First I headed for Villa la Petraia. I vaguely knew where to get off the bus and the guidebook made it sound like the way to the villa would be obvious from there. Luckily I had looked at Google maps before I left and could find my way because there were no signs. I got to the gate of the villa and a sign said "park closed" but then a guy stuck his head out of an upper story window of the gatehouse and waved me in. I got to the gardens and they were in a very sad state--overgrown and with weeds everywhere. Not exactly like the photos in the book. It was kind of like exploring the Secret Garden, though. I walked toward the villa, expecting it to be overtaken with pigeons and squirrels, and on the porch was a little sign that said visits to the interior were with guides only and at certain times. I hung around a little while to see if a guard might show up to let me in. Miraculously one did. I asked for a tour, and he kind of grunted and pointed to the sign and said "only at these times". I showed him my watch to prove that it was in fact 11.30 and there should be a tour right now. He grunted again. Then another guard came out of a door, and he was just finishing another tour with some French people (so I wasn't the only tourist there!) and he was much nicer and gave me a private tour of the villa, albeit in Italian. It reminded me of that time that mom and katie and I were in France and we had to take a tour in French in order to see the chateau. Except at that time, I had taken 5 years of french and couldn't understand a single word of the tour. And this time, never having taken Italian I somehow managed to get the gist of what he was saying. Unfortunately no photos allowed in there. It was quite nice, for a 'modest' villa. There was a beautiful covered courtyard, a games room, and in the queen's bedroom the finials of the bed were carved in the shape of poppy pods, to represent the opium that she needed to sleep soundly. The guidebook also said that there was a cafe here, but luckily I had the foresight to pack a lunch today. The cafe consisted of a table and chairs and a vending machine. Here's the weedy garden and the villa:
From there I wanted to go to Villa la Castello, which the guidebook said was right down the street. So, I started walking down the street. Then the street starting going uphill. And further and further uphill. And there was no sidewalk, not to mention a shoulder on the road. And this was the kind of road which is two-way, but is only one lane wide. Eventually, the road ended in a little village and the last address number was 32. I was looking for 45. Hmm. I stood there for awhile before I decided to go back downhill. After a while I finally saw somebody, a jogger, and asked "Dove? (where?)" and pointed to the picture in my guidebook. He pointed the way, which luckily was downhill as well as toward the bus stop. Apparently that area has two roads called "via la castella" and I was on the wrong one. So after a long while I finally made it to the second villa. There was no guard or ticket seller here--just an open gate. This garden was MUCH nicer, with lots of beautiful flowers. At the back of the garden was the part I really wanted to see--the grotto of the animals. 
It's pretty unusual--no sculptures of saints or roman gods! 
So far, successful. So, I decided to try for one more villa. I had to take the bus back into town and transfer to another. I took that one to the end of the line, but that's about all I knew. I hadn't looked this one up on a map, since I didn't think I'd have time today. But I figured the villa is the only historical touristy thing in the little town, there must be signs for it. If not, I'll ask at a cafe. It turns out that this little town is just a cluster of houses--no businesses. So I asked the bus driver before I got off, and he had never heard of the villa. Great. I got off the bus and the only people around were two old men sitting on a bench. So I said "dove?" and pointed at the picture in my book again. They both starting talking at once, really rapidly and waving their arms around. Very helpful. Then one did point more-or-less off to the right, where I noticed a little wooden sign, hand painted that said "Villa Demidoff", pointing through a field. So, I walked across the field, which actually did lead me to the villa.
Now this villa doesn't actually exist anymore, nor most of the original gardens. I guess the rulers in the 19th c. with neoclassical tastes had no understanding of renaissance style and tore it all down. But, they did leave one wonderful thing: Giambologna's sculpture of the Appenine. I'm not sure who or what that is, except that the sculpture is really cool.
I climbed around the backside, which I wasn't exactly supposed to do, but I figured there were no guards around to yell at me, and a German couple did it too, so it was okay
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After that I walked around the park a bit more, and when I got near the 19th c. villa I noticed the door was open and a concert seemed to be going on. That seemed really great--especially since it was starting to rain. It turned out to be a children's music recital, so I didn't stay long, despite the rain. Before I left the park I stopped at their cafe to wait out the rain. I ordered a cup of tea, and for some reason that really through them for a loop. The first server had to call another server over to help. Hot tea on a cold, wet afternoon? Crazy!
2 comments:
I have never had any trouble getting tea here. i guess you're in the wrong country.
no sculptures of saints or roman gods? Heathens! But I do like the goat. Reminds me of Picasso's at MOMA.
My guess is the language difference is that even though you had no Italian, you were in Italy after having lived in Paris for a year. Even though the languages were different, this time around you had been in an environment where you could wade through the sing song rhythms and were able to pick out phrases rather than trying to focus on single words. Or maybe by now you've just learned hand waving.
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