Made is safely back to the United States!
I think over the next week or so we'll be filling in the details from the end of our trip, but for now we are hanging out relaxing in Jacksonville with Andy's family. I'll be back up north for Christmas and Andy will be up there after New Years.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Barcelona + Valencia
BARCELONA
We ended up spending five nights in Barcelona. This is more than we planned but at this point, we are getting tired. We aren't necessarily up for the jam-packed sightseeing days that we have been having quite often on this trip, but we did want to see a lot of this city. After we leave a city, we are in the habit of evaluating it. Would we reccommend it for vacation? How was their intercity transportation? Could we live here? Barcelona gets the highest reviews for places that we would actually want to live (with Amsterdam also in the running). I was immediatly excited to be here because I no longer felt out of place wearing my bright purple tights (coming from Italy, where the majority of the populace is dressed in black, or dark brown leather). Although Barcelona doesn't come to mind when you hear the word "fashion," the city has a style of its own, and it is bright, vibrant, and happy. Even their mannequins are happier than anywhere we've been (seiously- they are grinning insanely). There is also a great mix of people here- those who were born and raised here, and speak Catalan, those who transplanted from elsewhere in Spain, speaking traditional Spanish, plenty of European students doing an exchange from their home colleges called Erasmus, a lot of Americans, living here to teach English, and a myriad of ofter transplants from all over the world.
Many of the sights here center around Spanish architect, Antoni Gaudi, whose unique architectual design comes off as something between Dr. Suess imagery, Salvadore Dali paintings, and those muddy "castles" kids create on beaches by letting soggy sand drip from their hands. It was refreshing to see his contemory architecture that defied conventional rules. There are several houses around the city that he designed, as well as a architectual conrtibutions to a beautiful public park, and La Segrada Familia, a church that has been under construction for over ____ years, and is scheduled for completion not until 2026. Unfortunately, we were not able to tour the interior of the houses or La Sagrada Familia as they were incredible expensive (17 euro to tour a house!- about $23!), but they were very impressive from the outside and we admired them for free. We were able to walk around the (free) park that he designed, which we would highly reccommend. Throughout the park musicians played their instruments, playing everything from raw, emotional blues on a banjo to dreamy "eastern" music on an instrument that I couldn't name, to soothing, seductive Spanish guitar. It would not be hard to spend many afternoons in this unique habitat.
One of the more fascinating places for a foodie, is La Boqueria - an immense market, open daily. Dizzying amounts of food of every variety are to be found as far as you can see. The quarters are tight and this place is always busy, and the buzz of people whizzing by is endless. For every variety of ingestible things, there are at least ten differents stands - produce, poulty, fish, beef, pork, cheeses, nuts/dried fruits, olives, baked goods as well as a few stands where one can sit down within the market and watch his or her meal prepared before them. Everything was immaculate: the fish was practically still swimming, not a bruise to be found on any fruit, everything neatly separated and artfully displayed to send your salvatory glands into overdrive; quite litereally a feast for the eyes. We made a lunch of a deep magenta colored cactus flower, a few fresh rolls, a variety of olives, mixed nuts, mixed meats, and a custard dessert, all for about 12 Euro total.
We took a nice walk up Montjuic, visiting the Olympic Park that hosted the '92 Olympics. Atop the hill, we climed a castle that once guared the harbor and enjoyed spectacular views of the city. Later, we made our way to a Picasso museum and, due to a change in exhibitions, enjoyed only a limitied quantity of his works, but at a greatly reduced admission fee. It was still great to see many of his works from his "blue period" and also collections from other periods in his life, centering around brothels, pigeons, and even interpretations of other painters' works. Other highlights from Barcelona include drinking sangria while eating tapas (of course), getting lost in an enormous flea market, and Andy catching a pickpocket in his jacket on the Subway. We also attended a few different couchsurfing meetups while in Barcelona, meeting several locals as well as people from Estonia, Greece, Romania, Germany, and the US.
Valencia
Our host, Salva, lived outside the city, but was just a short metro ride away from the train station/city center. Our first day was rainy and dismal, but we managed to eat some delicious paella, check out some of the old architecture in the city, and La Catedral de Santa Maria. It was here where we found the Holy Grail! We're a little confused as to why the search is still going on, when it has been in a church in Valencia this whole time... Mainly we just wandered around, looking at all of the different buildings. That night we, for some reason, decided to eat at a Chinese restaurant. The menu was translated into English, but when the item listed was "Rice three delicious," it didn't really help. Despite being the only customers other than a lone guy quietly smoking a few tables away, our qualms were quickly put to easy when the food arrived, in generous, delicious portions. Our second day in the city it was much nicer mainly because the weather cleared up, and decided to start the day with a visit to a botanical garden. We leisurely strolled up and down the aisles of vegetation, a pleasant break from the jungle of metropolitan life outside the walls. There were strange species of cacti, palm trees, and some fruits and vegetables growing that we couldn't recognize. After spending about an hour and a half here, we took advantage of the persistant beautiful weather and walked through another park. This was one of the more unique parks that we have visited. According to Salva, the Rio Turia running through Valencia flooded badly about ten to fifteen years ago. Apparently it had been a problem in the past, and they decided to finally do something about it. They diverted the entrie river to go around the city (Providence, anyone?)* and made the former route into a park, weaving through the entire city filled with sports fields, walking and biking paths, and playgrounds. We walked through the entire park to the end, where we found "the city of arts and sciences," a large park with some stunning modern architecture (think Jetsons arcitecture) housing a science museum and an imax theater, as well as other buildings that housed arts and science exhibitions. Although it certainly was not typically Valencian or even typically Spanish, we spent about 3 hours in the science museum. It was quite fascinating, and we explored exhibits centering on memory/perception, sound, energy, light, and design - most of them interactive. One exhibit consisted of about 30 chicken eggs, ready to hatch in incubators. It's funny how captivating a chick pecking its way out of a shell can be for people of any age (translation: we watched for about 40 minutes before tearing ourselves away, staying longer than the children). We decided that watching a live baby chick birth is so much cuter than a live human birth. The museum closed before we had a chance to visit the rest of the floor that we started on, let alone the next two above us. We blame the chickens. Later, we met Salva at a bar for a beer where he took us to a going away party for someone that he had just met a few weeks ago. Yet again, because of couchsurfing, we found ourselves at some improbable social event that we had no direct connection with. We noted a funny observation. When we arrived, we were certain that Salva and ourselves we the only three in an apartment of 30 that could speak English. However, the more this crowd drank, the more English speakers we found. Soon, we were sipping wine while chowing on finger food and cake with lots of friendly, interesting people eager to share travel stories and cultural differences. We left the next day, with a few mandarin oranges in our packs, picked by Salva the previous day from his families orange groves.
*The river in Providence's river was re-directed for aesthetic pupose in the mid nineties.
We ended up spending five nights in Barcelona. This is more than we planned but at this point, we are getting tired. We aren't necessarily up for the jam-packed sightseeing days that we have been having quite often on this trip, but we did want to see a lot of this city. After we leave a city, we are in the habit of evaluating it. Would we reccommend it for vacation? How was their intercity transportation? Could we live here? Barcelona gets the highest reviews for places that we would actually want to live (with Amsterdam also in the running). I was immediatly excited to be here because I no longer felt out of place wearing my bright purple tights (coming from Italy, where the majority of the populace is dressed in black, or dark brown leather). Although Barcelona doesn't come to mind when you hear the word "fashion," the city has a style of its own, and it is bright, vibrant, and happy. Even their mannequins are happier than anywhere we've been (seiously- they are grinning insanely). There is also a great mix of people here- those who were born and raised here, and speak Catalan, those who transplanted from elsewhere in Spain, speaking traditional Spanish, plenty of European students doing an exchange from their home colleges called Erasmus, a lot of Americans, living here to teach English, and a myriad of ofter transplants from all over the world.
