To say the ferry ride from Venice to Rovinj was bumpy would be a severe understatement. I'm not sure if we passed through a storm or if it was just the nature of that part of the Adriatic Sea, but the boat was bobbing more dramatically than any I've been on. It took about 2.5 hours to reach Croatia and the sailing got a lot smoother once the boat was back in coastal waters. Before arriving in Rovinj, the boat stopped at another town on the coast and there was an ambulance waiting at the dock. A guy was put on the stretcher and then everyone else who was getting off at that town exited the boat. After that it took fifteen minutes for the boat to reach Rovinj.
The town of Rovinj is in the region of Istria, which is towards the northern end of Croatia's long coastline. The city has an Italian feel to it, which is probably due to the fact that it was part of the Venetian republic for a long time. For me, Rovinj marked a major point in my journey as I transitioned from western Europe to eastern Europe. When I arrived in Rovinj it was already dark so I couldn't see much. I was staying at a room I had found on Air BnB and my host met me at the ferry dock. He walked me over to the room, which was inside Rovinj's old city and gave me some basic information of the neighborhood. Nothing else happened the rest of the night. Most everything was already closed so I would have to wait until the next day to get to work.
The next day there was a lot to do, and much of it was not sightseeing related. That said, the old city of Rovinj can be seen in just a few hours, so there was no real issue. One of the main things I had to get done was to purchase a bus ticket for the following day to Zagreb. While in much of Europe I normally travel by train, in Croatia the train network is more limited and buses generally are the better way to travel. To buy the bus ticket I also needed to get some money from the ATM, as Croatia does not use the euro. On the plus side, the Croatian national currency, called the kuna, is worth much less than the euro or the dollar and everything is cheaper in Croatia than in western Europe. This was especially welcome after my time in Venice, which financially was akin to me setting my wallet on fire. Once all the necessary mundane work was done, which was around 1:00pm, I finally got started on exploring Rovinj. I started at a parking lot, of all places, outside the old city walls which has a great view of the old city. Nearby it is a monument from the old communist days, recalling the time when Croatia was part of Yugoslavia. There's also an outdoor market out there. I took a little time to peruse the stalls and noted that oils were the most common ware being sold, so maybe they are a local specialty. From the market I followed Garibaldi Street to the "Square at the Bridge," which is not so much a square as it is a confluence of several streets. From what I understand, there used to be a waterway dividing the old city from the surrounding land and Square at the Bridge is where the bridge over the water was located. Further south is Tito Square, which as a water fountain that commemorates when the city finally got running water. From there I entered the old city under the Balbi Arch; a former city gate. At the top of Rovinj's old city is the St Euphemia church and after checking out the church I climbed the bell tower. The stairs in the tower are not so much stairs as they are wooden slots sticking out of the walls and they can at times be tricky to climb and descend. When I came down and finished with the church I went down the northwest side of the city to a path above the water. I passed by a rocky area where a few people were lounging by the sea. After walking around the old town some more, I went back to my room and then went for a bike ride on the bicycle my host had let me borrow. Like the one I borrowed in Amboise, the bicycle was not in the best shape, but I wasn't going to argue with a free bike ride. I followed the coast for awhile and then turned onto a bicycle trail that went through a forest/park. Some distance up the trail I decided to turn back and then I rode the bike all the way back to the room. By then it was time for dinner. Later that night I walked around town, though Rovinj doesn't have much going on after dark. The day ended and I felt like I had gotten done everything I wanted to.
I slept in until 9:00am the next morning. My bus wasn't until 1:45pm and there wasn't anything urgent left to do in Rovinj, so there was no need to hurry. My host didn't have anyone reserving the room that night and I took my time getting ready for the day. After packing up and cleaning the room, I spent my last bit of time in Rovinj walking through both the newer and older parts of the city. While I was out I also got some medication for my throat, which had started to bother me in Venice but had now turned into a standard sore throat. On my last trip I had gotten sick briefly in Milan, so with this ailment I guess I created a tradition of getting sick while overseas. I also visited St Euphemia one more time before leaving, and then went back to my room, got my backpack, and walked over to the bus station. The little town of Rovinj had taken me in and welcomed me to the east. Ahead was Zagreb, the capital of Croatia.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Venice: Dream's End
The train from Padova to Venice was packed so I had to stand for most of it, but was a short ride so I didn't mind. On arrival I noted how much better the Venice train station was looking compared to three years ago. When I came to Venice last time, the station was a chaotic mess due to renovation work being done on it and I had a hard time getting my next transit connection set up. This time everything seemed to be in order, however I wasn't going to be leaving Venice by train, so it really didn't matter. The hostel I was staying at was just beyond San Marco Square. Looking at the map it didn't seem like it's that far away, but I had forgotten just how long it takes to walk from the train station to San Marco. There are almost no straight/direct paths to anywhere in Venice. You also really need a detailed map if you're intending to walk anywhere other than the train station, the Rialto Bridge, or San Marco Square. Those places have signs directing you along the path but for anything else you'll need a map to navigate the maze that is Venice. When I got to San Marco Square I saw that it was partially flooded from the high tide that occurs at certain times of the year. Normally the drainage systems of the city send rainwater out into the lagoon, but during these high tides (called acqua alta) the water from the lagoon comes flooding in and can partially submerge the lower parts of the city. As Venice continues to slowly sink these events will come more regularly unless the government's efforts to set up tide barriers are successful. Venice is an almost dreamlike city and my favorite town in Italy, but the dream will likely one day come to an end.
After checking into my hostel, I set out on a similar mission to that which I had done when I arrived in Florence. I tracked down a gelato shop that I had enjoyed the last time I was in Venice and was glad to find them still in business. The gelato in Venice isn't as good as the gelato in Florence, but you can find quality shops if you know where to look. From there I set out to get intentionally lost, which isn't hard in Venice. I started wandering near the Rialto Bridge and turned down whatever street I felt like walking. A few hours later I wound up at the Accademia Bridge and put myself back on the grid. It was past 6:00pm at this point so I got dinner. Later that night I returned to San Marco Square. The tide had subsided and the elevated walking platforms had been taken down. The bands at the various restaurants were playing and I listened in while having some gelato. Back at the hostel I was up late doing both writing as well as uploading photos to social media. I would have rather gone to bed than manage photos on Facebook and Instagram, but I wanted to keep my "fanbase" up to date with what I had seen and done.
I had a few plans for what to do on the next day, but changed them during breakfast as I looked over the map and realized that there it made more sense to group certain together and postpone others to the following day. After leaving the hostel, I passed through San Marco Square. The line to get into the basilica extended around the side of the building and out of my line of sight, once again confirming the advice I've given other people; never do any of the sights on or near San Marco Square in the morning. I continued on and walked all the way around to the Grand Canal and then crossed over it, making my way towards the Santa Maria della Salute, a church at the bottom end of the canal. On the way my feet got soaked by a rogue wave that came up over the pavement. I got a few photos of the area before going into the church itself. Many churches in Venice are more historical sights than actual religious buildings and have entry fees, but thankfully Santa Maria della Salute is not one of them. After checking out the church I visited the Accademia Museum, which I had skipped on my previous visit to Venice. The museum specializes in art by Venetian artists from the middle ages through the high renaissance. It also has an unavoidable combo ticket with another museum, so the entry fee is higher than what I would normally have paid. I continued my exploration of the west end of Venice after finishing up at the museum. The gondola workshop I found on my last visit was still building and repairing gondolas and I passed by a college of some sort. Nearby there were a few students getting publicly hazed. I had read that in Italy this sort of thing sometimes happens at graduation, so maybe that was what was going on. Way out in western Venice you'll find hardly any tourists, as there's nothing to see other than apartment buildings. Walking out there felt like being in a ghost town and the silence was striking. Eventually I came back from that area and went over to Scuola San Rocco. If you look inside Scuola San Rocco from the entrance window you might wonder why this place is so highly rated in travel material, but if you pay the entry fee and go up to the second level you see why it is called the Sistine Chapel of Venice. The walls and ceiling are covered in dramatic paintings, and for me the best part was that nobody was enforcing the no-photo policy. I snapped a few shots and then just sat in a corner, staring at the ceiling. To help combat neck stress, there are a number of large mirrors lying around that you can borrow to more easily examine what's above you. The Scuola San Rocco also has a few small exhibits on the upper levels of the building but they're only worth a quick look. The San Rocco church next door also doesn't warrant much time, though it is free. The nearby Frari Church is not free, but if you have the time and money and want to see more Venetian art then by all means go in. It also appeared to have the tomb of Titian, but I could be wrong about that. The day was progressing quickly and it was already late afternoon when I left the Frari Church. I walked first to the Rialto Bridge and then back to San Marco Square. I had hoped to get there in time to enter the basilica but I got there too late and it was already closed for the day. After dark I went back to the area around Santa Maria della Salute to do some nighttime photography. My little camera was having trouble focusing of some objects, but on the plus side I was able to do a few experiments that would help with getting difficult photos later in the trip. Back at my hostel there was a group of Spanish teenagers making a lot of noise near the lobby. I'm guessing it was a school group, but like so many teenagers these days, most seemed addicted to their smartphones and alternated between talking loudly to each other and staring at their screens.
Most of the next day was spent exploring the lagoon of the greater Venice region. Normally I avoid the water buses in Venice because of how expensive they are, but on this day I bought a 24 hour pass and proceeded to max it out. I started one of the stations near San Marco Square and then rode on a water bus that was doing a clockwise loop through the western half of the city. The water bus that I got on was one of the older models with open air seating in the front, so I got a great view, but it was also a very windy day, so it got a bit cold where I was sitting. The water bus took me around the west edge and past the cruise ship dock. These parts of Venice don't get featured in travel material. The water bus continued on, passing under the causeway that links Venice to the mainland and came around to train station. Lots of people got on the water bus at the train station and then it went down the Grand Canal. It's one thing to look out on the Grand Canal from the sidelines. It's quite another thing to actually be in the middle of it with all the boats passing around you and being able to see all the people walking along the bridges and pathways. It took awhile, but the water bus got back to San Marco Square and I got off and then got on a different water bus which took me to San Giorgio Island. There's a church with a bell tower on the island that has possibly the best views of the city. The wind was still blowing strong so it got cold up there, and the noon bell went off just before I came down. Another water bus took me back to San Marco Square and then I got on another one that dropped me off at the Rialto Bridge. From there I walked to the north edge of the main islands. At the Fondemente Nova station I took a water bus to Isola di San Michele, a small island that holds Venice's main cemetery. As you can imagine, there's no room in the main part of Venice to bury people, so this entire island was converted to be the city's burial grounds. I only paid a short visit, but I can say that it's very beautiful. The next water bus took me further north to the island of Murano. Like Venice, Murano is actually not one, but many islands linked together. It is known for its glass-making shops, though there's only a few of them left. The vast majority of glass you'll see for sale in Venice is actually mass-produced over in Asia and then shipped in (this is also true of all those Carnival masks you see being sold all over Venice). I came across an actual glass workshop and got to see the guys inside blowing and molding the glass into the various shapes. The furnace was glowing hot and molten glass was oozing out of it. When I felt I had seen enough of Murano I got on another water bus in the direction of Burano. It was a 20 minute ride and along the way the water bus passed a few islands with the remains of old buildings on them. Burano is similar to Murano in that it's a small island cluster, but Burano is linked to other adjacent island clusters by a bridge. While Murano got famous for glass, Burano made its name with producing lace. Burano also has a leaning tower, but unlike the one in Pisa, no one seems to care about Burano's tower, which is just a church bell tower. Even way out in Burano there's still a decent number of tourists, but for me my favorite part of being out at Burano is actually not Burano itself, but the Mazzorbo island cluster next to it. There's a park there with a garden and vineyard on it, and not another tourist in sight. It's so strange to find such a quiet and peaceful place in the Venice region. I stayed awhile there and wished I could have stayed longer, but the day was wearing on and I wanted to get back to the main part of Venice by sunset. On the ride back, the water bus passed by Torcello, another island cluster near Burano which has the oldest settlements in Venice. It's mostly marshland and gives probably the closest look to what the Venice region looked like before it was developed. If I ever come back to Venice I'm going to try to get out there. When I finally got back to the north side of main Venice islands, I got on a water bus that took me around the east end of Venice. On the ride I was standing next to a young American couple who must have been in Venice on vacation and I remember the woman asking the man what he had learned on this trip, and him giving what I thought was an incredibly token/cliche answer. In his defense, I think he was caught off guard by that question, and he asked the same question of her, which generated a similar platitude. I arrived back at San Marco just as the sun was going down and got a few photos before grabbing dinner. I also got some interesting Italian toothpaste, which lasted me through the rest of the trip and I still have at my home for the moment. For my final water bus rides of the day, I went back up to the train station and then got on a water bus going down the Grand Canal. It was a nice ride, though the Grand Canal at night isn't as well lit and I thought it would be. The water bus stopped service at the Rialto Bridge and I walked back to San Marco Square from there. Some gelato and late night photo uploads finished off the day.
My departure from Venice the following day was not until the afternoon. During breakfast I was talking with one of the guys from my room and it turns out he lives in Oakland, so I might end of seeing him when I pay a visit to the Bay Area in December. On the rooftop of the hostel I was able to stage a photo of me sitting on a bench looking over the city. It took a number of attempts to get my GorillaPod properly mounted and the camera aimed at the right angle, but I was able to get a pretty good shot. I then went over to the eastern part of Venice and walked around there. Like the west end, there aren't too many tourists out there and it's a good place to go if you need a break. When I came back to San Marco Square I saw that the line to get into the Doge's Palace was short so I got in line and went in. The no-photo policy from the last time I was there had been removed and the route of the tour had been adjusted, cutting out the meager Doge Apartments which no one really cares about. Instead you get to go right to the Senate Chambers, which are the best part of the tour with their large rooms covered in gold and paintings. Afterwards you pass through the armory, the Bridge of Sighs,and the prison before leaving. I next went into the San Marco Basilica, whose no-photo policy was being enforced, resulting in me having to be sneaky. For me the most notable part of the church is the ceiling, which is a giant mosaic. The upper floor also has the bronze horses of Alexander the Great. When I finished in the basilica I walked across San Marco Square to the Correr Museum, which I visited mostly because it was part of the mandatory combo ticket for the Doge's Palace. The museum itself is fine, but mandatory combo tickets are always annoying. That said, if the Doge's Palace has a long line, you can skip it by going to the Correr Museum first and then bypassing the ticket line for the Doge's Palace. By now my time was running out so I went back to the hostel and got my backpack. I had to get to a ferry terminal in the southwest part of Venice, and on the way I got a slice of pizza and french fries for a quick meal. The fries were surprisingly good. In fact they were some of the best I've had anywhere, to the point where I felt back that I had to eat them quickly. At the ferry terminal I had to go through border control because I was going to Rovinj in Croatia, which is not part of the EU's free-movement group of countries. When I first landed in Paris in August I didn't get my passport stamped, (they were just letting people in) and this caused a little confusion with the immigration officers. After a minute of me explaining what happened, one of the officers said something to the other one and I was cleared to board the ferry. I got a window seat and as the ferry slowly left the city I took in my final view of Venice, and Italy. Next in line was Croatia, and my transition to Eastern Europe.
