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.

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.

Frankfurt to Munich to Paderno

We have been back in Paderno for five days now, and it feels good to be "home" again and not living out of a suitcase. The girls and I left Tim on Thursday morning and headed to Munich. The weather continued to be cold, cold enough in fact to dampen some of the planned walking tours we had discussed. Nonetheless, we visited Marianplatz to watch the 11:00 Glockenspiel performance and spent most of the day in the incredible Deutsches Museum, which has a science and technology focus. Amazing exhibits and information.

Saturday we went to Salzburg, Austria -- saw the "do-re-mi" steps of The Sound of Music and other sites where the film was shot or real places for the Von Trapp family. The castle was magnificent with views of the countryside, though the somewhat misty weather didn't help visibility in some directions. Perhaps most impressive is the cathedral, the Dom, which is quite different from the Duomos of Italy. Light, sandstone-like interior highlighted the artwork; while ornate in design, the whitish colors blended together, creating a soft, almost subdued ambience.

Sunday was Dachau, the prototype concentration camp for Nazi Germany. Although it wasn't technically an extermination camp as Auschwitz was, many people, mostly German political dissidents, were killed or died here. The museum and tour are well-done; the brutality of the Nazis are effectively, passionately documented without needless sensationalism -- of course, the acts themselves need no help in that area.

The bitterly cold nights kept us in our pleasant hotel room in the evenings or having dinner at cozy Italian restaurant a block from the hotel. Abbey and Emma agree with me that German food is not on the top of our food favorites, though the hotel's breakfasts were delicious with many choices of breads, cheese, meats, fruit, yogurt, etc.

Monday, we left Munich for Trento and then changed trains to Bassano, where a taxi picked us up to take us back to Paderno. Cold apartment. Brrrr. So we headed to the Tabacchi for some milk, bread, etc., while the apartment warmed up. Walking in, we saw the owner and said "Buona sera." She returned "Buona sera" and then looked up at us. Breaking out in a smile, she shook our hands, "BUONA SERA," she said again with emphasis, welcoming us back. Unfortunately, the apartment didn't warm up; the boiler was not working right. It kicked in on Tuesday night but died on Wednesday night. Thankfully Anna called someone in, and by Friday, we were warm and cozy.

I have met the new professors, two of whom have been here before. It should be a good group. We had a welcome dinner last night which was a lot of fun after a full day of seminars. Market in Crespano is tomorrow, and then the students arrive on Monday. I begin teaching on Wednesday!! Full classes this term! Abbey will be helping with some of the programs here, and Emma is ecstatic that she has another friend her age, actually two: Cassie (12) and Alex (10), brother and sister of one of the professors. Well, I'm off to go back home, get warm, and work on some Italian!!! Ciao!

From London to Frankfurt

Saturday, though continuing to be cold, was sunny with no wind. Tim and I explored a very different part of London -- Notting Hill, just on the other side of Kensington Gardens, just up Queen's Gate and our flat. The market on Portobello Road is like no other: antiques, junk, vegetables, pastries, mulled wine, teas, souvenirs, books, clothes of all sorts. And people. People from everywhere. We indulged in a cream-filled donut-type pastry that was coated with real chocolate (I don't want to even think about calories/mouthful!). On Notting Hill Gate Road, we stumbled across a hair salon and each had a much needed hair trim.

We sent Abbey and Katie to the market. After visiting the big cultural marvels, they needed to see this part of London as well. They returned hours later with good market buys, having had a great time, and then proceeded to get ready for an evening out at a dance club nearby. After enjoying an exciting soccer game between Southampton and Manchester United, Emma, Tim, and I returned to the local pub for a warming meal of chicken pot pie, mashed potatoes, steak, and I forget what all else. That night, we again splurged on British tv, catching some excellent mysteries.

Sunday was the coldest day yet. Emma, Tim, and I went back to the Museum of Natural History for a wonderful exhibit on dinosaurs and another one on sea life. He and Emma then did the Science Museum, also near the flat. I took Katie and Abbey to Windsor to see the quaint town and huge castle which is the Queen's favorite. Unfortunately, we arrived too late to tour the castle inside but were able to get some wonderful pictures outside. Many lovely shops, including one with Scottish wool products, tempted us, and yes, we succumbed.

Monday morning came too soon. We hauled our baggage to Gloucester Underground station, a few blocks away, to catch the tube for Heathrow. (We had decided to fly to Frankfurt to save time and money). Getting off for Heathrow Terminal 2, we said good bye to Katie who would go on to Terminal 5 for her British Air flight back to the States. Lufthansa had easy check in and kindly turned an eye away from our overweight bags. Our 11:45 flight was delayed about 3 hours because of heavy snow in Frankfurt, so we ended up arriving around 5:00 pm, a little after the time that the train would have come!!! So much for saving time -- though we did save money! A taxi brought us quickly to the Heissischer Hof where the UD Winter Session students are booked. A 5-star hotel with impeccable, warm service and gigantic rooms, this hotel is incredible, and we are thankful to be here at the greatly reduced rate UD arranged for the study abroad program (otherwise, we wouldn't be here!!!!).

