You can't go hungry here

Okay, so the train station that I pulled into yesterday is in Pontassieve, however I am not in Pontassieve right now. I am in a smaller town called Donnini. Donnini is in the middle of olive groves in the mountains. Andree told me about the wild fig trees, olive trees, and chestnuts around here. When in season, locals can go around and pick whatever they want. In times of economic decline, chestnuts are used to make flower. This gives all the breads a sweeter taste and Andree says it is quite delicious. I wonder why they don't do it in times of economic prosperity as well. In the spring, summer, and fall you can find local women walking out of the forests with a basket of greens to make salads.

Over our morning toast with local fig jelly Andree said to me, "you can't go hungry here."

After breakfast, Andree and I hopped in the car, strapped Zeno in his car seat, and headed into Pontassieve. We went to the co-op supermarket and loaded up. I bought some apples and sunblock. I almost completed the check-out process without any help from Andree; I had observed the questions from the cashier "would you like a bag?" (non grazie) and I even understood the price of my things (£12), but I had forgotten to go to the ATM and needed £2 from Andree. Close, but no cigar.

We then went to a hardware store to get an adaptor for european outlets. Now I can listen to the ipod again. That will be nice.

We drove back the winding, mountainous roads to Donnini and then, while Andree fed Zeno his lunch, I fixed a salad. We had an artichoke quiche, salad, bread, fava beans, a glass of white wine, and some local cheese. Ah yes, I have given up the veganism for the trip and am able to enjoy the cheeses here. I wasn't sure that I would want to eat it, but, after a small taste test, I realized that cheese here is a good thing. A very good thing.

Andree, Zeno and I are going to go to the top of the mountain and enjoy the view. We might also go to a wind farm. I will stay the night here and tomorrow I will head to my first farm. I am WWOOFing here (willing workers on organic farms) and will be traveling from town to town working on farms. My first farm is in Liguria in a town called Levanto. I hear it is beautiful. Tomorrow I will call Sandro, the owner of the farm, and tell him when I will be arriving. This is exciting. I have little idea of what to expect and I have no idea if I will have access to the internet. We shall soon see. If I don't have access to the internet, I suppose I'll have to record my thoughts the old fashioned way. With my pen in hand, I will continue to observe my surroundings and soak up the beauty of Italy. It will be lovely, I am sure.

My journey is still beginning. I am on my way.

Baci