I arrive in Lucca after a very long day of train travel. The train from Naples starts out late due to problems on the track, which makes me miss my other two connections in Florence and Pisa. Yet, I arrive in Lucca to find a graffiti-covered train awaiting, telling tourists to go home. Since I’m an Italian, it must not be not meant for me!
The taxi driver tells me that since construction is being done on Via della Zecca, he can’t bring me to the door. I am surprised at the extent of the work, but I manage to swing my bags over the wooden walkways to the right place
I’m happy to be living right around the corner from the Madonna dello Stellario, a neighborhood I know well from my stay in Lucca two years ago.
The Via dei Fossi brings water to the fountains. At one time, the neighborhood served as a center of silk production, with the water serving to power its activities.
The fountain spouting Lucca’s delicious water draws residents from all around to fill their bottles for free.
The next day I have lunch with my friend Erica, and her neighbors Allison and Nick, British ex-pats who live in the hills near Bagni di Lucca north of Lucca. Erica is an expert on Tuscan cuisine, leading tours to cheese, wine and salame producers, so we have an excellent lunch at Locando Buatino followed by artisan gelato at the Cremeria Opera.
Later that day, I visit the Cartasia Biennale, a paper exhibition held in Lucca every two years. I am impressed with the works, in particular these sculptures created from folded magazine pages.
Another powerful work catches my attention.
I pass through a room showing hanging paper shapes.
I am impressed by this piece, sitting on the terrace at the Palazzo Guinigi. It was created in paper with the lost wax technique.
Since I’ve been in Lucca, I can’t’ ignore the fact that my phone does not let me use maps or email or search or Whatsapp. Nothing is working!! I am in a twit. EVERYTHING is on the phone: train tickets, schedules, addresses. I can’t imagine how to travel without it. I spend an hour on the phone with T-mobile, but no solution. The next day, I get my haircut by my favorite hairdresser, Monica of Fashion Donna. She remembers me from two years ago. If only she lived in Marin. She encourages me to go to the Apple Store, and I hop to it after the haircut.
After hours of sweating and angst, waves of gratitude stream over me as I thank my Salvatrice, Giulia, who finds that my VPN is blocking communications and is making nothing work. Such sweet relief!!
Now I can call for a taxi tomorrow morning to the train station and show my ticket on my phone. I am still feeling the aftermath of the cortisone surge. Tomorrow I’m off to Chiavari.