Sevilla is located in Southern Spain and is the capital of the Spanish province by the same name. Originally founded by the Romans, Sevilla was conquered by the Moors. The Catholics later took control of the city and it eventually became the royal home of the King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. Christopher Columbus is memorialized everywhere and the cathedral houses his tomb. However, many places boast that they are the final resting place of the famous explorer. According to DNA testing, Sevilla has less than 10% of his remains. The Moorish influence can certainly be felt as you walk through the city. The colors and tile work throughout the city are beautiful. The streets are narrow and the most confusing we have encountered yet. The design was from a defensive perspective as well as to help keep the city cool in the summer heat. Our introduction to Sevilla was one of confusion and frustration. The city streets are incredibly complicated and change names at every plaza, of which there are many. The street signs are also posted half way down the block. Melissa and I got incredibly lost. A very kind couple took pity on us as we walked back and forth in the dark with our massive packs getting increasingly irritated and tired and discouraged. They did not speak English so we pointed to the name of the street we needed on our directions. They led us to a hotel where we got a map and then they led us to a street, which ended up being the wrong street. Even the locals don't understand their streets! We were very thankful for their help and the map. It was so amazing to see just how kind people are.
Sevilla has several beautiful parks. One park has beautiful flowers and trees from around the world, originally planted for a world of flowers event planned for 1929. Although the fair was a massive bust (apparently people did not want to travel to Sevilla to look at flowers when the stock market crashed) the gardens are still quite enjoyable. Sevilla planned another fair in 1992 which was much more successful, especially since people were already in Spain for the Olympics. Sevilla is also home to the 3rd largest cathedral in Europe. It was originally a mosque and the Catholics simply put a cross on top of it and expanded the building.
Bullfighting and Flamenco dancing are integral parts of the culture. The bullfight season has drawn to a close but we were able to enjoy Flamenco. Our hostel organized a Tapas and Flamenco night which was quite nice. Our hostel "guide" for the night was fairly useless. She provided no information on the dance culture and told us to either hurry up or slow down or stop and then to hurry up again on our way to the venue. We had to find our way back to the hostel through the maze-like streets because she was distracted making out with a man she met at the bar. Really, we just needed her to find the place, so it all worked out quite well. Flamenco is a beautiful and passionate and intense dance. It consists of a man and a woman dancing, a singer, acoustic guitar music, clapping, stomping and cassanets. The dancer will set the tempo and the others will join in, improvising clapping rhythms. The singing is low and soulful. The music will vary in tempo before reaching a powerful climax. The show´s final act was a juerga, or an informal jam session where the performers´ friends were invited to the stage to participate in a dynamic and powerful conversation that consisted of dancing, singing and clapping. Flamenco's complexity is impressive and I found myself wishing that I could understand everything that was going on. At the same time, all of the people who joined in the juerga were in their early 20s and the incredible art form seemed much more accessible, which only made it more beautiful.
Like all things, our Flamenco experience was colored by the people we were with. We reunited in Sevilla with a young Canadian couple we had met in Barcelona. We also met David and Lindsay's friend Liz, a California nurse they had met in Nice. We shared a table with three women in their 50s from Toronto. One was especially obnoxious and according to David, personified Toronto. (Apparently not all Canadians are equal.) Barb insisted on sitting right next to the stage and proceeded to move her body in the best manner to obstruct as many people's views as possible. She was phenomenally ethnocentric and was annoyed that she could get kicked when her crossed her legs over the stage. When she was not satisfied with how much sangria was in her already full glass, she tipped it up, unapologetically spilling the majority of the communal pitcher. Later, in an attempt to get more wine soaked fruit from the bottom of the pitcher, she banged the pitcher, cracking the glass. I feel that there is a lesson there...
Sevilla is also known for its night life. Melissa and I were feeling a bit lame that we had not yet gone on a bar crawl. We thought that it would be more fun to go with our new friends. The bars do not even open until quite late, so we pregamed in at the hostel bar on happy hour sangria. We then went to several different bars. From the bars, you migrate to the dance clubs. In fact the dance clubs open when the bars in Colorado Springs close. We definitely missed the smoke free zone of American night life. One bar was so smokey that we sat outside. We went to a reggae dance club that was filled with the haze of all kinds of smoke. The bar scene is the same everywhere. There is always the girl dancing and looking for worth in the attention of men, guys looking to get laid and men who believe that their penis grants them all sorts of rights when in the company of the fairer sex and then there are the token awkward people. We bailed early. The thought of going out and getting completely smashed, reeking of smoke and the hangover that follows all seems like a terrible idea. The pub crawl just made us realize that we are old. But then again, I have never been a big partier. They say that you learn a lot about yourself when traveling. And they would be right. Sometimes you just learn what you already knew.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Sevilla Edition
- Climb 34 ramps to the top of the cathedral bell tower (they built ramps for their horses instead of steps that they would have to climb themselves. I personally don't know any horse that would go in that bell tower though)
- Enjoy a chocolate mouse created by a hostel roommate who was conveniently a pastry chef
- Watch a stereotypical gay man from San Francisco dance down a street with flamenco and wedding dresses displayed in shop windows.
- Meet a Canadian more excited about soccer than hockey.
- Refer to manikins as landmarks.
- Crave a Starbucks and the drink sizes available (Yup, I have sold my soul).
- Catch a glimpse into actual Flamenco culture as young Spaniards clapped and sang and created a unique medley of sounds.
- Watch a Spainard´s drink for him while he joined in the clapping and singing of the flamenco juerga.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Barcelona
Barcelona. The Catalan capital. Despite the difficulty we experienced trying to get to the city, there is a great energy. First off, the sun is shining. After the oppressive grey clouds of Italy and the constant precipitation, ranging from a mist to drizzle to a torrential down pour, we are thrilled to be in a new country. We were also sick of pasta. I didn't think it was possible to be sick of Italian food but it is. Our last night in Milan, a criteria for dinner was anything but pasta. So we are in the land of paella and sangria and sun. Things are looking up.
Barcelona is an intriguing city. It was founded by the Romans and was once surrounded by a thick wall. The streets in the Gothic Quarter are narrow and create a maze to catch and confuse tourists. The streets in the old Jewish Quarter are especially narrow as the people had no where to expand their homes except into the streets. The Jewish Quarter is full of interesting history. The Jews were the only one who could do business between the Christians and Moors and their middle man position led to great wealth. However, when the recession hit, they were the ones blamed. Later, they were also accused of introducing the Bubonic Plague. So when the Spanish Inquisition began, there were few Jews around to persecute because they had already left town. The narrow streets will suddenly open up into squares which are usually filled with musicians. Wandering the streets of Barcelona is quite a pleasant experience. It appeals to the ear as well as the eye. The Industrial Revolution started the migration from rural areas to the cities. New wealth was introduced. In Barcelona, there was new money, business men wanting to establish their wealth and status and virgin ground once the wall was torn down. This created the perfect foundation for Art Nueva architecture to build upon. Barcelona's most famous son is Antoni Gaudi, an eccentric and rather creative architect. His buildings are distinct, colorful and remind me of the Gum Drop Mountains in Candyland. His most famous design is the La Sagrada Familia, a massive cathedral. He took over the project early in its construction and 128 years later, construction is still being done. It is estimated to be finished in another 30 to 40 years. Unfortunately, many of the design plans and sculptures that Gaudi had prepared prior to his death (mistaken for a bum, he got ran over by a street tram) were destroyed during the Spanish Civil War. The cathedral is also a people´s church and construction is completely funded by people's donations. While we were there, the Pope consecrated the church, officially making it a basilica. It is an impressive building with fantastic detail and creativity and maybe it will be done when I go on another tour of Europe to celebrate my retirement.
