Saturday, September 20

Up early to take the train to Milan, the final leg of our trip. Everything fit in our bags, we washed the dishes and emptied the trash, and took the bus to the train station.

As we were waiting on the train platform, a woman walked by with her little wire-haired dog. Of course, the woman noticed us noticing her dog, and came over to chat. Her dog’s name was Latte (milk) and he had recently been operated on because he had been attacked by another dog. Latte was yet another unneutered dog – we have not seen a single, neutered male dog. They are all intact. But then again, we have not seen a single stray dog.

Our seats on the train were next to a mother and her son. And their cute little dog  named Slinky who looked out the window as the train started up. Okay then. Time to go home to our dog.

Once in Milan, just about two blocks from the train station, we rolled our suitcases over to the Berna Hotel, our four-star hotel, Italian-style. We found a caffeteria lunch around the corner, expensive by our standards, and then retreated to our hotel for tea. We bought yogurt and cheese down the street for our early-morning breakfast. Our hotel is famous for their breakfasts, but since we need to leave at 5:30, we will miss it handily. We caught an episode of the Daily Show on TV. Here, however, it was sponsored by the country of Croatia.

Our last big deal on the itinerary – Leonardo DaVinci’s The Last Supper – was our next stop. You have to have reservations for this masterpiece and only 15 people are allowed in at a time.  It’s not in great condition – some renovation gone astray – but it was completely worth seeing it.

But let’s not gloss over the best gelato I’ve had on this trip. We discovered Chocolat on the way to see DaVinci. Not only did it have a line out the door, but it had at least six different kinds of chocolate. Chocolate, pistachio, and crema rounded out the gelato tastings for this trip. Now, no more ice cream for the rest of the year.

Back onto the underground for dinner by the canal. Pizza for me, pasta for Shelly, and a shared salad. And a walk back along the canal. What a busy spot. People were swarming into the area as we were walking out. But time for us to go.

And that wraps up our 12 days in Italy.

See you back on the other side of the pond.

Rain today. Or at least first thing in the morning. Despite the weather and Shelly’s cold, we choose heading to Venezia over hanging out in Verona. We missed the morning trains and bought round-trip tickets that gave us just under four hours in Venice. Not a lot of time, but enough to get the flavor of the city. We almost missed our train though because we had a good 1.5 hours before our train left. We hopped a bus back into Verona only to hop the wrong bus across town. With the traffic and waiting for another bus back, we had less than 45 minutes to find lunch and get back in time for the train.

We took another bus, went to a bank, found no decent restaurant, and ended up buying a yogurt, cheese, breadstick lunch from an outside market. The cheese was amazing. Gorgonzola cut from a fresh wheel, and nodula pugliese (I think the spelling is close), which is pulled fresh mozzarella. Great stuff.

Venice. The train station exited right onto the Grand Canal where we jumped on a water taxi. The weather had cleared and warmed up, so it turned out to be a perfect day. We passed gondoliers, work boats, all kinds of boats. I can now say that I have seen someone steering a boat and talking on a cell phone at the same time.

We got off just past St. Marks Square and actually walked away from it. The crowds of people were a turn off, so we just walked through little alleys and over the bridge by the Accademia stop toward the Peggy Guggenheim Museum. The museum, one of my favorites, wasn’t packed with people, and was quite the little oasis in the middle of this overrun city. The permanent collection, the traveling exhibit, Peggy’s house and garden entertained us for an hour, and then it was back to the alleys, and a boat trip back down the Grand Canal to the train station.

Overlooking the Grand Canal from the Peggy Guggenheim Museum

Let’s just say we got on the train with not even two minutes to spare. A very short trip indeed, but I’m glad we went.

We decided to break our dinner habit of eating downstairs and ventured off a few blocks from our apartment, down by the river. Via Interrato dell Acqua Morta (dead water) is basically where the river used to be, and is now covered over by streets and houses. We walked right past a church frock store. One couple stopped to look and they crossed themselves. We just took pictures.

Which color goes best with my eyes?