After checking into my hostel, I set out on a similar mission to that which I had done when I arrived in Florence. I tracked down a gelato shop that I had enjoyed the last time I was in Venice and was glad to find them still in business. The gelato in Venice isn't as good as the gelato in Florence, but you can find quality shops if you know where to look. From there I set out to get intentionally lost, which isn't hard in Venice. I started wandering near the Rialto Bridge and turned down whatever street I felt like walking. A few hours later I wound up at the Accademia Bridge and put myself back on the grid. It was past 6:00pm at this point so I got dinner. Later that night I returned to San Marco Square. The tide had subsided and the elevated walking platforms had been taken down. The bands at the various restaurants were playing and I listened in while having some gelato. Back at the hostel I was up late doing both writing as well as uploading photos to social media. I would have rather gone to bed than manage photos on Facebook and Instagram, but I wanted to keep my "fanbase" up to date with what I had seen and done.
I had a few plans for what to do on the next day, but changed them during breakfast as I looked over the map and realized that there it made more sense to group certain together and postpone others to the following day. After leaving the hostel, I passed through San Marco Square. The line to get into the basilica extended around the side of the building and out of my line of sight, once again confirming the advice I've given other people; never do any of the sights on or near San Marco Square in the morning. I continued on and walked all the way around to the Grand Canal and then crossed over it, making my way towards the Santa Maria della Salute, a church at the bottom end of the canal. On the way my feet got soaked by a rogue wave that came up over the pavement. I got a few photos of the area before going into the church itself. Many churches in Venice are more historical sights than actual religious buildings and have entry fees, but thankfully Santa Maria della Salute is not one of them. After checking out the church I visited the Accademia Museum, which I had skipped on my previous visit to Venice. The museum specializes in art by Venetian artists from the middle ages through the high renaissance. It also has an unavoidable combo ticket with another museum, so the entry fee is higher than what I would normally have paid. I continued my exploration of the west end of Venice after finishing up at the museum. The gondola workshop I found on my last visit was still building and repairing gondolas and I passed by a college of some sort. Nearby there were a few students getting publicly hazed. I had read that in Italy this sort of thing sometimes happens at graduation, so maybe that was what was going on. Way out in western Venice you'll find hardly any tourists, as there's nothing to see other than apartment buildings. Walking out there felt like being in a ghost town and the silence was striking. Eventually I came back from that area and went over to Scuola San Rocco. If you look inside Scuola San Rocco from the entrance window you might wonder why this place is so highly rated in travel material, but if you pay the entry fee and go up to the second level you see why it is called the Sistine Chapel of Venice. The walls and ceiling are covered in dramatic paintings, and for me the best part was that nobody was enforcing the no-photo policy. I snapped a few shots and then just sat in a corner, staring at the ceiling. To help combat neck stress, there are a number of large mirrors lying around that you can borrow to more easily examine what's above you. The Scuola San Rocco also has a few small exhibits on the upper levels of the building but they're only worth a quick look. The San Rocco church next door also doesn't warrant much time, though it is free. The nearby Frari Church is not free, but if you have the time and money and want to see more Venetian art then by all means go in. It also appeared to have the tomb of Titian, but I could be wrong about that. The day was progressing quickly and it was already late afternoon when I left the Frari Church. I walked first to the Rialto Bridge and then back to San Marco Square. I had hoped to get there in time to enter the basilica but I got there too late and it was already closed for the day. After dark I went back to the area around Santa Maria della Salute to do some nighttime photography. My little camera was having trouble focusing of some objects, but on the plus side I was able to do a few experiments that would help with getting difficult photos later in the trip. Back at my hostel there was a group of Spanish teenagers making a lot of noise near the lobby. I'm guessing it was a school group, but like so many teenagers these days, most seemed addicted to their smartphones and alternated between talking loudly to each other and staring at their screens.
Most of the next day was spent exploring the lagoon of the greater Venice region. Normally I avoid the water buses in Venice because of how expensive they are, but on this day I bought a 24 hour pass and proceeded to max it out. I started one of the stations near San Marco Square and then rode on a water bus that was doing a clockwise loop through the western half of the city. The water bus that I got on was one of the older models with open air seating in the front, so I got a great view, but it was also a very windy day, so it got a bit cold where I was sitting. The water bus took me around the west edge and past the cruise ship dock. These parts of Venice don't get featured in travel material. The water bus continued on, passing under the causeway that links Venice to the mainland and came around to train station. Lots of people got on the water bus at the train station and then it went down the Grand Canal. It's one thing to look out on the Grand Canal from the sidelines. It's quite another thing to actually be in the middle of it with all the boats passing around you and being able to see all the people walking along the bridges and pathways. It took awhile, but the water bus got back to San Marco Square and I got off and then got on a different water bus which took me to San Giorgio Island. There's a church with a bell tower on the island that has possibly the best views of the city. The wind was still blowing strong so it got cold up there, and the noon bell went off just before I came down. Another water bus took me back to San Marco Square and then I got on another one that dropped me off at the Rialto Bridge. From there I walked to the north edge of the main islands. At the Fondemente Nova station I took a water bus to Isola di San Michele, a small island that holds Venice's main cemetery. As you can imagine, there's no room in the main part of Venice to bury people, so this entire island was converted to be the city's burial grounds. I only paid a short visit, but I can say that it's very beautiful. The next water bus took me further north to the island of Murano. Like Venice, Murano is actually not one, but many islands linked together. It is known for its glass-making shops, though there's only a few of them left. The vast majority of glass you'll see for sale in Venice is actually mass-produced over in Asia and then shipped in (this is also true of all those Carnival masks you see being sold all over Venice). I came across an actual glass workshop and got to see the guys inside blowing and molding the glass into the various shapes. The furnace was glowing hot and molten glass was oozing out of it. When I felt I had seen enough of Murano I got on another water bus in the direction of Burano. It was a 20 minute ride and along the way the water bus passed a few islands with the remains of old buildings on them. Burano is similar to Murano in that it's a small island cluster, but Burano is linked to other adjacent island clusters by a bridge. While Murano got famous for glass, Burano made its name with producing lace. Burano also has a leaning tower, but unlike the one in Pisa, no one seems to care about Burano's tower, which is just a church bell tower. Even way out in Burano there's still a decent number of tourists, but for me my favorite part of being out at Burano is actually not Burano itself, but the Mazzorbo island cluster next to it. There's a park there with a garden and vineyard on it, and not another tourist in sight. It's so strange to find such a quiet and peaceful place in the Venice region. I stayed awhile there and wished I could have stayed longer, but the day was wearing on and I wanted to get back to the main part of Venice by sunset. On the ride back, the water bus passed by Torcello, another island cluster near Burano which has the oldest settlements in Venice. It's mostly marshland and gives probably the closest look to what the Venice region looked like before it was developed. If I ever come back to Venice I'm going to try to get out there. When I finally got back to the north side of main Venice islands, I got on a water bus that took me around the east end of Venice. On the ride I was standing next to a young American couple who must have been in Venice on vacation and I remember the woman asking the man what he had learned on this trip, and him giving what I thought was an incredibly token/cliche answer. In his defense, I think he was caught off guard by that question, and he asked the same question of her, which generated a similar platitude. I arrived back at San Marco just as the sun was going down and got a few photos before grabbing dinner. I also got some interesting Italian toothpaste, which lasted me through the rest of the trip and I still have at my home for the moment. For my final water bus rides of the day, I went back up to the train station and then got on a water bus going down the Grand Canal. It was a nice ride, though the Grand Canal at night isn't as well lit and I thought it would be. The water bus stopped service at the Rialto Bridge and I walked back to San Marco Square from there. Some gelato and late night photo uploads finished off the day.
My departure from Venice the following day was not until the afternoon. During breakfast I was talking with one of the guys from my room and it turns out he lives in Oakland, so I might end of seeing him when I pay a visit to the Bay Area in December. On the rooftop of the hostel I was able to stage a photo of me sitting on a bench looking over the city. It took a number of attempts to get my GorillaPod properly mounted and the camera aimed at the right angle, but I was able to get a pretty good shot. I then went over to the eastern part of Venice and walked around there. Like the west end, there aren't too many tourists out there and it's a good place to go if you need a break. When I came back to San Marco Square I saw that the line to get into the Doge's Palace was short so I got in line and went in. The no-photo policy from the last time I was there had been removed and the route of the tour had been adjusted, cutting out the meager Doge Apartments which no one really cares about. Instead you get to go right to the Senate Chambers, which are the best part of the tour with their large rooms covered in gold and paintings. Afterwards you pass through the armory, the Bridge of Sighs,and the prison before leaving. I next went into the San Marco Basilica, whose no-photo policy was being enforced, resulting in me having to be sneaky. For me the most notable part of the church is the ceiling, which is a giant mosaic. The upper floor also has the bronze horses of Alexander the Great. When I finished in the basilica I walked across San Marco Square to the Correr Museum, which I visited mostly because it was part of the mandatory combo ticket for the Doge's Palace. The museum itself is fine, but mandatory combo tickets are always annoying. That said, if the Doge's Palace has a long line, you can skip it by going to the Correr Museum first and then bypassing the ticket line for the Doge's Palace. By now my time was running out so I went back to the hostel and got my backpack. I had to get to a ferry terminal in the southwest part of Venice, and on the way I got a slice of pizza and french fries for a quick meal. The fries were surprisingly good. In fact they were some of the best I've had anywhere, to the point where I felt back that I had to eat them quickly. At the ferry terminal I had to go through border control because I was going to Rovinj in Croatia, which is not part of the EU's free-movement group of countries. When I first landed in Paris in August I didn't get my passport stamped, (they were just letting people in) and this caused a little confusion with the immigration officers. After a minute of me explaining what happened, one of the officers said something to the other one and I was cleared to board the ferry. I got a window seat and as the ferry slowly left the city I took in my final view of Venice, and Italy. Next in line was Croatia, and my transition to Eastern Europe.
Monday, November 23, 2015
Padova & Verona: Intermission
After Florence I stayed a couple of days in the city of Padova. I was making my way north to Venice, and on my previous trip I had skipped over the towns along the way, so I figured this time I would stop and pay a visit to two of them; Padova and Verona. Nothing too substantial happened in either one, but they offered a chance to see a part of Italy that I had missed on the last journey.
The city of Padova (aka Padua) is something of a college town and has a famous university that dates back to Renaissance times. It also has the creepiest hostel I stayed at during the entire trip, which I came to refer to as "the asylum" because it reminded me of a prison/mental hospital. After checking in and depositing my stuff at the hostel I spent the rest of the day checking out a few different things in Padova. I went over to Prato della Valle, which is a large park/plaza that used to be a Roman amphitheater and on certain days hosts an outdoor market. Near one end of the parkis Basilica di Santa Diustina, which is a large, spacious church with not too much in it. I noted that the exterior bricks have the mounts needed for a marble facade, but since there's no facade on the church I'm guessing this is another one of those churches that had the funding pulled right near the end of construction. I then went over to the Basilica of St Anthony, which was clearly well funded by its ornate interior and multiple domes. For some reason it has a no-photo policy (the bane of my existence!) so I had to be sneaky to grab a few shots. I ate dinner on a bench back in the main part of town near the city hall. The wifi at the hostel wasn't very strong, so I couldn't do too much uploading of photos, but on the plus side that meant I didn't have a reason to be up past midnight. I did notice that night that I had several mosquito bites on my feet, which probably happened in Florence. Thankfully there was no pain or itching, so I knew they would heal within a few days.
The next day was spent mostly in Verona. I used up the last travel day on my France and Italy rail pass for the roundtrip, since the train to Venice was only going to cost a few euro. Although Verona is well known as the town where Shakespeare's famous Romeo and Juliet play takes place, it has a lot more going on than just that. For example, it has the second best preserved Roman arena (after the Coliseum in Rome) in Europe. Today the arena hosts plays, concerts, and other functions. When I was there I saw a crew setting up the stage for some sort of performance and before I left Verona at the end of the day I passed by the arena and could hear the music of whatever band was performing that evening. After checking out the arena I walked over to Porta Borsari, a gate from the old Roman walls and then passed through it on my way to Piazza Erbe, one of the main squares of Verona. A short distance from the piazza is the Juliet House, which contains a courtyard and balcony that are supposed to be the ones from Shakespeare's play. There is absolutely no proof that this is true and I have no doubt that the owners of this property have profited handsomely from all the tourism that passes through. In the courtyard there's a statue of Juliet. If you take a look at it you'll notice that one of Juliet's breasts is shinier than the other, and that is because there's this thing where is you rub the breast you're supposed to find your love. A big crowd normally gathers in the courtyard and people stand around, waiting for a chance to pose for a photo with the statue. No, I did not rub the statue, in case you were wondering. I observed the scene for a few minutes before returning to Piazza Erbe and then climbing the Torre Lamberti. The tower has commanding views of the city and the surrounding countryside, though there's not as much to see as in places like Florence. The bell of the tower sounded at the half hour and took my and everyone else up there by surprise. I came down the tower and walked passed the elevated tombs of the Scaligeri Family. The Scaligeri dominated Verona in the 1300s and forced all the other noble families to dismantle their towers. Adding insult to injury, the bricks from those towers were then used to pave the streets of the city. Not far from the tombs, I passed a seemingly innocuous building on a street corner, but a tour group was standing around outside the building and I overheard the guide tell them that this was the Romeo House. While not all that interesting to me, this was one of many instances during the journey across Europe where I got some free tour guide information by simply listening in on a nearby tour group. I came next to the Sant Anastasia church; another one of those churches that spent more money on the interior than exterior. Someone was playing the giant organ, though I didn't recognize the tunes. It made start thinking about if anyone has done giant organ renditions of various songs. A lot popular songs probably wouldn't turn out very good, but I bet we could find a few that translate well. I imagine somewhere on the internet there's someone who's already tried this. Outside the church I crossed the Ponte Pietra bridge and went over to the Roman Theater, but is was closed for renovations. On the way back I nearby got bumped in the head by a kayak a guy was carrying around. I walked to the Verona duomo and also checked out the archaeological exhibit below the church. Like so many others, the Verona duomo is on top of the remains of an older church and archaeologists are carefully digging up the old one while making sure not to compromise the foundation of the new one. By the time I left the duomo it was the late afternoon and I decided to make the Castelvecchio fort my final sightseeing of the day. The fort itself isn't that big and the museum inside it has a modest collection of things to see, but you can go up on the ramparts. Behind the fort is a bridge which I went out on half way to get a photo of the fort, and then I made the walk all the way back to the arena. When I got there I still had a little time before I needed to return to the train station, so I listened in on the music coming out of the arena for awhile. The time for departure came soon enough, and I went back to the train station and returned to Padova.
