Tuscany and tots Posted on June 22nd
LUCCA, Italy - First, there was the dream:
A week at a villa in Tuscany. Great wines and olive oil, fresh pasta, museums, the Italian Riviera. . . .
And not just for my husband and me.
We wanted to share this vision of a vacation with our whole family: three grown daughters, a charming son-in-law, and two little grandchildren.
My late mother’s words echoed in my head: “You only live once!”
Our friends jealously nodded, “What a great idea!”
Not one of them said, “What, are you crazy?”
Some call it “multigenerational travel.” Others call it “grand tripping.” But the idea of grandparents swooping up children and grandchildren is one of the fastest-growing segments of the travel industry, according to the Travel Industry Association.
While the Web and guidebooks are full of tips on what makes for a successful three-generation trip, my husband, Larry, and I didn’t read any of that before going.
We didn’t even give a moment’s thought to rerouting to a kid-friendly spot such as Disney World. We were in love with the villa-in-Tuscany idea, no matter how arduous the logistics. And the Bryn Mawr agency that helped us book our villa, Doorways Ltd., assured us we were not pioneers.
About half of its bookings (about 3,100 people last year) are for grandparents taking their entire families, a share that’s been growing since 1994 when Kit Burns launched her villa rental business.
“When we first started, the renters were mostly couples and some families. Now it’s caught on with three-generation families,” she says.
The grandparents “can stay home one day or baby-sit while others go out. Also, it’s a different way for teenagers to experience their grandparents.”
We converged on the Villa del Barbaro a few miles outside the ancient walled city of Lucca, in northwestern Tuscany - just over the mountain from Pisa.
Larry and I had left Philadelphia five days earlier for a little vacation in Provence, France - just the two of us. We were rested and excited.
But our adult children and grandkids, ages 4 and 1, were wrecked after flying through the night from New Haven, Conn., Washington and Philadelphia to Milan, then driving four hours to Lucca in two rental cars.
We all walked around the villa, starry-eyed and bleary-eyed, as we picked out bedrooms, each more spectacular than the next. High ceilings, brocade draperies, antique tables and desks, and large spaces for dining - in the sun room, poolside on the terrace, or in the rich, wooden dining room.
And there were two kitchens. As promised, they were stocked with olive oil and red wine - as much as we could consume.
From our sunny windows and terrace, we could see the rolling hills of northern Tuscany rising behind the vineyards of the estate of our hosts, Joe and Gianna Dini.
After a simple dinner of fresh mozzarella, salad, strawberries, and crusty Luccan bread on the patio, we crashed, excited about the week ahead.
And a bit nervous.
We are a rambunctious and emotive family that loves the idea of getting together, though the reality often brings out old childhood jealousies and tensions.
It did not take long for us to realize that the idea of a family vacation “together” would require adjustments.
We finally decided to spend Sunday as many Luccans do - walking around the city on its 17th-century walls. Topped with paths and grass and trees, the wide ramparts are a raised park.
As you make the loop, you see the roofs of the ancient houses within, the checkerboard black-and-white 13th-century churches, and glimpses of gelaterias within an easy walk.
But after an hour or so, 4-year-old Jonah was antsy - or bored or tired. And, with the time difference, it might have been nap time for 1-year-old Talia.
Daughter Jordi and husband Michael left us to head back to the villa to give the kids a rest. No problem! How clever that we’d rented two cars, rather than one big van.
Larry and I and our two younger daughters, Becca and Naomi, continued our city exploration, following the heady smells of bakeries and leather shops and the sweet sounds of La Boheme - Lucca, after all, is the birthplace of Puccini.
When we got back to the villa, though, the frazzled parents reported that no one had slept. So, we all hopped into our two cars for the half-hour ride to Pisa, once Lucca’s archrival.
Talia and Jonah had fun running around the grassy campo and posing for trick photos in which, with apparent superhuman strength, they propped up the leaning tower with their hands.
Suddenly, though, they were hungry. And no restaurant would open for an hour.
The family fabric was fraying. Jordi and Michael had yet to relax. They craved a day to hang by the villa’s pool.
Our two other daughters, however, were determined to “do Tuscany.” When else would they get the chance to see Siena, nearly two hours away, or Florence, more than an hour’s drive?
So the next day, we went our separate ways. The must-see-everything group, including Larry and me, got off the autostrada at the wrong exit and stumbled into the Chianti region for wine and lunch before reaching Siena in the late afternoon.
The grandchildren spent the morning splashing in the pool, then went off with their parents to a nearby Pinocchio amusement park.
Reunited at dinner (this time we cleverly brought in homemade ravioli from the local Essalunga supermarket), everyone was content.
All eight of us did have one magnificent day together. At least, most of one day.
We set off by 8:30 a.m. for the hour’s drive to La Spezia, a seacoast town, where we caught the train to the Cinque Terre.
