“I wrote this travelogue as a piece of good news as we all await with trepidation bad news here and in the rest of the world”
It was a brief but pleasant respite from the political noise that currently bedevils the homeland.
A few of us friends went to bask in the warm Tuscan sun as the Italian spring folded into an early summer to attend the wedding of a dear friend’s son.
Our party of six left Manila, transited through the United Arab Emirates and into Milan’s Malpensa airport, from where we were met by Randy, a Filipino from Caloocan now a resident of Italy for the last 23 years, who drove for us into the Borgo San Luis, some 15 minutes away from historic Siena.
There we met up with another two friends who came from Rome, and the family and closest friends of the groom and his lovely wife. A welcome dinner at the flower-roofed terazzo awaited, serenaded by an Italian band who switched from O Sole Mio to La Vie en Rose to Bella Ciao and later in the evening, to new European songs with a more bouncy beat.
The next day, we drove through narrow winding roads deep into the forested Val d’Elsa and emerged some 30 minutes later into a 14th century castle atop a hill overlooking the beautiful Tuscan countryside.
At five in the afternoon, the wedding entourage emerged from the castle and into the tastefully decorated terraced garden where the ceremony was held, marching to the tune of Pachelbel’s Canon in D.
The wedding ceremony over, cocktails over iced Aperol and Limoncello spritzes were served with waiters bringing hors d’oeuvres of sliced prosciuttos to mouth-watering pistachio and ricotta-filled cream puffs as winds cooled the summer heat and the sun began to set.
Dinner was held at the back lawn of the castle overlooking expansive cypress-dotted gardens. A long, long table for the guests faced the newlyweds while a string quartet of three violins and a cello (my favorite musical instrument) rendered both classics and popular ditties.
Solaia Toscana, Napa’s Opus One and Masetto red overflowed as we were treated to a fine six-course dinner highlighted by bistecca Fiorentina deep into the night.
Us senior citizens drove back to Borgo San Luigi towards midnight while the young couple and their friends danced into the wee hours inside the castle’s huge courtyard.
The following days were spent by our group lazing in Siena, San Gimignano, Volterra and Firenze, where my fellow seniors marveled at my (thank God!) stamina, walking through steep cobbled paths in 38 to 40 degree temperatures.
In 1978 on my first European trip, I could easily climb the winding staircase of Koln’s Dom and touch the gargoyles in its steeples, and three years back, my much younger daughter could hardly keep pace as we traipsed through Sevilla’s medieval town center.
Praise the good Lord for his continuing care in my super senior years.
Five days later we drove to Milano and lunched over the famous Italian pizza chain called Alice with its crisp dough generously topped by mushrooms, cheese and olives along the way.
It was in Firenze where rice-hungry stomachs groaned for Asian, and we ate at Hoseki, a surprisingly authentic Japanese restaurant manned by friendly Filipino staff and, later in Milano, where our ubiquitous Randy brought us to two Filipino restaurants, holes in the wall which served good bulalo, sinigang, an excellent pinakbet, kare-kare and daing na bangus.
I highly recommend Kanin@Eat, a small eatery owned by a Batanguena who took culinary courses which showed not only in the taste but likewise in the nice plating of her Filipino specialties.
Conversation among us always drifted to developments at home, from the day when the impeachment court remanded the articles to the HoR and our various interpretations of the unusual Senate masterstroke, to recalling while in Bellagio astride Lago di Como how the pandemic postponed now DoTr secretary Vince and Essie Dizon’s intimate wedding scheduled in 2020 in the Tuscan countryside, later into their abode in Clark in another beautiful and memorable event.
Later we were at tenterhooks when Israel attacked Iran, wondering whether the war would cause the cancellation of our return flights via the Middle East.
Happily, the airlines re-drew their flight paths, instead passing through Egyptian airspace into the Arabian Sea thence the Indian Ocean and into home, sweet home.
Eleven days later, we were back into the land of senseless political mayhem and worrisome economic developments, with petrol increasing by P5 a liter amid deadly war drums in perennially troubled western Asia.
I wrote this travelogue as a piece of good news as we all await with trepidation bad news here and in the rest of the world.