Can't quite believe that it is now Thursday, 7 May! We have had an incredibly wonderful "jaunt" through England and Wales: 3 days in Winchester, where we visited the Norman Cathedral, the Great Hall (with the Round Table of King Arthur), and Chawton for Jane Austen's house; 2 days in Bath for more Austen and for the Roman baths and Gothic Bath Abbey; and Chepstow, Wales for Tintern Abbey, an ancient ruined castle, and lush Welsh countryside. Jen, Deena's friend from London, joined us there. We had a wonderful time together -- many laughs as we taught Jen the BS card game.
Now we are in York. Once a Celtic settlement that became in succession Roman, Anglo-Saxon, Viking, and finally Norman. The York Minster is larger than I remembered it -- and even more beautiful. Yesterday we went to Haworth, home of the Brontes. It was cloudy with spots of rain; looking over the moors, I could just imagine Heathcliff and Cathy walking the heather!
The highlight so far, though, has been reuniting with the family I lived with when I spent a summer here. Abbey played detective and found Malcom and Margaret's phone number. We have corresponded regularly but haven't spoken or seen each other for 37 years. They are all well, and I saw Sarah, their daughter who was 2 when I was here last, with her daughter, Tilly, who (as she put it) "used to be 3 but am now 4" in her lovely Yorkshire accent. She and Emma became buddies. After a visit at the home (I even remembered "my" bedroom), we had dinner at the local pub.
Today, Malcolm and Margaret are taking us to Scarborough -- one of my favorite places to go when I was here. There's now an aquarium there which Emma wants to visit, plus we'll see the castle. Late this afternoon, we will head to Stratford-upon-Avon to join Deena who is leaving for there this morning. Jen will be there with her 18-month old daughter, Zoe. No doubt another evening of laughter and fun.
I can't help but think how blessed we are with friends -- new and "old."
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Travels in France
Beaune, France in the Burgundy region is a delightful small city. Famous for being Burgundy's center of wine, it also has an interesting medieval hospital, Hotel-Dieu, that is now a social-history museum of medical practices, art, and life throughout the ages in Beaune. The weather was cooler than in Italy, but pleasant and sunny.
An exhausting day in getting to Beaune: on Thursday, we left Verona at 5:30 am to Milan where we caught a train to Chambery, France. We changed there to go to Lyon and finally, our last change -- to Beaune, arriving at 5 pm. We're getting to be experts at moving copious pieces of luggage from train to platform and platform to train. Most of the French stations have lifts, escalators, or ramps -- thank goodness. Once again, many people helped us, as we in turn helped others. Comfortable seats too on the SCNF system, something Trenitalia could offer!!!
Yesterday, we arrived in Caen, capital of Normandy. Enjoyed a wonderful dinner of mussels last night -- love being near the coast and seafood!! Today, we're off to encounter with a bit of history about WWII and a bit further back to William the Conqueror who was born here.
An exhausting day in getting to Beaune: on Thursday, we left Verona at 5:30 am to Milan where we caught a train to Chambery, France. We changed there to go to Lyon and finally, our last change -- to Beaune, arriving at 5 pm. We're getting to be experts at moving copious pieces of luggage from train to platform and platform to train. Most of the French stations have lifts, escalators, or ramps -- thank goodness. Once again, many people helped us, as we in turn helped others. Comfortable seats too on the SCNF system, something Trenitalia could offer!!!
Yesterday, we arrived in Caen, capital of Normandy. Enjoyed a wonderful dinner of mussels last night -- love being near the coast and seafood!! Today, we're off to encounter with a bit of history about WWII and a bit further back to William the Conqueror who was born here.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
It's not that we don't want to come home; we just don't want to leave.
Difficult as it is to believe, the time has come to leave Paderno. The students have gone as have most of the faculty. We have said goodby to the CIMBA staff with promises to return.
Deena arrived on Thursday, and despite some rainy weather, we have taken her to Bassano, Venice, Crespano market, and today -- Asolo and perhaps Mt. Grappa. The highlight for her was the trip to San Lorenzo, about 2 hours from here; her parents were born there. More on that adventure later!
Tomorrow, we head to Verona and show Deena that beautiful city's highlights. She will then take an overnight train to London to visit her friend Jen for 5 days while the girls and I will explore Beaune in Burgundy, France and Caen in Normandy, France. Next Monday, we'll ferry to Portsmouth and meet Deena in Winchester. Then, all too soon, back to the States.
Much to update on the blog, but it might have to wait for awhile.
Deena arrived on Thursday, and despite some rainy weather, we have taken her to Bassano, Venice, Crespano market, and today -- Asolo and perhaps Mt. Grappa. The highlight for her was the trip to San Lorenzo, about 2 hours from here; her parents were born there. More on that adventure later!
Tomorrow, we head to Verona and show Deena that beautiful city's highlights. She will then take an overnight train to London to visit her friend Jen for 5 days while the girls and I will explore Beaune in Burgundy, France and Caen in Normandy, France. Next Monday, we'll ferry to Portsmouth and meet Deena in Winchester. Then, all too soon, back to the States.
Much to update on the blog, but it might have to wait for awhile.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Bologna – and that’s no baloney.
6-8 March
Okay, a very bad pun inspired in part by a travel writer’s comment that the mortadella here in Bologna is as distanced from American bologna as a Porterhouse steak is from a hot dog. In fact, this city is renowned for its cuisine, which from my experience, well-deserves the recognition.
The first extended travel weekend of spring semester! Students were once-again bound for various destinations: Paris, Amsterdam, London, Rome, Interlaken, the Cinque Terre, and others. Abbey headed south with friends to once again visit Roma, while Emma and I stayed closer to home: Bologna. Located in the Emilia-Romagna region between the Veneto and Tuscany, Bologna is home to the oldest European university, established in 1088. If the cuisine is a feast for the taste buds, the architecture is a feast for the eyes. Offering its pedestrian residents and tourists arched porticos with marble or stone sidewalks to explore the many shops and sights, the city features a variety of architectural styles and materials: from Romanesque to Gothic, from crenellated walls of dark brick to grey stone blocks.
We had an early start on Friday morning to get Abbey and Eric to their 6:13 train to Rome, where they would meet up Tori and Daniella and other friends. Emma and I left them at Padua, as we caught another train to Bologna. Arriving a little after 9, we found the hotel and asked if we could leave our luggage while we began exploring the city. However, our room was ready, and we had the luxury of unwinding a bit from the 4:30 am start to the day.
First on Emma’s list: food. I am not sure where this wisp of a child puts it, but I’m happy that she is so eager to try the various dishes and not be the typically picky “mac and cheese” kid! We walked down Via dell’Indipendenza, the main street leading to Piazza Maggiore, and then headed toward the University area. Emma ducked down each little alleyway, or viccola, checking out a ristorante here or trattoria there. Success – a small restaurant with Italian-only menu catering to locals, many of whom were enjoying a long end-of-the-week lunch. Tough decision: too many excellent selections. I settled on penne arrabiata (a red sauce flavored with hot peppers); Emma picked a creamy tortellini dish. Magnifico! This arrabiata (translated as “angry”) sauce was slightly different than what I have had elsewhere. In Florence and Rome, it was much hotter or spicier; here, more of the tomato flavor came through. Always interesting to compare the dishes from one region to another.
After lunch, we headed to Palazzo Poggi, part of the University museums. Once a palace and residence of one (or more?) church officials, it now houses an odd assortment of science-related exhibits. A collection of plant drawings and wood carvings, tortoise shells, fossils, and more comprised the work of an early naturalist (whose name escapes me) who would influence Linneas and Darwin in their studies. He wanted to catalogue all living things; while perhaps impossible to do, he certainly made a valiant attempt judging from this collection! Other sights include an anatomical area, perhaps a nod to the University’s having the top medical school in Italy. Here were wax models of the human body to teach students about anatomy and others that feature various birthing positions and complications for midwives to study (some with rather gruesome depictions that promptly led Emma to inquiring about her own birth – sigh!). A collection of medical instruments nearby looked more like weapons to me! Yet another section had various demonstrations of reflective/refracted light with mirrors and prisms, something that to this day still confuses me, which is probably why I studied literature and not science!
The highlight was an impromptu tour of the astronomy tower. As Emma and I were looking at a model depicting 17th century theories of volcanoes and the earth’s core, a woman asked us if we wanted to see the tower. Her rapid Italian lost me, but she spoke French as well and got the message through. (I have quickly learned that a second or third language can become the common mode of communication!) Heading up the turret steps, we saw the Meridian Room with its older instruments to study the planets and stars; the Globe Room with its 17th century terrestrial and celestial globes as well as some 17th century maps from a Chinese laboratory; and the Turret Room, where the telescopes were placed for scientists to observe and record their findings. Though only a little over 200 steps, this tower is significantly shorter than the Asinelli Torre, the taller of Bologna’s two leaning towers. Nevertheless, the rooftop presented a wonderful view of the city and the countryside beyond. As we descended, the University student guide explained that in 1790 and in this spiral stairwell, the Bolognese astronomer Guglielmini provided the first evidence of earth’s rotation. While the Renaissance produced incredible visual art and literature, the Palazzo Poggi reminds us of the period’s contribution to science as well.
Emma picked the restaurant for dinner, naturally. Wonderful pasta dishes. I ended with coffe while Emma splurged on some dessert. Where does this child put it?
The rain that had dampened spirits as well as shoes all week had been giving way to merely cloudy weather with a few peeks of the sun on Friday. By Saturday, the sun and warm temperatures asserted themselves fully, and we had a lovely day for exploring more of Bologna. First stop was Piazza Maggiore, the center of town. Its 16th century fountain statue of Neptune, Fontana di Nettuno, draws tourists and is a convenient meeting place. The Piazza was alive with people enjoying the day. Music and puppet shows were popular with the children (and adults!), and many people sat around reading or talking, taking in the spring temperatures.
The Basilica di San Petronius is on the Piazza. Its facade is an interesting architectural mix. In the early 1500's, funding for it was diverted elsewhere, leaving the odd combination of marble on the bottom and brick on the top. Evidently, this political diversion was one of the many reasons that Martin Luther reacted with his 95 theses.
Enjoying the day, Emma and I explored the streets before we had lunch at Ristorante Montegrappa (so good that we booked reservations for dinner there). After a brief rest, we went back for dinner and met a German couple who spoke English to the waiter since he did not know German nor they Italian. English is widely spoken and for many Europeans, it’s their second language. My Italian is still not good, yet. I really need to practice.
We had thought to stay another day and take a quick trip to Rapallo, but Emma wanted to get back. This trip was the first that I had used the automated ticket machines – they work wonderfully well! Available in all the major Western languages, they enable travelers to bypass busy ticket windows and to purchase during off hours.
Late that night, Abbey got in from Rome, having had a wonderful time. We exchanged stories, yawned, and finally went to bed. I was glad I didn’t have class the next day!
Okay, a very bad pun inspired in part by a travel writer’s comment that the mortadella here in Bologna is as distanced from American bologna as a Porterhouse steak is from a hot dog. In fact, this city is renowned for its cuisine, which from my experience, well-deserves the recognition.
The first extended travel weekend of spring semester! Students were once-again bound for various destinations: Paris, Amsterdam, London, Rome, Interlaken, the Cinque Terre, and others. Abbey headed south with friends to once again visit Roma, while Emma and I stayed closer to home: Bologna. Located in the Emilia-Romagna region between the Veneto and Tuscany, Bologna is home to the oldest European university, established in 1088. If the cuisine is a feast for the taste buds, the architecture is a feast for the eyes. Offering its pedestrian residents and tourists arched porticos with marble or stone sidewalks to explore the many shops and sights, the city features a variety of architectural styles and materials: from Romanesque to Gothic, from crenellated walls of dark brick to grey stone blocks.
We had an early start on Friday morning to get Abbey and Eric to their 6:13 train to Rome, where they would meet up Tori and Daniella and other friends. Emma and I left them at Padua, as we caught another train to Bologna. Arriving a little after 9, we found the hotel and asked if we could leave our luggage while we began exploring the city. However, our room was ready, and we had the luxury of unwinding a bit from the 4:30 am start to the day.
First on Emma’s list: food. I am not sure where this wisp of a child puts it, but I’m happy that she is so eager to try the various dishes and not be the typically picky “mac and cheese” kid! We walked down Via dell’Indipendenza, the main street leading to Piazza Maggiore, and then headed toward the University area. Emma ducked down each little alleyway, or viccola, checking out a ristorante here or trattoria there. Success – a small restaurant with Italian-only menu catering to locals, many of whom were enjoying a long end-of-the-week lunch. Tough decision: too many excellent selections. I settled on penne arrabiata (a red sauce flavored with hot peppers); Emma picked a creamy tortellini dish. Magnifico! This arrabiata (translated as “angry”) sauce was slightly different than what I have had elsewhere. In Florence and Rome, it was much hotter or spicier; here, more of the tomato flavor came through. Always interesting to compare the dishes from one region to another.
After lunch, we headed to Palazzo Poggi, part of the University museums. Once a palace and residence of one (or more?) church officials, it now houses an odd assortment of science-related exhibits. A collection of plant drawings and wood carvings, tortoise shells, fossils, and more comprised the work of an early naturalist (whose name escapes me) who would influence Linneas and Darwin in their studies. He wanted to catalogue all living things; while perhaps impossible to do, he certainly made a valiant attempt judging from this collection! Other sights include an anatomical area, perhaps a nod to the University’s having the top medical school in Italy. Here were wax models of the human body to teach students about anatomy and others that feature various birthing positions and complications for midwives to study (some with rather gruesome depictions that promptly led Emma to inquiring about her own birth – sigh!). A collection of medical instruments nearby looked more like weapons to me! Yet another section had various demonstrations of reflective/refracted light with mirrors and prisms, something that to this day still confuses me, which is probably why I studied literature and not science!
The highlight was an impromptu tour of the astronomy tower. As Emma and I were looking at a model depicting 17th century theories of volcanoes and the earth’s core, a woman asked us if we wanted to see the tower. Her rapid Italian lost me, but she spoke French as well and got the message through. (I have quickly learned that a second or third language can become the common mode of communication!) Heading up the turret steps, we saw the Meridian Room with its older instruments to study the planets and stars; the Globe Room with its 17th century terrestrial and celestial globes as well as some 17th century maps from a Chinese laboratory; and the Turret Room, where the telescopes were placed for scientists to observe and record their findings. Though only a little over 200 steps, this tower is significantly shorter than the Asinelli Torre, the taller of Bologna’s two leaning towers. Nevertheless, the rooftop presented a wonderful view of the city and the countryside beyond. As we descended, the University student guide explained that in 1790 and in this spiral stairwell, the Bolognese astronomer Guglielmini provided the first evidence of earth’s rotation. While the Renaissance produced incredible visual art and literature, the Palazzo Poggi reminds us of the period’s contribution to science as well.
Emma picked the restaurant for dinner, naturally. Wonderful pasta dishes. I ended with coffe while Emma splurged on some dessert. Where does this child put it?
The rain that had dampened spirits as well as shoes all week had been giving way to merely cloudy weather with a few peeks of the sun on Friday. By Saturday, the sun and warm temperatures asserted themselves fully, and we had a lovely day for exploring more of Bologna. First stop was Piazza Maggiore, the center of town. Its 16th century fountain statue of Neptune, Fontana di Nettuno, draws tourists and is a convenient meeting place. The Piazza was alive with people enjoying the day. Music and puppet shows were popular with the children (and adults!), and many people sat around reading or talking, taking in the spring temperatures.
The Basilica di San Petronius is on the Piazza. Its facade is an interesting architectural mix. In the early 1500's, funding for it was diverted elsewhere, leaving the odd combination of marble on the bottom and brick on the top. Evidently, this political diversion was one of the many reasons that Martin Luther reacted with his 95 theses.
Enjoying the day, Emma and I explored the streets before we had lunch at Ristorante Montegrappa (so good that we booked reservations for dinner there). After a brief rest, we went back for dinner and met a German couple who spoke English to the waiter since he did not know German nor they Italian. English is widely spoken and for many Europeans, it’s their second language. My Italian is still not good, yet. I really need to practice.
We had thought to stay another day and take a quick trip to Rapallo, but Emma wanted to get back. This trip was the first that I had used the automated ticket machines – they work wonderfully well! Available in all the major Western languages, they enable travelers to bypass busy ticket windows and to purchase during off hours.
Late that night, Abbey got in from Rome, having had a wonderful time. We exchanged stories, yawned, and finally went to bed. I was glad I didn’t have class the next day!
Bolzano in Spring
10-12 April
Since we had packed up almost everything in the apartment, the walls were bare and depressing, and the book shelves were empty. Students were off on the last travel break, a 4-day weekend, and the campus was deserted. Abbey, Emma, and I decided that we too needed to get away. While excited to see family, friends, and pets again, we find ourselves having a very difficult time preparing to say good-bye to Italy. We contemplated a number of inexpensive options – a road trip seemed good, and we settled on returning to Bolzano to enjoy it in spring. Abbey had not been here yet as she was in Switzerland when we came the end of November for the Christkindlmarkt. Emma was psyched since many of the hotels have spa facilities; Bolzano is near Gries, a famous spa town. We booked a two-night stay at Hotel Eberle which offered free whirlpool, Turkish steam bath, and sauna to its guests. The extras such as massages were tempting, but the budget didn’t allow for that. We picked a good time: rates were lower than usual as we were in-between the winter season (skiing) and summer season (hiking).
