In Search of European Gardens!

For our 25th. anniversary (my ex.- and I were married for another 5) and my 46th. birthday, we went to Europe. Periodically, through the haze of exhaustion from the 20+ hours of transcontinental traveling (not first class, of course!), the amazement and awe that we were actually there managed to surface.
We spent our first night in Chur, Switzerland, where my ex.'s office manager grew up. Coincidentally, the love-of-my-life, of 7 years (anniversary 4-27), Heinz, was born in Basil and came over on 'the boat', in steerage. Our hotel was in the Old Town which IS really old. Unfortunately, the bathroom was 'sunken' by one 3" step and when I walked out, slammed my big toe, which to this day I refer to as my 'Swiss Toe' when the weather changes!
Driving there, from Zurich, we could see the snow-covered Alps and drove through some lush and unchanged landscapes. Everything seemed so solid there: the buildings look like they've been there forever and will remain forever. Even the furniture looked sturdy and clean.
I was so focused on learning Italian and that we weren't going to stay long in Switzerland, that it never occurred to me how lost we would have been with the language. Ordering dinner was a project! The waitress gave us two menus, including an English version. The food has been tasty but very fatty.
Our hotel was located in a very quiet part of town, even though it is next to the BELL TOWER! we were so tired we hardly noticed the bells. It rained, with thunder and lightning while we had dinner: wonderfully cooling and calming.
After a lovely buffet breakfast, we took off driving at 8:30 toward Florence. We hadn't really decided what we would do until we got on the road. Since we decided the night before to skip Rome, we went on an adventure to find a garden in Bellagio. We gook the Splugenpass from Switzerland to Italy, which skirted the east side of Lake Como. The map said it was a local thoroughfare: barely two lane road over the mountains with literally over a hundred hairpin turns and switchbacks. A major diving challenge, but what country! Little stone houses with slate roof, clustered at the base of the peaks, wild flowers dotting the hillsides. At one point, we took a turn and heard bells, not church bells, but COW BELLS: hundred of cow bells, all a bit different, clanging away on these beautiful, soft-eyed beasts with straps, each somewhat different and well-crafted. A long but exquisite drive. The road around Lago di Como was incredibly narrow and no one but we drove slowly. When we got to Monnagio, we took the ferry to Bellagio to see the Villa di Melzi Gardens. The gardens were sprawling and relatively open(informal). There was a grotto, water garden with Japanese influence, and balusters that set off the front a of a plain, boxy villa. It had some fine touches but basically unremarkable. When we finally got to Como and the Autostraud, my ex. was in his element: being passed at 75mph! Not too bad a ride, until we had road construction, that directed us onto the other side of the freeway, going into opposing traffic! At least we were not alone.
We made great time until we got to Bologna. We go to the Centro all right but got lost looking for one of the possible hotels. It took an hour to get un-lost, stumble into a different hotel, that at 8:00pm still had a vacancy. What a day! The next day we planned to drive an hour to Florence, find a place and stay a couple of days.
We think about the kids often but try not to talk about it too much. They both chose vacations that will force them to grow and become self-reliant. We know there will be pain, but it should be worth it. We miss them and worry, but trust their strength.
We welcomed the morning at 12:00am although we went to bed around 10:30pm. The noise on the street below: motorbikes whining, students sitting on the steps partying and shop keepers dumping glass bottles in the garbage, kept us up and then sleeping fitfully. We got up at 8am, showered and took off to explore the city. We went to the Pinacoteca Nazionale (Art Museum) and then found breakfast across from Palazzo del Podesta, P. dei ReEnzo & the Basilica di San Pentronio. The Basilica was quite impressive inside, though unfinished outside. Then we went to Torre degli Asinelli and climbed 500+ steps to the top for an incredible view of the entire city-definitely worth the sweat! We got lost a few times but managed to get back to the parking lot and took off. Got lost again trying to get out of the city but finally did it.
Hit Florence around 3pm.-got lost trying to find the hotel but once again survived and got a room. At 4pm the ex. got impatient to get going so we walked to the Duomo, after first getting lost again, ending up at the Church of Santa Croce where Michelangelo, Dante & Machiavelli are entombed. After the Duomo, we went to the museum behind it to see the Pieta and the Ghiberti Doors: magnificent.
