Marzo Pazzerello
Crazy March

“Marzo è pazzo” (March is crazy), Italians say — except in places like the town of Badolato, where, as I learned from my friend Michele Fabio’s blog on Calabrian proverbs, Marzu è pacchiu.

In English we say that March comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb. (Marzo pazzerello arriva da leone e se ne va come un agnello.) Italians also say, “Arriva marzo pazzerello; esce il sole e prendi l’ombrello!“
(Here comes crazy March; the sun comes out, and you grab your umbrella!)

Many a March day fa brutto (literally, it “makes” ugly weather). On some days piove (it rains). On others fa freddo (it’s cold). How cold? “Il freddo di marzo penetra nel corno del bue,” the saying goes. 
(The cold of March pierces the ox’s horns — or more colloquially, when it’s cold in March, you freeze your bum off.) 


The following weather previsione (forecast) from an Italian newspaper captures the craziness of March’s cattivo tempo (bad weather): “Piogge in arrivo!” (Rains are coming!) “Forte maltempo e anche neve da mercoledì a venerdì.” (Strong bad weather and also snow from Wednesday to Friday.) Western Italy should expect “un rapido peggioramento” (rapid worsening) with “una forte perturbazione atlantica ” (strong Atlantic disturbance).

Residents of northeastern Italy are warned to watch out for “acqua alta a Venezia” (high water in Venice) and a “scirocco eccezionale” (exceptional southeast wind). The coming days will bring a “profondo vortice ciclonico in una delle peggiori configurazioni per tutta l’Italia” (a severe cyclonic storm in one of the worst configurations for all Italy), creating “fortissimi venti” (the strongest possible winds).

Words and Expressions:

far la pioggia e il bel tempo — to make the rain and the good weather (to call all the shots)

piovere sul bagnato — to rain on the wet (it never rains but it pours)

piovere a catinelle — raining buckets (cats and dogs)

“Cielo a pecorelle, pioggia a catinelle” — “mackerel skies always bring rain” (A sky with small clouds that look like sheep augurs a strong rain).

“Rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera. Rosso di mattina, mal tempo s’avvicina” — Italian equivalent of “Red sky at night, sailors delight; red sky in morning, sailors take warning.”

Non Mi Sento Bene, Sto Male
I Don’t Feel Well

These are not the words any traveler wants to utter in Italy. However, if you spend enough time there, sooner or later you are likely to prendere un raffreddore (take or come down with a cold), pigliarsi un malanno (catch a minor illness), suffer mal d’auto, mal d’aria, or mal di mare (car/air/seasickness), or farsi male (do one self harm or get hurt).

Several years ago  my husband injured his neck while working out at a gym in Italy. I called a doctor-friend, who seemed more puzzled than concerned when I reported that Bob “ha un’ ingiuria.” “Ingiuria,” I learned, means insult. I should have used the term infortunarsi (which describes the unfortunate state of getting injured or having an accident).

No, I assured our friend, there was no blood (sangue) and no need for bandages (le bende). And no, Bob had not perduto conoscenza (lost consciousness), perso i sensi (lost his senses) or venuto meno (came less) — all expressions for fainting or passing out. He did not have nausea (the same in English and Italian). And he did not dare di stomaco (give of the stomach) or, more colloquially, vomitare or rimettere (vomit, puke).

“Peggiora?” “Is it getting worse?” he asked. The answer was no.

“Meno male!” (”Thank goodness”) he said. Nothing seemed rotto (broken), and he saw no need to call il 118 (Italy’s emergency equivalent of 911) or go to a Pronto Soccorso (emergency room. He suggested we go to the local farmacia (pharmacy) to get an analgesico (pain killer).

“Una compressa al giorno” (”one tablet a day”), said the farmacista. “Da prendere dopo — non prima-i pasti” (”to be taken after, not before, meals). Pretty soon Bob si sentiiva meglio (was feeling better).

We’ve returned to the local farmacista many times since for mostly minor maladies such as headache (mal di testa), stomach ache (mal di stomaco), and sore throat (mal di gola). While waiting in line, I’ve learned the words for all sorts of problems: taglio (cut), ferita (wound, usually with blood), livido (bruise), strappo muscolare (pulled muscle), and  febbre alta (high fever). I’ve also met an Italian ipocondriaco (hypochondriac) or two.

Some medical problems, such as l’asma (asthma), l’artrite (arthritis), and diarrea (diarrhea), have similar names in English and Italian. Others may make their victims just as miserable but undeniably sound better in Italian: tosse ( cough), pressione alta (hypertension); capogiro (spinning head or dizziness), stitichezza (constipation).