The students arrived this morning; Tim and the other professor are with them on a brief tour of the city. The girls and I are going to explore a bit on our own and then indulge in some pampering at the spa here. It's very cold here (as in all of Europe) with about a foot of snow on the ground. After some walking to the Romer Cathedral and the restored timber-framed houses of Romerberg (destroyed during WWII), we will probably welcome the spa's sauna!

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S from LONDON

We rang in the New Year with fireworks over the Thames and a celebratory parade the next day. London is wonderful -- but soooo cold.

We met Katie at St. Pancras station and easily found our lovely Queen's Gate flat, so thankful that it's a first floor flat after 4th floor apartments in Siena and Paris and the 4-level in Cortona! (No complaints, save for knee aches, as all places have been fantastic!). After settling in and refusing to let jet-lagged Katie sleep, we enjoyed some fish and chips at a local pub.

On Tuesday, we finally got everyone rolling by late morning and walked to the Natural History Museum on Cromwell Road, a few blocks from our flat. Emma enjoyed all the rooms, especially the gemstones. The Star of South Africa, and 57 carat diamond, was awesome. Earthquake simulation room reminded us of why we don't want to live in California, and the volcano exhibit reinforced much of what we had learned from our visit to Pompeii. We didn't get to the sea area of the museum so will have to go back tomorrow. Most of the museums are free in London, so return trips are do-able. Abbey was determined to visit Harrod's -- as were London's 6 million inhabitants! I will never complain about King of Prussia crowds again!!! Whew! We had a wonderful dinner that night in a small restaurant on Bromley Road.

New Year's Eve day, we did the Hop on-Hop off bus tour with tickets good for 48 hours. Headed straight to the British Museum, rivaled only by the Louvre for size and collections. Incredible ancient world artifacts. Tim and Emma then did Ripley's Believe It or Not, while Abbey, Katie, and I shopped along Oxford Street. Window-shopped to be truthful!! Wonderful New Year's Eve celebration; we watched Elton John on the "telly" and the fireworks too. Abbey and Katie took advantage of the free tube to head toward Westminster for close-up views.

New Year's Day seemed appropriate for Westminster Abbey. Very informative and entertaining audio tour. Saw the Poets Corner!!!! Had some pub fare at Sherlock Holmes Pub after walking to the London Eye but declining to wait in the very long line. Emma was thrilled -- she hailed the taxi to take us back.

Today was the Tower of London after the bus tour of central London. The Yeoman Warder (Beefeater) who was our guide infused British humor with history. His delivery made me think he could also be a stand-up comedian. Late lunch at a pub in the City (old city of London); Abbey and Katie did the Globe and St. Paul's.

The Ligurian Coast of Italy: Rapallo, Cinque Terre, Genoa

[Late blog entry goes with #9 slide show]

Sunday, 5 October
We left our apartment at 6:45 am to catch our train for Rapallo – our first travel week, although we had already had a marvelous vacation week in France before arriving here. Most of the students had left for their destinations on Friday: Barcelona, Munich, Dublin, Vienna, Paris, Amsterdam, Athens were just some of the many places they were going.

We had opted for a slightly shorter stay on our first travel week (Sunday to Friday) and to locate in one spot: Rapallo, in the western coastal region of Liguria. On the Riviera di Levante (the rising sun), Rapallo is positioned nearly equidistant between Genova (Genoa) and the Cinque Terre. Despite being a resort town, it is less pricey than its famous neighbors, Santa Margherita Ligure and Portofino, and although Rick Steves downplayed it in his books, we found it charming.

The trip to Liguria went smoothly, and we enjoyed pulling just one small luggage piece/person rather than four each as we did in coming here!! The only frustrating part occurred on the line from Vicenza to Milano when we had to make do with a non-Italian/English/French/German speaking traveler who was in my seat and wouldn’t move, even after we and the Swiss couple next to him pointed out that he was on the right train and in the right seat BUT on the wrong day. Didn’t help that the Trenitalia attendant simply shrugged her shoulders and moved on. Normale. So Emma alternated between Abbey’s and my lap from Vicenza to Milano, a little less than a 2-hour train ride. We enjoyed talking with the Swiss couple who were from the Bernese Oberland and knew where Burgdorf was (the town where I lived in Switzerland). A young German boy and girl (brother and sister?) sat next to Abbey/Emma and me. All of us exchanged looks and laughs at the spiked coiffed, multi-pierced, dyed, tattooed boy (we thought it was a boy anyway) with the pants falling off the butt and who was thankfully getting off the train at Brescia. Shaking his head, the German boy whispered, “Ach, Italiano.” I was thinking more Martian than Italian.

