I’ve packed and repacked my backpack to weigh just under 5 kilos, our lodging up to Pamplona has been reserved, and our neighbor said he’ll keep an eye on the place while we’re gone. Tell that to the feral cats! I am sure that the terrace will smell like cat piss when we get back, but if there’s anything to fret about it’s what the yard will look like after several weeks of neglect.

The packing list. With my lousy knee it was essential to travel light, but I’ve always been a pretty modest packer anyway. The following doesn’t include the fanny pack contents of phone, documents, and meds, and of course excludes the hiking outfit that I’ll be wearing on the plane.

30-liter backpack
selfie stick
tablet and keyboard
poncho
inflatable pillow
gloves
knee compression sleeves
day bag
2 spare socks
microfiber underwear (3 panties, 1 bra)
microfiber towel and washcloth
glove scrubbie and shampoo/shower soap bar
walking shorts
2 microfiber tshirts
Compeed, bandages, KT tape
toiletries: pain-relief gel, moisturizer, etc.
headlamp
Teva sandals (for a break from the Merrell boots I’ll be using)
hairbrush, Qtips, minimal makeup!
sleeping sack
rubber slippers for showering
fanny pack

New blog

To document walks/hikes I’m starting fresh with another blog called The Trail Goes Where? This post is already on there, so energy and internet willing, I’ll try to update our daily progress. Bunk beds, shared bathrooms, snoring (mea culpa), pilgrim dinners, second breakfasts, blisters, bed bugs and all, cheer us on as we attempt the French Way.

On top of Monte Tesoro

Siete matti? (Are you crazy?) Not surprisingly, that was the reaction of my brother-in-law when the MotH mentioned about both of us walking the 800 kilometer-long pilgrim trail across Spain. The Camino de Santiago first came to our knowledge years ago after watching Martin Sheen in The Way (2010). In the film he walks the Camino Francés beginning from the French side of the Pyrenees. We intend to do the same. My brother-in-law has reason, maybe we are crazy. We’re set to leave next month.

Now lest you think I’m just joking, I’ll admit there are moments I wish I was. We’ve been ‘training’ for months, since last year to be exact. We’re fortunate to have a variety of terrain to practice on: hard dirt, asphalt, cement, loose rock, gravel, snow, up the mountain, down the mountain, or along the lake. At first it was 5 kilometers, then 10, 15, 20, and recently 22. We walk 3-4 days out of the week to keep from falling out of practice. The problem I’m more worried about is my left knee (a bit of arthritis). If we can make it to the halfway point in Spain I’ll be happy with that, but not without a large supply of pain relievers tucked within my backpack.

Boot camp is pretty much in our ‘back yard’ and it’s been a delight to see the flowers in bloom: drifts and drifts of snowdrops, yellow primroses, wood anenome, crocus, to name a few. At lower elevation along the river, patches of wild garlic lend such a heady scent that it always makes me hungry!

Leo & me

I didn’t realize that bicycle and foot paths along the Adda river had some history attached to it. Apparently, Leonardo da Vinci used to frequent the area and there’s an ecomuseum dedicated to this Renaissance man. A statue of his likeness stands next to a 14th century church rising above the Adda river. I wasn’t able to find a website in english but this link is dedicated to the ecomuseum: www.ecomuseoaddadileonardo.it

A feast and I’m not kidding! On the menu: an assortment of cured meats, bagna cauda with 15 types of vegetables, meat broth with tiny pasta, boiled beef with salad greens, pears cooked in wine and of course, wine, water, coffee and bread.

The last bagna cauda we went to was in December 2022, for Bagna Cauda Day to be exact, so I wasn’t sure if I’d find anything in January. However, Google always provides, and off we went to what would become the 99th listing in 100 ways to celebrate Italy.

If there is one thing to be said about this event, it’s that they are incredibly organized. Dining was communal-style in a single room full of tables which were already set. There was someone to take us directly to our seating.

Platters of an assortment of raw vegetables (and also bowls of cooked vegetables) were placed at intervals along the length of the table.

The nice thing about elbow-to-elbow dining is chatting with those next to you. But I noticed how things got quiet when the star of the show – bagna cauda – was brought out. As soon as the tea candles were lit within the fojot, it was all arms and hands reaching for vegetables to dip into this pungent, aromatic sauce. I was told that cipollotti (scallions) were the best to eat with this dish. I need to think on that one, but I really like radicchio leaves and cauliflower.

After the bagna cauda (and seconds for the MotH), out came the bollito misto. I think it was at this point that the director of the event stopped by to see how everything was. Then he asked where I was from. GULP! I knew what was coming. Sure enough, our host was back up on the stage, declaring that a woman from Hawaii was here and she likes bagna cauda!

More offers of second helpings of bollito misto, then dessert of wine-poached pears, and then a very animated lottery where the winners took home prizes from local businesses. I had hoped to win one of the small containers of fresh mushrooms. And why not? This Hawaii signora just adores mushrooms.

