The Funniest Things

Settling into a brand new place is exciting, eye-opening, and overwhelming at times. I have spent the first few weeks in Lucca with my mouth hanging open most of the time at how beautiful the city is. The buildings, lamp posts, doors, the cute shutters on all the windows, I felt like I was living in a dream wonderland. Walking on the walls (La Mura) that surrounds the city I was again struck by the magnificent avenues of trees that line the walls, the ramparts, bulwarks, the buildings in the areas and streets outside the walls, and the mountains, oh the beautiful mountains that encircle the city. The air is so fresh on the wall as people walk their dogs, ride their bikes, dodge the tourists who hire the cute little four-wheeler bikes that 4-6 people can ride on as they dodge and often shriek wildly ringings their bells. It is absolutely delightful to walk the 4km round the walls or even just to walk down one of the ramps that leads to a gate. You never know what you might come across on the wall, like some random Mediaeval procession early on a Sunday morning.

Lucca has 4 main gates, Porta Sant’ Anna, Porta Santa Maria, Porta Elisa named for (Elisa Bonaparte Baciocchi, Napoleon's sister and once ruler of Lucca), Porta San Pietro but with some other little gates thrown in for good measure like San Donato, San Gervasio just to name a few. Outside the walls each gate leads to a little area outside the Centro Storico, and where we will live (once our belongings arrive) in the Borgo Giannotti which is a stones throw from Porta Santa Maria and the main shopping street Via Fillungo where you see beautifully dressed people walking their dogs, riding bicycles, eating gelato, shopping and large groups of tourists from all over the world with their tour guides holding up a flag showing them to all the hot spots.

It all somehow works in harmony, no aggression as people saunter slowly and bikes weave in and out, some withs dogs sitting in their baskets, musical instruments, groceries, even, one night someone with a blaring boom box. I have also been gobsmacked by the stunning outfits on people riding bikes, silk skirt, with ballet flats, a beautiful cashmere cardigan & pearls, linen pants, beautiful shirt and jacket and gorgeous shoes, blinged-up blue jeans, platform heels, dangling earrings and jewellery. Everyone rides bikes in Lucca from the teenagers to octogenarians sporting a beret or a lovely jacket, and no bike helmets or men in lycra in sight unless they are the hardcore cyclists setting off on some big rides in the mountains.

It is so nice living in a city where I can walk, ride or hop on a cute little bus when it is too hot, and not have to drive all the time, however eventually having “una macchina” will be important to explore the cute hilltop towns, but not for a while until I get used to cars coming from the opposite direction and understand the signs. I can just see myself going around a roundabout in the wrong direction. Mio dio!

The buses have only about 8 seats and are very small as the streets are so narrow, some have machines to validate your tickets which you need to get from a tabaccheria, and some don’t, so that is a bit strange. The really great thing is you can take your dog on the buses as long as they are wearing a muzzle. Pandy’s snout is so little that none of the muzzles at “Arcapet” fit her, so I always have an “exhibition muzzle” strapped to her leash just in case, but so far, none of the drivers have invoked the muzzle rule!

However when it comes to “mascherina” (face masks) that is another story all together. It is compulsory to wear a face mask on the.buses but it has to be a surgical one or one of the full-on N95 type styles. One day while waiting for the bus mum forgot to put her mask on before getting on, and the driver, no exaggeration, went absolutely ballistic. He was screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs, refused to drive the bus and of course the only word we could comprehend during his tirade was mascherina, mascherina. My mum promptly put on her mask but he was still yelling so I walked up to him to see what he was still going on about and it turned out he was also not happy with my thick flowery cloth mask. When I came towards him and asked him through the glass shield he put his hands up like I had the bubonic plague or something and still ranted and raved despite my pleas of “non capisco”, “mi. dispiace”, “tranquila” (I don’t understand, I’m sorry, take it easy) interspersed silently in my head with some choice Quebecois swear words at this point.