We decided on Il Burchio (Nuovo Burchio on the receipt) and had a wonderful dinner. We both had the veggie antipasto buffet. Three euros and choices of giant capers and cornichons, lettuce, radicchio, sun-dried tomatoes, cauliflower, green beans, etc. Excellent. Shelly had beef in a red wine sauce and I had fagillitini, a take on raviolis, but hand-wrapped little pockets of spinach and ricotta pasta in a light cream sauce. We shared a glass of red wine and I got a homemade apple cake for dessert. Great meal.

We spent the rest of the evening packing for Milan. I hope everything fits in our bags.

We had two simple goals in mind today. To see some sights in Verona and possibly do a little shopping. We did both. We visited the Chiesa di San Fermo, a cool but spooky church with a long history. The church proper sat on top of an earlier, more Byzantine style church. The church below had arches, and that great ol’ old-church, tomb smell. (There were actually three layers, the later two built upon a Roman temple/tomb area.)

Not so happy looking religious figures

Our trek took us to L’ Arena, Verona’s colosseum. It mimicked the larger, Rome Colosseum in that it was in fairly good shape. In fact, they still hold concerts there (Bjork performed there last week), so it was a bit weird to see the place with seats ready to be filled.

Verona's L'Arena

To be honest, our main destination today was Dada, a shoe store that our apartment owner told us about and even circled for us on our map. When we got there, it had just closed … for lunch. Phew. It promised to reopen again at 15:30, so off we went to get an espresso. I got a cappuccino and Shelly ordered a little coffee advertised on a banner hanging above the bar. It came in a cute little cup and pretty much curled her hair when she drank it. I guess it was a bit strong. An interesting fact that I hadn’t remembered from my previous trip through Italy – their espresso is served warm, never hot.  Maybe they served them cooler this time of the year, but the three that I’ve had have definitely not been hot.

We had some more time to kill, so we walked back toward the center of town by L’Arena. We passed an older gelateria. I had to walk in. I walked out with a wonderful treat – La Giuduitta or something. Basically, a small cup of whipped creamed, chocolate hazelnut ice cream, more whipped cream, chopped nuts, and dark Swiss Chocolate. They are also known for their ice cream bars, so Shelly got a three-layered one with Amaretto, chocolate, and vanilla, nestled between two tiny, thin wafers. It looked better than it tasted.

Coffee drinking, ice cream eating delay tactics done, and onto Dada, a store of shoes. Their men’s selection was disappointedly small, but Shelly found and bought two pairs of  women’s shoes – reddish, leather loafers and bright red desert boots. Mission accomplished.

We wandered slowly through town, back toward our apartment, still looking for shopping opportunities, but found none. We finished the evening with some quick food shopping, laundry across the street, and dinner once again, below our apartment at Arce di Noe. Seems like we’re getting into a pattern.

After visiting the church built below the Chiesa di San Fermo, we walked toward Verona’s Arena, a mini-Colosseum.

On the way, Shelly noticed a little black car outfitted with a fold down, roof-mounted camera and a Google Maps placard in the front window. In the passenger side of the car, a Dell monitor. And in the front window, paperwork that said the car was insured by AIG Europe.

Little, black Google Maps car

Try not to run into anything little black Google Maps car.

Might make for a good Geico commercial

Last-minute packing and a 20-minute walk down narrow sidewalks to the train station. Knock wood, but I am amazed that the wheels on our little wheelie suitcases have mastered the cobblestones of this city.

Another Eurostar train ride. Very smooth and fast. We had to sit across from each other this time, Shelly listening to her iPod, me typing away. We were shoulder to shoulder with an older couple from Germany. And the wife, who was sitting next to me had some powerfully bad breath. They ate their bread and stinky cheese sandwiches and bananas, while we chowed down on food Shelly bought from the same place we got yesterday’s lunch. Good stuff, but I think I had a bad olive. It was green but too squishy. Thank goodness we got off the train pretty quickly after that.

This train ride was much more picturesque than the one from Rome. Quite beautiful actually, with pear orchards, fields of verdura, old farmhouses, cities, rivers, the works. Arriving in Verona, we grabbed a bus to our next apartment.

