I am positive about it.
Getting a little jumpy here at home...
|
|
0 Comments
We ended our trip where we began over six weeks ago: Milano. Instead of just passing through, we stayed a few days, and it was really worth it. Milan is wonderful cultural, interesting city, with a cool mix of modern and historical. Our home was the Hotel Berna (The Bear) which was close to Milano Centrale Station and the airport shuttle bus stop (at the train station). We spent our days walking into the historic center of Milan, or exploring the new more modern neighborhoods around us, and one great night watching the world cup final with a couple thousand of our closest friends. The Duomo di Milano, or Milan Cathedral, is a real highlight. You can spend a lot of time just walking around the building looking at the gargoyles and statuary, and the front facade is amazing and very famous. You recognize it immediately from photos. The coolest thing to do is go up on the roof, where you can wander around a marble forest of spires and buttresses, and stare down at the city. The Duomo Piazza is lined with cafés and shops, including the “world’s first indoor shopping mall,” the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. I am no fan of shopping, but this building is amazing, with soaring glass ceilings, beautiful tile work, and great people watching. It all comes together at the one end, where there is a tiled bull on the floor. It is tradition to step on his testicles for good luck, and many people spin on one foot as they do it. It is fun to try, and more fun to sit with a cup of very expensive coffee and watch others do it. And yes, I do have good luck. We wandered all around the streets and through the Parco Sempione, a relaxing green oasis on a hot and busy day. Down one main street I had probably the best falafel of my life, made by some recent immigrants in a small shop front. On another side street, just off the main paizza, I got the best wine and appertivos deal of the trip, when the waiter brought me an entire tray of every kind of snack to have with my one glass of wine. And I had simply asked, “Ciò che il vino mi consiglia? “ or “Which wine do you recommend?” He waited to see my satisfied smile, then bowed with a flourish. We didn’t get to see The Last Supper, Leonardo da Vinci’s painting (which you must book several months in advance) due to some restoration work at the time. But, to make up for it, we did get to see the final game of the world cup soccer championship. The Spanish were playing the Dutch team. We had been following the games all summer in the local bars, cheering with the crowds on sidewalks, and watching as huge screen TVs were built in the piazzas of every town. Milano was no exception, and the days leading up to the game became exciting, even though Italy was well out of it by now. The fans walking though the city were making their allegiance known by wearing the uniforms or colors, and in the evening impromptu chanting parades would form. We reserved a table, fronting the piazza, in a café right across from the TV. I mean this screen was about three stories tall and wide as a building. The evening of the game it was very hot and muggy. We settled in, ordered drinks, then a simple dinner of lasagna, and then as the game started we got a litre of wine and bottle of water. The piazza was packed, standing room only, with fans, and as the game went on the roar of the crowd was deafening. The riot police were set with their gear, and regular police forces started to fan out in the crowd. The cafes were all overflowing, and each had their own little TVs turned to the game as well, so the sound around and behind us was just amazing. The game almost ended at a zero-zero tie. The riot police bunched up, you could sense the tension in the air. For the entire second half, everyone was just so ready for something, anything to happen, that both sides cheered and booed madly on every single play, in unison. Somebody, somehow just had to score. So the game went into stoppage time. The crowd got louder, and it seemed as if everyone was on the same side now, just cheering at every possible scoring drive and cursing every single penalty (this game saw a record number of yellow cards) or botched play. So we just went with it. FINALLY…. With four minutes to go in extra time, Spain scored, and beat the Netherlands 1-0 to take the cup. Right as that happened and the crowd roared, the sky opened up and it started to pour! The thousands of people in the piazza dashed for cover, people crowing under the café awnings and umbrellas, until they got soaked from the dripping, and suddenly the game was over, the crowd dispersed, and the piazza was empty in the pouring rain. The police gathered, shook hands and left, the cafes slowly emptied, people having their last cup of coffee and walking or hailing a cab. We sat a while longer, then wandered over and scored a taxi for the wet ride back to the hotel. The next morning, over coffee, I read the headlines in the paper and relived the game. That day, when we returned to the square, the TV was already half dismantled, the trash gone from the