The Hotel Linea that we discovered that night was such an oasis with it's garden in the rear and the history of being the British Embassy previously. We stayed there a total of three nights.
My ex. was so excited that night about seeing Florence if probably affected his sleep (along with the traffic noises below). After breakfast we planned to see the Academia but the long lines at 9am convinced us to take off to the Pitti Palace: that was an awesome experience-seeing Rubens and Titans, Rafael, Donatello & Tinteretto, everything crammed on every square inch of wall space. We then went back into the Boboli Gardens. I guess I was expecting something more formal and elaborate. It was more forest/park with a couple of pool/fountains that were noteworthy and some lovely arbor walks.
On the way to the gardens, we went over the Ponte Vecchio across the Arno. We then stood in line for an hour to see the Uffizi Gallery, chatting with an American mother & Julianna, the 21yr. old daughter. The Uffizi was spectacular, especially the Bottacelli room Leonardo de Vinci's unfinished, work and Michelangelo's "Doni Tondo" (Sacred Family) was vibrant! After a quick snack, we went back to the Duomo to see the rest that we missed before: the crypt, where during repair of the floors following the floods in '69 they discovered an earlier church and Roman ruins. Then we climbed 473 steps to the Cuppola of the Duomo-and a 360 degree view of Florence!
Then out to a fabulous dinner at the Tuscana and finally back to the hotel. The ex. set the pace and I'm devilishly pleased to see his exhaustion as well as my own!
The next day we woke up at 3am scratching-probably from the heat and dry skin. He stayed up-I got a couple more hours. Then we wolfed down some ham & cheese Croissant sandwiches and rushed off to the Academia di Bella Arte-got there @ 8am-second in line! Chatted with a couple of Aussies to pass the time. And then there was the David and also the Captives! Truly a religious experience! It was said that the David was the only art you ever have to see: it definitely does spoil you!
We then went to the Medici Chapel (and Lorenzo) and saw more Michelangelo: Dawn, Dusk, Night & Day (Juliano's crypt); beautifully fluid. Then we got to see the Palazzo Bargello National Museum-Donatello, Michelangelo & Cellini in abundance and Amanatti & Gianbologna as well-fabulous sculptures and mock-ups for works Michelangelo did. Leta & the Swan and bronze and marble David by Donatelli.
We came back, made reservations for tomorrow night, napped and raced off to see the Archeology Museum with only 45 minutes before closing. We saw ancient Egyptian artifacts-mummies & urns and some rather racey Etruscian pottery. Then we searched for a lunch place and finally settled on a tourist spot that was still open at 2:30pm-got fleeced but fed. Came back, slept and went to look for dinner.
And then we saw "HIM"; or rather heard him singing as he strolled along behind us: a young Italian in blue jeans, sipping a soda; small but athletic build with a spring in his step. He passed us and we got to watch him in action. A gorgeous young lady passed him and all he could do was quietly stare and stare as she passed. But most of the subsequent females got audibly appreciated with a smacking kiss to his palm and a cute little skipping step-once he looked back at us while the three of us laughed together at his joy. He, alone, was worth the trip!
Bright and early, we left Florence and started for Cinque Terra. Our first stop were the Gardens at Villa di Marlia, outside of Lucca. We had an Italian-speaking guide for an hour of a most spectacular combination of formal & informal layout: Swans & koi in long, rectangular, formal pond, grotto, lawns, outdoor theatre w/ pruned hedges, citrus & magnolia garden-many outdoor rooms-including an open canal system (a la Alhambra) throughout. Wow! Now that's more like it!
Then we stopped briefly in Massa to look for Villa Massini but no luck; ex. wasn't too enthusiastic anyway.
On to Carrara to see the marble hills and to have a greasy, from-scratch pizza cooked in a wood-burning bread oven that took 1 hour to cook and wasn't nearly enough! We could have cleaned them out! Then we took another windy local road from La Spieza to the Italian Riviera at Levanto-Hotel Stella Maris-what luck! Rooms filled with antique furniture & frescoes on the ceiling-dinner & breakfast included-the best food on the trip! Quiet, cooler, no mosquitoes-a great night's sleep after CNN in English.