Compared to the day in Verona, the following day in Padova was nowhere nearly as eventful. A lot of people do Padova as a daytrip from other places, and I can understand why. All the biggies can be seen in a few hours and then you can be on your way to other places. Having already seen a decent amount of Padova when I arrived, I spent part of the morning slowly uploading photos to Instagram. The main thing I did that day was my visit to the Scrovengi Chapel. You have to have a reservation to get in and if you miss your entry time you're out of luck. The chapel interior is covered in an impressive set of frescoes by a guy named Giotto di Bondone, a famous Renaissance painter. Apparently Giotto didn't have any formal training on how to paint - he just had an absurd level of natural talent. The chapel itself was commissioned by Enrico Scrovengi, whose father, Reginaldo, was a notorious loan shark. In fact, Reginaldo was so bad that he appears as one of the people suffering in Hell in Dante's epic poem Divine Comedy. Enrico hoped that building the church might somehow atone for his father's sins and more or less buy his soul out of hell. When you go to the chapel you first have to spend 15 minutes in a dehumidifying room. The frescoes in the chapel are very sensitive and exposure to excess moisture from the outside air will damage them. Once out of the dehumidifying room, the other people in the group and I got 15 minutes in the chapel before we had to leave to make room for the next group of visitors. 15 minutes is just long enough to take everything in, though I wouldn't have minded having a little longer. After the chapel, I visited a pair of museums that were covered as part of my entry to the chapel and later in the day I went over to an outdoor market which had been set up in the center of town. Normally I just walk around these markets and don't buy anything, but one stall was selling dried mango slices, which I love, so I bought some. For a few hours in the afternoon I just walked around Padova. Along the way I saw a long line of locals at a shop that was selling some sort of calzone-like thing. I got one myself, though I'm not totally sure what was in it. As best as I can tell, it had potato, meat, bits of tomato and some sort of sauce. It was tasty, so my small effort at trying local food paid off that time. Back at Prato della Valle there was another large outdoor market that had been set up, so I spent an hour looking around. That night after dinner I was uploading more photos to Instagram, but it was a slow process due to the limited wifi at the hostel and the fact that Instagram doesn't have a mass-upload function, so you have to do each photo individually.
The next day I got up and left for Venice. Padova and Verona had been decent stopovers, though I found Verona to be the more interesting of the two. The next city on the journey was the grand finale of my time in Italy: the lagoon city of Venice.
The city of Padova (aka Padua) is something of a college town and has a famous university that dates back to Renaissance times. It also has the creepiest hostel I stayed at during the entire trip, which I came to refer to as "the asylum" because it reminded me of a prison/mental hospital. After checking in and depositing my stuff at the hostel I spent the rest of the day checking out a few different things in Padova. I went over to Prato della Valle, which is a large park/plaza that used to be a Roman amphitheater and on certain days hosts an outdoor market. Near one end of the parkis Basilica di Santa Diustina, which is a large, spacious church with not too much in it. I noted that the exterior bricks have the mounts needed for a marble facade, but since there's no facade on the church I'm guessing this is another one of those churches that had the funding pulled right near the end of construction. I then went over to the Basilica of St Anthony, which was clearly well funded by its ornate interior and multiple domes. For some reason it has a no-photo policy (the bane of my existence!) so I had to be sneaky to grab a few shots. I ate dinner on a bench back in the main part of town near the city hall. The wifi at the hostel wasn't very strong, so I couldn't do too much uploading of photos, but on the plus side that meant I didn't have a reason to be up past midnight. I did notice that night that I had several mosquito bites on my feet, which probably happened in Florence. Thankfully there was no pain or itching, so I knew they would heal within a few days.
The next day was spent mostly in Verona. I used up the last travel day on my France and Italy rail pass for the roundtrip, since the train to Venice was only going to cost a few euro. Although Verona is well known as the town where Shakespeare's famous Romeo and Juliet play takes place, it has a lot more going on than just that. For example, it has the second best preserved Roman arena (after the Coliseum in Rome) in Europe. Today the arena hosts plays, concerts, and other functions. When I was there I saw a crew setting up the stage for some sort of performance and before I left Verona at the end of the day I passed by the arena and could hear the music of whatever band was performing that evening. After checking out the arena I walked over to Porta Borsari, a gate from the old Roman walls and then passed through it on my way to Piazza Erbe, one of the main squares of Verona. A short distance from the piazza is the Juliet House, which contains a courtyard and balcony that are supposed to be the ones from Shakespeare's play. There is absolutely no proof that this is true and I have no doubt that the owners of this property have profited handsomely from all the tourism that passes through. In the courtyard there's a statue of Juliet. If you take a look at it you'll notice that one of Juliet's breasts is shinier than the other, and that is because there's this thing where is you rub the breast you're supposed to find your love. A big crowd normally gathers in the courtyard and people stand around, waiting for a chance to pose for a photo with the statue. No, I did not rub the statue, in case you were wondering. I observed the scene for a few minutes before returning to Piazza Erbe and then climbing the Torre Lamberti. The tower has commanding views of the city and the surrounding countryside, though there's not as much to see as in places like Florence. The bell of the tower sounded at the half hour and took my and everyone else up there by surprise. I came down the tower and walked passed the elevated tombs of the Scaligeri Family. The Scaligeri dominated Verona in the 1300s and forced all the other noble families to dismantle their towers. Adding insult to injury, the bricks from those towers were then used to pave the streets of the city. Not far from the tombs, I passed a seemingly innocuous building on a street corner, but a tour group was standing around outside the building and I overheard the guide tell them that this was the Romeo House. While not all that interesting to me, this was one of many instances during the journey across Europe where I got some free tour guide information by simply listening in on a nearby tour group. I came next to the Sant Anastasia church; another one of those churches that spent more money on the interior than exterior. Someone was playing the giant organ, though I didn't recognize the tunes. It made start thinking about if anyone has done giant organ renditions of various songs. A lot popular songs probably wouldn't turn out very good, but I bet we could find a few that translate well. I imagine somewhere on the internet there's someone who's already tried this. Outside the church I crossed the Ponte Pietra bridge and went over to the Roman Theater, but is was closed for renovations. On the way back I nearby got bumped in the head by a kayak a guy was carrying around. I walked to the Verona duomo and also checked out the archaeological exhibit below the church. Like so many others, the Verona duomo is on top of the remains of an older church and archaeologists are carefully digging up the old one while making sure not to compromise the foundation of the new one. By the time I left the duomo it was the late afternoon and I decided to make the Castelvecchio fort my final sightseeing of the day. The fort itself isn't that big and the museum inside it has a modest collection of things to see, but you can go up on the ramparts. Behind the fort is a bridge which I went out on half way to get a photo of the fort, and then I made the walk all the way back to the arena. When I got there I still had a little time before I needed to return to the train station, so I listened in on the music coming out of the arena for awhile. The time for departure came soon enough, and I went back to the train station and returned to Padova.
Compared to the day in Verona, the following day in Padova was nowhere nearly as eventful. A lot of people do Padova as a daytrip from other places, and I can understand why. All the biggies can be seen in a few hours and then you can be on your way to other places. Having already seen a decent amount of Padova when I arrived, I spent part of the morning slowly uploading photos to Instagram. The main thing I did that day was my visit to the Scrovengi Chapel. You have to have a reservation to get in and if you miss your entry time you're out of luck. The chapel interior is covered in an impressive set of frescoes by a guy named Giotto di Bondone, a famous Renaissance painter. Apparently Giotto didn't have any formal training on how to paint - he just had an absurd level of natural talent. The chapel itself was commissioned by Enrico Scrovengi, whose father, Reginaldo, was a notorious loan shark. In fact, Reginaldo was so bad that he appears as one of the people suffering in Hell in Dante's epic poem Divine Comedy. Enrico hoped that building the church might somehow atone for his father's sins and more or less buy his soul out of hell. When you go to the chapel you first have to spend 15 minutes in a dehumidifying room. The frescoes in the chapel are very sensitive and exposure to excess moisture from the outside air will damage them. Once out of the dehumidifying room, the other people in the group and I got 15 minutes in the chapel before we had to leave to make room for the next group of visitors. 15 minutes is just long enough to take everything in, though I wouldn't have minded having a little longer. After the chapel, I visited a pair of museums that were covered as part of my entry to the chapel and later in the day I went over to an outdoor market which had been set up in the center of town. Normally I just walk around these markets and don't buy anything, but one stall was selling dried mango slices, which I love, so I bought some. For a few hours in the afternoon I just walked around Padova. Along the way I saw a long line of locals at a shop that was selling some sort of calzone-like thing. I got one myself, though I'm not totally sure what was in it. As best as I can tell, it had potato, meat, bits of tomato and some sort of sauce. It was tasty, so my small effort at trying local food paid off that time. Back at Prato della Valle there was another large outdoor market that had been set up, so I spent an hour looking around. That night after dinner I was uploading more photos to Instagram, but it was a slow process due to the limited wifi at the hostel and the fact that Instagram doesn't have a mass-upload function, so you have to do each photo individually.
The next day I got up and left for Venice. Padova and Verona had been decent stopovers, though I found Verona to be the more interesting of the two. The next city on the journey was the grand finale of my time in Italy: the lagoon city of Venice.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Florence: Priorities
Leaving behind the Siena, I arrived in Florence in the midafternoon. Having been there on the previous trip, the whole place felt very familiar and I easily navigated to the area near the duomo, where my hostel was located. Whenever I arrive at a new place I normally spend some time getting a lot of mundane things done so that I can dedicate the rest of my time to sightseeing or whatever else I have planned. Florence was the same but in this case after I had checked in and unpacked I didn't start my sightseeing time by visiting a museum or church or monument. No, the first order of business was to walk down to the south side of the Arno River and confirm if my favorite gelato shop was still open. A man has to have priorities. I got there and was delighted to find that it was still open for business. For those that don't know, Florence is the motherland of gelato. There are shops everywhere and the quality is arguably the best you'll find anywhere. The particular shop that I love, called La Carraia, was my favorite gelato shop on my previous trip and it still holds that title. I came back to this place over and over again, even though it's kind of out of the way from the main historic part of the city. Anyways, with the most important business taken care of, I walked over to the Piazza Michelangelo viewpoint which has a great view of the city and I got photos while it was still daylight. I remember that place because there's a bronze replica of the David statue there, standing in the middle of a parking lot. The day ended and I was able to get some blogging done after dinner. And I got more gelato.
The first full day in Florence was spent doing a sightseeing blitz, similar to what I normally do in cities like Paris. With the duomo so close to my hostel, it was the natural first objective and I got in line for climbing the dome a few minutes before it opened. The last time I was in Florence I had skipped climbing the dome because it normally has a long, slow moving line and the view from the bell tower is just as good with a shorter line, but the city had made entry into the duomo-related sights covered by a single combo-ticket, (with no individual ticket sales) so I felt like I had to do it to justify the purchase. Getting in line early in the day proved to be the right call, as when the dome opened a lot of people in front of me got to enter right away, meaning the wait for my entry wasn't very long. Climbing up the church to the dome gets a bit cramped but you do get to up close with the church's architecture and better appreciate what was, at the time of construction, an incredible feat or design and engineering. The views from the top of the dome are good, but because of how popular the dome is, it gets very crowded up there. I came down from the dome and walked over to a few nearby places, since the main part of the duomo itself wasn't open yet. I paid a visit to the unfinished San Lorenzo church (it's unfinished in that it never got a facade) and then checked out the stalls outside the Mercato Centrale covered market. Bags, belts, jackets, hats, etc - all the typical stuff. The Mercato Centrale is itself an indoor food market and food court, similar to the indoor markets you find in places like Madrid. When I was done browsing I returned to the now open duomo. The interior of the duomo isn't as impressive as one would think from looking at the outside. Most of the art is housed in the duomo museum, so what you're looking at is mostly empty space. Directly underneath the duomo, and accessed by a stairwell inside the duomo, is Santa Restorata, an archaeological excavation of the of the older and medieval churches that the duomo is built on top of. Stepping out of the duomo, I next went into the adjacent baptistery, whose ceiling is covered in mosaics that remind me of the ones in the Basilica San Marco in Venice. As I learned, that's no coincidence - Florence hired artists from Venice to do the ceiling. While great to look at, admiring the ceiling will leave your neck hurting from constantly looking up. I then went over to the small Orsan-Michele church and then visited the Bargello Museum, which is sort of like the Accademia Museum in that it is mostly dedicated to sculpture but it's nowhere nearly as crowded as the Accademia. Speaking of which, it was getting close to my reserved entry time for the Accademia, but I realized it had been a few hours since I had last had gelato, so I fixed that problem before heading over. I got to the Accademia with some time to spare, so I checked out the nearby Piazza S.S. Annunziata for a few minutes and then came back. While you don't need a reservation to get into the Accademia, it is generally advised to have one. Otherwise, you're looking at a 1 to 2 hour wait to get in. The Accademia Museum has a number of things in it, but the main reason people come is to see Michelangelo's famous David statue. While it is true that there's other great stuff in there besides David, I think we all know that if the Accademia didn't have David, then it wouldn't get nearly as many visitors. The last time I was at the Accademia there was a no-photo policy, but since then it had been lifted, so I could freely grab snapshots and not have to be sneaky. I've always thought the layout of the Accademia was weird in that you get to David pretty quickly. On one hand you get to see the main attraction early on, but on the other hand, after you've seen David, everything else seems second-rate by comparison. After I finished at the Accademia I walked down to Florence's other leading museum, the Uffizi Gallery. The Uffizi is probably the best collection of Renaissance artwork anywhere, and like the Accademia it's best to reserve an entry time so that you don't waste an hour or two standing in line. I spent just under two hours inside the Uffizi, and would have stayed a little longer but I needed to get over to the duomo bell tower before the sun got too low in the sky. I climbed the bell tower, which is just slightly lower than the viewing area of the duomo dome, but personally I think the view from the tower is better, as you can see the dome itself. It's also not as crowded as the dome, so you normally don't have to wait long to get in. The sun went down a short while after I came down from the tower and I returned to the hostel for dinner. Later that night I went back to Piazza Michelangelo to check out the view of Florence at night. I also got more gelato. Actually, it should go without saying that I got gelato many more times than I've mentioned, but I figured it's probably better to not have every other sentence being about me getting gelato, so just assume as you're reading this that I got more gelato every few hours.