night before, and the streets back to normal business as usual. We spent the last day café hopping, eating gelato and drinking cold Lemon Ice, and already missing a country we had come to love. It was a great way to end our trip. -July 2010 Verona was a bit of a let down. Perhaps it was because we had been to such spectacular places already. I am sure that the crummy hotel didn’t help; stay away from the Albergo Arena. That said, there were good parts to Verona: The Verona Amphitheatre is fantastic. Built of red stone in AD 30, it is in such great shape it is still used today, to stage plays and operas. The best passeggiata (night stroll) of our time in Italy was here in Verona. Talk about fashion on display, the girls wearing today’s hottest fashion walk the streets to catch a window-glimpse of tomorrow’s must – have items. We had so much fun people watching that we walked the triangle course three times. Better than the Via del Corso in Roma. A kind of cool fort with bridge across the river, the Castelvecchio is simple yet has good views and interesting architecture with crenelated walls. You know, the typical “up and down” pattern, so you could hide behind the “up” then shoot out from the “down.” One of the biggest tourist attractions is the totally fake Romeo and Juliet balcony, at Casa di Giulietta. So Shakespeare made up the whole story; who can fault the people of Verona from capitalizing on our love lost fantasies? There it is: a balcony in a side alley, where Juliet appeared. The poignant part is all the love notes and wishes that people tape to and stick into the brick walls. We had a wonderful dinner down by the river, at a small restaurant, the Trattoria Vecio Mulin, a place we just happened upon. I got the song “My Sharonna” stuck in my head, but changed it to “M-m-m-m-y Verona!” Bup ba budda bump, budda bump, budda bump. I could not shake it the whole time we were here. In Northern Italy, along the Austrian border, they speak a particular dialect of Italian, called “German.” This is the Südtirol, or Alto Adige region of Italy, and it contains some of the most beautiful mountains in the world: The Dolomites. They are so beautiful that the entire area is a UNESCO World Heritage Center, an area with outstanding universal value. The famous mountaineer, Reinhold Messner, grew up here, and his partner Peter Habeler is from just across the border. The people who live here are bilingual, German and Italian, as the border has shifted several times over the years. The signs, menus, everything is in two languages. This made it really easy for us to get around, as I speak German, and my Italian was getting better day by day. We took the train to the city of Bolzano – Bozen, where we caught a shuttle bus that took us about 20KM up, up winding roads into the mountains and dropped us off in a small municipal parking lot in Castelrotto – Kastelruth. I will just use the Italian names from now on, since we are on an Italian vacation. Castelrotto is a pretty little town, maybe six thousand people, with a very pretty church and bell tower, great views over the surrounding countryside, and some stores and restaurants which all close early in the evening so you can turn in and be refreshed for the next day hiking. It is at an elevation of about 1060 meters (3500 feet). Because that is what there is to do here: hike and climb, then ski in the winter. We stayed in the Hotel Cavallino d’Oro, and ended up eating most of our meals here as well, because we could get a “late” dinner service at about 20:00. One night when we were out walking the quiet, dark streets we did find a small place open, or maybe they were closing up, but left the lights on by mistake, because they only had coffee and dessert available. We had a great apple strudel sitting outside by candlelight. Our room had a balcony full of red flowers and a great view over the surrounding farms and up to the grey peaks in the distance. The hotel itself also had a sauna, so we booked it every evening we stayed, and what a treat that was after a day of walking. I fell asleep in the “cooling off” chair the last evening there. Well, we were up early, ate a hearty breakfast, then took the free shuttle bus to the next town over, Seis am Schlern, where we boarded a huge cable car that carried us about a thousand meters higher to the lift station at Compatsch. From here we hiked a little ways and took another chair lift up to the Panorama station, where we really began our hike. We were walking in the great meadows of the Alpe di Siusi, or Seiser Alm area. The meadows rise and fall, but you are about 1800 to 2000 meters up (5900-6600 feet elevation). The paths are easy to follow, and well marked with arrows that not only have trail numbers, but they are color coded as well. You can hike the uphill sections, or take lifts. It was like walking in a sea of wildflowers, more than I have ever seen, a wall to wall carpet of them as far as we could see. We came around one corner and head downhill into a slight valley, when we heard accordion music. It was like a soundtrack to a 1950’s movie. As we cam a little further around, there, sitting