I printed out the driving directions, highlighting the key turns to get us to Hotel Eberle, which sits above the city, a quarter of the way up one of the mountains. The drive up was beautiful. We made it to Trento in about an hour and a half, navigated a rather tricky entrance onto the Italian autostrade, the A22, and 30 minutes later, we were entering Bolzano. All in all, we did well, with Abbey navigating very proficiently – only one wrong turn because of unmarked streets. Well, okay, two wrong turns if we count the adventure on the switchback road headed up toward one of the Dolomite peaks. The road from downtown Bolzano to the hotel made Asolo’s narrow streets seem like a major highway. Not only were they narrow (we carefully watched the mirrors and door handles in places), but they were also steep. At a couple of points, I began wondering about the angle and how close it was to 90 degrees. At what point will a car tip backward? Several sharp turns and extremely steep inclines later, we arrived. As I parked the car, I told Abbey and Emma that it was going to sit there until we had to leave. I don’t recall any arguments from them.
After checking in to a lovely room with a south-facing balcony over the city and beds with those incredible down comforters, we had some lunch. Grilled vegetables with melted cheese for me; risotto with fresh white and green asparagus for Abbey; and spaghetti with clam sauce for Emma. The house red wine, St. Magdalena, is lovely. Hotel Eberle has its own vineyards and herb gardens and sells the products to hotel guests and locals.
After lunch, we went on a 3-hour hike, and the path began at the hotel. We hiked up and down, then mostly down to Castel Roncolo, or Schloss Runkelstein in German. Bolzano is in the Alto-Adige or Sud-Tirol region of Italy. After WWI, it officially became a part of Italy; however, the Austrian-German culture remained strong. People speak both Italian and German here; the signage is bi-lingual as are schools. Bolzano is an old town, and, before the region was an official part of any country, it was dual-natured. In the Medieval period, it was a trading town, a mid-way point for what are now Italians and German-Austrians to meet fo exchange goods. While many people embrace the duality, some do not. I’ve noticed that those of German heritage tend to look down on those of Italian heritage. Also, the Italians were much friendlier and warmer than the Germans, who were always polite to us but rather distant.
Back to the Runklestein Castle (as it is known in English): We paid our fee, and as typical, the Italian-speaking staff let Emma go in free. (Italians love children and despite age classifications for tickets, they usually let any child younger than a mid-teen in free.) According to the brochure, it was built in 1237 and was home to rich Bolzano merchants. They were not royalty or noble; however, the Castle is famous for its incredible frescoes which are over 600 years old. They tell romance stories of Tristan and Isolde and of Arthur and Guinivere. While some have been damaged from weather, most are in incredible condition.
After the brief visit, we had some refreshments and set out to climb up and then climb down along the hiking path. I realized then how out of shape I had become over the winter. The trail was beautiful, though. We encountered frisky Italian Wall lizards; a rather impressive bee hive (whose owner was checking on it as we came back); spring flowers – including lilacs, wisteria, tulips, and iris; and vistas of nature that refreshed my soul in so many ways.
Back at the hotel, we donned our swim suits. “Never travel without one,” says Bill Buckley. Abbey reminded us of that before we left! We did the whirlpool, sunned a bit on the terrace, hit the Turkish steam room, whirlpooled some more. Ahhhhh. Herbal teas and sparkling/nature water were available. Luxury. As we enjoyed the hydro-therapy of the whirlpool, we took in the view of vineyards and farms on the smaller mountains and the snow-capped Dolomites above. Incredible.
We headed for dinner at 8 or 8:30 and decided to eat inside as the breezes had become chilly. Emma, the bottom-less pit, had entrecote (steak); Abbey had a tomato-mozzarella calzone; and I had a house specialty of white asparagus with some herbed potatoes and “Bolzano sauce” on the side. Bolzano sauce has chopped hard-boiled egg in a light mayonnaise sauce, but is not as rich or thick as an egg salad mixture that Americans are familiar with. We slept well!
Saturday, we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast and walked the ½ mile down into town; only problem was remembering that we had to walk UP to get back to the hotel. Piazza Walther was bustling with people. The warm, sunny day brought everyone out. Wisteria, lilacs, tulips – everything is in bloom. We spend most of the day strolling around town, visiting some stores of course, and looking inside the Duomo that was closed when Tim, Emma, and I were last here. A highlight on the piazza was an exhibition of photographs on billboard-displays that were about 3 x 6 feet in dimension. We had a blast taking pictures of us by them, pretending we were in the scenes.
The hike back reaffirmed my out-of-condition state, but I consoled my muscles with a long soak in the whirlpool and the Turkish steam room. We all enjoyed unwinding in the warm sun. Another wonderful dinner and fairly early bedtime – LOVE those down comforters!!!
Easter Sunday was warm and sunny, and after breakfast, I enjoyed hearing the church bells from many mountain churches as well as those in the valley. Perhaps they were timed with one another; perhaps, it was just coincidence. But the chimes and tolling seemed in harmony with one another, one answering the other.
We could have stayed another day, but work at home required that we leave. PDG had the same warm weather; we opened windows and let in the fresh air. It was good to be home again.
Since we had packed up almost everything in the apartment, the walls were bare and depressing, and the book shelves were empty. Students were off on the last travel break, a 4-day weekend, and the campus was deserted. Abbey, Emma, and I decided that we too needed to get away. While excited to see family, friends, and pets again, we find ourselves having a very difficult time preparing to say good-bye to Italy. We contemplated a number of inexpensive options – a road trip seemed good, and we settled on returning to Bolzano to enjoy it in spring. Abbey had not been here yet as she was in Switzerland when we came the end of November for the Christkindlmarkt. Emma was psyched since many of the hotels have spa facilities; Bolzano is near Gries, a famous spa town. We booked a two-night stay at Hotel Eberle which offered free whirlpool, Turkish steam bath, and sauna to its guests. The extras such as massages were tempting, but the budget didn’t allow for that. We picked a good time: rates were lower than usual as we were in-between the winter season (skiing) and summer season (hiking).
I printed out the driving directions, highlighting the key turns to get us to Hotel Eberle, which sits above the city, a quarter of the way up one of the mountains. The drive up was beautiful. We made it to Trento in about an hour and a half, navigated a rather tricky entrance onto the Italian autostrade, the A22, and 30 minutes later, we were entering Bolzano. All in all, we did well, with Abbey navigating very proficiently – only one wrong turn because of unmarked streets. Well, okay, two wrong turns if we count the adventure on the switchback road headed up toward one of the Dolomite peaks. The road from downtown Bolzano to the hotel made Asolo’s narrow streets seem like a major highway. Not only were they narrow (we carefully watched the mirrors and door handles in places), but they were also steep. At a couple of points, I began wondering about the angle and how close it was to 90 degrees. At what point will a car tip backward? Several sharp turns and extremely steep inclines later, we arrived. As I parked the car, I told Abbey and Emma that it was going to sit there until we had to leave. I don’t recall any arguments from them.
After checking in to a lovely room with a south-facing balcony over the city and beds with those incredible down comforters, we had some lunch. Grilled vegetables with melted cheese for me; risotto with fresh white and green asparagus for Abbey; and spaghetti with clam sauce for Emma. The house red wine, St. Magdalena, is lovely. Hotel Eberle has its own vineyards and herb gardens and sells the products to hotel guests and locals.
After lunch, we went on a 3-hour hike, and the path began at the hotel. We hiked up and down, then mostly down to Castel Roncolo, or Schloss Runkelstein in German. Bolzano is in the Alto-Adige or Sud-Tirol region of Italy. After WWI, it officially became a part of Italy; however, the Austrian-German culture remained strong. People speak both Italian and German here; the signage is bi-lingual as are schools. Bolzano is an old town, and, before the region was an official part of any country, it was dual-natured. In the Medieval period, it was a trading town, a mid-way point for what are now Italians and German-Austrians to meet fo exchange goods. While many people embrace the duality, some do not. I’ve noticed that those of German heritage tend to look down on those of Italian heritage. Also, the Italians were much friendlier and warmer than the Germans, who were always polite to us but rather distant.
Back to the Runklestein Castle (as it is known in English): We paid our fee, and as typical, the Italian-speaking staff let Emma go in free. (Italians love children and despite age classifications for tickets, they usually let any child younger than a mid-teen in free.) According to the brochure, it was built in 1237 and was home to rich Bolzano merchants. They were not royalty or noble; however, the Castle is famous for its incredible frescoes which are over 600 years old. They tell romance stories of Tristan and Isolde and of Arthur and Guinivere. While some have been damaged from weather, most are in incredible condition.
After the brief visit, we had some refreshments and set out to climb up and then climb down along the hiking path. I realized then how out of shape I had become over the winter. The trail was beautiful, though. We encountered frisky Italian Wall lizards; a rather impressive bee hive (whose owner was checking on it as we came back); spring flowers – including lilacs, wisteria, tulips, and iris; and vistas of nature that refreshed my soul in so many ways.
Back at the hotel, we donned our swim suits. “Never travel without one,” says Bill Buckley. Abbey reminded us of that before we left! We did the whirlpool, sunned a bit on the terrace, hit the Turkish steam room, whirlpooled some more. Ahhhhh. Herbal teas and sparkling/nature water were available. Luxury. As we enjoyed the hydro-therapy of the whirlpool, we took in the view of vineyards and farms on the smaller mountains and the snow-capped Dolomites above. Incredible.
We headed for dinner at 8 or 8:30 and decided to eat inside as the breezes had become chilly. Emma, the bottom-less pit, had entrecote (steak); Abbey had a tomato-mozzarella calzone; and I had a house specialty of white asparagus with some herbed potatoes and “Bolzano sauce” on the side. Bolzano sauce has chopped hard-boiled egg in a light mayonnaise sauce, but is not as rich or thick as an egg salad mixture that Americans are familiar with. We slept well!
Saturday, we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast and walked the ½ mile down into town; only problem was remembering that we had to walk UP to get back to the hotel. Piazza Walther was bustling with people. The warm, sunny day brought everyone out. Wisteria, lilacs, tulips – everything is in bloom. We spend most of the day strolling around town, visiting some stores of course, and looking inside the Duomo that was closed when Tim, Emma, and I were last here. A highlight on the piazza was an exhibition of photographs on billboard-displays that were about 3 x 6 feet in dimension. We had a blast taking pictures of us by them, pretending we were in the scenes.
The hike back reaffirmed my out-of-condition state, but I consoled my muscles with a long soak in the whirlpool and the Turkish steam room. We all enjoyed unwinding in the warm sun. Another wonderful dinner and fairly early bedtime – LOVE those down comforters!!!
Easter Sunday was warm and sunny, and after breakfast, I enjoyed hearing the church bells from many mountain churches as well as those in the valley. Perhaps they were timed with one another; perhaps, it was just coincidence. But the chimes and tolling seemed in harmony with one another, one answering the other.
We could have stayed another day, but work at home required that we leave. PDG had the same warm weather; we opened windows and let in the fresh air. It was good to be home again.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
CIMBA Blog -- Updates on Campus Life, Week 10
Spring is here in the Veneto. Though nights are often chilly, the sun warms the afternoons. Fruit trees are blooming as are spring flowers. Mt. Grappa is still snow-covered at the top, but below the tree line, green gradually emerges. Looking out our kitchen/dining room window, I see a neighbor work his garden patch in preparation for planting. I remember how full and bountiful it was last fall. Everyday, he was tending it diligently; with his work now, I am certain this year the garden will be as productive. Yesterday, he had it roto-tilled. I watched as the men, both of whom are probably in their late 60's, begin the process. Despite the handwork to turn over the ground, the roto-tiller caught several times, but working together, the men finished quite quickly, and the soil is now smooth and ready for planting. I’ll have to check today to see what is next. Tim was asking about him and the garden the other day; we both enjoyed watching the progress last fall.
It is travel week 2 this week. By late Friday, most of the students had left for various places; some planned to leave early Saturday, though we met Jonathan Holmes at the Sunday market. He was leaving for Palermo on Monday. Originally we had planned to go to Switzerland this week. However, a re-evaluation of the budget revealed that, with our France, England, and Wales tour at semester end, we should postpone expensive Switzerland for another time. Also, I looked at the stack of reports and other assignments on my desk, the uncompleted itinerary for France and the UK with Deena, and the dust bunnies no longer contained in the apartment’s corners – best to stay put, get work done, and tour locally. After all, the Veneto is a beautiful, diverse region – and spring is here.
Abbey, Emma, and I are also getting ready for Tim to visit. Emma has been e-mailing him lists of what to bring over, though I remind her that what comes here must go back, and with our 3-week trip through France and the UK before heading back to the States, she might want to consider luggage weight. Memories of our lugging 7 checked-in bags and 8 carry-on’s back in August quickly come to mind. “Lugging” – an appropriate term, no doubt from the word “luggage.” Yes, 15 bags in total we had. I don’t care what Rick Steves says; it is IMPOSSIBLE to pack for nine months of living abroad in a small carry-on, especially with school books. Nevertheless, traveling light is best. What we don’t need for our last few weeks here will go back with Tim or be shipped from the local post office. We will have to get organized and packed up to know what to send. Well, as Scarlet O’Hara would say, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” Besides, it’s a warm, sunny day – and spring is here!
It is travel week 2 this week. By late Friday, most of the students had left for various places; some planned to leave early Saturday, though we met Jonathan Holmes at the Sunday market. He was leaving for Palermo on Monday. Originally we had planned to go to Switzerland this week. However, a re-evaluation of the budget revealed that, with our France, England, and Wales tour at semester end, we should postpone expensive Switzerland for another time. Also, I looked at the stack of reports and other assignments on my desk, the uncompleted itinerary for France and the UK with Deena, and the dust bunnies no longer contained in the apartment’s corners – best to stay put, get work done, and tour locally. After all, the Veneto is a beautiful, diverse region – and spring is here.
Abbey, Emma, and I are also getting ready for Tim to visit. Emma has been e-mailing him lists of what to bring over, though I remind her that what comes here must go back, and with our 3-week trip through France and the UK before heading back to the States, she might want to consider luggage weight. Memories of our lugging 7 checked-in bags and 8 carry-on’s back in August quickly come to mind. “Lugging” – an appropriate term, no doubt from the word “luggage.” Yes, 15 bags in total we had. I don’t care what Rick Steves says; it is IMPOSSIBLE to pack for nine months of living abroad in a small carry-on, especially with school books. Nevertheless, traveling light is best. What we don’t need for our last few weeks here will go back with Tim or be shipped from the local post office. We will have to get organized and packed up to know what to send. Well, as Scarlet O’Hara would say, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” Besides, it’s a warm, sunny day – and spring is here!
CIMBA Blog -- Updates on Campus Life, Week 9
This week the Intercultural Communications students are presenting (via slides) a comparison/contrast of Italian and American culture. Each student selected a topic and researched the differences and similarities between the two countries. Topics include government, sports, music, weddings, cuisine, nightlife, education, business, etiquette, fashion, holidays, television, immigration, and gender. It is often surprising what one learns by paying attention to the “everyday” aspects of life. As with other assignments for the course, this one too prompts discussion based on not only the researched information but also the personal experience of living in another country.
Because the CIMBA experience recognizes the importance of learning outside as well as in the classroom, the directors and staff arrange tours of local companies; students are assigned to a tour based in part on their major. Business students usually visit a manufacturing or service company; communications and journalism students, organizations related to their fields. Ted Fredrickson, journalism professor, and I went with our group to Rete Venete, a television station in nearby Bassano del Grappa. I had the pleasure of visiting there last semester as well. We learned much about the television business from our tour and coupled with Alex Dufek’s report in class comparing and contrasting the industry in Italy and the States. Some of the interesting highlights: reporters work closely with police and other municipal departments for local news; the newscast lasts only 20 minutes, so concise writing is necessary; and while reporters are both male and female, only women are anchors for this station. The latter point, unfortunately, does not reflect a progressive step toward gender equity but a marketing decision based on the attractiveness of the women.
Our tour was scheduled for 11:00 in the morning, but we left earlier to explore the Thursday market in Bassano, always a treat. Though many of the students had been to this lovely city to catch a train, few of them had explored the town with its famous covered bridge designed by Andrea Palladio. The views from the bridge of the Brenta River and the Dolomites with Mt. Grappa in the background produced “ooo’s” and “aaaah’s.” Everyone dove for the cameras and positioned each other on the bridge; the local passer-bys were indulgent as always
Another highlight of this week was Gourmet Dinner 2. Between the end of the last class (4:45) and the 7:15 meeting time, much primping occurred, and based on everyone’s looks, both males and females primped. Many of the guys sported new suits, thanks to Al Ringleb and Cristina Turchett who drove them to a local store for beautifully tailored Italian suits at good prices. Aperitifs were outside under a canopy in the ristorante’s courtyard; dinner was in a spacious, warm dining room and was served just as a tremendous thunderstorm rolled in. Even with the noise of over 150 people’s conversations, we heard the booms and the rain pelting against the windows. No matter; we enjoyed tasty grilled vegetables, saffron risotto, roasted meat, and then dolci with chocolate sauce.
