Beau guaranteed that we would have a great time with Connor and Griff, and he was right. We've only been home a week and a half and already I miss it.
It's been a long time since a trip went so smoothly: the only hiccups were the apartment switch in Venice and Griff referring to me as a "tourist" but both ended up being just fine. No lost luggage, no insane drives seeking a hotel, great weather, not too short or worse- too long.
I hope the only regret C & G have is not purchasing gondolier outfits - black pants, horizontally striped shirts and beribboned straw hat - to wear on their first day back to school. Or anytime, really. I did my best to encourage them, but no luck.
lemon on steak
yeah yeah yeah
sketchy
blurting out any random non-english word does not make you multi-lingual
We really enjoyed spending this time with Connor and Griff and getting to know
them. It was great watching them becoming a travelers, not tourists - people who can move in the
world with confidence and respect and curiosity. Mission accomplished.
안전한
여행. (That means "Safe Travels" in Korean)
Click here to go to our Photo Album
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Arrivederci, Italia
Tuesday
Our last day! As we had a full schedule, we were up and out by 10:30 or so - Connor fixed pancakes and Ben went out for pastries at a bakery he stumbled upon during his morning walk. (During which he got turned around and ended up following some gondoliers on their way to work - once he got to the canal he took the vaporetto back.) The pain au chocolate were not Paris-level, but they were good, and brought back nice memories of our trip last May with Kelsey and Carly.
Our first destination was the island of Murano, famous for the glass we have seen and admired all over Italy. We took the vaporetto and after a somewhat rough ride on the big water we arrived at the stop where the Museo del Vetro (Glass Museum) is located. With help from some locals, we found it and went in. The first gallery was filled with small bottles, tubes and shards, most of them from the first century. While attractively displayed in artistically arranged hanging cubes, once you've seen one bottle you've pretty much seen them all. Connor and Ben feigned sophistication and interest by s-l-o-w-l-y looking at each cube while Griff and I rolled our eyes and hoped for something better in the next room.
Well, that hope was unfounded, and we whipped through a display intended to show the progression from cloudy to clear glass. Yawn. Then there were some examples of hideous centerpieces, one so big that if Griff ever does live in a Doge-size palace it might work. Finally, we got to a gallery that had some cool stuff, but really not anything more spectacular than what we'd seen in the shops. We watched part of a glassmaking video - and I will say that the monitor had a spectacular glass frame - then left to go to the glass-making factory.
It was closed. We decided to shop until the vaporetto came, and this decision turned a completely lame expedition into a huge success, as Griff found the perfect souvenir, one he had been looking for from day one. Sometimes it is the small things...
We hopped back on the vaporetto, or "evaporator" as some of us called it, and headed back toward San Marco. By the time we got there it was about 2:00, so we decided to do Harry's Bar for lunch. What an experience! Opened in 1931, and frequented by Ernest Hemingway so often that he had his own table during the winter of 1949 -50. Here he wrote much of "Over the River and Into the Trees" - and Harry's Bar is mentioned many times in the novel.
As soon as we opened the door, we were greeted by a white-jacketed waiter, who inquired if we were there to have drinks or lunch. We told him lunch, and we were escorted to the last empty table - the place is very small, only about 15 tables or so. It feels like you are on a boat, but not just any boat - a yacht. It was easy to see why Hemingway was so comfortable there, given his fondness for his own boat, The Pilar. It's all white tablecloths, golden wood and glowing lights inside, but the atmosphere is relaxed, not stuffy. And the service is impeccable!
Everyone ordered a Bellini - the iconic cocktail invented here. WOW. I've had a Bellini before, but nothing like this. White peach puree, prosecco...perfection. Even Ben, who never likes drinks like this, enjoyed his. While we perused the menu, our waiter brought us each a roll that was flaky outside, tender inside. It didn't need anything but none of us could resist the tiny cubes of butter in a glass dish on our table. Then a basket of regular bread and house-made grissini appeared. I am almost embarrassed to say that it had to be replenished pretty darn quickly - I'm just going to say we were starving and stick to that.
We ordered: Connor had the hamburger, which was huge, perfectly cooked and came with a homemade bun cooked right onto the top - and the cheese was not just a slab o' american, but a cheddary sauce that complemented the beef perfectly. Sided by hot crisp fries, Connor did not miss pizza Margherita at all. Ben had a specialty of the house: chicken curry. It was seasoned aggressively but not overly, and the morsels of chicken almost melted in your mouth. Griff had a ribeye saute, again perfectly cooked, which was a relief after his experience with the overly rare meat the day before. A plate of grilled vegetables - peppers, zucchini, cauliflower - came with and he shared those with me. I had the risotto with shrimp and cardoons (cardoons are in the artichoke family) and it was redolent with flavors of the sea and garden. Creamy but not rich, it was a large portion and I ended up sharing with Griff, who apparently did not hear me order - he "hates" seafood - and never would have taken a bite had he known what it was. So much for false assumptions - he thoroughly enjoyed it, and cleaned his plate.
We had the white house wine, which is selected by Mr. Cipriani every year - he chose well for 2012. Griff had a screwdriver, which was about as far from the American drink of OJ and vodka as milk is to beer. It is made with blood orange juice to start, and I couldn't identify the other ingredients but it was tasty and refreshing.
As Kelsey says, it is best to have the "full experience" so we ordered dessert. Gelato with a chocolate sauce and sugary sprinkles, chocolate cake with a mascarpone sauce and apple pie - and Griff enjoyed his screwdriver so much he had one for dessert. It was a meal where food, service, atmosphere and history all coalesced into an unforgettable experience. Thanks, Rick and Jenny for treating us.
Back out in the real world, we crossed the Piazza to visit St. Mark's Basilica, stopping briefly to see if Griff could get some pigeons to sit on him. (I have no explanation for this, and am glad that the pigeons did not cooperate.) We went into the Basilica, a fancy Byzantine structure with three domes, many columns and impressive mosaics on the front, which was built to house the remains of St Mark the Evangelist - the gospel guy. The remains were stolen by some merchants in Alexandria in the early 800's, and St Mark replaced St Theodore as the patron saint of Venice.
The interior is dark, with ornate carvings and fancy floors and ceilings. We toured the main part, then back to the vaporetto stop for our final ride.
