Tuscany Archives - Page 2 of 3

Tuscany Archives - Page 2 of 3 - Itch.world

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picture of boy holding an umbrella watching the Scampanata in Anghiari Italy

May 1, 2020 In Best Of, Live By Nancy

Intrigue, humiliation, and cake batter

I am feeling wistful that today would have started the month of the Scampanata, which happens every five years, and only in Anghiari. It is one of my favorite things about our village. In 1621 it was described as an ancient village tradition and was only postponed during two World Wars. And now.

Please do me the honor of reading the description below and watching the video and let us all pause for a moment and appreciate the things that make us human and connect us and that we do for the sheer joy of it. The things that we will need to rebuild and reinvent. The things I miss the most. (Article below originally posted in 2019).

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I want to jump through the screen, grab you, and say “You will watch this. Now.” Then direct you by holding your shoulder, with no refusals allowed, to the best screen in your environment, and I’d click here. Cause this story and video are my favorites yet.

But I am sitting on a Tuscan terrace overlooking a valley filled with rolled hay and sunflowers eating cacio and pepe made by actual Romans so I can’t. Instead I will use my words, as I always used to tell the kids.

I am going to tell you about this event that embodies what I love about Italy—it’s highly-local, quirky, and resonate with deep human fears and joys. Every five years, in the village of Anghiari, an ancient rite unfolds, but with up-to-the-minute alliances, tricks, and grudges. It’s the Scampanta. The centuries-old society that ensures that the Anghiarese do not oversleep. (The verb scampare means to be a near thing, a close call.)

The rules are simple. You volunteer to join the Society of the Scampanata and show up in the piazza three times a week, in the month of May, by the time the bells strike 6 in the morning. And you sign in. That’s it. Sounds so simple. And harmless. The complication is that if you oversleep a fate worse than what you can imagine awaits—and we’ve all had pretty horrible dreams about the repercussions of sleeping through the alarm.

Trouble is, it may not just be up to you and your alarm. In a small community tiny slights can build momentum and every five years is about the right pressure-release timer to get back at that person who always parks in your spot, or hasn’t mowed the meadow as promised. And as you need to be born in Anghiari, or a resident for at least ten years, to participate the social connections are deep and complex.

If you are late to check in you turn yourself over to the Society for your fate. If you live out of town there are people who will drive to your house to fetch you—sometimes with a police escort. Some days during the month everybody is there on time and you can feel the sense of disappointment in the assembled crowd.

You really need to see the video to see what fate awaits those who oversleep or are somehow prevented from arriving in time. Some unfortunates have woken up to find their front door bricked shut during the night. Others have had their cars lifted onto blocks in the wee hours and all four tires removed. Still others have been convinced by friends to go with them to play a trick on someone far from town and had the tables turned—finding themselves fooled into getting out of the car and then stranded in the woods.

It must have been really hard to make sure you woke up on time in the days before alarm clocks. There’s a history of Anghiari that was written in 1621 that refers to the Scampanata as an ancient event at the time. Not hard to imagine that its roots run deep into Spring rituals around the need to plant and till the land.

And it is unique. No other place on Earth has the Scampanata.

Next time you want to hit the snooze button just remember the lyrics of the Scampanata song:

“Scampanata, scampanata
in Spring you return to our halls
to visit the lazy who stay in bed
to break their sleep and their balls”

February 23, 2020 In Best Of, Chow By Nancy

Things locals want you to know about eating in Tuscany

Here’s a sneak peek of an article I am writing for SmarterTravel. The article will cover ten tips but I wanted to share an excerpt before it is published.

After living in Tuscany for eight years I still treasure eating the food every day, but the bigger discovery for me was realizing what a key part food plays in making the Italian lifestyle so special. I’ve noticed things that visitors often misunderstand when they travel to Tuscany that make eating less fun and delicious. So—here’s an insider’s list of Tuscan food tips.

Coffee rules

In all senses of that word.