Because the CIMBA experience recognizes the importance of learning outside as well as in the classroom, the directors and staff arrange tours of local companies; students are assigned to a tour based in part on their major. Business students usually visit a manufacturing or service company; communications and journalism students, organizations related to their fields. Ted Fredrickson, journalism professor, and I went with our group to Rete Venete, a television station in nearby Bassano del Grappa. I had the pleasure of visiting there last semester as well. We learned much about the television business from our tour and coupled with Alex Dufek’s report in class comparing and contrasting the industry in Italy and the States. Some of the interesting highlights: reporters work closely with police and other municipal departments for local news; the newscast lasts only 20 minutes, so concise writing is necessary; and while reporters are both male and female, only women are anchors for this station. The latter point, unfortunately, does not reflect a progressive step toward gender equity but a marketing decision based on the attractiveness of the women.
Our tour was scheduled for 11:00 in the morning, but we left earlier to explore the Thursday market in Bassano, always a treat. Though many of the students had been to this lovely city to catch a train, few of them had explored the town with its famous covered bridge designed by Andrea Palladio. The views from the bridge of the Brenta River and the Dolomites with Mt. Grappa in the background produced “ooo’s” and “aaaah’s.” Everyone dove for the cameras and positioned each other on the bridge; the local passer-bys were indulgent as always
Another highlight of this week was Gourmet Dinner 2. Between the end of the last class (4:45) and the 7:15 meeting time, much primping occurred, and based on everyone’s looks, both males and females primped. Many of the guys sported new suits, thanks to Al Ringleb and Cristina Turchett who drove them to a local store for beautifully tailored Italian suits at good prices. Aperitifs were outside under a canopy in the ristorante’s courtyard; dinner was in a spacious, warm dining room and was served just as a tremendous thunderstorm rolled in. Even with the noise of over 150 people’s conversations, we heard the booms and the rain pelting against the windows. No matter; we enjoyed tasty grilled vegetables, saffron risotto, roasted meat, and then dolci with chocolate sauce.
CIMBA Blog -- Updates on Campus Life, Week 6
January, February, and March are popular months at CIMBA for birthdays. Not only Abbey and Emma, but also Jessica Carrese, Tori Scheidt, Meaghan Hinder, Tommy Thompson, Matt Hanrahan, Marta Crabbia, Stephanie Herr, Graham Ryan, Kristina Rood, Kelly Heesch most of them in February. Who else am I forgetting? There were several more, surely. Anyway, we celebrated a few with “Happy Birthday’s” sung (usually in multiple keys at once) in classes or at lunch. Some we celebrated at the local pizzeria, Al Sole. Luigini, who owns it with her husband Fabbio, graciously lets us use a side room for larger get-togethers that we can decorate with balloons and Buon Compleanno (happy birthday) banners.
Other activities included advisory nights. Each professor has about 14 students assigned to him or her, students who aren’t in the professor’s courses. The idea is to get different groups together to socialize and for teachers to know more students than those in their classes. On Wednesday, 3 March, my advisory group met for a night of pizza making in Asolo. There were 12 of us: Ali Bronska, Rachel Butler, Colleen Carlsen, Dan Cassis, Nate Danner, Amy Daughtery, Dana Dietrich, Ryan Driscoll, Matt Duncan, Cody Hutchison, Kathyrn Kolakowski, and Will Wilhite. Tess Montano, an MBA student at the Asolo campus, met us there to kindly translate for us.) Saverio, well-known for his pizza, opened his doors early for us to come and learn the art of good pizza and to experience making our own. Always a treat, this outing reveals the secret of Italian pizza: well-made dough; good, fresh topping ingredients; and an extremely hot wood-fired oven. The weather is a factor with dough, Saverio explains, as Tess translates. If the weather is damp, use less water with the flour, yeast, and salt; if it is dry, use more. He can form the dough in less than a minute, and no, tossing it up in the air is not an approved Italian method. Although the baking time depends on the toppings and the number of pizzas, most pizzas are ready in 3 minutes.
As students begin to make their own pizza, Angelo, one of the waiters, comes in. He adores Tess and remembers me from last semester. He pours us drinks while we watch the first three brave souls begin. “No, no, no,” exclaims Saverio, as he takes the dough and again shows how to spread it out without ripping it. After deliberating over topping choices, the first group has pizzas in the oven, and the next three go. We laugh at the “No, no, no” as these students too find that spreading the dough looks much easier than it is. Now, I have done this before, so one would think I’d have it down pat. But no, pizza making is not in my future. Saverio laughingly rolls his eyes at me, while Angelo just broadly smiles. No matter, my pizza comes out perfectly – and shaped into a heart, a finishing touch that Saverio does for all the women in the group. The men have the basic round shape!
Lest some of you think that all is fun and travel here, I can reassure you that the weeks between travel, advisory nights, and birthdays are packed with work. My Intercultural students have been reading Frances Mayes’ memoir, Under the Tuscan Sun. Although too young to yet appreciate Mayes’ recounting the frustrating but often rewarding efforts involved in renovating a home, they do understand the cultural experiences of living in another country. Sharing situations ranging from the humorous to the embarrassing in class, we examine the what’s and why’s of culture and the how’s of its being communicated. To name a few such occasions noted in class:
• being hushed at an opera in Vienna;
• having an unfranked ticket checked by a compassionate Trenitalia conductor who got off the next stop just to frank the ticket;
• having an unfranked ticket checked by a grumpy Trenitalia conductor who wrote out a fine;
• reaching the correct train stop with the aid of an Italian who missed her own stop to help;
• experiencing shocked looks by a store clerk at your friendly “okay” hand gesture which does not signify “okay” in Italy.
In Business Communications, students have been working on profile reports of European-based organizations. Some are well-recognized, such as IKEA, Lindt, AC-Milan, Ferrero, BMW, Nestlé, Replay. Many are still family-run and managed, and some have local roots, such as Asolo-based Replay. With presentations ranging from chocolate to cars, shoes to soccer, we learned much about these companies and cultural elements of their business practices.
The library and computer lab are packed at night with students studying for exams and researching for projects. I go to campus at night sometimes to finish class prep that requires internet access and quietly observe. Some students collaborate on a case study or presentation at one of the large library tables; others patiently (or not!) wait in the lab for the internet to connect them to their home institution’s library databases; still others put finishing touches to a report or essay, hoping that the printer will cooperate one more time. Fun and travel, yes, but also much learning happens here, hands-on experiential learning that remains long after the exam or submitted paper is completed.
Other activities included advisory nights. Each professor has about 14 students assigned to him or her, students who aren’t in the professor’s courses. The idea is to get different groups together to socialize and for teachers to know more students than those in their classes. On Wednesday, 3 March, my advisory group met for a night of pizza making in Asolo. There were 12 of us: Ali Bronska, Rachel Butler, Colleen Carlsen, Dan Cassis, Nate Danner, Amy Daughtery, Dana Dietrich, Ryan Driscoll, Matt Duncan, Cody Hutchison, Kathyrn Kolakowski, and Will Wilhite. Tess Montano, an MBA student at the Asolo campus, met us there to kindly translate for us.) Saverio, well-known for his pizza, opened his doors early for us to come and learn the art of good pizza and to experience making our own. Always a treat, this outing reveals the secret of Italian pizza: well-made dough; good, fresh topping ingredients; and an extremely hot wood-fired oven. The weather is a factor with dough, Saverio explains, as Tess translates. If the weather is damp, use less water with the flour, yeast, and salt; if it is dry, use more. He can form the dough in less than a minute, and no, tossing it up in the air is not an approved Italian method. Although the baking time depends on the toppings and the number of pizzas, most pizzas are ready in 3 minutes.
As students begin to make their own pizza, Angelo, one of the waiters, comes in. He adores Tess and remembers me from last semester. He pours us drinks while we watch the first three brave souls begin. “No, no, no,” exclaims Saverio, as he takes the dough and again shows how to spread it out without ripping it. After deliberating over topping choices, the first group has pizzas in the oven, and the next three go. We laugh at the “No, no, no” as these students too find that spreading the dough looks much easier than it is. Now, I have done this before, so one would think I’d have it down pat. But no, pizza making is not in my future. Saverio laughingly rolls his eyes at me, while Angelo just broadly smiles. No matter, my pizza comes out perfectly – and shaped into a heart, a finishing touch that Saverio does for all the women in the group. The men have the basic round shape!
Lest some of you think that all is fun and travel here, I can reassure you that the weeks between travel, advisory nights, and birthdays are packed with work. My Intercultural students have been reading Frances Mayes’ memoir, Under the Tuscan Sun. Although too young to yet appreciate Mayes’ recounting the frustrating but often rewarding efforts involved in renovating a home, they do understand the cultural experiences of living in another country. Sharing situations ranging from the humorous to the embarrassing in class, we examine the what’s and why’s of culture and the how’s of its being communicated. To name a few such occasions noted in class:
• being hushed at an opera in Vienna;
• having an unfranked ticket checked by a compassionate Trenitalia conductor who got off the next stop just to frank the ticket;
• having an unfranked ticket checked by a grumpy Trenitalia conductor who wrote out a fine;
• reaching the correct train stop with the aid of an Italian who missed her own stop to help;
• experiencing shocked looks by a store clerk at your friendly “okay” hand gesture which does not signify “okay” in Italy.
In Business Communications, students have been working on profile reports of European-based organizations. Some are well-recognized, such as IKEA, Lindt, AC-Milan, Ferrero, BMW, Nestlé, Replay. Many are still family-run and managed, and some have local roots, such as Asolo-based Replay. With presentations ranging from chocolate to cars, shoes to soccer, we learned much about these companies and cultural elements of their business practices.
The library and computer lab are packed at night with students studying for exams and researching for projects. I go to campus at night sometimes to finish class prep that requires internet access and quietly observe. Some students collaborate on a case study or presentation at one of the large library tables; others patiently (or not!) wait in the lab for the internet to connect them to their home institution’s library databases; still others put finishing touches to a report or essay, hoping that the printer will cooperate one more time. Fun and travel, yes, but also much learning happens here, hands-on experiential learning that remains long after the exam or submitted paper is completed.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Lucca & Pisa, Tuscany
Not a travel weekend, nevertheless the wanderlust struck, and I definitely wanted to visit Lucca and Pisa before we left Italy. Besides, with spring fever hitting me, I felt the need to go south, and what better place at this time than Tuscany. Friday, 13 March (yes, I know – the 13th!!), Emma and I headed toward Castelfranco to catch the train to Padua and then to Prato and finally to Lucca. Abbey was assistant trainer for the LIFE executive program for the weekend, so it was just the two of us.
Not having made the ticket reservations beforehand as I usually do, I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to make the connections. However, the automated ticket machines proved quite easy to use for the regional trains. The friendly Trenitalia ticket man quickly booked us the IC (InnerCity) from Padua to Prato and saved us money by recommending a different Eurostar from Florence to Padua on our return. As a result, we enjoyed a 50% discount!! He has waited on me several times and is always pleasant, remembering always the previous bookings he has made for us.
Other than a fast connect at Prato Centrale for Lucca (Emma afraid that I wasn’t going to get on the train in time), we had an uneventful trip, arriving in Lucca about 1:30. Spring was definitely here. In the Veneto, traces can be seen with crocuses, daffodils, forsythia, and early blooming fruit trees; however, the magnolias and early summer flowers are visible everywhere in this part of Tuscany. The air smelled like spring – fresh, clean, warm.
Emma and I went first to the TI (Tourist Information) by the train station for a city map, and the man gave us a lot of information about sights to see and events. Breakfast having been a so-so sandwich on the train, we stopped at a pleasant caffe/ristorante just inside the city walls. The weather was warm and sunny, so we were able to enjoy eating outside. Emma had one of her favorits, penne all’arrabiata (red sauce with pepperocini), and I had fresh salad with grilled vegetables. Afterward, we made our way to Piazza Napolean (he was here in Lucca too!!!) and Piazza San Michele, turning onto Via Roma and then onto Via Cenami to our hotel, Al Tuscany, a bed & breakfast.
Isabella, the afternoon staff person, greeted us and showed us to our room – complete with a kitchenette. Because the building the hotel was in was undergoing renovations, we had a back room that was quiet and roomy. Emma and I quickly settled in, and then we began exploring this delightful town, scouting out restaurants for dinner. Frances Mayes is right: in Italy, one is no more through with lunch than he or she is already contemplating dinner!!
Lucca is charming. About the size of Siena and as old, it has less the Medieval characteristics that Siena has. Or perhaps, those characteristics are defined differently because of geography. Both are walled cities – with walls intact. Both are old cities, with ties to the Roman era and before. However, while hilltop Siena’s steep grades to keep those leg muscles in shape and has retained its somber, grey architecture in true Medieval fashion, Lucca’s streets undulate and its impressive buildings complement the many budding gardens within the city walls. Siena seems to enclose itself, separated from the Tuscan countryside; Lucca embraces the gentle green hills that slope westward towards the sea and eastward towards Florence. I loved both cities, so I suspect my appreciation for Lucca was connected in part to spring fever.
The Guinigi family who put Lucca on the Renaissance map with the silk industry evidently loved gardens. Even their tower rooftop features a garden with full-sized trees. The walls of the city are wide, about 3 miles around. To ensure enemies were unable to camouflage themselves, the Luccans cleared several hundred feet of brush and trees. Today, this immense circular green serves as a field for hikers and pet owners. The wall also features arrow-shaped jut-outs, that once were for weapons and defense and now provide locals and tourists with glorious views. On this warm Friday afternoon, Emma and I enjoyed a walk on the ramparts with spring-filled Tuscan hills and plains on one side and terra-cotta Luccan rooftops on the other.
We found small pizzeria-ristorante for dinner, deciding to bypass the more expensive trattorias. Chiana beef is popular here; remembering how exquisite it was in Cortona, I ordered the taglia al rucola (rare sliced beef on arugula with garlic and olive oil). Emma opted for a hearty Tuscan soup, much like the ribollita of Siena – a vegetable soup with chunks of bread. Back at the hotel, we read for a bit – Emma with Mathilda and Diary of a Wimpy Kid; I with Bella Tuscany.
Saturday was another beautiful day – perfect for the antique market in Lucca’s streets. Like most markets, there was the usual “junk”; however, the antique markets also draw some vendors with quality merchandise. I saw many things that I would love to have – but no way to transport them. Lucky for the checkbook!
We found San Giovanni church, where the Puccini concert is held every evening at 7:00. Our hotel provided us with complimentary tickets, so we decided to do the concert tonight. Then on to the Duomo, San Martino, an incredibly big, beautiful church. Because it is being renovated, inside and out, the scaffolding and curtains discouraged picture takers, so I bought a postcard depicting what the church looks like “normally.”
After San Martino, we walked to Torre Guinigi, the Guinigi family’s tower. Rather than castles, many of the wealthy, powerful people of the late Medieval and early Renaissance periods built towers as residence; these were, essentially rooms upon rooms with the stairs connecting them. The Torre Guinigi is not particularly tall; however, its 270+ steps certainly provide exercise. Can you imagine just going out the front door to discover you’d left something on the top floor?? Most of the tower’s steps were the original stone, but towards the top, steel risers had been installed. Quite a few frescoes still remain, particularly on the lower levels, as does a huge fireplace, perhaps one that was used for cooking. The highlight, however, is the rooftop garden, complete with two tall trees. The view of Lucca and its environs are beautiful from there, especially the wall.
Time for lunch, which again, we enjoyed outside. Then bike riding on the ramparts! The flat top of the wide walls is easily accessible from the several porti, or gates into the city. It’s a local favorite for joggers, walkers, and bikers – and obviously a draw for tourists as well, particularly on such a beautiful day. Nearly 3 miles around, the 16th century walls offer shady tree-lined areas and warm, sunny picnic spots on the 8 or so arrow-shaped jut-outs. After 2 times around, Emma and I regained some strength with a gelatto break, and then did another go-around before returning our bikes.
Perhaps the highlight of the day was the Puccini concert. Lucca is the composer’s birthplace, and his house is a small museum that contains among other items the piano that he used to compose Turandot, one of his famous operas. Sadly, the museum is temporarily closed; evidently some family dispute with either the city or among themselves. Anyway, the city celebrates Puccini with a nightly concert in San Giovanni church, featuring arias from his works plus selections from other composers such as Mozart, Verdi, and Mascagni. A soprano and a tenor were the soloists this evening, and the pianist was the music director. The soprano was incredible; she was French, although most of the performers are Italian singers, all of whom are professional. Her voice was strong and full but with a rich clarity that prevented any heaviness in tone some sopranos have. One of the numbers was “O mio babbino caro” from Gianni Schicchi, one of the songs that Abbey does; also songs from La Traviata and La Boheme.
Next morning after breakfast – off to Pisa, about 20-minute train ride. Again I panicked Emma inadvertently by getting off the train at the 1st Pisa station (which would have been alright) instead of Centrale (main station); I barely made it back on the train. Since it was Sunday, no TI was open for a full map of the town, I was glad to have brought the Rick Steves’ map from his travel book. Set along the Arno River, Pisa features the tiny 12th century church, Santa Maria della Spina, whose Gothic spikey spires are more typical of the grand duomos, such as the one in Milan. On Sunday several of the streets are pedestrian only, making an afternoon passagiata pleasant for everyone. Also of interest is Piazza dei Cavalieri with a frescoed palace and statue of Cosimo I de Medici (with an intense expression), ruler of Pisa in the 16th century.