No dinner tonight, we are all too full from lunch. Just packing, and C & G want to check out some bars by the canal. We have a long, long day tomorrow and need to leave our apartment for the bus to the airport a little after 7:00. A short flight from Venice to Frankfurt, then a long haul to Newark, then another short hop to Cleveland, then a four-hour drive to Cincinnati for C & G. This trip has been the perfect length: it went fast, but we are all just about ready to be home.
I'll do one more blog shortly after we get home, and put together a photo album. It's been a great trip!
Our last day! As we had a full schedule, we were up and out by 10:30 or so - Connor fixed pancakes and Ben went out for pastries at a bakery he stumbled upon during his morning walk. (During which he got turned around and ended up following some gondoliers on their way to work - once he got to the canal he took the vaporetto back.) The pain au chocolate were not Paris-level, but they were good, and brought back nice memories of our trip last May with Kelsey and Carly.
Our first destination was the island of Murano, famous for the glass we have seen and admired all over Italy. We took the vaporetto and after a somewhat rough ride on the big water we arrived at the stop where the Museo del Vetro (Glass Museum) is located. With help from some locals, we found it and went in. The first gallery was filled with small bottles, tubes and shards, most of them from the first century. While attractively displayed in artistically arranged hanging cubes, once you've seen one bottle you've pretty much seen them all. Connor and Ben feigned sophistication and interest by s-l-o-w-l-y looking at each cube while Griff and I rolled our eyes and hoped for something better in the next room.
Well, that hope was unfounded, and we whipped through a display intended to show the progression from cloudy to clear glass. Yawn. Then there were some examples of hideous centerpieces, one so big that if Griff ever does live in a Doge-size palace it might work. Finally, we got to a gallery that had some cool stuff, but really not anything more spectacular than what we'd seen in the shops. We watched part of a glassmaking video - and I will say that the monitor had a spectacular glass frame - then left to go to the glass-making factory.
It was closed. We decided to shop until the vaporetto came, and this decision turned a completely lame expedition into a huge success, as Griff found the perfect souvenir, one he had been looking for from day one. Sometimes it is the small things...
We hopped back on the vaporetto, or "evaporator" as some of us called it, and headed back toward San Marco. By the time we got there it was about 2:00, so we decided to do Harry's Bar for lunch. What an experience! Opened in 1931, and frequented by Ernest Hemingway so often that he had his own table during the winter of 1949 -50. Here he wrote much of "Over the River and Into the Trees" - and Harry's Bar is mentioned many times in the novel.
As soon as we opened the door, we were greeted by a white-jacketed waiter, who inquired if we were there to have drinks or lunch. We told him lunch, and we were escorted to the last empty table - the place is very small, only about 15 tables or so. It feels like you are on a boat, but not just any boat - a yacht. It was easy to see why Hemingway was so comfortable there, given his fondness for his own boat, The Pilar. It's all white tablecloths, golden wood and glowing lights inside, but the atmosphere is relaxed, not stuffy. And the service is impeccable!
Everyone ordered a Bellini - the iconic cocktail invented here. WOW. I've had a Bellini before, but nothing like this. White peach puree, prosecco...perfection. Even Ben, who never likes drinks like this, enjoyed his. While we perused the menu, our waiter brought us each a roll that was flaky outside, tender inside. It didn't need anything but none of us could resist the tiny cubes of butter in a glass dish on our table. Then a basket of regular bread and house-made grissini appeared. I am almost embarrassed to say that it had to be replenished pretty darn quickly - I'm just going to say we were starving and stick to that.
We ordered: Connor had the hamburger, which was huge, perfectly cooked and came with a homemade bun cooked right onto the top - and the cheese was not just a slab o' american, but a cheddary sauce that complemented the beef perfectly. Sided by hot crisp fries, Connor did not miss pizza Margherita at all. Ben had a specialty of the house: chicken curry. It was seasoned aggressively but not overly, and the morsels of chicken almost melted in your mouth. Griff had a ribeye saute, again perfectly cooked, which was a relief after his experience with the overly rare meat the day before. A plate of grilled vegetables - peppers, zucchini, cauliflower - came with and he shared those with me. I had the risotto with shrimp and cardoons (cardoons are in the artichoke family) and it was redolent with flavors of the sea and garden. Creamy but not rich, it was a large portion and I ended up sharing with Griff, who apparently did not hear me order - he "hates" seafood - and never would have taken a bite had he known what it was. So much for false assumptions - he thoroughly enjoyed it, and cleaned his plate.
We had the white house wine, which is selected by Mr. Cipriani every year - he chose well for 2012. Griff had a screwdriver, which was about as far from the American drink of OJ and vodka as milk is to beer. It is made with blood orange juice to start, and I couldn't identify the other ingredients but it was tasty and refreshing.
As Kelsey says, it is best to have the "full experience" so we ordered dessert. Gelato with a chocolate sauce and sugary sprinkles, chocolate cake with a mascarpone sauce and apple pie - and Griff enjoyed his screwdriver so much he had one for dessert. It was a meal where food, service, atmosphere and history all coalesced into an unforgettable experience. Thanks, Rick and Jenny for treating us.
Back out in the real world, we crossed the Piazza to visit St. Mark's Basilica, stopping briefly to see if Griff could get some pigeons to sit on him. (I have no explanation for this, and am glad that the pigeons did not cooperate.) We went into the Basilica, a fancy Byzantine structure with three domes, many columns and impressive mosaics on the front, which was built to house the remains of St Mark the Evangelist - the gospel guy. The remains were stolen by some merchants in Alexandria in the early 800's, and St Mark replaced St Theodore as the patron saint of Venice.
The interior is dark, with ornate carvings and fancy floors and ceilings. We toured the main part, then back to the vaporetto stop for our final ride.
No dinner tonight, we are all too full from lunch. Just packing, and C & G want to check out some bars by the canal. We have a long, long day tomorrow and need to leave our apartment for the bus to the airport a little after 7:00. A short flight from Venice to Frankfurt, then a long haul to Newark, then another short hop to Cleveland, then a four-hour drive to Cincinnati for C & G. This trip has been the perfect length: it went fast, but we are all just about ready to be home.
I'll do one more blog shortly after we get home, and put together a photo album. It's been a great trip!