We went out for over priced sangria with a fantastic young Canadian couple, David and Lindsay. We went to a place on Las Rambla, a massive boulevard that leads down to the Marina and is known for being a tourist hot spot. Street performers line the street in creative and bizarre costumes. A bull fighter next to C-P3O next to a levitating Yoda next to an underworld creature of undetermined species. Barcelona is also known for its pick pocketers. We met several people who had been robbed, including one girl, Sam from Canada, who ran the thief down in the metro and was able to retrieve her purse and identification cards but not her money. Despite its reputation for thieves, it is an enjoyable city. One just needs to be aware of their belongings and surroundings. But then again, that is just good practice. Common sense, who knew?
Barcelona is home to some great parks. Montjuic is perched on top of a hill looking over the water. We went to Park Guell which was designed by Gaudi to be a wealthy housing development. Only three homes were built but they are remarkable to look at. He also integrated benches into the walk ways which is quite fun. The beach was the best though. Barcelona is located on the Mediterranean Sea. I had a glorious run down Las Rambla and then along the boardwalk. Melissa an I enjoyed a fantastic day at the beach. Sand was imported from the Sahara to create a beach for the 1992 Summer Olympics. It may be man made, but it is still very enjoyable. A chill day was also exactly what we needed. It would have been more enjoyable if we hadn't been hustled constantly, people circled the beach like vultures, pouncing on any new arrivals. The days soundtrack went something like this, "Massage? Massage? Only 5 Euro. Muy Bueno. Cold beer? Water? What you like? Hash? Cocaine? Massage? Sarong? Very nice! Coconut? It is very good. Marijuana? Massage?
Spain is known for its tapas. You make a dinner of tapas and just move from one bar to another, drinking sangria and eating small portions of tasty tapas. However, if you just go to one place, the tapas are not satisfying and you find yourself at the grocery store for something else to eat. Because people bar hop all night, the beers are much smaller which was a bit of a disappointment, especially since Germany set the standard with one liter beers. We had dinner at a restaurant recommended to us by a native Barcelonean. Founded in 1786 it is known for its Catalan specialities. It was absolutely delicious. The only bummer is that it did not open until 9 pm. That is very typical across Spain. Shops will open from 10 am to 2 pm, close for siesta and then open up again around 5 pm. It is a very different approach from our productivity driven culture. While it can be frustrating when you are used to convenience and multiple options, it is also something to appreciate. Time management reflects priorities and values. Traveling allows you an opportunity to observe people and the differences in values. So instead of being frustrated that a shop or cafe is closed, it is best to take a step back and contemplate the differences and what can be learned from them. It is also best to always carry granola bars with you as well. Easier to appreciate those differences if you aren't fainting from hunger.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Barcelona Edition
- See a nun wearing a tri colored baseball cap perched on top of her habit
- Help two Spainards do laundry. Help a man from Senegal do laundry. It is universal. Men are generally clueless when it comes to laundry.
- Contemplate levitation
- Wander through a fabulous market of fruit, vegetable, and fish stalls
- Get a large macchiato in a miniature cup. A disappointing start to the day for sure.
- Play in the sand of the Sahara
Barcelona is an intriguing city. It was founded by the Romans and was once surrounded by a thick wall. The streets in the Gothic Quarter are narrow and create a maze to catch and confuse tourists. The streets in the old Jewish Quarter are especially narrow as the people had no where to expand their homes except into the streets. The Jewish Quarter is full of interesting history. The Jews were the only one who could do business between the Christians and Moors and their middle man position led to great wealth. However, when the recession hit, they were the ones blamed. Later, they were also accused of introducing the Bubonic Plague. So when the Spanish Inquisition began, there were few Jews around to persecute because they had already left town. The narrow streets will suddenly open up into squares which are usually filled with musicians. Wandering the streets of Barcelona is quite a pleasant experience. It appeals to the ear as well as the eye. The Industrial Revolution started the migration from rural areas to the cities. New wealth was introduced. In Barcelona, there was new money, business men wanting to establish their wealth and status and virgin ground once the wall was torn down. This created the perfect foundation for Art Nueva architecture to build upon. Barcelona's most famous son is Antoni Gaudi, an eccentric and rather creative architect. His buildings are distinct, colorful and remind me of the Gum Drop Mountains in Candyland. His most famous design is the La Sagrada Familia, a massive cathedral. He took over the project early in its construction and 128 years later, construction is still being done. It is estimated to be finished in another 30 to 40 years. Unfortunately, many of the design plans and sculptures that Gaudi had prepared prior to his death (mistaken for a bum, he got ran over by a street tram) were destroyed during the Spanish Civil War. The cathedral is also a people´s church and construction is completely funded by people's donations. While we were there, the Pope consecrated the church, officially making it a basilica. It is an impressive building with fantastic detail and creativity and maybe it will be done when I go on another tour of Europe to celebrate my retirement.
We went out for over priced sangria with a fantastic young Canadian couple, David and Lindsay. We went to a place on Las Rambla, a massive boulevard that leads down to the Marina and is known for being a tourist hot spot. Street performers line the street in creative and bizarre costumes. A bull fighter next to C-P3O next to a levitating Yoda next to an underworld creature of undetermined species. Barcelona is also known for its pick pocketers. We met several people who had been robbed, including one girl, Sam from Canada, who ran the thief down in the metro and was able to retrieve her purse and identification cards but not her money. Despite its reputation for thieves, it is an enjoyable city. One just needs to be aware of their belongings and surroundings. But then again, that is just good practice. Common sense, who knew?
Barcelona is home to some great parks. Montjuic is perched on top of a hill looking over the water. We went to Park Guell which was designed by Gaudi to be a wealthy housing development. Only three homes were built but they are remarkable to look at. He also integrated benches into the walk ways which is quite fun. The beach was the best though. Barcelona is located on the Mediterranean Sea. I had a glorious run down Las Rambla and then along the boardwalk. Melissa an I enjoyed a fantastic day at the beach. Sand was imported from the Sahara to create a beach for the 1992 Summer Olympics. It may be man made, but it is still very enjoyable. A chill day was also exactly what we needed. It would have been more enjoyable if we hadn't been hustled constantly, people circled the beach like vultures, pouncing on any new arrivals. The days soundtrack went something like this, "Massage? Massage? Only 5 Euro. Muy Bueno. Cold beer? Water? What you like? Hash? Cocaine? Massage? Sarong? Very nice! Coconut? It is very good. Marijuana? Massage?
Spain is known for its tapas. You make a dinner of tapas and just move from one bar to another, drinking sangria and eating small portions of tasty tapas. However, if you just go to one place, the tapas are not satisfying and you find yourself at the grocery store for something else to eat. Because people bar hop all night, the beers are much smaller which was a bit of a disappointment, especially since Germany set the standard with one liter beers. We had dinner at a restaurant recommended to us by a native Barcelonean. Founded in 1786 it is known for its Catalan specialities. It was absolutely delicious. The only bummer is that it did not open until 9 pm. That is very typical across Spain. Shops will open from 10 am to 2 pm, close for siesta and then open up again around 5 pm. It is a very different approach from our productivity driven culture. While it can be frustrating when you are used to convenience and multiple options, it is also something to appreciate. Time management reflects priorities and values. Traveling allows you an opportunity to observe people and the differences in values. So instead of being frustrated that a shop or cafe is closed, it is best to take a step back and contemplate the differences and what can be learned from them. It is also best to always carry granola bars with you as well. Easier to appreciate those differences if you aren't fainting from hunger.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Barcelona Edition
- See a nun wearing a tri colored baseball cap perched on top of her habit
- Help two Spainards do laundry. Help a man from Senegal do laundry. It is universal. Men are generally clueless when it comes to laundry.
- Contemplate levitation
- Wander through a fabulous market of fruit, vegetable, and fish stalls
- Get a large macchiato in a miniature cup. A disappointing start to the day for sure.
- Play in the sand of the Sahara
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Milan Mishaps
We left Cinque Terre dripping in the rain and made our way to Milan. We had originally planned to go to Avignon, France after Cinque Terre. Unfortunately, the French strikes had paralyzed much of the transportation and we didn't want to get stuck in France. We had heard many horror stories of people who were unable to travel and ended up buying plane tickets to get to their next destination. We elected to take a flight to Barcelona and avoid train travel in France. We found a cheap ticket online and made our way to Milan.