Pisa was a major power during the Middle Ages; its proximity to the sea presented an advantage that its neighbors, Florence and Siena, did not have – a harbor not far from the city proper. However, as the many city-states shuffled for power and independence, Genoa would become the mightier port city by the early 14th century. During the Renaissance, Pisa was controlled by Florence (hence the Medici statute) – a good thing for art but bad for governing independence. Today its claim to fame is, of course, its leaning tower and its Duomo and Baptistry, all in the Campo dei Miracoli, Field of Miracles.
Approaching the Field of Miracles from Via Santa Maria, I was immediately awestruck with the whiteness of the buildings – all marble. The style is called Pisan Romanesque, according to the guidebooks, a blending of the weightier features a Romanesque design with the white marble and an airiness in the design space. Definitely celestial! I was also amazed to find that the Leaning Tower didn’t lean – ahem, from my perspective. A quick few steps revealed just how much it does indeed lean!
The Tower’s slant is due to the sandy soil. Built at the end of the 12th century, the Tower evidently begin its sideways descent before construction was completed.; today it is nearly 18 feet from vertical! As an iconic symbol of Pisa, the Tower has attracted people throughout the ages from all countries., including Galileo who used it to conduct velocity experiments. 15€ gets one to the top for a lovely view of the city; however, the price as well as the warnings about the slant and rather unsubstantial railings deter some people – myself included. Brunellschi’s Dome in Florence was well worth the 8€ and 476 steps for the stunning panorama WITH secure railings. I wasn’t so sure that I could do Pisa’s Tower!
After lunch in the warm sunshine, Emma and slowly meandered back, stopping to watch crewing on the Arno. With an eye to the pocket book, we bought some cheese, crackers, fruit, and a Chianti (for me) at a small market, and ate in while I finished grading student reports.
Monday morning we were to catch an 8:33 train to Florence, stopping there to pick up a Tuscan pitcher that Kathy wanted. Marina, the B&B manager/owner, prepared breakfast a little early so that we would have something. Her grandparents were from Lucca; however, Marina was born and raised in Scotland and speaks with a decided Scottish brogue. She is friendly and runs a pleasant, comfortable establishment that I would recommend. We said our goodbyes, walked the short distance to the station, and were off to Florence.
Checking our bag at the Florence station, Emma and I explored the Straw Market as we made our way to the pottery shop on the other side of the Ponte Vecchio and Arno. Errand completed, we stopped for lunch at the Duomo caffe where we had eaten last fall, and then back to get our luggage and catch the train to Padua and then to Castelfranco. By 5:30, we were home, catching up on news with Abbey, and thinking about school the next day.
Already, I miss Tuscany.
Not having made the ticket reservations beforehand as I usually do, I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to make the connections. However, the automated ticket machines proved quite easy to use for the regional trains. The friendly Trenitalia ticket man quickly booked us the IC (InnerCity) from Padua to Prato and saved us money by recommending a different Eurostar from Florence to Padua on our return. As a result, we enjoyed a 50% discount!! He has waited on me several times and is always pleasant, remembering always the previous bookings he has made for us.
Other than a fast connect at Prato Centrale for Lucca (Emma afraid that I wasn’t going to get on the train in time), we had an uneventful trip, arriving in Lucca about 1:30. Spring was definitely here. In the Veneto, traces can be seen with crocuses, daffodils, forsythia, and early blooming fruit trees; however, the magnolias and early summer flowers are visible everywhere in this part of Tuscany. The air smelled like spring – fresh, clean, warm.
Emma and I went first to the TI (Tourist Information) by the train station for a city map, and the man gave us a lot of information about sights to see and events. Breakfast having been a so-so sandwich on the train, we stopped at a pleasant caffe/ristorante just inside the city walls. The weather was warm and sunny, so we were able to enjoy eating outside. Emma had one of her favorits, penne all’arrabiata (red sauce with pepperocini), and I had fresh salad with grilled vegetables. Afterward, we made our way to Piazza Napolean (he was here in Lucca too!!!) and Piazza San Michele, turning onto Via Roma and then onto Via Cenami to our hotel, Al Tuscany, a bed & breakfast.
Isabella, the afternoon staff person, greeted us and showed us to our room – complete with a kitchenette. Because the building the hotel was in was undergoing renovations, we had a back room that was quiet and roomy. Emma and I quickly settled in, and then we began exploring this delightful town, scouting out restaurants for dinner. Frances Mayes is right: in Italy, one is no more through with lunch than he or she is already contemplating dinner!!
Lucca is charming. About the size of Siena and as old, it has less the Medieval characteristics that Siena has. Or perhaps, those characteristics are defined differently because of geography. Both are walled cities – with walls intact. Both are old cities, with ties to the Roman era and before. However, while hilltop Siena’s steep grades to keep those leg muscles in shape and has retained its somber, grey architecture in true Medieval fashion, Lucca’s streets undulate and its impressive buildings complement the many budding gardens within the city walls. Siena seems to enclose itself, separated from the Tuscan countryside; Lucca embraces the gentle green hills that slope westward towards the sea and eastward towards Florence. I loved both cities, so I suspect my appreciation for Lucca was connected in part to spring fever.
The Guinigi family who put Lucca on the Renaissance map with the silk industry evidently loved gardens. Even their tower rooftop features a garden with full-sized trees. The walls of the city are wide, about 3 miles around. To ensure enemies were unable to camouflage themselves, the Luccans cleared several hundred feet of brush and trees. Today, this immense circular green serves as a field for hikers and pet owners. The wall also features arrow-shaped jut-outs, that once were for weapons and defense and now provide locals and tourists with glorious views. On this warm Friday afternoon, Emma and I enjoyed a walk on the ramparts with spring-filled Tuscan hills and plains on one side and terra-cotta Luccan rooftops on the other.
We found small pizzeria-ristorante for dinner, deciding to bypass the more expensive trattorias. Chiana beef is popular here; remembering how exquisite it was in Cortona, I ordered the taglia al rucola (rare sliced beef on arugula with garlic and olive oil). Emma opted for a hearty Tuscan soup, much like the ribollita of Siena – a vegetable soup with chunks of bread. Back at the hotel, we read for a bit – Emma with Mathilda and Diary of a Wimpy Kid; I with Bella Tuscany.
Saturday was another beautiful day – perfect for the antique market in Lucca’s streets. Like most markets, there was the usual “junk”; however, the antique markets also draw some vendors with quality merchandise. I saw many things that I would love to have – but no way to transport them. Lucky for the checkbook!
We found San Giovanni church, where the Puccini concert is held every evening at 7:00. Our hotel provided us with complimentary tickets, so we decided to do the concert tonight. Then on to the Duomo, San Martino, an incredibly big, beautiful church. Because it is being renovated, inside and out, the scaffolding and curtains discouraged picture takers, so I bought a postcard depicting what the church looks like “normally.”
After San Martino, we walked to Torre Guinigi, the Guinigi family’s tower. Rather than castles, many of the wealthy, powerful people of the late Medieval and early Renaissance periods built towers as residence; these were, essentially rooms upon rooms with the stairs connecting them. The Torre Guinigi is not particularly tall; however, its 270+ steps certainly provide exercise. Can you imagine just going out the front door to discover you’d left something on the top floor?? Most of the tower’s steps were the original stone, but towards the top, steel risers had been installed. Quite a few frescoes still remain, particularly on the lower levels, as does a huge fireplace, perhaps one that was used for cooking. The highlight, however, is the rooftop garden, complete with two tall trees. The view of Lucca and its environs are beautiful from there, especially the wall.
Time for lunch, which again, we enjoyed outside. Then bike riding on the ramparts! The flat top of the wide walls is easily accessible from the several porti, or gates into the city. It’s a local favorite for joggers, walkers, and bikers – and obviously a draw for tourists as well, particularly on such a beautiful day. Nearly 3 miles around, the 16th century walls offer shady tree-lined areas and warm, sunny picnic spots on the 8 or so arrow-shaped jut-outs. After 2 times around, Emma and I regained some strength with a gelatto break, and then did another go-around before returning our bikes.
Perhaps the highlight of the day was the Puccini concert. Lucca is the composer’s birthplace, and his house is a small museum that contains among other items the piano that he used to compose Turandot, one of his famous operas. Sadly, the museum is temporarily closed; evidently some family dispute with either the city or among themselves. Anyway, the city celebrates Puccini with a nightly concert in San Giovanni church, featuring arias from his works plus selections from other composers such as Mozart, Verdi, and Mascagni. A soprano and a tenor were the soloists this evening, and the pianist was the music director. The soprano was incredible; she was French, although most of the performers are Italian singers, all of whom are professional. Her voice was strong and full but with a rich clarity that prevented any heaviness in tone some sopranos have. One of the numbers was “O mio babbino caro” from Gianni Schicchi, one of the songs that Abbey does; also songs from La Traviata and La Boheme.
Next morning after breakfast – off to Pisa, about 20-minute train ride. Again I panicked Emma inadvertently by getting off the train at the 1st Pisa station (which would have been alright) instead of Centrale (main station); I barely made it back on the train. Since it was Sunday, no TI was open for a full map of the town, I was glad to have brought the Rick Steves’ map from his travel book. Set along the Arno River, Pisa features the tiny 12th century church, Santa Maria della Spina, whose Gothic spikey spires are more typical of the grand duomos, such as the one in Milan. On Sunday several of the streets are pedestrian only, making an afternoon passagiata pleasant for everyone. Also of interest is Piazza dei Cavalieri with a frescoed palace and statue of Cosimo I de Medici (with an intense expression), ruler of Pisa in the 16th century.
Pisa was a major power during the Middle Ages; its proximity to the sea presented an advantage that its neighbors, Florence and Siena, did not have – a harbor not far from the city proper. However, as the many city-states shuffled for power and independence, Genoa would become the mightier port city by the early 14th century. During the Renaissance, Pisa was controlled by Florence (hence the Medici statute) – a good thing for art but bad for governing independence. Today its claim to fame is, of course, its leaning tower and its Duomo and Baptistry, all in the Campo dei Miracoli, Field of Miracles.
Approaching the Field of Miracles from Via Santa Maria, I was immediately awestruck with the whiteness of the buildings – all marble. The style is called Pisan Romanesque, according to the guidebooks, a blending of the weightier features a Romanesque design with the white marble and an airiness in the design space. Definitely celestial! I was also amazed to find that the Leaning Tower didn’t lean – ahem, from my perspective. A quick few steps revealed just how much it does indeed lean!
The Tower’s slant is due to the sandy soil. Built at the end of the 12th century, the Tower evidently begin its sideways descent before construction was completed.; today it is nearly 18 feet from vertical! As an iconic symbol of Pisa, the Tower has attracted people throughout the ages from all countries., including Galileo who used it to conduct velocity experiments. 15€ gets one to the top for a lovely view of the city; however, the price as well as the warnings about the slant and rather unsubstantial railings deter some people – myself included. Brunellschi’s Dome in Florence was well worth the 8€ and 476 steps for the stunning panorama WITH secure railings. I wasn’t so sure that I could do Pisa’s Tower!
After lunch in the warm sunshine, Emma and slowly meandered back, stopping to watch crewing on the Arno. With an eye to the pocket book, we bought some cheese, crackers, fruit, and a Chianti (for me) at a small market, and ate in while I finished grading student reports.
Monday morning we were to catch an 8:33 train to Florence, stopping there to pick up a Tuscan pitcher that Kathy wanted. Marina, the B&B manager/owner, prepared breakfast a little early so that we would have something. Her grandparents were from Lucca; however, Marina was born and raised in Scotland and speaks with a decided Scottish brogue. She is friendly and runs a pleasant, comfortable establishment that I would recommend. We said our goodbyes, walked the short distance to the station, and were off to Florence.
Checking our bag at the Florence station, Emma and I explored the Straw Market as we made our way to the pottery shop on the other side of the Ponte Vecchio and Arno. Errand completed, we stopped for lunch at the Duomo caffe where we had eaten last fall, and then back to get our luggage and catch the train to Padua and then to Castelfranco. By 5:30, we were home, catching up on news with Abbey, and thinking about school the next day.
Already, I miss Tuscany.
Venice Carnavale and Florence Reprise for Emma’s 12th Birthday
Venice Carnavale
People with elaborate masks and period costumes wander the streets, stopping to pose for pictures. In San Marco Piazza, puppet shows and theatre mimes amuse children – and adults. Strains of The Four Seasons by Venetian-born Vivaldi emanate from every corner as decorated gondolas form parades on the canals, their riders serenaded with familiar melodies. It’s February and time once again for Venice Carnavale.
Ten days before Lent, this extravaganza kicks off every year, much like its New Orleans relative, Mardi Gras. Thursday, 19th of February, Kathy, Abbey, Emma, and I were a part of this celebration. With some specific sight-seeing places, such as the Palazzo Ducale (Doge’s Palace) and the Accademia art museum, on my itinerary for Kathy, we made it to only Basilica San Marco, St. Mark’s Church. Too much Carnavale to experience simply by meandering through the streets and piazzi in the San Marco district. The weather was beautiful: sunny and unseasonably warm for February. We needed only a light coat during the day, though nights chilled quickly.
Many towns and cities in Italy celebrate Carnavale, with different themes – Medieval or quirky Halloween-like humor such as the one in Viareggio in Tuscany. Venice’s Carnavale relives the splendor of the 18th century. The costumes are extraordinary, as elaborate as any in a Merchant-Ivory historical film. From feathered hats and powdered wigs to buttoned shoes and spats, the revelers looked as if they had stepped out of French palace before the Revolution of 1789, of course. Rich reds, iridescent blues and purples, deep greens, and the stark black and white – color was everywhere.
Where we would normally gawk at frescoes and Corinthian columns, we now watched for the next costumed passer-byes who would obliging stop for us to take a picture. During the day, the revelers walk throughout the city, or at least one of the six sestieri or districts; at night, those who can afford it, attend one or more of the many events or balls, that cost 350€ to 800€ to attend! On the vaporetto that morning, I had met a woman from England, having flown in just for the day to meet some costumed friends who were attending a mystery ball that night – in masks, of course.
The masks themselves are remarkable. Many are handmade in Italy, and those with hand-painted ceramic faces and jewels are the most costly. We settled for the traditional, affordable ones – after all, colored glass can sparkle just as well! Impossible to describe well, these masks should be viewed to be appreciated. Hint: look at the pictures of Carnavale. [forthcoming]
Our hotel reserved us a spot with a gondola parade in the afternoon. Donning our masks, we met our gondolier on the Grand Canal, near our hotel. Along with about 8 other festively-decorated gondolas, we experienced Venice from the water, and it is indeed a quite different perspective. Many of the canals in the city are narrow, and the gondolier expertly guided us around moored boats and docks, often with an inch gap - just like my navigating the narrow “roads” of Asolo, I thought to myself, remembering the first time I drove them thinking they were one-way alleys until I saw the approaching car. Good thing that mirrors fold in; good thing that gondolas have no mirrors, I thought, as my coat sleeve brushed a rubber-sided dock.
Watermarks from flooding are evident on the buildings, and often steps lead up to the “back door” entrance of a building. We passed under several bridges, waving to the pedestrians above who were either in costume or were tourists taking pictures of those in costume. The narrow canals wind their ways into a larger one, and eventually we were back on the Grand Canal amidst the vaporetti, water taxis, and private boats. Interesting experience being rocked by the waves from a vaporetta when sitting only a few inches above the water in a gondola!
Kathy shopped for gifts to take home and for a charm denoting Italy, eventually finding a gondola one. Then back to the hotel for some rest before dinner. We stayed in Hotel Saturnia & International, about a 5-minute walk from Piazza San Marco – a lovely hotel with distinctive Venetian decor. Normally it would be out of our price range as a 4-star, but it offered a substantial 50% discount for a one-night, non-weekend stay during Carnavale. Glad we grabbed it up! So did the girls as their room had a jacuzzi! I luxuriated in a bath (our apartment has only a shower) before dinner with a glass of Sangiovese Valpolicella. Kath laid on the bed and read (through her eyelids).
That evening we ate dinner in a small restaurant just off Piazza San Marco. Tim, Emma, and I had eaten there on a prior day trip to Venice last fall. Good food, inexpensive, and frequented by locals as well as tourists. One of the best penne all’arrabiatta ever. Penne all’arrabiatta is literally penne with angry sauce; it’s spiced with pepperocini, Italian hot peppers, just a bit different from the chile peppers, but just as hot.
After a delicious breakfast, we leisurely made our way back – down Via XXII Novembre to Piazza Santa Maria Zobenigo, turning down the narrow alley, Campo dell Traghetto to the vaporetti stand and back to Santa Lucia train station for a train to Florence. The vaporetta was packed, many regular locals heading to the Rialto fish market, but also many tourists. A quick glance at the vaporetti headed toward San Marco reassured us that we did Carnavale at the right time. Indeed we later learned that our decision not to return on Sunday from Florence was a good one; the trains that night were so full, people were standing in the aisles, and there weren’t enough trains to accommodate the people.