I  heard my favorite Italian euphemism for a bodily function from a little boy who wrinkled his nose and asked his mother: “Chi fa il profumino?” (Who is making the little perfume — that is, passing gas?) It reminded me that il riso fa buon sangue. Laughter makes good blood or, as we would say In English, good medicine.

Words and Expressions

farne una malattia — get sick over something, take it to heart’
Ho bisogno di un medico — I need a doctor
Mi fa male qui — it hurts here
malessere — indisposition
ricetta medica — prescription or “medical recipe”

La Donna

Woman

Italy celebrates la giornata della donna (Woman’s Day) on March 8, when husbands, boyfriends, and bosses present the women in their lives with bouquets of yellow mimosa. This weekend many of Italy’s museums and monuments are also offering free admission to le donne.

Although Woman’s Day is a relatively recent invention, created in 1911, la donna has always played a complex, critical role in Italian life–and language.

No one may have understood this better than Nicolò Tommaseo, a nineteenth-century essayist and iconoclast  whose passions included women and words. He demonstrated his devotion to the latter by compiling the Dizionario dei sinonimi, an encyclopedic narrative dictionary of Italian synonyms, published in 1864, and unmatched in any other language and literature.

Italian alone, he contended — and in particular the Tuscan dialect that shaped the language — captures sfumature (nuances), the same word Italian uses for the subtle brush strokes of artists like Leonardo .

In Italian, for instance, a donna can also be a:

*donna allegra or donna di facili costumi — a woman of easy virtue

*donna di casa — housewife (also called a casalinga)

*donna di mondo — worldly, sophisticated woman

*donna di servizio –housemaid, domestic help

*prima donna — leading lady

*donnina — clever or sensible girl

*donnino — womanly or mature girl who takes on adult responsibilities despite her young age

*donnetta — common or ordinary woman, also an old maid or a woman of no value

*donnaccia — bad-tempered woman, tart, prostitute

*donnone — tall, imposing or large woman

*donnicciola — simple or stupid woman.  gossip, or if used for a man, sissy or coward

A donnaiolo, however, is no lady, but a ladies’ man or womanizer.

Tommaseo further distinguished between una donna cattiva and una cattiva donna (English speakers would translate both as a bad woman).  However, the phrases do not have the same meaning in Italian. Una cattiva donna dresses badly and presents herself poorly, while una donna cattiva is spiteful and full of malice. Either could be una cattiva moglie (bad wife), who isn’t good at running a household and caring for a family, or una moglie cattiva, with a mean or wicked spirit.

Sayings and Expressions:

“Chi dice donna dice danno” — who says woman says damage (women are synonymous with harm)

“Quel che donna vuole Dio lo vuole” — what woman wants, God wants.

“Nè donna, nè tela a lume di candela” — Choose neither a woman nor linen by candlelight (to avoid  a nasty surprise the next morning)

Dianne Hales is author of La Bella Lingua: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.

Parole d’Amore (Words of Love)

For my birthday an Italian friend gave me a wonderful gift from her family library: the Nuovo Dizionario della Lingua Italiana (The New Dictionary of the Italian Language), compiled by Francesco Cardinali and printed in Naples in 1826. The first word I looked up was “amore.”

The spelling and forms of the Italian words have changed, but the meaning of amore remains essentially the same: il desiderio, che l’uomo ha della donna, e questa per quello accompagnato da virtù, da benevolenza (the desire that man has for woman and she for him, combined with virtue and benevolence).

Nothing still compares with the delight of becoming invaghito di qualcuno (infatuated with someone), the enchantment of innamoramento (falling in love), or the sheer fun of a gioco d’amore (love game). But love itself, as well as a dichiarazione d’amore (declaration of love), may be lovelier in Italian.

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry” (”Amare significa non dover mai dire mi dispiace“) is the classic American one-liner from the 1970’s movie Love Story. This can’t compare with a quintessentially Italian sentiment such as “Amore non conosce misura” (Love doesn’t know moderation).

Certainly no other language may have as many seductive ways of saying “I love you” (ti amo) to the love of your life (l’amore della tua vita). So if you’re yearning for un amore appassionato (a passionate love), try some of the following frasi romantiche (romantic phrases):

1. Sei la mia anima gemella — You are my soulmate.

2. Ti penso ogni giorno — I think of you every day

3. Senza di te la mia vita non ha senso — Without you my life makes no sense.

4. Vieni qui e baciami — Come here and kiss me.

5. Sei tutto per me. Sei il mio universo — You are everything for me. You are my universe.

6. Non posso vivere senza te — I can’t live without you.

7. Non pensavo di poter provare un sentimento così profondo prima di incontrarti — Before meeting you, I didn’t think I could experience such a profound feeling.