At Milan, we bought some tasty panini and water for lunch. Our train came in early, so we were able to board and eat in the compartment. Just before departure, a young man joined us. We made introductions rather quickly after he opened a soda which promptly exploded over him and most of the compartment! After profuse apologies and thanks for the napkins we handed him, he introduced himself as Emanuel. Between our limited Italian, his limited English, and the Italian-English dictionary that we brought, we learned that he was a music major and was traveling to Genoa for rehearsal in Aida. He noted that in America the singers (pop) were wealthy and famous but often not good (as in musically trained); in Italy, not wealthy or famous but usually good. He invited us to see the show, but it won’t open until November.

Promptly at 2:30, we arrive in Rapallo. The temperature was warm – off came the coats needed that cool morning in Paderno. Sea breezes greeted us as we came out of the station and found the way to Rosabianco, our harbor-front hotel. Ten minutes later, we were there and were greeted warmly by the manager. Looking at Emma, he and the other manager conversed quickly; evidently they thought she was a toddler and had put a crib-bed in the room. With unnecessary apologies, they adjusted our junior suite, as it’s called – a family room: 1 double and 2 twins, plus a rattan couch and chair. The view of the harbor was wonderful – noisy, but alive and vibrant.

After unpacking, we wandered the town, showered, and headed for some dinner at Sapore di Mare, one of the many harbor-front ristoranti. Tim and Emma had seafood pasta, splitting a huge crab (a Mediterranean variant of a Dungeness crab); Abbey took advantage of the famous Ligurian pesto with pasta and green beans; I had pasta with clams. YUM! Wine was a Merlot, courtesy of nearby Santa Margherita. After strolling the harbor under moonlight, we found bed welcoming.

Monday, 6 October – The Cinque Terre
Following a satisfying hotel breakfast of tea/coffee, freshly squeezed juice, croissants (sorry, not quite as good as the French ones), ham, cheese, yogurt, and assorted Italian pastries, we took a look at the slightly overcast sky (forecast had been sunny – normale!), but Emma decided we should do the Cinque Terre this day. So we prepped with backpacks, sneakers, some layers, water bottles, and off we went to the train station to purchase tickets for Monterosso, the northernmost of the 5 towns that are linked only with the mountainous trails. Beginning with the most difficult hike first made sense.

On the train, we met a very nice couple from San Francisco, touring Europe for 3 weeks. She’s a kitchen/bath designer; he’s a police officer. They were headed to Vernazzo for 2-day stay and having come from Burgundy, France, where they spent several days in Beaune, one of the two Burgundy towns I planned to see on our way to the UK in May. They loved Beaune, finding this small town with lots of vineyards friendly and accommodating. So, instead of Dijon, we will stay in Beaune. (Mental note made!)

Fifty minutes later, we alight at Monterosso. After Emma gets her feet wet in the warm sea and Tim gets a tourist map, we begin what we think is the Cinque Terre path – but no, it is a scenic tour of the ups and downs of Monterosso. “It’s a warm-up,” exclaims Mr. Pollyanna Tim. My legs were thinking “worn out” not “warm up”! At long last, we discover the trail’s start. Beginning the climb out of Monterosso, we meet several hikers coming down the twisty stone steps. Smiling sympathetically, they remark that we have only begun the climb and pat us on the back, much like a warden would a condemned person at his last supper. Not a good sign. What have I gotten myself into, I think as Emma and Abbey bounce on ahead of us. The answer came quickly: some out-of-breath climbing and knee-stress that disappeared instantly with the sensory experiences with which this area rewards its visitors.

The Cinque Terre is the name for five coastal villages in the southern end of the Liguria region: Monterosso, Vernazzo, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore. Linked only by sea, rail, and footpaths, the villages have retained the flavor of life as it has been for years. Only until fairly recently has the area become a draw for tourists. The hiking trail that links the towns crisscrosses up & down the mountain sides. Ancient stone steps, dirt paths, gravel, and even large rocks comprise the path which varies from pleasantly level to breathlessly steep with hundreds of steps; it can accommodate two to three abreast in one section, but the next bend is so narrow that only one person can barely pass through. At times, the ledged paths are devoid of the usual olive or lemon trees, offering dizzying glimpses of the rocks and water below. At those times, I hugged the mountain’s side!