The bus finally took off, and we felt so terrible unintentionally holding up all the passengers, and were so traumatised by the experience, that we got off at the next stop not far from our house and both ran in and got out our full-on surgical mascherine. We named him the “mask nazi” like the “soup nazi” from Seinfeld, “No bus rides for you!!!” , but in the end we had a good laugh about it and wondered whether he must have been having a really bad day, because it cannot be easy traversing these little streets. Often people saunter down the middle, groups of tourists stand in the street understandably gawking at something beautiful, cameras ready, completely oblivious, or sometimes a car has just randomly parked somewhere or has got stuck, so I suppose his frustration is understandable,. Worst of all for me, Pandy has formed a new habit of deciding to suddenly, without any warning, stop dead to do a pooh in the middle of the busiest roads usually when a bus or car is coming, when generally there are very few cars at all in the Centro. Hmm I wonder what that’s all about. A little exhibitionist methinks :-)

Nevertheless every time we get on a bus now we strictly adhere to the. “correct mask” rule for fear of another dangerous encounter. Word of warning: Just because you are standing at a bus stop does not necessarily mean the bus will stop, you have to wave them down wildly and even then they sometimes just drive past, as one did one morning as I waved him down, bent down to pickup Pandy and he careened off down the road without us. Madonna!

Walking around Lucca there is always something to see or something going on like Lucca Dance where one night string students at the Boccherini institute played Boccherini pieces and young student contemporary dancers interpreted the music wearing denim and sneakers in Piazza San Frediano and the famous Piazza Anfiteatro. Unfortunately that night the weather was not the best so the musicians played in the doorway of a building and the young dancers did their interpretations under the eaves where they would not get wet. In PIazza Antifeatro a wind and brass band played some select pieces including an Ennio Morricone piece from one of my all time favourite movies Cinema Paradiso as the dancers did their modern interpretations. Pandy caught sight of a little white Westie, and was tugging on her leash while I was busy trying to capture some video footage. Unbeknownst to me she pulled right out of it and when I looked up she was doing zoomie circles round and round the dancers as people howled with laughter. After I got hold of her again, the band played a piece of music that clearly was not to Pandy’s taste at all and she started barking at them setting off all the other dogs in the Piazza and almost drowning out the poor band. Oh my goodness I cannot take her anywhere, and yet I can take her anywhere and everywhere, into the supermarket, restaurants, any retail stores, cafes, delicatessens, cheese shops, its brilliant and you see all kinds of wonderful sights including pooches in shopping trolleys in the supermarket!.

Speaking of supermarkets, spring has definitely sprung in Lucca, but hot summer has come early with soaring temperatures every day and an invasion of “zanzare” (mosquitoes, who knew) including ones with tiger stripes. I got such a shock while in my local supermarket the other day as a swarm of 50 were in there driving the poor checkout ladies mad and causing shoppers to drop their groceries as they tried to swat them away. With my no-kill philosophy for any living creature, dealing with them has become an issue at our little airbnb home, and trying to devise ways to catch them and put them outside as far away as possible with a stark word in their ear not to return and to make sure to tell their friends, has been taking up a lot of my time. Mum thinks I have completely lost my mind!

Outside the walls of the Centro, you are yanked out of your complacency while walking the streets by the cars that all drive super fast. There are zebra crossings everywhere. If you stand at the crossing waiting, you’ll be there all day as no one will stop. You have to be brave, walk out and hope the cars will stop as they come at you at 80kms an hour!

One of the loveliest things about Lucca is how friendly the people are. Anytime I go for a walk or stand at the bus stop, someone always strikes up a conversation. I’ve met Georgio from Barga a lovely old man who lives there who gave me his card and said if I ever come to Barga to call him and he will show me, mum and my friends around. I met a lovely lady on the bus who I helped when she was struggling to get on and I held her bag and helped her in to the seat next to me as the bus lurched off. They don’t wait for anyone! She chattered with. me all the way to my bus stop and I replied when I could or smiled a lot. When my stop came I did not want to trouble her to get up because she had such difficulty. We were in a seat where there was no seat in front, just a railing and an open space so I swung under the railing to the sound of applause and the ladies commenting that I must have been a “gymnastica” and they all waved at me when I got off as the bus drive off.

Of course Pandy is a big conversation starter and I’ve met all kinds of people and their dogs, Pongo, Snoopy, Lupe, Okee, Marcello, Margo, and one night a very handsome man with his two pups who struck up a long conversation with me. My lovely Irish friend Sheena back in Melbourne will be pleased that I have actually spoken to a strange man ( no, not strange weird) as she is adamant that I will meet some lovely Italian man named Alfonzo and live happily ever after!! Pandy already has her main squeeze Gino and when she knows we are going to visit him she practically drags me down the road, the little hussy!

In any case, I have spoken to more locals and tourists in the last month than I have in the last 4 years in Melbourne and I guess that is just one of the beautiful perks of living in a small city. Of course I miss my friends in Melbourne and having more in depth conversations but this will come in time I am sure as my Italian improves and deeper friendships are formed. It has only been a month after all.