Look at the snow!

As we plotted our trip to Cinque Terre, I noticed that Carrara, Italy, known for the white marble quarried there since Roman times, was right along the way. This is the same area that produced the marble Michelangelo used to carve his famous ‘David.’

I thought it would be fun to stop in Carrara and pick up a piece of marble to add to the cairn in my garden. Yes, I know about the weight limits on checked baggage. But it wouldn’t have to be large. Nothing like the wheelbarrow of granite we hauled back from New England. Mary agreed and we added Carrara to our itinerary.

The further north we drove on our way to Cinque Terre, the bigger the hills became until they crossed into the category of mountains. From time to time, we’d see a peak in the distance still covered with snow.

In the moderate Tuscany climate, – where the temperatures rarely drop into the low 30s – would there even be snow on the peaks, especially in late May? It’s fair to say we were not putting two and two together on this.

As we left the Autostrada (Italian interstate) and drove closer and closer to the mountains, we came to realize that what we thought was snow was actually the marble quarries and centuries of marble dust. At the base of one mountain, with a quarry further up the side, it was easy enough to pull over, hop out of the car and grab pieces of marble to add to my collection.

I don’t know which quarry produced ‘David,’ but it may have been the very quarry that produced the stones I picked up. Wouldn’t that be cool?

Ciao!

Cinque Terre - The sound of heaven

We’re spending two days in Cinque Terre – five villages along the Italian coast. These little towns have the charm of every Italian village we’ve seen, with the added benefit of clinging to hills and cliffs that dip down into the Mediterranean Sea.

While we came like most others for the sunshine and the beaches, we’ve found we’re drawn to the churches.

Though we didn’t set out in this direction, churches have become a theme for us this month. And we were delighted to find several open in Cinque Terre. The church elders may recognize how welcome a cool place for quiet reflection can be to tourists.

When I saw a small sign pointing the way to the Cappuccini Church, I was intrigued. Did they serve coffee? We veered off the main drag to go see. How far could it be?

The trail went up. And up. The path turned narrow and rough. It curved around bends. Always up. This church was not for the faint of heart. Instead of biking to heaven, we truly felt this might be hiking to heaven!

Finally we received a sign – well two of them actually. One was the statue of a monk with a dog. Another sign on a wall that looked a castle armament provide some history. Around another two bends – up only another hundred yards or may be two hundred – there it was. Chiesa Cappuccini. And it was open.

We walked in, closing the door tightly as the sign requested. And then we heard it. The sound of men singing. We had stumbled into an enclave of Capuchin monks. We sat and listened. We could not see them, but their voices filtered into the sanctuary, spreading peace in that space.

 Ciao!