The write-up in the Parma Daily Newspaper about the field trip that we led through the Cinque Terre.

This is hardly the first time … Levanto’s being located in a steep-hilled, gorgeous terrain lends itself to being on the Giro schedule.  As luck would have it too, the usual route for cycling in this area takes the riders right past our land above the sea.  (There’s still a large painted banner on one of the concrete retaining walls from a previous edition that reads, “Only One King: Lance.”)  We have front-row seats and don’t have to fight for them.

I’ll admit that watching cycling from the ground can be a bit underwhelming: if you’re on a downhill stretch or near the sprint for the finish, it is exciting, yes, but it lasts about 15 seconds.  But if you are going to be in the area, you should check it out, if only to be able to say that you were there.

And if you book a tour with us, we’ll even let you put up a lawn chair on our property ….

This weekend we had a group of 23 high school students from Parma here in Levanto for an outdoor field trip in the Cinque Terre.  We spend a lot of time promoting our field trips specifically because they get the kids outside and moving, which is good for everyone.  This means that you have to hope for the weather to cooperate, and this time, the gods were smiling upon us, for after 3 weeks of crappy, drizzly, stormy weather, the skies cleared for two days of hot sun.  The worst anyone can complain about is that they got sunburnt.

For us at Voyager, these trips are a ton of fun, because no matter what people say about the younger generations (which are the same things people have always said about the younger generations: lazy, uninspired, spoiled, addicted to technology, etc.), you can’t take away their infectious enthusiasm.  Even while they’re complaining about the length of a hike or the lack of nightclubs in Levanto, they’re still doing it with that freshness that helps keep the rest of us young.

It’s like our legendary boat captain Marco says: at 50, he spends more and more time with younger people because they keep him alive, give him new energy and new ideas.

And so we hope that these field trips end up being an equal exchange between generations: we drag the kids out of the city and try to pass on a little wisdom, while they drag us down from our pedestals of being serious grown-ups.

And if they got nothing else out of the experience, at the very least, leaping into the waters of the Mediterranean from the side of a traditional Ligurian fishing boat is always better than being in school.

Now, as it always has been and always will be, it is reborn.  And it’s feisty.

The official marine conditions are Beaufort wind force scale 6.  The red warning flags are up, and all the boats that had been prematurely put in the water, expecting an early summer season, are now lying askance on the thin stretch of beach that the foam cannot reach.

The Mediterranean has become the mecca that it is for its calm seas and sunny days.  But it can rebel, bursting into squalls that you must brace yourself against.  These storms were the bane of early navigators, sometimes throwing them so far off course that instead of landing in Marseilles they found themselves on the sandy edges of the Sahara.  Today they are seen more as nuisances, harbingers of a weekend without paying tourists.

But the sea is always there, and is always the same.  She does what she wants.  And we watch her, peeved perhaps at her impetuousness, but never without awe.

Check out the article.

It is only through passion that you can undertake winemaking in the Cinque Terre.  The land is unforgiving, hard, and steep, your vines subject to crumbling walls and rampaging boars, your output so small that while you can make a living out of it, you’ll never make a fortune.

Both of these vintners have winemaking in their blood, their vineyards running back generations in their families.  But that doesn’t mean that it all was handed to them on a silver platter.  Like with so many other families, over time, lands fell into disarray, sons and daughters chose to pursue careers other than farming.  And so the loving work of recuperating lost lands, lost traditions (like de Battè’s insistence on following the original Mediterranean practice of letting the juice sit on the skins) and lost ways is a big part of what they do.

And the final products?  Wonderful.  The two labels are very different, each winemaker following his own inspiration, processes, and tastes to produce high-quality wines that remain memorable.  And even more memorable is the experience of drinking them with their makers on one of our tours while visiting the Mediterranean gems of Riomaggiore and Volastra.

Though not of any relevance to those traveling in Italy, nevertheless, the way in which Italy deals with pre-existing medical conditions may still be interesting.

I remember as long ago as 1992 that my high cholesterol, caused by nothing other than the fact that my body produces a ton of it, was considered a condition that left me liable for all related medical costs in the US.  Because it was something that came before my medical insurance had been issued, it called for higher prices and more complicated paperwork.  (I admit that I am not totally up to snuff on the current insurance situation in the US, but I have reason to believe that it has not changed substantially.)

In Italy, on the other hand, having a pre-existing condition is like laying the golden egg.  Because my cholesterol is naturally high, I become automatically exempt from payment on all related treatments.  Let me explain: if a blood test for your cholesterol levels and triglycerides costs somewhere around 11 euros here, I pay nothing, because it is a pre-existing condition.  If I need to get a cardiac ultrasound, done purely for preventative measures, I pay nothing, compared to the usual 18 euros.  When I get a carotid artery color-doppler ultrasound (again, for reasons only of prevention), I pay nothing, compared to the usual 18 euros.