8. Non potrò mai smettere d’amarti — I could never stop loving you.

9. Voglio passare il resto della mia vita con te - I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

10. Siamo angeli con un’ala sola, solo restando abbracciati possiamo volare — We are angels with only one wing; only embracing each other are we able to fly (from writer-director Luciano De Crescenzo).

I hope your storia d’amore (love story) ends the same way that Italian fairy tale romances do: with the phrase “e vissero felici e contenti” (and they lived happily thereafter).

Dianne Hales is author of La Bella Lingua: My  Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.

Romeo e Giulietta
Romeo & Juliet

The legendary lovers Romeo and Juliet  may have actually lived in Verona and died there in 1303. The oldest known written version of their fate dates back to 1476, when Masuccio Salernitano (named for his home town of Salerno) recounted the story of two star-crossed lovers named Mario and Gianozza of Siena in Il Novellino. The author swore “heaven to witness, that the whole of them (his novelle or stories) are a faithful narrative of events occurring during his own times.”

A more stylistically sophisticated writer, Luigi da Porto (1485-1529), renamed the lovers Romeus (later Romeo) and Giulietta in his Historia novellamente ritrovata di due nobili amanti (Newly found History of Two Noble Lovers), published about 1530. He relocated the tale to Verona and created the characters of the garrulous nurse, Mercutio, Tybalt, Friar Laurence, and Paris.

Da Porto insisted that he had heard the story as a soldier in Friuli from one of his archers as they marched along a desolate road. Da Porto ends his account with a dramatic twist: Romeo, discovering Juliet’s seemingly lifeless body, drinks a vial of poison and wraps his arms around her-just as her sleeping potion wears off.

Juliet, realizing that it is too late to counter the poison he swallowed, beats her breast, tears her hair, throws herself upon Romeo, all but drowns him in tears, and imprints desperate kisses on his lips. “Must I live a moment after you?” she cries.

Romeo, already dead in Shakespeare’s script, begs her to live, as does Friar Laurence. Then in a made-for-the-spotlights moment, Juliet, “feeling the full weight of her irreparable loss in the death of her noble husband, resolute to die, draws in her breath and retaining it for some time, suddenly utters a loud shriek and falls dead by her lover’s side.”

The British writer Arthur Brooke translated the Italian tales into English verse in 1562; William Painter retold the story in prose in 1582. Shakespeare plucked his plot from these translations when he wrote his play in 1595-96.

In all versions, the hatred that had torn the couple’s families apart dissolves in the mingled blood of their dead children. Shakespeare’s final lines seemed the last word on the tearful tale: “For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”  But last year the city fathers of Juliet’s home town added a whole new twist.

As part of a “Sposami a Verona”  (Marry Me in Verona) campaign, the fabled balcony in the casa di Giuletta (Juliet’s home) is now available for the exchange or renewal of wedding vows. Another thoroughly modern option is the promessa d’amore (promise of love),  a symbolic ceremony for “le coppie non sposate che desiderano semplicemente dichiararsi il proprio sentimento sul balcone più famoso al mondo” (unmarried couples who simply want to declare their true feelings on the most famous balcony in the world).

What would  Shakespeare say?

Adapted from La Bella Lingua: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.

Words and Expressions

amore vietato — forbidden love
amare una donna alla follia — to love a woman to distraction (to be madly in love with a woman)
un amore appassionato — a passionate/fervent love
“Oh Romeo, Romeo? perché sei tu Romeo?” — “Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”
“Il pericolo è più nei tuoi occhi che non in venti delle loro spade: se mi guardi con dolcezza, sarò forte contro il loro odio.” — “Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords! Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity.”

Gli innamorati
The Enamored

On every February 15, the ancient Romans would celebrate a fertility festival called the Lupercalia with the sacrifice of a goat in the sacred cave dedicated to Romulus and Remus, the city’s legendary founders. Priests sliced the goat’s hide into strips and dipped them in the sacrificial blood. Boys would run through the streets, gently slapping women with the goatskin strips to enhance their fertility in the coming year.

Later in the day, all the young unmarried women in the city would place their names in a large urn. Rome’s bachelors each selected a name and became that woman’s sexual partner for the year in a sort of trial union that often led to marriage.