Milan is a big city and compares itself to New York. It is the financial and fashion capital of Italy. A lowly backpacker feels quite shabby walking the streets of Milan. We saw many mink coats and other furs and women whose faces were plastered with make up. We were very wet and tired when we arrived. The train journey had been delayed and extended due to the rain. We boarded the train quickly, wanting to make sure we were at least on the train before it took off again only to sit in our seats for an hour and twenty minutes before it even left the station. Milan was cold and grey and rainy as well. A huge front covered northern Italy. We stayed one night in the hostel. The following day, we went off on a search to mail stuff home, got lost along the way and ended up paying an exorbitant amount of money. Then we went to see the cathedral in Milan which is located next to the main shopping area. At this point, I'm a bit cathedraled out. I feel that Siena's was the best and nothing can compare. There is a huge covered shopping center. Where the pedestrian walkways meet there is a Prada, Louis Vitton and McDonalds. We sang, "One of these things is not like the other." We then set off for the airport. It took a bit longer to get there than we had anticipated. We knew our flight was with Iberia but when we got to the check in, there was a massive line and no one was doing anything. We stood in that line for 45 minutes. When we finally got to the front we were informed that we were in the wrong line and needed to be at Vueling, Iberia's little brother airline check-in instead. We ran across the airport, our bags bobbing. Our ridiculous sprint was in vain as check in had closed. So we had to rebook our flight, paying more than the original ticket. Oh well. Live and learn. Learn and live. We finally arrived in Barcelona and as we were trying to figure out the ticket system, just missed the train into the city and had to wait another 30 minutes. It was now quite late and by the time we reached the transfer station to switch metro lines, the metro had closed. So we took a taxi to the hostel. I was a bit relieved. I was tired and I didn't relish the thought of wandering the streets in a new city searching for the hostel after midnight. Especially since Barcelona has a reputation for pickpocketers and thieves. So best not to look completely lost and vulnerable. Milan, a fancy big city with crap weather, probably not my favorite place. But it didn't matter. We had arrived in Spain.
Things I Didn't Expect When I Woke Up
Milan Edition
-Wonder if a Canadian was going to cry as they recounted the gold winning hockey goal in the 2010 Olympics
-Be inspired to volunteer at the Olympics
-Hear a comment that was as offensive it was funny "All you non-Asians look the same" This came from a middle aged Asian lady clearly concerned with being politically correct
-Fall down the stairs and make the Asian lady scream. I slipped. She watched it and let out a death piercing scream. The Italian hostel host ran down the stairs, convinced that someone was getting murdered. Nope, Kate just fell down the stairs.
Milan is a big city and compares itself to New York. It is the financial and fashion capital of Italy. A lowly backpacker feels quite shabby walking the streets of Milan. We saw many mink coats and other furs and women whose faces were plastered with make up. We were very wet and tired when we arrived. The train journey had been delayed and extended due to the rain. We boarded the train quickly, wanting to make sure we were at least on the train before it took off again only to sit in our seats for an hour and twenty minutes before it even left the station. Milan was cold and grey and rainy as well. A huge front covered northern Italy. We stayed one night in the hostel. The following day, we went off on a search to mail stuff home, got lost along the way and ended up paying an exorbitant amount of money. Then we went to see the cathedral in Milan which is located next to the main shopping area. At this point, I'm a bit cathedraled out. I feel that Siena's was the best and nothing can compare. There is a huge covered shopping center. Where the pedestrian walkways meet there is a Prada, Louis Vitton and McDonalds. We sang, "One of these things is not like the other." We then set off for the airport. It took a bit longer to get there than we had anticipated. We knew our flight was with Iberia but when we got to the check in, there was a massive line and no one was doing anything. We stood in that line for 45 minutes. When we finally got to the front we were informed that we were in the wrong line and needed to be at Vueling, Iberia's little brother airline check-in instead. We ran across the airport, our bags bobbing. Our ridiculous sprint was in vain as check in had closed. So we had to rebook our flight, paying more than the original ticket. Oh well. Live and learn. Learn and live. We finally arrived in Barcelona and as we were trying to figure out the ticket system, just missed the train into the city and had to wait another 30 minutes. It was now quite late and by the time we reached the transfer station to switch metro lines, the metro had closed. So we took a taxi to the hostel. I was a bit relieved. I was tired and I didn't relish the thought of wandering the streets in a new city searching for the hostel after midnight. Especially since Barcelona has a reputation for pickpocketers and thieves. So best not to look completely lost and vulnerable. Milan, a fancy big city with crap weather, probably not my favorite place. But it didn't matter. We had arrived in Spain.
Things I Didn't Expect When I Woke Up
Milan Edition
-Wonder if a Canadian was going to cry as they recounted the gold winning hockey goal in the 2010 Olympics
-Be inspired to volunteer at the Olympics
-Hear a comment that was as offensive it was funny "All you non-Asians look the same" This came from a middle aged Asian lady clearly concerned with being politically correct
-Fall down the stairs and make the Asian lady scream. I slipped. She watched it and let out a death piercing scream. The Italian hostel host ran down the stairs, convinced that someone was getting murdered. Nope, Kate just fell down the stairs.
Cinque Terre - Sunny Hikes and Dancing in the Rain
Cinque Terre is one of the most idyllic places in the world. Five quaint fishing villages are connected by a hiking trail on the northwestern coast of Italy along the Mediterranean Sea. The hiking trails used to be the only land connection for centuries. Only in the last century did they get a train and roads. The villages consist of brightly colored homes stacked upon each other and crammed along the cliff face. Brightly colored fishing boats line the streets near the harbor and bob out in the water below. The hills are quite steep and are terraced with vineyards, lemon trees and olive groves. Centuries of farming techniques have made the craggy cliffs that reach abruptly from the sea fertile and fruitful. Cinque Terre is also home to pesto and focaccia. You basically just hike from town to town, stopping for gelato and focaccia. The trails are a joy to hike and appeal to all of your senses. The soundtrack is of birds twittering, seagulls calling, the wave crashing against the cliffs below and church bells ring from a nearby village. Basil, thyme, rosemary and lavender grow wild. When in season, the air is also scented with lemon. The sights are breathtaking. The little villages dot the green terraced hills and beautiful flowers grow along the trail. The blue green ocean is mesmerizing. There are sun spots in the horizon as the sun rays break through the clouds. I'm fairly confident that I could watch the waves crash up along the shore all day. The air is clean and fresh. Cinque Terre is truly a beautiful place.
We had heard that Cinque Terre was great from several travelers. When I googled it and saw the images for myself, I said "Wow, definitely going there." Rick Steves is a big fan and we met several travelers who had chosen to include it on their Italian itinerary based on his raving reviews. When we left Florence, we stopped in Pisa to take the stereotypical tourist pictures with the infamous tower. Never has an engineering failure been celebrated so. Its foundation is absolutely terrible and as it grew in size, the added weight made it worse. It was intended to be a bell tower for the cathedral, so of course it had to be big. Its cause was not helped by the huge gaps in construction. It took about 200 years to build, mostly due to the huge pauses on the construction project. It started leaning almost immediately. In the late 1990s, the tilt exceeded 5.5 meters which was forecasted to be the towers tipping point based on computer models. It obviously survived and in 2000, the lean was corrected to a safer tilt and it is now 4.5 meters off of the center. People can climb to the top of the tower, but only 30 at a time. We did not because it consisted of standing in line, paying and I don't like unsturdy things and we really just wanted to take the pictures and move on. I'm sure that Pisa has much more to offer than the tower. Even the cathedral and baptistery which are quite nice in their own right, are overshadowed by the construction nightmare. Pisa is also home to Galileo and boasts a nice museum, one we did not check out.