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Gone to the Doges
Monday Night
Around 2:00 I heard the the front door slam, and the clatter of footsteps on the stairs - the guys were home! To reach the sacca they had to go to the very north part of the city, and they were able to find it without too much difficulty. Jane was not there, but they waited and she showed up, 10 or 15 minutes late, "because of the wind." She had the Zoolander Is That You God number so she should have called but the story has a happy ending - everyone had a great time and got a good workout.
As the guys stood on the dock Jane got in the boat and started by talking about her boat, and the unique way rowing is done in Venice: facing forward, standing. Connor was nearest, so she told him to hop in, and he got tips on balancing (one foot forward) and how to hold the oar (like the bar on the weight when you are bench pressing). Then Griff got his hands-on basics, then it was Ben's turn, even though he was supposed to be a passenger, not a player. Everyone aboard and briefed, moorings were loosed and they set out with Jane in the stern (steering) and Griff on the bow (providing the power). After practicing some maneuvers in smaller canals the wind died down enough to head to the Grand Canal. Connor got in on the action - they swapped several times during the two hours they were out - Connor thinks he's a natural at this. They crossed the traffic lanes, and were out in the big water, with the boys completely handling the boat, which was good because Jane and Ben were busy having a conversation. The wind came up a little, and C & G started to drift, but not before they had transitioned to the next level, which was balancing on the top of the boat while manning the stern. Jane took over and got them back on track, then Ben took a short turn before they got back into the marina. From what they reported at this point they all engaged in what I would characterize as "girl talk" - Jane, who was originally from Australia, had been married for 22 years to a Venetian piano player/cook, divorced, then she was either looking for or had been married to someone who could dance, and now she realized she just wanted someone who could build and fix things. They got some tips on faking accents, and she also advised C & G to be nice, but not too nice or they would get "walked on" by the ladies. Wish I had been able to go along!
Once they were done with regaling me with their tales of the sea, we set out again. Lunch was at a canal side trattoria. I stayed light with a vegetable soup, Connor and Ben had scrumptious spaghetti Bolognese and Griff went with a steak which he had to send back because it was so rare it wasn't even warm in the center, despite ordering it medium well. It came back more done but still short of even medium - Italians like their beef still mooing.
We got 48 hour vaporetto passes, and picked up bus tickets to the airport while we were at it. Then, our first vaporetto ride: in the outside bow seats, down the Grand Canal to San Marco Piazza. It is like moving back in time, as you chug past palaces that still retain vestiges of their past glory. It again was overcast, but the sun broke out several times, bringing an otherworldly light into play. We passed the Rialto Bridge, its classic elegance marred by graffitti. Finally, we rounded a bend and caught our first glimpse of the San Marco Campanile, the tall bell tower of San Marco.
Our vaporetto stop was right at the Doge's Palace, so we got tickets and headed in. This was the seat of the government of Venice for centuries. As well as being the home of the Doge (the elected ruler of Venice) it was the venue for its courts, its administration and bureaucracy and jail. This system lasted for almost 1000 years, from around 700 till almost 1800.
From the huge courtyard, you head toward the Doge's private apartments by ascending the Golden Staircase, so named for all the gold on the ceiling. Ornate antechamber after antechamber, we gawked at ceilings that (almost) rivaled the Sistine Chapel, and listened to Griff spin a fantasy of someday living in digs like this. We noticed many incarnations of the Winged Lion, symbol of St Mark, and Neptune and Mars. Most impressive was The Great Council Hall, which to this day is one of the largest rooms in all of Europe. Up to 2000 nobles would gather there and report transgressions - these were the equivalent of the kid who volunteers to write the names of talkers on the chalkboard while the teacher leaves the room. Portraits of the first 76 Doges line the room, all visible except the one of the Doge who tried to stage a coup and have himself declared prince. His portrait is covered.
Continuing through the palace we came to the jail area, which as you might imagine is not nearly so luxurious - althougth the cells were large we didn't imagine them as singles. We crossed the Bridge of Sighs, where the condemned got their last glimpse of Venice as they walked across. Finally, we exited and headed out to the Piazza, which is the only Piazza in Venice. The other, lesser squares are called Campo. Just looking around you are struck by all the ornate Byzantine architecture, but it is easy to be distracted by the crowds, the vendors and the high-end shops. Griff was chilled, so he bought a sweatshirt, then we wandered around, window shopping. C & G had a gelato, and then we found Harry's Bar, where we are headed tomorrow. The boys are treating, so perhaps Claudia and Kim might warn Rick and Jenny what to expect when they get the credit card bill....
We hopped on the vaporetto, and headed to our apartment. We hung out and reviewed our day, then headed to dinner. Ben, Connor and I ordered normal food - pasta, pizza - but Griff really went out on a limb and ordered something called Pizza Hamby Chips. Not only was this the oddest thing seen on this trip, it may be up there in the most bizarre ever: A pizza crust, topped with mozzarella, decorated with a hamburger patty in the center, strewn with french fries then drizzled with ketchup. He said it was fantastic; none of us sampled.
Hard to believe tomorrow is our last day!
Around 2:00 I heard the the front door slam, and the clatter of footsteps on the stairs - the guys were home! To reach the sacca they had to go to the very north part of the city, and they were able to find it without too much difficulty. Jane was not there, but they waited and she showed up, 10 or 15 minutes late, "because of the wind." She had the Zoolander Is That You God number so she should have called but the story has a happy ending - everyone had a great time and got a good workout.
As the guys stood on the dock Jane got in the boat and started by talking about her boat, and the unique way rowing is done in Venice: facing forward, standing. Connor was nearest, so she told him to hop in, and he got tips on balancing (one foot forward) and how to hold the oar (like the bar on the weight when you are bench pressing). Then Griff got his hands-on basics, then it was Ben's turn, even though he was supposed to be a passenger, not a player. Everyone aboard and briefed, moorings were loosed and they set out with Jane in the stern (steering) and Griff on the bow (providing the power). After practicing some maneuvers in smaller canals the wind died down enough to head to the Grand Canal. Connor got in on the action - they swapped several times during the two hours they were out - Connor thinks he's a natural at this. They crossed the traffic lanes, and were out in the big water, with the boys completely handling the boat, which was good because Jane and Ben were busy having a conversation. The wind came up a little, and C & G started to drift, but not before they had transitioned to the next level, which was balancing on the top of the boat while manning the stern. Jane took over and got them back on track, then Ben took a short turn before they got back into the marina. From what they reported at this point they all engaged in what I would characterize as "girl talk" - Jane, who was originally from Australia, had been married for 22 years to a Venetian piano player/cook, divorced, then she was either looking for or had been married to someone who could dance, and now she realized she just wanted someone who could build and fix things. They got some tips on faking accents, and she also advised C & G to be nice, but not too nice or they would get "walked on" by the ladies. Wish I had been able to go along!