The next day I slept in a little. Rain was forecasted for the day, which was part of the reason I had gone full-speed the day before. I was over at the Piazza di Santa Maria Novella around 11:00am when the rain finally started. Fortunately for me, I was going to spend much of the day over in the town of Lucca, where it was not raining. It takes about 1.5 hours to get to Lucca from Florence. There's not too much to do there, but the town's claim to fame is its old city walls, which it never took down. Being Renaissance-style walls, they are shorter than medieval walls but much wider (this was in response to the development of cannons). Lucca turned its walls into a ring path and park that surrounds the historic core of the city, and I walked the entire length. The comparative peace and quiet of Lucca was a nice break from the crowds and noise of Florence, and after finished the loop on the walls I came down and did a self-guided walk through the old town. I passed by the San Martino Cathedral and through Piazza San Michele, and continued through the town until I finished over at Piazza dell Anfiteatro, which was originally a Roman amphitheater but is now an elliptical-shaped plaza. Other than entering a few churches and getting gelato I can't say I did too much in Lucca, but I still enjoyed my time. I had been feeling tired from staying up late working on the blog the previous two nights, so a less intense day was in order. Around the later afternoon I got on a train back to Florence and finished up the day there.
The following morning it occurred to me that it had been nearly a month since I had left America. It didn't feel like it had been a month, but the calendar doesn't lie. I had a few hours in the morning before leaving Florence for my next destination, so I walked all the way out to the San Miniato church, which is just beyond Piazza Michelangelo. There I did a little reading after checking out the church and I also took in one final viewing of Florence from the viewpoint. I came down and walked around the south side of the Arno River and paid a final visit to La Carraia for my final gelato stop in Florence. I then went back to the hostel and got my backpack and went over to the train station. The city of Padova awaited me.
The first full day in Florence was spent doing a sightseeing blitz, similar to what I normally do in cities like Paris. With the duomo so close to my hostel, it was the natural first objective and I got in line for climbing the dome a few minutes before it opened. The last time I was in Florence I had skipped climbing the dome because it normally has a long, slow moving line and the view from the bell tower is just as good with a shorter line, but the city had made entry into the duomo-related sights covered by a single combo-ticket, (with no individual ticket sales) so I felt like I had to do it to justify the purchase. Getting in line early in the day proved to be the right call, as when the dome opened a lot of people in front of me got to enter right away, meaning the wait for my entry wasn't very long. Climbing up the church to the dome gets a bit cramped but you do get to up close with the church's architecture and better appreciate what was, at the time of construction, an incredible feat or design and engineering. The views from the top of the dome are good, but because of how popular the dome is, it gets very crowded up there. I came down from the dome and walked over to a few nearby places, since the main part of the duomo itself wasn't open yet. I paid a visit to the unfinished San Lorenzo church (it's unfinished in that it never got a facade) and then checked out the stalls outside the Mercato Centrale covered market. Bags, belts, jackets, hats, etc - all the typical stuff. The Mercato Centrale is itself an indoor food market and food court, similar to the indoor markets you find in places like Madrid. When I was done browsing I returned to the now open duomo. The interior of the duomo isn't as impressive as one would think from looking at the outside. Most of the art is housed in the duomo museum, so what you're looking at is mostly empty space. Directly underneath the duomo, and accessed by a stairwell inside the duomo, is Santa Restorata, an archaeological excavation of the of the older and medieval churches that the duomo is built on top of. Stepping out of the duomo, I next went into the adjacent baptistery, whose ceiling is covered in mosaics that remind me of the ones in the Basilica San Marco in Venice. As I learned, that's no coincidence - Florence hired artists from Venice to do the ceiling. While great to look at, admiring the ceiling will leave your neck hurting from constantly looking up. I then went over to the small Orsan-Michele church and then visited the Bargello Museum, which is sort of like the Accademia Museum in that it is mostly dedicated to sculpture but it's nowhere nearly as crowded as the Accademia. Speaking of which, it was getting close to my reserved entry time for the Accademia, but I realized it had been a few hours since I had last had gelato, so I fixed that problem before heading over. I got to the Accademia with some time to spare, so I checked out the nearby Piazza S.S. Annunziata for a few minutes and then came back. While you don't need a reservation to get into the Accademia, it is generally advised to have one. Otherwise, you're looking at a 1 to 2 hour wait to get in. The Accademia Museum has a number of things in it, but the main reason people come is to see Michelangelo's famous David statue. While it is true that there's other great stuff in there besides David, I think we all know that if the Accademia didn't have David, then it wouldn't get nearly as many visitors. The last time I was at the Accademia there was a no-photo policy, but since then it had been lifted, so I could freely grab snapshots and not have to be sneaky. I've always thought the layout of the Accademia was weird in that you get to David pretty quickly. On one hand you get to see the main attraction early on, but on the other hand, after you've seen David, everything else seems second-rate by comparison. After I finished at the Accademia I walked down to Florence's other leading museum, the Uffizi Gallery. The Uffizi is probably the best collection of Renaissance artwork anywhere, and like the Accademia it's best to reserve an entry time so that you don't waste an hour or two standing in line. I spent just under two hours inside the Uffizi, and would have stayed a little longer but I needed to get over to the duomo bell tower before the sun got too low in the sky. I climbed the bell tower, which is just slightly lower than the viewing area of the duomo dome, but personally I think the view from the tower is better, as you can see the dome itself. It's also not as crowded as the dome, so you normally don't have to wait long to get in. The sun went down a short while after I came down from the tower and I returned to the hostel for dinner. Later that night I went back to Piazza Michelangelo to check out the view of Florence at night. I also got more gelato. Actually, it should go without saying that I got gelato many more times than I've mentioned, but I figured it's probably better to not have every other sentence being about me getting gelato, so just assume as you're reading this that I got more gelato every few hours.
The next day I slept in a little. Rain was forecasted for the day, which was part of the reason I had gone full-speed the day before. I was over at the Piazza di Santa Maria Novella around 11:00am when the rain finally started. Fortunately for me, I was going to spend much of the day over in the town of Lucca, where it was not raining. It takes about 1.5 hours to get to Lucca from Florence. There's not too much to do there, but the town's claim to fame is its old city walls, which it never took down. Being Renaissance-style walls, they are shorter than medieval walls but much wider (this was in response to the development of cannons). Lucca turned its walls into a ring path and park that surrounds the historic core of the city, and I walked the entire length. The comparative peace and quiet of Lucca was a nice break from the crowds and noise of Florence, and after finished the loop on the walls I came down and did a self-guided walk through the old town. I passed by the San Martino Cathedral and through Piazza San Michele, and continued through the town until I finished over at Piazza dell Anfiteatro, which was originally a Roman amphitheater but is now an elliptical-shaped plaza. Other than entering a few churches and getting gelato I can't say I did too much in Lucca, but I still enjoyed my time. I had been feeling tired from staying up late working on the blog the previous two nights, so a less intense day was in order. Around the later afternoon I got on a train back to Florence and finished up the day there.
The following morning it occurred to me that it had been nearly a month since I had left America. It didn't feel like it had been a month, but the calendar doesn't lie. I had a few hours in the morning before leaving Florence for my next destination, so I walked all the way out to the San Miniato church, which is just beyond Piazza Michelangelo. There I did a little reading after checking out the church and I also took in one final viewing of Florence from the viewpoint. I came down and walked around the south side of the Arno River and paid a final visit to La Carraia for my final gelato stop in Florence. I then went back to the hostel and got my backpack and went over to the train station. The city of Padova awaited me.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Siena: The Battle of Tuscany
After leaving the Cinque Terre I made my way into Tuscany. The next city I was visiting was Siena, but along the way I changed trains in Pisa and I took the chance to pay a quick visit to the Leaning Tower. I know some people may disagree with me on this, but personally I think the Leaning Tower is the only thing Pisa has going for it. During the 20 minute walk from the train station to the tower, I didn't see anything that caught my attention or seemed like it would be worth investigating. The tower itself makes for a good photo but you have to pay to go up it and that doesn't make any sense, since the only thing worth seeing is the tower and when you're in the tower, you can't see the tower. A much more entertaining than climbing the tower is watching all the other tourists pose for photos. I got my photos of the tower and the surrounding buildings and then returned to the train station to catch a train to Siena.
Like many towns in Tuscany, Siena is up on a hill (at least, the old part of it is). For a time it was a regional rival of Florence, but it never recovered from the Black Death in the 1300s and was later subjugated by Florence in the 1500s. I stayed in a B&B near the train station, just outside the old city walls and on the first night I was there I took a walk through town. On that walk I came across a place called Grom, which is an international chain of gelato shops. Three years ago, before they got really big, I visit a Grom in Florence and was displeased due to what I viewed as an insufficient amount of gelato for what I paid. This sparked the whole concept of "Grom scoops" which I use to refer to anything that is too small for what I paid. I decided I would pay Grom a visit another day and give them another chance. Later that night I found that four of the apps on my phone decided to issue updates on the same day and with the modest wifi at the B&B, it took a long time to get the updates and be able to use those apps again. Somehow these apps always seem to wait for when I'm in a place with bad wifi to issue mandatory updates.
The next day began what I would later call the Battle of Tuscany. My plan was to be doing a pair of day trips from Siena to nearby towns, however it felt like I had to go to war with the regional bus network in order to make them happen. On this day I was planning on visiting Volterra but I missed the morning bus. As it turns out, it wouldn't have mattered if I had been there on time. Looking over the bus schedule, I saw that there was a bus to my planned destination for the next day, San Gimignano, a little later, so I figured I would catch that bus but it turns out you can't buy tickets from the driver. I went over to the Siena tourist info center to get more information on the bus system and was directed to Siena's main bus station, but I couldn't find the ticket office. Back at my B&B, the staff informed me that the reason I couldn't find the ticket office is because the station is one level underground below the bus area, so I went back and after some searching found the stairs down to the ticket office. There was one more afternoon bus out to San Gimignano, so I got a ticket for that and went to the bus stop where it was supposed to arrive. I was a little exasperated at this point, but I also wasn't going to be denied again, so I just stood there and waited until the bus showed up. The ride to San Gimignano was about 1.5 hours and I had to stand for most of the duration due to the bus being full. Although some of you may not know where San Gimignano is, a lot you probably recognize it from photos. It's the Italian town with all the towers. Originally there were 72 of them, but today there are only 14. As one of the easier Tuscan hill towns to reach, San Gimignano is overrun by the tourist horde and full of shops profiting from tourism. Even so, if you can ignore those things it's still worth a visit. Mostly clear skies that day made for some good photos of the town with its towers rising like giant spikes above the other buildings. The San Gimignano Civic Museum occupies the tallest remaining tower and I went inside in order to climb it and get a view of the surrounding countryside. By midafternoon I was largely finished with San Gimignano so I wrapped up my visit and returned to Siena. There I gave Grom its second chance. I'm pleased to say I got bigger scoops this time, though it still costs a lot and I think the quality has taken a hit. I really don't understand Grom's popularity as it's one of the pricier gelato shops and the quality of the gelato doesn't justify the price you pay for it.
Day three of my time in Siena saw a continuation of the Battle of Tuscany. I was better about getting ready for the day and got to the bus station a few minutes before the scheduled arrival of the bus to Volterra. Then I waited. And waited. And kept waiting. And... the bus never came. I stood around for over half an hour and no bus showed up. It got to the point where even if the bus showed up it would be too late; I would miss the connecting bus in Colle di Val d'Elsa. I was peeved, but on the plus side while I was waiting I was able to help a pair of (American?) women who were looking for a particular bus to Florence. I went back to the B&B and after some research online I found that the next time I could get out to Volterra was early afternoon. That left me with a few hours to kill. My plan had been to save Siena's big sights for the next day, so I walked around town and took in some of the lesser sights. I stopped by the San Domenico church, which holds the skull of St Catherine, a nun known for her peacemaking efforts and then went past the Siena soccer field and the town fort all the way over to the San Fransesco church. I'm guessing the San Francesco church doesn't get as many visitors as other places because it's kind of out of the way but it's worth the effort to come and see. I came to Piazza Mateotti, where there was some sort of fitness expo going on, and there were also guys gathering signatures for an anti-drug petition. "You, sign against the drugs!" I would hear them say. I always wanted to respond "but, I love cocaine!" I actually don't know what drugs they were campaigning against, but I assume the illegal ones. After some more walking it was time to get to the bus stop and I got there 15 minutes early just to be safe. Wouldn't you know it, this bus showed up exactly on time. It took me to Colle di Val d'Elsa, a town where many bus routes connect but otherwise doesn't seem to have anything else going on. I waited around for the connecting bus and then rode it out to Volterra. The hill town of Volterra has only about 11,000 residents and a small historic core. Still, I had to rush through it because the last bus of the day back to Colle di Val d'Elsa was only 1.5 hours after my arrival. Had that morning bus shown up I would have been able to do a proper visit, but I just had to hurry and see as much as I could. I walked quickly through Volterra, going through the old entry arch, visiting the town cathedral and baptistery, looking over the ruins of the Roman amphitheater, popping into an alabaster showroom, and climbing the tower at the city hall. I felt like I saw a good amount of Volterra, but I had also skipped a number of things like the Etruscan Museum which I would have gone to if there was time. When time was up I went back to the Volterra bus stop and while waiting I met a pair of Texans, a father and his daughter, who were spending a week in Italy for vacation and cycling. By the time I got back to Siena it was about 7:00pm but I felt like staying out a bit longer, so I walked over to Il Campo, the main square of Siena, and spent some time there before returning to the B&B.
My final day in Siena was notable for the fact that I was finally doing stuff in Siena. Normally I would do sightseeing in the main town first before doing side trips, however it made more sense to do the San Gimignano and Volterra trips first, since my final day was on a Sunday and bus services are reduced on Sundays. I started out back at Il Campo and went up the tower before visiting the Civic Museum, which has a collection of medieval and renaissance art from Siena's heyday. My entry to the Civic Museum also got me entry into the Santa Maria Della Scala museum, which is right next to the duomo. That museum holds a bunch of art that used to be hung way up high in the duomo, where no one could see it, as well as the original stonework of the Fonte Gaia fountain which is on Il Campo. The stone blocks used for the original Fonte Gaia were not the highest quality and over hundreds of years became badly eroded, but the city was able to recover the casts used during the fountain's construction and thus create an exact duplicate, which is what is on Il Campo today. For lunch I grabbed a single slice of pizza and then returned to sightseeing over at the duomo. The Siena duomo was built on the tallest point of the city, but there was very little flat ground there, so parts of the church, such as the baptistery, are below the main part and provide the support columns to hold those sections not on level terrain. The church was also intended to be much bigger. When Florence built its massive duomo, Siena decided it was going to expand its own duomo to create the largest church on Earth, but the advent of the Black Death scuttled the project before it could get far. One part of a new wall got built and you can still see where the new sections would have been. The outside of the Siena duomo looks much like the one in Florence, minus the dome, but the inside is much more ornate (granted, that's mostly because in Florence most of the art inside the duomo was moved into a museum). I spent a few hours in the various parts of the duomo and when I came out I went back over to Il Campo, where I saw that a section of the square had been roped off and people were starting to gather. Though I didn't know what was going on, I decided to stick around and awhile later a marching band with flag bearers came along and then a parade of guys with the flags of the 17 neighborhoods in Siena showed up. One of the guys was standing right in front of me and the wind kept blowing the flag into me. There was some sort of ceremony going on but since I don't speak Italian I don't know what it was for. As best as I could tell, the city was giving out commendations for people who did something and when it was over the band and the flag guys marched off. I started walking down one of the main streets in the old city when I heard the marching band coming up behind me, along with a bunch of people singing. They were going my way, so for a few minutes it was like I was marching with them, until they turned onto some other street and went marching off to who knows where. After dinner I went out for gelato and then spent some time sitting on Il Campo (for those who don't know, Il Campo is one of the few main squares in Europe where it's completely acceptable to just take a seat like you're on the beach). I then went back to the B&B and ended the day.