Many of the sights here center around Spanish architect, Antoni Gaudi, whose unique architectual design comes off as something between Dr. Suess imagery, Salvadore Dali paintings, and those muddy "castles" kids create on beaches by letting soggy sand drip from their hands. It was refreshing to see his contemory architecture that defied conventional rules. There are several houses around the city that he designed, as well as a architectual conrtibutions to a beautiful public park, and La Segrada Familia, a church that has been under construction for over ____ years, and is scheduled for completion not until 2026. Unfortunately, we were not able to tour the interior of the houses or La Sagrada Familia as they were incredible expensive (17 euro to tour a house!- about $23!), but they were very impressive from the outside and we admired them for free. We were able to walk around the (free) park that he designed, which we would highly reccommend. Throughout the park musicians played their instruments, playing everything from raw, emotional blues on a banjo to dreamy "eastern" music on an instrument that I couldn't name, to soothing, seductive Spanish guitar. It would not be hard to spend many afternoons in this unique habitat.
One of the more fascinating places for a foodie, is La Boqueria - an immense market, open daily. Dizzying amounts of food of every variety are to be found as far as you can see. The quarters are tight and this place is always busy, and the buzz of people whizzing by is endless. For every variety of ingestible things, there are at least ten differents stands - produce, poulty, fish, beef, pork, cheeses, nuts/dried fruits, olives, baked goods as well as a few stands where one can sit down within the market and watch his or her meal prepared before them. Everything was immaculate: the fish was practically still swimming, not a bruise to be found on any fruit, everything neatly separated and artfully displayed to send your salvatory glands into overdrive; quite litereally a feast for the eyes. We made a lunch of a deep magenta colored cactus flower, a few fresh rolls, a variety of olives, mixed nuts, mixed meats, and a custard dessert, all for about 12 Euro total.
We took a nice walk up Montjuic, visiting the Olympic Park that hosted the '92 Olympics. Atop the hill, we climed a castle that once guared the harbor and enjoyed spectacular views of the city. Later, we made our way to a Picasso museum and, due to a change in exhibitions, enjoyed only a limitied quantity of his works, but at a greatly reduced admission fee. It was still great to see many of his works from his "blue period" and also collections from other periods in his life, centering around brothels, pigeons, and even interpretations of other painters' works. Other highlights from Barcelona include drinking sangria while eating tapas (of course), getting lost in an enormous flea market, and Andy catching a pickpocket in his jacket on the Subway. We also attended a few different couchsurfing meetups while in Barcelona, meeting several locals as well as people from Estonia, Greece, Romania, Germany, and the US.
Valencia
Our host, Salva, lived outside the city, but was just a short metro ride away from the train station/city center. Our first day was rainy and dismal, but we managed to eat some delicious paella, check out some of the old architecture in the city, and La Catedral de Santa Maria. It was here where we found the Holy Grail! We're a little confused as to why the search is still going on, when it has been in a church in Valencia this whole time... Mainly we just wandered around, looking at all of the different buildings. That night we, for some reason, decided to eat at a Chinese restaurant. The menu was translated into English, but when the item listed was "Rice three delicious," it didn't really help. Despite being the only customers other than a lone guy quietly smoking a few tables away, our qualms were quickly put to easy when the food arrived, in generous, delicious portions. Our second day in the city it was much nicer mainly because the weather cleared up, and decided to start the day with a visit to a botanical garden. We leisurely strolled up and down the aisles of vegetation, a pleasant break from the jungle of metropolitan life outside the walls. There were strange species of cacti, palm trees, and some fruits and vegetables growing that we couldn't recognize. After spending about an hour and a half here, we took advantage of the persistant beautiful weather and walked through another park. This was one of the more unique parks that we have visited. According to Salva, the Rio Turia running through Valencia flooded badly about ten to fifteen years ago. Apparently it had been a problem in the past, and they decided to finally do something about it. They diverted the entrie river to go around the city (Providence, anyone?)* and made the former route into a park, weaving through the entire city filled with sports fields, walking and biking paths, and playgrounds. We walked through the entire park to the end, where we found "the city of arts and sciences," a large park with some stunning modern architecture (think Jetsons arcitecture) housing a science museum and an imax theater, as well as other buildings that housed arts and science exhibitions. Although it certainly was not typically Valencian or even typically Spanish, we spent about 3 hours in the science museum. It was quite fascinating, and we explored exhibits centering on memory/perception, sound, energy, light, and design - most of them interactive. One exhibit consisted of about 30 chicken eggs, ready to hatch in incubators. It's funny how captivating a chick pecking its way out of a shell can be for people of any age (translation: we watched for about 40 minutes before tearing ourselves away, staying longer than the children). We decided that watching a live baby chick birth is so much cuter than a live human birth. The museum closed before we had a chance to visit the rest of the floor that we started on, let alone the next two above us. We blame the chickens. Later, we met Salva at a bar for a beer where he took us to a going away party for someone that he had just met a few weeks ago. Yet again, because of couchsurfing, we found ourselves at some improbable social event that we had no direct connection with. We noted a funny observation. When we arrived, we were certain that Salva and ourselves we the only three in an apartment of 30 that could speak English. However, the more this crowd drank, the more English speakers we found. Soon, we were sipping wine while chowing on finger food and cake with lots of friendly, interesting people eager to share travel stories and cultural differences. We left the next day, with a few mandarin oranges in our packs, picked by Salva the previous day from his families orange groves.
*The river in Providence's river was re-directed for aesthetic pupose in the mid nineties.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Amalfi Coast + Sicily
***FYI we posted twice in a row today, so if anyone is interesed in Rome, check out the one below! Also, we are working on one more post to "catch up" which will probably be ready by tomorrow. Or tonight. We've had a lot of trouble finding internet access the past week or so, but it should be okay from here on out.
Next up was the Amalfi Coast. We found a host, Gianfranco, living in a small town called Nocera, a little bit inland. He lived in a small house on a large property. Orange and lemon trees grew in the backyard, and we were surrounded by farms. One night we went out for pizza with his friends, and the next night he cooked us a pesto pasta, and we cooked falafel. He drove us up into the mountains for some beautiful but cloudy views, and then along the coast where we stopped in a few towns along the way: Amalfi, Positano, and . We also visited Pompeii from here. Pompeii is an ancient town that lies at the base of Mount Vesuvius, a volcano near the coast. When the volcano erupted in 79 AD, everyone in the town perished, but because of the rapidity of the eruption, everything was left in tact and it is actually still being excavated today. We seemed to be the only ones there that day, until we got to the "Lupa" (look it up) that is. This building in particular had crowds when the rest of the site was mostly vacant.