First of all, what you drink is a caffè and where you do it is called a bar. Italians tend to have several cups of coffee a day and usually stand at the bar and drink them quickly. (At some bars there is a higher price if you sit at a table.) A caffè is single shot of espresso. Coffee is served a bit cooler than many people expect because the Italians believe that things that are too hot, or too cold, like iced drinks, are bad for the digestion. And locals would never drink a cappuccino after noon (because too much milk after lunch is … bad for the digestion.)

I learned early on that a way around the cappuccino rule, keeping your street credibility, but not having to go all the way to drinking an espresso after lunch is to order a caffè macchiato which is an espresso with a small dab of milk either caldo (hot and steamed) or freddo (cold).

For a more adventurous coffee experience try a caffè corretto, literally a corrected coffee, which is an espresso with a shot of alcohol, most commonly grappa, sambuca, or brandy. In our town this is a frequent early-morning treat before the wild boar hunters go out to the fields with their loaded guns.

Marie Kondo your pizza

Less is more when it comes to pizza. I asked a friend who is a waiter the biggest thing he wishes he could say to non-Italian customers. He said people miss the point when they try to pile on too many toppings on a pizza. The best pizza is the simplest and allows wonderful ingredients to shine through. A pizza margherita shows off what happens when the right flour, water, and yeast are married to a wonderful tomato sauce and mozzarella (buffalo mozzarella is great). Pizzas are ordered one per person. Oh, and the worst sin for my waiter friend is when someone orders a pizza with a cappuccino.

Take your time

In most of Tuscany, outside of tourist centers, restaurants aren’t trying to squeeze more than one seating into a lunch or dinner window. This means that meals are leisurely breaks and usually multi-course. Trying to rush through this type of meal is not only largely impossible, but also likely to earn a puzzled and concerned look from the server, and probably the chef as well.

Lunch is traditionally the biggest meal and on weekends, or in more traditional restaurants, will include an antipasti course of bruschetta or sliced meats like prosciutto, fennel salami, and local cheeses, followed by pasta (the primi course) followed by meats (the secondi). Meats usually come solo and vegetables and potatoes are ordered separately as contorni but meant to be shared by the table. Dessert, coffee, and perhaps a digestive, like a grappa, follow.

Sunday lunch is the highlight of the week for many Italians and well worth indulging in. Seeing large families gathering for a lunch that lingers far into the afternoon is a special treat to enjoy.

December 8, 2019 In Best Of, Live By Nancy

Postcard from a lunch in the woods

I’m at the Antica Farmacia dei Monaci Camaldolesi and it is lunchtime and I am hungry. I have just driven through miles of lonely, misty forest to get to the monastery and I’m surprised to see a restaurant opposite that’s open. I cross a little bridge over a rushing stream in a gorge in the forest and go in. I am the only person there and am shown to a table near a small wood burning stove.

The menu features lots of wild boar, freshly made focaccia, and sausages cooked over a fire. I order and another woman comes in wearing a forestry uniform and packing a gun. The owner follows her to the table carrying a large, freshly peeled carrot on a plate and puts in in front of her as soon as she sits. She quickly eats the carrot. The owner than asks her how the health routine is going and if she’d like her usual salad for lunch. With cheese. And her usual quarter litre of white wine. She agrees.

Two men enter, both dressed in a similar uniform, and also carrying guns. They look over at the woman, and she looks back at them, and the most restrained greeting I’ve ever seen in Italy is exchanged. They are then seated at the other side of the otherwise empty restaurant.

She leaves soon after. I wonder what the real story is. I think of how lonely it would be to work with people in the middle of nowhere that you wouldn’t want to have lunch with.

December 8, 2019 In Best Of, Roam By Nancy

Gift inspirations: potions and lotions from monks

Last week I made the trek up into the mountains to the Monastery of Camaldoli to buy gifts at the Antica Farmacia dei Monaci Camaldolesi, or the Ancient Pharmacy of the Monks. Usually “ancient” can be a bit of an exaggeration but I think its use is justified in this case as they have been making healing medicine at this place since May 1048. A couple of monks, Guido and Pietro, rented some land (in perpetuity) located right outside the monastery to raise herbs for healing treatments for the newly established pilgrim hospital. The monks have been at it ever since. And they have quite the collections of books of botany and herbal recipes from over the years.

