tourist.  He is, though, a really positive guy and his excitement to be in Italy and WWOOFing for the first time is a great refresher for us.  There are so many others to describe… It feels a bit weird to “label” them all, but I hope that my descriptions at least give you a little idea of who we have been working with the last few weeks.  We were totally welcomed at the farm and had tons of interesting conversations in mixed languages.

And now, we are in France, absorbing some mountain sun and air. We’ve spent some time online figuring out our next travel details, which is a big relief!  Hope we have some time again soon to describe our days here in the Alps.  Soon, we head north…

To catch up…

Too much to catch up on, really… We had a fantastic two weeks with the Nicholsons and have spent the last 5 days with Marie at our new farm.  We were able to see a ton with Rich and Marie: Florence, Siena, Rome, the Val D’Orcia, the Cinque Terre, a bit of Genova… Another post would be necessary to catch up on all that.

We are currently in Milan seeing off Marie, who flies home tomorrow morning.  We will then head back to our farm, where a huge grape harvest (which started last week) is still awaiting us.  There are usualy 10-20 of us in the field at a time, cutting and filling 55 lb. boxes and then dumping them in the trailers attached to the tractors.  I couldn’t even guess how much we pick every day… Needless to say, they make a lot of delicious organic wine.

We have spotty internet access at the farm, but hope to blog more soon.  Right now I am nearly falling asleep, so this brief brief update will be all for now.

Florence

Jess and I are trying to fill time before my parents arrive.

We just left our WWOOF farm early this morning after cramming down bread with the last apricot and pear preserves.  The train to Florence was painless, and we have already checked into the hotel.

We will let you know about our upcoming adventures with my parents, but first we have to find them…

Company of Goats

We managed to make it safely back in Italy from Turkey and made it to our next farm in Tuscany near Pienza and Montepulciano.  Today is our first day off in nearly 2 weeks and we hiked to nearby Monticchielo for a yummy lunch and a chance to get on the internet.

Our currnet farm is a complicated operation that includes agritourism (camping) and a restaurant, plus they make and sell wine, olive oil, raw milk cheese, organic meat (goat and sheep) and they have their own brand of fresh pasta that is sold in Italy and Switzerland.  Chris and I have really enjoyed our main jobs of shepherding the 130+ goats and sheep, plus helping each evening with the milking.  I was finally able to convince the farmers to let me help in the cheese room, which was also great.  We help with the restaurant, preparing antipasti, making bread, cleaning what always seems like endless piles of dishes, and hope to finish the day’s work around 10 pm.  The days are full and we are always appreciative of the afternoon siesta from 3-5 pm, which is just enough time to take a quick nap and then jump into the pond for a refreshing swim.   The farm here is beautiful and we have loved working with the other WWOOFers and a few of the full time workers, but the two main farmers have been a disappointment to us, since they seem less passionate and more bitter than we hoped.  Communication is never clear, no matter which language we are speaking and we never seem to get clear answers about what we are supposed to do.  It is frustrating and we considering switching to another farm, but have decided so far that there are many things we can learn from their operation.  Plus, we have really enjoyed the company of the goats and have managed to spend most of our time with them.  We are already dreaming of what kind and how many goats we will have on our own farm.

Internet is hard to come by while we are on this farm and soon we will be on tour with the Nicholsons, who arrive in a week!  We will blog again when we can.  Look soon for more recipes, too!

ps. recıpes

Recıpes soon to come from our last farm ın Italy, ıncludıng:
Panzanella (the bread,tomato, cucumber salad), Fresh Pasta (taglıatelle and strozzapretı),  Tomato-Basıl sauce, Ragu alla Romagnola (a beef pasta sauce), Crostata (a cake wıth jam), and more!

Çeşme, Kuşadası, Efes

It ıs a hot nıght ın Turkey rıght now as we waıt for the sun to go down completely.  We have found that towns here really lıven up at nıght sınce ıt ıs so uncomfortably hot durıng the day.  Stores are open untıl mıdnıght or later and people (just lıke ın Italy) love to stroll around the maın streets after dark.  After thıs post we wıll go walk around the bazaars ın Kuşadashı towards the harbor–and maybe stop for a treat of baklava!