As it grew in power in the centuries following the birth of Christ, the Catholic Church abolished this pagan practice. In its stead it created the most romantic of saints’ days on February 14 to honor a martyred Roman priest named Valentino.Although historical accounts differ, Valentino seems to have served in Rome in the third century A.D., when the Emperor Claudius II outlawed marriage for young men because he believed that bachelors made better soldiers. Valentino, sympathetic to young lovers, defied the decree and continued to perform weddings.

Arrested and tortured, the tender-hearted priest developed a friendship with a young girl - perhaps his jailor’s daughter-who came to visit him. Some say they fell in love; others claim that he cured her blindness. Before being beheaded, the priest sent her a note that he signed, “il tuo Valentino.”

Lovers around the world have been using the same phrase ever since on the holiday Italians call la festa degli innamorati. The town of Vico del Gargano in Puglia celebrates Valentino, its patron saint, by inviting people in love to drink the juice of the local oranges, considered an elixir for love and happiness. Young couples make their way through the famous “Vicolo del bacio,” (the alleyway of the kiss), a tiny pathway only nineteen inches wide, where they exchange kisses and sweet nothings.

Throughout Italy, which has not commercialized Valentine’s Day as much as in the United States, couples celebrate with una cenetta intima (a romantic or intimate dinner), flowers, or the famous Baci Perugina, small, chocolate-covered hazelnut “kisses” wrapped with a poetic quote in four languages. Some examples:  Un cuore che ama è sempre giovane — A heart that loves is always young. L’amore è come la luna: se non cresce, cala — Love is like the moon. If it doesn’t get bigger, it wanes.

As Susan van Allen recounts in  100 Places in Italy Every Woman Should Go, the candies were invented by the wife of the famous Perugia chocolatier, who fell for a much younger worker and wrapped the chocolates sent to him for inspection in love notes.

Sweet Sayings for Your Valentine:

Mi sto innamorando di te — I’m falling in love with you
Ti amo tanto, tesoro mio — I love you so much, my darling
Sei l’amore della mia vita — You are the love of my life
Ti amo da impazzire/morire/alla follia — I love you to go crazy, to die, to madness
Sono pazzo di te - I’m crazy about you

The ancient Romans wrote some of the loveliest — and lustiest — love poetry ever. In the first extended body of verse on love, Gaius Valerius Catullus (c. 84-c.54 B.C.) — Catullo in Italian — described every phase of a love affair, from the initial quiver of excitement when cupido (Cupid) shoots an arrow into the heart to luxuriant fulfillment to disillusioned bitterness.

Catullus’s inspiration was a beautiful noble married older woman he called Lesbia (a tribute to the Greek poet Sappho’s island of love), who was later accused of poisoning her husband and sleeping with her brother (a not atypical scenario at the time).

One poem begins with a line that could have been the motto of the ancient Romans– “gaudenti,” or pleasure lovers, as a friend describes them: “Let’s live, my Lesbia, let’s live and love!” Utterly besotted, Catullus begged for “a thousand kisses, then a hundred more…give me billions and billions of the damn things!”

Lost for centuries, a manuscript of more than a hundred of Catullus’s poems was found in about 1300-stopping up the hole of a wine barrel in his hometown of Verona. They served as inspiration for the French troubadours and the Tuscan poets who created the “sweet new style” of writing that Dante popularized.

Publius Ovidius Naso (43 B.C.-18 A.D.), better known as Ovid in English and Ovidio in Italian, wrote the scandalous Ars Amatoria (The Art of Love), a primer on flirting and seduction that included advice on how to pick up women at a chariot race or gladiator bout, *Press your thigh againt the woman sitting next to you,” he suggested. “If by chance a speck of dust falls in the girl’s lap, as it may, let it be flicked away by your fingers, and if there’s nothing, flick away the nothing: let anything be a reason for you to serve her.”

The urbane work, aimed at worldly Romans, was so successful that Ovid wrote a sequel, Remedia Amoris (Remedies for Love). But the worst of fates, as Ovid saw it, befell him. He was exiled from Rome in the fallout of a scandal involving Emperor Augustus’s promiscuous daughter Giulia.

Ovid deals with greater tragedy in the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, the doomed lovers who grew up next door to each other in ancient Babylon. Through a chink in the common wall separating their houses, the youngsters, forbidden by their families from seeing each other, would whisper and, as they grew older, try to kiss.