We boarded the train to La Spezia and took a bus up to Biassa, a small village located just over the hill from Cinque Terre and only a short bus ride away. We met a fantastic Coloradoan named Taylor who was doing research for a start up company that provides a travel guide for runners. It features the best places to run and mountain bike as well as how to get there and information in case of injuries. It's a fantastic idea and I wish Blaze Travel Guides all the best. Check it out at http://www.blazetravelguides.org/
Our first day in Cinque Terre, the sun was brightly shining. We hiked to Vernazza and were drawn to the water front. We ate gelato and sat on the warm boulder. It was delightful and we felt no reason to leave so we just soaked in the rays. We made our way back to Manarola by train and then walked the Lovers Walk at sunset. There is a wall covered in graffiti of lovers proclaiming their everlasting love. Thousands of padlocks are locked on the railing and nets. I suppose to symbolize that people are locked in love. Cheesy and although it pains me to admit it, romantic. The sun was slipping over the horizon, turning the sky and ocean red and orange. Quite nice but it did make me want to break out into "All By Myself" But Melissa was there. As much as we enjoy each other's company, we were both wishing we were there with someone else. Ah someday... maybe... possibly... eh, oh well.
The following day we boarded the bus back to the loveliest location on earth to hike the rest of the trail. Italians will sell as many seats as they can, regardless if there is room or not. There were 18 seats on the mini bus. Twice as many people were crammed in the bus as we bounced our way down the twisting narrow road. That night, we ate dinner at a restaurant that had "Recommended by Rick Steves!" plastered all over it. It was quite delicious. The next day we woke up to a very gray, raining and cold day. As it was Sunday, most of the shops were closed. It rained all day long. In the morning, there was a constant drizzle but it progressed to a monsoon by the end of the day. We went into La Spezia and tried to kill as much time in cafes as possible. We took the train back to Cinque Terre, thinking we would enjoy an early dinner before returning to the hostel. Monterosso looked pretty dead so we took the next train to Vernazza just in time for all of the shops and cafes to close. We huddled underneath the awnings of the train station until the next train to Manorola. We were thrilled to see the Rick Steves place open. We sloshed through the rain and breathlessly sat down to enjoy a delicious dinner of a mixed seafood plate with risotto and a bottle of local wine. When the food arrived, it looked like it just came out of the ocean. They celebrate nature. The shells, feelers, pinchers all intact. An Australian couple seated next to us gave pointers on how to extract the meat. By the meal's end, we had an impressive display of exoskeletons and a belly full of satisfaction. It is quite rewarding to have to work for your dinner. We ran through the torrential downpour to the train station to get back to Riomiggiore to catch the 1830 bus back to Biassa but all of the trains were late due to the rain. Hot tip: running after a huge dinner and a bottle of wine is not a good idea. When we finally got to Riomiggiore, we discovered that we had just missed the bus and had to wait another 90 minutes. We laughed, splashed our way back to a covered area, running with our umbrellas but getting completely soaked. Melissa was not impressed by my efforts to dry off using the hand dryer in the bathroom. Our day was one mostly of waiting and killing time. But we had great fun. We journaled, we played I spy, and when we were caught in the rain, we laughed. I read aloud to Melissa as the rain pounded on the roof. We listened to the waves crash into the cliffs. It was really was quite enjoyable.
The bus finally arrived and we embarked on a death defying, nerve wracking journey. Rain came down in sheets. The windshield wipers beat furiously to keep up. Lightning illuminated the narrow, twisting road up the hill/cliff. Prayer seemed like a very good idea and I suddenly knew that we would be ok; despite the fact that I felt the bus was going much too fast and we were in danger of hydroplaning on the water that rushed down the road more resembling a river. To one side of the bus was a rock face, the other - nothing. It just plunged into the emptiness and eventually the water below. Unlike the Swiss, the Italians believe in switchbacks. At one point we turned 180 degrees almost on a dime, the water still streaming down. 160 degrees of that turn was rock face, the small headlights reflecting off of the wet rock and rain still streaming down. That night we toasted each other with hot cocoa to celebrate being alive.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Cinque Terre Edition
- Be encouraged spiritually by a professional baseball player (minor leagues)
- Have a fellow diner take a picture of our dinner
- Discover why Italy is known for its wine and not its beer
- Enjoy amazing flat bread that had been cooked by stones removed from a blazing fire and stacked with the batter layered in it.
-Watch all 6 kids of Riomiggiore dressed in rather dark costumes trick or treat
We had heard that Cinque Terre was great from several travelers. When I googled it and saw the images for myself, I said "Wow, definitely going there." Rick Steves is a big fan and we met several travelers who had chosen to include it on their Italian itinerary based on his raving reviews. When we left Florence, we stopped in Pisa to take the stereotypical tourist pictures with the infamous tower. Never has an engineering failure been celebrated so. Its foundation is absolutely terrible and as it grew in size, the added weight made it worse. It was intended to be a bell tower for the cathedral, so of course it had to be big. Its cause was not helped by the huge gaps in construction. It took about 200 years to build, mostly due to the huge pauses on the construction project. It started leaning almost immediately. In the late 1990s, the tilt exceeded 5.5 meters which was forecasted to be the towers tipping point based on computer models. It obviously survived and in 2000, the lean was corrected to a safer tilt and it is now 4.5 meters off of the center. People can climb to the top of the tower, but only 30 at a time. We did not because it consisted of standing in line, paying and I don't like unsturdy things and we really just wanted to take the pictures and move on. I'm sure that Pisa has much more to offer than the tower. Even the cathedral and baptistery which are quite nice in their own right, are overshadowed by the construction nightmare. Pisa is also home to Galileo and boasts a nice museum, one we did not check out.
We boarded the train to La Spezia and took a bus up to Biassa, a small village located just over the hill from Cinque Terre and only a short bus ride away. We met a fantastic Coloradoan named Taylor who was doing research for a start up company that provides a travel guide for runners. It features the best places to run and mountain bike as well as how to get there and information in case of injuries. It's a fantastic idea and I wish Blaze Travel Guides all the best. Check it out at http://www.blazetravelguides.org/
Our first day in Cinque Terre, the sun was brightly shining. We hiked to Vernazza and were drawn to the water front. We ate gelato and sat on the warm boulder. It was delightful and we felt no reason to leave so we just soaked in the rays. We made our way back to Manarola by train and then walked the Lovers Walk at sunset. There is a wall covered in graffiti of lovers proclaiming their everlasting love. Thousands of padlocks are locked on the railing and nets. I suppose to symbolize that people are locked in love. Cheesy and although it pains me to admit it, romantic. The sun was slipping over the horizon, turning the sky and ocean red and orange. Quite nice but it did make me want to break out into "All By Myself" But Melissa was there. As much as we enjoy each other's company, we were both wishing we were there with someone else. Ah someday... maybe... possibly... eh, oh well.
The following day we boarded the bus back to the loveliest location on earth to hike the rest of the trail. Italians will sell as many seats as they can, regardless if there is room or not. There were 18 seats on the mini bus. Twice as many people were crammed in the bus as we bounced our way down the twisting narrow road. That night, we ate dinner at a restaurant that had "Recommended by Rick Steves!" plastered all over it. It was quite delicious. The next day we woke up to a very gray, raining and cold day. As it was Sunday, most of the shops were closed. It rained all day long. In the morning, there was a constant drizzle but it progressed to a monsoon by the end of the day. We went into La Spezia and tried to kill as much time in cafes as possible. We took the train back to Cinque Terre, thinking we would enjoy an early dinner before returning to the hostel. Monterosso looked pretty dead so we took the next train to Vernazza just in time for all of the shops and cafes to close. We huddled underneath the awnings of the train station until the next train to Manorola. We were thrilled to see the Rick Steves place open. We sloshed through the rain and breathlessly sat down to enjoy a delicious dinner of a mixed seafood plate with risotto and a bottle of local wine. When the food arrived, it looked like it just came out of the ocean. They celebrate nature. The shells, feelers, pinchers all intact. An Australian couple seated next to us gave pointers on how to extract the meat. By the meal's end, we had an impressive display of exoskeletons and a belly full of satisfaction. It is quite rewarding to have to work for your dinner. We ran through the torrential downpour to the train station to get back to Riomiggiore to catch the 1830 bus back to Biassa but all of the trains were late due to the rain. Hot tip: running after a huge dinner and a bottle of wine is not a good idea. When we finally got to Riomiggiore, we discovered that we had just missed the bus and had to wait another 90 minutes. We laughed, splashed our way back to a covered area, running with our umbrellas but getting completely soaked. Melissa was not impressed by my efforts to dry off using the hand dryer in the bathroom. Our day was one mostly of waiting and killing time. But we had great fun. We journaled, we played I spy, and when we were caught in the rain, we laughed. I read aloud to Melissa as the rain pounded on the roof. We listened to the waves crash into the cliffs. It was really was quite enjoyable.