Out of politeness please don’t relieve yourself on the path which is not a latrine, Thank you

It’s hard to believe that exactly 4 weeks ago, I survived gallbladder surgery. My how time flies when you’re in recuperation and full holiday mode at the same time. If I had been asked back then what future plans were in store, I’d probably huff in annoyance and given the stink eye.

During this past month I did make a big decision though – I’m ending this blog. I’d actually been thinking about it for a long time, so to mention it here before the year is over makes it…definite. This doesn’t mean the blog is going bye-bye on December 31st. Long ago I made a goal to seek out 100 Italian food festivals or cultural events (I’m now at 98) before signing off forever on Rubber Slippers In Italy. And I intend to follow through. A few more posts should carry me into 2024, but surely there has to be a couple more sagre worth checking out!

To say that blogging is dead (the majority may think and say so), is incorrect. I think it depends on why you blog. Initially I started this space to amuse myself. Then I wrote because readers found my life in Italy different and interesting. Now I write to leave something behind for my grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and so on. Maybe in their lifetime they’ll find themselves, like me, in a part of the world far from where they were raised and called home.

If there are any updates they’ll be posted here. We still have the Camino de Santiago in our sights and I would love to dedicate a blog to that. Also, we haven’t given up on finding property in the northwestern part of Italy so there’s that as well. You may have already noticed that I no longer allow comments – kind of my way of putting this blog to rest. I can still be reached at my new email (in the about page), and comments are still open on older posts.

Thank you for reading and have a Happy New Year!

Yesterday marked the 3rd week since laparoscopic surgery to remove my gallbladder; I think it’s safe to say that I’m definitely past the point of recovery. In the previous post, I left off where I was finally given the green light for the endoscopy. They were going to check my gallbladder, but they also wanted to rule out tumors in the liver and gallstone pancreatitis. I was given a light anesthesia, and the procedure took about an hour and a half.

Results were as expected or good. Liver, pancreas, both okay. I was told surgery could happen the following day; if not, most likely the day after. All I knew is that if they withheld dinner the night before, then for certain I was in a higher position in the surgery line-up.

The laparoscopic surgery happened 2 days after the endoscopy under general anesthesia. The procedure went smoothly, with zero complications. Most of that afternoon is still fuzzy in my mind, but I did retain some snippets of what happened. After scooting over from the gurney to the operating table, my arms and legs were placed spread-eagle on supports and bound with velcro. Okay, a bit alarming but I didn’t ask why. The only thing I did ask was how is it possible for a gallbladder to be removed from an incision that is barely 1.5 cm (5/8-inch) wide. The nurse replied, “Don’t worry, if necessary, we’ll just make the cut a little bigger. It’s big enough that even I can fit through it!” She actually made me laugh.

The second thing I remember is coming to my senses as the anesthesia wore off. Ugh, what a shitty feeling. After the 2 nurses dressed me from hospital gown to my clothing, I began shaking like a leaf! I may as well have been in my birthday suit in the snow. Side effect from anesthesia, they told MotH. They piled on the blankets and MotH even added his jacket and my housecoat. Fortunately the shivers didn’t last too long, but they could’ve warned me beforehand!

After the operation I was led to believe that if my recovery was good, I’d go home the following day. Not a chance. I was released 3 days later. During that period of waiting I did everything in my power to convince the doctors and staff that I was fine. In fact about 9 hours after surgery I had to use the bathroom. I did it the conventional way instead of calling for a bedpan. Each day I was asked if I had passa l’aria (passed gas) and scaricato (pooped), 2 questions that I’d routinely hear in adjacent rooms. I took my pills, ate my food, and never made a fuss. The only part I failed at convincing them was how much it hurt. Four small incisions in my abdomen, of course there was pain, but not as much as the kind of pain in giving birth! When asked about the dolore (pain) I always made light of it. But there’s no fooling those nurses. In one particular instance, a nurse was gently pressing around my incisions and asked if I had any pain. I replied just a little. Another nurse standing by then asked, “So why are you clenching your teeth?” So busted!

On the day of finally being released, the attending physician stressed the importance of a lite diet. “No fried food,” he tells me. I shook my head in agreement with a vehement no. “We’ll see you in a week to remove your stitches.” All in all, my 10-day hospital stay was an experience that left me with no ill feelings. The nurses and the rest of the staff that I saw on a day-to-day basis were 110% professional. I’m aware that public healthcare isn’t looked upon fondly across the pond, and I know it isn’t perfect, but we never have to worry if either of us becomes gravely sick or injured.

At this point I can gradually go back to a normal diet. I’m still debating whether I should bother with ‘normal’ at all. I now eat 4 small meals a day instead of 3 big ones. I can eat ‘with my eyes’ on YouTube but when it comes to actually sitting at the table, I figure I eat 75% less than what I used to. Strangely enough, I’ve come to love baked apples, the one item that I looked forward to in those hospital meals. With a dusting of cinnamon on top, I’ve had a baked apple daily since returning home. As the saying goes – an apple a day keeps the doctor away. I sure hope so.