Plotting to run away together, they arranged to meet at a mulberry tree, but when Pyramus arrived, he found only a lion’s tracks and Thisbe’s torn and bloodied cloak (his gift to her). Assuming she had been killed, Pyramus stabbed himself beneath the tree. Thisbe, however, had only dropped her cloak while fleeing a lion, and the beast had ripped the garment with paws bloody from an earlier kill.

When she found the dying Pyramus, she killed herself with his sword (her gift to him) as he opened his eyes to gaze once more upon her.The fruit of the mulberry, once white, turned red with their blood-or so the legend goes.

Latin Sayings about Love

Amor tussisque non celantur – Love, and a cough, are not concealed. (Ovid)
Amor caecus est — Love is blind
Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior –  I hate and I love. How can I do that, you might ask me perhaps? I do not know. But that’s what I feel and this is torture. (Catullus)
Omnia vincit amor – Love conquers all. (Virgil)

Innamorato Pazzo
Crazy in Love

Italian emergency rooms have been seeing an epidemic of agitated young men, sometimes babbling or crying. They are too restless to sleep and too distracted to work or study, but medical tests find nothing physically wrong. My psychiatrist husband, asked to consult on this diagnostic dilemma, suggested substance abuse or the manic stage of bipolar disorder as a possible culprit.

“Penso di no” (I don’t think so),  his Italian colleague replied. “Di solito il problema è l’amore.” (Usually the problem is love.)

Only in Italy can love’s colpo di fulmine (lightning bolt) set off spasimi (spasms) of infatuation of such Richter-scale force that they transform love-struck suitors into spasimanti, corteggiatori, innamorati, pretendenti, or, if almost fatally stricken, cascamorti. In English a heart breaks just like a dish, but a lovesick Italian soul claims a word of its own — spezzare  – when it shatters into bits. It’s no wonder that pop singer Tiziano Ferro croons of love making him so imbranato (slang for clumsy or awkward) that he’s like a silly little dumpling.

In his monumental Dizionario de’ sinonimi (Dictionary of Synonyms), published in 1830, the wordsmith Niccolò Tommaseo — described in the Cambridge History of Italian Literature as “very bright, proud, touchy, unrefined, unappealing, and oversexed” — dissected the linguistic nuances that differentiate affetto, affezione, amore, amorevolezza, benevolenza, inclinazione, passione, amicizia, amistanza, amistá, caritá, tenerezza, cordialitá, svisceratezza, ardore, and ardenza.

“L’amore,” he asserted, stands out as a more active, powerful, stirring sentiment that cannot be described with any other name and that can take on both “nobility and depravity.”

Perhaps this explains the passion in a letter written by a humble sulphur miner that was found in an archive in Palermo: “Not even with water should you wash your face because I am jealous even of it. When you want to wash your beautiful face, you had better do so with my blood.”

Almost all classic Italian music and writing seems to be about love. Why? I asked an Italian composer and Petrarchian scholar. His reply: “What else is there?” I cannot imagine a citizen of any other nation — certainly no buttoned-down Brit or ambitious American, not even a flirtatious Frenchman or seductive Spaniard — making this statement.

How is that love, or maybe just the love of love, has embedded itself so deeply in the Italian psyche that the entire nation is crazy for love? Solo chi ama conosce, says an Italian proverb. Only those who love understand.

In this month’s blogs, I go looking for understanding in Italian love stories, sayings, and songs, beginning with “Imbranato.“ Here is a rough translation of the lyrics:

It all started because of one of your whims

I didn’t trust you…it was only sex

But sex is an attitude

Like art in general

I guess I know better now and here I am

Excuse me if I try to insist

I’m getting on your nerves, I know,

But I love you.. I love you.. I love you

Here we go again, yeah, so predictable…but I love you

Forgive me but I love you even if met only two months ago or so

Forgive me but I can’t whisper it to you, ‘cause if I don’t let it out I’m gonna die

I’m not sure you know that I love you

Forgive me if I laugh,

I’m so out of it

I stare at you and tremble

just thinking of having you so close to me

and feeling I’m all yours

and here I am getting so emotional

I’m so damn clumsy!

Hi, how are you doing?

Silly question!

Love makes me predictable

I can’t speak much, so weird, I know,

I drive slowly

it must be the wind,

it must be the weather,

it must be the fire (the passion)!

Adapted from La Bella Lingua: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.