This place feels like it is on another planet. I visited once before for Itch (and wrote about the funny coincidence of this monastery having satellites in Big Sur and Berkeley) and both times I have visited it has been very misty and mysterious.

The monastery and the hermitage, which is a few miles further up the hill and deeper into the woods, are located in the Casentino Forest, one of the largest forested tracks in Europe famous for deer, wild boar, and wolves. The sounds of rushing water are everywhere and the smell of pine and clean air wonderful.

The products I’ve tried have been really good — from the kinda-life-changing foot cream to the teas to the soaps — and I love what they make because of the history, but also because I am becoming more and more aware of the thin thread by which so much of Italian “maker” heritage hangs. The artisans and small businesses creating so much of what Italy is known for are finding it harder to thrive, or to exist at all, in the face of global competition and the relentless drive towards lower prices (and quality). I love supporting this kind of enterprise, where things are still made locally, and not in a huge factory overseas and then a label slapped on.

The Farmacia ships worldwide, and has a 10% discount available on checkout. I found their US shipping prices a bit high so also found another site with lower shipping rates to the US, but not as full a range of Camaldoli products.

A couple of products I have that would make lovely presents or stocking stuffers:

— The Foot Cream. Visitors to the house roll their eyes when I insist that they try this before bed. And then they steal mine. Get your own.

— Herbal Tisane Tea. I am sipping on #3 at the moment, which is a delicious mix of chamomile, lemon balm, and other mysterious things. It’s soothing but not boring.

— Shampoos. I’ve tried a variety of these and liked them all.

They offer a range of other products I want to try from toothpaste to arnica gel to honey to colognes, an increasing amount organic. I love the packaging and labels as well.

November 24, 2019 In Best Of, Live By Nancy

Holiday gift inspirations from Italy: Busatti

The love affair started started when Sebastian, then age eight, shot his Nerf gun through a window at a bride-to-be preparing for her wedding day. He managed to hit Anna-Sophie in the head with a foam bullet while she was doing her hair and got one of the best dirty looks in history. The first meeting was not promising.

We had moved to Tuscany that day and into a house in the countryside for a few weeks, so that the kids could start school, until our ten-month rental in town became available.

It was the same day that the son of the family who rented us the house, Livio, was marrying a lovely woman from Germany, Anna-Sophie, who was staying with her family in the house next door. The groom’s father explained away the Nerf incident by attributing it to the DNA of my husband, John, who he believed to be a part of the US Special Forces (for those who know John this is laughable) rather than the barbaric nature of eight-year old boys. How this very funny case of mistaken identity occurred we are still not sure even seven years later.

Despite the first encounter we all became fast friends and Anna-Sophie agreed to show Sebastian the Italian ropes for the first year or so, a curriculum much helped by liberal applications of Coca Cola, almost daily lunches with the extended family, and Angry Birds games every day after school at the local cafe during “study” sessions.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that Livio is the sixth generation of a family who makes some of the highest quality, and best designed textiles in the world, called Busatti. They have stores worldwide, and are represented in high-end stores (dog whistle here) like ABC, Aero Studios, and John Derian in New York, Diptyque in Paris, Sue Fisher King in San Francisco, and Neiman Marcus.

Busatti started (in the same building as the current headquarters) in 1755 as a bit of a catch-all mercantile that shifted to cloth production in 1797 when soldiers from Napoleon’s army moved into the top floors of the store and brought an enormous, steam-driven loom to make wool into uniforms and blankets which was installed in the basement. By 1799 the Busatti family had taken back control of their store and the weaving equipment which the army left behind—it’s massive. The machines still crank away in the basement, although now driven by electricity rather than steam.