Once they were done with regaling me with their tales of the sea, we set out again. Lunch was at a canal side trattoria. I stayed light with a vegetable soup, Connor and Ben had scrumptious spaghetti Bolognese and Griff went with a steak which he had to send back because it was so rare it wasn't even warm in the center, despite ordering it medium well. It came back more done but still short of even medium - Italians like their beef still mooing.
We got 48 hour vaporetto passes, and picked up bus tickets to the airport while we were at it. Then, our first vaporetto ride: in the outside bow seats, down the Grand Canal to San Marco Piazza. It is like moving back in time, as you chug past palaces that still retain vestiges of their past glory. It again was overcast, but the sun broke out several times, bringing an otherworldly light into play. We passed the Rialto Bridge, its classic elegance marred by graffitti. Finally, we rounded a bend and caught our first glimpse of the San Marco Campanile, the tall bell tower of San Marco.
Our vaporetto stop was right at the Doge's Palace, so we got tickets and headed in. This was the seat of the government of Venice for centuries. As well as being the home of the Doge (the elected ruler of Venice) it was the venue for its courts, its administration and bureaucracy and jail. This system lasted for almost 1000 years, from around 700 till almost 1800.
From the huge courtyard, you head toward the Doge's private apartments by ascending the Golden Staircase, so named for all the gold on the ceiling. Ornate antechamber after antechamber, we gawked at ceilings that (almost) rivaled the Sistine Chapel, and listened to Griff spin a fantasy of someday living in digs like this. We noticed many incarnations of the Winged Lion, symbol of St Mark, and Neptune and Mars. Most impressive was The Great Council Hall, which to this day is one of the largest rooms in all of Europe. Up to 2000 nobles would gather there and report transgressions - these were the equivalent of the kid who volunteers to write the names of talkers on the chalkboard while the teacher leaves the room. Portraits of the first 76 Doges line the room, all visible except the one of the Doge who tried to stage a coup and have himself declared prince. His portrait is covered.
Continuing through the palace we came to the jail area, which as you might imagine is not nearly so luxurious - althougth the cells were large we didn't imagine them as singles. We crossed the Bridge of Sighs, where the condemned got their last glimpse of Venice as they walked across. Finally, we exited and headed out to the Piazza, which is the only Piazza in Venice. The other, lesser squares are called Campo. Just looking around you are struck by all the ornate Byzantine architecture, but it is easy to be distracted by the crowds, the vendors and the high-end shops. Griff was chilled, so he bought a sweatshirt, then we wandered around, window shopping. C & G had a gelato, and then we found Harry's Bar, where we are headed tomorrow. The boys are treating, so perhaps Claudia and Kim might warn Rick and Jenny what to expect when they get the credit card bill....
We hopped on the vaporetto, and headed to our apartment. We hung out and reviewed our day, then headed to dinner. Ben, Connor and I ordered normal food - pasta, pizza - but Griff really went out on a limb and ordered something called Pizza Hamby Chips. Not only was this the oddest thing seen on this trip, it may be up there in the most bizarre ever: A pizza crust, topped with mozzarella, decorated with a hamburger patty in the center, strewn with french fries then drizzled with ketchup. He said it was fantastic; none of us sampled.
Hard to believe tomorrow is our last day!
A-Mazed
Monday, Early Afternoon
Yesterday it was time to say arrivaderci to Rome. Sadly, (and for some of us, painfully) we gathered up our belongings and left the apartment, headed for the Spanish Steps to catch a taxi to Termini, the main train station in Rome. We had to check out of our apartment at 10, and our train to Venice did not leave until 11:45 so we had plenty of time to kill.
Some of chose to visit McDonald's, and one of us chose to potentially save thousands of lives. That would be me. Here's the story: We found an area with some seats at the east end of the terminal, two of which were empty. Connor and I sat, and Ben and Griff hovered around. Finally, the innocuous -looking Asian family (mom, dad, kid) sitting next to us left, and Ben and Griff plopped down. A few minutes later, I noticed that there were two suitcases with us that weren't ours - not cool. When it became apparent that the family was not coming back - I doubt the bags were theirs - I looked at the bags and noticed that one had Bangladesh written on the side, and both had tags from Qatar. Not that I would have been any less concerned if they were American Airlines tags on bags labeled Oklahoma City.... Anyway, while Ben got Conner and Griff involved in listening for ticking sounds, I sought out a policeman. The first one I found waved me off - he was talking on his cell phone.
Short digression: The Italian police give new meaning to the phrase "fashion police." Italy has the highest number of police per capita in the European Union, with 80-some different divisions. And they are sharply dressed! In fact, Armani designed the uniforms for the Polizia di Stato, or State police.
Finally, I just said we were moving to the west end - and as soon as we started to move two unoccupied police strolled by. I got their attention, and using pigeon Italian and pantomime I explained the situation. When they realized what I was saying they got a little worked up, and thanked me. As I was walking back to my people, Griff saw them remove the bags and take them to their office. Can you imagine if this had been in the US? The whole place would have been evacuated, SWAT and bomb squads called....Anyway, I am sure the headlines in Il Messaggero today are full of questions about the American woman who saved the day, but I am going to remain anonymous. Unless a parade is involved.
Our train ride was pleasant, almost four hours. We were lucky to have facing seats with a table between us, better to rest weary heads. The scenery was not nearly as beautiful as it was on the trip from Madrid to Algeciris, so nappers didn't miss much.
Early Sunday morning I'd received an email from Mirka, our Venice contact, telling me that our apartment was having electrical problems and the only option she had for us was a place in the San Croce neighborhood, which is still in the historical heart of the city, but barely. Certainly it it no San Marco, where I wanted us to stay. But, with not real options we just had to hope for the best.
We left the train station, crossed the bridge (where I did NOT tear flesh from Ben's hand in what will be referred to as "the suitcase incident"), walked a short distance and met Mirka. She could not have been more apologetic as she led us a short distance, through tiny alleys, to our place. It's charming - three bedrooms, one bath, and a decent sized kitchen/dining area/living room.