Neither pictures nor words can do justice to this place that time has left unsullied. Between the towns, the mountains meet the sea vertically, no sloping descent. Jagged rocks form the shoreline, sharpened continually by the crashing waves. The Ligurian sea is a myriad of colors, deep blues here, aquas there. In the distance, the clouds darken, and rain sweeps over a fishing boat far off the coast. In a matter of minutes, the clouds move on as sunshine again envelopes the boat. Mixing with the refreshing sea air is the cool, sweet smell of lemon trees, their pervasive fragrance whetting the taste buds. Terraced plots of olive trees with tied orange netting for the harvest later in the fall appear at nearly every turn of the path. It’s tempting to pick a black one – until I remember that unprocessed olives are bitter. Some of the terraced areas are vineyards full of grapes. The Ligurian climate is temperate; unlike the cooler Veneto, leaves have not yet begun to change here, and the growing season is noticeably longer.

We stop frequently, to catch our breath yes, not only from exertion but also from what we see all around us. The hike from Monterosso to Vernazza takes about an hour and 45 minutes of rather intense ascents and descents. We welcome the sight of Vernazza and find the walking down to this harbor town nearly as exhausting as the climbing up and out of Monterosso. Following the trail signs through the narrow stone sidewalk, we smell the noon dinners cooking in the houses whose windows and doors open directly to the alley and the neighbors on the other side. The sidewalk twists down many steps and slopes before ushering us into the piazza filled with shops and people.

We make our way to the harbor which Emma has already explored and has picked our place for lunch – outside by the harbor. It’s perfect. We order pizzas with the incredibly delectable pesto sauce and take in the view. Rick Steves must have liked it here for his picture with several of the waiters (including our own) is on the wall of the indoor part of the restaurant. Re-fortified and armed with some postcards from one of the touristy shops, we leave Vernazza for the slightly less grueling hike to Cornilgia, the only town that has no harbor as it sits high on the edge of the mountain.

Spotty rain cools us off as we find the trail rather challenging, but as always, rewarding. Along the way, we meet many people: British, American, Germans, Austrians, Australians, and Swiss. English is usually the common language. In fact German-speaking people here in Italy use English as they don’t often know Italian and Italians (save for those of the Trentino and Alto-Adigo region) don’t know German. The Swiss, of course, speak 4-5 languages fluently as French, German, Italian, and Romanish are the 4 national languages. We don’t notice any French- or Spanish-speaking people. Evidently there’s a bit of a cultural rivalry between the Italians and the French with regard to wine, food, language, and art. Me? I’ll take them both!

Corniglia is asleep when we arrive – siesta time. As the quietest and most remote of these towns, it has no stores or cafes open in the late afternoon, although we thankfully found a gelateria open and had some wonderful gelato! The clouds get a bit darker and the sprinkling rain harder, so we decide to postpone the last two hikes, the easiest and shortest ones to Manarola and Riomaggiore, for another time. We climb down the 300 brick steps from Corniglia to the train station and buy return tickets to Rapallo.

Now, Abbey and Emma were quite familiar with these steps. They had walked ahead of us on the trail and rather than turn off for the town, they kept following the trail signs which, of course, leads them down the 300 brick steps to continue the trail past the train station and on to Manarola. When Tim and I got to the town, we were surprised to not see the girls. Cell phone rings: it’s Abbey.
“Where are you?’ she says.
“In town,” I reply.
After a lengthy pause, “There’s a town?”
“Yes,” I answer, “where are you?”
“Looking at the train station. We just came down all these steps. A LOT of steps. You can’t miss them.”
I look around and see no steps at all. I quickly consult the guide book; ah ha! I knew where the girls were, and I also knew that if they wanted the gelato, they would have to climb UP all those steps.
I call Abbey back: “Here’s your choice: climb back for some gelato, or wait for us there,” I told her.
In about 10 minutes, Abbey and Emma appeared at the top of the steps, annoyed with the situation but unwilling to sacrifice gelatto. Emma particularly was uncomfortable as she had had to go to the bathroom (no toilets on the trail) and used nature’s accommodations; in the process, she somehow did not quite get her pants out of the way. Ahem. She was happy to change back at the hotel!

After cleaning up and enjoying a hot shower on weary muscles, we had dinner around 8, again at Sapore di Mare, and collapsed in bed directly after!

Tuesday, 7 October – Santa Margherita Ligure
Under deadlines to submit psychology and political science homework, Abbey decided to spend most of the day doing schoolwork. After we all had breakfast, Tim and I searched for an Internet Point as they are called here (no café, darn it!) so that Abbey could post her work. We checked our mail and caught up on the depressing economic news; then we explored a bit of the town. Emma, starving as usual every 2 hours, ate a cheese foccaccia, and the three of us headed off to Santa Margherita Ligure, a 5-minute train ride away.

Much like Rapallo, Santa Margherita thrives on tourism; it is smaller and quieter than Rapallo with an extensive harbor life, not only for the locals but also the rich and famous, at least the rich and famous who can’t afford neighboring Portofino! Statues of Christopher Columbus, Andrea Doria (16th century general), and Mary dominate the center waterfront.