Later that day we boarded a night train to Sicily, where we had another host waiting for us. We had a late night connection in Salerno, where we had a couple of hours to kill. We spent most of the time in the waiting room, but decided to head out to the colder seats by the track when a fight between a couple of homeless guys over a blanket nearly broke out in the seat next to me. We finally boarded our train, ready to sleep the night away. The train was very uncomfortable and neither of us were able to get much sleep at all. We arrived at our destination at 6 something in the morning, tired and frustrated. It was just about dawn, but the sun had not risen yet. We walked the 100 yards to the nearest beach, collapsed in the sand, and watched the sun rise. This was nothing short of sublime after the miserable night that we had. We fell asleep moments later, using our backpacks as pillows.
We awoke around 11 to a couple walking on the street not too far away, saying, "good moooorrninggggg," and giggling at the strangely dressed travelers sleeping on the beach. We spent most of the morning here, watching fisherman and skipping stones. We hoped to swim but it was pretty cloudy and not all that warm. In the afternoon we took a bus up a cliff to a town called Taormina. We ate arancini (fried rice balls with various stuffings), and finally enjoyed the sun when it came out. We got to chatting with a couple from the US who had been touring Italy for over 2 months, and they ended up giving us a ride back to the train station so we wouldn't have to walk.
Lucio, our host in Sicily, lived in Lentini, a small town outside of Siricusa. He welcomed us into his home, and happily cooked delicious meals for us two nights in a row. The meals were supplemented with the best olives I have ever tasted (he grew and brined them himself), homemade olive oil and pesto (made from the olives and basil growing in his garden), and accompanied by his homemade merlot (the grapes, also from his garden), which he liberally shared with us.
The one thing that we really wanted to do in Sicily was visit Mount Etna, the largest active volcano in Europe. We failed at this for two days in a row. After our first failure, we ended up walking around Catania instead, where we enjoyed some delicious homemade gelato to cheer us up, and found a "beach" to relax on. The beach was covered in trash and had too many flies. We were pretty bummed, but figured we could just do Etna tomorrow. To make matters worse, when we tried to catch a train back to Lentini, we were told that we needed to wait over two hours for the next one. We did find a neat fishing pier to walk out on that killed some time (it took about an hour to get to the end of it).
After Etna fail number two, we hopped on a train to Messina, where we were able to find a beach and some sun. The water was chilly (think Rhode Island beach in early June before it has had the chance to heat up much), but we were able to enjoy it much more than the beach in Catania. Later that day we took a train to the other end of Sicily. We had a very early flight to catch in the morning to Barcelona and had decided to be safe, that we would just sleep in the airport. Getting there was trying; we took a train, a bus, and then walked about two miles before getting a ride the rest of the way (another two miles).
Once in the airport we attemped to sleep. Despite the SWARMING flies and intensive vaccuuming going on, Marisa was able to wrap her head in a scarf and catch a few hours of sleep. Andy was not so lucky. In any case, we made our flight in the morning, but not before having to lose 4 kg (8.8 pounds) from Andy's luggage weight. And by "lose," I definitely mean fill our pockets with guidebooks, electronics equipment, and pebbles from the Cinque Terre, as well as wear several shirts and jackets each. Eventually, we boarded the plane.
Next up was the Amalfi Coast. We found a host, Gianfranco, living in a small town called Nocera, a little bit inland. He lived in a small house on a large property. Orange and lemon trees grew in the backyard, and we were surrounded by farms. One night we went out for pizza with his friends, and the next night he cooked us a pesto pasta, and we cooked falafel. He drove us up into the mountains for some beautiful but cloudy views, and then along the coast where we stopped in a few towns along the way: Amalfi, Positano, and . We also visited Pompeii from here. Pompeii is an ancient town that lies at the base of Mount Vesuvius, a volcano near the coast. When the volcano erupted in 79 AD, everyone in the town perished, but because of the rapidity of the eruption, everything was left in tact and it is actually still being excavated today. We seemed to be the only ones there that day, until we got to the "Lupa" (look it up) that is. This building in particular had crowds when the rest of the site was mostly vacant.
Later that day we boarded a night train to Sicily, where we had another host waiting for us. We had a late night connection in Salerno, where we had a couple of hours to kill. We spent most of the time in the waiting room, but decided to head out to the colder seats by the track when a fight between a couple of homeless guys over a blanket nearly broke out in the seat next to me. We finally boarded our train, ready to sleep the night away. The train was very uncomfortable and neither of us were able to get much sleep at all. We arrived at our destination at 6 something in the morning, tired and frustrated. It was just about dawn, but the sun had not risen yet. We walked the 100 yards to the nearest beach, collapsed in the sand, and watched the sun rise. This was nothing short of sublime after the miserable night that we had. We fell asleep moments later, using our backpacks as pillows.
We awoke around 11 to a couple walking on the street not too far away, saying, "good moooorrninggggg," and giggling at the strangely dressed travelers sleeping on the beach. We spent most of the morning here, watching fisherman and skipping stones. We hoped to swim but it was pretty cloudy and not all that warm. In the afternoon we took a bus up a cliff to a town called Taormina. We ate arancini (fried rice balls with various stuffings), and finally enjoyed the sun when it came out. We got to chatting with a couple from the US who had been touring Italy for over 2 months, and they ended up giving us a ride back to the train station so we wouldn't have to walk.
Lucio, our host in Sicily, lived in Lentini, a small town outside of Siricusa. He welcomed us into his home, and happily cooked delicious meals for us two nights in a row. The meals were supplemented with the best olives I have ever tasted (he grew and brined them himself), homemade olive oil and pesto (made from the olives and basil growing in his garden), and accompanied by his homemade merlot (the grapes, also from his garden), which he liberally shared with us.
The one thing that we really wanted to do in Sicily was visit Mount Etna, the largest active volcano in Europe. We failed at this for two days in a row. After our first failure, we ended up walking around Catania instead, where we enjoyed some delicious homemade gelato to cheer us up, and found a "beach" to relax on. The beach was covered in trash and had too many flies. We were pretty bummed, but figured we could just do Etna tomorrow. To make matters worse, when we tried to catch a train back to Lentini, we were told that we needed to wait over two hours for the next one. We did find a neat fishing pier to walk out on that killed some time (it took about an hour to get to the end of it).
After Etna fail number two, we hopped on a train to Messina, where we were able to find a beach and some sun. The water was chilly (think Rhode Island beach in early June before it has had the chance to heat up much), but we were able to enjoy it much more than the beach in Catania. Later that day we took a train to the other end of Sicily. We had a very early flight to catch in the morning to Barcelona and had decided to be safe, that we would just sleep in the airport. Getting there was trying; we took a train, a bus, and then walked about two miles before getting a ride the rest of the way (another two miles).
Once in the airport we attemped to sleep. Despite the SWARMING flies and intensive vaccuuming going on, Marisa was able to wrap her head in a scarf and catch a few hours of sleep. Andy was not so lucky. In any case, we made our flight in the morning, but not before having to lose 4 kg (8.8 pounds) from Andy's luggage weight. And by "lose," I definitely mean fill our pockets with guidebooks, electronics equipment, and pebbles from the Cinque Terre, as well as wear several shirts and jackets each. Eventually, we boarded the plane.
Rome
Pulling into Rome was kind of surreal. It's nice that at this point in the trip that we aren't "used to" being in these major iconic cities, each one still takes us by surprise. We still feel overwhelmed and incredibly excited to be in these places- though we can now navigate a subway system like it's nobody's business (knock on wood...). We didn't have a host or anywhere booked, so we used our guidebook to pick a few places close-by and called when we got into the train station. Marisa was slightly disappointed when the first woman told her that a bed in her hostel was 24 euro per person, but when she explained that it was too much for us to pay, the woman wanted to bargain. We ended up getting the room for 15 euro per person that night, and Marisa discovered a hidden skill- one that would be honed and perfected in the coming days. Starving after a day of travel, but in need of a cheap meal after a few days in the Cinque Terre, we turned to our Let's Go book for a suggestion. They reccommended a restaurant right around the corner, whose pizza was apparently "delectable," and wine cheap at 1.10 per quarter liter. Sounds great.
