Practicing at the Museo Civico

Next day: Picked up from hotel via cab and very friendly driver. We make our way to the real town of Osimo. A beautiful drive through vineyards and soft sloping hills, winding our way up to the historic hilltop town. As we approach the center, a grand wall surrounding the town obviously built by the Romans suddenly appears as we drive through the main road or the "Corsi". We see marketers selling their goods on cobblestone and brick streets. We are dropped off in front of a beautiful cultural center built in the 16th century. The cultural center called Museo Civico plays host to Osimo's first ever International Piano Festival (founded by Gianluca Luisa - our host) which we are scheduled to perform on the last day of September 18. Such a gentelman of a man, Luca (not Gianluca - yes, that was confusing on our first day because we thought they were one in the same!) warmly greets us inside and shows us to our practice space. We are impressed by the grand staircase adorned by oversized paintings of unknown men dressed from another century. We then enter a small concert hall with two pianos. Right away I notice the ornately painted ceilings and walls. I think I was expecting Mozart to make an entrance at this point. Wow! We get to practice here?!... and without disturbance or a time limit?! This is not the Europe I remember. I peer outside our second floor window looking out onto the town square where the vendors proudly display their merchandise. Beautiful, sonorous church bells can be heard nearby. A warm summer breeze finally makes its way into the stale room. At the moment that we begin to rehearse our music, we suddenly become one with the room, the bells, the history of the museo, with a hushed excitement of knowing our debut in Italy will happen in just a couple of days in this charming, Romanesque town called Osimo.

Osimo: Hotel Cristoforo Colombo

Hotel Cristofor Colombo: friendly and bilingual (!) staff; nice, comfortable, clean room with private terrace and a bustling restaurant to boot. That first night dinner was solo as Larry slept. Appetizer: I sank my teeth into the most perfect sweetness of a yellow Tuscan melon paired in perfect harmony with the delicate saltiness of fresh, paper thin prosciutto. I could eat this pair at every meal for the rest of my life!! Next was a green ravioli dish expertly prepared with pancetta in a light cream sauce. Dinner also included an assortment of fresh breads and mixed salad that was so, so fresh (did I really use the word fresh this many times in one entry?!). Wonderful wait staff who were quite patient with me when I tried to get 'regular' water. Too tired for vino. What?! Did I admit that? Tired. Bed.

Trip to Italy: Sept. 18 - 23 Part 1: Osimo Train Station

Our trip to Italy on Wednesday, September 18, 2011 took a total of 18 hours of travel: from JFK/American Airlines to Madrid, we transferred to a shuttle, schlepped our luggage up and down stairs (no ramps!) out to the tarmac of Iberia Airlines astonished to see a MUCH smaller plane. A grumbly, groaning Larry is heard in the background. By this time it is about 8am which actually translates to 2 am in our brains and bodies. For two hours in flight, we had to listen to a group of very loud, very obnoxious and possibly drunk Italian dudes who obviously were never taught to use their 'inside voices'! At around noon we made our arrival to the Bologna airport. As we walk to the baggage claim area Larry says the airport looks awfully similar to the one in McAllen, Texas. We wait and are relieved that the checked bag containing our concert clothes is making it's way over to us on the conveyer belt. Ok! We've made it across the Atlantic and now must figure out how to catch a train from Bologna to Osimo. Plenty of people graciously speak English and direct us to the bus stop by the taxi stand. Hey! This is just like New York. The crowded bus is 6 euros each and we take the last two standing spots before taking off. Larry's back is once again twisted and pulled every which way as the bus makes its way through what looks like the older part of Bologna and then through it's more modern main streets dotted with American name brand shops, trattorias, and an occasional piece of laundry set out to dry on someone's balcony. Still anxious and sleep deprived I don't quite believe I am in Italy just yet. We look at a board similar to one seen in Grand Central Station but it is much older and smaller looking. We then take a guess and go to platform 9 to Ancona, the big town near Osimo. Is it the right one? Yes. And we take off minutes later ready to catch up on more sleep. We are startled by an on upcoming train that sounds like a gun shot at you in close range - making our hearts explode every time we subside into sleep about every 20 minutes of the train trip. This coupled with the sudden panic attacks that we might miss our stop. Can't wait to recline in a real bed. As we approach Ancona, we see gorgeous sparkling Adriatic sea beaches with soft light sand sailboats. Wishing to be on one of those beaches. Transfer to another train to Osimo. Graffiti. Am I in Mexico? Or the South Bronx? Need coffee. Headache worsening. Decide on Coca-Cola. It is a very hot muggy day and close to 90 degrees. Next challenge: how to find our host the pianist (and presenter) Gianluca Luisi. We never confirmed the details on transportation from Osimo. We can't take a cab either because we don't know where to go. On top of that, I forgot to write down his phone number which is on the email. And my cell phone is practically out of juice and I am not able to get online. The one outlet I see nearby doesn't work. So we call Carmela in NJ from Larry's phone to get his number. Thankfully she picks up and gives us Gianluca's phone number. The number doesn't work. We are stuck and stuck in a foreign country. What is going to happen? Is this as far as we are going on our journey? Then fate walks into the waiting area of this tiny rather desolate station and sits down: a young woman sits and waits for her train on a bench across from us looking at a brochure with Larry's name and picture on it! With our limited spoken Italian and her limited English we learn she is Daniella and she is a piano student of Gianluca! Daniella then texts him to tell him we are waiting in the station for him. I realize as she leaves for her train that I forgot to pass on our phone number. So I jot Larry's cell number on a piece of paper and run to give to her so that Gianluca can call us - first down a flight of stairs then back up on the other side JUST IN TIME before she boards her train! A few minutes later we get a phone call from a gentleman named Luca Niccolai who says he will be there in 5 minutes and to look for a gray Road Ranger.