We studied our map and tried to get a handle on our location - Ben decided to do some recon while we settled in. A short while later he returned - he'd managed to find a small grocery store, where he purchased some essentials. However, he had his usual difficulties with the cashier. We have to figure out what negative vibe he sends out - once again, the cashier rang up his purchases but did not move them to the bagging area - in other words, she picked them up from the belt, scanned them and then put them right back in their original position. Nobody else has this problem; we think it is funny but the Ben is not all that amused.
Time for dinner - Ben, Griff and I headed out in search of the "restaurant area" Mirka had described, which was in the opposite direction Ben had gone. Breadcrumbs, or a big piece of chalk to mark our route would have been helpful - narrow alleys, bridges over canals, zig this way, zag that - it's a maze. We came to the area we thought she had described and found a lone Indian restaurant, which did not appeal. The fun began when we tried to retrace our steps - did we cross the bridge? or no? - but we did find a trattoria.
Ben had lasagne, I had bufala mozz pizza, and Griff had a spicy salami, aka pepperoni, pizza. It was no Pizza Ciro, but close. We ordered a pizza Margherita to go for Connor so he could continue his research. Heading back, we again became confused, especially when we passed a laundromat with bright orange appliances (probably making Euros hand over fist) that we were sure we would have noticed. I do not like to be lost, so Venice was not making a good impression on me at this point! Finally, Ben spotted a familiar landmark, and boom! we were right at our door.
This morning I woke up feeling punk (through NO fault of my own, I want to make that clear) and realized I was not going to be able to go to the rowing lessons scheduled for 11:00 am. No worries though, I was confident that the guys would be able to navigate themselves to the Sacca di Misericorda and meet up with Jane, the champion rower who offers private gondolier lessons on her boat. Now I'm feeling much better, waiting for them to return so we can continue our exploration of this crazy place.
Yesterday it was time to say arrivaderci to Rome. Sadly, (and for some of us, painfully) we gathered up our belongings and left the apartment, headed for the Spanish Steps to catch a taxi to Termini, the main train station in Rome. We had to check out of our apartment at 10, and our train to Venice did not leave until 11:45 so we had plenty of time to kill.
Some of chose to visit McDonald's, and one of us chose to potentially save thousands of lives. That would be me. Here's the story: We found an area with some seats at the east end of the terminal, two of which were empty. Connor and I sat, and Ben and Griff hovered around. Finally, the innocuous -looking Asian family (mom, dad, kid) sitting next to us left, and Ben and Griff plopped down. A few minutes later, I noticed that there were two suitcases with us that weren't ours - not cool. When it became apparent that the family was not coming back - I doubt the bags were theirs - I looked at the bags and noticed that one had Bangladesh written on the side, and both had tags from Qatar. Not that I would have been any less concerned if they were American Airlines tags on bags labeled Oklahoma City.... Anyway, while Ben got Conner and Griff involved in listening for ticking sounds, I sought out a policeman. The first one I found waved me off - he was talking on his cell phone.
Short digression: The Italian police give new meaning to the phrase "fashion police." Italy has the highest number of police per capita in the European Union, with 80-some different divisions. And they are sharply dressed! In fact, Armani designed the uniforms for the Polizia di Stato, or State police.
Finally, I just said we were moving to the west end - and as soon as we started to move two unoccupied police strolled by. I got their attention, and using pigeon Italian and pantomime I explained the situation. When they realized what I was saying they got a little worked up, and thanked me. As I was walking back to my people, Griff saw them remove the bags and take them to their office. Can you imagine if this had been in the US? The whole place would have been evacuated, SWAT and bomb squads called....Anyway, I am sure the headlines in Il Messaggero today are full of questions about the American woman who saved the day, but I am going to remain anonymous. Unless a parade is involved.
Our train ride was pleasant, almost four hours. We were lucky to have facing seats with a table between us, better to rest weary heads. The scenery was not nearly as beautiful as it was on the trip from Madrid to Algeciris, so nappers didn't miss much.
Early Sunday morning I'd received an email from Mirka, our Venice contact, telling me that our apartment was having electrical problems and the only option she had for us was a place in the San Croce neighborhood, which is still in the historical heart of the city, but barely. Certainly it it no San Marco, where I wanted us to stay. But, with not real options we just had to hope for the best.
We left the train station, crossed the bridge (where I did NOT tear flesh from Ben's hand in what will be referred to as "the suitcase incident"), walked a short distance and met Mirka. She could not have been more apologetic as she led us a short distance, through tiny alleys, to our place. It's charming - three bedrooms, one bath, and a decent sized kitchen/dining area/living room.
We studied our map and tried to get a handle on our location - Ben decided to do some recon while we settled in. A short while later he returned - he'd managed to find a small grocery store, where he purchased some essentials. However, he had his usual difficulties with the cashier. We have to figure out what negative vibe he sends out - once again, the cashier rang up his purchases but did not move them to the bagging area - in other words, she picked them up from the belt, scanned them and then put them right back in their original position. Nobody else has this problem; we think it is funny but the Ben is not all that amused.
Time for dinner - Ben, Griff and I headed out in search of the "restaurant area" Mirka had described, which was in the opposite direction Ben had gone. Breadcrumbs, or a big piece of chalk to mark our route would have been helpful - narrow alleys, bridges over canals, zig this way, zag that - it's a maze. We came to the area we thought she had described and found a lone Indian restaurant, which did not appeal. The fun began when we tried to retrace our steps - did we cross the bridge? or no? - but we did find a trattoria.
Ben had lasagne, I had bufala mozz pizza, and Griff had a spicy salami, aka pepperoni, pizza. It was no Pizza Ciro, but close. We ordered a pizza Margherita to go for Connor so he could continue his research. Heading back, we again became confused, especially when we passed a laundromat with bright orange appliances (probably making Euros hand over fist) that we were sure we would have noticed. I do not like to be lost, so Venice was not making a good impression on me at this point! Finally, Ben spotted a familiar landmark, and boom! we were right at our door.
This morning I woke up feeling punk (through NO fault of my own, I want to make that clear) and realized I was not going to be able to go to the rowing lessons scheduled for 11:00 am. No worries though, I was confident that the guys would be able to navigate themselves to the Sacca di Misericorda and meet up with Jane, the champion rower who offers private gondolier lessons on her boat. Now I'm feeling much better, waiting for them to return so we can continue our exploration of this crazy place.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Poosh de Button....*
We are blasting out of Rome in style! After some serious napping, Connor and Griff set out to conquer Via de Corso, the premier shopping street in Rome. Ben and I headed back up to the area around Trevi Fountain.