To start, the restaurant is empty and over-lit. The white linen table clothes meet awkwardly with basement foamboard cieling tiles. The pizza is far from delectable- the crust was that of a low-grade frozen pizza, no, the whole thing tasted like a low-grade frozen pizza. The "creamy pasta al forno" turned out to be limp lasagna noodles in a watery meat ragu. Marisa's white wine, though cheap as advertised, was room temperature. Andy's glass of red was colder. We left feeling discouraged, and wondering if maybe we shouldn't be trusting a guidebook written by college students to choose our restaurants for us. The upshot of the night was when Marisa reached into her pocket and found the foil-wrapped block of pecorino cheese left over from the night before. That cheese, we determined, saved the day. On the way home, Marisa bargained her way to a cheap bottle of red wine.
Because there was so much to see in Rome, Marisa carefully plotted our course around the city for the next two days. On day one, we got an early start. We saw the Colloseum, the Roman Forum, and Palantine Hill. It was crazy to be in a large, modern city, and then all of a the Colloseum is right in front of you, or some other unidentifiable structure equally as old. For lunch, we stopped at a pizzeria downtown. We thought it would be a good choice due to the lack of English speaking patrons. We observed for a few minutes before venturing to put our order in. There were about three people behind the counter, each with a pair of giant scissors that they would use to cut the foccacia style pizza into a strip however large or small you desired. It was then weighed, and priced by the 100 g. Our phrasebook Italian didn't fool the good-hearted man behind the counter who laughed when I ordered, and asked me how large I wanted my piece of the pizza with tomatoes, basil, and buffalo mozzarella cheese. It was so good I went back for more- this time with zucchini and cheese. Andy enjoyed pizza too.
That night we attended a couchsurfing event held on the outskirts of town. For 12 euro per person, we could enjoy as much food and wine as we could stuff in ourselves. We had checked out of the hostel that morning, hoping that we might be able to find a host at the dinner. We were in luck. We met a gentelman named Richard before the event started, all three of us wandering around some part of town in search of it. We ended up sitting at the same table and chatted for much of the night. He is from Frankfurt, Germany, and living in Rome for just a few months in order to improve his Italian (we were not able to help with that). When it was time to go, he saw our backpacks and offered us his couch. We very happily accepted. Marisa ate several baby shrimp at the dinner,thinking that they were golden raisins, and we both enjoyed the seemingly endless jugs of wine. Richard was pretty busy during the day, but did manage to show us a few little pastry shops near his house where we picked up some snacks.
The next day we saw a LOT. We started with the Vatican. We ticked off the Vatican Museums (Sistine Chapel) and Saint Peter's Basilica in the morning. St. Peter's was the most ornate of all the churches we have been in. The artwork here was also very impressive- mosaics that I could have sworn were paintings, and massive magnificent sculptures. After the Vatican, we made our way to the Pantheon. Here, I was very confused. As we walked up to the entrance, I turned to Andy and said, "wait, no, this isn't it, this is a church..." Little did I know that the Pantheon (meaning many gods!) was transformed into a Catholic Church. I was expecing ancient ruins, not a well kept ancient structure displaying opulant crosses and other religious symbols. I do realize that it is because of this transformation from pagan house of worship to Catholic church that it is the best kept ancient Roman building, but I can't help but think that it's a little strange and even perverse.
Some food that we enjoyed that is definitely worth mentioning: Jewish style fried artichokes from a little restaurant in the Jewish Ghetto, pasta cacio e pepe and rabbit (guess who had what...) at a restaurat that my mom and dad reccommended in the Trastevere section of town.
Next: Amalfi Coast + Sicily
To start, the restaurant is empty and over-lit. The white linen table clothes meet awkwardly with basement foamboard cieling tiles. The pizza is far from delectable- the crust was that of a low-grade frozen pizza, no, the whole thing tasted like a low-grade frozen pizza. The "creamy pasta al forno" turned out to be limp lasagna noodles in a watery meat ragu. Marisa's white wine, though cheap as advertised, was room temperature. Andy's glass of red was colder. We left feeling discouraged, and wondering if maybe we shouldn't be trusting a guidebook written by college students to choose our restaurants for us. The upshot of the night was when Marisa reached into her pocket and found the foil-wrapped block of pecorino cheese left over from the night before. That cheese, we determined, saved the day. On the way home, Marisa bargained her way to a cheap bottle of red wine.
Because there was so much to see in Rome, Marisa carefully plotted our course around the city for the next two days. On day one, we got an early start. We saw the Colloseum, the Roman Forum, and Palantine Hill. It was crazy to be in a large, modern city, and then all of a the Colloseum is right in front of you, or some other unidentifiable structure equally as old. For lunch, we stopped at a pizzeria downtown. We thought it would be a good choice due to the lack of English speaking patrons. We observed for a few minutes before venturing to put our order in. There were about three people behind the counter, each with a pair of giant scissors that they would use to cut the foccacia style pizza into a strip however large or small you desired. It was then weighed, and priced by the 100 g. Our phrasebook Italian didn't fool the good-hearted man behind the counter who laughed when I ordered, and asked me how large I wanted my piece of the pizza with tomatoes, basil, and buffalo mozzarella cheese. It was so good I went back for more- this time with zucchini and cheese. Andy enjoyed pizza too.
That night we attended a couchsurfing event held on the outskirts of town. For 12 euro per person, we could enjoy as much food and wine as we could stuff in ourselves. We had checked out of the hostel that morning, hoping that we might be able to find a host at the dinner. We were in luck. We met a gentelman named Richard before the event started, all three of us wandering around some part of town in search of it. We ended up sitting at the same table and chatted for much of the night. He is from Frankfurt, Germany, and living in Rome for just a few months in order to improve his Italian (we were not able to help with that). When it was time to go, he saw our backpacks and offered us his couch. We very happily accepted. Marisa ate several baby shrimp at the dinner,thinking that they were golden raisins, and we both enjoyed the seemingly endless jugs of wine. Richard was pretty busy during the day, but did manage to show us a few little pastry shops near his house where we picked up some snacks.
The next day we saw a LOT. We started with the Vatican. We ticked off the Vatican Museums (Sistine Chapel) and Saint Peter's Basilica in the morning. St. Peter's was the most ornate of all the churches we have been in. The artwork here was also very impressive- mosaics that I could have sworn were paintings, and massive magnificent sculptures. After the Vatican, we made our way to the Pantheon. Here, I was very confused. As we walked up to the entrance, I turned to Andy and said, "wait, no, this isn't it, this is a church..." Little did I know that the Pantheon (meaning many gods!) was transformed into a Catholic Church. I was expecing ancient ruins, not a well kept ancient structure displaying opulant crosses and other religious symbols. I do realize that it is because of this transformation from pagan house of worship to Catholic church that it is the best kept ancient Roman building, but I can't help but think that it's a little strange and even perverse.
Some food that we enjoyed that is definitely worth mentioning: Jewish style fried artichokes from a little restaurant in the Jewish Ghetto, pasta cacio e pepe and rabbit (guess who had what...) at a restaurat that my mom and dad reccommended in the Trastevere section of town.
