Tuesday, July 24, 2001: Heading South - Tuscany to Agropoli (by train)

Frank here…

We awoke to a great fresh and unusually quite morning. Selva is a very small town up in the hills of south-central Tuscany. It does not have the fervor of the coastal towns of which I have become accustomed.

The tours with Fernanda continued. She took us by Sorano and Pitigliano - two medieval towns precariously perched on outcropped rocks and cliffs. They are near one of the Estrucan burial sites, where there were many tombs carved in stone. This stone, called tufo, is relatively soft and easy to carve. In fact, the Estrucans (a peaceful people) carved out narrow walkways called vie cave, which I found fascinating and refreshingly cool to walk through.

All the touring had me late for the train that I was hoping to take, but with some creativity, and a tough decision, I decided to take the next train which was scheduled to arrive in Agropoli after dark. I would have liked to have stayed with Fernanda, Nathan and Paolo, but I still wanted to ride my bike more towards Rome before heading back to North America. Fortunately I was able to move my plane ticket back by one week, but I still had to rush a bit if I wanted to see Rome.

On the train, I had a great conversation with a young guy who just graduated as a mathematician and was applying for post grad studies. I wished him luck. He spoke Spanish and a little English as well. Then a bit later, I saw a fellow with a guitar. Upon asking, he let me play it. Then he played it. WOW! Rocco was awesome! Then inevitably, I pulled out my harmonica and we jammed on the train. It was great! Unfortunately my stop came too early. We had to say goodbye, but not before he invited me to play music with him in Napoli (Naples). Wow. I got his phone number and jumped off the train just in time. He busks and plays in bands.

In Agropoli, I was picked up at the station by Antonio and Reby, who was very affectionate with me, and Maria and her husband, Alberto, who I met for the very first time. Maria loved to talk and we could have talked all night right in the train station if someone didn't say that we had to eat. I felt like I was back home when I got to the Cuono house. Everyone (except Teresa's children who were asleep) was there. We talked until the wee hours. Maria, who speaks English very well, just kept on talking, while Alberto (who spoke very little English) patiently sat beside us at the table and took in what he could. Just after I got in I was summoned to call my parents at home. They are very keen on calling everyone in Italy now that they have this 8 cents Canadian per minute to call their mother country.

-What is more out of order, the unpredictable curves of the branch of a tree or the dead straight line of the corner of a tall building?

-Frank Pollari

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