I clean up the place a bit while L. does some work on the computer. The girls suffer in silence through the heat of the afternoon, Emmy singing along to her iPod, Rosemary drawing constantly. I have some things due myself, but I seem to need my psychic space to work on art. There’s just too many dishes to wash, too many sandwiches to make, too many errands to run. We have a pleasant final swim at Lido di Verona where I photograph the girls smiling in the blue water. I cook amazing steak from our macelleria on Mameli and we eat by candlelight on the patio. L. teaches the girls (and reteaches me) how to play Euchre. A fun night.

Looks great from the outside!

Autoritratto.

Villa Valmarana.

Peace, love and pranzo.

Ci vediamo, Vicenza!

We take the girls on a tour of Vicenza. The heat wave is finally subsiding, in fact a major rain is coming up as we drive into Centro. The sky becomes dark and turbulent. At 1pm, the streets are shrouded in a false dusk. Palladio’s Basilica looks hoary with age in this blue dimness and the piazza is empty. As the rain blows in, we find shelter underneath the arcades of the Basilica. Emmy is laughing with delight; she loves the rain. We have lunch at a cafe’ where the bathroom is papered with images cropped from Manga books.

My nieces are suitably impressed by the stage sets of the Teatro Olympico, that production of Oedipus Rex they never ’struck.’ We view Russian orthodox paintings from the 18th and 19th centuries at a nearby palazzo, painted with ultimate delicacy, tempera on wood.

Again, Villa Rotunda frustrates us. This time it’s open, but after paying 5 Euro a head and circling the building, we realize we will not be allowed to actually enter. L. is pissed and I can’t blame her. She’s wanted to tour the V. Rotunda for 20 years.

Just up the garden walk is the Villa Valmarana with freschi by Tiepolo and son. A friendly docent points out for us the many examples of trompe l’oeil. We wander through the back garden, which was never open to the public the other times we visited here.

Following the big rain, a steamy heat is rising from the rich green hills around Vicenza. Time to get back in the air-conditioned car and return to Verona. We have a nice dinner out at ‘Il Redentore’ next to Teatro Romano, fill out a postcard for Gram Rosemary.

I have returned Mariella’s car, which is now making a funny sound causing me to be racked with guilt. I’m sure I did something bad to it, crunching around on that rocky road near our second castello Monday past. Ugh, I hate borrowing things from people I don’t know that well! Why did I do it? I point out the noise to Mariella and insist that we will pay for whatever might be wrong but she just shrugs me off: “It’s an old car!”

In any case, we now have a shiny, brand-new Toyota four-door from City Car and we’re off to Soave to see the castle. It’s another hot day, and the cool stone interiors of the former residence are welcoming and shady, if musty as usual. My nieces are slow to get into the spirit of the place, it seems, and I try to stoke their interest by reading from the brochure all the gross details of torture, warfare, and dungeon imprisonment. It works pretty well. The best part is when we climb up to the highest lookout tower and the breeze hits us. There below are the long-settled hills of the Veneto. We can see the square of Medieval wall surrounding Soave, like arms of the old castle. We pause in this spot for a few moments and I hear more tales from Rosemary and Emmy’s lives.

Later, we get pizza from Pizza Fast and watch “X-Men II”. I am able to boast, ancient as I am, that I collected the first issue of “X-Men” where Kitty Pryde appears.

We spend the first chunk of the day shopping for a portable AC unit of a type we’ve heard described by Rosa and Katerina. We must do something to take the edge off this heat- the fans just don’t cut it. Finally, we decide on a bottom end model from a place called Euronics up Mameli. The sales guy is a salty dog, for sure, but he seems glad enough to take our 350 euros. This AC, so costly, only kicks out 7,000 BTU’s. I mean, in the “Land of Plenty” where we suck energy for a mid-morning snack, you can buy a 20,000 BTU unit for 250 bucks!

Sadly, this particular machine does almost nothing to cool even just the kitchen, let alone a couple of rooms which we could shut off for day-time use. Now we have to return it, which really doesn’t happen in Italy we’re told. Must get Roberta to come along for moral and translation support.

Most of the day is killed by our errand. In the late afternoon, we hit Lido di Verona which the girls seem to dig. They look so cute, with all that hair tucked into their “cuffie”! We bring along a picnic lunch and I nap briefly in the grass. I still cannot bring myself to finish “Moby Dick”.

L. makes a delicious pot of lentil soup for dinner and we watch “Advent Children”, a “Final Fantasy” movie which is neat to look at but impossible for me to follow. I can’t help it, there’s something about computer-generated animation that creeps me out, disconcerts me. Still, it’s cool to check out the stuff my nieces dig, bridges the “generation gap.”

Lido di Verona.

After breakfast we drive out to Soave to see the castello, but it’s closed on Monday! We spot another on a distant hill but after hiking through an apricot orchard, we find the gate is chained off. Another access point seems too steep and perilous, so we must simply abandon the endeavor â??til later. I vow that we will see the Soave castle if it kills us.

We have lunch “al fresca” in a little garden place just outside Verona. L. and I are given the scoop regarding the current state of social politics in the world of teens. Must say, I don’t miss being that age. There’s a great deal of pressure from peers and school, a disturbingly vivid self-awareness, and you’re kind of powerless when it comes to the layout of your days. At the same moment you’re coming into your own, you feel very controlled.