Bianco
White

Winter turns many parts of the world world white, but in Italian bianco is never out of season or style.
You can find bianchezza (whiteness), not just in snow (neve), but also in the white of the eye (Il bianco dell’occhio), the white of the egg (il bianco dell’uovo), or the universally beloved fairy tale “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves” (Biancaneve e i sette nani). If you’re frightened, you may sbianca or turn white as a sheet (bianco come un cencio). A terrible shock can even turn a person’s hair white (far diventare i capelli bianchi).
Sheets or linens are called biancheria, while biancheria intima refers to lingerie. Something off-white is biancastro or bianco sporco. which is different from whitish (bianchiccio) or white-washed (bianchetto). If you feel under the weather, the best advice is mangiare in bianco. “Eating white” means choosing bland foods such as bread, pasta, and rice and avoiding fried or difficult-to-digest dishes.
Bianco also can convey blankness or an absence of something. Un foglio in bianco is a blank sheet of paper; un assegno in bianco, a blank check. Un matrimonio bianco describes an unconsummated and presumably loveless marriage. If you toss and turn all night long, you pass una notte in bianco, a night without sleep.
If something comes out of the nowhere-out of the blue, we’d say in English-Italians describe it as di punto in bianco (a military expression for shooting without aiming properly). Ending up nowhere translates as andare in bianco (going into white). Workers who die because of unsafe conditions on the job suffer morti bianche (white deaths).
A free hand, carte blanche in French, becomes carta bianca in Italian. A red-hot controversy in English is una polemica al calor bianco (to the white heat) in Italian, sometimes caused by people who see everything as black and white (o tutto bianco o tutto nero).
If you change the subject, you switch dal bianco al nero (from white to black). If you deliberately mislead someone, you try to make them vedere bianco per nero (see white for black). If you completely misunderstand a situation, you end up prendere bianco per nero (taking white for black).
When snow turns the mountain tops white (imbianca le cime delle montagne) Italians often take una settimana bianca (a white week or winter holiday). Many like to go to the mountains (andare in montagna) to ski (sciare), snowboard (fare snowboard), or go mountain-climbing (fare alpinismo). Personally I prefer to stay snug and warm in a stazione invernale (ski resort) with un bianchino (a glass of white wine) and enjoy il panorama (the view).
Words and Expressions
una mosca bianca — a white fly, something highly unusual
sbiancante — bleaching, whitening
sbiancamento dentale — teeth whitening
“Anche le mucche nere danno il latte bianco” — a Tuscan proverb that translates literally as “black cows also produce white milk,” meaning that we are all equal, regardless of appearance.

Three of My Favorite Destinations

Tripbase.com is inviting travel writers to share their favorite travel destinations in a list that will eventually be published as an e-book. Although it’s not a secret, all of my secrets are about Italy:

1.Tuscan Archipelago

For years we have chartered boats to sail amid these rocky islands between the Ligurian  and Tyrrhenian seas, west of Tuscany. The largest island in the group is Elba. Others include Pianosa, Capraia (the most rugged) , Montecristo (mystical), Giglio (my favorite), Gorgona and Giannutri, all of which are protected as part of the Tuscan Archipelago National Park.

Three reasons to go:

*dramatic scenery on uncrowded waters (occasional whale sightings too)
*fabulous swimming in crystal-clear water in isolated coves
*quaint ports with restaurants serving the freshest seafood

2. Palazzo Magnani Feroni (hotel in Florence)

I stayed here so often when I was researching LA BELLA LINGUA: MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH ITALIAN, THE WORLD’S MOST ENCHANTING LANGUAGE that I came to think of it as “il mio palazzo.” However, this gem of a restored 16th-century family home (with just twelve exquisite suites) and its amiable staff are so welcoming that every guest probably feels the same. (Borgo San Frediano 5, Firenze)

Three reasons to stay:

*rooftop terrace with 360 degree views of Florence (above)
*wonderful, devoted, attentive staff
*across the Arno from il centro in a neighborhood of artisans’ studios, antique shops, and galleries

3. Ristorante Bracali (Massa Maritima)

In the last five years two brothers–Francesco and Luca Bracali–have transformed their family’s rustic trattoria into an elegant Michelin-starred restaurant that’s sensually, sumptuously adult. Amid décor that mixes classical lines with splashy Versace touches, we have dined on deliciously creative variations on traditional Italian themes, teamed with superb wines (my husband downloads the wine list in advance for the sheer pleasure of anticipation) and served with flair. (Via di Perolla n.2, 58020 Ghirlanda)

Three reasons to go:
*elegant, creative food
*wonderful setting
*the charming Bracali family