The following morning I packed and did some reading at a park before getting on the train to Florence, to topic of the next post. Stay tuned.
Like many towns in Tuscany, Siena is up on a hill (at least, the old part of it is). For a time it was a regional rival of Florence, but it never recovered from the Black Death in the 1300s and was later subjugated by Florence in the 1500s. I stayed in a B&B near the train station, just outside the old city walls and on the first night I was there I took a walk through town. On that walk I came across a place called Grom, which is an international chain of gelato shops. Three years ago, before they got really big, I visit a Grom in Florence and was displeased due to what I viewed as an insufficient amount of gelato for what I paid. This sparked the whole concept of "Grom scoops" which I use to refer to anything that is too small for what I paid. I decided I would pay Grom a visit another day and give them another chance. Later that night I found that four of the apps on my phone decided to issue updates on the same day and with the modest wifi at the B&B, it took a long time to get the updates and be able to use those apps again. Somehow these apps always seem to wait for when I'm in a place with bad wifi to issue mandatory updates.
The next day began what I would later call the Battle of Tuscany. My plan was to be doing a pair of day trips from Siena to nearby towns, however it felt like I had to go to war with the regional bus network in order to make them happen. On this day I was planning on visiting Volterra but I missed the morning bus. As it turns out, it wouldn't have mattered if I had been there on time. Looking over the bus schedule, I saw that there was a bus to my planned destination for the next day, San Gimignano, a little later, so I figured I would catch that bus but it turns out you can't buy tickets from the driver. I went over to the Siena tourist info center to get more information on the bus system and was directed to Siena's main bus station, but I couldn't find the ticket office. Back at my B&B, the staff informed me that the reason I couldn't find the ticket office is because the station is one level underground below the bus area, so I went back and after some searching found the stairs down to the ticket office. There was one more afternoon bus out to San Gimignano, so I got a ticket for that and went to the bus stop where it was supposed to arrive. I was a little exasperated at this point, but I also wasn't going to be denied again, so I just stood there and waited until the bus showed up. The ride to San Gimignano was about 1.5 hours and I had to stand for most of the duration due to the bus being full. Although some of you may not know where San Gimignano is, a lot you probably recognize it from photos. It's the Italian town with all the towers. Originally there were 72 of them, but today there are only 14. As one of the easier Tuscan hill towns to reach, San Gimignano is overrun by the tourist horde and full of shops profiting from tourism. Even so, if you can ignore those things it's still worth a visit. Mostly clear skies that day made for some good photos of the town with its towers rising like giant spikes above the other buildings. The San Gimignano Civic Museum occupies the tallest remaining tower and I went inside in order to climb it and get a view of the surrounding countryside. By midafternoon I was largely finished with San Gimignano so I wrapped up my visit and returned to Siena. There I gave Grom its second chance. I'm pleased to say I got bigger scoops this time, though it still costs a lot and I think the quality has taken a hit. I really don't understand Grom's popularity as it's one of the pricier gelato shops and the quality of the gelato doesn't justify the price you pay for it.
Day three of my time in Siena saw a continuation of the Battle of Tuscany. I was better about getting ready for the day and got to the bus station a few minutes before the scheduled arrival of the bus to Volterra. Then I waited. And waited. And kept waiting. And... the bus never came. I stood around for over half an hour and no bus showed up. It got to the point where even if the bus showed up it would be too late; I would miss the connecting bus in Colle di Val d'Elsa. I was peeved, but on the plus side while I was waiting I was able to help a pair of (American?) women who were looking for a particular bus to Florence. I went back to the B&B and after some research online I found that the next time I could get out to Volterra was early afternoon. That left me with a few hours to kill. My plan had been to save Siena's big sights for the next day, so I walked around town and took in some of the lesser sights. I stopped by the San Domenico church, which holds the skull of St Catherine, a nun known for her peacemaking efforts and then went past the Siena soccer field and the town fort all the way over to the San Fransesco church. I'm guessing the San Francesco church doesn't get as many visitors as other places because it's kind of out of the way but it's worth the effort to come and see. I came to Piazza Mateotti, where there was some sort of fitness expo going on, and there were also guys gathering signatures for an anti-drug petition. "You, sign against the drugs!" I would hear them say. I always wanted to respond "but, I love cocaine!" I actually don't know what drugs they were campaigning against, but I assume the illegal ones. After some more walking it was time to get to the bus stop and I got there 15 minutes early just to be safe. Wouldn't you know it, this bus showed up exactly on time. It took me to Colle di Val d'Elsa, a town where many bus routes connect but otherwise doesn't seem to have anything else going on. I waited around for the connecting bus and then rode it out to Volterra. The hill town of Volterra has only about 11,000 residents and a small historic core. Still, I had to rush through it because the last bus of the day back to Colle di Val d'Elsa was only 1.5 hours after my arrival. Had that morning bus shown up I would have been able to do a proper visit, but I just had to hurry and see as much as I could. I walked quickly through Volterra, going through the old entry arch, visiting the town cathedral and baptistery, looking over the ruins of the Roman amphitheater, popping into an alabaster showroom, and climbing the tower at the city hall. I felt like I saw a good amount of Volterra, but I had also skipped a number of things like the Etruscan Museum which I would have gone to if there was time. When time was up I went back to the Volterra bus stop and while waiting I met a pair of Texans, a father and his daughter, who were spending a week in Italy for vacation and cycling. By the time I got back to Siena it was about 7:00pm but I felt like staying out a bit longer, so I walked over to Il Campo, the main square of Siena, and spent some time there before returning to the B&B.
My final day in Siena was notable for the fact that I was finally doing stuff in Siena. Normally I would do sightseeing in the main town first before doing side trips, however it made more sense to do the San Gimignano and Volterra trips first, since my final day was on a Sunday and bus services are reduced on Sundays. I started out back at Il Campo and went up the tower before visiting the Civic Museum, which has a collection of medieval and renaissance art from Siena's heyday. My entry to the Civic Museum also got me entry into the Santa Maria Della Scala museum, which is right next to the duomo. That museum holds a bunch of art that used to be hung way up high in the duomo, where no one could see it, as well as the original stonework of the Fonte Gaia fountain which is on Il Campo. The stone blocks used for the original Fonte Gaia were not the highest quality and over hundreds of years became badly eroded, but the city was able to recover the casts used during the fountain's construction and thus create an exact duplicate, which is what is on Il Campo today. For lunch I grabbed a single slice of pizza and then returned to sightseeing over at the duomo. The Siena duomo was built on the tallest point of the city, but there was very little flat ground there, so parts of the church, such as the baptistery, are below the main part and provide the support columns to hold those sections not on level terrain. The church was also intended to be much bigger. When Florence built its massive duomo, Siena decided it was going to expand its own duomo to create the largest church on Earth, but the advent of the Black Death scuttled the project before it could get far. One part of a new wall got built and you can still see where the new sections would have been. The outside of the Siena duomo looks much like the one in Florence, minus the dome, but the inside is much more ornate (granted, that's mostly because in Florence most of the art inside the duomo was moved into a museum). I spent a few hours in the various parts of the duomo and when I came out I went back over to Il Campo, where I saw that a section of the square had been roped off and people were starting to gather. Though I didn't know what was going on, I decided to stick around and awhile later a marching band with flag bearers came along and then a parade of guys with the flags of the 17 neighborhoods in Siena showed up. One of the guys was standing right in front of me and the wind kept blowing the flag into me. There was some sort of ceremony going on but since I don't speak Italian I don't know what it was for. As best as I could tell, the city was giving out commendations for people who did something and when it was over the band and the flag guys marched off. I started walking down one of the main streets in the old city when I heard the marching band coming up behind me, along with a bunch of people singing. They were going my way, so for a few minutes it was like I was marching with them, until they turned onto some other street and went marching off to who knows where. After dinner I went out for gelato and then spent some time sitting on Il Campo (for those who don't know, Il Campo is one of the few main squares in Europe where it's completely acceptable to just take a seat like you're on the beach). I then went back to the B&B and ended the day.
The following morning I packed and did some reading at a park before getting on the train to Florence, to topic of the next post. Stay tuned.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Cinque Terre: Ascension
So begins the catch-up period of the Europe Trip 2015 blog posts. Like the other posts, this one hasn't been proofread, so apologies in advance for typos.
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I had planned out the train ride from Milan to Vernazza, Italy, and it involved a transfer down the line, however my first train was running 15 minutes late, which would mean I would miss the connecting train and have to wait an hour or two for the next one. I quickly looked over train schedules to see if I could find a workaround and found that if I rode the train a few more stops down the line I might be able to then get on another one that would take me right away to Vernazza. The time gap was very small, and when I got to the station it seemed like my plan had failed since the first train hadn't made up any time on route, but I found that the train I was hoping to catch was itself a little behind schedule, so I got on and soon arrived in Vernazza. The tourist horde was swarming the town when I got into town, giving me a preview of what to expect during most daytime hours in this part of Italy.
Vernazza is one of five small coastal towns in what is called the Cinque Terre (aka, the Italian Riviera). If you laid them out from west to east, Vernazza would be the second from the left. These towns for centuries were difficult to reach from the rest of Italy other than by boat due the mountainous coastal terrain they were built on, but around the end of the 1800s construction of rail lines began, and these days you can reach them without too much trouble by either car or train. The Cinque Terre has been thoroughly discovered by the tourism industry and every year these little towns are overwhelmed by tour groups and individuals coming to experience the towns and hike the surrounding mountains. No doubt many travel snobs and others lament the Cinque Terre being "ruined" but even with the tourist horde I still think it's a great place to visit, especially if you can spend the night in one of the towns.
Vernazza is not a cheap place to stay in. Since there were no hostels, I was stayed at a hotel, which is not the sort of place I normally stay at, but this hotel had the cheapest bed I could find in Vernazza. At $50 per night, it was easily the most expensive accommodation during my entire trip, but it felt like a bargain compared to everything else I looked up online. Everything else, including listings on Air BnB, was going for at least $70 per night. Certainly I could have stayed in a different town outside the Cinque Terre, where there are cheaper beds and then day-tripped into the area, but from what I had read, it seemed like the Cinque Terre, similar to Venice, is worth paying the extra money to stay in so that you can experience the early morning and late day version of the area when most of the tourist horde is gone. This suspicion proved correct, and I'm glad I stayed in the Cinque Terre, though my wallet hated me during the time I was there. Also, I should note that my hotel was up on a ridge on one side of the town, and that my room was on the top (4th) floor of the building, so I had a lot of stairs to ascend each time I went up to my room. On the plus side, my small balcony had a fantastic view of the town.
Not much happened on the day of arrival in Vernazza, though I did spend some time walking around town and planning out a hike for the next day. That next day got off to a good start when I found that the breakfast that the hotel served was at a restaurant they owned, on a bluff overlooking the sea. Normally when I travel I have a very basic breakfast and I could care less where I eat it, but having a meal with a view was nice. The only bad thing was that there was this hornet that for some reason took an interest in my plate and I'm not a fan of hornets or bees flying close to me. I set out for the day a little later than I intended, and by then the first wave of the tourist horde had arrived in town. Watching the horde from the train station is something of an interesting sight. It reminds me of the beating of the heart, where the each arriving train is like the compression of heart chambers, sending a surge of blood, or in this case, tourists, flowing down the main street of Vernazza. Just as a side note, trains are late in the Cinque Terre at least half the time, so if you're running late for your train, there's a decent chance that you're actually ok. I, however was leaving Vernazza for the next town over, called Monterosso. Normally I would have explored Monterosso first, but I wanted to start my hike before it got warm, so I walked straight through the town to the trail head. There were a lot of people also doing the hike that day, but I was able to find the gaps between the groups and for the most part not get crowded while on the trail. The hike from Monterosso back to Vernazza took about 1.5 to 2 hours and had a lot of steep steps and rugged terrain. It's the hardest of the trails linking the five Cinque Terre towns, though very doable by anyone in average physical shape. Being a coastal trail, there are a lot of great views, especially on the approach to Vernazza. Back in Vernazza I refilled my water bottle and rested in the church by the harbor for a little bit before setting out the trail again. The next part of the hike was a little easier than the one between Monterosso and Vernazza, but at this point in the day it was hotter and I was sweating a lot. My left knee was hurting (the one I injured two weeks earlier during my bike ride in France) and I was being careful to not put too much strain on it. The trail took me to the town of Corniglia, which I believe is the smallest of the five Cinque Terre towns and the only one not directly on the sea. From Corniglia I could see the next town in line, Manarola, but didn't immediately set out for it. Instead I looked around Corniglia and ate a little gelato to cool off. There were notices stating that the trail between Corniglia and Manarola was closed, but after resting up I set out for Manarola anyways because I had read online that sometimes a trail being closed meant that it was officially recommended to not hike it but you could still do so at your own risk. A quarter mile down the trail I found out that it really was closed, and for good reason. A landslide had taken out a wide stretch of the trail, leaving behind a chasm far too wide for me to jump or climb around. I went down to the beach to see if there was a safe way to bypass the destroyed section of the trail, but couldn't find one. By that time it was late afternoon. If the trail was still intact I could have definitely reached Manarola, and probably have continued all the way to the town of Riomaggiore before the sun went down. Looking at the map, I saw there was winding trail through the hills and mountains that could get me to Manarola, but it was much longer than the coast path and I wasn't sure how long it would take. I decided it was best not to take chances, so I got on a train back to Vernazza and finished up the day there.