Ben and I found this little gourmet shop where they plied us with shots: grappa, limoncello, pistachio liqueur, orange liqueur, wine....Ben was ready to find a barstool and park himself there for the evening. We escaped after spending about 85 Euro..this is what happens when you look at me crooked for spending 5 euro on a small cone of chestnuts from a street vendor. Ran into Griff, who was successfully outfitting himself a la Italia, and he informed us Connor had headed to the apartment. During the course of our brief conversation Griff remembered he had the keys! OOPS. Hate when that happens. Connor sat across the street for about 45 minutes waiting for someone to come home. At least it was another nice day, and he had hope that someone would eventually show up, unlike a previous evening when C & G thought they might have to sleep in the hall outside the apartment since I had mistakenly locked the door from the inside. Good times.
Anyway, after a short fashion show where C & G showed they can totally rock the Italian style, we decided not to disappoint our fans and go, for our last time, to Pizza Ciro. As we approached, we noted a line out the door. But- no worries for the favored Americans. (Us.) As soon as we were spotted we were motioned in and seated at a table right in the front room. Our server, by now familiar with our preferences, brought Cokes, water, beers, and vino. We told him we wanted rice balls and potato balls - our two favorite appetizers- but he wouldn't hear of it. No, no, no! We must have the Neopolitan platter! So we did, and he was right. Pizza Margherita for Connor of course, and Griff had one too. I had papardelle with porcini, and Ben had what the waiter thought he should have - turned out to be a seafood linguine. Delicious. Griff pulled out his credit card, and we left in a flourish of ciao, arrivederci and perhaps an adios amigos.
Back at the apartment - Ben is speaking to the people of Rome from our window, Griff is explaining how he just cannot operate plastic ice cube trays (another one bites the dust) and Connor is telling a hilarious story, the gist of which will remain in Rome.
Tomorrow: Venice. We get off the train, get tickets for the Vaporetto (water bus) and take the #2 to Rialto. Then, according to the email from our contact: "I will have sign with your name. As a sign of recognition in any case I will have with me a shopper Betty Boop red! See you Sunday, Mirka" Wish us luck with this rendezvous. (I'm sure it will be fine.)
I'm having trouble typing because I'm laughing so hard...and C & G are about to leave for the party at Elia's. They are taking a taxi to his place - they have the Zoolander Is That You God phone and I expect they will be late. They've packed, which is more than I can say for the progress toward departure the Ben and I have made.
I am not sure about internet access in Venice, but if there are no new posts rest assured that I will still create daily blogs, and publish them as soon as we are online.
Rome has been a blast! C & G are awesome to travel with, and we are all excited for the next part of our adventure.
*Title of this blog is an inside joke.
Ben and I found this little gourmet shop where they plied us with shots: grappa, limoncello, pistachio liqueur, orange liqueur, wine....Ben was ready to find a barstool and park himself there for the evening. We escaped after spending about 85 Euro..this is what happens when you look at me crooked for spending 5 euro on a small cone of chestnuts from a street vendor. Ran into Griff, who was successfully outfitting himself a la Italia, and he informed us Connor had headed to the apartment. During the course of our brief conversation Griff remembered he had the keys! OOPS. Hate when that happens. Connor sat across the street for about 45 minutes waiting for someone to come home. At least it was another nice day, and he had hope that someone would eventually show up, unlike a previous evening when C & G thought they might have to sleep in the hall outside the apartment since I had mistakenly locked the door from the inside. Good times.
Anyway, after a short fashion show where C & G showed they can totally rock the Italian style, we decided not to disappoint our fans and go, for our last time, to Pizza Ciro. As we approached, we noted a line out the door. But- no worries for the favored Americans. (Us.) As soon as we were spotted we were motioned in and seated at a table right in the front room. Our server, by now familiar with our preferences, brought Cokes, water, beers, and vino. We told him we wanted rice balls and potato balls - our two favorite appetizers- but he wouldn't hear of it. No, no, no! We must have the Neopolitan platter! So we did, and he was right. Pizza Margherita for Connor of course, and Griff had one too. I had papardelle with porcini, and Ben had what the waiter thought he should have - turned out to be a seafood linguine. Delicious. Griff pulled out his credit card, and we left in a flourish of ciao, arrivederci and perhaps an adios amigos.
Back at the apartment - Ben is speaking to the people of Rome from our window, Griff is explaining how he just cannot operate plastic ice cube trays (another one bites the dust) and Connor is telling a hilarious story, the gist of which will remain in Rome.
Tomorrow: Venice. We get off the train, get tickets for the Vaporetto (water bus) and take the #2 to Rialto. Then, according to the email from our contact: "I will have sign with your name. As a sign of recognition in any case I will have with me a shopper Betty Boop red! See you Sunday, Mirka" Wish us luck with this rendezvous. (I'm sure it will be fine.)
I'm having trouble typing because I'm laughing so hard...and C & G are about to leave for the party at Elia's. They are taking a taxi to his place - they have the Zoolander Is That You God phone and I expect they will be late. They've packed, which is more than I can say for the progress toward departure the Ben and I have made.
I am not sure about internet access in Venice, but if there are no new posts rest assured that I will still create daily blogs, and publish them as soon as we are online.
Rome has been a blast! C & G are awesome to travel with, and we are all excited for the next part of our adventure.
*Title of this blog is an inside joke.
Down Under
We've just returned from the Scavi tour. We got to the Vatican early, because if you are late, they don't wait. We found the correct Swiss guards, went through an actual security check, waited for our group to be called, registered and met our guide, Marie, who is a very smart person from Alaska.
There were 15 in our group, the maximum size, 13 of us from the US and two Brits. Marie began by giving us some history, then we entered. We were surprised to learn that we were not actually underground - we were under St. Peter's. It sure felt underground, though. Very narrow passages, stone and brick walls lined with mausoleums. It is kept very dim to preserve the artifacts, and it is extremely humid - to the point you can get dripped on. A giant drip hit Griff and splashed off onto Connor, to give you an idea.