Next: Amalfi Coast + Sicily
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Vienna
We've been meaning to write a post about Vienna for some time, but never got around to. SO... here is a letter we wrote to a few people that we met in Berlin who were from Vienna.
Sophia and Stefan,
Wow! Where to begin...?
Thank you so very much for all of your wonderful information and reccomendations for Vienna. We wanted to let you know how helpful it was to us.
Our first night in town we ate at Zwölf-Apostelkeller. Andy had a (huge) pork schnitzle with potato salad and Marisa had some sort of vegetarian spatzle. We both enjoyed a 1/4 liter of Gruner Veltliner with our meal, and some Gurwerstreminer afterwards. Everything was delicious and very reasonalby priced. The ambiance was great, we loved the vaulted cielings.
We visited the MAK museum and afterwards ate at the attached restaurant. The museum was very interesting and the meal was great, too. Andy had a pasta with bacon, cabbage and chestnuts, while Marisa ordered a creamy onion soup and chestnut pancakes with chocolate rum ice cream for dessert. Again: amazing!
We visited St. Stephans Cathedral, although we didn't climb to the top, and took a ride on the Ferris wheel. We didn't make it to the Mozart Museum, but we did see one of his operas, Die Zauberflöte.
On our last night we had a fabulous dinner at Haas Beisl. The place was great and had a very "homey" atmoshphere. Our waiter was very nice and helpful in picking out our meal. Marisa particularly enjoyed all of the vegetarian options, and ended up choosing the zucchini/potato burgers in what we think was a saffron cream sauce. He told Andy that November was the time for goose in Austria, so he had that. It was delicious and came with two dumplings and rotkraut (cooked red cabbage) on the side. Truly a great meal all around!
After this meal we wandered up the street a bit to find a bottle of wine, and stopped into a wine store just up the street. There happened to be a tasting put on by a local vintner. After tasting a few and chatting, we mentioned your names and though he seemed a bit buzzed, he was fairly certain that he knew of you or had met you both. Unfortunately, we lost his business card and couldn't tell you the name of the vinyard. Anyway, it is a small world!
There were so many more of your reccomendations that we were hopeful to try, but just didn't have the time. However, we will certainly retain all of your info and share it with our friends and anyone we meet traveling to lovely Vienna! We can't thank you enough for taking the time to forward all of that info to us and for welcoming us to your dinner in Berlin. It was such a pleasure to meet you both! We wish you the very best of luck in getting the rest of the plans finished for your wine bar. May it be a smashing success! If you ever find yourselves anywhere near our home, we would love to meet up or offer you a place to stay.
The very best,
- Andy and Marisa
......also:
We paid three euro a piece for the opera tickets- standing room nosebleed seats, where we could only see about 2/3 of the stage, but a great experience nonetheless.
We couchsurfed with Sebastian, Mathias's (from London/Innsbruck) twin brother for two nights after staying in hostel for the fist two. One night we stayed up chatting with he and his roommate, and the next day he gave us a walking tour of the city with his friend, it was great!
The MAK museum is a design museum. The exhibits range from contemporary fashion to dining room chairs from some period of Austrian history that we can't remember, to art deco sculpture, and everywhere in between. It was definitely a change from most of the museums that we have been visiting.
We went to an interesting museum that showcased the miracle of sound and had an array of engauging, interactive exhibits that demonstrated the many phenomina that occur when you experience sound and the ways in which you percieve it in your mind. We had lots of fun here. There were also a couple of floors dedicated to Austria's finest composers their respective surviving memoribilia.
Sophia and Stefan,
Wow! Where to begin...?
Thank you so very much for all of your wonderful information and reccomendations for Vienna. We wanted to let you know how helpful it was to us.
Our first night in town we ate at Zwölf-Apostelkeller. Andy had a (huge) pork schnitzle with potato salad and Marisa had some sort of vegetarian spatzle. We both enjoyed a 1/4 liter of Gruner Veltliner with our meal, and some Gurwerstreminer afterwards. Everything was delicious and very reasonalby priced. The ambiance was great, we loved the vaulted cielings.
We visited the MAK museum and afterwards ate at the attached restaurant. The museum was very interesting and the meal was great, too. Andy had a pasta with bacon, cabbage and chestnuts, while Marisa ordered a creamy onion soup and chestnut pancakes with chocolate rum ice cream for dessert. Again: amazing!
We visited St. Stephans Cathedral, although we didn't climb to the top, and took a ride on the Ferris wheel. We didn't make it to the Mozart Museum, but we did see one of his operas, Die Zauberflöte.
On our last night we had a fabulous dinner at Haas Beisl. The place was great and had a very "homey" atmoshphere. Our waiter was very nice and helpful in picking out our meal. Marisa particularly enjoyed all of the vegetarian options, and ended up choosing the zucchini/potato burgers in what we think was a saffron cream sauce. He told Andy that November was the time for goose in Austria, so he had that. It was delicious and came with two dumplings and rotkraut (cooked red cabbage) on the side. Truly a great meal all around!
After this meal we wandered up the street a bit to find a bottle of wine, and stopped into a wine store just up the street. There happened to be a tasting put on by a local vintner. After tasting a few and chatting, we mentioned your names and though he seemed a bit buzzed, he was fairly certain that he knew of you or had met you both. Unfortunately, we lost his business card and couldn't tell you the name of the vinyard. Anyway, it is a small world!
There were so many more of your reccomendations that we were hopeful to try, but just didn't have the time. However, we will certainly retain all of your info and share it with our friends and anyone we meet traveling to lovely Vienna! We can't thank you enough for taking the time to forward all of that info to us and for welcoming us to your dinner in Berlin. It was such a pleasure to meet you both! We wish you the very best of luck in getting the rest of the plans finished for your wine bar. May it be a smashing success! If you ever find yourselves anywhere near our home, we would love to meet up or offer you a place to stay.
The very best,
- Andy and Marisa
......also:
We paid three euro a piece for the opera tickets- standing room nosebleed seats, where we could only see about 2/3 of the stage, but a great experience nonetheless.
We couchsurfed with Sebastian, Mathias's (from London/Innsbruck) twin brother for two nights after staying in hostel for the fist two. One night we stayed up chatting with he and his roommate, and the next day he gave us a walking tour of the city with his friend, it was great!
The MAK museum is a design museum. The exhibits range from contemporary fashion to dining room chairs from some period of Austrian history that we can't remember, to art deco sculpture, and everywhere in between. It was definitely a change from most of the museums that we have been visiting.
We went to an interesting museum that showcased the miracle of sound and had an array of engauging, interactive exhibits that demonstrated the many phenomina that occur when you experience sound and the ways in which you percieve it in your mind. We had lots of fun here. There were also a couple of floors dedicated to Austria's finest composers their respective surviving memoribilia.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Cinque Terre
If anyone plans to visit the Cinque Terre, Italy's "secret" riviera between Genoa and Pisa, I highly suggest arriving on a bright, sunny day. It makes for a marvelous introduction to these five illustrious villages. It was a temperate 65 degrees when we began our train ride to the Cinque Terre. The sky was a nearly perfect cobalt blue, decorated with just enough wisps of white so that we couldn't say, "not a cloud in the sky," while keeping our integrity in tact. The sun was working overtime: it appeared to be blazing as if were a balmy day in July, not mid-November. Although, it is worth noting that the fiery rays came without the strangling heat that normally accompanies them.
