Week 3 – Still Learning a New Rhythm

by Daren & Esterina Anderson

Ciao, buongiorno. It’s Saturday again, and today we are writing from a beautiful balcony in Santa Margherita Ligure, Liguria. I can’t believe a week has passed since I last sat down to write.

Last Saturday we attended one of the local Market Days. Market Day is really a thing in Italy. While we had some experience in the US with local farmers markets, usually during the summer months, these have little in common with an Italian town’s market day. Each town in our region has a different market day, and some of them have themes. There are markets that emphasize home goods and clothes. There is one that emphasizes antiques. Others are more food-focused. In general, they start in the morning and last until 1 pm. Streets are blocked off and market vendors park their trucks and lay out their goods on tables, clothing racks, and display cases. Some are larger than others, but so far the markets we’ve been to are lively and fun. It’s early spring now, so the fresh produce is somewhat limited, but what is available is incredibly fresh. Artichokes are in season as are strawberries from the south of Italy. Heads of lettuce are gorgeous and so tasty. We’ve started building markets into our weekly schedule, testing out different ones nearby to decide on which one we like best.

Last Saturday we visited the largest market in our area, San Giovani Valdarno. There was pretty much everything you could imagine—from food to shoes to housewares. We bought a good amount of produce from a vendor for very little money. After we paid, Daren noticed the famed Tropean onions, so we asked for a few of those too. These onions are a specific type of red onion from Tropea in Calabria reputed to be the sweetest and tastiest in Italy. But gasp—the onions cost as much as our large bag of produce! We’re heading to Tropea in a few weeks to meet up with my brother and his girlfriend Mary, so maybe they’ll be less expensive there. Daren whipped together a beautiful meal for us that evening using the onions, some garlic, olives, capers and a delicious swordfish steak.

After shopping in the market we stopped in the square for coffee and a bite to eat. A lot of these little “bars” are really coffee and drink shops with a few sandwich and pastry options. There was a whole section of non alcoholic cocktail options, so we enjoyed a coffee and a NA Negroni. It was quite good!

Sunday we “wasted” (definitely not the right word) most of the day mapping out how we want to spend the year traveling. It took way longer than we could have imagined, but we now have at least a loose outline of what we’d like to do and when. The only trip we actually booked is the one we’re on now.

After some exercise, we spent the rest of the day on our patio reading and enjoying the sun.

Monday through Wednesday we settled in to do some work. See Daren’s post for more on our new version of work. Some of it was actual paid work, and the rest was creative—writing, updating WordPress, sorting photos, and communicating with people back home about business and house things. We can’t even tell you where the time went—it flew by—but it felt good to settle into a bit of a routine.

We cooked dinner each night, and made NA drinks. On Tuesday, we had a St. Patrick’s Day mocktail. It’s not a holiday celebrated here—there wasn’t a single reference to it anywhere. However, we’ve learned that St. Joseph’s Day (March 19th) is widely celebrated in Italy. Growing up with my Italian father (Esterina), we celebrated with zeppole. We also read that it’s considered Father’s Day in Italy, which makes sense since Joseph was Jesus’ father. But again, there wasn’t any mention of it in stores or around town.

Meanwhile, Pasqua (Easter) is everywhere—bakeries, grocery stores, signage, ads. It’s very clearly “advertised,” if that’s the right word. But St. Joseph’s Day seemed to come and go without much notice, aside from a meme that Uncle Joe sent in our family text thread.

Thursday, we got up at a leisurely pace, packed up the dog, the car, and some lunch and snacks, and headed to Liguria. We’re here for just three nights—and somehow it feels like both enough and not enough.

First, WOW. This part of the country is colorful and vibrant. Our landlord had told us about the cuisine here, and it’s exactly as she described. We’ll share more thoughts on the food separately, but for now let’s just say—it has been excellent. Seafood, pasta, and pesto. We learned from Stanley Tucci’s “Searching for Italy” food series that this region of Italy, also known as the Italian Riviera, is the home of pesto. And we’ve had pesto in some form in every meal we’ve had out since arriving.

Liguria stretches along the coast from the French border down to Tuscany and is home to some of the MOST scenic towns in all of Italy. If you’ve seen photos of vibrantly colorful buildings perched on steep cliffs descending down to the Mediterranean, there is a good chance it was from Liguria. The famed region of Cinque Terre is among the most beautiful.

Another thing that feels oddly different is the temperature. It’s technically the same as back home in Figline (Tuscany), but it feels so much warmer here. We’re dressed for late winter/early spring, just like everyone else, but it’s completely comfortable sitting outside to write or eat. At home, at this same temperature, we’d definitely be freezing.

