This summer I've been pondering why people, including myself, travel. I ask this in Lucca when I see a group marching behind a tour guide who is holding a pennant and listing historic dates and details that everyone will soon forget. What is it that people hope to experience by spending a few hours in a new place? Are they getting what they want? Is it worth the hassle, money, and impact? I ask myself these same questions with different answers depending on the day and my mood.

We opted not to travel this summer. I hope that the people who did wander got what they wanted and have tread lightly. Lately, I've also wondered if I'm feeling symptoms of what Fanny Burney described way back in the 1700s when she wrote, "Traveling is the ruin of all happiness! There's no looking at a building after seeing Italy." A handful of times we've considered going someplace, but then we ask what will (insert other place) offer us compared to staying in Lucca? Usually it doesn't feel like it's better to go. Despite that sentiment, we've finally begun wading back into the travel waters during the waning days of summer.

Isola Capraia

For almost a year we've scoured the Italian map looking for a potential Italian version of Greek island A. Could such exist? Might we locate a surrogate closer to us that offers the same magic of island A? Last week, we interrogated prime suspect #1, Isola Capraia.

Capraia is a three hour ferry ride from Livorno--it's about 70 miles from Lucca as the Italian gull flies-- and has an over-winter population of almost 100 people. It's also mostly a nature preserve, in part because it was a prison island until 1986. Maybe that's not the most romantic backstory, but it holds promise for being an unspoiled place.

Unlike our welcome-to-overtourism-arrival on Capri in April, the Capraia arrival was mellow. There are few cars on the island and it's pleasant to walk on the immaculate roads amid the immaculate houses and immaculate flora. Immaculate might be the single best word to describe the place. So many places in Greece have what we'd consider to be a scruffy charm. Capraia looks a little like a Greek island that went on an Italian makeover TV show and came out with a new set of clothes and a new hairdo. Immaculate and scruffy both have their joys; discuss.

Capraia's a stunning place but maybe it didn't overcome Island A for our love. It has a few great swimming spots (Sam got in 5 banyos, counting each one as the Greeks do) and several nice hikes although these are mostly unshaded (unlike Island A). Despite being such a small island it has several excellent restaurants with local seafood. The grocery situation is about what you'd expect for a place with 100 permanent residents, i.e., barebones. We could only find accommodations at a hotel, so we lacked any cooking ability. If we go back we'd want at least a small kitchen. Restaurants, though good, are expensive and dinner out is challenging because of 1) the small number of places and 2) the Italian love of making reservations... which we don't share. We consumed a shocking number of crackers one day, although that might've been best as we had some upset tummies (too much raw fish)?

Pine Nut Tutorial

While walking around one evening, we saw a mom with two young kids sitting in a playground tinkering with some pine cones. Sam asked if we could watch how to extract the pine nuts and the kids eagerly showed us how you smash the little casing around the nut. We've always wanted to see how to harvest pine nuts! We soon saw that it's difficult to extract them in one piece. The family generously shared a few freshly extracted specimens. They tasted as you'd expect but with an intense almost electric-but-nice resin flavor. Yum. Ah, maybe this is one of the many reasons we travel?

Italian Social Bubble

Other than the nice pine nut interaction, we were invisible to everyone else. The locals didn't engage with us and the traveling Italians, as they often do, stayed in their self-contained vacation bubbles. They don't even interact with other Italians much on holiday.

We both have this gut feeling that despite Italy being a lovely, livable place, that it might become less lovable when we dig deeper below the surface and understand the language more. But perhaps this is more or less true of everywhere? An expat we know here in Lucca, who is divorced from an Italian guy, told us that you don't really want to hear what the Lucchese talk about. But for now, we feel slightly thrilled when we can pick up the gist of an Italian conversation. We'll see how our feelings for this place evolve and what the future holds. It's still, for now, a great place to be.

What've We Got Toulouse

Our friends Tina and Tom were in France back in May and we had hoped to meet them there but it didn't work out. The almost-getting-to-see-each other phenomenon happened many times this summer with other friends, too. Luckily for us, any moment now, Tina and Tom are arriving for another holiday in France and we're going to meet them in Toulouse. We've been curious about this part of France. And we feel lucky to soon see friends and explore another culture with them (oh, right, that's a reason we like to travel!). This morning, Sam mentioned to her Lucchese friend, Laura, that we're heading to France and Laura warned 'non mangi bene nella francia!' (You won't eat well in France!) These Italians love Italian food above all else. Another Italian woman in Laura's shop spoke up and said she liked French cheeses, but Laura defended Italian cheese honor with a forceful gorgonzola parry. These Italians.

We fully expect we'll eat better than Laura anticipates. I'm also curious to see how we feel about Fanny Burney's argument, too. Can French buildings really be as bad as the food?