Our Verona apartment is great. It’s very spacious, has a cute little kitchen, lots of storage, and is only one flight up. However, with the windows open, it sounds like we live on a Nascar track – with them closed, it’s very quiet and comfortable. We’re situated about five minutes from the river and one of the bridges, and we appear to be in a bit of an immigrant neighborhood. The guy at the store where we bought milk, tp, yogurt, eggs, etc., comes from Cambodia, and is here because he can work and save money. He also speaks about a million languages. We also picked up some bread just down the street. This area has everything including a stationery store. Let’s just say we spent some time in there, Shelly got names of some new products, and pictures were taken.

Pens, pens, and more pens

We proceeded to walk across the bridge (with another great view), and into town where we walked and shopped for a few hours. Shelly even got some eye-dropper medicine for the crappy cough/cold she’s picked up.

A view from a bridge in Verona

Dinner was at a restaurant below our apartment. Arce di Noe. One of our favorite, least expensive meals. We had a mozzerella, tomato, capers pizza; spaghetti with meat sauce; an insalata mista; and some cooked mixed veggies. Perfect. The husband/wife team also serves horse-meat dishes, a local favorite. No thanks.

Tomorrow: more of Verona.

Tuesday, September 16

Shelly found us a gym about 10 minutes from our hotel. It was tucked away in a non-descript building, but once inside it occupied an old studio or home, and every room had some kind of equipment in various stages of decay. The machines still worked though, and we managed to get a decent workout.

Time to curl the old biceps

For you Knight Rider fans, David Hasselhoff and Kitt graced the TV screens at the gym. I guess Knight Rider follows Charlie’s Angels during the week. Now, if we could just time our day to watch an Italian-dubbed “Love Boat” or “Fantasy Island” …

On the way back to our, hotel we walked past a tiny store that also sold take-away food. They were still putting out food, but we managed to get some interesting choices. Armed with our picnic lunch, Shelly looked into an archway and stopped. We were right in front of the oldest botanical garden in the world. The Firenze botanica has been in existence since 1545. And it was a perfect place for a lunch. A little oasis in the middle of the city. We used their bathroom and instead of flushing the toilet, Shelly pushed the alarm (it was a handicapped bathroom). It kept ringing until a woman came running over and turned it off. That was fun.

The view from the center of Firenze's botanical garden

Our lunch was terrific. Ratatouille, another veggie dish with eggs and carrots, and the best eggplant parmigiana I’ve ever had. The sun made it bit warmer today so being outside and in this garden was quite nice.

Later that night, we asked for restaurant recommendations again, and this time decided to leave our immediate surroundings and head over the Arno for dinner. The 20-minute walk across town, at dusk, past the Duomo, through the heart of the city, over the Ponte Vecchio went by quickly as we weaved through all the tourists, past restaurants crowded with students, and bike shops.

We arrived at Golden View Open Bar, a scenic riverside restaurant that overlooked the Ponte Vecchio bridge. Equivalent to a Fisherman’s Wharf restaurant, but hey, we’re tourists, and this was our last night. The dinner was quite expensive for our budget at 70 euro, but I guess you have to pay for the view. I had my first draft Peroni and remembered why I drank wine in Italy.

We supplemented our walk back with gelato. I had a three-some of Nutella, coconut, and Menta, while Shelly went for yogurt and banana. Good stuff.

Goodnight Florence.

Monday, September 15

Our first day trip. We could have taken a 120 euro, 12-hour tour to Siena and surrounding Tuscany, but we didn’t. Instead, we took the 6-euro Rapido bus to Siena. Just past the Firenze train station, I saw the Deanna pasticceria that I took Deanne’s picture in front of 24 years ago. That made me happy. I was really here the first time around, and I my memory still kinda works.

Oh, but first, “Charlie’s Angels.” It was on TV this morning as we were eating breakfast. Unfortunately, it was the Cheryl Ladd version and not the Farrah Fawcett one, but hey, you take what you can get. Sometimes, dubbed old American programs in another country become a bit more charming when abroad. Maybe it was because the Angels had gone western for this episode and had to fake ride horses, but let’s just say this particular episode had not aged well. Also, two pinkie rings on Kate Jackson. Uh huh.