Our moods matched the weather. This was possibly the most anticipated leg of our journey, and after the whirlwind that was Leonardo, we were already on a natural high, knowing that the distance between us and him was increasing exponentially by the moment. The weather remained constant for the entirety of our ride from Florence, but toward the end of the trip, we were enveloped by a dark tunnel that temporarily cut off our supply of sunlight. Several minutes later, and once our eyes had adjusted to the lack of natural light, we came careening out of the other side of a mountain and were instantly blinded by rays of light, even more fiery than before. Immediatly, we transposed ourselves to the opposite side of the train to survey the change in situation. We were now streaking dangerously across the edge of a seaside cliff, the blinding light a combination of the afternoon sun, perched perfectly at an angle where it could enter the windows of our train without reservation, and the reflection of it off of the poingently blue mediterranean. Never before had I been so drawn to actually stare directly at the sun. We were speechless. Just when we were able to focus our eyes on the sea, we were again engulfed by the darkness of a tunnel. The next twenty minutes we played a cruel game of cat and mouse, the ellusive sun toying with us all the way to our destination.***
Our destination was Vernazza, the fourth village in the Cinque Terre when headed northbound. Again without a host (there was a grand total of one couchsurfer between the five villages and he was somehow otherwise occupied), we set out to explore town and find a resting place for our packs. The first thing that was apparent to us upon unloading from the train was the lack of cars. There was only one road in Vernazza, and it was pedestrian only. Off of it, snaked several narrow and often steep cobblestone footpaths winding up into the surrounding hills, connecting the gelaterias and souvenier shops to the homes, "cameras" for rent, and eventually vineyards. At the end of the main street, which took all of four minutes to walk, we were met by crashing waves, so imposing that a rock wall had been built to subdue them. It began at a raised concrete terrace that during low tide remained mostly dry, and extended horizontally twenty meters into the sea, protecting the man-made cove. Here we found a wide assortment of people: there were college aged girls taking photo after photo of the crashing waves, local children chastizing thier pet dogs with the endless supply of soggy sticks that had washed ashore, a fellow backpacker writing in his journal, and a few hikers taking a break at the end of a strenuous day. We paused for a moment, taking in the scene, before making our way through the winding alleys to find our next temporary abode.
Up ten or fifteen steps between a shop that was closed for the season and a pizza counter, we found a sign reading, "CAMERA, ROOM, ZIMMER," or something to that effect. After ringing the bell, we heard a jostling above us and looked up. A woman appeared to be opening her shutters to hang her laundry to dry. She began speaking to us, asking in Italian if we needed a room. There, with us on the street, and her, three stories up, yelling out her window, we tried to settle on a fair price. What I'm sure was a good deal for the room she was offering, was too expensive for us, so we moved on, hoping not to offend her. This continued for the next 45 minutes: ringing the bell and haggling over a price via shouts from the second or third story window down to the level of the street and back. We finally found Elizabeta. She gave us the best price for a slightly smaller studio apartment than most were offering. Offer accepted and bags dropped, we headed out to explore.
We took a two minute train ride back the way we came, to Corniglia, the third town. Corniglia sits atop a cliff, the highest of the five villages. The train station alternately, is at sea level. The three hundred and sixty five stairs up to the town center are gradual but tiring for many. For those not up for the climb, a bus runs frequently between the station and the town center. In preparation for the five village hike, we opted for the stairs. The sun was dipping low by the time we reached the top, so we poked around town quickly before scouring the area for a spot to watch the sun set. We settled on a small patch of grass just over a gaurdrail into a vineyard. Afterwards we picked up ingredients for a picnic dinner and headed back to Vernazza, where we ate spicy soprasetta, pecorino romano, mixed local olives, fresh white anchovies with lemon and parsley, and a large piece of bread with a container of fresh pesto by the crashing waves. To help wash this delicious meal down we had a bottle of local Cinque Terre white wine. Before turning in for the night, we enjoyed one more glass of wine from the only bar in town. When I asked the friendly barkeep slash owner what time she closed, she couldn't give me a definite answer, "maybe 8:30.... but if you go for a walk and aren't finished, you can bring the glasses back tomorrow."
In the morning we awoke to grey skies and constant drizzle- not what we had anticipated for our hike. We had actually planned on being in the Cinque Terre the prior three days, but based on weather reports, switched it with Florence. We were pretty bummed, but decided to do what we could and make the best of it. This time we took the train back to the first town, Riomaggiore. The rain had more or less tapered off by the time we were there so we quickly hopped on the first of four hiking trails. The Via dell'Amore, or Path of Love, as it was named, turned out to not really be a hike, but more of a paved path from one town to the next. Despite the weather it was still beautiful, so we took our time. The next town was Manarola. This seemed to be slightly larger than the first, and we spent a little more time here, eating pesto foccaccia and chatting with a family from Indiana (or was it Iowa...) that we had seen yesterday on the train. Here, we noticed an interesting phenomenon: Rick Steves bonding. Actually, we first noted the ubiquity of "Rick Steves Italy," in just about every American traveler's hands that we came acorss, holding onto it like a bible. It was really amusing, though, when two of these travelers would run into each other, and then get instantly worked up over the fact that they were using the same travel guide. Sometimes they would just wave it at someone from a distance, and wait for a look of recognition and the jolly jig of excitement that would surely follow. Clearly, we are both fans of his as well, and may have even had a copy of "Europe Through the Back Door," on us as we observed these interactions, HOWEVER, we were not to about to go on about it in such a manner as to embarrass ourselves. Not surprisingly, this was not the last of Rick Steves in the Cinque Terre. Anyway, moving on to our hike... We had been forewarned that the second stretch was closed due to a mudslide, but were happy to hear that only a small section of it was actually roped off. We walked as far as we could, and could actually see the mudslide from where we were standing. It was pretty massive. The slide had not only wiped away a decent sized segment of the trail in its entirety, but also all of the vegetation from the top of the mountain down to the sea. Intrigued, we found a "secret" path that let us get even closer. We ended up hopping a fence and getting to be about 50 meters away before common sense told us not to push our luck. This path, though exciting, was actually just as easy as part one. Walking back to catch a train to Corniglia, eager to start on a more difficult and lengthy trail.
Because we had seen Corniglia the day before, we walked up the stairs and immediatly began our trek to Vernazza. We cut straight through town and followed signs to the far edge of town. The last sign before the trail started explained that until the railroad was built in the late 1800's, this was the only way to get between the villages. It was clear from the beginning that this would be more than just a nature walk. This trail followed the contours of the mountain, up and down, into crevices and over waterfalls, meandering through olive groves and wine vineyards, and even a few secluded homes (we actually went through someones archway, connecting their house to their garage). There were some long steep segments, but plenty of downhill action as well. We weren't actually gaining altitude to get to the next village. There were some amazing views of the Mediterranean, despite the clouds, but I'm sure it would be that much better in the sun. We will just have to return. Again, we were lucky to pack headlamps because this portion took longer than we anticipated, and by the time we made our final descent into Vernazza it was most definitely night. We cleaned up and then headed "into town"- about 45 stairs and another 30 steps- for some food. Vernazza is such a small town (population 600, and I am not forgetting a zero) that it would be impossible to not run into the same people over and over again. As we walked by the bar, the owner, who was chatting with a few friends out front, stopped a conversation she was having to wave to us and say , "hi." The family that we were chatting with in Manarola was eating dinner in the same restaurant, and we had also seen them on one of the trails. It's funny how in the Cinque Terre, even tourists are a tight-knit community. Dinner that night was again pesto-filled and delicious.