The next day I paid a visit first to Riomaggiore, the town at the far southeast end of the Cinque Terre. For some reason I kept thinking it was named Raggiomayor. It's the largest and least touristy of the five towns, and I followed a self-guided walk from my guidebook through town. I got some photos of the town itself from a hill alongside it, and a little while later almost lost my phone in the San Giovanni church. Not sure why I took the phone out of my pocket while sitting in a pew in the church, but I distinctly remember telling myself to grab it before leaving. As I was walking away from the church I noticed that my pocket was feeling lighter than normal and I realized what had happened. I ran back to the church and was looking around for my phone for a minute when a British couple came up to me and asked me if my phone was missing. They had picked it up and were trying to find me outside the church but came back inside and saw me. I gave them both a big hug and thanked them profusely. It's true that I could have continued on without my phone, but it's loss would have been a severe mental setback and the data and photos on it were irreplaceable. The rest of my time in Riomaggiore was (thankfully) not as eventful and I went down the town's main road, snapping photos along the way. I then got on a train to Manarola and there I followed another self-guided walk, which took me from the harbor to the top of the town and then into the vineyards in the hills surrounding Manarola. It was a warmer and more humid day than the one before, so I was I had already done my serious hiking. The views of Manarola from the vineyards are really nice and I got a good photos from up there. Cinque Terre grapes supposedly produce a distinctive wine, but I couldn't tell you if that's true or not as I don't drink wine. But what is definitely true is that the vineyards in Manarola and across the Cinque Terre are integral to the maintenance of the area as their roots go deep into the rocks and soil and help minimize landslides. After finishing in Manarola I got on a train back to the other end of the Cinque Terre, and the town of Monterosso. This time I didn't follow any guidebook walk and just explored on my own. Monterosso, like the other Cinque Terre towns, isn't big and you can walk the whole thing in less than an hour if you choose. For me the most notable parts of my time there were going up to the ruins of the old castle and the nearby I visited the small church of the Capuchin Friars, who are a local group of monks. Once I was satisfied with my time in Monterosso, I returned to Vernazza, where I did some reading and dipped my feet in the sea. I also got gelato from a shop at the harbor, which had a few flavors that I hadn't tried yet. The two flavors I got were white mint and cinnamon, which were both interesting individually as well as combined. The rest of the day was slowed paced with dinner, laundry, more gelato, writing and various other things.
On the following day I was scheduled to leave Vernazza at around 11:30am. During breakfast I got a cappuccino, just to try it, and of course it tasted awful. As some of you know, I can't stand the taste of coffee, but every now and then I attempt to stomach some sort of coffee-related drink, though the result is always the same. I checked out from the hotel at 10:30am and spent my final hour in Vernazza down at the harbor, watching the waves and taking in the sights of the area. My time in the Cinque Terre had been a good change of pace from my normal travel routine of museums, historical sights, and urban living. The next town on my European journey was Sienna, which is where we'll in the next blog post.
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I had planned out the train ride from Milan to Vernazza, Italy, and it involved a transfer down the line, however my first train was running 15 minutes late, which would mean I would miss the connecting train and have to wait an hour or two for the next one. I quickly looked over train schedules to see if I could find a workaround and found that if I rode the train a few more stops down the line I might be able to then get on another one that would take me right away to Vernazza. The time gap was very small, and when I got to the station it seemed like my plan had failed since the first train hadn't made up any time on route, but I found that the train I was hoping to catch was itself a little behind schedule, so I got on and soon arrived in Vernazza. The tourist horde was swarming the town when I got into town, giving me a preview of what to expect during most daytime hours in this part of Italy.
Vernazza is one of five small coastal towns in what is called the Cinque Terre (aka, the Italian Riviera). If you laid them out from west to east, Vernazza would be the second from the left. These towns for centuries were difficult to reach from the rest of Italy other than by boat due the mountainous coastal terrain they were built on, but around the end of the 1800s construction of rail lines began, and these days you can reach them without too much trouble by either car or train. The Cinque Terre has been thoroughly discovered by the tourism industry and every year these little towns are overwhelmed by tour groups and individuals coming to experience the towns and hike the surrounding mountains. No doubt many travel snobs and others lament the Cinque Terre being "ruined" but even with the tourist horde I still think it's a great place to visit, especially if you can spend the night in one of the towns.
Vernazza is not a cheap place to stay in. Since there were no hostels, I was stayed at a hotel, which is not the sort of place I normally stay at, but this hotel had the cheapest bed I could find in Vernazza. At $50 per night, it was easily the most expensive accommodation during my entire trip, but it felt like a bargain compared to everything else I looked up online. Everything else, including listings on Air BnB, was going for at least $70 per night. Certainly I could have stayed in a different town outside the Cinque Terre, where there are cheaper beds and then day-tripped into the area, but from what I had read, it seemed like the Cinque Terre, similar to Venice, is worth paying the extra money to stay in so that you can experience the early morning and late day version of the area when most of the tourist horde is gone. This suspicion proved correct, and I'm glad I stayed in the Cinque Terre, though my wallet hated me during the time I was there. Also, I should note that my hotel was up on a ridge on one side of the town, and that my room was on the top (4th) floor of the building, so I had a lot of stairs to ascend each time I went up to my room. On the plus side, my small balcony had a fantastic view of the town.
Not much happened on the day of arrival in Vernazza, though I did spend some time walking around town and planning out a hike for the next day. That next day got off to a good start when I found that the breakfast that the hotel served was at a restaurant they owned, on a bluff overlooking the sea. Normally when I travel I have a very basic breakfast and I could care less where I eat it, but having a meal with a view was nice. The only bad thing was that there was this hornet that for some reason took an interest in my plate and I'm not a fan of hornets or bees flying close to me. I set out for the day a little later than I intended, and by then the first wave of the tourist horde had arrived in town. Watching the horde from the train station is something of an interesting sight. It reminds me of the beating of the heart, where the each arriving train is like the compression of heart chambers, sending a surge of blood, or in this case, tourists, flowing down the main street of Vernazza. Just as a side note, trains are late in the Cinque Terre at least half the time, so if you're running late for your train, there's a decent chance that you're actually ok. I, however was leaving Vernazza for the next town over, called Monterosso. Normally I would have explored Monterosso first, but I wanted to start my hike before it got warm, so I walked straight through the town to the trail head. There were a lot of people also doing the hike that day, but I was able to find the gaps between the groups and for the most part not get crowded while on the trail. The hike from Monterosso back to Vernazza took about 1.5 to 2 hours and had a lot of steep steps and rugged terrain. It's the hardest of the trails linking the five Cinque Terre towns, though very doable by anyone in average physical shape. Being a coastal trail, there are a lot of great views, especially on the approach to Vernazza. Back in Vernazza I refilled my water bottle and rested in the church by the harbor for a little bit before setting out the trail again. The next part of the hike was a little easier than the one between Monterosso and Vernazza, but at this point in the day it was hotter and I was sweating a lot. My left knee was hurting (the one I injured two weeks earlier during my bike ride in France) and I was being careful to not put too much strain on it. The trail took me to the town of Corniglia, which I believe is the smallest of the five Cinque Terre towns and the only one not directly on the sea. From Corniglia I could see the next town in line, Manarola, but didn't immediately set out for it. Instead I looked around Corniglia and ate a little gelato to cool off. There were notices stating that the trail between Corniglia and Manarola was closed, but after resting up I set out for Manarola anyways because I had read online that sometimes a trail being closed meant that it was officially recommended to not hike it but you could still do so at your own risk. A quarter mile down the trail I found out that it really was closed, and for good reason. A landslide had taken out a wide stretch of the trail, leaving behind a chasm far too wide for me to jump or climb around. I went down to the beach to see if there was a safe way to bypass the destroyed section of the trail, but couldn't find one. By that time it was late afternoon. If the trail was still intact I could have definitely reached Manarola, and probably have continued all the way to the town of Riomaggiore before the sun went down. Looking at the map, I saw there was winding trail through the hills and mountains that could get me to Manarola, but it was much longer than the coast path and I wasn't sure how long it would take. I decided it was best not to take chances, so I got on a train back to Vernazza and finished up the day there.
The next day I paid a visit first to Riomaggiore, the town at the far southeast end of the Cinque Terre. For some reason I kept thinking it was named Raggiomayor. It's the largest and least touristy of the five towns, and I followed a self-guided walk from my guidebook through town. I got some photos of the town itself from a hill alongside it, and a little while later almost lost my phone in the San Giovanni church. Not sure why I took the phone out of my pocket while sitting in a pew in the church, but I distinctly remember telling myself to grab it before leaving. As I was walking away from the church I noticed that my pocket was feeling lighter than normal and I realized what had happened. I ran back to the church and was looking around for my phone for a minute when a British couple came up to me and asked me if my phone was missing. They had picked it up and were trying to find me outside the church but came back inside and saw me. I gave them both a big hug and thanked them profusely. It's true that I could have continued on without my phone, but it's loss would have been a severe mental setback and the data and photos on it were irreplaceable. The rest of my time in Riomaggiore was (thankfully) not as eventful and I went down the town's main road, snapping photos along the way. I then got on a train to Manarola and there I followed another self-guided walk, which took me from the harbor to the top of the town and then into the vineyards in the hills surrounding Manarola. It was a warmer and more humid day than the one before, so I was I had already done my serious hiking. The views of Manarola from the vineyards are really nice and I got a good photos from up there. Cinque Terre grapes supposedly produce a distinctive wine, but I couldn't tell you if that's true or not as I don't drink wine. But what is definitely true is that the vineyards in Manarola and across the Cinque Terre are integral to the maintenance of the area as their roots go deep into the rocks and soil and help minimize landslides. After finishing in Manarola I got on a train back to the other end of the Cinque Terre, and the town of Monterosso. This time I didn't follow any guidebook walk and just explored on my own. Monterosso, like the other Cinque Terre towns, isn't big and you can walk the whole thing in less than an hour if you choose. For me the most notable parts of my time there were going up to the ruins of the old castle and the nearby I visited the small church of the Capuchin Friars, who are a local group of monks. Once I was satisfied with my time in Monterosso, I returned to Vernazza, where I did some reading and dipped my feet in the sea. I also got gelato from a shop at the harbor, which had a few flavors that I hadn't tried yet. The two flavors I got were white mint and cinnamon, which were both interesting individually as well as combined. The rest of the day was slowed paced with dinner, laundry, more gelato, writing and various other things.
On the following day I was scheduled to leave Vernazza at around 11:30am. During breakfast I got a cappuccino, just to try it, and of course it tasted awful. As some of you know, I can't stand the taste of coffee, but every now and then I attempt to stomach some sort of coffee-related drink, though the result is always the same. I checked out from the hotel at 10:30am and spent my final hour in Vernazza down at the harbor, watching the waves and taking in the sights of the area. My time in the Cinque Terre had been a good change of pace from my normal travel routine of museums, historical sights, and urban living. The next town on my European journey was Sienna, which is where we'll in the next blog post.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
I'm Back
A few hours ago I emerged from an airplane back onto American soil. After nearly three months overseas, I am home. Now begins the long, tedious, and quite necessary process of unpacking, reviewing and organizing photos, debriefing others about my journey, doing laundry, etc. But don't think that I've forgotten about this blog. In fact, now that I'm back, I should be able to grind out the entries and wrap up the journey within the next two to three weeks. Be looking for updates roughly every one or two days, probably starting tomorrow.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Milan: Repeats
Well, so much for that plan. I had intended on doing some blogging in Istanbul, but the hostel I was in did not have a public computer terminal and I was too busy to use an internet cafe. Currently I´m in Madrid, Spain, though I leave for Seville tomorrow. This post will detail the first city in the Italian leg of my journey, Milan.
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The train from Nice, France, took me to the Italian border and the coastal town of Ventimiglia. Last time I was in Europe I had to stop there for an hour or so, and this time was the same. I had a one hour layover before the next train to Milan, so, like last time, I walked through the town to the beach and stayed there for a little while before returning to the station. Ventimiglia is a rather dull town with nothing notable about it and it appeared to not have changed a bit since my list time there. From the rocky beach you can see the French Riviera, and wonder why you´re here and not there. Thankfully it was only an hour before the next train, so I didn´t have to spend much time in Ventimiglia before getting out. The train to Milan stopped in Genoa and a few other towns, though nothing I saw out the window grabbed my attention.
Upon arrival in Milan I checked into my hostel, which was conveniently close to the train station. Normally I stay in places closer to the city sights, but in this case I was only passing through Milan so a place by the train station made more sense. After settling in I walked down to the area around the duomo (cathedral) and got a few photos of Milan at night. Next to the duomo is large shopping center, built back during the fascist days, which has a bull mosaic on the floor. People like to spin around on the mosaic, with their heel on the bull´s testicles, for good luck. Last time I was in Milan I was an overachiever and jumped and stomped on the bull before doing a Micheal Jackson-esque spin. My logic was that if just gently spinning on the bull mosaic draws out good luck, then forcefully doing it should gain me even more good luck. I had hoped to repeat my experience from three years ago, but was disappointed to see that the bull mosaic on the floor had been altered, for the worse. Now there was a depression in the floor which made spinning around much harder and made repeating my antics impossible. I did a "regular" spin on the bull, but it didn´t feel anywhere as good as three years ago. After looking around some more, I returned to the hostel and went to bed.
The following day I had a few hours before my train departed, so I returned to the duomo area. The plan was to largely repeat the sightseeing schedule from my last visit to Milan, which was also limited to just a few hours. I went into the duomo, which was free last time but now costs €2. Inside I noticed that they had removed the massive paintings that had been hanging between the columns three years ago. On one hand this made the inside seem larger, but the old look was more distinct. A lot of gothic churches have similar interiors, and I always appreciate ones that try to stand out. There was also a mass going on when I visited, so the area around the altar was blocked off to visitors. Exiting the church, I went around the side and ascended up to the roof. Last time I was in Milan it was cold, gray, and raining, so my view from up there was limited. This time is was just cold and gray, so I could see further, though still not as far as a clear day. While walking around the roof and the church exterior I could see the progress being made on cleaning the stone on the outside of the church. Hundreds of years of exposure to the weather has dirtied the exterior of the church, but the city is in the process of scrubbing the whole church and the cleaned stone is a vibrant bright manila color. I imagine it will take at least a year or two to clean the entire outside of the church, given how large the Milan duomo is. If I remember right, it is the fourth largest church in the world, but I could be wrong about that. When I was done with the duomo I went over to the Duomo Museum, since entry to the duomo also covered that, but being Monday, I found it was closed until 2:00pm and I would be gone before then. To finish up my short time in Milan I walked through town towards the Sforza Castel and checked out the area before catching the metro back to the hostel. There I got my backpack and then I went to the train station for my train to Vernazza. My time in Milan was largely a repeat of my visit three years ago, with a few differences. One of these days I´ll stop in Milan for more than just a short stay and see more of the city, but for these last two times it has just been a stopover city on my way to other places.
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With that we have finally broken into Italy. Next in line for blogging is my time in the Cinque Terre, aka the Italian Riviera.
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The train from Nice, France, took me to the Italian border and the coastal town of Ventimiglia. Last time I was in Europe I had to stop there for an hour or so, and this time was the same. I had a one hour layover before the next train to Milan, so, like last time, I walked through the town to the beach and stayed there for a little while before returning to the station. Ventimiglia is a rather dull town with nothing notable about it and it appeared to not have changed a bit since my list time there. From the rocky beach you can see the French Riviera, and wonder why you´re here and not there. Thankfully it was only an hour before the next train, so I didn´t have to spend much time in Ventimiglia before getting out. The train to Milan stopped in Genoa and a few other towns, though nothing I saw out the window grabbed my attention.