The next morning we were off to explore La Cinque Terra on foot. After a marvelous breakfast, with some stashed for lunch, we began our hike at 9am and didn't get back until after 5pm. the hiking was predominantly uphill along narrow stone paths, interspersed with stairs. Sometimes were were walking along the tops of narrow stone retaining walls above someone's grape arbor. The hills all over were terraced all the way to the top-olive trees with orange nets below to catch the crop, gardens with beans, tomatoes, bananas and grapes. We passed through several plant communities-chaparral and pine forests, oaks & ferns-here's a partial list of the recognizable flora: Arbutus unedo, Hakea, Italian Stone Pine, Rhamnus alaternus, Cistus, Chamise, Queen Anne's Lace, ferns, oaks, Sparteum juncium (real Scotch Broom), Euphorbia (Gopher Purge), red poppy, sage, Agave, Eleagnus, Dianthus, Prunus caroliniana and wild buckwheat. Meanwhile, all along, there were breath-taking view of the Mediterranean and the Cinque Terra, nestled into the rock hillsides. We stopped at Verrazza (after 4-1/2 hours) and took the train to Monterrosa. Also Il Gigante was fabulous! At Riomaggiore we hiked up and stopped for my favorite: fresh tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and basil. Then we waited for the last train back to Levanto. While we were waiting, we befriended five young men from Berkeley High who knew my sister, the Vice Principal!!! Then back to the room for another spectacular dinner. The previous night we had an eggplant parmesan that was layered and delicious as our second course.
After another marvelous breakfast, with some stashed as lunch, we took our leave of our host family. Upon departing, we were given a gift of wine-perhaps partly my alerting them to the piddle-puddle their old dog made on the floor at dinner the night before. Very sweet people-sorry to leave our room filled with antiques and the beautiful countryside. We unsuccessfully looked for t-shirts for the kids-everything was made in the USA!
So we took off for Aosta-muddled around town for close to an hour looking for hotels. Stumbled upon one but didn't care for the look of it, so got directions to the Milleluci-we were so relieved to find it; but when they showed us their last room, for 90,000 lire + 10,000 for breakfast, I was truly disappointed. Our view was of a concrete wall! But the ex. was too tired to go any further. As it turned out, it was the quietest night we've spent here-we were in an attic room, with huge tree-logs for beams and an aromatic cedar closet. The view: they were building an addition and if you climbed out the window & picked our way through debris, you were rewarded with a panoramic view of the valley.
After we settled in our rooms, we went out for the evening. We bought t-shirts, saw the ruins of a Roman outdoor theatre, strolled the cobblestone alleys and ate dinner in a wine cellar-veal stew and polenta. We also had looked in at the cathedral earlier and found out there was to be a concert of some sort that evening. So after dinner, we returned to attend a free International Organ Concert! The place was mobbed and being covered by Italian TV. The choral group wasn't too excit9ng but the soloists and the string orchestra were spectacular. And what acoustics! Found our hotel in 5 minutes in the dark.
Another fine breakfast, with lunch smuggled out. Got directions to the Fenis Castle. The 1/2 hour tour in Italian wasn't terribly enlightening and we didn't get to see some of the rooms that were closed. I was looking forward to the kitchen and the armory. Even so, it was impressive- a real, rock castle with turrets and massive fireplaces set in amongst immense peaks, still covered in snow in July. We continued up toward Zurich. The last big push. All on the Autostrade but still about 4 hours of driving. May have caught a glimpse of the Materhorn-but definitely lots of castles-on hillsides, built into the natural rock, on islands...
Almost out of gas, stopped at a station where the owner also sold his home-grown produce. A box of cherries helped us on our way to find a place to stay. No idea where. Except that we wanted to be as close to the airport as possible and away from Zurich. So we scouted out a mall town of Kloten. He stopped at a restaurant and asked for a recommendation for a cheap place to stay. Without too much trouble, we found it: a couple of rooms above a small restaurant in a beautiful mostly small commercial/residential area-for $100/night: bath & shower down the hall. The owner, a vibrant woman, spoke English and helped us through the menu. We wondered close to the area, found a park and lay in the shade of a walnut tree. We had a filling and tasty dinner and crashed at 9pm.
It was a fine trip and saw an amazing variety of sights and met some very kind and sympathetic folks.