At 12:47, the Eurostar left, and we arrived at Santa Maria Novella station in Florence at 2:30.
Florence Reprise for Emma’s 12th Birthday
I hadn’t originally planned on taking Kath to Florence, since she was watching the budget after a long trip to Australia to visit Jen. However, when she came, she commented that a friend back home said she should see Florence if possible. No arguments from me, plus Emma remarked that she would love to spend her 12th birthday there, place of her favorite soup! So we worked in the weekend to allow for a half day on Friday and full one on Saturday.
Our budget hotel was on Via Cavour, about a 15-minute walk from the station. Problem was I wasn’t sure when we got to Via Cavour whether the hotel was down toward the city center or up toward Piazza della Liberta. While I walked to a store to ask, Kath and the girls waited at the corner. Before long, two ladies walking by stopped to ask if they needed help. One of the women and Abbey were communicating fairly comfortably in Italian when I walked back – with no directional information. The women, however, knew where the hotel was, but we were stuck on a word. Inglese, I asked? No, non bene, one replied. Okay, I thought; let’s go down the list. Franchese (French)? No, no, no, she emphatically shook her head. Last shot – Tedeschi (German)? Ja, ja, Ich spreche Deutsch, the other woman replied. Ich bin eine Polander (yes, I speak German; I’m from Poland). So while Abbey and the one woman spoke in Italian, the other and I did in German. The directions were perfect; we found the hotel, about 10 minutes from the Duomo.
We unpacked and immediately headed to the Duomo to climb the Dome for some pictures. Kath almost made it to the top, so Abbey took her camera to get her pictures with it. The late afternoon was clear, and the sun was setting, turning the clouds a deep orange against the blue-dark sky. Florence at sunset!
After climbing down, we met Kath and headed to find pizzeria for dinner. Then back for an early night to prepare for the big day tomorrow.
21st of February – Emma’s birthday. An all-day celebration, no doubt.
People with elaborate masks and period costumes wander the streets, stopping to pose for pictures. In San Marco Piazza, puppet shows and theatre mimes amuse children – and adults. Strains of The Four Seasons by Venetian-born Vivaldi emanate from every corner as decorated gondolas form parades on the canals, their riders serenaded with familiar melodies. It’s February and time once again for Venice Carnavale.
Ten days before Lent, this extravaganza kicks off every year, much like its New Orleans relative, Mardi Gras. Thursday, 19th of February, Kathy, Abbey, Emma, and I were a part of this celebration. With some specific sight-seeing places, such as the Palazzo Ducale (Doge’s Palace) and the Accademia art museum, on my itinerary for Kathy, we made it to only Basilica San Marco, St. Mark’s Church. Too much Carnavale to experience simply by meandering through the streets and piazzi in the San Marco district. The weather was beautiful: sunny and unseasonably warm for February. We needed only a light coat during the day, though nights chilled quickly.
Many towns and cities in Italy celebrate Carnavale, with different themes – Medieval or quirky Halloween-like humor such as the one in Viareggio in Tuscany. Venice’s Carnavale relives the splendor of the 18th century. The costumes are extraordinary, as elaborate as any in a Merchant-Ivory historical film. From feathered hats and powdered wigs to buttoned shoes and spats, the revelers looked as if they had stepped out of French palace before the Revolution of 1789, of course. Rich reds, iridescent blues and purples, deep greens, and the stark black and white – color was everywhere.
Where we would normally gawk at frescoes and Corinthian columns, we now watched for the next costumed passer-byes who would obliging stop for us to take a picture. During the day, the revelers walk throughout the city, or at least one of the six sestieri or districts; at night, those who can afford it, attend one or more of the many events or balls, that cost 350€ to 800€ to attend! On the vaporetto that morning, I had met a woman from England, having flown in just for the day to meet some costumed friends who were attending a mystery ball that night – in masks, of course.
The masks themselves are remarkable. Many are handmade in Italy, and those with hand-painted ceramic faces and jewels are the most costly. We settled for the traditional, affordable ones – after all, colored glass can sparkle just as well! Impossible to describe well, these masks should be viewed to be appreciated. Hint: look at the pictures of Carnavale. [forthcoming]
Our hotel reserved us a spot with a gondola parade in the afternoon. Donning our masks, we met our gondolier on the Grand Canal, near our hotel. Along with about 8 other festively-decorated gondolas, we experienced Venice from the water, and it is indeed a quite different perspective. Many of the canals in the city are narrow, and the gondolier expertly guided us around moored boats and docks, often with an inch gap - just like my navigating the narrow “roads” of Asolo, I thought to myself, remembering the first time I drove them thinking they were one-way alleys until I saw the approaching car. Good thing that mirrors fold in; good thing that gondolas have no mirrors, I thought, as my coat sleeve brushed a rubber-sided dock.
Watermarks from flooding are evident on the buildings, and often steps lead up to the “back door” entrance of a building. We passed under several bridges, waving to the pedestrians above who were either in costume or were tourists taking pictures of those in costume. The narrow canals wind their ways into a larger one, and eventually we were back on the Grand Canal amidst the vaporetti, water taxis, and private boats. Interesting experience being rocked by the waves from a vaporetta when sitting only a few inches above the water in a gondola!
Kathy shopped for gifts to take home and for a charm denoting Italy, eventually finding a gondola one. Then back to the hotel for some rest before dinner. We stayed in Hotel Saturnia & International, about a 5-minute walk from Piazza San Marco – a lovely hotel with distinctive Venetian decor. Normally it would be out of our price range as a 4-star, but it offered a substantial 50% discount for a one-night, non-weekend stay during Carnavale. Glad we grabbed it up! So did the girls as their room had a jacuzzi! I luxuriated in a bath (our apartment has only a shower) before dinner with a glass of Sangiovese Valpolicella. Kath laid on the bed and read (through her eyelids).
That evening we ate dinner in a small restaurant just off Piazza San Marco. Tim, Emma, and I had eaten there on a prior day trip to Venice last fall. Good food, inexpensive, and frequented by locals as well as tourists. One of the best penne all’arrabiatta ever. Penne all’arrabiatta is literally penne with angry sauce; it’s spiced with pepperocini, Italian hot peppers, just a bit different from the chile peppers, but just as hot.
After a delicious breakfast, we leisurely made our way back – down Via XXII Novembre to Piazza Santa Maria Zobenigo, turning down the narrow alley, Campo dell Traghetto to the vaporetti stand and back to Santa Lucia train station for a train to Florence. The vaporetta was packed, many regular locals heading to the Rialto fish market, but also many tourists. A quick glance at the vaporetti headed toward San Marco reassured us that we did Carnavale at the right time. Indeed we later learned that our decision not to return on Sunday from Florence was a good one; the trains that night were so full, people were standing in the aisles, and there weren’t enough trains to accommodate the people.
At 12:47, the Eurostar left, and we arrived at Santa Maria Novella station in Florence at 2:30.
Florence Reprise for Emma’s 12th Birthday
I hadn’t originally planned on taking Kath to Florence, since she was watching the budget after a long trip to Australia to visit Jen. However, when she came, she commented that a friend back home said she should see Florence if possible. No arguments from me, plus Emma remarked that she would love to spend her 12th birthday there, place of her favorite soup! So we worked in the weekend to allow for a half day on Friday and full one on Saturday.
Our budget hotel was on Via Cavour, about a 15-minute walk from the station. Problem was I wasn’t sure when we got to Via Cavour whether the hotel was down toward the city center or up toward Piazza della Liberta. While I walked to a store to ask, Kath and the girls waited at the corner. Before long, two ladies walking by stopped to ask if they needed help. One of the women and Abbey were communicating fairly comfortably in Italian when I walked back – with no directional information. The women, however, knew where the hotel was, but we were stuck on a word. Inglese, I asked? No, non bene, one replied. Okay, I thought; let’s go down the list. Franchese (French)? No, no, no, she emphatically shook her head. Last shot – Tedeschi (German)? Ja, ja, Ich spreche Deutsch, the other woman replied. Ich bin eine Polander (yes, I speak German; I’m from Poland). So while Abbey and the one woman spoke in Italian, the other and I did in German. The directions were perfect; we found the hotel, about 10 minutes from the Duomo.
We unpacked and immediately headed to the Duomo to climb the Dome for some pictures. Kath almost made it to the top, so Abbey took her camera to get her pictures with it. The late afternoon was clear, and the sun was setting, turning the clouds a deep orange against the blue-dark sky. Florence at sunset!
After climbing down, we met Kath and headed to find pizzeria for dinner. Then back for an early night to prepare for the big day tomorrow.
21st of February – Emma’s birthday. An all-day celebration, no doubt.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Kathy Visits!
Last Friday (ooo, Friday the 13th!), Abbey, Emma, and I drove to the train station to pick up Kathy who managed just fine all the connections I gave her!! Tired but full of gab, she was relieved to see us, especially as we were late in getting to the station. We took her grocery shopping -- always an interesting experience here -- and the Sunday market in Crespano. Since it was a beautiful sunny day, Mt. Grappa seemed a likely destination. However, the road about three-quarters of the way up was closed with snow. Still we saw close-up some paragliders take off. Fascinating.
Monday we headed toward Verona. After all the rain and cool temperatures, the sunny days of 50 degrees were welcomed. After checking into the hotel, we had lunch on Piazza Bra and then explored the Roman amphitheather which is almost entirely intact. Built around 300 AD, it can seat 22,000 (compared to Rome's 40,000+). Today it hosts outdoor operas and plays during warm months as it has unbelievable acoustics. The view on the top row of seats highlights the beauty of Verona with the snow-capped mountains near Lake Garda in the background.
After enjoying some window shopping along Via Mazzini, we bought some souvenirs at the market in Piazza Erbe and visited the casa degli Juliette -- Juliet's house, as in Juliet Capulet, of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, which he set in Verona. Although there is no evidence that a Juliet lived here and that even a Juliet existed, one of Verona's most visited sites is this one. The house has an impressive collection of various texts of the play and paintings and prints depicting scenes from the play, most frequently the young lovers' deaths. Also on display are Juliet's dress and Romeo's partywear for the ball. Dinner that night on the Piazza Bra.
Tuesday was again warm and sunny as we explored the Castelvecchio built in 1298 by the Scaligera or Scala family, who ruled Verona until Venice conquored it. Located on the bank of the Adige River, it is imposing with crenellated walls in dark red brick. Inside are various paintings of the family members, statues -- including a huge one of Cangrande II atop his horse -- and other artifacts. A bridge across the river connects the castle to the outer part of town. We walked across, enjoying the sun and then a tasty lunch outside on Piazza Erbe.
Since Kathy said we could do only two churches (!), we visited Sant'Anastasia and the Duomo. Both are interesting architecturally. The Duomo is a mix of Gothic and Roman; Sant'Anastasia is Romanesque on the outside and Gothic inside; it dates from the 13th century. We also toured the ancient Roman theater or teatro, from the time of Augustus. It was "discovered" in the early 1900's.
Verona is a small city, with a very compact center, yet its importance in history is significant. Once a Roman outpost and crossroad for trade, it witnessed conflict with the Guelph and Ghibelline battles in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance. The Scaligeri (aka Scala) family with its icons of dogs and ladders (scala means ladder in Italian) ruled for many years. Winged lions, the symbol of Venice, also abound in the city, reflecting its Venetian control. Then Napolean came (where didn't he go?) and thankfully left; later Austria and then facism with WWII. Finally post-war peace in 1945. As an FYI, Albany, New York is a sister sister city to Verona!
Some wine, hot chocolate, and more food for Emma at an Enoteca, then off to the train station and home!
Monday we headed toward Verona. After all the rain and cool temperatures, the sunny days of 50 degrees were welcomed. After checking into the hotel, we had lunch on Piazza Bra and then explored the Roman amphitheather which is almost entirely intact. Built around 300 AD, it can seat 22,000 (compared to Rome's 40,000+). Today it hosts outdoor operas and plays during warm months as it has unbelievable acoustics. The view on the top row of seats highlights the beauty of Verona with the snow-capped mountains near Lake Garda in the background.
After enjoying some window shopping along Via Mazzini, we bought some souvenirs at the market in Piazza Erbe and visited the casa degli Juliette -- Juliet's house, as in Juliet Capulet, of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, which he set in Verona. Although there is no evidence that a Juliet lived here and that even a Juliet existed, one of Verona's most visited sites is this one. The house has an impressive collection of various texts of the play and paintings and prints depicting scenes from the play, most frequently the young lovers' deaths. Also on display are Juliet's dress and Romeo's partywear for the ball. Dinner that night on the Piazza Bra.
Tuesday was again warm and sunny as we explored the Castelvecchio built in 1298 by the Scaligera or Scala family, who ruled Verona until Venice conquored it. Located on the bank of the Adige River, it is imposing with crenellated walls in dark red brick. Inside are various paintings of the family members, statues -- including a huge one of Cangrande II atop his horse -- and other artifacts. A bridge across the river connects the castle to the outer part of town. We walked across, enjoying the sun and then a tasty lunch outside on Piazza Erbe.
Since Kathy said we could do only two churches (!), we visited Sant'Anastasia and the Duomo. Both are interesting architecturally. The Duomo is a mix of Gothic and Roman; Sant'Anastasia is Romanesque on the outside and Gothic inside; it dates from the 13th century. We also toured the ancient Roman theater or teatro, from the time of Augustus. It was "discovered" in the early 1900's.
Verona is a small city, with a very compact center, yet its importance in history is significant. Once a Roman outpost and crossroad for trade, it witnessed conflict with the Guelph and Ghibelline battles in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance. The Scaligeri (aka Scala) family with its icons of dogs and ladders (scala means ladder in Italian) ruled for many years. Winged lions, the symbol of Venice, also abound in the city, reflecting its Venetian control. Then Napolean came (where didn't he go?) and thankfully left; later Austria and then facism with WWII. Finally post-war peace in 1945. As an FYI, Albany, New York is a sister sister city to Verona!
Some wine, hot chocolate, and more food for Emma at an Enoteca, then off to the train station and home!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Semester Weeks 1 & 2, 19-31 January: Classes Begin & Friends Visit
On Monday, as we faculty finished a seminar on the Kepner-Tregoe philosophy of neuroscience, the buses from Bassano train station began rolling in, the first at 11:00 am. For me, it seemed such a short time ago that the Fall 08 students arrived. The day was cold – and once again – rainy. RI’s, staff, and faculty were on hand to facilitate the process of helping people get settled. Some students were operating on very little, if any, sleep, depending on where they came from and the connections. Bags upon bags piled up under the overhang of the Pio building where students checked in, received their information packet, their phone (if they ordered one), and grab some fruit and sandwich from the Tabacchi. After finding their rooms, they came to the Simpson Room to pick up books. All in all – three buses and 141 students from schools all over the US: from New York to California, Minnesota to Texas, and nearly every state in between, the largest contingency from University of Kansas.
Students had an orientation the first several nights after dinner, and we began classes on Tuesday. Nothing like refusing to let jet lag take over!! Everyone, well nearly everyone, was ready. Professors and students introduced themselves in classes, and semester course material reviewed. So much to process academically and culturally in those days. For many of us, the week’s highlight was Al Sole opening on Wednesday after being closed for more than a week (vacation time). Pizza – REAL pizza – does much to revitalize the body and soul after a hectic day. Al Sole will quickly become the students’ favorite after tiring of cafeteria menus!!
By Friday, after 4 days of classes, students were preparing for weekend travel, the LIFE program, or simply catching up on much needed sleep. Professors were no different, and the girls and I were getting ready for a visit from friends. Friday night we picked up Judy, Maddy, and Jojo, from the Castelfranco train station. If you remember, they had been our neighbors the fall semester as Judy’s husband, Scott, taught the journalism courses. He was finishing up some work in Lugano, Switzerland, where they had been staying since leaving PDG. Emma and Jojo had a ball; Maddy and Abbey played soccer and practiced Italian; Judy and I enjoyed adult company and wine! We had a hysterical time playing charades. They are leaving for Oregon later in the week; as I took them back to the train station, the girls cried, not wanting to leave Paderno.
Campus seemed quiet this week without classes, but I did get a lot done! The weekend brought the first of several LIFE sessions. LIFE is an intensive leadership program that proves to be life-altering for those who participate in it. It’s not about “changing” who you are, but about “finding” who you are – as an individual, a group member, and a leader. It is one of the many aspects that make the CIMBA program one of the best academic and cultural study abroad experience students could have. Abbey, who had gone through LIFE last semester, is now an assistant trainer. After the second session, the trainers and assistant trainers had dinner, and Cristina (CIMBA director) invited Emma and me to come as well. I'll have to let Emma describe her reaction to visiting Al Ringleb's house (Al is, basically, CIMBA) and to see his wine cellar!!
Students had an orientation the first several nights after dinner, and we began classes on Tuesday. Nothing like refusing to let jet lag take over!! Everyone, well nearly everyone, was ready. Professors and students introduced themselves in classes, and semester course material reviewed. So much to process academically and culturally in those days. For many of us, the week’s highlight was Al Sole opening on Wednesday after being closed for more than a week (vacation time). Pizza – REAL pizza – does much to revitalize the body and soul after a hectic day. Al Sole will quickly become the students’ favorite after tiring of cafeteria menus!!