Upon arrival in Milan I checked into my hostel, which was conveniently close to the train station. Normally I stay in places closer to the city sights, but in this case I was only passing through Milan so a place by the train station made more sense. After settling in I walked down to the area around the duomo (cathedral) and got a few photos of Milan at night. Next to the duomo is large shopping center, built back during the fascist days, which has a bull mosaic on the floor. People like to spin around on the mosaic, with their heel on the bull´s testicles, for good luck. Last time I was in Milan I was an overachiever and jumped and stomped on the bull before doing a Micheal Jackson-esque spin. My logic was that if just gently spinning on the bull mosaic draws out good luck, then forcefully doing it should gain me even more good luck. I had hoped to repeat my experience from three years ago, but was disappointed to see that the bull mosaic on the floor had been altered, for the worse. Now there was a depression in the floor which made spinning around much harder and made repeating my antics impossible. I did a "regular" spin on the bull, but it didn´t feel anywhere as good as three years ago. After looking around some more, I returned to the hostel and went to bed.
The following day I had a few hours before my train departed, so I returned to the duomo area. The plan was to largely repeat the sightseeing schedule from my last visit to Milan, which was also limited to just a few hours. I went into the duomo, which was free last time but now costs €2. Inside I noticed that they had removed the massive paintings that had been hanging between the columns three years ago. On one hand this made the inside seem larger, but the old look was more distinct. A lot of gothic churches have similar interiors, and I always appreciate ones that try to stand out. There was also a mass going on when I visited, so the area around the altar was blocked off to visitors. Exiting the church, I went around the side and ascended up to the roof. Last time I was in Milan it was cold, gray, and raining, so my view from up there was limited. This time is was just cold and gray, so I could see further, though still not as far as a clear day. While walking around the roof and the church exterior I could see the progress being made on cleaning the stone on the outside of the church. Hundreds of years of exposure to the weather has dirtied the exterior of the church, but the city is in the process of scrubbing the whole church and the cleaned stone is a vibrant bright manila color. I imagine it will take at least a year or two to clean the entire outside of the church, given how large the Milan duomo is. If I remember right, it is the fourth largest church in the world, but I could be wrong about that. When I was done with the duomo I went over to the Duomo Museum, since entry to the duomo also covered that, but being Monday, I found it was closed until 2:00pm and I would be gone before then. To finish up my short time in Milan I walked through town towards the Sforza Castel and checked out the area before catching the metro back to the hostel. There I got my backpack and then I went to the train station for my train to Vernazza. My time in Milan was largely a repeat of my visit three years ago, with a few differences. One of these days I´ll stop in Milan for more than just a short stay and see more of the city, but for these last two times it has just been a stopover city on my way to other places.
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With that we have finally broken into Italy. Next in line for blogging is my time in the Cinque Terre, aka the Italian Riviera.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Cote D'Azure: On The Rocks
This post was typed up over several different points in both Croatia and Bosnia. Today's entry is on my time in the French Riviera, known as the Cote d'Azure in French.
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I arrived in the town of Nice (pronounced like "niece") after dark and in the rain. Nice was to be my home base for exploring the rest of the region and my hostel was only a short walk from the sea. Arriving at night, I couldn't see the water but I could hear it. The next morning I got off to a great start by spilling some of my drink on the floor and a little yogurt on my pants. In my defense, I didn't realize those tables were that unstable and easy to bump. Thankfully those messes were easy to clean. After dealing with the morning's misfortunes, I geared up for the day and went first to the beach. The beaches on the French Riviera are mostly pebble beaches and the waves are small. The water is a deep azure blue, which looks great when the sun is out. There was plenty to do that first day, but I started by taking a seat on the rocks near the water's edge and sitting there for 15 minutes or so. Normally on when travelling overseas I'm trying to make the most of every hour, but every now and then I'll have short periods of intentionally doing nothing. With my moment of zen over, I got up and took a walk along the Promenade des Anglais, which literally means the "British Promenade." The French Riviera is a popular tourist destination these days for people around the world, but it was originally the British, Belgians and Russians who were known for staying here. Back then the British wanted to be able to walk nearby the beach without actually going onto the beach, so the promenade was built. The promenade is just one section of a walkway that extends a long distance - all the way from under Castle Hill in the east to some place far out to the west in the distance. I walked from the area around my hostel all the way to Castle Hill and then turned back into the old town, or Vieux Nice as it's called, and checked out the morning market. Every time there's an outdoor market I pay a visit, though I almost never buy anything. I saw some interesting stuff, including a lot of soap (I guess southern France is known for making fancy soap). From there I explored the old town, checking out the back lanes and taking note of any ice cream or gelato shops I came across. I then climbed Castle Hill, which disappointingly does not have a castle on it. Apparently there used to be a castle up there but it was demolished by one of the French kings who thought it wasn't needed any longer. There's some good views of the town from up there, but there's really no other reasons to go up there other than to take pictures. Coming down from the hill, I followed the green-way city park back to the beach and there I dipped my feet in the water. It was a bit colder than I expected, though certainly not cold. I then walked out to the Marc Chagall Museum, which is inconveniently located beyond the train station and it took me about 30 minutes to get there on foot. Marc Chagall got famous in the mid 1900s, and as some of you know, I'm generally not impressed with modern art, but I had read good things about this museum, so I decided to take a chance on it. I found some of Chagall's work interesting, but others not so much. Many of his paintings are Old Testament scenes, and the influence for much of his work came from his Jewish upbringing in Russia. I returned to the hostel to make dinner and ended up talking with a Belgian girl in the room about various things going on in both Europe in America. As some of you know, explaining the nuances of America to others can be a bit tricky, and I'm not sure that I did the best job of discussing the parts which she didn't understand. When it was all done I ate and then went out to take a night walk along the beach promenade. There were now a few street performers, along with the guys selling knockoff handbags. I got gelato from a shop nearby the town courthouse, which generated a Facebook photo that some of you might have seen. So ended the first full day in Nice.
On my second day in Nice I took a day trip out to the principality of Monaco. Finding the bus stop for the bus to Monaco proved harder than it should be, but in the process of looking I ran into an American couple who were also trying to find the bus, so we formed a search party that tracked it down after a half hour of searching. The bus to Monaco was packed to capacity, so I stood for the 45 minute ride along the coastline. I got off at the bus stop near the palace and was able to get up there just in time to catch the tail end of the changing of the guards ceremony. Monaco can't boast a guard changing ceremony as large or flamboyant as the one at Buckingham Palace in London, but the guards put on a decent show while tourists are busily taking photos. With the ceremony over, the crowd started to disperse and I got some photos of the area around the palace. I considered going into the palace, but decided against it since it was guaranteed to be disappointing after my previous visits to Versailles and Chenoceau. Instead I went over to the Monaco Cathedral, where various Monaco royalty are buried. While I was there someone started playing the pipe organ, though I'm not sure why as there was no service going on at the time. A short walk from the cathedral is the Monaco Aquarium, which used to be run by the famous Jacque Cousteau. I was unsure about whether or not to go in, but I decided to take a chance and went in. The lower levels had large tanks full of various fish and other creatures, but I was much more intrigued by the upper levels which held the skeletons or large whales and sharks, along with old diving equipment. After finishing at the aquarium I went down to the harbor, which is full of large yachts, and walked around to the other side. Moving uphill, I reached the Monte Carlo casino. Peasants like me are allowed to enter the casino lobby, but you have to pay a fee to enter the main hall and the poker rooms have a dress code, which I clearly did not meet. No photos are allowed, but I was able to sneak a few in the lobby. At that point I was more or less finished in Monaco. The whole principality is less than one square mile in size, so you can see the whole thing in just a few hours. On the bus ride back to Nice, I got off at the town of Villefranche-sur-Mer. I had seen the town on the ride to Monaco, and the harbor looked scenic, so I took a walk down there and got some photos. The town also has a fort that's no longer in military use, though it appeared to be closed to the general public. I looped back up to the bus stop and caught the next bus to Nice, which was just as crowded as the morning bus to Monaco. By the time I got back to the hostel it was time for dinner. Afterwards I washed some of my shirts and took another night walk around Nice. Later that night I did some blogging and booking my ferry ride from Venice to Rovinj. These and other things kept me up until 2:00am.
My third day in Nice didn't start out so well, as several days in a row of being up late and getting up early were finally catching up to me. It wasn't until around midday that I felt awake, and for most of the morning I felt like I was wandering around in a tired haze. I visited the morning market again and spent some time sitting around on benches and in a church. The sun seemed stronger than normal, so I stayed in the shade. Originally I had been thinking that I would pay a visit to the town of Antines that day, but the tiredness took all the initiative out of me. While sitting on a bench and looking at a map, it occurred to me that I hadn't gone to the beaches west of the area around my hostel, so I got up walked for just over a mile in that direction. My exhaustion finally let up during the walk and I was feeling much better. On the way back I checked out the Fine Arts Museum, which had a mandatory combo ticket with some other museum that too far away for me to reasonably reach on foot. While walking back to the hostel, I noted that the western beaches were much less crowded than the eastern ones by the old town. It was 3:00pm, and since I was on the Cote d'Azure I figured I might as well go in the water. My hostel let me borrow a beach towel and I went back to a beach called Plage Neptune. It was getting windy and clouds were moving in. The beaches in Nice are pebble beaches, which make the footwork tricky and it's generally recommended for people to wear sandals or swimshoes in the water. I wore neither, and my feet took a beating on all those small rocks. When I came out of the water I had to exert myself, as I seemed to be sliding backwards with each step. I toweled off and then stood around for a few minutes feeling good about taking my first swim of the trip. There was not much else notable that happened that day. I conducted some more "research" by eating at McDonald's for dinner and got gelato for dessert while listening to a violin and cello duo performing on the street. My time in Nice, and France, was nearing an end. In truth, I would be returning to Paris at the end of the trip, so it wasn't really the end but it still felt like it. I was about to transition to Italy, where my love of gelato was about to turn into an unhealthy obsession.
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As of right now it is 6:50pm in Sarajevo, Bosnia. I leave for Istanbul tomorrow, where I'll hopefully be able to do some more blogging and maybe get one Italy post finished.
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I arrived in the town of Nice (pronounced like "niece") after dark and in the rain. Nice was to be my home base for exploring the rest of the region and my hostel was only a short walk from the sea. Arriving at night, I couldn't see the water but I could hear it. The next morning I got off to a great start by spilling some of my drink on the floor and a little yogurt on my pants. In my defense, I didn't realize those tables were that unstable and easy to bump. Thankfully those messes were easy to clean. After dealing with the morning's misfortunes, I geared up for the day and went first to the beach. The beaches on the French Riviera are mostly pebble beaches and the waves are small. The water is a deep azure blue, which looks great when the sun is out. There was plenty to do that first day, but I started by taking a seat on the rocks near the water's edge and sitting there for 15 minutes or so. Normally on when travelling overseas I'm trying to make the most of every hour, but every now and then I'll have short periods of intentionally doing nothing. With my moment of zen over, I got up and took a walk along the Promenade des Anglais, which literally means the "British Promenade." The French Riviera is a popular tourist destination these days for people around the world, but it was originally the British, Belgians and Russians who were known for staying here. Back then the British wanted to be able to walk nearby the beach without actually going onto the beach, so the promenade was built. The promenade is just one section of a walkway that extends a long distance - all the way from under Castle Hill in the east to some place far out to the west in the distance. I walked from the area around my hostel all the way to Castle Hill and then turned back into the old town, or Vieux Nice as it's called, and checked out the morning market. Every time there's an outdoor market I pay a visit, though I almost never buy anything. I saw some interesting stuff, including a lot of soap (I guess southern France is known for making fancy soap). From there I explored the old town, checking out the back lanes and taking note of any ice cream or gelato shops I came across. I then climbed Castle Hill, which disappointingly does not have a castle on it. Apparently there used to be a castle up there but it was demolished by one of the French kings who thought it wasn't needed any longer. There's some good views of the town from up there, but there's really no other reasons to go up there other than to take pictures. Coming down from the hill, I followed the green-way city park back to the beach and there I dipped my feet in the water. It was a bit colder than I expected, though certainly not cold. I then walked out to the Marc Chagall Museum, which is inconveniently located beyond the train station and it took me about 30 minutes to get there on foot. Marc Chagall got famous in the mid 1900s, and as some of you know, I'm generally not impressed with modern art, but I had read good things about this museum, so I decided to take a chance on it. I found some of Chagall's work interesting, but others not so much. Many of his paintings are Old Testament scenes, and the influence for much of his work came from his Jewish upbringing in Russia. I returned to the hostel to make dinner and ended up talking with a Belgian girl in the room about various things going on in both Europe in America. As some of you know, explaining the nuances of America to others can be a bit tricky, and I'm not sure that I did the best job of discussing the parts which she didn't understand. When it was all done I ate and then went out to take a night walk along the beach promenade. There were now a few street performers, along with the guys selling knockoff handbags. I got gelato from a shop nearby the town courthouse, which generated a Facebook photo that some of you might have seen. So ended the first full day in Nice.
On my second day in Nice I took a day trip out to the principality of Monaco. Finding the bus stop for the bus to Monaco proved harder than it should be, but in the process of looking I ran into an American couple who were also trying to find the bus, so we formed a search party that tracked it down after a half hour of searching. The bus to Monaco was packed to capacity, so I stood for the 45 minute ride along the coastline. I got off at the bus stop near the palace and was able to get up there just in time to catch the tail end of the changing of the guards ceremony. Monaco can't boast a guard changing ceremony as large or flamboyant as the one at Buckingham Palace in London, but the guards put on a decent show while tourists are busily taking photos. With the ceremony over, the crowd started to disperse and I got some photos of the area around the palace. I considered going into the palace, but decided against it since it was guaranteed to be disappointing after my previous visits to Versailles and Chenoceau. Instead I went over to the Monaco Cathedral, where various Monaco royalty are buried. While I was there someone started playing the pipe organ, though I'm not sure why as there was no service going on at the time. A short walk from the cathedral is the Monaco Aquarium, which used to be run by the famous Jacque Cousteau. I was unsure about whether or not to go in, but I decided to take a chance and went in. The lower levels had large tanks full of various fish and other creatures, but I was much more intrigued by the upper levels which held the skeletons or large whales and sharks, along with old diving equipment. After finishing at the aquarium I went down to the harbor, which is full of large yachts, and walked around to the other side. Moving uphill, I reached the Monte Carlo casino. Peasants like me are allowed to enter the casino lobby, but you have to pay a fee to enter the main hall and the poker rooms have a dress code, which I clearly did not meet. No photos are allowed, but I was able to sneak a few in the lobby. At that point I was more or less finished in Monaco. The whole principality is less than one square mile in size, so you can see the whole thing in just a few hours. On the bus ride back to Nice, I got off at the town of Villefranche-sur-Mer. I had seen the town on the ride to Monaco, and the harbor looked scenic, so I took a walk down there and got some photos. The town also has a fort that's no longer in military use, though it appeared to be closed to the general public. I looped back up to the bus stop and caught the next bus to Nice, which was just as crowded as the morning bus to Monaco. By the time I got back to the hostel it was time for dinner. Afterwards I washed some of my shirts and took another night walk around Nice. Later that night I did some blogging and booking my ferry ride from Venice to Rovinj. These and other things kept me up until 2:00am.