The hike on day three was probably the most challenging. We started early (for us), on the trail by ten. The weather that day was slightly better than the day before- clouds but thankfully no drizzle. I wore my bathing suit under my hiking clothes anyway, sure that today would be the day to swim in the Meditteranean. About halfway into our hike, a couple of Swedes whom we had met the day before caught up with us, and we ended up hiking most of the rest of that trail with them. The company that they worked for had recently merged with a French company, and as result they were living in France for a year. They had vowed to visit somewhere new every weekend they lived there, as so much more of Europe was accessible to them now. When we were about three quarters the way done with the hike, something amazing happened- the sun came out! The views that were beautiful before became stunning, and the warmth of the rays felt great. Looking up at the sky, we could tell that if we wanted to swim, we were on a tight schedule, the sun wouldn't last for too long. Reenergized, we picked up our speed and finished the last leg of the Cinque Terre as quickly as possible. The end of this turned out to be stairs- hundreds, maybe a thousand, stairs. It didn't bother us much, as we were headed down and feeling great (though hot and sweaty of course) due to the sun's recent appearance, but it did bother the hikers just starting out and heading in the opposite direction. We are VERY glad we hiked south to north. At last, Monterosso was in sight! We raced the sun to a vacant, pebbley beach with aqua blue water, dropped drawers (well, we were wearing bathing suits) and immediatly dove in. Amazing. Invigorating. Possibly the best moment of the trip - we were finally able to justify bringing our bathing suits, and we were able use them in the beautiful Mediterranean! It could only have been better if we were wrong about the weather and it stayed sunny all day, but as predicted, about two minutes after we jumped in, clouds settled in and stayed. This did not deter us from enjoying our own little beach for at least an hour or so and we stayed to snack on local clementines, apples, and some rolls we picked up at a bakery earlier that morning. For anyone else planning to do the entire hike, I would absolutly end with Monterosso. It is the only town with a real beach, and if you aren't ending with the stairs downhill, then you are starting with them UPHILL- not a fun introduction to the trail.
We spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know Monterosso and eventually getting an outlandish fine on the train for not having our railpasses on us (we are in the process of fighting it) and this derailed our day by a few hours. To brighten our moods, we decided to go out for dinner at a nice looking restaurant that we noted in Manorola the day before. While waiting for the train, we ran into Elizabeta and her husband, on their way to a nearby town to visit her sister. We started asking them about the local economy, and how long tourism has played such an important role it in. Without hesitation, Elizabeta told us 1995 is when it all changed. Someone named Rick Steves came to the town and wrote about it his travel guide about Italy. At this point her husband puts his hands together as if praying and looks up to the sky, letting out a cry of "Rick Steves!". We are not surprised by this, but we had been pretty curious to find out what everyone thought of this guy. It's good to know that they have embraced the changes in their community that they have seen take place so rapidly. Of course they don't speak for everyone, but the overall impression was definitely a positive one. As for our dinner, to start, Marisa enjoyed a nice wedge of Pecorino Romano and Andy, craving fresh seafood, opted for fried octopus. For the second course Marisa enjoyed a slice of pesto lasagna, and Andy stuck with the fish choosing a plate of mixed grilled fish which included more octopus, squid, swordfish, prawns, shrimp, and langostine (a smaller, lobster-like creature). It certainly did the trick and by the time we went home, we were relaxed and again soaking in every moment with pleasure. The next day we left the Cinque Terre for Rome (but not before running into Elizabeta and her husband one last time at the train station)!
***This paragraph was written while in the waiting room at a train station near the Amalfi Coast. It was us and a room full of homeless dudes, two of whom started beligerently fighting over a blanket right next to me. I was a little tense, and later we noted the strangely apocolyptic vibe that this paragraph had, but decided to keep it anyway, for posterity's sake.
Our moods matched the weather. This was possibly the most anticipated leg of our journey, and after the whirlwind that was Leonardo, we were already on a natural high, knowing that the distance between us and him was increasing exponentially by the moment. The weather remained constant for the entirety of our ride from Florence, but toward the end of the trip, we were enveloped by a dark tunnel that temporarily cut off our supply of sunlight. Several minutes later, and once our eyes had adjusted to the lack of natural light, we came careening out of the other side of a mountain and were instantly blinded by rays of light, even more fiery than before. Immediatly, we transposed ourselves to the opposite side of the train to survey the change in situation. We were now streaking dangerously across the edge of a seaside cliff, the blinding light a combination of the afternoon sun, perched perfectly at an angle where it could enter the windows of our train without reservation, and the reflection of it off of the poingently blue mediterranean. Never before had I been so drawn to actually stare directly at the sun. We were speechless. Just when we were able to focus our eyes on the sea, we were again engulfed by the darkness of a tunnel. The next twenty minutes we played a cruel game of cat and mouse, the ellusive sun toying with us all the way to our destination.***
Our destination was Vernazza, the fourth village in the Cinque Terre when headed northbound. Again without a host (there was a grand total of one couchsurfer between the five villages and he was somehow otherwise occupied), we set out to explore town and find a resting place for our packs. The first thing that was apparent to us upon unloading from the train was the lack of cars. There was only one road in Vernazza, and it was pedestrian only. Off of it, snaked several narrow and often steep cobblestone footpaths winding up into the surrounding hills, connecting the gelaterias and souvenier shops to the homes, "cameras" for rent, and eventually vineyards. At the end of the main street, which took all of four minutes to walk, we were met by crashing waves, so imposing that a rock wall had been built to subdue them. It began at a raised concrete terrace that during low tide remained mostly dry, and extended horizontally twenty meters into the sea, protecting the man-made cove. Here we found a wide assortment of people: there were college aged girls taking photo after photo of the crashing waves, local children chastizing thier pet dogs with the endless supply of soggy sticks that had washed ashore, a fellow backpacker writing in his journal, and a few hikers taking a break at the end of a strenuous day. We paused for a moment, taking in the scene, before making our way through the winding alleys to find our next temporary abode.
Up ten or fifteen steps between a shop that was closed for the season and a pizza counter, we found a sign reading, "CAMERA, ROOM, ZIMMER," or something to that effect. After ringing the bell, we heard a jostling above us and looked up. A woman appeared to be opening her shutters to hang her laundry to dry. She began speaking to us, asking in Italian if we needed a room. There, with us on the street, and her, three stories up, yelling out her window, we tried to settle on a fair price. What I'm sure was a good deal for the room she was offering, was too expensive for us, so we moved on, hoping not to offend her. This continued for the next 45 minutes: ringing the bell and haggling over a price via shouts from the second or third story window down to the level of the street and back. We finally found Elizabeta. She gave us the best price for a slightly smaller studio apartment than most were offering. Offer accepted and bags dropped, we headed out to explore.