The bus finally arrived and we embarked on a death defying, nerve wracking journey. Rain came down in sheets. The windshield wipers beat furiously to keep up. Lightning illuminated the narrow, twisting road up the hill/cliff. Prayer seemed like a very good idea and I suddenly knew that we would be ok; despite the fact that I felt the bus was going much too fast and we were in danger of hydroplaning on the water that rushed down the road more resembling a river. To one side of the bus was a rock face, the other - nothing. It just plunged into the emptiness and eventually the water below. Unlike the Swiss, the Italians believe in switchbacks. At one point we turned 180 degrees almost on a dime, the water still streaming down. 160 degrees of that turn was rock face, the small headlights reflecting off of the wet rock and rain still streaming down. That night we toasted each other with hot cocoa to celebrate being alive.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Cinque Terre Edition
- Be encouraged spiritually by a professional baseball player (minor leagues)
- Have a fellow diner take a picture of our dinner
- Discover why Italy is known for its wine and not its beer
- Enjoy amazing flat bread that had been cooked by stones removed from a blazing fire and stacked with the batter layered in it.
-Watch all 6 kids of Riomiggiore dressed in rather dark costumes trick or treat
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Travel Fatigue
I am tired. Very tired. I really am not trying to gain any sympathy here because I know, I know, I can't really complain about traveling. And I'm not complaining. It's just that fatigue colors your experience. How you see the world is affected if your eyelids are propped up with toothpicks. Fatigue also shortens tempers and makes people more irritable. Melissa and I have discussed how we are both exhausted and I feel that our awareness of this is going to help keep our friendship intact. Traveling takes quite a bit of energy. It is exhausting. Even if you try to slow down the pace, you are in a new city every four days, you're constantly trying to adapt. The minute that you get used to lay of the land and saying "please, thank you, hello and good bye" in the local language it's time to move on. I've said "bitte" and "danke" in Italy and "grazie" in Spain. So I'm basically an idiot. I've gotten enough looks to confirm that. Eating out is also exhausting. Often times, it seems that you get meat and carbs and nothing else. Your body begins to crave fresh vegetables and home cooked food. Our first day in Barcelona, when we were finally in a hostel with a kitchen, we went to the grocery store and made a massive salad. We then ate that salad for breakfast and dinner for three days.
Sleeping in hostels is also fatiguing. I can count on one hand the number of good sleeps I've had since I landed in Europe two months ago. One never knows what sort of bed you will find. Will it be a bunk bed? Will it be a sturdy bunk bed or will you feel it sway with the breathing of the bunk mate below? Will the mattress have a creator? What sort of pillow will you find? We have had some that you have to fold many times for support. In Budapest, we had lumpy throw pillows from the couch. We have been fortunate not to encounter any bed bugs, mostly because Hostelworld allows you read reviews of a hostel and regardless of how great a hostel sounds, if there is one review concerning bed bugs, you move on. How many beds will be in the room? We have started to try to find smaller rooms. First, you can actually know the people that you are sharing a room with. It is a bit disconcerting to be in a room with 12 other people and not know their names. There is also much less racket and activity with fewer people. Most importantly, your odds of getting a snorer drop. What is the hostel etiquette with snorers? They disrupt everyone else's sleep. Sometimes it's not bad. Sometimes it sounds like a semi truck downshifting in a tunnel. Some have Bose radio technology and can fill the entire room and you can't determine the sleep thief. Perhaps that is a defense mechanism that the culprit has subconsciously developed as it picked up on all of the evil vibes hostel mates were sending their way. But what should be done? Do you wake them and say "Hey buddy, this is ridiculous, roll over"? Does that just make them wake up and they fitfully try to return to sleep, avoiding lying on their back so then no one gets any sleep? One girl preferred to just yell, "shut up" at the person which really just made the whole situation worse. Another girl we have met travels with a bag of pennies and throws them at the snorer, hoping that they will roll over to avoid the irritant so that she will be able to cease the copper fire. However, then people are rather confused the next morning and wonder "Why am I 17 cents richer than when I went to sleep? Surely I'm better than that."
I am also really looking forward to a good shower on my return. I have created an extensive list as to what constitutes a good shower based on many terrible showers. The water should be quite warm with good water pressure. The temperature should be adjustable. I recently encountered a shower in Barcelona that had a knob that needed to be turned like a combination lock to get hot water. Unfortunately, I did not realize that I needed to crack the code to get hot water. I had a very cold shower. I would turn the water on just enough to get wet. Turn it off and then turn it on long enough to rinse off. It was a rough start to the day. Another thing we have encountered is the shower that needs to have its button pushed every 40 seconds. I'm not sure how that conserves water. We've also heard of a shower where you pulled the string and a bucket of water was dumped on you. A shower should also be adequately lit. I'm definitely not going to shave my legs if I can't even see my hand in front of my face (yes this is after I've put my contacts in) That is hazardous. I could fillet myself. The shower head should be firmly attached to the wall. I don't want to hold it or have it dance around. A shelf in the shower for toiletries is a bonus. A hook for your towel outside the shower radius is very important. The door to the shower should close, a lock is even better. An area to change into your clothes outside of the shower, a small anteroom with a hook or a bench for your clothes is also quite nice. I really don't want to give a free show and scar others. Shower size is also a consideration. If you can do the chicken dance without touching a wall, that is big enough. I don't need to do the Macarena, just the chicken dance.
I am enjoying traveling. Everything has positives and negatives and you just have to appreciate things for what they are. I love staying in hostels. It's cheap, there are many cheap activities offered through them and most importantly, it is an excellent way to meet people. Yes, the sites are a good reason to travel but the people you meet is truly what traveling is about. The good hostels usually have kitchens and common areas to chill in. After two months of traveling, I am really ready to go home. I miss my family and friends. I miss my dog. I miss being able to have a home and to relax in my home environment. I miss cooking. I also really miss my job. I love being a nurse. I am really excited to return to my nursing career. I love caring for patients. I suppose this is the perfect vacation if it makes you realize how much you love your job. I also love my country and am looking forward to returning to America. I've been ready to go home for several weeks now but I'm here and I'm going to make the most of the situation. I will admit that it is pretty easy to make the most of the situation when you wake up in fabulous places like Italy or Spain. But the countdown to home has begun. I'm going to have many things to be thankful for and will be overwhelmed by how blessed I am when I sit down for a delicious turkey dinner on Thanksgiving.
Sleeping in hostels is also fatiguing. I can count on one hand the number of good sleeps I've had since I landed in Europe two months ago. One never knows what sort of bed you will find. Will it be a bunk bed? Will it be a sturdy bunk bed or will you feel it sway with the breathing of the bunk mate below? Will the mattress have a creator? What sort of pillow will you find? We have had some that you have to fold many times for support. In Budapest, we had lumpy throw pillows from the couch. We have been fortunate not to encounter any bed bugs, mostly because Hostelworld allows you read reviews of a hostel and regardless of how great a hostel sounds, if there is one review concerning bed bugs, you move on. How many beds will be in the room? We have started to try to find smaller rooms. First, you can actually know the people that you are sharing a room with. It is a bit disconcerting to be in a room with 12 other people and not know their names. There is also much less racket and activity with fewer people. Most importantly, your odds of getting a snorer drop. What is the hostel etiquette with snorers? They disrupt everyone else's sleep. Sometimes it's not bad. Sometimes it sounds like a semi truck downshifting in a tunnel. Some have Bose radio technology and can fill the entire room and you can't determine the sleep thief. Perhaps that is a defense mechanism that the culprit has subconsciously developed as it picked up on all of the evil vibes hostel mates were sending their way. But what should be done? Do you wake them and say "Hey buddy, this is ridiculous, roll over"? Does that just make them wake up and they fitfully try to return to sleep, avoiding lying on their back so then no one gets any sleep? One girl preferred to just yell, "shut up" at the person which really just made the whole situation worse. Another girl we have met travels with a bag of pennies and throws them at the snorer, hoping that they will roll over to avoid the irritant so that she will be able to cease the copper fire. However, then people are rather confused the next morning and wonder "Why am I 17 cents richer than when I went to sleep? Surely I'm better than that."