After the equipment sat dormant for several decades Mario Busatti added eight wooden looms, a warping machine, and a staff of ten in 1842 . They’ve been at it ever since.

I love that Busatti products are a perfect mix of tradition, still largely produced on punch card driven looms, and innovative designs under the capable leadership of Livio and his brother Stefano. I go in frequently to get seasonal inspiration because there is always something new to see. Plus they will special order anything you can imagine—bedding and table linens to any dimension, color, etc.

But let me cut to the chase. I can recommend some things that would make great gifts and they ship worldwide. Best of all, Anna-Sophie and Livio are giving a special discount of 20% to Itch readers through the holiday season. Make sure to click on this link to get the discount.

Here are my three favorite things from Busatti for gifts—although your discount covers anything on the site.

I have many of these wonderful stripey dish/tea towels and they give me pleasure every time I use them.

They are 60% linen and 40% cotton, come in a wide range of colors, you can get them plain or with embroidery, and they wash beautifully because they are thread-dyed so they don’t fade. (They call this weave Melograno.) I also love the weave called Due Fragole which also comes in a wide range of beautiful colors.

About a year ago I splurged and bought a linen robe which makes me happy every morning. Mine is in this beautiful not-too-light blue and washes well—I line dry and don’t iron and it’s soft and for me, nicely wrinkled.

But the slate gray robe is also jaw-dropping to me (and several friends who have succumbed.)

Busatti has just launched Mario the Blanket in honor of Mario Busatti. I haven’t purchased it yet, but really want one. It’s not quite large enough for a bed, but would be fantastic to cuddle up with on a sofa. It’s made of an interesting mix of cotton, wool, and seaweed fibers, which are supposed to have potent antioxidant properties and looks and feels lovely.

To shop, make sure you enter through shop.busatti.com/discount/ITCH20 to get the 20% discount. They ship to the outside Italy using UPS at reasonable rates and you will be supporting a fantastic family business as well as giving a lovely gift.

(Thanks to Busatti for the wonderful photos, which are all their copyright with the exception of the video and wrinkly robe photo, which are mine.)

November 3, 2019 In Best Of, Roam By Nancy

Terme di Saturnia

It seems that at least once a week on social media I am seeing a photo of the rather otherworldly Terme di Saturnia. I wanted to see what it was really like and went during the fantastic Itch getaway to Sorano.

Just to get this out of the way, it is truly beautiful. This cascade, the Cascate del Mulino, is part of a large complex of hot springs. Hot, sulphurous water (99.5 degrees) is warmed by the volcano underneath and gushes from the earth at 800 liters per second, coursing down the hill into these perfect little pools. It’s free, unfenced, and always accessible.

The downside is that you do have to come prepared. There’s nowhere to change but in your car, the pools and parking can get really crowded, water shoes are a good idea as the rocks get very slippery, and there are minimal food and facilities available, so it’s all very do it yourself.

We were wimps and came and explored around the pools and then headed further towards the source to the Spa and Golf Resort Terme di Saturnia to “take the waters.” I find the thermal spa culture in Italy fascinating and was eager to compare this to my prior experience at the Terme San Giovanni, among others. People of all ages and body shapes come, very intently going back and forth between linked swimming pools of different temperatures and scooping of handfuls of white sulphur and other minerals from the bottom of the pools to slather all over their bodies. Robes and slippers around the pools are a must. The Terme di Saturnia has just moved to a “Wellness Wears White” slogan (yeah, I know) and new policy dictating that all robes and towels have to be white (which they provide for an extra fee if you don’t bring your own). It’s a very, very Italian crowd and was a fantastic afternoon.

October 27, 2019 In Best Of, Roam By Nancy

Why Sorano is one of my favorite places

I’m always on a quest to find amazing corners of Italy that aren’t widely known. Back when I was starting Itch I asked an Italian friend, one of the most curious and smart-about-Italy people I know, what were some places I had to go. He replied instantly. Pitigliano. So I went and fell in love, especially with the village of Sorano. I have mixed feelings about writing about this area of southern Tuscany, right between Orvieto and the Maremma coast, because it is so wonderful and undiscovered. But it is also too good for friends not to know about. Promise not to share.