By Friday, after 4 days of classes, students were preparing for weekend travel, the LIFE program, or simply catching up on much needed sleep. Professors were no different, and the girls and I were getting ready for a visit from friends. Friday night we picked up Judy, Maddy, and Jojo, from the Castelfranco train station. If you remember, they had been our neighbors the fall semester as Judy’s husband, Scott, taught the journalism courses. He was finishing up some work in Lugano, Switzerland, where they had been staying since leaving PDG. Emma and Jojo had a ball; Maddy and Abbey played soccer and practiced Italian; Judy and I enjoyed adult company and wine! We had a hysterical time playing charades. They are leaving for Oregon later in the week; as I took them back to the train station, the girls cried, not wanting to leave Paderno.
Campus seemed quiet this week without classes, but I did get a lot done! The weekend brought the first of several LIFE sessions. LIFE is an intensive leadership program that proves to be life-altering for those who participate in it. It’s not about “changing” who you are, but about “finding” who you are – as an individual, a group member, and a leader. It is one of the many aspects that make the CIMBA program one of the best academic and cultural study abroad experience students could have. Abbey, who had gone through LIFE last semester, is now an assistant trainer. After the second session, the trainers and assistant trainers had dinner, and Cristina (CIMBA director) invited Emma and me to come as well. I'll have to let Emma describe her reaction to visiting Al Ringleb's house (Al is, basically, CIMBA) and to see his wine cellar!!
12-18 January: Preparing for CIMBA Spring 2009
The spring semester faculty arrived this week for orientation and to finish the last-minute prepping for courses. Some of us are returning, including Dominic Standish, Fran Lloyd, Silvia De Nardi, and Michela Marin, all of whom live here in the Veneto and teach every semester; Roger Chope (Oregon), here most spring semesters; Ted Fredrickson (Kansas), returning after 7 years; and myself. New to CIMBA are Ron Christner (Loyola - New Orleans), Les Fould (New Zealand by way of Brazil), Marlys Mason (Oklahoma State) and Chris and Carol Knapp (Univ. of Oklahoma). Also on hand were our resident interns: Jay Werner, Jessica Carrese, Kelly Heesch, Nick Littell, Carla Guarin, and Christina Rood. They too had a busy week checking out the area and getting ready for all the questions the other students would have when they arrived. One day they had a “scavenger hunt” – how to find bus tickets, how to get to Bassano, and more importantly, how to get back!!
The weather was not cooperative this week: chilly and rainy on most days. At least it encouraged us to get our work finished! CIMBA treated the faculty and staff to a wonderful welcome dinner at Besse Ristorante just outside Castelcucco, a neighboring town of Paderno. Naturally the food was plentiful and delicious, and the local wine complemented the dishes of risotto, pasta, meat, and vegetables. The cream pastry dessert was extraordinary!
Sunday, as always, was market day in Crespano. Abbey, Emma, and I walked up for our weekly supply of fruits, cheese, and vegetables – as well as to check out the many other items that range from sweaters and socks to chair cushions and chain saws! Our friendly cheeseman waved hello and sliced us some of the Asiago that we love!
The weather was not cooperative this week: chilly and rainy on most days. At least it encouraged us to get our work finished! CIMBA treated the faculty and staff to a wonderful welcome dinner at Besse Ristorante just outside Castelcucco, a neighboring town of Paderno. Naturally the food was plentiful and delicious, and the local wine complemented the dishes of risotto, pasta, meat, and vegetables. The cream pastry dessert was extraordinary!
Sunday, as always, was market day in Crespano. Abbey, Emma, and I walked up for our weekly supply of fruits, cheese, and vegetables – as well as to check out the many other items that range from sweaters and socks to chair cushions and chain saws! Our friendly cheeseman waved hello and sliced us some of the Asiago that we love!
Tale of Three Cities – Part 3 of 3: Napoli, the Medieval city.
And another late post from our southern Italy trip to Rome, Naples, and Pompeii -- the third (and last!) installment!
I had read enough about Naples to know that it was a rather different city than the others we have visited. Although home to gelato and pizza, it is also a site of organized crime, ineffective city government, and 30% unemployment – not pleasing to either residents or tourists. Still, I wasn’t quite prepared for what we saw exiting the rather shabby train station. A different face of Italy, without a doubt.
Wednesday, 12 November:
Battling traffic in the piazza (usually traffic free), racing across a street to avoid being run over (no pedestrian crossways), and unable to find any street signs (where were they anyway?), I was about ready to turn around and catch the first train back to Rome. I asked a waitress where our hotel’s street was; she wasn’t sure (not a good sign, I thought). However, a nice elderly man came out of the café and directed us down only one block and there indeed was a sign for Hotel Nuovo Rebecchino. The hotel is very clean and pleasant; while the maid finished with the room (we were a bit early), the staff served us some tea. Our room was wonderful, very comfortable – and included a Jacuzzi, much appreciated after walking all over Rome.
Since the skies had clouded over, we decided to take in the Archeological Museum that afternoon, hoping for clearer weather another day for Pompeii. We walked to the Museum, and the sights along the way were a sharp contrast to everywhere else we had been. Trash, piled high on streets and sidewalks, was an efficient depository for those who had had too much to drink; traffic, loud and angry, ignored the few signal lights as drivers found sidewalks efficient ways around congestion; tramps and other “interesting” working people casually mingled with the crowds.
The Museum itself is excellent, although it is not kept up as it should be for its important collections. Much of what had been excavated from Pompeii and Herculaneum is here: frescoes, dinnerware and pottery, tools, even some fabric remnants. The rain persisted on the way back. Not wanting to walk far for dinner, we asked the hotel for a recommendation. A block and a half away was a wonderful restaurant with lots of fish dishes. Naples is a port city after all. Tim was in his glory, and the maitre d’ clearly enjoyed his work. We met an American couple there; they come to Italy frequently to visit her relatives.
Heading back to the hotel, we saw a bit of Napoli’s night life: a man/woman (?) advertising his/her (?) wares enjoying the whistles from passing cars; a pick-up further down; some sort of goods & monetary exchange in an alley. It felt good to be back in the hotel.
Thursday, 13 November:
We woke to more rain, and after an excellent hotel breakfast, we opted to read and catch up on e-mail in our room. By early afternoon, the skies had cleared, and we visited some of the churches, including the Duomo and Cappella Saneverno for Guiseppe Sammartino’s moving sculpture, The Veiled Christ. San Gennaro, Naples’ Duomo, was built at the end of the 13th century. Its museum features much silver, one of the valuable metals in the area. According to the legend, the blood of San Gennaro (Naples’ patron saint) is contained in phials there and becomes liquid 3 days of the year; should is not, the city will have bad luck. I thought about all I had seen there and guessed that probably the blood had not liquified for some time! Later, our hotel directed to us another close-by restaurant, and again, we had a good meal. The same man/woman (?) was out as we made our way back, evidently unfazed by the pouring rain. Later a thunderstorm rolled in; we were quite happy to be cozy in our room.
Friday, 14 November:
After breakfast, we took the local train to Pompeii, passing in the shadow of Mt. Vesuvius on the way. The site of what had been an extremely advanced and progressive city was phenomenal. Emma thought the ruins a wonderful maze; Abbey went crazy with the camera; Tim & I could only imagine what terror those people experienced with the 79 AD eruption. Ash and smoke killed most of the estimated 2000 victims; Pliny the Elder, a Roman writer, witnessed the event with his nephew, Pliny the Younger; unfortunately the Elder ventured too close and suffocated. Careful excavation revealed much about life there: a prosperous civilization with some wealthy villas and a comfortable working class. Evidently much of Pompeii has yet to excavated. Although it was discovered in the late 1500's, archeologists really worked on it beginning in 1748. (Wasn’t that when Samuel Richardson published Pamela that prompted Henry Fielding’s satires, Shamela and Joseph Andrews? No connection; just a random insertion to see if anyone is paying attention!)
A storm rolled in, after which the most beautiful double rainbow I have ever seen appeared. With more clouds in the distance, we wisely decided not to venture down to Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast, now enveloped in fog. We trained back to our hotel, had dinner where we did the first night there, and packed for our 8:30 train back to Paderno the next day.
Naples had been a good experience. More like West Philadelphia with its dirt, graffiti, and atmosphere than like its sister Italian cities, Naples reminded us that beauty of a once great Medieval city can succumb to human greed and short-sightedness. It is a different face of Italy, a sad one, I suspect.
I had read enough about Naples to know that it was a rather different city than the others we have visited. Although home to gelato and pizza, it is also a site of organized crime, ineffective city government, and 30% unemployment – not pleasing to either residents or tourists. Still, I wasn’t quite prepared for what we saw exiting the rather shabby train station. A different face of Italy, without a doubt.
Wednesday, 12 November:
Battling traffic in the piazza (usually traffic free), racing across a street to avoid being run over (no pedestrian crossways), and unable to find any street signs (where were they anyway?), I was about ready to turn around and catch the first train back to Rome. I asked a waitress where our hotel’s street was; she wasn’t sure (not a good sign, I thought). However, a nice elderly man came out of the café and directed us down only one block and there indeed was a sign for Hotel Nuovo Rebecchino. The hotel is very clean and pleasant; while the maid finished with the room (we were a bit early), the staff served us some tea. Our room was wonderful, very comfortable – and included a Jacuzzi, much appreciated after walking all over Rome.
Since the skies had clouded over, we decided to take in the Archeological Museum that afternoon, hoping for clearer weather another day for Pompeii. We walked to the Museum, and the sights along the way were a sharp contrast to everywhere else we had been. Trash, piled high on streets and sidewalks, was an efficient depository for those who had had too much to drink; traffic, loud and angry, ignored the few signal lights as drivers found sidewalks efficient ways around congestion; tramps and other “interesting” working people casually mingled with the crowds.
The Museum itself is excellent, although it is not kept up as it should be for its important collections. Much of what had been excavated from Pompeii and Herculaneum is here: frescoes, dinnerware and pottery, tools, even some fabric remnants. The rain persisted on the way back. Not wanting to walk far for dinner, we asked the hotel for a recommendation. A block and a half away was a wonderful restaurant with lots of fish dishes. Naples is a port city after all. Tim was in his glory, and the maitre d’ clearly enjoyed his work. We met an American couple there; they come to Italy frequently to visit her relatives.
Heading back to the hotel, we saw a bit of Napoli’s night life: a man/woman (?) advertising his/her (?) wares enjoying the whistles from passing cars; a pick-up further down; some sort of goods & monetary exchange in an alley. It felt good to be back in the hotel.
Thursday, 13 November:
We woke to more rain, and after an excellent hotel breakfast, we opted to read and catch up on e-mail in our room. By early afternoon, the skies had cleared, and we visited some of the churches, including the Duomo and Cappella Saneverno for Guiseppe Sammartino’s moving sculpture, The Veiled Christ. San Gennaro, Naples’ Duomo, was built at the end of the 13th century. Its museum features much silver, one of the valuable metals in the area. According to the legend, the blood of San Gennaro (Naples’ patron saint) is contained in phials there and becomes liquid 3 days of the year; should is not, the city will have bad luck. I thought about all I had seen there and guessed that probably the blood had not liquified for some time! Later, our hotel directed to us another close-by restaurant, and again, we had a good meal. The same man/woman (?) was out as we made our way back, evidently unfazed by the pouring rain. Later a thunderstorm rolled in; we were quite happy to be cozy in our room.
Friday, 14 November:
After breakfast, we took the local train to Pompeii, passing in the shadow of Mt. Vesuvius on the way. The site of what had been an extremely advanced and progressive city was phenomenal. Emma thought the ruins a wonderful maze; Abbey went crazy with the camera; Tim & I could only imagine what terror those people experienced with the 79 AD eruption. Ash and smoke killed most of the estimated 2000 victims; Pliny the Elder, a Roman writer, witnessed the event with his nephew, Pliny the Younger; unfortunately the Elder ventured too close and suffocated. Careful excavation revealed much about life there: a prosperous civilization with some wealthy villas and a comfortable working class. Evidently much of Pompeii has yet to excavated. Although it was discovered in the late 1500's, archeologists really worked on it beginning in 1748. (Wasn’t that when Samuel Richardson published Pamela that prompted Henry Fielding’s satires, Shamela and Joseph Andrews? No connection; just a random insertion to see if anyone is paying attention!)
A storm rolled in, after which the most beautiful double rainbow I have ever seen appeared. With more clouds in the distance, we wisely decided not to venture down to Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast, now enveloped in fog. We trained back to our hotel, had dinner where we did the first night there, and packed for our 8:30 train back to Paderno the next day.
Naples had been a good experience. More like West Philadelphia with its dirt, graffiti, and atmosphere than like its sister Italian cities, Naples reminded us that beauty of a once great Medieval city can succumb to human greed and short-sightedness. It is a different face of Italy, a sad one, I suspect.
Tale of Three Cities – Part 2 of 3: Rome, the Ancient city.
Late, I know, but here is Part 2 of 3 for A Tale of Three Cities
Rome (Roma) transports us to the ancient past. Edgar Allan Poe penned the lines “the glory that was Greece, the grandeur that was Rome.” Rome was – and is – indeed grand. The capital of both Italy and the Lazio region, Rome’s past “grandeur” remains evident in its vibrant, energetic present. Someone calculated that to see all the sights of Rome would require at least year. We had barely 5 days, so decisions had to be made!
Saturday, 8 November. Our day began very early and not without incident(s). The week before our second travel week had been hectic with a lot of project conferences for me and test reviews for Tim and student activities for us both. Although downloading pictures and writing blog entries to be uploaded at a later time may seem inconsequential and simply fun work, I was frustrated that I was behind in posting and that the fun part was only in the writing and not at all in the technology of the posting process, especially with a server ill-equipped to deal with nearly 100 students online and downloading huge files of heaven-knows-what! (Yes, that is a long sentence à la Wiliam Faulkner, but it is grammatically correct!) Despite being packed the night before and Tim taking wet laundry to the campus dryers (no clothes dryer in the apartment), we still felt rushed, and I hadn’t quite planned out an itinerary as I had with Liguria and Florence that had helped maximize our time. Not only were we going to Rome, but to Naples as well, and this time we were going for pretty much the entire week with little front and end times.
Unable to sleep, I got up at 4 am, hoping to finish some work before leaving at 5:45 to catch the 7:06 train to Padua, where we would get the Eurostar to Rome. For some reason, we were actually early and with little traffic arrived at Castelfranco station a little after 6. Ah, I thought; we can get some coffee at the Bistro across from the station. As we hauled the bags out of the Fiat’s trunk in the parking lot, Abbey looked up and said, “Do we have to have our passports?” Hearts sinking, Tim, Emma, and I answered “YES.” (Hotels, you may remember, are required to record passport documentation for all non-nationals.) “YOU FORGOT YOUR PASSPORT???” all three of us yelled to her. Okay, situation analysis required; cool heads needed; deep breaths. Emma and I would take all the luggage to the station; Tim and Abbey would drive, or rather speed, back to Paderno. It was a 30-minute drive by normal American standards; they would have to do it by Italian standards to return for the 7:06. As they sped off, I realized that the international drivers licenses were in my purse as we didn’t want to leave them in the car’s glove compartment. Tim didn’t have his license. Normale.
Thanking whoever invented luggage on wheels, Emma and I went to the train station with 4 suitcases, hoping against hope that the 7:06 regional to Padua would be late. Good chance it would be, we thought, since Trenitalia has about a 40% on-time record. As we sat in the warm waiting room, Emma decided she wanted to frank the tickets. The reserved Eurostar doesn’t require the machine franking, but the regionals do, which is what the ticket from Castelfranco to Padua was. I go for the tickets in my purse – no tickets. Can’t be, I thought; I put them in the night before with the passports. Then it occurred to me: I had taken them out to write down the train numbers, times, car and seat assignments for everyone in case we should get separated for any reason. While doing so, I had been sidetracked by who knows what. Great. I had the ticket information I wrote out but not the tickets. They were on the kitchen table.
Thankfully Tim had handed me his phone since Abbey carries mine. I dialed her in a panic. “Abbey, l think I left the tickets on the table; look for them when you go in for the passport.” “Okay; we’re almost there. Dad’s driving like an Italian.” Not what I wanted to hear, though in checking my watch, I realize that we might have a chance to make the train as a result. Emma is pacing, watching the electronic schedule. No sign that the train is running behind. At 6:35, Abbey calls: “We got them, tickets and passport. We’re on our way back.” Okay, we might pull this off.
6:50 I call Abbey. “Where are you?” “Just past the MacDonald’s by Iper,” about 10 minutes away. If they didn’t hit traffic and timed the lights well . . . . Emma and I, in a burst of optimism, lugged the bags to the track – thankfully our train came in on binario uno (track 1). 6:55, no sign of them and no ritardo light next to our train number. 6:59, I see Abbey running breathlessly into the waiting room; a minute later, Tim. At 7:03, the regional from Venice to Padua pulls in, right on time! Thankfully, we settle in our seats, hearts pounding. I looked at Abbey; she looked at me. We burst out laughing. “Well, I saved you,” I said, “and you saved me.” Emma just shook her head, probably glad that for once she had nothing to do with a potential disaster. Tim, however, was energized: he had experienced the Italian bloodsport of driving, as Frances Mayes termed it in her memoir. “I could that again,” he said, “Wow!”