by the side of the trail, was a kid on the accordion with his basket out for tips. (Yes, we tipped him.) A little further on were some local kids selling rocks. Black rocks, like the ones on the ground all around us. (We bought one and donated it back further down the trail.) There was a herd of horses grazing peacefully; when they got spooked they were suddenly running, manes blowing as they effortlessly glided up and over the hillside like water. Groups of cows, bells jingling, on the trail and grazing alongside, and best of all, every couple of kilometers was a hut, with full bar and restaurant, and beds for rent. So we just walked and walked, soaking in the sights, and anytime we started to get a little thirst or hungry or tired, there was a hut! And we’d stop in, grab a drink or some food, then set out again. It was effortless to cover 20 or 25 kilometers. A series of lifts and shuttle busses got us home again. Gail spent a spa day, while I went climbing with a local guide. I wanted to do a via ferrata route. Via Ferrata means “iron road” and it is a sort of sport climbing where all the protection is there for you: wire cables, rebar steps and anchor points. All you need are climbing shoes, a harness and perhaps a helmet. I mountaineer at home, and have the equipment, but I hired a guide for two reasons. First, I did not want to carry any equipment with me for six weeks, just to use it for a day or two. It is too heavy and bulky for my carry on pack. Second, we did not have a car, and I knew it would be a problem trying to figure out the public transportation to the climbing sites. I went climbing with this company. The guide was great, and we got along well. The cost was very reasonable for a full day of climbing, though I have to admit that I was a little disappointed by the challenge of it. We were clipped in for “climbing” sections that I would not even think twice about free-climbing at home. In fact most of the route I would grade 5.4 at the hardest, with maybe the toughest section a 5.5 due to exposure. Still, it was a fun day with great views. There was a second client, a girl from Barcelona, so we did well with a mix of English, Italian, German and Spanish. We set out to climb Mt. Sciliar (the Schlern) which is a famous and prominent peak at 2563 meters (8400 feet). The peculiar shape is an emblem of the region, and that combined with the elevation causes it to create (stormy) weather patterns. So, of course, in Medieval times people thought that it was an evil gathering place for witches, who came from all over, flying on their broomsticks. In the day, nine women were sentenced to death as they were said to be witches and weather makers. Today the witches and their broomsticks serve as a kind of regional folk art thing. I am happy to report we made it to the top and back without being burned at the stake. We spent another long day hiking over to the town of Seis am Schlern and then the Alpe di Siusi. One of these nights I had what is the most beautiful meal I have ever had, a wild boar ravoli covered in edible wildflowers from the meadows. See the photo below, or this blog post. We were walking around the town after dark, our last night there, when we noticed the door to the bell tower was open, and the lights were on. I wanted to go explore, Gail was kind of holding me back, but we just pushed on in and started climbing up the stairs. We walked right into a very small gathering of people, an artist was having a show. He is the sculptor, Erich Trocker and I really loved his whimsical wooden carvings of people, especially this one where the guy has a look on his face that says, “Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” I know that look. Another artist friend of his, Egon Dejori, was hosting the party. Well, they just welcomed us right in like we were family or perhaps big money buyers, and invited us to eat and drink with them. Egon especially was impressed that we could converse so fluently in a mix of Italian and German, and so he practiced his English on me while I worked on the other two languages with him. We spent a few hours talking, eating and just hanging out before it all broke up. The Dolomites are a region that is probably better known in Europe than in the US. It is probably the easiest, most fun, and spectacular hiking I have ever done. -July 2010 July 2010 We left Positano on the southbound boat to Sorrento, where we caught the fast train north to Roma, then connected out to Vernazza, one of the five villages on the Ligurian coast, just south of the Italian Riviera. We had just a little trouble on the train. I had learned the phrase, “Questo treno va a ______?” which means, “Does this train go to ____?” which comes in handy on the smaller, regional trains. But for some reason I was pronouncing Vernazza wrong. Maybe I got too much “t” or not enough “airrrr” in it, but at any rate people would look at me a little funny, look at each other, then nod yes, or point over a few tracks. Fortunately, I had written the town name on a paper, and once I showed this to a guy, well he smiled really big and “Si! Questo treno va a