I’ve now been twice in two months, which is a first for me. In addition to a cluster of lovely villages this area has one of the most evocative hot springs or terme in Italy, the Terme di Saturnia. It was also a major Etruscan stomping ground and has some mysterious and haunting traces of these lost people. The Etruscans lived in central Italy prior to the Romans in the 10th – 9th centuries BCE (and gave their name to Tuscany). Not much is known about them because they left only a few examples of a complex written language that has only partially been translated.

One thing they did leave behind are a set of roads in this area carved deep into the soft volcanic rock, or tufa. These underground roads have walls that tower up to 20 meters in places, and you can still see a few ancient chisel marks. There are miles of these trails which connect Pitigliano to Sorano and Sovana. Along the way they also lead to ancient necropolises. No one knows why they were built but hiking along them is memorable, especially as they two times I’ve done it I’ve only passed a couple of other people.

Because the area has such soft rock there are caves everywhere. Just outside of Sorano is Vitozza, a lost city that was inhabited from the 1200s to the 1800s. The from parking to the archeological site is along a path beside a river where you pass cave after cave, all fronted by brightly covered doors, a couple with “for sale” signs. These give way to the more ancient settlement with its ruins of two castles and a church, and over 200 caves which were used as both houses and stables for animals. You can still see niches and supports for beds carved into the walls.

Another Etruscan archeological site of the Citta’ Del Tufo complex is just outside of the one-street village of Sovana and has a cluster of large tombs with some very cool statues.

But for me one of the best things is the village of Sorano, which I much preferred to the slightly more known Pitigliano. And we found a fantastic place to stay, the Hotel Della Fortezza, in the Orsini family castle from 1200.

John and I just stayed in the tower. Yep, we had the whole tower over the drawbridge. It’s a bit rough around the edges but the cost was around 120€, including breakfast.

Both times I visited I only spent a night and felt rushed to try to see all the interesting things to do in the area. I’d suggest taking a few days. After all the hiking a visit to the famed Terme di Saturnia was needed — details next week.

September 29, 2019 In Best Of, Live By Nancy

Dinner theater and the Genoa disaster

Few Italians will forget where they were the moment they heard about the collapse of the Ponte Morandi bridge in Genoa, which killed 43 and left over 600 people homeless. It hit a nerve beyond the sheer horror of the disaster. Italians are master engineers and pride (I’d venture to say even define) themselves on the beauty and engineering elegance of their creations, especially in the heyday of the Italian economic boom of the 1950s and 60s. This 1963 bridge, designed by Riccardo Morandi, was internationally famous for its beauty, but also for its bold use of structural concrete, and the collapse was a blow to national dignity.

(image from the Financial Times)

But beyond that the collapse speaks to the Italian belief that corruption is endemic and that the common people pay the price. The bridge was maintained by the Autostrade per l’Italia company (largely owned by Benetton) which is a hugely-profitable monopoly running the network of expensive to use, but fast, roads in Italy. Turns out the inspection company has ties to, and shares offices with, the company they are chartered to inspect and regulate.

Which brings us to Anghiari’s annual play, the Tovaglia a Quadri, dinner theater created, produced, and performed by a small team over a course of ten nights in August. Tovaglia a Quadri is written weeks before the performances so the topics are fresh, and it serves as an annual hard look in the mirror about the issues challenging Italy and village life. (Here’s Itch on last year’s play about how Amazon is changing local life.)

(all photos from Tovaglia a Quadri, including at top, courtesy of Giovanni Santi.)