I am also really looking forward to a good shower on my return. I have created an extensive list as to what constitutes a good shower based on many terrible showers. The water should be quite warm with good water pressure. The temperature should be adjustable. I recently encountered a shower in Barcelona that had a knob that needed to be turned like a combination lock to get hot water. Unfortunately, I did not realize that I needed to crack the code to get hot water. I had a very cold shower. I would turn the water on just enough to get wet. Turn it off and then turn it on long enough to rinse off. It was a rough start to the day. Another thing we have encountered is the shower that needs to have its button pushed every 40 seconds. I'm not sure how that conserves water. We've also heard of a shower where you pulled the string and a bucket of water was dumped on you. A shower should also be adequately lit. I'm definitely not going to shave my legs if I can't even see my hand in front of my face (yes this is after I've put my contacts in) That is hazardous. I could fillet myself. The shower head should be firmly attached to the wall. I don't want to hold it or have it dance around. A shelf in the shower for toiletries is a bonus. A hook for your towel outside the shower radius is very important. The door to the shower should close, a lock is even better. An area to change into your clothes outside of the shower, a small anteroom with a hook or a bench for your clothes is also quite nice. I really don't want to give a free show and scar others. Shower size is also a consideration. If you can do the chicken dance without touching a wall, that is big enough. I don't need to do the Macarena, just the chicken dance.
I am enjoying traveling. Everything has positives and negatives and you just have to appreciate things for what they are. I love staying in hostels. It's cheap, there are many cheap activities offered through them and most importantly, it is an excellent way to meet people. Yes, the sites are a good reason to travel but the people you meet is truly what traveling is about. The good hostels usually have kitchens and common areas to chill in. After two months of traveling, I am really ready to go home. I miss my family and friends. I miss my dog. I miss being able to have a home and to relax in my home environment. I miss cooking. I also really miss my job. I love being a nurse. I am really excited to return to my nursing career. I love caring for patients. I suppose this is the perfect vacation if it makes you realize how much you love your job. I also love my country and am looking forward to returning to America. I've been ready to go home for several weeks now but I'm here and I'm going to make the most of the situation. I will admit that it is pretty easy to make the most of the situation when you wake up in fabulous places like Italy or Spain. But the countdown to home has begun. I'm going to have many things to be thankful for and will be overwhelmed by how blessed I am when I sit down for a delicious turkey dinner on Thanksgiving.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Florence
Florence. It is a city that you hear much about. It's considered to be absolutely beautiful and was an epicenter for the Renaissance movement. This is reflected in the architecture. Because Florence is known for its architecture and location in the famed Tuscan region, it is a tourist mecca. Upon our arrival in Florence we heard more English than Italian and saw two McDonalds in a matter of minutes. The Italian guys speak English for their pick up lines. Yes, the cheesy "Hey you dropped something.... my heart!" was used and no it was not effective. Honestly, the city felt a little flat. Perhaps this feeling was due to the overcast skies, the massive tourist industry and the feeling that everyone was out for your money, and our predominately carbohydrate yet delicious diet was starting to weigh us down.
Doumos
We took a day trip to Siena. I thought it had a much better feel. We walked through the medieval streets until we got to the Piazza. In the summer, a massive horse race is held in the center of town called the Palio. Apparently it is a smashing good time as the neighborhoods compete in a rather exciting race and horses careen around the square. The city and the Palio are featured at the beginning of the James Bond movie, "Quantum of Solace." Siena is home to a fantastic doumo. If you can only see one cathedral in Italy, I would recommend the Doumo in Siena. Way better than Florence. The facade is fantastic but the inside is incredible. Inlaid marble scenes cover the floor and there are sculptures by Michelangelo and Bellini. When I first read about it in the "Lonely Planet" I thought, "Wow, it's so lame that they have talk about the floor" But no, I gazed at the floor for ages and it truly is very impressive. We went to the Doumo in Florence and the outside is incredible. The detail is intricate. You could stare at the building for days and still be surprised and awed by something new. After Siena, the interior was lack luster. It was originally built to fit all of Florence in it. Now, it only has 202 chairs for its parishioners. Its incredibly sad to see that 202 chairs is all they need for the church. An elaborate facade that echoes emptiness inside. I thought of how that can be representative of our lives. We too build elaborate facades to make our lives look a certain way but sometimes, the heart is aching and echoing emptiness. I felt that the churches we viewed got so caught up with being and building a church that they forgot why there was a church in the first place, forgot that it all centers around Jesus. That too can happen in our lives. Fortunately, the beauty is that the emptiness can be filled with joy, peace, grace and love through Christ.
Cooking Pasta in a Kitchen From Another Time
Melissa and I went on a wine tour and tasting and a cooking class in the Tuscan hills. Once we got out of the city, we finally realized what the fuss of Tuscany is all about. It is beautiful! The rolling hills are covered in terraces. The region is famous for its wine. We were actually in the Chianti Rufina region. There are subgroups of the larger regions based on towns nearby. The slightly higher elevation affects the grapes and it is known for having unique wines. We were in a group with two couples, each celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. One man was from New York and stated that he wasn't a wine snob. But when you start talking about tannins and earthy undertones, you're pretty much a wine snob. Another couple was from Longmont and quite nice. Stating that she was a "huge foodie," the wife said that they enjoy wine but she was excited about the prospect of cooking. She was also very motherly and wanted to adopt us for the day. We went to a small vineyard and toured the facility. Wine making is an art and has evolved into a science as new technology is developed to get more precise measurements of the wine during the aging process. The vineyard also has olive trees and was preparing for olive harvest. They were putting the olive press together. I did not know that olive oil is best fresh and should be used within a year of harvest. That made me wonder about the massive gallon jugs of olive oil that are sold at Costco. We got rather generous tastings of the wine which I wasn't going to complain about. The bread in Italy is actually quite disappointing. However, we learned that if you sprinkle salt on it and drizzle olive oil over it, like the Italians do, it improves immensely.
After the wine tasting, we loaded up into a van and were driven down narrow, winding, bumpy, dirt roads to the farmhouse for the cooking class. I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit buzzed. But once we donned aprons and rolled up our sleeves, I felt quite confident and relaxed to make pasta. I had made pasta once before, mostly because one cannot find bow tie pasta in Gordon, Nebraska and I had my heart set on making bow tie primavera. That experience was nothing like what I enjoyed in that tiny farmhouse. We gathered around a massive table in a stone building that was almost 1000 years old. We made ravioli and fettucini. We were told that the ravioli filling was ready when the spoon stood straight up in the bowl. I love directions like that! We then trooped upstairs to the living quarters. A darling Italian mama had been cooking lunch for us and prepared the sauces for our pasta. I have learned on the trip that simplicity is best when it comes to food. Let the ingredients speak for themselves. Keep it simple Stupid! The spinach and ricotta ravioli was topped with a butter and sage sauce - that's right, it was only butter and sage. Christiane laughed at us when we were incredulous that those were the only two ingredients in such a delicious sauce. "Americans, they always want to make it more than it is." The fettucini was topped with a garlic, tomato and pepper concoction that had a bit of a kick and was simply divine. I'm so inspired to get home and into the kitchen. Throughout our travels, I have written down dishes and their ingredients in detail, whipping out my journal in the middle of restaurants, to get ideas for cooking at home. Whenever I feel that I'm in a food rut, I will just pull out my journal. The cooking class and wine tasting was definitely a highlight. Melissa is planning an Italian Christmas dinner. Her family has an awesome tradition of picking a country every year and making a traditional meal for their Christmas dinner. Her menu sounds pretty fantastic.