My third day in Nice didn't start out so well, as several days in a row of being up late and getting up early were finally catching up to me. It wasn't until around midday that I felt awake, and for most of the morning I felt like I was wandering around in a tired haze. I visited the morning market again and spent some time sitting around on benches and in a church. The sun seemed stronger than normal, so I stayed in the shade. Originally I had been thinking that I would pay a visit to the town of Antines that day, but the tiredness took all the initiative out of me. While sitting on a bench and looking at a map, it occurred to me that I hadn't gone to the beaches west of the area around my hostel, so I got up walked for just over a mile in that direction. My exhaustion finally let up during the walk and I was feeling much better. On the way back I checked out the Fine Arts Museum, which had a mandatory combo ticket with some other museum that too far away for me to reasonably reach on foot. While walking back to the hostel, I noted that the western beaches were much less crowded than the eastern ones by the old town. It was 3:00pm, and since I was on the Cote d'Azure I figured I might as well go in the water. My hostel let me borrow a beach towel and I went back to a beach called Plage Neptune. It was getting windy and clouds were moving in. The beaches in Nice are pebble beaches, which make the footwork tricky and it's generally recommended for people to wear sandals or swimshoes in the water. I wore neither, and my feet took a beating on all those small rocks. When I came out of the water I had to exert myself, as I seemed to be sliding backwards with each step. I toweled off and then stood around for a few minutes feeling good about taking my first swim of the trip. There was not much else notable that happened that day. I conducted some more "research" by eating at McDonald's for dinner and got gelato for dessert while listening to a violin and cello duo performing on the street. My time in Nice, and France, was nearing an end. In truth, I would be returning to Paris at the end of the trip, so it wasn't really the end but it still felt like it. I was about to transition to Italy, where my love of gelato was about to turn into an unhealthy obsession.
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As of right now it is 6:50pm in Sarajevo, Bosnia. I leave for Istanbul tomorrow, where I'll hopefully be able to do some more blogging and maybe get one Italy post finished.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Lyon: Confluence
And we're back with another long overdue blog update. I have arrived in Zagreb, Croatia, and the hostel that I'm in has a pair of public computers, so I'm trying to take advantage of them and crank out a post. The keyboard here is close to a standard American one, but with a few keys in different places and several extra letters to accommodate the Croatian alphabet. All that said, we return now to the journey and my time in Lyon, France.
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As I was leaving Amboise, my left knee was still bothering me but it felt better than the day before. I took one last walk around town to stretch and exercise the knee and then grabbed my backpack and headed to the train station. To get to Lyon I had to first had to take a short train ride to St Pierre de Corps and from there get on a train to Lyon. Though I had a second class rail pass, I was accidentally reserved for a first class seat on the train to Lyon due to a mistake by the staff at the ticket office in Paris. The staff wrote something on the back of my reservation stub explaining the situation and it must have been sufficient, because the ticket inspector did not ask me any questions. So, I got to ride first class to Lyon, purely by accident. Having ridden second class on many trains in the past, I can tell you that the first class cars are nicer, but not that much nicer. Personally I would say that if you're thinking of splurging a little on a Europe trip, your money is better spent on something like nicer accommodations or seeing/doing more things than on first class rail tickets. It was roughly a three hour train ride to Lyon, which was serving as the city that would bridge northern and southern France on this journey.
Lyon is France's third largest city, after Paris and Marseilles. Although smaller than Paris, it feels much more urban. I think this is because Lyon is not under the same building restrictions as Paris, so the city can more freely construct taller buildings and there also appeared to be no rules on their appearance. The walk from the train station to where I was staying took me through downtown and across the Rhone River. Lyon has a pair of rivers, the Rhone and the Saone, that divide the city into sections, and where I was staying was the part of the city right between the two rivers. For those interested, it was a five minute walk north of Place des Terreaux. My room was in a 6th floor apartment and the couple hosting me spoke a bit of English, so I was able to talk with them a little. I walked around the neighborhood a little and was glad that my knee was continuing to improve, though I still felt some pain during movement. The day soon ended and I went to bed.
When I got up the next day, my hosts had already left for work, so I had the apartment to myself while getting ready. I had a single full day to see Lyon, and I started it at Place des Terreaux, a large square with a horse fountain. From there I crossed the Saone River to the old town, whose winding streets were a contrast to the straight, modern, grid streets of the newer parts of Lyon. In the old town you can find what are called Traboules, which are covered passageways between streets. These passageways frequently pass through building courtyards and are interesting to walk through, but I do wonder if the locals ever get tired of having tourists in their courtyards. While in the lower part of the old town I also visited the St Jean church. Next to the St Jean church are the ruins of what was Lyon's church during Roman times. This church is the second oldest one known in western Europe (the oldest being the one in Rome) and dates to the second century AD. Interestingly enough, the primary way we know about the church is Roman records of the persecutions they conducted on it. After getting some photos, I hiked up the hill to the upper part of the old town and visited the Notre Dame church at the top (I think there are about fifty or so churches in France called Notre Dame). The Notre Dame church in Lyon is similar to the Sacre Coeur church in Paris in that it is the result of the Franco-Prussian War of the late 1800s; the local bishop vowed to build a great church if Lyon escaped the wrath of the advancing Prussians, and kept his promise after the Prussian army left the city alone. You can tell no expense was spared on the main part of the church by the exquisite mosaics on the walls and all the other decorations they put up. Down in the crypt you will also find something interesting: a smaller church dedicated to Joseph. Those of you familiar with Catholic churches know that Mary normally gets all the love in Catholic art and architecture, so finding a church dedicated to Joseph is not a common occurrence. That said, the priorities of the church are clear, as Mary's church is in the upper level and completely furnished while Joseph is in the lower level and nowhere nearly as ornate (apparently Mary's church was finished first and they ran out of money to finish Joseph's church). After checking out Notre Dame, I went over to the ruins of the nearby Roman amphitheater and its museum. The amphitheater is still largely intact, though the back area, where the rear of the stage would have been, is mostly gone. At this point I had seen everything I wanted to see in the old town, so I came down the hill and crossed the Saone back to the Presqu 'Ile (the peninsula part of Lyon between the rivers). I had a few hours left in the day, so I looked at the map and figured I would walk all the way down to the bottom of the peninsula, to the confluence of the two rivers. However, I did not realize just how far away that was, so I walked for almost an hour to get there. Upon arrival at the confluence, having walked as far as I did, it felt kind of like reaching the end of the world. To solidify this feeling, there are actual train tracks that run to the end of the peninsula and into the river. Not sure why that is, but maybe at some point the peninsula extended further. I stood there, at the confluence of the Saone and Rhone rivers for a few minutes. Were this a movie or a novel, I'm sure the unfortunate students forced to watch/read this scene would have to submit a term paper on the symbolism of this moment. We could no doubt draw many meanings out of the merging of rivers and maybe even say that it is an allegory for life, but that's a discussion for another time. I left the confluence and started back north, but this time I learned my lesson and took a tram most of the way back to the apartment. After dinner I took a short night walk around the old town and then called it a day.
The next day I had a few hours in the morning before my train to Nice, but at that point the only thing I had left to do was to pay a visit to the Fine Arts Museum, which is like the Louvre of Lyon. While not as good as the Louvre, it has a wide collection of art and artifacts, and I spent a bit over an hour in it before leaving. I then took a walk up and down the hill of the La Croix-Rousse neighborhood, which used to be home to Lyon's silk-spinning industry, but is now turning into another hipster gentrified neighborhood. Back at Place des Terreaux I ordered my first kebab of this trip. I do enjoy kebabs, though like burgers, I prefer them without the lettuce, tomato, and onions. Unfortunately I don't speak French, so I wasn't able to communicate that fact to the guy at the counter. No matter, I'm an expert food surgeon. I ate my kebab lunch back at the apartment and then grabbed my backpack and left for the train station. Though I left with sufficient time, I came close to missing the departure time of the train because along the way to the station I got on the wrong subway. When I corrected my mistake and got to the station, there wasn't much time until the scheduled departure, so I ran from the metro into the train station. On my watch I read sixty seconds until departure. "Sixty seconds, I can do this. Just tell me what platform and I can get there in less than thirty" I thought to myself. I came running into the train station, looked at the departure board... and saw that my train was running fifty minutes late. It turns out that I'll my running was for naught, but at least I would still get on the train. All I could do at that point was just sit and wait. When the train eventually came I got on board and departed Lyon.
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That was Lyon. We're almost to the end of the French part of the trip, with the final entry being the next one. The next post will take us to the riviera town of Nice.
----
As I was leaving Amboise, my left knee was still bothering me but it felt better than the day before. I took one last walk around town to stretch and exercise the knee and then grabbed my backpack and headed to the train station. To get to Lyon I had to first had to take a short train ride to St Pierre de Corps and from there get on a train to Lyon. Though I had a second class rail pass, I was accidentally reserved for a first class seat on the train to Lyon due to a mistake by the staff at the ticket office in Paris. The staff wrote something on the back of my reservation stub explaining the situation and it must have been sufficient, because the ticket inspector did not ask me any questions. So, I got to ride first class to Lyon, purely by accident. Having ridden second class on many trains in the past, I can tell you that the first class cars are nicer, but not that much nicer. Personally I would say that if you're thinking of splurging a little on a Europe trip, your money is better spent on something like nicer accommodations or seeing/doing more things than on first class rail tickets. It was roughly a three hour train ride to Lyon, which was serving as the city that would bridge northern and southern France on this journey.
Lyon is France's third largest city, after Paris and Marseilles. Although smaller than Paris, it feels much more urban. I think this is because Lyon is not under the same building restrictions as Paris, so the city can more freely construct taller buildings and there also appeared to be no rules on their appearance. The walk from the train station to where I was staying took me through downtown and across the Rhone River. Lyon has a pair of rivers, the Rhone and the Saone, that divide the city into sections, and where I was staying was the part of the city right between the two rivers. For those interested, it was a five minute walk north of Place des Terreaux. My room was in a 6th floor apartment and the couple hosting me spoke a bit of English, so I was able to talk with them a little. I walked around the neighborhood a little and was glad that my knee was continuing to improve, though I still felt some pain during movement. The day soon ended and I went to bed.
When I got up the next day, my hosts had already left for work, so I had the apartment to myself while getting ready. I had a single full day to see Lyon, and I started it at Place des Terreaux, a large square with a horse fountain. From there I crossed the Saone River to the old town, whose winding streets were a contrast to the straight, modern, grid streets of the newer parts of Lyon. In the old town you can find what are called Traboules, which are covered passageways between streets. These passageways frequently pass through building courtyards and are interesting to walk through, but I do wonder if the locals ever get tired of having tourists in their courtyards. While in the lower part of the old town I also visited the St Jean church. Next to the St Jean church are the ruins of what was Lyon's church during Roman times. This church is the second oldest one known in western Europe (the oldest being the one in Rome) and dates to the second century AD. Interestingly enough, the primary way we know about the church is Roman records of the persecutions they conducted on it. After getting some photos, I hiked up the hill to the upper part of the old town and visited the Notre Dame church at the top (I think there are about fifty or so churches in France called Notre Dame). The Notre Dame church in Lyon is similar to the Sacre Coeur church in Paris in that it is the result of the Franco-Prussian War of the late 1800s; the local bishop vowed to build a great church if Lyon escaped the wrath of the advancing Prussians, and kept his promise after the Prussian army left the city alone. You can tell no expense was spared on the main part of the church by the exquisite mosaics on the walls and all the other decorations they put up. Down in the crypt you will also find something interesting: a smaller church dedicated to Joseph. Those of you familiar with Catholic churches know that Mary normally gets all the love in Catholic art and architecture, so finding a church dedicated to Joseph is not a common occurrence. That said, the priorities of the church are clear, as Mary's church is in the upper level and completely furnished while Joseph is in the lower level and nowhere nearly as ornate (apparently Mary's church was finished first and they ran out of money to finish Joseph's church). After checking out Notre Dame, I went over to the ruins of the nearby Roman amphitheater and its museum. The amphitheater is still largely intact, though the back area, where the rear of the stage would have been, is mostly gone. At this point I had seen everything I wanted to see in the old town, so I came down the hill and crossed the Saone back to the Presqu 'Ile (the peninsula part of Lyon between the rivers). I had a few hours left in the day, so I looked at the map and figured I would walk all the way down to the bottom of the peninsula, to the confluence of the two rivers. However, I did not realize just how far away that was, so I walked for almost an hour to get there. Upon arrival at the confluence, having walked as far as I did, it felt kind of like reaching the end of the world. To solidify this feeling, there are actual train tracks that run to the end of the peninsula and into the river. Not sure why that is, but maybe at some point the peninsula extended further. I stood there, at the confluence of the Saone and Rhone rivers for a few minutes. Were this a movie or a novel, I'm sure the unfortunate students forced to watch/read this scene would have to submit a term paper on the symbolism of this moment. We could no doubt draw many meanings out of the merging of rivers and maybe even say that it is an allegory for life, but that's a discussion for another time. I left the confluence and started back north, but this time I learned my lesson and took a tram most of the way back to the apartment. After dinner I took a short night walk around the old town and then called it a day.
The next day I had a few hours in the morning before my train to Nice, but at that point the only thing I had left to do was to pay a visit to the Fine Arts Museum, which is like the Louvre of Lyon. While not as good as the Louvre, it has a wide collection of art and artifacts, and I spent a bit over an hour in it before leaving. I then took a walk up and down the hill of the La Croix-Rousse neighborhood, which used to be home to Lyon's silk-spinning industry, but is now turning into another hipster gentrified neighborhood. Back at Place des Terreaux I ordered my first kebab of this trip. I do enjoy kebabs, though like burgers, I prefer them without the lettuce, tomato, and onions. Unfortunately I don't speak French, so I wasn't able to communicate that fact to the guy at the counter. No matter, I'm an expert food surgeon. I ate my kebab lunch back at the apartment and then grabbed my backpack and left for the train station. Though I left with sufficient time, I came close to missing the departure time of the train because along the way to the station I got on the wrong subway. When I corrected my mistake and got to the station, there wasn't much time until the scheduled departure, so I ran from the metro into the train station. On my watch I read sixty seconds until departure. "Sixty seconds, I can do this. Just tell me what platform and I can get there in less than thirty" I thought to myself. I came running into the train station, looked at the departure board... and saw that my train was running fifty minutes late. It turns out that I'll my running was for naught, but at least I would still get on the train. All I could do at that point was just sit and wait. When the train eventually came I got on board and departed Lyon.
---
That was Lyon. We're almost to the end of the French part of the trip, with the final entry being the next one. The next post will take us to the riviera town of Nice.
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