TAKE A STROLL THROUGH THE GARDENS OF THE WORLD: THE TRUE SENSE OF BEING GROUNDED TO THE EARTH.

Gardens began as subsistence plots, generating fruits and vegetables in abundance and Physic Gardens for herbs and medicines, in virtually every culture on the planet, once hunting and gathering got old.

Beauty in the Garden became a goal and enjoyment of the natural world has flourished from palatial estates to balcony gardens.

When I step into a Garden, often it’s as if I’ve stepped through a travel portal into another time. I not only feel connected to the designer and learn from the classic masters, but also a connection with those who have enjoyed these gems, be they Counts & Countesses, famous artists, the landed gentry to the tenders of humble Victory Gardens during the War.
TRANSPORT yourself into the arbor promenade and feel the rustle of the full skirts and corseted hour-glass waists; the art of strolling was a well-practiced activity which calms the mind and GETS YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE!
These people knew how to entertain guests and throw awesome parties. The open spaces were cultivated to encourage PLAYFULNESS & INTREGUE. ROMANTIC fern grottos and mazes, follies and ha-ha's (that's a hidden fence), classic ruins, stone and brick garden walls define each space, while fountains, acre-sized lakes and statuary, provide beauty and all the senses are stimulated.
I was introduced to England's rich gardening heritage, and Monet's Gardens, Giverney, on a fabulous garden tour provided by Smith and Hawken.
One extraordinary garden artist is Ivan Hicks. This is a must-see for those intrepid gardeners/artists who are willing to think out-of-the-box and 'round the bend! Visitors to the garden rarely behave in expected ways: whoops of discovery, giggles, awe and delight are the order of the day. Watch out for spare body parts!
"Ivan Hicks is very likely England's drollest garden artist. For, in a whimsical design style of a decidedly surrealistic bent, Hicks' art succeeds in deftly combining respect for mythic tradition to a profoundly modern worldview.

Hicks' garden designs are rooted in the Earth itself, baring the influence of ancient Celtic mythology, and in particular, its worship of trees."
http://www.offthefence.com/content/programme.php?EpID=123&ID=42&Categories=3


In Search of European Gardens!

Grow your own produce

Lynette Evans
"We're not there yet, but the fear of another Great Depression runs deep in our collective memories," e-mailed landscape designer Barbara Bernie of Los Altos. "We Baby Boomers have all heard stories of food rationing and survival tricks during one of the bleakest chapters in our national economic history, and maybe then we laughed at grandparents who just couldn't throw that old ball of twine or wrapping paper away. Not anymore!

"Victory Gardens began in Britain during the war ('Plant more in '44!') as a way to help lower the price of vegetables needed to feed the troops, and during World War II, lawns from Hyde Park in London to San Francisco's Golden Gate Park were transformed into Victory Gardens. Twenty million Americans grew 40 percent of all the vegetable produce consumed nationally during the Victory Garden campaign."