Disembarking in Padua with a comfortable 15 minutes between trains, we boarded the crowded Eurostar, thankful for reserved seats for the 4-hour ride to Rome. Departure time of 8:00 came and went. Something was wrong with the engine, and the conductors were busy back and forth on the cars. By 8:35, we were finally on our way, noting that had we missed the 7:06 regional, the 7:20 would have gotten us to Padua in time to catch the Rome Eurostar! Of course, had that been the case, the Eurostar would not have been 25 minutes late. Normale.
The scenery through Tuscany and Lazio is beautiful, especially with brilliant sunshine. One of the perks of train travel is the ability to enjoy the views. Against a deep azure sky, the rounded green Tuscan hills are marked contrast to the imposing Dolomites and Alps of northern Italy. Fields of harvested corn, soybeans, and hay reminded us of the longer growing season here. Farms and vineyards nestle between small towns, though olive groves and orchards were now bare of fruit in early November. Tall, narrow evergreens create borders and wind barriers, mixing with chestnut and walnut trees. I kept thinking how much Jonathan would enjoy seeing this and comparing/contrasting it to the farms of Northeastern Pennsylvania.
Approaching Rome, the sky grew cloudy, then dark. Rain. Ugh, I thought. Rome is not a city to experience in the rain; thank goodness we brought umbrellas. An hour after schedule, we arrive at Rome Termini train station – 1:00 in the afternoon. And what a surprise – the station is a mall!! Well-designed, convenient, and clean, it has 3 levels of stores ranging from souvenir shops to really good food to bookstores and apparel. Following the directions from the hotel’s website, we easily find Hotel Serendipity, about 5 blocks from the station, down Via Marghera to Via Castro Pretorio. It’s in a beautiful old palazzo (palace), bigger than the one we had in Florence. (Already Abbey is wondering about mosquitoes.) At the gate to the courtyard, we see the buzzer to ring the hotel; the gate opens, and we make our way to the hotel entrance just off a beautiful garden with rain-drenched trees.
Our room is smaller than the others in Rapallo and Florence, but it is clean and comfortable with a good view of the front patio and gate. We unpack a bit for our 5-day stay and notice that the rain has stopped and the sun is once again shining. Wanting to explore the city a bit, we get the Roma Pass which, for three days, gives one free entrance to two museums (excepting the Vatican), reduced fees after the first two museums, and unlimited bus/metro transportation. We decide to use them beginning Sunday to carry us through to Tuesday as we were leaving Wednesday for Siena. Emma wanted to see the Spanish Steps, 2 metro stops from the Termini train station; that settled the itinerary for Day 1 in Roma.
So, off we went. Not quite as clean as the one in Paris, the Roman metro is efficient and prompt. Only real downside are the pickpockets. Crime in Italy is very low, as it is in all of Europe; however, petty pickpocketing is often a problem for unsuspecting tourists. One popular ruse is the woman with baby and child. Having reminded the girls to keep purses in front of them on the crowded metro, I noticed a woman moving throughout the car, holding a baby with a child in tow. Hmmmm, I thought. One does not walk around a speeding metro; one sits or holds on to the poles. She approached an older woman gabbing with a friend, her purse dangling. A man nearby taps the gabbing woman on the shoulder and nods to the pickpocket. Thanking him, she pulls her purse to her. I could have sworn I saw a look of disappointment in the pickpocket’s face; she exits quickly at the next stop. We have one more to go.
At Piazza di Spagna, we get off the metro and find ourselves facing the fountain and to our left, the famous Spanish Steps. No spring azaleas at this time of year, but the Spanish Steps still draws tourists and locals alike. Rome is full of people. There is never an off-season for this city. I spied the Keats-Shelley House, having forgotten at the time it was here. We visited this very small museum which has a large collection of first editions donated by people from all over the world. Keats died here, having come to Italy in hopes the warm mild climate would stave off the tuberculosis which he contracted from caring for his brother. It didn’t of course, in the days before antibiotics. Percy Shelley, angry at the bad reviews of Keats’ poetry, claimed that Keats died from them. Rome would have bad memories for Mary Shelley; not only did Keats die there, but her 3-year old son William did as well. Both were buried in the Protestant cemetery, along with Percy, who drowned later in the Gulf of Spezia on his way to Livorno, off the Ligurian coast. To this day, I wonder how she maintained her sanity with the deaths of 3 children, her husband, and friends, Keats and Byron.
After the museum and a pleasant conversation with the Italian-American attendant (born in Boston to American mother and Italian father), we climbed the Spanish Steps for a twilight view of Rome. Above St. Peter’s Dome in the distance, thousands of sparrows and starlings flew in patterned formations, looking like a funnel cloud one instant and an approaching thunderstorm front the next. It was a choreographed dance with moves synchronized from second to second. We stood amazed. A couple of weeks later, I learned from a report on the BBC that the migrating birds to Rome were in record numbers this year, to the extent that city officials began playing sounds of starlings in distress to discourage some of the birds from settling there. Bird poop was getting a bit annoying to some residents who carried open umbrellas on sunny days in some areas of the city!
Back to the hotel, we cleaned up and decided to eat close to home. Trattoria Gemma all Lupa, on Via Marghera, looked good and was! Our waiter, who answered our paltry Italian with good English, was not Italian himself, but Albanian. He was very nice and very apologetic for delivering Emma her Coca-Cola late and so didn’t charge us for it. We had a wonderful meal at very affordable prices, much more reasonable than Florence actually. After a shaky start that morning, we finished the day on a high note and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.
Sunday, 9 November. Sunny morning was cool at first but quickly became sun-warmed. Breakfast at Bar Jolly, compliments of the hotel. By the way, “bar” in Italy is not the same as a “bar” in the States; it’s a quick place to grab a morning espresso, roll, sandwich, and an afternoon glass of wine or beer. With maps and Roma passes in hand, we take the metro to the Ancient Centre to see the Colosseum, Palantine Hill, and the Forum. A 5-minute metro ride later, we are there. If Emma was the open-mouthed and silent one at Florence’s Duomo, it was I at the initial sight of the Colosseum. Looking at the map as we exited from the metro, I didn’t look up until right in front of this incredible ancient structure. Last – and only – time I had seen it had been at night, 20 years ago, in a bus with Widener merchandising students – a drive-by view at my request as we were returning from a dinner out on our last night in Rome.
Time seems to have stood still here in this spot. The age of the Republic; the age of emperors. History comes alive with every step. I imagine chariots on the car-bustling road and shouts from spectators within the giant walls of the Colosseum. Plays at amphitheatres; Roman senators and wealthy women bustling along the streets. A bus horn brings me back, as does the sight of an anachronistic “gladiator” in full dress talking on a cell phone at the corner tabacchi as he sips an espresso.
“Would you like a tour in English,” speaks a very British voice. A nicely dressed young woman stood before us. “We have tours with English speaking guides.” I wasn’t sure at first as many people tout themselves as guides but aren’t. However, she was clearly British and licensed; the deal seemed good as I had not done all the homework I usually did before travel times. We could use our Roma pass as well. We walked with her to join a group of Americans, Australians, and Brits for a tour with an English-speaking Roman. As it turned out, we didn’t need to use our pass and got in at a lower rate anyway. The tour was brief (1 hour) but good; we learned much about the history, myths, and facts. Christians weren’t fed to the lions or killed here; they were killed in the Circus Maximus however. Nero didn’t fiddle in the Colosseum while Rome burned; it wasn’t even built until after his death. Nevertheless, the Colosseum saw its share of violence with gladiators fighting to the death with each other or wild animals that had been caged and starved below the arena’s floor. There were women gladiators described by Juvenal. Equal opportunity brutality. All rather gruesome for a civilization with a legacy of brilliant engineering, government policies, and art (though much was borrowed from the cultures the Romans conquered).
As part of the tour and to encourage business for the company, we had a freebie tour of Palantine Hill with a British guide. One of the seven hills of Rome, the Palantine is closest to the Colosseum and offers a wonderful view of the Forum remains below. Here is the beginning of the Appian Way with the Lebanese Umbrella trees; the palace ruins of Domitian, one of the early emperors; the expansions by the crazed Nero; the simple lodging of Augustus & Livia; the hut of Romulus, for whom Rome is named; the varied colored marble of the Domus Flavia villa. The Palantine is serene, a perfect spot of a picnic lunch and good book.
The Roman Forum below has a surprising amount of structure left. The 3 columns, decorative Corinthian style, of the Temple of Pollux and Castor are exquisite. The Temple was a tribute to the twins who led the Romans to victory over the Tarquins (Etruscans). The statues in the Vestal Virgins Courtyard are not intact, but enough remains to give one a sense of their original beauty. We later found a “then and now” book of Rome that has transparent overlays of the structures during the Empire over today’s ruins. The Forum was the center of Roman life. Here citizens managed the political and religious affairs of the city. The Temple that Emperor Antoninus built 141 AD for his wife Faustina is remarkably preserved; 6 marble columns of its portico or overhang remain. Trajan’s Column, honoring the defeat of what is now known as Romania, is inscribed with the battle description.
By early afternoon, we were ready for food. Passing the Victor Emmanual monument that Mussolini once made his headquarters, we meandered to Piazza Argentina and enjoyed an outdoor lunch in the afternoon sun. From there, we strolled to the Pantheon and then to the Trevi Fountain, which evoked scenes from Three Coins in the Fountain, the movie that actually made it famous. In 1762, Nicola Salvi scuplted Neptune and two figures of Triton with seahorses, one calm and the other wild (2 moods of the ocean). Legend has it that the fountain is named for Trivia, a girl from ancient Rome who led thirsty soldiers to a spring. It was dusk at that time, and the fountain lights glimmered, almost eerily, as if we were all underwater.
On our way back, we met Courtney Bibbs, a University of New Hampshire student studying in Spain. Her hostel was near our hotel, so we met for dinner: Trattoria Gemma all Lupa again, this time eating outside to enjoy the pleasant evening. Only disquieting note was the news announcement that trains, metros, and buses would be on strike tomorrow – the day we planned to see St. Peter’s and the Vatican Museum. Normale.
Monday, 10 November.
We forfeited breakfast at Bar Jolly (not a great loss) and opted for sandwiches to go from the Termini (train station). Since neither the buses nor metro were operating, we decided to walk to the St. Peter’s metro stop where we were to meet our Palantine Hill tour guide; he would then direct us to Susan, our Vatican guide. Susan is American, with an art history or cultural anthropology (or both?) degree; she has lived in Rome for 8 years. Despite the assurances from a couple in our tour on Sunday, the walk from Termini station to the Vatican was not a 40-minute one, even with walking as fast as we did. (We won’t deduct minutes – and minutes– for picture taking!) After making a few wrong turns, welcomed for a meander but not for a timed appointment, we hailed a taxi. The gum-chewing driver was pleasant, and she readily understood my Italian. Whisking us over the Tiber via Ponte St. Angelo, she got us to our meeting point in plenty of time for a coffee/tea before connecting with our tour.
Susan was exceptionally knowledgeable with a wonderfully dry sense of humor. The Vatican Museum is incredibly huge; like the Louvre (and many other museums), it is impossible to see everything in a day. The double helix staircase makes one dizzy. Susan had studied much about funerary art and took us to the ancient Greek and Roman area and explained the rites and traditions of sarcophagi. The sculpted tomb indicates the person’s social place, familial relationships, and work. We looked at several art works with both Christian and classical themes. One work that stood out was a painting of a table that, although painted from an angle, looked the same on either side. Spooky. A bit like the eyes that seem to follow you no matter where you are. Many sculptures such as Apollo Belvedere were in excellent condition, though many others were broken (or had their private areas fig-leaved when the Church went through an art-unappreciation mode).
The Sistine Chapel was very crowded; good weather had brought many people to Rome. I had been here 20 years ago, when half of Michelangelo’s ceiling had been restored. Then we could take pictures. Now, with restoration complete, we cannot. Postcards will have to do. Funny that I remember the Chapel larger than it seemed this time. Nevertheless, Michelangelo’s work cuts to the soul; indeed much of his own is in it.
Susan left us at St. Peter’s Square, and we visited the inside of the church – very beautiful. However, for some reason it did not have a “spiritual” aura (not sure how to describe it) that other churches have had, Notre-Dame or Florence’s Duomo, for example. Its dome was designed by Michelangelo, although he died before it was completed. The Square itself, designed by Bernini, is spectacular with its symmetry and columns. Scenes from Dan Brown’s novel, Angels and Demons, kept appearing, to the point that I gave in and bought a paperback copy to reread while in Rome! The Vatican is its own entity, technically a part of Italy only by virtue of its geography. It has its own post office, government, and bank (rich, rich, rich!!). People can make an appointment to “see” the Pope wave from his apartment; we declined.
After a good lunch in a café off the Square, we walked back to the hotel leisurely. Emma discovered a beaver swimming in the Tiber, and she and Tim went to the edge to check it out. Evidently beavers made an agreement with Roman authorities not to build dams in exchange for a protected environment.
That night we met one of our CIMBA students, Mike, who had connected with one of his friends from home there. We enjoyed a great meal at Antica Birreria Peroni, known for its beer, good food, and mixing of locals and tourists. Since Mike’s friend enjoys brewing like Tim, the guys had fun exchanging successes and, well, not successes! We walked back together – a pleasant evening to view the lights and vibrancy of Rome at night.
Tuesday, 11 November.
Our hotel made us an appointment for the Borghese Museum in the morning. The strike now over, we took a bus there, fortunately estimating rightly where to get off (signs not clearly marked). The gleaming white villa shines amid the green of the gardens and shade trees. The Museum features many works by Bernini, in addition to paintings by Raphael and Caraveggio. Rick Steves aptly describes it as “Classical meeting Renaissance”; in fact, Scipione Borghese wanted to promote Renaissance art by depicted its value with the Classical works. His collection was enormous. Especially powerful is Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne.
The girls opted for some downtime, so Tim and I quite willingly set off for lunch alone and to explore the city more. We visited the church Santa Maria Maggiore, built in 402 AD and still possessing mosaics from that time. The church had been a refuge for many as the Roman Empire was collapsing. After, we had a pleasant lunch not far and did some shopping on Via Nazionale. Tim found a new suitcase, much needed as his old one had broken in London: a Delsey that matched one of the pieces we had purchased in Strasbourg, France 2 years earlier. Our hotel manager looked startled as we came in with the suitcase; she inquired where we had been and laughed when Tim said we need a bigger bag for all the souvenirs. That night we visited the Pantheon inside, meeting some folks from Australia. We had dinner on nearby Via dei Pastini where each ristorante was hawking its menu. Tim opted for one that featured fish; Emma and I didn’t care as the pasta was always superb! The heaters enabled people to enjoy an al fresco meal in November. Ahhh – Roma e la bella citta!
Wednesday, 12 November. Train to Naples.
Packed and ready for the train to Napoli, we said a sad goodbye to Rome. It is indeed grand.
Rome (Roma) transports us to the ancient past. Edgar Allan Poe penned the lines “the glory that was Greece, the grandeur that was Rome.” Rome was – and is – indeed grand. The capital of both Italy and the Lazio region, Rome’s past “grandeur” remains evident in its vibrant, energetic present. Someone calculated that to see all the sights of Rome would require at least year. We had barely 5 days, so decisions had to be made!
Saturday, 8 November. Our day began very early and not without incident(s). The week before our second travel week had been hectic with a lot of project conferences for me and test reviews for Tim and student activities for us both. Although downloading pictures and writing blog entries to be uploaded at a later time may seem inconsequential and simply fun work, I was frustrated that I was behind in posting and that the fun part was only in the writing and not at all in the technology of the posting process, especially with a server ill-equipped to deal with nearly 100 students online and downloading huge files of heaven-knows-what! (Yes, that is a long sentence à la Wiliam Faulkner, but it is grammatically correct!) Despite being packed the night before and Tim taking wet laundry to the campus dryers (no clothes dryer in the apartment), we still felt rushed, and I hadn’t quite planned out an itinerary as I had with Liguria and Florence that had helped maximize our time. Not only were we going to Rome, but to Naples as well, and this time we were going for pretty much the entire week with little front and end times.
Unable to sleep, I got up at 4 am, hoping to finish some work before leaving at 5:45 to catch the 7:06 train to Padua, where we would get the Eurostar to Rome. For some reason, we were actually early and with little traffic arrived at Castelfranco station a little after 6. Ah, I thought; we can get some coffee at the Bistro across from the station. As we hauled the bags out of the Fiat’s trunk in the parking lot, Abbey looked up and said, “Do we have to have our passports?” Hearts sinking, Tim, Emma, and I answered “YES.” (Hotels, you may remember, are required to record passport documentation for all non-nationals.) “YOU FORGOT YOUR PASSPORT???” all three of us yelled to her. Okay, situation analysis required; cool heads needed; deep breaths. Emma and I would take all the luggage to the station; Tim and Abbey would drive, or rather speed, back to Paderno. It was a 30-minute drive by normal American standards; they would have to do it by Italian standards to return for the 7:06. As they sped off, I realized that the international drivers licenses were in my purse as we didn’t want to leave them in the car’s glove compartment. Tim didn’t have his license. Normale.