We were reminded that we were in Italy when trying to find the tourist center to get a town map. Following the signs from the harbor, we ended up doubling back around to the very street we had been on, with the tourist center behind us – but no signs so indicating such. Mentally map this: signs direct us east 2 blocks, then north 3 blocks, then west 2 blocks, then south 2 blocks. Yep, you got it: we’re just about back where we started. Normale.

More postcards; some hot tea at a café, nice for this overcast and cool day; then back to Rapallo. I was feeling tired and chilled – some kind of short-lived virus – and crawled into bed for the night. Abbey posted most of her work, and she, Emma, and Tim did Chinese that night. Chinese in Italy?? Not for me! Hard rain during the night but warm temperatures. We weren’t sure how to plan the next day.

Wednesday, 8 October – Genova (Genoa)
Dreary skies decided the day: rather than return to the Cinque Terre, we decided to go to Genoa. Emma was interested in the aquarium there, plus there was an art museum that I was interested in. After buying roundtrip tickets, we waited a bit for the train and people-watched, an interesting pastime no matter where or when.

The ride to Genoa was about 40 minutes and mostly along the coast, the view of the Ligurian Sea interrupted often by the tunnels through the coastal mountains. We got a map from the Information Center; thankfully, unlike Santa Margherita, it is located in the Genoa train station and not on a back street that required us to have a map to find the place that gives us a map! Dark clouds gave way to rain; at least we remembered the umbrellas.

The Genoa Aquarium is located on the harbor, about a 15-minute walk from the train station. The largest in Europe, it has a rainforest area plus a hummingbird room – Mom, you would love this!!! It is also very active in environmental issues that concern sea life. Although we enjoyed everything, the seals and dolphins were the most amusing. Both are incredibly playful and full of personality. The Aquarium has 3 dolphins, one of whom is a ham. She would come right up to the class and look at us, chatting away. They are not performance dolphins, as the Aquarium doesn’t believe in dolphin shows, but the animals loved to play with rings and balls that were in the viewing tank. They have access at any time to two other large tanks that we can’t see but were clearly as amused by us as we were of them and so spent their time in the viewing tank.

After about three hours in the aquarium, we had a quick bite to eat outside as the sun was now out, drying the streets. Genoa is an interesting city: a blend of old history and new business; dark, sinister-looking alleys as well as neatly-paved cobblestoned walks. A port city, it’s seen its share of seediness; even the guidebooks don’t recommend an outing after dark in some areas. However, on a sunny afternoon in the historic area near the Aquarium and harbor, Genoa is energetically alive and bustling.

One ticket for 6€ got us into 3 museums: Palazzo Rosso (Red Palace), Palazzo Bianca (White Palace), and Testi. Interesting very early Renaissance paintings, many of which were dark with little perspective. Emma was particularly curious about the numerous representations of John the Baptist being beheaded at the order of Salome. We did see Paganini’s famous violin, the subject of short opera we saw in Wilmington last year. The palazzi (palaces) were beautiful in and of themselves with courtyards full of statues and gardens. We were able to go to the roof of the Palazzo Rosso for a panorama of Genoa. The guide there was fluent in English, and we enjoyed talking with him for awhile. As the museum, even with the self-guided tour, took longer than we thought, we missed the earlier train we had planned to take back to Rapallo. We just made the 6:00!

Dinner at O Basin, which despite its French-sounding name, is quite Italian. Good food and wine, lots of locals, reasonable prices. We enjoyed an evening stroll along the bay – almost a full moon!

Thursday, 9 October – Rapallo Market; Ferry Ride to Portofino and San Fruttuoso Abbey
Market day in Rapallo. Uh oh, we’re in trouble! People from neighboring towns crowded the vendors’ vans and trucks that encircled the harbor walk and extended south down the road to Santa Margherita.
This market is a bit more upscale than the ones we have been to in Bassano and Crespano, but good buys could be found. For Emma, some needed socks and a fun bag to take things back and forth to campus; for me, some lovely Italian scarves for both warmth and fashion; and for Abbey, an incredibly beautiful dress for CIMBA’s next Gourmet Dinner. Tim didn’t buy anything; he kept his eyes on the multitude of sailboats in the harbor, none of which, unfortunately, was at a bargainable market price!


Lunch at a nearby café, and then on the ferry for a ride to San Fruttuoso Abbey, on the other side of Portofino. Another beautiful day – the colors of sea and sky and mountains were brilliant. This ferry stopped at Santa Margherita, Portofino (where most of the passengers – German tourists – disembarked), and finally to the San Fruttuoso Abbey, a picturesque cove accessible only by foot or ferry. We didn’t have much time before the last ferry returned to Rapallo, but we explored the late medieval site and the pebbly beach. The Abbey’s main building was built by the Doria family in the 13th century, as was the Doria Tower. The area evidently has had a checkered past: it has been a monastery, a shelter for fishermen, and a secret hideout for pirates. Relics discovered during recent renovations revealed early medieval settlers and even Muslim remains.