Thursday night we walked around, tried the signature dish from the region: pesto with potatoes, pasta, and string beans (so, so good), and had a long, romantic dinner on a charming little shopping street in town.

Yesterday morning we woke up gently (with Koji licking himself) and went for a walk with him along the seaside promenade as the sun rose over the hills in the distance. We watched the town come to life as the morning unfolded: vendors opening their gates, men sweeping the streets, morning commuters on motorbikes heading to work.

We came back to our albergo (hotel in Italiano) and had breakfast, then put on our walking shoes and made the journey from Santa Margherita to Portofino. There is only one road into and out of Portofino. It is incredibly narrow and winding, and we’d heard that there is almost no place to park in the town. The universal recommendation was to walk the 5km (about 2.7 miles). There are two ways to walk to Portofino, along the road, or hiking through the hills on well marked trails—we chose the non-hiking route. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect.

The walk—and Portofino itself—was nothing short of breathtaking. We’ll let the photos do the talking. But we agree that this town is one of the most stunningly beautiful places we’ve ever visited. We spent much of the day with our mouths figuratively open, marveling at the view as it seemed to keep getting better and better.

Tired after the walk back and a day spent in a near-constant state of awe, we kept the evening simple with Friday night pizza, bringing Koji along to a small restaurant down the street. He sat right under our table and appreciatively gobbled down the pizza crusts we shared with him.

Side note: Koji is welcome everywhere. And we mean everywhere. We knew this from reading about dogs in Italy, but it’s still surprising to experience. He comes into shops with us, even grocery stores, sits at our feet during breakfast and dinner—even indoors. Dogs are truly and completely welcome almost everywhere. And he’s been such a good boy about it all (mostly)…

Oggi (today) And now here we are—this glorious Saturday morning. Still “on vacation” in the midst of our year-long sabbatical. We’re not used to this kind of freedom yet. There’s no rush. If we want to stay an extra day, we can. If we want to come back next weekend, we can. We don’t have to cram in every church, fresco and museum to make the most of it.

In fact, we almost did. We were this close to hopping on a train to squeeze in one of the Cinque Terre towns. But why rush it? Why pick just one and try to fit it all in? We can come back to see them all at a leisurely pace —and we will!

That’s the bigger shift happening for us right now. We’re not entirely sure yet how we’ll spend our time or how this new rhythm will feel. It’s unfamiliar, this slower cadence, this openness. But we’re very happy to be learning it, to let our mindset shift along with it.

For now, we’re just here—on this balcony, in this moment—letting it all unfold.

On the Perfectly Curated Scene

This morning I sit in a beam on sun with a light breeze and the sound of water lazily lapping against the boat. Blue water and gentle waves surround me everywhere rocking the boat to & fro. The slightest poofs of wind pop against the dark navy blue Bimini every so often, adding a different sound to the nautical melody that plays upon my ears.

Finally, I am relaxed for a few minutes and enjoying a cup of freshly pressed coffee while it’s still warm enough to enjoy. But also not so warm that it is creating more heat than I want so early in the morning.

It’s not too cold or too hot today, but the constant rocking in Vineyard Haven harbor woke me up at 6am. It is actually dry this morning so I didn’t mind coming up top into the cockpit with some blankets to temper my body just right. It’s already 7am which means I have an hour before we dash off to the next place in which I will sleep about 90% of the trip- and my life away. 

It’s already 7am which means I should start to hurry. Start putting away things that will move during the passage, and take a truly nasty, rocking and slamming dinghy ride to the some of the sketchiest streets Martha’s Vineyard has to offer -just to walk the dog. What at home takes less than a minute to get the dog outside for a walk or even faster when we open the back door, turns into a 3x a day at least 10 minutes each way (60 min in total) event involving a dinghy that I still can’t figure out how to use and walking past dozens of warning signs about not allowing a dog to go in the made up looking “pristine” spots amongst ship garages, the smell of diesel on a hot summer day and tools strewn about. Dog pee on that small grass bed would of course ruin the whole made up scene. So it is at least another 10 minutes per trip- or longer since I actually like moving my body more than a few steps at a time. This makes walking the dog eat at the bare minimum 2 hours a day.

When I crash (and I mean crash) into bed every night I wonder what the heck I did all day. I brought pastels to do art with. Yarn to knit with, a yoga mat, and books to read. But somehow day after day passes and I wonder ever so briefly after I read just a few pages before being taken into a deep coma of sleep how it is that another day passed and I’m happy if I just walked on land for more than a few minutes.