Most of the crypts are Pagan, with a smattering of Christians, who can be identified by markings and by mixing Pagan/Christian symbols. Jesus as Apollo, for example. The colors are preserved remarkably well. The largest mausoleum held 120 people, and had a patio built on the upper level so the families could picnic. The floor in the scavi is original - the dirt has packed into sedimentary rock.
We wound our way through, and finally came to the part where St Peter is buried. His head is on one side of a wall and the rest of him on the other - to make up for this indignity he has a section where there is a trophy of Gaiia and columns - hard to describe - there were graphics on the wall that Marie used to keep us oriented as to where we were. It was very confusing even with them, but she did a decent job of keeping us focused.
Finally, we went into a crypt where part of the wall was excavated and you could see into the marble-lined area, and you could see St Peter's actual bones. None of us expected that; we thought we would just see the crypt. You could not see a lot of the bones, just a few. And Dad, you are correct, part of the identification was that there were no feet bones, as he was crucified upside down and they cut him down at the ankles. We also saw the actual spot where the crucifixtion took place.
Then we had silence, where you could pray or meditate. It was very holy.
We exited into the Grotto of the Basilica, where many of the Popes are buried. The crypts here are quite elaborate; many of them have life size marble sculptures of the occupants on top. We did not see John Paul.
Caught a taxi back to the Spanish Steps, where we saw our first pedestrian/taxi accident. Can't believe it doesn't happen more often, as crazy as the traffic is. Now we are back at the apartment, having a little rest. It's our last day, and the afternoon is free. Maybe shopping, maybe Borghese Gardens...I know there is a going away party planned for C & G at some point...
There were 15 in our group, the maximum size, 13 of us from the US and two Brits. Marie began by giving us some history, then we entered. We were surprised to learn that we were not actually underground - we were under St. Peter's. It sure felt underground, though. Very narrow passages, stone and brick walls lined with mausoleums. It is kept very dim to preserve the artifacts, and it is extremely humid - to the point you can get dripped on. A giant drip hit Griff and splashed off onto Connor, to give you an idea.
Most of the crypts are Pagan, with a smattering of Christians, who can be identified by markings and by mixing Pagan/Christian symbols. Jesus as Apollo, for example. The colors are preserved remarkably well. The largest mausoleum held 120 people, and had a patio built on the upper level so the families could picnic. The floor in the scavi is original - the dirt has packed into sedimentary rock.
We wound our way through, and finally came to the part where St Peter is buried. His head is on one side of a wall and the rest of him on the other - to make up for this indignity he has a section where there is a trophy of Gaiia and columns - hard to describe - there were graphics on the wall that Marie used to keep us oriented as to where we were. It was very confusing even with them, but she did a decent job of keeping us focused.
Finally, we went into a crypt where part of the wall was excavated and you could see into the marble-lined area, and you could see St Peter's actual bones. None of us expected that; we thought we would just see the crypt. You could not see a lot of the bones, just a few. And Dad, you are correct, part of the identification was that there were no feet bones, as he was crucified upside down and they cut him down at the ankles. We also saw the actual spot where the crucifixtion took place.
Then we had silence, where you could pray or meditate. It was very holy.
We exited into the Grotto of the Basilica, where many of the Popes are buried. The crypts here are quite elaborate; many of them have life size marble sculptures of the occupants on top. We did not see John Paul.
Caught a taxi back to the Spanish Steps, where we saw our first pedestrian/taxi accident. Can't believe it doesn't happen more often, as crazy as the traffic is. Now we are back at the apartment, having a little rest. It's our last day, and the afternoon is free. Maybe shopping, maybe Borghese Gardens...I know there is a going away party planned for C & G at some point...
Friday, March 9, 2012
Modern Problems and Ancient History
So, how many of you have been wakened in the morning by the sounds of a full-out demonstration complete with police in riot gear coming from underneath your window? Well, we have. Just after 11:00. Yes, we slept in. Being a traveler is tiring. A tourist, probably not so much.
Our building is catty-corner from the Ministry of Transportation, and apparently there is conflict over the building of a high speed train somewhere, which would put truck drivers out out of business plus there are labor issues with the workers who would be (or are, we are not clear) building this. Lots of speeches, rally cries, and a few altercations. We, of course, were hanging out our windows taking it all in. At one point everyone started running around our corner, hands up and that was a little sketchy. Right under Ben and Griff's window they had a guy on the ground - Griff was making a video but due to operator error it did not come out. I guess his acclaimed artistic skills only extend to still photography.
Our street was blocked off so I don't think we could have left during the height of the festivities, so Connor cooked a delicious breakfast of french toast and speck. Breakfast discussion: It took almost SIX hours to do a load of laundry, and by load I am talking about two pairs of pants, some socks and underwear and a shirt. Has to be less than 2 kilos. How do these people keep their clothes clean? There is clearly an opportunity here - or in any city in Europe - a LAUNDROMAT! Jake could manage it; he has experience watching people's laundry. There are Euros to be made, I'm sure.
Once we were done eating the police line had been moved, so we could exit our apartment and go right. The Colosseum is left, but Connor's great sense of direction navigated us up to Via de Corso with nary a wrong turn. As a precaution we took our passports, just in case things escalated, making re-entry impossible.
It was a beautiful day, blue skies and pleasant temps, and we strolled at a leisurely pace. Arriving at the Colosseum is kind of jarring: You pass the relatively modern Victor Emmanuel monument, than BAM! There it is.
My plan was to do the audio tour, but we were approached by a guy asking if we'd like a private tour - after doing some cost v benefit analysis we hired him. The deal was a) we would not have to wait in line because he had tickets; b) he would give us a private tour of the Colosseum; c) at the conclusion he would walk us over to the Forum and Palantine Hill where our tickets would be valid and we could join a group tour if we chose.
After giving us some background on the site - construction was begun by Flavius, on the former grounds of that crazy-ass emperor Nero. This was in the year 72 AD, after Nero burned everything to the ground, while he may or may not have fiddled with his lyre. It was named the Colosseum because a colossal statue (150 ft) of Nero stood next to it: colossal statue....colosseum.
We entered, and immediately you notice the temperature drops. The walls are so thick it causes a natural air conditioning. We climbed up some crazy steep steps put in by one of the Popes, to the level where middle class people would have seats. As an aside, all the doors have numbers, and on your ticket it said which door to go in - just like our stadiums today. Tickets were free back in the day though, the emperor paid for everything including the entertainment, food and wine.