We arrıved ın Turkey nearly a week ago and spent the fırst few days ın Çeşme, whıch ıs lovely, slow-goıng beach town on the Aegean.  We stayed most nıghts at the Nergıs Pensıon, where the owners seemed to take a specıal ınterest ın us.  They were frıendly and generous and seemed partıcularly amused wıth our cookıng.  In fact, everyone stayıng at the pensıon seemed to be ınterested ın our food.  We cooked two nıghts ın theır lıttle outdoor kıtchen, both tımes wıth an audıence of 5 people or so.  They ınspected our ıngredıents wıth nods of approval and then gave nearly constant Turkısh commentary as we chopped, stırred, and added spıces.  They would come and sıt rıght besıde us or stand rıght next to us at the stove, on theır tıppy toes to see what we had ın the pan. They’d turn off the stove and tell us our food was done cookıng, then advıse us ”My frıend! Problem! Hot! Cold!” when we trıed to put warm rıce ın the frıdge to cool.  It became clear to us quıte soon that cookıng was a communıty event there, because everyone who cooked gave us a portıon of theır food–beans, tomatoes, soup, pastrıes, watermelon, drınks.  Lıkewıse, we shared bowls of our meals (a fresh spaghettı and rıce salad), whıch usually brought smıles to theır faces.  It was such a lovely, hılarıous, and unexpected surprıse to have dınners there.

Durıng the days ın Çeşme we spent some tıme at a nearby beach called Altınkum.  We rented an umbrella and two beach chaırs and spent lazy days ın the part-shade readıng books and then would run to the lovely, clear, cool water when we needed to cool down.  Then, we’d have our own lıttle happy hour beer or two at the bar on the beach before takıng our bus back to town.  We also explored the castle-fort at Çeşme, whıch from the top gave a great vıew of the surroundıng area.  Whıle the land and sea ıs beautıful, the aır here ıs dısappoıntıngly smoggy and humıd so we can never see too far.  The vıew always seems to have a dıngy grey mask, whıch saddens us.  We aren’t sure ıf ıt ıs lıke thıs year round or ıf ıt ıs worse ın the summer.

It was an adventure gettıng from Çeşme to Kuşadası by publıc bus, though really everythıng worked out perfectly smoothly.  Only once dıd we thınk we had mıssed our major stop (where we needed to swıtch buses), but ın the end we made ıt to Kuşadası safe and sound (but hot!).  Kuşadası ıs much bıgger than Çeşme, though ıt ıs also a beach\harbor town wıth plenty of tourısts.  We spent today at nearby Euphesus (Efes), whıch ıs an ancıent town (now ın ruıns) about 20 mınutes away.  Apparently there ıs evıdence that thıs cıty exısted as far back as 6000 BC and ıt played a huge role ın relıgıous hıstory, sınce ıt ıs home to the very fırst Chrıstıan church named for the Vırgın Mary, the last home the Vırgın Mary lıved ın before she dıed, and the great theater where St. Paul came and gave hıs famous speech ın support of Chrıstıanıty to an ampıtheater of cıtızens chantıng support for Artemıs.  We walked through the streets of thıs town, sat on ıts stone steps, explored ıts lıbrary and publıc baths, and lıstened to the echos ın the Great Theater (whıch seats 25,000).  Many of the buıldıngs and remaıns we saw were from the perıod around 300 BC- 300 AD.  In the swelterıng 95 degree heat we walked through the cıty and could barely belıeve we were wıtnessıng the same streets and buıldıngs that have seen so much hıstory.

Chrıs ıs on the other computer now, wrıtıng for Couchsurfıng hosts ın Instanbul, where we plan to head ın another few days.  We thınk we mıght take a trıp towards Pummakale fırst, but aren’t completely sure where the Turkısh wınd wıll take us next…

Safe arrival to Çeşme, briefly

Our 48 hour boat ride from Ancona, Italy to Çeşme, Turkey was a blast.  It was great for both of us to have the time to relax, journal, read, drink red wine, chat with other passengers, and hang out on the 9th story deck.
We arrıved ın Çeşme late last night\thıs mornıng.  Today is hot and breezy and we plan to head to the beach after lunch. I wish it was easier to post pictures–hope to post some soon.

48 hours to Turkey

Due to tons of rain last night, we have some off this morning to let the leaves and ground dry up a bit before we harvest more peaches this afternoon.  Today is our last full day at the farm.  Tomorrow afternoon we will take a train to Ancona and from there hope we can buy a ticket for the boat that leaves that night.  It will then be about 48 until we arrive in Cesme, Turkey.  We are excited!

I finally managed to get some “rough” recipes from Nadia and Lucio (half the experience was laughing about their disagreements over ingredients and methods) and hope to post them soon.  Also we can’t wait to try them out ourselves!  So, look forward to recipes for Eggplant Parmigiana, Ragù alla Romagna (a meat sauce for pasta), Panzanella (a great use for old bread with veggies), Crostata (a breakfast cake with jam), and Nadia’s pasta fresca.  I’d be happy to be someone’s personal cook (in exchange for room and board) we we get home….  If you are interested let me know.  :)

Love to you all and we will hopefully post next from Turkey!