Yes I am happy. It really is nice to appreciate small things like stretching your limbs by taking full steps on solid land. Or the feeling of a cool breeze (or any breeze really) when you are hot.

Or the art of doing nothing.

No- I lied there.

There is no doing nothing. Just living is all we do. Preparing something to eat, washing the dishes from it, cleaning up, changing my clothes. Even washing my face and brushing my teeth seems like a lot of work. And a lot of time. So much time that these things kind of take the whole day.

Some people refuse to boat with dogs- too much hair, too much pressure to get them on a walk. And they are absolutely right that it’s does consume your time. But l love my dog that much. His excitement makes bringing him so much more worth it. But he is a time suck.

Yesterday is what Daren called maintenance day. We got fuel and water. We did laundry and grocery shopped. It was Saturday. Seems like a good day to do those things. But other than sailing from Cuttyhunk to Martha’s Vineyard (which for someone who doesn’t know how or like to sail is sort of like throwing hours of your life into the sea) and having dinner with our friends [and dog walking which I slept thru the 1st iteration of], we did nothing else. What would take maybe an hour or two for chores at home consisted of at least 6 or so hours of what shouldn’t be (especially on a “vacation”) labor intensive work. The level of exertion in doing the smallest of things combined with the lack of exercise leaves my body feeling like a total pile of complete mush. 

No lounging, no reading, no art, no exercise, no catching up on shows, no knitting- just keeping ourselves and the dog alive and fed.

We have and will see some absolutely stunning places. I’ve been vlogging the trip. These do not take a lot of work. I take short clips all day and in my years of work experience with technology and multi tasking I can whip these together throughout the day rather efficiently.

Look at this perfect photo! These are not hard to capture- they are everywhere. I picked those flowers from wild areas by the fire tower while on a run in Cuttyhunk. Cool huh?

But the vlogs and photos only show the beautiful stuff. I crop or if I can, never capture the many unsightly things right out of crafted, curated scene. You don’t see the dumpsters everywhere. Us taking out our stinky trash or figuring how to get pumped out. Recycling is an issue that we are temporarily choosing to ignore. The surroundings of boating areas are often filled with broken lines and lobster traps, utterly despicable bathrooms, sparse maritime stores that look like a sad mini version of Home Depot and slimy barnacles growing on everything you might need to touch during the day.

I like this, but I also dislike it. I miss being able to freely use water or taking a real shower. I miss not worrying about how and when to charge my devices. This is all very nice, even without modern conveniences, but not for a “vacation”. I don’t want to work so hard during my time off.

If we were retired and this was our life I would be all in for a month or two a year.

Being on a slip vs a mooring or anchor is better in that at the very least I could go for a run without being charioted to land on a dinghy. I ran a total of one time. I had 45 min before I had to meet Daren and ran with the flowers that are in that great picture most of the way. At a slip on the dock we can use water and electricity without conservation. But it’s still cramped and hard to cook and shower, it’s still a hike to pass the “no dogs” signs, the marinas and boat yards are often still very sparse, smelly and ugly places. Not to mention the heart stopping average rate of $8-10/ft per night during the summer.

I do love seeing places by boat. I truly do. I love Koji’s excitement when we get in the dinghy and he has no idea where we are going but he is excitedly up for anything because he is with his owners. I love being with my dog and husband and when we get to – friends, doing a little of nothing but existing. 

However, it’s not just the curated shots and video clips it looks to be.

I have worries too aside from this pretty great trip. I feel guilt sharing them because my problems seem small in a world where stable food/shelter/clothing is not a given. But I refuse to be another number out there using social media to only highlight the good stuff in my life too, adding to the fluff of it all.

I don’t want to feel guilty for telling the world it’s not all perfect here either. I am real and I do not have a great day everyday. More than that, I don’t want to be a part of the social media problem. I don’t mind sharing the not so great parts of my life because I’m a real person with real feelings and most of my life is not the perfect pictures posted.

This is the first time in 9 days I’ve had 45 min to just sit and think and write. It was quite lovely. The scene was perfect. But my coffee is now cold and it’s time to get up and do all those ugly things. Time to charge my phone again which mysteriously uses battery power 4x faster about 10 feet from the shore.

Maybe I’ll have time like this again before I go back to work in 8 days. Or maybe I won’t. What I do know is that while I do enjoy this and I am having a lot of fun- this really is truly for me personally a far cry for a vacation.

It’s a beautiful perfectly curated scene in which you can choose to ignore the ugly, focus only on the ugly, or find a medium in between. I’m toeing the in between line, but I haven’t been swayed to ignore it.