Anyway, our rapido bus ride to Siena didn’t start out so rapido. Less than five minutes from the bus station, in a narrow turn, our bus got wedged between an illegally parked Maserati and a row of motorcycles. Things like this are exciting when you’re in another country, but so mundane at home. Lots of yelling, some kind of traffic person with a walkie-talkie, horns honking, people in front of the bus trying to guide the bus through, and still we went nowhere. It must have been 10 minutes before the owner of the Maserati slunk to his car and moved it. And away we went.

Here we were in this bus, crossing the Arno, the Ponte Vecchio to the left, churches in front of us, and up a ways, the great wall of Florence.  Wow. No amount of wow could keep me from falling asleep however, and asleep I fell.

From the what I saw when my eyes were open, we passed little towns, lots of farm land, castles, old walls and villages, you know, the kinds of things one doesn’t see from the window when on Bart and going to work. We turned off the freeway into Siena and drove up and down and around the outskirts of town, weaving closer to the center.

We arrived at the bus stop, and followed the signs to the Duomo and Piazzo del Campo. We kept coming upon little piazzos and Shelly would say, “Is this it?” referring to the big square? And I would say, “No, you’ll know when you get there.”

And we got there.  We sat on the square across from the church and ate the lunch we got at a market near the top of the town. Mortadella, cheeses, bread, artichokes, olives – all local foods – a perfect picnic lunch. I shared some bread with the pigeons, and we packed up when it started to rain. We headed back up top, trying to stay close to the buildings to keep from getting soaked by the rain.

The Duomo had a crypt and because it was raining and we hadn’t seen a crypt in Rome, this crypt seemed as good as any. But it was a disappointment. It was as if this crypt had been deep cleaned. It was too clean and there were no bones. What’s a crypt without bones and a skull or two? Plus, it was devoid of that crypt smell. Basically, we visited a clean crypt.

The rain kicked us out of town (shorts don’t work well for a rainy day) and we took a non-rapido back to Florence. The bus, mostly used by locals, took us winding through little towns, and was driven by a tail-gating, cell-phone using driver. Made things a little more exciting.

Sienna

A perfect evening for laundry. It’s 7:30 and we’re at a laveneria on Via Nationale. And it’s all ’80s music. David Bowie, Quarterflash, it’s cracking me up.

A Florence laveneria. Mind the shoes.

We finished the night at a restaurant a few blocks from our hotel. Salad and bean soup for Shelly, insalata mista and a funghi pizza for me. Our dinner was okay. Have to get over that a nearly $50 dinner here doesn’t necessarily make it a great meal.

Watched the BBC talk up the Lehman Brothers bankruptcy and went to bed.

Sunday, September 14

Up early to get to our Michelangelo’s David reservation by 9. Our hotel breakfast wasn’t prepared, so we ate at a piazza restaurant, and made the mistake of sitting outside as they suggested rather than standing at the bar like the locals. Very expensive coffee, tea, and omelette mozzarella paninis.

David was a disappointment to Shelly. She thought he would be larger. Oh well. I just liked seeing him again. A magnificent piece of work. We could talk about Shelly’s necessary lesson on circumcised vs. uncircumcised, but let’s not touch that. Anyway, too many tourists, student sketchers, and we were still pretty tired from the day before. So, we made this a quick visit.

Our meat market hall was sadly closed on Sundays, so we had lunch in a tiny little place just off the main vendor drag. Simple food, but good.

This became our low-key day. We hung out in our hotel lobby, me on my iPhone, Shelly on my Mac, both of us going through email, catching up on news. I tried to get all the latest Sarah Palin news. I know this election will not be decided until November, but until then, it’s like a bad game of volleyball. I know I can’t wince and close my eyes, even though it would probably be less painful. We watched the opening of Saturday Night Live with Tina Fey. Who else could do Sarah Palin like Tina Fey?

We actually both passed out for about 45 minutes from shear exhaustion. I’m not one to take naps, but I had no choice today.

