We were hopping by the time we rolled into Lucca. Fresh off a day of yachting, we knew the evening held equally great things and we were ready/excitable/anticipatory/impatient/wanting. This date had quite literally been circled on our calendars since the day we knew we were coming to Europe, and all other things be damned, this was the only requirement. To fully understand why, let's first understand Lucca.
Lucca pre-dates (as in, existed before) 180 B.C., when it became a Roman colony. It has a stellar history of liberty, tracing on the swells of imperialism toward its perpetual victories of autonomy. In the 16th Century, to protect itself from rival Florence, the city enclosed itself in red brick walls that remain fully intact today. Inside the high walls, renaissance architecture joined ancient structures, filling the maze of cobblestone streets with over eighty religious communes, some with churches dating to the 8th Century. Once upon a time, it served as a home for Dante in exile, and the Divine Comedy is suggested to be based on the city's feudal families.
Deep in these streets, in a medieval plaza surrounded by centuries-old facades and centerpieced with one very naked marble fountain, we, and our 80 oz. of beer, joined a thousand or so Italians for Lucca Summerfest and Arcade Fire. Oh, what an evening it was!
Neither of us had ever seen Arcade Fire, and we have both been devout followers since their earliest release. This, even in something as familiar as The Troubadour, would've been spectacular. Down in the medieval streets of a walled city amidst Europe 2011! -- it was simply perfect. And yes, they were every bit as great as expected. Highlights of the show were definitely their entrance -- Ready To Start (yes, we were), as well as No Cars Go, Keep the Car Running, Modern Man and, of course, Wake Up. The rightful closer. As we began the evening with pizza and pasta (this is Italy, afterall), we polished it off as only one could -- with the rightful closer -- gelato (The three first concert photos were taken on my phone because sadly, Mark was banned from the event).
We stayed a second night in Lucca to experience the region a bit and not rush ourselves after the promising, and proven, perfect night. The next day we stole out of the city and followed the Wine Road into the neck-breaking bends of the Tuscan countryside. There, among the olive trees and grape vines, in the heat of a Tuscan summer, we stumbled across a restaurant where locals go. We feasted on pancetta, prosciutto, fresh baked bread and fine cheeses; drank a 1 euro jug of young wine; and watched the local old gentry shout at F1 racing with a fervor usually reserved for soccer fans. We followed the road out, wound with the river Serchio, and found a nice, bubbling rapid in a forest bend where I took a dip and Ali smiled incredulously.
We woke up the next morning still on cloud nine. We had no destination, no funds enough to continue on to Switzerland, and no real idea of whether it'd be best to continue our route toward Munich or alter paths to the more affordable Croatian and Slovakian lands. It was all of little matter though, for nothing could destroy our last three days. We picked a direction with a coin flip -- North -- and so that's where we headed...
No comments:
Post a Comment