Vernazza.” And he made sure that we made the connection when the train came to a dead stop outside of a station, the lights turned off, and we were supposed to know to get off and walk over to the train on the next track. Cinque Terre means The Five Lands. It is a small, coastal region in northern Italy, near Genoa and Pisa, where there are five villages in five valleys, on the coast. It is pretty steep here, and no roads are in the area, so to visit you have to take the train, or take boats, or hike on paths, village to village. The towns are (south to north) Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare. The last two have pretty good beaches, all have access to the water and are the kind of stereotypical, pretty, multi-colored pastel towns you think of. We took the train into the fourth village, Vernazza, and planned to spend a couple days hiking from town to town. Our hosts were the Francamaria Rooms, and our room, called the Strâ de’r Mö, was a long, narrow room overlooking the ocean, cathedral, and piazza below. This turned out to be a really great thing on the third evening there. Our first full day there we took the train down to Riomaggiore, and hiked home. This was a really fun day. It’s not like it is hard hiking along the coast, except maybe the uphill section into Corniglia, which is perched up on a hill. But we stopped there in a nice, tree-shaded café for water, wine and a light pasta lunch. Each town has its own personality, and it was fun to wander and explore, and try to figure out what was special and unique about each place. Between the towns, the path went through vineyards, up and down along the coast, past high-rise graveyards, which kick you out after a hundred years or so to make room for the new arrivals, and past relics like WWII bunkers. The first part out of Riomaggiore is like the path of love. Via dell’ Amore is what this section is called, and it is paved and full of “love locks” and graffiti and so on. It takes you to Manarola, which is another pretty pastel town. Manarola to Corniglia is uphill, through vineyards. From Corniglia it was a long, downhill hike back home to Vernazza. We took the entire day just to walk this section, slowly, savoring it. That evening we were eating dinner, and a young Italian couple sitting at the table next to us were interested that we were from California. They pulled up next to us and before long we were sharing stories over our first bottle of wine. It turns out that they would like to visit California and ride Harleys on Route 66. They were surprised to find out that Route 66 goes across much of the United States. Well into our second bottle of wine, the waitress came round, and a really brief argument ensued between our new friends and the waitress. I caught part of it, but theyweretalkignsofastlikethisIcouldnotkeepup… soon another bottle of wine appeared along with our bill, which we paid. She locked up the restaurant, and we were let sitting alone, the four of us, at our table on the now dark street. The next day we started in Vernazza, and hiked north to the last town in the chain, Monterosso. The best beach in the area is in Monterosso, so that was our goal. And this last section of the hike is the longest stretch between towns. It was a hot, humid morning, and by the time we arrived we were ready to get our umbrella and loungers on the spiaggia and spend the rest of the day swimming and resting. Somehow we made a little time to explore the town before taking the train back home. We had time the next day to head north, to the Italian Riviera beach town of Sestri Levante. This was a nice little city, and the beaches were actually “clubs” of sorts, each with their own bars and regular clients who had the best places reserved. Still, we walked into one place and got an umbrella near the back, far from the beach but close to the shower and bar. The main difference was the price, much higher because of tourist season in a tourist type beach resort. Well, that evening when we returned, we discovered we had missed the Barbershop Quartet Convention. But, the quartets were all still in Vernazza, drinking and talking in the piazza, right below our room. As we showered and dressed, they would just break into song, some of the most beautiful and heart gripping music, sung in perfect harmony by octets of quartets. We sat in the window and just took it all in: the cathedral, the bay and beach, the piazza filled with people singing along to the professionals… and soon we were down in the piazza, trying to sing along on the choruses as well. It was a magical evening. This was in July, 2010.
In October 2011 they suffered a devastating flood. It is heartbreaking to think of. Read about it here. They have since rebuilt, and I look forward to going back one day. |
I have switched my recent travels to InstaGram, simply because it is easier to post photos and videos.
Click the button below to follow. Archives
January 2024
Categories
All
AuthorThis is me, at home in Northern California. like the photos?
Please credit me, and link to my website. please note:
This website is best viewed on a desktop or laptop computer. |