This time the recommendation came from the Tourettes-affected front desk clerk. (He was talking to himself, his arm, and walking around giggling. Creepy is an understatement here.) At Ristoranti da Mimmo, we had to wait about 30 minutes to get our check, Shelly finally had to threaten that we were leaving, and then we got it pronto. We had a frito misto, not that great, Shelly’s eggplant parmagiana, was just okay. My spinach and ricotta ravioilis with a pumpkin and juniper sauce was something I’ve never had before. The Chianti classico was perfect. I even ordered the special lemon crème brulee for dessert. So far the food in Florence outshines the food in Rome.

We turned on our TV, watched some BBC and the implosion of the Lehman Brothers, and settled on a very bad Italian singing show. I will end this post as the show did with a medley of the Village People’s “greatest hits.” Close your eyes and imagine, “YMCA,” “Go West,” “In the Navy,” etc. being sung poorly in English by an Italian man and woman, all the while surrounded by conga-ing older people, also singing along and waving their hands around. Reminds me of some bad weddings I’ve attended.

Goodnight. 

Saturday, September 13, 2008

A rainy morning, a taxi ride, and the train station. We’re leaving Rome.

A super speedy train took us north to Firenze in less than two hours. We shared the train ride with a couple from North Carolina. He’s a retired Viet Nam vet – he used to dye socks and work for the city – she does hair. I played mahjong while Shelly carried most of the conversation. At one point, she dared to ask them whom they were voting for and he hemmed and hawed and said, McCain, because he’s a vet. Of course.

The rain greeted us in Firenze as did an argumentative taxi driver. Maybe it was Shelly’s negotiating technique. The two of them went back and forth over a fixed price rate versus a metered price. Lots of yelling and hand gesturing on the taxi driver’s end of the conversation. As he was pulling our bags back out of his taxi, Shelly repeated the fixed price that she originally suggested. He relented. But grumbled. Whatever. He got us to the hotel and we didn’t get wet.

The Johanna Hotel is something like 95 euro a night, very cheap for Florence, and very cute. Plus, it has free wireless in the lobby. A major bonus. We quickly inspected our room, plunked down our bags, bummed an umbrella off the woman at the front desk, and set out to discover the city.

We wasted no time hunting down some lunch. Walking around Florence is slow going only because you want to stop every 20 feet and stare at the sights around you. We made it past the outdoor leather and souvenir vendors by the Duomo and literally stumbled upon a huge indoor food market – meat, cheeses, olive oils, produce, and a few (Italian food court). Perfect. For five euros I had a plate of pasta and salad. Shelly had some chicken and zucchini. I have a feeling that Alice Waters has spent some time at this market. Slow food is what this place is all about.

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. Lots of walking: down to the Arno River, over one bridge, up to the Pitti Palace, over the Ponte Vecchio bridge …  . A stop for tea, a couple of cookies, and a real, caffeinated cappuccino for me. Yep, we’re in Italy.

Ponte Vecchio Bridge: The only bridge in Italy not destroyed during WWII.

We decided to hit the area around the Duomo – as big, colorful, and wonderful as I remembered it, but now with a small iron fence around it. We didn’t go inside because of the line, but I dared Shelly to walk to the top of  Giotto’s Tower. It’s open only a few days of the week for only a few months of the year. You know, it’s one of those places where they have warnings in several different languages not to attempt if you have medical problems. She accepted my dare, and six euro and 414 steps later we made it to the top and some of the most breathtaking views in the world. We took way too many pictures and playfully picked out the places we decided we could live. Shelly wanted a rooftop garden, so that helped narrow things down.

And yes, we considered the 818 total steps cardio, as did our calves and quads. We could still feel that hike days later.

For dinner, we took the advice of our front desk woman, and walked around the block to an exceptional restaurant, called Wine Bar Vinolio. We were only the second full table, but by the time we left two hours later, the place was packed. Even though it took nearly 40 minutes to get our bill when we were done, this was by far the best meal we’ve had so far. Insalata mistas, fresh rolls, house red, and a pistachio pesto pasta. I’ve never tasted anything like it. So very good.

Loved the house red. Buy this wine: Contucci Rosso Di Montepulciano – 2005

We skyped Shelly’s sister, wished her a happy birthday, and then collapsed into bed. And for the first time, we didn’t need earplugs.

Ciao Florence.