✈️ Field Notes from Florence

5 small joys -- they probably aren't what you think.

I travel for work roughly every six months. Being part of the Readwise team has allowed me to visit places like Norway, Santa Fe, Ireland, Curaçao — and most recently, Tuscany. Spending time together helps us become a stronger team, and gives us a chance to get things done in person that are difficult to do remotely.

My favorite thing, though, about it is how much I learn about the world and myself. While on the plane home, I wrote down some of my takeaways from my most recent overseas trip, then promptly came down with a cold, and couldn’t send them out when I wanted. So here they are, a bit belated but hopefully still interesting.

Bonbons are delicious.

When I was a kid, I read a book about a woman who absolutely loved macaroons¹. When I finally had my first macaroon — while I was getting ready for my wedding, actually — I remember thinking: “this? This² is what she couldn’t resist and foolishly spent her money on? They aren’t even that good.” I’ve heard of people having a similar reaction to Turkish Delight, which the White Witch famously uses to suborn Edward in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.

But I’ve been reading about bonbons for years — usually in the context of some lazy woman “laying around eating bonbons” but breakfast in Tuscany was the first time I’d ever seen a food in person that was labelled “bonbons.” The ones I had were delicious; the first one I had struck me as a tiny pudding-stuffed donuts, but I liked the portion size more than the donuts I'm used to from back home in Maryland.

When I tried to search for them online, though, I discovered that in America, a bonbon is more like a chocolate candy; the sort of thing I’d call a truffle (not the mushroom kind, the Valentine’s day mixed box of chocolates kind). “Bon Bon” is trademarked by Hershey and means a frozen confection made from vanilla ice cream and covered in chocolate — something totally different. The term apparently originated in France, where it can indicate anything from fancy “box of chocolates” candies, to chewy flavored candies that sound more like Starbursts.

The closest thing I found to what I had in Tuscany was this classic chocolate and almond treat, which is described as a biscuit but looks like what I’d bet an old-fashioned macaroon actually was. I have a bit more sympathy for Nora now, honestly; they were excellent.

Decorative shutters are silly.

The rooms I stayed in while visiting Curaçao and Tuscany both had real wooden shutters, and as a result, I have been completely radicalized against the fake decorative shutters that are common where I live. In my region, it’s very common to see plastic shutters that are attached to the wall of the house — and even if they could be closed in a windstorm, they’re often too thin to actually cover the windows they’re situated beside.

From a practicality perspective, I admit that we don’t get much in the way of typhoon winds or tornados or hailstorms or whatever where I’m from, but we do sometimes get hurricanes and I’ve personally witnessed a waterspout. But shutters are outstanding at blocking out unwanted light, and much more pleasant to use than curtains or blinds. They’re also sturdier, and therefore, I assume, easier to clean. Why aren’t they more common?

Yeah, if I had to choose, I’d rather have screens than shutters. Getting a wasp in my room was annoying, and my region has mosquitos out the wazoo. But why should I have to choose? Why did Tuscany have signs reminding us to keep doors closed, so swallows don’t get into buildings — but no screens on the windows? Inset screens on a track can slide separately from shutters or windows, similar to how screen doors work. Roller screens exist and can even close with magnets, I’ve seen that on patio doors too. The technology exists.

Why aren’t we using it?

Edible landscaping is awesome.

I’ve always had a pretty strong bias toward edible plants in my garden. Sage flowers are beautiful, raspberry canes are easy to grow, and even though my broccoli and brussels sprouts didn’t work out, I learned a lot growing them. But I’ve only rarely seen actual landscaping done with herbs, and every time I do, I love it.

In Tuscany, I saw a lot of lavender, rosemary, and olive trees. I get why we don’t do much with edible trees in America — fruit attracts pests if it’s not properly harvested, and unpruned trees like the mulberries in my neighborhood are hard to get fruit from anyway. But I wish more people gardened with beautiful, edible plants like sage and rosemary, which look an awful lot like popular flowers and don’t need much in the way of water anyway.

Greenhouses aren’t just for plants.

The place we stayed at in Tuscany set up most of the restaurant spaces in greenhouses. They were cold in the morning unless the heaters were on, but I loved them. So bright and sunny. So cozy. A couple of mounted space heaters and a chest full of blankets and we were all set. If they got too warm, we could prop open one of the glass panes in any direction to allow for airflow. I spent a bunch of time sitting on my laptop in the sun, protected from the elements but still able to hear and see the landscape around me while I worked.

I want one so bad.

Oh, not as big as the restaurant sized ones — but a quick glance at Amazon tells me that I could get a beautiful cedar 8’x16’ greenhouse (affiliate link, why not) for under $2,000. I could put a huge hammock and a small chair in there, and probably fit a little table, too. Maybe a chest with a blanket. Would I actually use it? I don’t know. Maybe when I retire, or when the kids are old enough to eat outside without it being a huge hassle.

If I really get my butt in gear, maybe I could use it for starting seedlings for the garden.

Home is where my heart is.

Every time I travel, it makes me appreciate the things I normally take for granted. In America, waitstaff keeps my cup filled with water as a matter of course. I don’t have to remember to specify that I like my drinks uncarbonated. The land is relatively flat (Norway was rough on my poor postpartum hips), and BWI (my ‘home’ airport) has what I consider the perfect ratio of well-spaced airport terminals to delicious restaurants. There are a thousand other things I love about home, from the way my shower is precisely the way I like it, to my own home cooking. And best of all, my family is here.

Before I met my husband, I had never travelled overseas. Since then, I’ve visited several different countries, but the thing I love most about traveling isn’t the opportunity to relax, or the exciting adventures, or the excellent food, or even meeting interesting strangers — it’s the way traveling provides context for things I’ve only read about. Visiting the Black Forest in Germany gave me a visceral understanding of stories like Hansel & Gretel and Little Red Riding Hood — it’s impossible to imagine those tales coming out of the forests near my home, which are of a completely different character.

Every time I travel, I learn something about the world³. I flesh out my understanding of fiction, of politics, of history, of culture. And I fall just a little bit more in love with the mid-Atlantic region of the United States of America. Mosquitoes and all.

1. A Doll’s House, by Henrick Ibsen. Technically, it was a play, but I don’t think I ever saw it performed and we read it as part of 10th grade English class, so it felt like a book — and not a terribly good one.

2. I suppose it’s worth noting that modern macaroons (the brightly colored little cookie sandwiches) post-date the writing of the book, but even so. It’s a small almond cookie, they aren’t that big of a deal.

3. Those straight trees you see in movies set in Tuscany are cypress trees, and they grow like that on their own, without pruning. It was really neat to see them in person, especially because I’ve always associated cypress trees with my local swamps before this trip.