Perhaps it was the wine and food, or that we knew where the original gelatoria was in Florence but on our return to the city, we felt quite content as we walked up the hill to Piazza Michelangelo. The city was absolutely beautiful. There is a bronze replica of "The David" in the plaza. We stood next to the green David and looked out at the city at sunset. Quite pretty and it was then that I understood why people enjoy Florence so much. The following day, we went to see "The David". After you see it, all other art looks insignificant. It is absolutely beautiful and the detail is phenomenal. It is the first statue that I've seen that really evokes emotion and seems to have a soul. David is also incredibly hot. Wow, what a body. Rock hard, if you will. Michelangelo wanted to depict David after he had slain Goliath. But there is a sense of humility, that he knows he is just a man, that it was only through the Lord that he was able to be victorious and in that moment, there is a sense of vulnerability and humble strength. I really can't express it very well. There is simply nothing like it. Michelangelo completed "The David" at the age of 29 from a single piece of marble that was left over from a church construction project. It was placed in the main square of Florence and the city loved it. Not only because it is truly a masterpiece but because it was a symbol of hope. They were surrounded by enemies and it was reminder that David defeated a much larger enemy through his faith in God. David still has the power to encourage and inspire today.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Florence Edition
-Give up on my search for rocking awesome leather boots. How can I be an independent woman if I need someone else to take the boots off for me?
-Eat a delicious yet ridiculously overpriced gelato and waffle sandwich.
-Watch a soccer game, excuse me, football match in a bar full of Italians.
-Have our travel plans change three times in an hour. Scratch Morocco. Scratch Avignon. Fly to Barcelona? Go to Portugal? Go somewhere else?
Doumos
We took a day trip to Siena. I thought it had a much better feel. We walked through the medieval streets until we got to the Piazza. In the summer, a massive horse race is held in the center of town called the Palio. Apparently it is a smashing good time as the neighborhoods compete in a rather exciting race and horses careen around the square. The city and the Palio are featured at the beginning of the James Bond movie, "Quantum of Solace." Siena is home to a fantastic doumo. If you can only see one cathedral in Italy, I would recommend the Doumo in Siena. Way better than Florence. The facade is fantastic but the inside is incredible. Inlaid marble scenes cover the floor and there are sculptures by Michelangelo and Bellini. When I first read about it in the "Lonely Planet" I thought, "Wow, it's so lame that they have talk about the floor" But no, I gazed at the floor for ages and it truly is very impressive. We went to the Doumo in Florence and the outside is incredible. The detail is intricate. You could stare at the building for days and still be surprised and awed by something new. After Siena, the interior was lack luster. It was originally built to fit all of Florence in it. Now, it only has 202 chairs for its parishioners. Its incredibly sad to see that 202 chairs is all they need for the church. An elaborate facade that echoes emptiness inside. I thought of how that can be representative of our lives. We too build elaborate facades to make our lives look a certain way but sometimes, the heart is aching and echoing emptiness. I felt that the churches we viewed got so caught up with being and building a church that they forgot why there was a church in the first place, forgot that it all centers around Jesus. That too can happen in our lives. Fortunately, the beauty is that the emptiness can be filled with joy, peace, grace and love through Christ.
Cooking Pasta in a Kitchen From Another Time
Melissa and I went on a wine tour and tasting and a cooking class in the Tuscan hills. Once we got out of the city, we finally realized what the fuss of Tuscany is all about. It is beautiful! The rolling hills are covered in terraces. The region is famous for its wine. We were actually in the Chianti Rufina region. There are subgroups of the larger regions based on towns nearby. The slightly higher elevation affects the grapes and it is known for having unique wines. We were in a group with two couples, each celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. One man was from New York and stated that he wasn't a wine snob. But when you start talking about tannins and earthy undertones, you're pretty much a wine snob. Another couple was from Longmont and quite nice. Stating that she was a "huge foodie," the wife said that they enjoy wine but she was excited about the prospect of cooking. She was also very motherly and wanted to adopt us for the day. We went to a small vineyard and toured the facility. Wine making is an art and has evolved into a science as new technology is developed to get more precise measurements of the wine during the aging process. The vineyard also has olive trees and was preparing for olive harvest. They were putting the olive press together. I did not know that olive oil is best fresh and should be used within a year of harvest. That made me wonder about the massive gallon jugs of olive oil that are sold at Costco. We got rather generous tastings of the wine which I wasn't going to complain about. The bread in Italy is actually quite disappointing. However, we learned that if you sprinkle salt on it and drizzle olive oil over it, like the Italians do, it improves immensely.
After the wine tasting, we loaded up into a van and were driven down narrow, winding, bumpy, dirt roads to the farmhouse for the cooking class. I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit buzzed. But once we donned aprons and rolled up our sleeves, I felt quite confident and relaxed to make pasta. I had made pasta once before, mostly because one cannot find bow tie pasta in Gordon, Nebraska and I had my heart set on making bow tie primavera. That experience was nothing like what I enjoyed in that tiny farmhouse. We gathered around a massive table in a stone building that was almost 1000 years old. We made ravioli and fettucini. We were told that the ravioli filling was ready when the spoon stood straight up in the bowl. I love directions like that! We then trooped upstairs to the living quarters. A darling Italian mama had been cooking lunch for us and prepared the sauces for our pasta. I have learned on the trip that simplicity is best when it comes to food. Let the ingredients speak for themselves. Keep it simple Stupid! The spinach and ricotta ravioli was topped with a butter and sage sauce - that's right, it was only butter and sage. Christiane laughed at us when we were incredulous that those were the only two ingredients in such a delicious sauce. "Americans, they always want to make it more than it is." The fettucini was topped with a garlic, tomato and pepper concoction that had a bit of a kick and was simply divine. I'm so inspired to get home and into the kitchen. Throughout our travels, I have written down dishes and their ingredients in detail, whipping out my journal in the middle of restaurants, to get ideas for cooking at home. Whenever I feel that I'm in a food rut, I will just pull out my journal. The cooking class and wine tasting was definitely a highlight. Melissa is planning an Italian Christmas dinner. Her family has an awesome tradition of picking a country every year and making a traditional meal for their Christmas dinner. Her menu sounds pretty fantastic.
Perhaps it was the wine and food, or that we knew where the original gelatoria was in Florence but on our return to the city, we felt quite content as we walked up the hill to Piazza Michelangelo. The city was absolutely beautiful. There is a bronze replica of "The David" in the plaza. We stood next to the green David and looked out at the city at sunset. Quite pretty and it was then that I understood why people enjoy Florence so much. The following day, we went to see "The David". After you see it, all other art looks insignificant. It is absolutely beautiful and the detail is phenomenal. It is the first statue that I've seen that really evokes emotion and seems to have a soul. David is also incredibly hot. Wow, what a body. Rock hard, if you will. Michelangelo wanted to depict David after he had slain Goliath. But there is a sense of humility, that he knows he is just a man, that it was only through the Lord that he was able to be victorious and in that moment, there is a sense of vulnerability and humble strength. I really can't express it very well. There is simply nothing like it. Michelangelo completed "The David" at the age of 29 from a single piece of marble that was left over from a church construction project. It was placed in the main square of Florence and the city loved it. Not only because it is truly a masterpiece but because it was a symbol of hope. They were surrounded by enemies and it was reminder that David defeated a much larger enemy through his faith in God. David still has the power to encourage and inspire today.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Florence Edition
-Give up on my search for rocking awesome leather boots. How can I be an independent woman if I need someone else to take the boots off for me?
-Eat a delicious yet ridiculously overpriced gelato and waffle sandwich.
-Watch a soccer game, excuse me, football match in a bar full of Italians.