The six-mile hike through five cliffside villages, connected by a mountainous trail, is one of those “thousand-things-you-do-before-you-die” destinations.
Jonah was exuberant, running up the trail’s stone steps, enchanted by butterflies flitting about vineyards and, on the steepest parts, glad to ride on his PopPop’s shoulders.
After more than an hour, a breathtaking view appeared: Vernazza, with its tiny pink houses stretching to a crescent-shaped harbor.
But down in the village, it was clearly time again for a family split-up. Jonah was done walking. He just wanted to wade in the water. The others wanted to continue the hike through all the villages. Talia, sleeping in the backpack, would journey on with them.
Larry and I happily took on the job of getting Jonah back to the villa in one of the cars. Within minutes, though, he’d gotten soaked in the water, and we didn’t have a change of clothes.
We never told the parents how, dressed only in a Vernazza T-shirt, he flashed people who were riding on the train. They didn’t mind - this was Italy.
Remarkably, over the next few days, the grandchildren proved to be great travelers as they napped their way to Florence and delighted in climbing the Duomo’s tower with its fabulous views.
Larry and I had a delicious half-day without the family, when we hiked the mountain behind our villa with our host, Joe Dini.
We climbed for two hours along a boar trail, littered with the remnants of their repast, chestnut shells, before reaching a small country restaurant.
Who should be dining there? Guests from another of the Dinis’ villas, from Connecticut: two grandparents, their sons, daughter-in-law and two grandchildren.
Finding a Villa
Many companies rent villas in Italy by the week. The cost, broken down per person per night, can be far less than a fine hotel. For example, the Villa del Barbaro near Lucca, which sleeps at least 10, comes with a pool, wine and olive oil, and costs $8,444 a week in high season (April 1-Sept. 30 and Christmas), which works out to about $120 per person per night.
Kit Burns of Doorways Ltd. recommends asking a rental agent whether he or she has seen the villa recently. Also ask whether you can contact a recent guest.
Doorways Ltd.
Bryn Mawr
610-520-0806
Untours
Media
610-565-5242
Interhome
Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
1-800-882-6864
Parker Villas
Lynn, Mass.
1-800-280-2811
Vacanza Bella
San Francisco
415-554-0234
Getting there
Air France, Delta and US Airways fly to Pisa from Philadelphia International Airport, with one stop. The lowest recent round-trip fare was about $1,416. Pisa is about a 30-minute drive from Lucca. You also can fly into Florence (one hour away) or Milan (31/2 hours).
A Son-in-Law’s View
“The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till the other is ready, and it may be a long time before they get off.”
- Henry David Thoreau
Never could this be truer than traveling with family in Italy. Morning beckons, a brand new day. The Tuscan sun rises over fields of red poppies and green grapevines.
The family wakes - one by one. The little kids wake way too early - so much for sleeping in. Quick, entertain them, keep them quiet, let everyone else sleep so as to avoid the dreaded morning crabbiness.
Too late. Someone else is up, but they need coffee and alone time to rub their eyes. The hours go by. People eat in shifts.
Only bits of pastries and chocolate croissants are left for the late risers - serves them right. Those of us up for hours are champing at the bit, but the coffee is only starting to percolate through the veins of the sleepyheads.
By the time all are ready to go, we can’t agree where - the architecture of Pisa, shopping in Florence, hiking the Cinque Terre.
I’m mapping the way to the Etruscan ruins. Wife Jordi is wondering when the kids will nap. Son Jonah is yearning for his next gelato, and who knows what baby Talia is thinking?
Everyone’s crabbiness increased exponentially during moments of hunger. It should not be difficult, really, to find an acceptable restaurant in Italy. But it is amazing how hunger can make one so picky, like famished wolves scouring the countryside for the fattest deer.
Once water and wine have been poured, bread devoured, olives tasted - then calmness descends, kindness once again reigns, as the better angels of our nature return.
Survival tips
Take space. Get away. Give yourself room and time to decompress and rejuvenate, especially when irritable moods are flaring. Wake up early, go for a walk; volunteer to bring in breakfast.
Beware of entanglements. You have carried your suitcases through airports and into rental cars. Leave your other baggage - the emotional sort - at home. Avoid getting involved in altercations. Avoid taking sides.
Make a plan. Each night, come up with activities for the next day, and let smaller groups form naturally. Some will shop; others will hike; others will explore. Then, reconvene at dinner and recount the day’s adventures. (Having several rental cars helps.)
Simplify, simplify. Those are Thoreau’s words, but I’d wager that he never traveled with family. If the trip can be tempered with patience and long-standing love, sweetened with laughter, and seasoned with a yearning for adventure, all will go well.
- Michael Willers
Contact staff writer Dorothy Brown at 215-854-4231 or dbrown@phillynews.com.