Val D’Orcia & Farm Cats
Breathing in the Tuscan night air as I journal and scan the sky for stars, a cat that may be cast in the live action Garfield springs into my lap. I grew up in a family of cat allergy-ridden dog people so I’ve never been completely comfortable with felines. Who knows if it would suddenly scratch my face or do a backflip! Can’t trust them. But Gigi is no ordinary cat. Although his razor claws puncture my North Face jacket while turning my lap into the ideal nest, this little animal made me question my indifference towards the species and gave me a much needed cackle. Following Rome and preceding the farm, I spent the weekend in Florence with a deepening mental strain. I loved the city but struggled with the exhaustion of solo travel and loneliness in the buzzing social city. But my venture to a magical Tuscan hill in Val D’Orcia came at the perfect time and refreshed me more than I could’ve ever imagined.
Upon my arrival at the farm, after twelve minutes driving down a bumpy dirt road past vineyards and rolling fields, I felt all the exhaustion and tension from travel roll off my back. Led by my sweet and welcoming host, we walked up to the quaint home covered in stone perched on top of the fifteen acre oasis. Stepping into my room with the warm terracotta floors and wood paneled ceiling, I immediately felt at home. Even as my head sunk into the pillow on my soft queen bed, I saw rolling green hills, lines of Cypress trees, rows of grapevines, groves of olive trees, and castles on the distant hilltops. Every moment I looked up at that view, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Fifteen feet from my dark wooden French doors sat a gorgeous terrace with patio tables, a pergola, and swinging lounge chairs. I even had access to the most beautiful hiking trail two minutes down the road, leading to a gorgeous river, open fields as far as the eye can see, and a historical town with natural hot springs called Bagno Vignoni. Even after my botched attempt at homemade raviolis that night, I knew the week to come would be the highlight of my trip.
On my second night, a family of four arrived with a knock at my door asking for help finding their room since they arrived later than expected. I explained the are a, but the conversation quickly turned from room location to life. The man and woman were born and raised in Cairo before moving to Hamburg to start their family, now on a vacation in the countryside eight years later. Over the course of the week, I had the pleasure of feeling like I was part of it, too. Flanked by this wonderful family and delightful locals who made the property feel like home, this motley crew unexpectedly came together. Often relying on Google Translate to connect English, Italian, German, and Arabic, we spent hours on that terrace swapping stories, discussing cultures, comparing experiences, and soaking in that insane view. Gigi and his gray counterpart scampered around as the kids hollered “otta!” (German for cat) for a chance to pet these sweet animals. Although this confused the cats as they mainly spoke Italian and some English. I of course channeled my easily accessed inner seven year old and promptly joined them. On that terrace, despite the language barriers, age differences, and various life paths, this collection of individuals from around the world connected.
Upon my arrival, my love for that terrace and property came as no surprise. I have always loved being outside, whether it’s dinner on a patio, sitting around a bonfire, picnics on a beach, or swimming in a pool. I also have an obsession with water, but I’m trying to focus on the topic at hand here. Something about the afternoon sun or crisp night air makes everything better. Even when it’s freezing cold, I still insist on eating dinner outside, pretending it’s a sunny summer evening, and enjoying the ambiance I’ve so enthusiastically prepared. My love for the outdoors has always influenced my taste in design. Whether that’s stylistic choices like earth tones or actually brightening the space with more windows than walls, natural elements ground spaces and make them feel like home. When appropriate, of course I enjoy playing with unique colors and patterns (that I’m sure exist SOMEwhere in the natural world), but I feel most at home in earth tones, woods, plants, and as much natural light as possible. Seeing this aesthetic in the most authentic and natural way deepened this passion and will continue to inspire me both as a designer and a human.
Throughout the entire week, my French doors remained open wide (pre-mosquito season, thank goodness), sunlight spilling over my sheets, the scent of Cypress trees carried in the wind, and Farida, the eight year old queen of Hamburg, appearing in the doorway insisting that we go on a snail search. I read my book every day on the terrace, often interrupted by the two year old prince of Egypt’s precious cackles and squeals. Upon hearing them, I happily threw the book aside to pass pebbles back and forth, a very important task we completed every day. Every evening around 8:00, with my door open to the crisp Spring air, Gigi the cat showed up at my door ready for our nightly slumber party. On my last night, we had a barbeque and spent the evening discussing everything from Egyptian history to the magic of travel to the cuisine of different cultures, brought together by this warm communal space.
However much I loved spending time with new people and experiencing new cultures, I knew I wanted and needed to look inward as well. Up to that point, I site-saw the life out of me, met seventeen people per day in hostels, and constantly pushed through swarms of tourists (I know, I too am a tourist, but I am traveling solo and have become weathered and impatient). During my week on the farm, I experienced a peace and quiet that I unknowingly desired as my trip progressed. I spent mornings alone on that terrace watching the sunrise, drinking Italian coffee, petting Italian cats, writing about Italian experiences. Letting that fresh Italian air ease my thoughts and pulse, both of which race far too often (especially after driving a car there and seeing my life flash before my eyes). That home welcomed both peaceful solitude and connected community, both in ways that impacted me more than I could have imagined. A balance that I desperately needed and, now I realize, always will. Maybe with a cat next to me. We’ll see. Until we meet again, Gigi!