Emma tried out the water temperature here, finding it warm enough that she wished she had brought a swimsuit. Trying to hurry picture-taking Abbey, we made our way back to the ferry and headed back to Portofino, where we picked up the large group of German tourists who had got off there on our trip down. It was there, in Portofino’s harbor, that we discovered how many of those tourists knew English. Emma, still absorbed with the aquarium from the day before, was enamored with all the jellyfish in the harbor. Excitedly she pointed to one, exclaiming, “Look at that jellyfish with the testicles.” Laughter erupted. Oh dear – wrong “t” word. TENTACLES, Emma, TENTACLES. Bit of a difference.

Back at Rapallo, we had dinner at the best restaurant yet, whose name, naturally, I forget – but I do remember where it is located – on Via Milite Ignoto, one block from Piazza Pastene! It featured some Piedmont wine which was incredibly delicious with my steamed mussels in herbs and the fresh linguine with clam sauce steeped in basilica (basil). Emma was happy with her Ligurian style hearty soup/stew, as was Abbey with her pesto-drenched pasta and green beans. Tim ate Italian, enjoying the traditional number of courses: for antipasti, thinly sliced meat; for primo patti, pasta; for secondi, sardines (no, nothing like those awful salty things in the tins!); for dolci, tirimisu followed with espresso!


Friday, 10 October – Montallegro Abbey, Rapallo and Back to Paderno
In typical Italian fashion, the weather, which was supposed to have been stormy and rainy from a front off the Atlantic, was instead sunny and warm, allowing us the opportunity to take the cable car up to Montallegro Abbey, high above Rapallo on Mount Leto. The ride up afforded some close-up views of the terra cotta–roofed homes surrounded by gardens and small vineyards on the mountainside outskirts of the town; the panoramic view grew more incredible the further up we went. The tree-dotted mountains are steep and jagged, not rounded as they are in Pennsylvania; valleys cut into them unexpectedly, appearing suddenly from a mass of evergreens and disappearing just as suddenly. The vertical slabs of mountain that reach to the sea remind me of why the train goes through so many tunnels along the coast. Turning from the forward view of the approaching Abbey, we see behind us Rapallo and the Ligurian Sea; it’s not long before Santa Margherita and Portofino are clearly visible, as is the point jutting out to hide the San Fruttuoso Abbey. Looking south, we can follow the coast line nearly to Sestri Levante, beyond which the towns of the Cinque Terre lay hidden in the haze and distance.

The Montallegro Abbey is the guardian of Rapallo. According to the legend, a 16th century peasant named Giovanni Chichizzola had fallen asleep on this spot one hot summer day as he was returning from Rapallo’s market to his village on the other side Monte Leto. He had a dream vision that Mary visited him, telling him that the small Byzantine iconic painting of her that she left as a token of her love for Rapallo. When he woke, there was the picture by a flowing spring that had never before been seen. At first, the people put the picture in the town’s church; however, the picture disappeared during the night only to be discovered the next day by the spring on the mountain. Understanding that Mary wanted her gift to be housed on the mountain, the Montallegro Abbey was built and completed in 1559. The spring became famous for its healing waters, and Rapallo enjoyed prosperity. However, in 1574, Greek traders, worshipping at the Abbey, recognized the Byzantine picture, saying that it belonged to his town and that it had disappeared mysteriously about 17 years ago. A court hearing granted the picture to the Greeks, much to Rapallo’s dismay. On the second day at sea, the traders discovered the picture was missing; an “angelic transport” had returned it to the Abbey, where everyone agreed it should remain.

The Abbey itself has an incredibly ornate interior, as some of the pictures reveal, although the outside is simple and classic in form. We listened to a short service, marked by a woman chanting harmonious melodies in between congregation recitations and priest’s readings.

We met a fun couple from Denmark on the lift up; they were travelling with their 4-year old daughter and baby son. He grew up on a dairy farm; she, on a pig farm. He spent some time in the States, and she in the UK, so their English was impeccable. We enjoyed chatting with them and sharing concerns about the economy and political situations all over.

Needing to catch a 12:30 train back home, we left the Abbey around 11, collected our luggage, and walked to the station, deciding to buy some sandwiches and water to have on the train. The panini store’s owner was an entertainment act all by himself! He wanted to sit and eat (not good to eat on the run, he protested!), though we didn’t have time, and he insisted we sample each cheese and/or meat that we had requested on the sandwiches – just to make sure it was “ok.” He is travelling to Philadelphia in December, he said; unfortunately we won’t be there to see him!