This year, with the Genoa disaster looming in the background, they wrote about our local brush with dangerous bridges. The E45, which is the longest north-south freeway in Europe (starting in Alta, Norway and ending 5,190 kilometers away in Gela, Sicily) runs right through our valley. The section that goes to the Adriatic coast passes over some really high, long viaducts. Soon after the Genoa disaster a truffle hunter in a forest under one of these massive bridges happened to look up and notice the horrible condition of the bottom of the roadway and took some pictures. The result was this major artery of Europe being completely closed for months while the situation was assessed. (It’s now been “solved” by opening only one lane, slowing the speed limit to a crawl, and limiting heavy trucks. Every time I have to drive it I hold my breath.)

The irony for the writing team of Andrea Merendelli and Paolo Pennacchini is that where the truffle hunter took the photos was on a 2,000 year old Etruscan road, still viable, and used even today for the migration of animals from the mountains near us to Maremma on the Tuscan coast, called the transumanza. The bridge that is failing was built only 25 years ago. And there’s the added dimension that our valley shut a flow of traffic, goods, and ideas from across Europe. (Politics, anyone?) The title of this year’s play is ViaDotta, which is translated as viaduct, but also via, or way, of dotta, which is between wisdom and knowledge.

The plot follows from there, including a scheme from a local entrepreneur to showcase the transumanza to local tourists, against the will of the locals who love their pets but are not in favor of other domesticated animals being in such close proximity. In a very funny scene the entrepreneur insists that the shepherd he hires change from his usual attire of a t-shirt and sweats into one that the tourists would associate with the calling—scratchy white wool.

I was particularly interested in sharing this with you when I saw that a New York Times article about this year’s topic—the transumanza—was on the most popular articles list last week. I also saw a video about it at a London Tube station this week.

Just for the record, Anghiari got there first. I knew I’d be on the cutting edge when I moved to a tiny Tuscan village.

September 9, 2019 In Best Of, Chow By Nancy

Aglione: my garlic is bigger than yours

It’s the time of year when I start to see giant garlic in the stores and pici all’aglione (which means pici and “big garlic”) on the local menus. As you can see in the picture above it towers over lesser garlic. Aglione is a special type of garlic that is only grown between Siena, Arezzo, and Perugia in the Val di Chiana. It’s a relative of the garlic everyone is familiar with, without some of the drawbacks, and has a much milder flavor. The plant was nearly extinct but has been brought back in recent years by around twenty devoted farmers who have been growing it.

According to the Aglione Association it comes in the following sizes:

Super-Giant (bigger than 90 mm.)
Giant (80 – 90 mm.)
Extra (70 – 80 mm.)
Big (60 – 70 mm.)
Small (smaller than 60 mm.)

They also state on their beautiful website that it can cure abscesses, is used to help diseases of the circulatory system, malaria, infestations of worms and parasites, pulmonary disorders, as a disinfectant or purgative, for animal bites and for convulsions, for exhaustion, migraine, insomnia. It protects against toxins and infections, has a diuretic effect, reduces blood pressure … and more.

So eat up.

Over the past few years I’ve tried it several times and was a bit underwhelmed, but this year I have seen the light and can’t get enough. It is incredibly easy to make if you can get your hands on the goods. If not I thing you could give it a go with elephant garlic.

INGREDIENTS

400 grams pici (best if made by hand with only flour and water, or purchased fresh)

4-6 cloves aglione (You won’t believe how much garlic it feels like you are cutting up, but just trust. It should feel a bit like you have cut up an apple in size and texture.)

1 kg small, sweet fresh tomatoes or I’ve also used a jar or two of chopped tomatoes

Olive oil for cooking

Vegetable broth

Pinch of sugar

Chili pepper to taste

Parmesan cheese, for serving

METHOD

Peel the cloves and chop roughly. It doesn’t have to be nearly as small as one would chop up regular garlic. If using fresh tomatoes down the middle lengthwise. Remove the seeds and chop into cubes.

In a skillet, heat the olive oil, a bit of the broth, the cloves of garlic, and the fresh, chopped, seeded tomatoes, or the chopped tomatoes from the jar. Let the mixture simmer for 30–45 minutes, adding more broth if necessary for consistency.