Events were held sometimes twice a week, sometimes a few times a month, depending on the emperor, but the program was always the same. First, hunting. They would put trees out and then release wild animals into the arena floor and then it was kill or be killed. Next: Executions. Criminals, kings of taken-over lands, enemies of the empire. Beheaded, stabbed, or crucified. Finally: Gladiator v Gladiator, fight to the death. The Gladiators only fought each other, never animals. That is only in films.
Because of recent floods the hypogeum was closed when I last checked, but we got to one point where we could see the whole thing anyway, and Brent (our guide) said even if you get down there you are only allowed to be in one small part so no loss.
We went down to the level where the Senators and Emperor watched, and heard some more history, then exited and walked along the Appian Way (the first highway, 350 miles, where returning Roman Soldiers marched back into Rome) to Palantine Hill. Alas, we had missed the last admission, so could not go inside, probably due to the fact that some of us are talkative and ask lots of questions and make tours last longer than usual. No names, please. Well, this worked out fantastic for us, because Brent felt bad and so took us all along the perimeter and across the street to the Forum and all the way up the road to the Victor Emmanuel monument. You don't really need to be inside the gates of Palantine Hill to see stuff, so we got more than we paid for. I think he liked C & G, he was a 20-something guy from Maryland who had been traveling and ran out of money in Rome 4 1/2 years ago and has been here ever since.
So, cultural landmarks checked off for the day, we split up to do some shopping. Ben and I got back to the apartment first, all the demonstrators were cleared out. Griff showed up a little while ago with a couple a bags - he definitely succumbed to some "LOL OMG" stuff and has gone to the supermarket. He and Connor got separated early in the shopping expedition - good, because I wanted them to be out on their own at least once.
Connor's back, he also had success with shopping and having a small snack at Burger King. We'll hang out here for awhile then head to dinner....drum roll please....at Pizza Ciro. Why mess with success?
Our building is catty-corner from the Ministry of Transportation, and apparently there is conflict over the building of a high speed train somewhere, which would put truck drivers out out of business plus there are labor issues with the workers who would be (or are, we are not clear) building this. Lots of speeches, rally cries, and a few altercations. We, of course, were hanging out our windows taking it all in. At one point everyone started running around our corner, hands up and that was a little sketchy. Right under Ben and Griff's window they had a guy on the ground - Griff was making a video but due to operator error it did not come out. I guess his acclaimed artistic skills only extend to still photography.
Our street was blocked off so I don't think we could have left during the height of the festivities, so Connor cooked a delicious breakfast of french toast and speck. Breakfast discussion: It took almost SIX hours to do a load of laundry, and by load I am talking about two pairs of pants, some socks and underwear and a shirt. Has to be less than 2 kilos. How do these people keep their clothes clean? There is clearly an opportunity here - or in any city in Europe - a LAUNDROMAT! Jake could manage it; he has experience watching people's laundry. There are Euros to be made, I'm sure.
Once we were done eating the police line had been moved, so we could exit our apartment and go right. The Colosseum is left, but Connor's great sense of direction navigated us up to Via de Corso with nary a wrong turn. As a precaution we took our passports, just in case things escalated, making re-entry impossible.
It was a beautiful day, blue skies and pleasant temps, and we strolled at a leisurely pace. Arriving at the Colosseum is kind of jarring: You pass the relatively modern Victor Emmanuel monument, than BAM! There it is.
My plan was to do the audio tour, but we were approached by a guy asking if we'd like a private tour - after doing some cost v benefit analysis we hired him. The deal was a) we would not have to wait in line because he had tickets; b) he would give us a private tour of the Colosseum; c) at the conclusion he would walk us over to the Forum and Palantine Hill where our tickets would be valid and we could join a group tour if we chose.
After giving us some background on the site - construction was begun by Flavius, on the former grounds of that crazy-ass emperor Nero. This was in the year 72 AD, after Nero burned everything to the ground, while he may or may not have fiddled with his lyre. It was named the Colosseum because a colossal statue (150 ft) of Nero stood next to it: colossal statue....colosseum.
We entered, and immediately you notice the temperature drops. The walls are so thick it causes a natural air conditioning. We climbed up some crazy steep steps put in by one of the Popes, to the level where middle class people would have seats. As an aside, all the doors have numbers, and on your ticket it said which door to go in - just like our stadiums today. Tickets were free back in the day though, the emperor paid for everything including the entertainment, food and wine.
Events were held sometimes twice a week, sometimes a few times a month, depending on the emperor, but the program was always the same. First, hunting. They would put trees out and then release wild animals into the arena floor and then it was kill or be killed. Next: Executions. Criminals, kings of taken-over lands, enemies of the empire. Beheaded, stabbed, or crucified. Finally: Gladiator v Gladiator, fight to the death. The Gladiators only fought each other, never animals. That is only in films.
Because of recent floods the hypogeum was closed when I last checked, but we got to one point where we could see the whole thing anyway, and Brent (our guide) said even if you get down there you are only allowed to be in one small part so no loss.
We went down to the level where the Senators and Emperor watched, and heard some more history, then exited and walked along the Appian Way (the first highway, 350 miles, where returning Roman Soldiers marched back into Rome) to Palantine Hill. Alas, we had missed the last admission, so could not go inside, probably due to the fact that some of us are talkative and ask lots of questions and make tours last longer than usual. No names, please. Well, this worked out fantastic for us, because Brent felt bad and so took us all along the perimeter and across the street to the Forum and all the way up the road to the Victor Emmanuel monument. You don't really need to be inside the gates of Palantine Hill to see stuff, so we got more than we paid for. I think he liked C & G, he was a 20-something guy from Maryland who had been traveling and ran out of money in Rome 4 1/2 years ago and has been here ever since.
So, cultural landmarks checked off for the day, we split up to do some shopping. Ben and I got back to the apartment first, all the demonstrators were cleared out. Griff showed up a little while ago with a couple a bags - he definitely succumbed to some "LOL OMG" stuff and has gone to the supermarket. He and Connor got separated early in the shopping expedition - good, because I wanted them to be out on their own at least once.
Connor's back, he also had success with shopping and having a small snack at Burger King. We'll hang out here for awhile then head to dinner....drum roll please....at Pizza Ciro. Why mess with success?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)