-Have our travel plans change three times in an hour. Scratch Morocco. Scratch Avignon. Fly to Barcelona? Go to Portugal? Go somewhere else?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Napoli and Pompeii
Pompeii. It is a city frozen or rather cyroplasticized in time. In 79 A.D. Mt Vesuveus erupted and the well developed city of Pompeii was covered in lava. Although it buried the city and killed thousands, it also preserved the city, creating an archaeological gold mine and unique look into life in the Roman Empire almost 2000 years ago. It was discovered during a construction project in the 1800s and the city has been carefully excavated ever since. It is massive. Fifty hectacres of an estimated 66 have been revealed. The city was very well designed, with the major roads leading to a forum with impressive temples. We walked past vineyards. Trees and grape vines have been replanted in their original holes. Detailed frescoes can still be viewed on the walls of the more wealthy homes. The marble counter tops of shops look clean enough for business today. There is a huge amphitheater that is being renovated. I was impressed that a structure over 2000 years old that has survived two earthquakes and a volcanic eruption and then 1800 years of being covered in dirt is still usable today. Pretty impressive engineering and construction. That would be a pretty sweet gig too. Melissa and I stopped to walk through their much smaller but still impressive version of the Colosseum. If you ever get a chance to go to Pompeii, do. It is eerie and amazing to see life as it once was. You walk down the cobblestone streets and you wonder at how well everything is preserved but you also know that massive devastation led to its preservation.
Pompeii is located south of Napoli. We had originally planned to take a day trip from Rome but when we had difficulty getting a hostel room in Rome, we just decided to stay the night in Napoli or Naples. When we arrived in Napoli, we first made our way to the hostel to drop our backpacks. The sun was shinning and it was quite warm. We emerged from train station to the chaos that is Piazza Garibaldi and fairly representative of the city. Naples is known for being dirty, grimy and loud. It's almost like it says, "Yeah, I'm loud and ugly but I'm here and I'm proud, so listen to what I have to say and deal with it." And I will be most happy to listen to any city that invents pizza. I was intrigued by the reputation and after reading Elizabeth Gilbert's account of her pizza experience in "Eat, Pray, Love" I wanted to go. It was only after we had left the city that we read of its crime problem and that it had over 100 mafia related deaths in 2004. Melissa was a bit intimidated by the city but gamely boarded the train and when we finally arrived at the hostel, her eyes were as big as saucers. Mine were quite wide as well. Naples has a raw energy and feels a bit more like a third world nation. Laundry hangs from every balcony of dilapidated and crumbling buildings. A layer of grime covers the city. The harbor shows a life of hard work and long hours. People line the narrow sidewalks, eating pizza outside of small stands, standing on layers of cigarette butts and disgarded wrappers. Rapid Italian swirls around you. The sidewalks were littered with massive piles of trash surrounded by swarms of flies. We later found out that there was a trash strike. However, people seemed to be rather accepting of the mounds of refuse and simply carried on with life. We often had to venture into the road as our path was barricaded by trash, which was terrifying prospect. Vespas whizzed by. Cars honk their horns loudly as they zoom by. Traffic rules are more of a suggestion. I'm not sure that there are speed limits either. We actually saw one car cut another off at an intersection. Both cars stopped in the intersection and the drivers had a heated exchange in rapid Italian. Traffic backed up and more drivers honked. In the end, both drivers, shook their heads at each other, shrugged their shoulders and smiled as they drove off. I'm never quite sure how many lanes a road is in Italy. What would be considered a two lane road, becomes four or five lanes. A road that would have one way signs plastered all over it in America, is two lanes, with the drivers patiently pulling over to let the bigger vehicle past. Our bus driver let off a string of words as we tried to leave the chaotic Garibaldi Piazza. I have no idea of the content but I'm pretty sure it was curse words. Beautiful and entertaining to listen to though. On our return from Pompeii, we took a taxi so as not to get lost again on the streets of Pompeii at night. The taxi ride was death defying. A favorite moment was turning left from the right hand lane and darting through oncoming cars. We celebrated our brush with death and exhilaration at being alive by eating pizza. Pizza in Napoli is no ordinary pizza. It is amazing. It is so satisfying. It is not greasy. We got a simple margarhita pizza. The crust was gooey in the center, thin and crispy on the surrounding area and light and fluffy on the perimeter. The tomato sauce was so good and simple and the cheese was the supreme melted topping. Melissa and I sang "When the moon is as big as a big pizza pie, that's amore" Amore indeed.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Napoli Edition
Play an imaginary game of football in old Roman stadium. We won of course.
Dart through traffic
Snack in front of a priestess temple
Get wonderful directions from a cute old Italian man "Take a righta and thena lefta"
Listen to Italian road rage
Pompeii is located south of Napoli. We had originally planned to take a day trip from Rome but when we had difficulty getting a hostel room in Rome, we just decided to stay the night in Napoli or Naples. When we arrived in Napoli, we first made our way to the hostel to drop our backpacks. The sun was shinning and it was quite warm. We emerged from train station to the chaos that is Piazza Garibaldi and fairly representative of the city. Naples is known for being dirty, grimy and loud. It's almost like it says, "Yeah, I'm loud and ugly but I'm here and I'm proud, so listen to what I have to say and deal with it." And I will be most happy to listen to any city that invents pizza. I was intrigued by the reputation and after reading Elizabeth Gilbert's account of her pizza experience in "Eat, Pray, Love" I wanted to go. It was only after we had left the city that we read of its crime problem and that it had over 100 mafia related deaths in 2004. Melissa was a bit intimidated by the city but gamely boarded the train and when we finally arrived at the hostel, her eyes were as big as saucers. Mine were quite wide as well. Naples has a raw energy and feels a bit more like a third world nation. Laundry hangs from every balcony of dilapidated and crumbling buildings. A layer of grime covers the city. The harbor shows a life of hard work and long hours. People line the narrow sidewalks, eating pizza outside of small stands, standing on layers of cigarette butts and disgarded wrappers. Rapid Italian swirls around you. The sidewalks were littered with massive piles of trash surrounded by swarms of flies. We later found out that there was a trash strike. However, people seemed to be rather accepting of the mounds of refuse and simply carried on with life. We often had to venture into the road as our path was barricaded by trash, which was terrifying prospect. Vespas whizzed by. Cars honk their horns loudly as they zoom by. Traffic rules are more of a suggestion. I'm not sure that there are speed limits either. We actually saw one car cut another off at an intersection. Both cars stopped in the intersection and the drivers had a heated exchange in rapid Italian. Traffic backed up and more drivers honked. In the end, both drivers, shook their heads at each other, shrugged their shoulders and smiled as they drove off. I'm never quite sure how many lanes a road is in Italy. What would be considered a two lane road, becomes four or five lanes. A road that would have one way signs plastered all over it in America, is two lanes, with the drivers patiently pulling over to let the bigger vehicle past. Our bus driver let off a string of words as we tried to leave the chaotic Garibaldi Piazza. I have no idea of the content but I'm pretty sure it was curse words. Beautiful and entertaining to listen to though. On our return from Pompeii, we took a taxi so as not to get lost again on the streets of Pompeii at night. The taxi ride was death defying. A favorite moment was turning left from the right hand lane and darting through oncoming cars. We celebrated our brush with death and exhilaration at being alive by eating pizza. Pizza in Napoli is no ordinary pizza. It is amazing. It is so satisfying. It is not greasy. We got a simple margarhita pizza. The crust was gooey in the center, thin and crispy on the surrounding area and light and fluffy on the perimeter. The tomato sauce was so good and simple and the cheese was the supreme melted topping. Melissa and I sang "When the moon is as big as a big pizza pie, that's amore" Amore indeed.
Things I Did Not Expect When I Woke Up
Napoli Edition
Play an imaginary game of football in old Roman stadium. We won of course.
Dart through traffic
Snack in front of a priestess temple
Get wonderful directions from a cute old Italian man "Take a righta and thena lefta"
Listen to Italian road rage
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