Other than a long delay in Milan that made us miss our Vicenza-Castelfranco train, we had an uneventful ride home. It was good to get in on a Friday evening and have the weekend to get ready for the school week and take care of some business at home. Abbey finally caught the cold that Emma and Tim had had a few weeks earlier, so she hibernated Saturday and Sunday.

The weekend was pleasant, but once in awhile, a warm breeze would waft in the open windows and remind us of the wonderful sights of the Ligurian trip that suddenly seemed ages ago.

Italy: Here We Come! Here We ARE!

[See ITALY: HERE WE COME! HERE WE ARE! link for pictures.]

Tues., 2 September - Wed., 3 September
Mon. Dalac kindly called us a taxi for our 1:17 train to Angers. Saying a fond goodby to the town and to the Dalac family who made us feel so at home, I at least wanted to stay just a bit longer. We felt we made such good friends there.

Wiser about how to maneuver the luggage, we quite easily made the connections from Saumur to Angers, from Angers to Paris (on the TGV), and with the help of TWO taxis, from Montparnasse station to Bercy for the overnight Trenitalia to Venice.

The small Bercy station was busy, but we waited only about an hour until we could board the 6:55 (18:55) train. Of course our car was the last, and of course I hit the only “pot hole” in the concourse spilling the luggage on the push cart! C’est la vie, n’est-ce pas?

Our couchette provided lots of luggage space and cute bunks for slipping. The attendant for our car was very pleasant; it was an Italian staff. He didn’t seem to know much French but did speak limited English. We left on time, and the attendant collected both tickets and passports. Tim and I shared some wine as the girls lounged on the top bunks, all of us enjoying the scenery for the few hours before dark.

I’m not quite sure of the route, but it was different from the one I took 20 years ago when we could see the Alps at 5:30 in the morning. This time we must have gone through Dijon, for we had a middle of the night (actually about 3:00 am) stop in Brig, Switzerland, from which one could normally see the Matterhorn, at least in daylight!

We cleaned up a bit and began looking at some familiar names along the Milan-Venice line: Verona, Padua, Vicenza. We stopped briefly at each one, which made me wonder if we could also stop at Mestre, where Renato, our CIMBA taxi driver would pick us up, rather than follow our tickets which had us go into Venice Santa Lucia station and take another train back to Mestre (5 minutes). We asked when the attendant gave us back our tickets and passports; he said yes. Mestre at 9:29!

So with very little aggravation, we unloaded the bags and waited by the Mestre station entrance/exit for Renato who was to pick us up between 10 and 10:30. Just outside was . . . . . . a McDonald’s! The menu a bit different, but Emma had some nuggets and curly fries and Tim had a Big Mac. He gave me a bit – much better than most of the typical McDonald’s fare. And the curly fries were great – not the least bit greasy. How do they do that?

While waiting, an incredible thunderstorm blew in. We were just outside the station under a 20-foot overhang, but we had to move back in a little because the wind took the rain sideways. Some incredible cracks and lightening bolts. It passed after about 15 minutes, and Renato shortly appeared. We loaded everything into the car (like a small SUV) and headed off to Paderno where Renato said the sun was shining. Sure enough, a few minutes outside of Mestre — sun!

Paderno del Grappa is about an hour car ride from Mestre/Venice. As we drove, we noticed a lot of construction – felt like Delaware!!! However, most of it involved building. Many roundabouts and few traffic lights, so we moved along quickly. Renato is a “normal” driver; that is, he does not fit the stereotypical Italian driver, at least with the taxi filled with Americans and their luggage!!

We got to campus around 11:00. Renato showed Tim the office while we stretched our legs. Then Renato came back and said he’d take us to the apartment. We figured Tim was coming too, but no. Okay, so perhaps he was doing some paperwork. The Orchidea (Ork-a-day-a) Apartments are about an 8-minute walk to the campus. Set in a lovely garden with unbelievable view of the Dolomites (pictures are coming, don’t worry!), we waited by the gate. Soon Tim comes, driving a Fiat Punto, our car! Marta (Italian) and Tommy (American) , both of whom are on the CIMBA staff, were with him; we commended them on their bravery for riding with him.

Marta takes us to our 2nd floor apartment – lovely. Though only 2 bedrooms (good size) much to Abbey’s dismay, it has a spacious living area with dining set that includes a small kitchen. The main bath separates the two bedrooms and the girls have a “powder room” off their room. Huge casement windows with functional shutters, a balcony off the living area, and another one that we and the other American family share off our second floor landing. Italian tile, naturally, and hardwood floors.

We unpack and begin to move things around a bit to make it fit our living style and to make it our home for the next 8 months. Lists begin of what we need. Constant “ahhh’s” each time we pass the windows as we view the Dolomites.