Now you may already be laughing about the ridiculously low cost of 18 euros for a specialist machine examination, but then consider the beauty of the fact that because I need it more than the average person, I don’t have to pay anything for it.  And even though I am certainly a legal resident of Italy, I still am not even a citizen.

And don’t think that because it’s free, it’s of cheap quality too.  I have always been seen by qualified doctors using the newest equipment, usually waiting between 4 and 8 weeks to get it done.  Occasionally it takes longer, it is true, but then after all, this is not an emergency exam, and so I can wait.  If it were urgent, it would get done within a week, 2 tops.

La dolce vita means that life is sweet for many things.  Not having to feel guilty or penalized for a pre-existing medical condition is one of the sweetest.

I have been in love with Italian health care from day 1 in Italy, and I’ve always been one of its staunchest defenders.  It works brilliantly, gives first-rate care, and costs next to nothing.  An example.

Yesterday, as my tongue kept swelling up more and more and my words were starting to become unintelligible from something I’d eaten, I called my doctor.  Personally.  On his cell phone.  He answered immediately and said, don’t wait through the night, go to the ER now.

So I went to the ER.  They took one look at me, tossed me on a gurney, strapped me to monitoring equipment, and filled me up with one anti-histamine shot, two cortisone drips, and a half-liter of glucose solution.  They kept me under watch for 2 hours, decided I was going to be fine, and let me go.

Cost: ZERO.

But more satisfying than the cost itself is the fact that economics never come into the discussion when you go to the hospital.  You don’t need to fill out paperwork, prove that you have insurance, prove that you can pay, or whip out a credit card before you can leave.

Today I’ll be seeing my family doctor for a post-ER check-up.  Cost:  ZERO.

I’m also taking my daughter to the pediatrician for a lingering cough.  Cost:  ZERO.

Now I can already hear the cynics saying, well, it’s not really at zero cost, you have to pay taxes for that.  Absolutely right.  And we pay a lot of taxes in Italy, though nothing close to what the naysayers in the US would like you to believe.  And other cynics will tell you that it’s a system that can’t go on, that global economics make it impossible for Italy to support such a system.  Well, maybe so.  But Italy has been a mid-level capitalist nation with major ups and downs since 1945, and yet through that entire period of time, they have guaranteed automatic and free primary and secondary health care to its entire population.

And guess what?  If you are one of the lucky Americans who is coming to Italy this year, visiting this incomparable country, maybe even taking a tour with us here at Voyager, you too will have access to that 100% free emergency medical care if you happen to eat something you’re allergic to, slip and twist an ankle, or get a nasty sunburn from lying out on the beach too long.

And that Peace of Mind is worth Everything.

When we moved into our current house, our landlady told us that among the wild critters running around, there were badgers in these here hills.

I wasn’t buying it.

Italy is not known for its wildlife, perhaps in large part for the fact that in the North, the quintessential wild animal, the cinghiale, is hunted down as fast as possible and dished into innumerable plates of tagliolini with cinghiale sauce.  And so the presence of badgers seemed highly unlikely.

But there’s one nagging problem: the holes.

On our acre-plus lot of stone walls and terraces, there are holes being dug all over the place, usually near some rooted plants.  At first I blamed the roving dogs that live here, there, and everywhere with no apparent masters.  But I have some experince with dogs, and they just don’t look like dog holes.

So I looked it up, and I’ll be damned if the common European badger (melis melis) doesn’t live all over Italy, and not in any danger of extinction either.  

The cat will have to keep a sharp lookout.

The process may no longer be quite so earthy, but buying your wine in volume does retain some aspects off this ancient ritual.  I was initiated into this rite by my father-in-law, who nine years ago first took me on the annual pilgrimage through the local wine cellars tasting that year’s vino and choosing which variety to bring home in the standard 54 liter demijohns that in the early Italian spring can be seen in the back of every open-bed truck in the land.

Once you get it home, and once you have established which lunar cycle you are currentlly in (NB: sparkling wine should be bottled during the waning moon), there is the long Saturday morning of bottling.  You siphon the wine out of the demijohn into your bottles with a special hose and nozzle, clamp on a crown top or pound in your natural or plastic corks, and set the bottles aside for the year’s consumption.  It’s natural, hands-on, invigorating, and cheap.

I love it.  And today I just bought one demijohn of Lambrusco, one of Prosecco, and one of local Cinque Terre white.  Alla nostra!