LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 42 ately taken by the kind but stern correction of our host, Francesco, who informed us "buona notte" is reserved for the end of the night, while "buona sera" is the ap- propriate greeting in the evening. He wasn't going to let us butcher his native tongue, but he also wasn't go- ing to make us feel too bad about trying. Throughout the course of our dinner, he would stop to pour us more wine, congratulate us on our recent marriage, introduce us to anyone he could flag down for more than five seconds, and pour us more wine. As he said on a late-night refill of our wine glasses, "If you're thinking, you're not finished." It's a family affair at Spirito Di Vino. Francesco is host and server with his wife. His mother, Eliana Catalini, is the chef. She left a 37 year career in virology alongside Nobel Prize winner Rita Levi Montalcini to master the traditional recipes of Italian cuisine. If you ask me, we're lucky she did. Moving onward to Vicenza by train, we mostly want- ed to visit to reimagine the fledgling love of Rhiannon's parents. After all, without them, we wouldn't be where we are today. At first glance, Vicenza appeared to be a sleepy town with quiet parks and a few cocktail bars. We visited the Teatro Olimpico, built specifically for the play Oedipus. The stage was crafted to create the illusion of depth, with city streets appearing to stretch away into the distance. It's the same stage Rhiannon's mom walked when she graduated high school as her not-quite-yet boyfriend – Rhiannon's dad, who is also a photographer – sat in the audience while taking photos. We had the delight of my sitting in his same exact seat (we were given clear directions) while taking a photo of Rhian- non standing in the front row of the balcony, the clos- est she was allowed to the historically preserved stage. We spent the afternoon wandering the quiet streets and the Piazza dei Signori, tracing the footsteps of Rhi- annon's parents and falling more in love with each step. Overnight, the city transformed into a vibrant market- place with colorful fabric stalls everywhere. With new insight into Rhiannon's family history, we set our sights on Finale Ligure. We disembarked the local train to rainswept streets with the smell of salt in the air. We walked beneath dusky skies to Hotel Florenz, a converted monastery with heavy brass keys to the rooms, a parquet floor, and huge windows. Like many hotels in the area, it was specifically branded as a mountain bike hotel with a locked bike storage room and bike wash station. The constant stream of riders in and out of the hotel told us we were very much in the right place. The Finalborgo neighborhood, once a standalone city protected by medieval walls, is now the heart of tour- ism in the town. We wandered the narrow, cobblestone streets, looking up at the lush hillsides pocked with limestone cliffs. Mountainbikers in full body armor cov- ered in mud wove through the streets and we began to wonder what awaited us on the trails. We assured our- selves that only the most extreme riders would be out Top: Rhiannon visits the Teatro Olimpico, as seen from the same po- sition her father photographed her mother in their early courtship. Center: The streets of Vicenza explode with color during the market. Bottom: Another cappuccino? Why not?

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