Feeling daring but feeling more hungry than anything, we set off to find a grocery store. Adam, another staff member and American, notes that most stores are closed on Wed. afternoon, although he thought that Crespano, a near by town had one open. So we braved driving (not as bad as I thought), only to find all closed. Off to Fonte, a little farther off, to a supermarket called Famila, where we stocked up with basics, some fresh fruit and veggies, and wine! It is so cheap here – I mean decent wine. $5.00 a bottle for a great Valpolicella!

Back at the apartment, we meet our neighbors: Scott and Judy with their 2 daughters Madeleine (12 going on 18) and Johanna, better known as Jo-Jo, who’s 10. Well, Jo-Jo and Emma promptly hit if off. They’re inseparable. About 7 every morning, Jo-Jo hops over the balcony railing and comes over. Emma is so funny; she informed us that Jo-Jo not only loves to dance and play cards like she does, but she also is “addicted” to chapstick. Never would have dreamed another kid would. Anyway, they are from Eugene, Oregon; Judy is an ESL teacher, and Scott is here for the journalism courses. We are so happy to have them as neighbors – and have already enjoyed a Prosecco with them.

Another storm rolled in, so we canceled plans to walk to the Pizzeria Ristorante just up the road and instead had spaghetti in olive oil, garlic, and fresh basil. Yummm! Tim was tired and went to bed early; so did Abbey. Emma and I stayed up to midnight and watched Under the Tuscan Sun on the computer!

Philadelphia to London (en route to Italy via Paris and Saumur)

[See PHILADELPHIA TO LONDON link for pictures]
Monday, 25 August was a crazy day as we checked and rechecked luggage, lists, bills, animals, monies, kids – and KIDS! Emma’s 4 closest friends had to come over after school (their 1st day) to say good bye to her before the airport shuttle picked us up at 4:45. The shuttle was 15 minutes early, and in our rush to headcount baggage (as well as close off contact with University of Iowa – which heads up the Italy program – another story there), I had visions of a Home Alone 2: we’d pack Kristen, Emily, Jaida, or Carolyn and leave Emma behind! Then we couldn’t find Abbey who emerged from a neighbor’s house in time for the 4:45 pick up but “late” for the 4:30 time!

Airport check-in goes smoothly, and our British Air flight for 8:55 boards and departs 30 minutes early, which, with a tailwind, gets us to Heathrow nearly an hour ahead of our 9 am arrival time. Breezing through customs and baggage “reclaim” as the Brits call it, we begin to experience the real downside of having to pack for 9 months abroad. All of us cried when we had to give up the luggage trolley at the airport door.

We raced to catch the Heathrow-Paddington Connection (train), which normally runs every 20 minutes but was not operating properly somehow today. (Yep, we’re here!) Following the train attendants’ motions, Tim, Emma, and I move to the next to last car; Abbey dives with 5 pieces of luggage into the closest one, 5 cars back from us. Hoping and praying this train doesn’t do a disengage as some do and Abbey ends up in Oxford or Dover, I make my way back to her to give her a ticket – just as the conductor came through. Other than that, the train ride goes smoothly.

At Paddington, we quite easily found our way to the hotel, about 2 London blocks from the station. The Ascot Hyde is rated 2 star; I suggest ½ star. Nice staff, but the building is undergoing renovation that neither is moving quickly enough nor is complete enough to address the issues of lifts to 4th floor (2 sq. inches), thin walls (ooo laa laa’s next door), and lobby space (1 sq. inch). We won’t discuss the marketing aspects: “Quad room with bathroom ensuite.” Full bath ensuite – yes; quad room – let’s just say, 3 beds (1 a double) were placed into a room made for 2 twins by Italian standard!!! But hey, it was affordable and close.

After cleaning up, purchasing a new piece of luggage to accommodate the little carryon’s, getting some good fish and chips, we explored Kensington Gardens. It was a lovely evening, and we enjoyed the stroll. When we come back to London for New Year’s week, our apartment will be on the other side of the Gardens in Kensington proper.

An early bedtime for jet-lagged people, but about 11 pm, we woke up thinking it was morning. For some reason all of us got the giggles – can’t even remember what it was about! Got luggage organized, hauling luggage down lift (piece by piece – remember the lift’s size!), had a nice breakfast with fantastic English tea, and then loading into the taxi for St. Pancras Station and the Eurostar.

With big bags checked (more $) on the Eurostar, we enjoyed another cup of tea in the station before boarding and going through EU customs. The station has been remodeled and is beautiful: clean, easy to follow directions, and just enough cafes for a short wait. The ride to Paris was pleasant; in just a little over two hours (same time to fly), we were Gare du Nord.

And here is where the horrors of baggage hauling begin. See “A Week in Saumur” post for details!!