Thanking whoever invented luggage on wheels, Emma and I went to the train station with 4 suitcases, hoping against hope that the 7:06 regional to Padua would be late. Good chance it would be, we thought, since Trenitalia has about a 40% on-time record. As we sat in the warm waiting room, Emma decided she wanted to frank the tickets. The reserved Eurostar doesn’t require the machine franking, but the regionals do, which is what the ticket from Castelfranco to Padua was. I go for the tickets in my purse – no tickets. Can’t be, I thought; I put them in the night before with the passports. Then it occurred to me: I had taken them out to write down the train numbers, times, car and seat assignments for everyone in case we should get separated for any reason. While doing so, I had been sidetracked by who knows what. Great. I had the ticket information I wrote out but not the tickets. They were on the kitchen table.
Thankfully Tim had handed me his phone since Abbey carries mine. I dialed her in a panic. “Abbey, l think I left the tickets on the table; look for them when you go in for the passport.” “Okay; we’re almost there. Dad’s driving like an Italian.” Not what I wanted to hear, though in checking my watch, I realize that we might have a chance to make the train as a result. Emma is pacing, watching the electronic schedule. No sign that the train is running behind. At 6:35, Abbey calls: “We got them, tickets and passport. We’re on our way back.” Okay, we might pull this off.
6:50 I call Abbey. “Where are you?” “Just past the MacDonald’s by Iper,” about 10 minutes away. If they didn’t hit traffic and timed the lights well . . . . Emma and I, in a burst of optimism, lugged the bags to the track – thankfully our train came in on binario uno (track 1). 6:55, no sign of them and no ritardo light next to our train number. 6:59, I see Abbey running breathlessly into the waiting room; a minute later, Tim. At 7:03, the regional from Venice to Padua pulls in, right on time! Thankfully, we settle in our seats, hearts pounding. I looked at Abbey; she looked at me. We burst out laughing. “Well, I saved you,” I said, “and you saved me.” Emma just shook her head, probably glad that for once she had nothing to do with a potential disaster. Tim, however, was energized: he had experienced the Italian bloodsport of driving, as Frances Mayes termed it in her memoir. “I could that again,” he said, “Wow!”
Disembarking in Padua with a comfortable 15 minutes between trains, we boarded the crowded Eurostar, thankful for reserved seats for the 4-hour ride to Rome. Departure time of 8:00 came and went. Something was wrong with the engine, and the conductors were busy back and forth on the cars. By 8:35, we were finally on our way, noting that had we missed the 7:06 regional, the 7:20 would have gotten us to Padua in time to catch the Rome Eurostar! Of course, had that been the case, the Eurostar would not have been 25 minutes late. Normale.
The scenery through Tuscany and Lazio is beautiful, especially with brilliant sunshine. One of the perks of train travel is the ability to enjoy the views. Against a deep azure sky, the rounded green Tuscan hills are marked contrast to the imposing Dolomites and Alps of northern Italy. Fields of harvested corn, soybeans, and hay reminded us of the longer growing season here. Farms and vineyards nestle between small towns, though olive groves and orchards were now bare of fruit in early November. Tall, narrow evergreens create borders and wind barriers, mixing with chestnut and walnut trees. I kept thinking how much Jonathan would enjoy seeing this and comparing/contrasting it to the farms of Northeastern Pennsylvania.
Approaching Rome, the sky grew cloudy, then dark. Rain. Ugh, I thought. Rome is not a city to experience in the rain; thank goodness we brought umbrellas. An hour after schedule, we arrive at Rome Termini train station – 1:00 in the afternoon. And what a surprise – the station is a mall!! Well-designed, convenient, and clean, it has 3 levels of stores ranging from souvenir shops to really good food to bookstores and apparel. Following the directions from the hotel’s website, we easily find Hotel Serendipity, about 5 blocks from the station, down Via Marghera to Via Castro Pretorio. It’s in a beautiful old palazzo (palace), bigger than the one we had in Florence. (Already Abbey is wondering about mosquitoes.) At the gate to the courtyard, we see the buzzer to ring the hotel; the gate opens, and we make our way to the hotel entrance just off a beautiful garden with rain-drenched trees.
Our room is smaller than the others in Rapallo and Florence, but it is clean and comfortable with a good view of the front patio and gate. We unpack a bit for our 5-day stay and notice that the rain has stopped and the sun is once again shining. Wanting to explore the city a bit, we get the Roma Pass which, for three days, gives one free entrance to two museums (excepting the Vatican), reduced fees after the first two museums, and unlimited bus/metro transportation. We decide to use them beginning Sunday to carry us through to Tuesday as we were leaving Wednesday for Siena. Emma wanted to see the Spanish Steps, 2 metro stops from the Termini train station; that settled the itinerary for Day 1 in Roma.
So, off we went. Not quite as clean as the one in Paris, the Roman metro is efficient and prompt. Only real downside are the pickpockets. Crime in Italy is very low, as it is in all of Europe; however, petty pickpocketing is often a problem for unsuspecting tourists. One popular ruse is the woman with baby and child. Having reminded the girls to keep purses in front of them on the crowded metro, I noticed a woman moving throughout the car, holding a baby with a child in tow. Hmmmm, I thought. One does not walk around a speeding metro; one sits or holds on to the poles. She approached an older woman gabbing with a friend, her purse dangling. A man nearby taps the gabbing woman on the shoulder and nods to the pickpocket. Thanking him, she pulls her purse to her. I could have sworn I saw a look of disappointment in the pickpocket’s face; she exits quickly at the next stop. We have one more to go.
At Piazza di Spagna, we get off the metro and find ourselves facing the fountain and to our left, the famous Spanish Steps. No spring azaleas at this time of year, but the Spanish Steps still draws tourists and locals alike. Rome is full of people. There is never an off-season for this city. I spied the Keats-Shelley House, having forgotten at the time it was here. We visited this very small museum which has a large collection of first editions donated by people from all over the world. Keats died here, having come to Italy in hopes the warm mild climate would stave off the tuberculosis which he contracted from caring for his brother. It didn’t of course, in the days before antibiotics. Percy Shelley, angry at the bad reviews of Keats’ poetry, claimed that Keats died from them. Rome would have bad memories for Mary Shelley; not only did Keats die there, but her 3-year old son William did as well. Both were buried in the Protestant cemetery, along with Percy, who drowned later in the Gulf of Spezia on his way to Livorno, off the Ligurian coast. To this day, I wonder how she maintained her sanity with the deaths of 3 children, her husband, and friends, Keats and Byron.
After the museum and a pleasant conversation with the Italian-American attendant (born in Boston to American mother and Italian father), we climbed the Spanish Steps for a twilight view of Rome. Above St. Peter’s Dome in the distance, thousands of sparrows and starlings flew in patterned formations, looking like a funnel cloud one instant and an approaching thunderstorm front the next. It was a choreographed dance with moves synchronized from second to second. We stood amazed. A couple of weeks later, I learned from a report on the BBC that the migrating birds to Rome were in record numbers this year, to the extent that city officials began playing sounds of starlings in distress to discourage some of the birds from settling there. Bird poop was getting a bit annoying to some residents who carried open umbrellas on sunny days in some areas of the city!
Back to the hotel, we cleaned up and decided to eat close to home. Trattoria Gemma all Lupa, on Via Marghera, looked good and was! Our waiter, who answered our paltry Italian with good English, was not Italian himself, but Albanian. He was very nice and very apologetic for delivering Emma her Coca-Cola late and so didn’t charge us for it. We had a wonderful meal at very affordable prices, much more reasonable than Florence actually. After a shaky start that morning, we finished the day on a high note and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.
Sunday, 9 November. Sunny morning was cool at first but quickly became sun-warmed. Breakfast at Bar Jolly, compliments of the hotel. By the way, “bar” in Italy is not the same as a “bar” in the States; it’s a quick place to grab a morning espresso, roll, sandwich, and an afternoon glass of wine or beer. With maps and Roma passes in hand, we take the metro to the Ancient Centre to see the Colosseum, Palantine Hill, and the Forum. A 5-minute metro ride later, we are there. If Emma was the open-mouthed and silent one at Florence’s Duomo, it was I at the initial sight of the Colosseum. Looking at the map as we exited from the metro, I didn’t look up until right in front of this incredible ancient structure. Last – and only – time I had seen it had been at night, 20 years ago, in a bus with Widener merchandising students – a drive-by view at my request as we were returning from a dinner out on our last night in Rome.
Time seems to have stood still here in this spot. The age of the Republic; the age of emperors. History comes alive with every step. I imagine chariots on the car-bustling road and shouts from spectators within the giant walls of the Colosseum. Plays at amphitheatres; Roman senators and wealthy women bustling along the streets. A bus horn brings me back, as does the sight of an anachronistic “gladiator” in full dress talking on a cell phone at the corner tabacchi as he sips an espresso.
“Would you like a tour in English,” speaks a very British voice. A nicely dressed young woman stood before us. “We have tours with English speaking guides.” I wasn’t sure at first as many people tout themselves as guides but aren’t. However, she was clearly British and licensed; the deal seemed good as I had not done all the homework I usually did before travel times. We could use our Roma pass as well. We walked with her to join a group of Americans, Australians, and Brits for a tour with an English-speaking Roman. As it turned out, we didn’t need to use our pass and got in at a lower rate anyway. The tour was brief (1 hour) but good; we learned much about the history, myths, and facts. Christians weren’t fed to the lions or killed here; they were killed in the Circus Maximus however. Nero didn’t fiddle in the Colosseum while Rome burned; it wasn’t even built until after his death. Nevertheless, the Colosseum saw its share of violence with gladiators fighting to the death with each other or wild animals that had been caged and starved below the arena’s floor. There were women gladiators described by Juvenal. Equal opportunity brutality. All rather gruesome for a civilization with a legacy of brilliant engineering, government policies, and art (though much was borrowed from the cultures the Romans conquered).
As part of the tour and to encourage business for the company, we had a freebie tour of Palantine Hill with a British guide. One of the seven hills of Rome, the Palantine is closest to the Colosseum and offers a wonderful view of the Forum remains below. Here is the beginning of the Appian Way with the Lebanese Umbrella trees; the palace ruins of Domitian, one of the early emperors; the expansions by the crazed Nero; the simple lodging of Augustus & Livia; the hut of Romulus, for whom Rome is named; the varied colored marble of the Domus Flavia villa. The Palantine is serene, a perfect spot of a picnic lunch and good book.
The Roman Forum below has a surprising amount of structure left. The 3 columns, decorative Corinthian style, of the Temple of Pollux and Castor are exquisite. The Temple was a tribute to the twins who led the Romans to victory over the Tarquins (Etruscans). The statues in the Vestal Virgins Courtyard are not intact, but enough remains to give one a sense of their original beauty. We later found a “then and now” book of Rome that has transparent overlays of the structures during the Empire over today’s ruins. The Forum was the center of Roman life. Here citizens managed the political and religious affairs of the city. The Temple that Emperor Antoninus built 141 AD for his wife Faustina is remarkably preserved; 6 marble columns of its portico or overhang remain. Trajan’s Column, honoring the defeat of what is now known as Romania, is inscribed with the battle description.
By early afternoon, we were ready for food. Passing the Victor Emmanual monument that Mussolini once made his headquarters, we meandered to Piazza Argentina and enjoyed an outdoor lunch in the afternoon sun. From there, we strolled to the Pantheon and then to the Trevi Fountain, which evoked scenes from Three Coins in the Fountain, the movie that actually made it famous. In 1762, Nicola Salvi scuplted Neptune and two figures of Triton with seahorses, one calm and the other wild (2 moods of the ocean). Legend has it that the fountain is named for Trivia, a girl from ancient Rome who led thirsty soldiers to a spring. It was dusk at that time, and the fountain lights glimmered, almost eerily, as if we were all underwater.
On our way back, we met Courtney Bibbs, a University of New Hampshire student studying in Spain. Her hostel was near our hotel, so we met for dinner: Trattoria Gemma all Lupa again, this time eating outside to enjoy the pleasant evening. Only disquieting note was the news announcement that trains, metros, and buses would be on strike tomorrow – the day we planned to see St. Peter’s and the Vatican Museum. Normale.
Monday, 10 November.
We forfeited breakfast at Bar Jolly (not a great loss) and opted for sandwiches to go from the Termini (train station). Since neither the buses nor metro were operating, we decided to walk to the St. Peter’s metro stop where we were to meet our Palantine Hill tour guide; he would then direct us to Susan, our Vatican guide. Susan is American, with an art history or cultural anthropology (or both?) degree; she has lived in Rome for 8 years. Despite the assurances from a couple in our tour on Sunday, the walk from Termini station to the Vatican was not a 40-minute one, even with walking as fast as we did. (We won’t deduct minutes – and minutes– for picture taking!) After making a few wrong turns, welcomed for a meander but not for a timed appointment, we hailed a taxi. The gum-chewing driver was pleasant, and she readily understood my Italian. Whisking us over the Tiber via Ponte St. Angelo, she got us to our meeting point in plenty of time for a coffee/tea before connecting with our tour.
Susan was exceptionally knowledgeable with a wonderfully dry sense of humor. The Vatican Museum is incredibly huge; like the Louvre (and many other museums), it is impossible to see everything in a day. The double helix staircase makes one dizzy. Susan had studied much about funerary art and took us to the ancient Greek and Roman area and explained the rites and traditions of sarcophagi. The sculpted tomb indicates the person’s social place, familial relationships, and work. We looked at several art works with both Christian and classical themes. One work that stood out was a painting of a table that, although painted from an angle, looked the same on either side. Spooky. A bit like the eyes that seem to follow you no matter where you are. Many sculptures such as Apollo Belvedere were in excellent condition, though many others were broken (or had their private areas fig-leaved when the Church went through an art-unappreciation mode).
The Sistine Chapel was very crowded; good weather had brought many people to Rome. I had been here 20 years ago, when half of Michelangelo’s ceiling had been restored. Then we could take pictures. Now, with restoration complete, we cannot. Postcards will have to do. Funny that I remember the Chapel larger than it seemed this time. Nevertheless, Michelangelo’s work cuts to the soul; indeed much of his own is in it.
Susan left us at St. Peter’s Square, and we visited the inside of the church – very beautiful. However, for some reason it did not have a “spiritual” aura (not sure how to describe it) that other churches have had, Notre-Dame or Florence’s Duomo, for example. Its dome was designed by Michelangelo, although he died before it was completed. The Square itself, designed by Bernini, is spectacular with its symmetry and columns. Scenes from Dan Brown’s novel, Angels and Demons, kept appearing, to the point that I gave in and bought a paperback copy to reread while in Rome! The Vatican is its own entity, technically a part of Italy only by virtue of its geography. It has its own post office, government, and bank (rich, rich, rich!!). People can make an appointment to “see” the Pope wave from his apartment; we declined.
After a good lunch in a café off the Square, we walked back to the hotel leisurely. Emma discovered a beaver swimming in the Tiber, and she and Tim went to the edge to check it out. Evidently beavers made an agreement with Roman authorities not to build dams in exchange for a protected environment.
That night we met one of our CIMBA students, Mike, who had connected with one of his friends from home there. We enjoyed a great meal at Antica Birreria Peroni, known for its beer, good food, and mixing of locals and tourists. Since Mike’s friend enjoys brewing like Tim, the guys had fun exchanging successes and, well, not successes! We walked back together – a pleasant evening to view the lights and vibrancy of Rome at night.
Tuesday, 11 November.
Our hotel made us an appointment for the Borghese Museum in the morning. The strike now over, we took a bus there, fortunately estimating rightly where to get off (signs not clearly marked). The gleaming white villa shines amid the green of the gardens and shade trees. The Museum features many works by Bernini, in addition to paintings by Raphael and Caraveggio. Rick Steves aptly describes it as “Classical meeting Renaissance”; in fact, Scipione Borghese wanted to promote Renaissance art by depicted its value with the Classical works. His collection was enormous. Especially powerful is Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne.
The girls opted for some downtime, so Tim and I quite willingly set off for lunch alone and to explore the city more. We visited the church Santa Maria Maggiore, built in 402 AD and still possessing mosaics from that time. The church had been a refuge for many as the Roman Empire was collapsing. After, we had a pleasant lunch not far and did some shopping on Via Nazionale. Tim found a new suitcase, much needed as his old one had broken in London: a Delsey that matched one of the pieces we had purchased in Strasbourg, France 2 years earlier. Our hotel manager looked startled as we came in with the suitcase; she inquired where we had been and laughed when Tim said we need a bigger bag for all the souvenirs. That night we visited the Pantheon inside, meeting some folks from Australia. We had dinner on nearby Via dei Pastini where each ristorante was hawking its menu. Tim opted for one that featured fish; Emma and I didn’t care as the pasta was always superb! The heaters enabled people to enjoy an al fresco meal in November. Ahhh – Roma e la bella citta!
Wednesday, 12 November. Train to Naples.
Packed and ready for the train to Napoli, we said a sad goodbye to Rome. It is indeed grand.
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