The Newly Wed and the Nearly Dead

You know you're in a hotel that caters to old people when:

-the first treatment on the spa menu is an age-defying facial, and:

-the make-up mirror in your bathroom is about 12x magnification.  Great for people my age...if you're able to bend over to get within two inches of the mirror.  Otherwise it's all a blur.

It is stunning.  Most of the guests are old, with a few dazed honeymooners thrown in.

And Il Pelicano has a great back story.  Michael Graham, a Brit, was the only survivor of a plane crash in the African bush.  He jumped out of the plane and trusted the trees and bushes to break his fall.  Those who did not jump died.  I think there's a life lesson here.  Patsy Daszel, an American socialite, read the story in the papers, and wanted to meet him someday.  

Some years later, he went to a party in LA, under duress (I suppose after surviving a plane crash what you really want is a good nap.  Or a stiff drink.) She was there and was being courted by Clark Gable.  It was love at first sight.  Between Patsy and Michael, not Clark and Michael.  Good to clear that up.

So when Patsy and Michael were looking for a place to settle down, a friend - a prince, of course - showed them this wild piece of coast, down a twisting road from the fishing village of Porto Ercole (which of course has now become a retreat for wealthy Romans).  A retreat, a place for friends to relax and recharge - and perhaps recover from an indiscretion? or an unpleasant divorce?  

It is still a retreat - one of the Aga Khan's wives - ex, I think - is here.  Grumpy and beautiful.  And old.  I'm guessing the first ex based on her age, but I could be wrong.

It is now the lap of luxury.  Within two seconds of checking in we have booked extra nights.  A swim in the sea,

and thank goodness we did, because the next day the sea was closed.  Too rough.  

Wally dives off the bottom rungs of the sea ladder and nearly becomes the human Costa Concordia.  The scratches down his tummy bear witness.

As we are sipping Prosecco on our terrace a super moon comes up across the sea.  Magic.

Sunset - 

and dinner at their Michelin starred restaurant...   

Every request, no matter how trivial or ridiculous, is met with "Yes, of course!"  And yet Mrs Ex Aga Khan is still grumpy.  I wonder what her life must be like if she can't be happy here. 

The next morning the sea is too rough for swimming.  We drive into Porto Ercole for lunch and a walk down memory lane.  We rented an apartment here years ago.  No posh hotels, a small fishing harbor.  The charm remains.

A jellyfish - a medusa in local parlance - pulses in the shallows of the harbor.

On the waterfront we eat Fritto Misto...

 ...and spaghetti vongole with the locals and the rich Romans.  It's easy to tell them apart,

Some time in the night we have an unwanted visitor.  A mosquito the size of  Fiat.  

 Happy Anniversary, my darling.  In paradise.

 

During the night there is a spectacular thunderstorm.  Seems to be a theme for our anniversary - when we were in Positano at La Sireneuse for an anniversary, there was a thunderstorm that knocked out the power.  Must have been a common thing, the generator kicked in within seconds.  Here the power stays on, and we stay up and watch the lightning fork down to the sea. 

Next morning when it's time to leave we have breakfast on the terrace overlooking the pool under gray and threatening skies.  By the time we're driving away the rain is streaming down and all the dining is indoors.  Lucked out again.

If you have a chance, go.  Il Pelicano is a magical place.

My life in 36 feet, my life in Provence

I have been reading about life in warm sun soaked stone houses. In Provence, in Umbria, in Tuscany. Charming Carol Drinkwater.  The fabulous Ferenc Mate. (get his Tuscany book!! It is hysterical.)
 Francis Mayes and Peter Mayle again. 

We are going to Ostau de Baumaniere near Les Baux, and Crillon le Brave near, well near nothing really...

...but not far from Avignon. And Mt Ventoux. (Not that I'm riding up Ventoux with a broken foot. Not me.)

And I was feeling envious - of the level and neatly trimmed gardens, of the inviting pools lying lazily in the sun. Of the dramatic terraces. Of the golden stone and blue shutters. Of the vineyards.

Then I looked at the pictures in Carol Drinkwater's book, The Olive Farm. There are weeds gone to seed in the olive grove. I have weeds gone to seed in the vineyard and under the big oaks. Her pool is crowded on a terrace, the seating up some stairs and off to the side. Mine too. 

I covet the pool at Ostau de Baumaniere, level with the building...

...until I look at the dramatic terraces at Crillon le Brave

And the fabulous pool. 

And then I realize I have a pool on a terrace...

...a warm golden house with blue shutters...

...and a huge mountain just outside the back door. And since swimming is about the only thing I can do (other than eat and sleep and I've gotten really good at those) I have been spending a lot of time in the pool. Back and forth, 36 feet at a time. And I realized: I love it.  I don't want to live in Provence, or in Tuscany, I love it here.

How lucky am I?

Breakfast in Tuscany

Sigh. I am dreaming of being in Tuscany.

We rented a house a few years ago, near Sarteano. The view from the top story was just like this. And being south of Sienna, few tourists ventured there. Most stay on the well-traveled route between Florence and Sienna. But we had been to Locanda dell Amorosa ...

...on our fabulous Butterfield and Robinson biking trip in Tuscany, and had been captivated by the quiet, the small lanes, the sleepy towns full of Tuscans not tourists. Finding those quiet lanes and towns is a B&R specialty. Finding a house to rent and friends to share it was a stroke of luck.

There is a hotel, Sette Querce nearby, Restaurante Daniela (too small and simple to have a website, but oh that food!) is just a few steps up the hill from the hotel, and a world-class restaurant, Mondo X  in a former 12th century monastery is within driving distance. Take your GPS and go! Mondo X is worth any amount of trouble. Charming, quirky, whimsical, delightful - check out the sinks in the women's room (can't you just see the nuns washing up there?) and the passageway to the dining room.  And the meal was unexpected, unusual, delightful delicious...I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.

I am going off to fix breakfast and eat in my garden. But I am dreaming of breakfast in Tuscany.