At the end of cooking, you can mash the garlic and tomatoes together with a fork for a smooth sauce, or leave it a rougher texture if you prefer. Add a pinch of sugar and season with chili pepper to taste.

Cook the pici in boiling, salted water. Drain well. Pour the pici into the sauce — this dish is much less sauced than what one might be used to — the pasta should just be barely covered. Heat through over the fire before serving with Parmesan on the side.

August 30, 2019 In Best Of, Live By Nancy

Seven ways to beach like an Italian

After taking a brief break from Itch to spend time doing August-y things with visiting family and friends — which I decided is truly Italian — it’s time to get back to writing. While doing vacation activities, like hanging at the beach on Elba Island and our neighborhood pool, I’ve noticed a few ways in which Italians relax differently.

1. The more crowded the better. Why would it be any fun to go to the beach or pool when it is not packed? The reason to be there is to see and be seen, hear the latest gossip (le chiacchiera), and know you are in the right place because everyone else is too. Any civilized beach will offer chairs and umbrellas to rent in rows as closely packed together as possible — beach to beach these range widely in price and luxury level. Having a chair is really important as it provides a base of operations and a place where you can leave your things when you go to a long lunch.

As I’ve already told you in my Venice post, when we first moved to Italy and were living in Venice for six weeks we went to the Lido to go to the beach late one afternoon. After picking our way through a field of bodies to get to the water we went out swimming, facing the horizon. After less than an hour we turned back to shore very surprised to discover the beach was totally empty. It was, after all, time to leave and get ready for dinner. That was one of our first hints that Italians love to travel in packs.

A friend just told me that there is no exact translation for “privacy” in Italian because it is considered a sad, lonely, irrelevant, and undesirable thing.

2. Don’t forget lunch. We are not talking about a sandwich and soda. The Italian love of lunch — in smaller towns everything still shuts down between 1 and 3:30 — extends to the beach. Make sure to reserve first thing in the morning in one of the many seaside restaurants and plan to take at least an hour and a half. You will want to make sure to have several courses, a bottle or so of wine, dessert, and coffee afterwards. The star ingredients will be all sorts of fresh seafood, especially shellfish. My mouth is watering right now thinking about the black squid ink risotto with mussels I got a bite of. And don’t forget that you will also be having a large and leisurely dinner. (This may have something to do with #6.)

3. The flock migrates. Every year Italians often have their summer vacation with the same friends and family at the same beach, staying in the same hotel or house, and even renting the same cabana or beach chairs. On the Lido there’s a long waiting list for these little huts and chairs as they are rented year after year by the same family, and they are expensive, several thousand euros for a season. One family will rent and then split the cost between numerous relatives and friends who come to share their small plot of beach.

4. Bring toys. It’s vital to have the two paddles and ball that are batted back and forth in the small open territory between the chairs and the water’s edge making walking along the shore impossible. Rafts and floaties are also important. Unicorn rafts seemed to be especially popular this year.

5. A tan proves you were on vacation. Apparently the darker the better is still the thing.

6. Strut in a tiny bikini (no matter your body type or sex.) I love this part so much. I’ve been swimming at the local pool this summer and consistently notice that all shapes and sizes of bodies are showing it off with equal confidence and enthusiasm, often in suits that are so tiny that they are virtually naked. I’ve been so used to the vibe in the States where those who have great bodies strut, and those of us who don’t wish for an invisibility shield, but settle by trying to shrink into the background in swimsuits that cover as much as possible. This equal-opportunity freedom to strut totally changes my relationship to the pool and beach.

7. Do not confuse swimming with exercise. I am always the only person doing laps at the pool and am looked at with concern and alarm as if an intervention might be needed. This was equally true in the sea in Elba. It all came to a head that time I decided that I had to get some exercise at the local pool only to discover that it was Pool Toy Day. I am still American enough that I did my laps anyway. And counted laps on an Apple watch. Oh well.