Berkeley Sitters Barking Up the Wrong Trees

By Simone Wilson
Senior Staff Writer
Monday, Dec. 1, 2008
If, after selflessly sacrificing nearly two full years of your life, hunched in a scratchy hammock and passing your excrement down in buckets, to the cause of protecting a helpless, peaceful forest from a jock-loving pack of bureaucratic tyrants — if, after all that, you still don’t have the support of the Berkeley student body — chances are, your gameplan really needs some rethinking.
So how did a group of 10 proactive nonstudents manage to mess up what seemed like a flawless step-by-step to fit in with every tree-hugging hippie to ever walk the Northern California plains?
Let’s start with species choice. As irreplaceable rainforests all over South America are chipped at daily to make space for lumber and cattle — or, if in-continent is your thing, as old-growth forests find themselves floored and cookie-cuttered into vast suburban tracts throughout the United States, at exponential rates — the 10-odd starring participants in UC Berkeley’s now-infamous tree-sit chose two summers ago to protect, drum roll please, a grove of common oaks planted in a landscaping project back in the 1920s, in danger of being sheared by a big-bad athletic structure set to be erected for use by the varsity sports teams later that year.
Even if they had been heartbreakingly old or high on the endangered list above such wrenching items as cute baby tigers, the oaks — in an isolated grove surrounded by the concrete and various man-made surfaces of a college campus (that is, if we’re not still pretending the “green” is some thriving meadow in which wildlife still flits and tweets) — could not have been crucial to much aside from oxygen production and general nature feng shui. Which is why, in initial attempts at negotiation, the university promised to plant three new trees on campus for each oak that took the axe.
But, in virtually the only reasoning the sitters ever provided besides love for Mother Earth, they threw around vague and unproven claims that the trees in fact sat atop historic American Indian grounds. The project’s Web site, www.saveoaks.com, refers to a mysterious “Grandmother Oak” stump they now wish to remove from the grove, even devote to the creation of “drums and other religious artifacts.” Even if they cannot be condemned for simply being inarticulate, if their movement wished to find any real momentum, it needed a clear-cut reason for being so stubborn — one that could perhaps engage those not in touch with the spiritual whisperings of the sacred oak grove.
“I see your slogans chalked on the sidewalks. I see your Tibetan prayer flags. I pass through clouds of your collective body odor and exhaled marijuana smoke,” reads the now-famous November 2007 “Open letter to Berkeley Tree-Sitters” on Craigslist, which many still reference in voicing their frustration with the protest. “Having observed your actions for quite some time now, sometimes I wonder if you’ve ever considered just how much damage you’re doing to legitimate pro-environment, pro-leftist movements everywhere.” With not so much as the staunchest of environmentalists on their side — aside from, of course, the appreciated few available to lower their waste buckets — the tree-sitters indeed undermined the liberal expression of discontent by making it into a spineless, unorganized game.
This precedent, unfortunately, may extend to the future punishment of such protests. In the end, after spending a hard-to-come-by $125 million on security and police enforcement — not to mention a wrap-around eight-foot chain-link fence erected around the protestors, at which point they drew the bold, sidewalk-chalk analogy “Guantanamo Berkeley” — university officials have dragged the tree-sitters to court, twigs still poking from their dreads-for-the-cause. A high-school career’s worth of community service and five days behind bars (and they thought the chain-link was spirit-crushing) hardly compares to the thousands of dollars the university plans to drain from the key participants, probably without a thousand dollars to speak of, in reparations. Certainly, we can agree, it could have been worse. But no matter one’s stance on the justness of these consequences, there is a standard now set for any legitimate environmental stake-out: Could a construction company sue for protester reparations, because their latest tract won’t be done in time for the fleet of U-Hauls and shiny-happy families?
Readers can contact Simone Wilson at siwilson@ucsd.edu.