After lunch, we try the Avesa pool which was recommended to us by the Dog Donne. It’s a lovely site nestled in the hills outside Verona, but the pool itself is cramped. Still, it’s so great to be wet after another scorching day. Nightfall is the best time, when finally the apartment cools off a bit. We have another pasta, a “normale” with tomatoes, for cena and watch a four-part DVD of the rather dated but very fun “Dr. Who”, Emmy’s favorite show ever, I’m assuming.

We are up feeling a bit rough from the wine and grappa. Jim and Leslie leave for the stazione and I head over to Mariella’s to pick up her Audi station wagon, which she has graciously offered to loan us for a couple of days.

We head out to the “terme” at Cola which we had thought would be awesome for the girls, but somehow the warm-water effect does not appeal. Plus, we’re barely out of the water from our first dip when a storm rolls up and it starts to drizzle. We head back to Verona where a strong, cooling rain would have been a blessing, but there has not been a drop.

For dinner, L. and I fix our famous tuna pasta and we watch the fun sci-fi movie Serenity, which Rosemary and Emmy seem to dig.

Charlie has invited us for a BBQ at his place in the hills. First we visit my favorite chiesa in Verona, San Zeno. There is a wedding taking place as we arrive and the great doors are flung wide to the sunny late morning. Outside, in the piazza, the wedding party is waiting for the bride and groom to exit. Suddenly, they appear, ducking down in a fierce shower of rice.

The main doors are closed and the chiesa returns to business as usual. We are able to view the “formelle” in stunning bronze relief. My family is suitably impressed. Also popular were the scraps of fresci and the big statue of Zeno himself, holding his staff and fishing line and sporting that famous smile.

We have pizza at Vesuvio where I saw the brilliant child artist back in 2001. The great, pot-bellied fellow who was fawning over the kid that day is still in place, slinging pies into the oven. I want to ask after the boy- is he still drawing? His pictures were really something special.

Charlie picks us up in his VW van promptly at 4. We bring swim suits to get wet under Charlie’s sprinkler. The day is hot but it’s pleasant on the deck, breezy and shaded. We drink chilled rose’ and stroll around the grounds. Emmy is saddened by Charlie’s scraggly chickens and Rosemary is in a bad mood which no amount of orange soda seems to soften. Jolly old Charlie is un-fazed by it all, hustling about with food prep. I help him chain-saw wood for the meat fire while the family chops vegetables. Charlie’s big, slobbery dogs good-naturedly torment my squeamish nieces. I’m the only one who gets all the way wet, standing on the concrete sundeck under the hose; they don’t know what they missed! Made the breeze cooler, the sun kinder, the wine sweeter.

Jean-Pierre and Ursula, two friends of Charlie’s, join us as the afternoon is waning. Jean-Pierre, a native Frenchman, is an old comrade of Charlie’s and Ursula, who is American but has lived in Verona for years, has been to the legendary Bixio parties of P.’s glory days. Both are most friendly and interesting to talk with.

The food is amazing, of course. There are several kinds of wood-grilled meat (no horse), pasta, fruit, wine, coffee with grappa (good for the digestion). After, we pull out guitars and play a bit. It’s an old-fashioned BBQ sing-along. Jim even leads us in a verse of “Irene Goodnight” I had overlooked. Emmy and Rosemary demonstrate the Japanese equivalent of “Rock, Scissors, Paper” and I am treated to a discourse, by Emmy, on the seven “Dr. Who’s”.

We hit up Charlie for a ride around 1 AM. All in all, a raucous and fun day, a slice of real life in the hills of The Veneto, courtesy of our buddy, Charlie.

Last night, we watched a funny movie with Ben Stiller called Mystery Men. It’s about a group of second-tier superheroes trying to get into the game. Absurd, kid-oriented, effects-heavy films like this tend to please me more than any other kind. At one point, the mentor figure of the group, a fellow called The Sphinx and one who tends to offer non-sensical wisdoms, addresses his five comrades to the effect, “you three will be the eagle’s eyes, we three will be the eagle’s claws… let operation Three-Eyed, Three-Legged Eagle begin!”

We visit La Carega tonight. There is a jazz show set up in the street, the Verona Big Band, and Carega is rocking. The barista forgets our antipasto order and I must negotiate with her for some sandwiches in the midst of the chaos. There are picnic style tables set up in the narrow cobblestone street, filled with Verona youth, mostly. The Big Band ricochets off the close-standing buildings. As we are leaving Carega, a nearby table bursts into song – “Dottore! Dottore!”

We have reservations for 9 at the osteria next door, a place recommended by Charlie called Molinara. Our waiter is a tattoo covered gym rat we recognize from Fitness First. We strike up a chat. As it happens, his mother runs the place. He tells us that, while Verona is a beautiful city, it’s people are “brutta”. Guess a waiter should know. For us, the Veronese are great, but of course L. and I are pollyannas.

At the dessert phase, Roberta joins us. She and Michael were watching the band but Michael has returned to the apartment. She’s such a fun lady- really livens up a gathering. She and our tattooed waiter slang away in Veronese, hashing over what desserts are available. We accompany her on her Kimba walk after dinner, are in bed past one o’clock.