We took a two minute train ride back the way we came, to Corniglia, the third town. Corniglia sits atop a cliff, the highest of the five villages. The train station alternately, is at sea level. The three hundred and sixty five stairs up to the town center are gradual but tiring for many. For those not up for the climb, a bus runs frequently between the station and the town center. In preparation for the five village hike, we opted for the stairs. The sun was dipping low by the time we reached the top, so we poked around town quickly before scouring the area for a spot to watch the sun set. We settled on a small patch of grass just over a gaurdrail into a vineyard. Afterwards we picked up ingredients for a picnic dinner and headed back to Vernazza, where we ate spicy soprasetta, pecorino romano, mixed local olives, fresh white anchovies with lemon and parsley, and a large piece of bread with a container of fresh pesto by the crashing waves. To help wash this delicious meal down we had a bottle of local Cinque Terre white wine. Before turning in for the night, we enjoyed one more glass of wine from the only bar in town. When I asked the friendly barkeep slash owner what time she closed, she couldn't give me a definite answer, "maybe 8:30.... but if you go for a walk and aren't finished, you can bring the glasses back tomorrow."
In the morning we awoke to grey skies and constant drizzle- not what we had anticipated for our hike. We had actually planned on being in the Cinque Terre the prior three days, but based on weather reports, switched it with Florence. We were pretty bummed, but decided to do what we could and make the best of it. This time we took the train back to the first town, Riomaggiore. The rain had more or less tapered off by the time we were there so we quickly hopped on the first of four hiking trails. The Via dell'Amore, or Path of Love, as it was named, turned out to not really be a hike, but more of a paved path from one town to the next. Despite the weather it was still beautiful, so we took our time. The next town was Manarola. This seemed to be slightly larger than the first, and we spent a little more time here, eating pesto foccaccia and chatting with a family from Indiana (or was it Iowa...) that we had seen yesterday on the train. Here, we noticed an interesting phenomenon: Rick Steves bonding. Actually, we first noted the ubiquity of "Rick Steves Italy," in just about every American traveler's hands that we came acorss, holding onto it like a bible. It was really amusing, though, when two of these travelers would run into each other, and then get instantly worked up over the fact that they were using the same travel guide. Sometimes they would just wave it at someone from a distance, and wait for a look of recognition and the jolly jig of excitement that would surely follow. Clearly, we are both fans of his as well, and may have even had a copy of "Europe Through the Back Door," on us as we observed these interactions, HOWEVER, we were not to about to go on about it in such a manner as to embarrass ourselves. Not surprisingly, this was not the last of Rick Steves in the Cinque Terre. Anyway, moving on to our hike... We had been forewarned that the second stretch was closed due to a mudslide, but were happy to hear that only a small section of it was actually roped off. We walked as far as we could, and could actually see the mudslide from where we were standing. It was pretty massive. The slide had not only wiped away a decent sized segment of the trail in its entirety, but also all of the vegetation from the top of the mountain down to the sea. Intrigued, we found a "secret" path that let us get even closer. We ended up hopping a fence and getting to be about 50 meters away before common sense told us not to push our luck. This path, though exciting, was actually just as easy as part one. Walking back to catch a train to Corniglia, eager to start on a more difficult and lengthy trail.
Because we had seen Corniglia the day before, we walked up the stairs and immediatly began our trek to Vernazza. We cut straight through town and followed signs to the far edge of town. The last sign before the trail started explained that until the railroad was built in the late 1800's, this was the only way to get between the villages. It was clear from the beginning that this would be more than just a nature walk. This trail followed the contours of the mountain, up and down, into crevices and over waterfalls, meandering through olive groves and wine vineyards, and even a few secluded homes (we actually went through someones archway, connecting their house to their garage). There were some long steep segments, but plenty of downhill action as well. We weren't actually gaining altitude to get to the next village. There were some amazing views of the Mediterranean, despite the clouds, but I'm sure it would be that much better in the sun. We will just have to return. Again, we were lucky to pack headlamps because this portion took longer than we anticipated, and by the time we made our final descent into Vernazza it was most definitely night. We cleaned up and then headed "into town"- about 45 stairs and another 30 steps- for some food. Vernazza is such a small town (population 600, and I am not forgetting a zero) that it would be impossible to not run into the same people over and over again. As we walked by the bar, the owner, who was chatting with a few friends out front, stopped a conversation she was having to wave to us and say , "hi." The family that we were chatting with in Manarola was eating dinner in the same restaurant, and we had also seen them on one of the trails. It's funny how in the Cinque Terre, even tourists are a tight-knit community. Dinner that night was again pesto-filled and delicious.
The hike on day three was probably the most challenging. We started early (for us), on the trail by ten. The weather that day was slightly better than the day before- clouds but thankfully no drizzle. I wore my bathing suit under my hiking clothes anyway, sure that today would be the day to swim in the Meditteranean. About halfway into our hike, a couple of Swedes whom we had met the day before caught up with us, and we ended up hiking most of the rest of that trail with them. The company that they worked for had recently merged with a French company, and as result they were living in France for a year. They had vowed to visit somewhere new every weekend they lived there, as so much more of Europe was accessible to them now. When we were about three quarters the way done with the hike, something amazing happened- the sun came out! The views that were beautiful before became stunning, and the warmth of the rays felt great. Looking up at the sky, we could tell that if we wanted to swim, we were on a tight schedule, the sun wouldn't last for too long. Reenergized, we picked up our speed and finished the last leg of the Cinque Terre as quickly as possible. The end of this turned out to be stairs- hundreds, maybe a thousand, stairs. It didn't bother us much, as we were headed down and feeling great (though hot and sweaty of course) due to the sun's recent appearance, but it did bother the hikers just starting out and heading in the opposite direction. We are VERY glad we hiked south to north. At last, Monterosso was in sight! We raced the sun to a vacant, pebbley beach with aqua blue water, dropped drawers (well, we were wearing bathing suits) and immediatly dove in. Amazing. Invigorating. Possibly the best moment of the trip - we were finally able to justify bringing our bathing suits, and we were able use them in the beautiful Mediterranean! It could only have been better if we were wrong about the weather and it stayed sunny all day, but as predicted, about two minutes after we jumped in, clouds settled in and stayed. This did not deter us from enjoying our own little beach for at least an hour or so and we stayed to snack on local clementines, apples, and some rolls we picked up at a bakery earlier that morning. For anyone else planning to do the entire hike, I would absolutly end with Monterosso. It is the only town with a real beach, and if you aren't ending with the stairs downhill, then you are starting with them UPHILL- not a fun introduction to the trail.
We spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know Monterosso and eventually getting an outlandish fine on the train for not having our railpasses on us (we are in the process of fighting it) and this derailed our day by a few hours. To brighten our moods, we decided to go out for dinner at a nice looking restaurant that we noted in Manorola the day before. While waiting for the train, we ran into Elizabeta and her husband, on their way to a nearby town to visit her sister. We started asking them about the local economy, and how long tourism has played such an important role it in. Without hesitation, Elizabeta told us 1995 is when it all changed. Someone named Rick Steves came to the town and wrote about it his travel guide about Italy. At this point her husband puts his hands together as if praying and looks up to the sky, letting out a cry of "Rick Steves!". We are not surprised by this, but we had been pretty curious to find out what everyone thought of this guy. It's good to know that they have embraced the changes in their community that they have seen take place so rapidly. Of course they don't speak for everyone, but the overall impression was definitely a positive one. As for our dinner, to start, Marisa enjoyed a nice wedge of Pecorino Romano and Andy, craving fresh seafood, opted for fried octopus. For the second course Marisa enjoyed a slice of pesto lasagna, and Andy stuck with the fish choosing a plate of mixed grilled fish which included more octopus, squid, swordfish, prawns, shrimp, and langostine (a smaller, lobster-like creature). It certainly did the trick and by the time we went home, we were relaxed and again soaking in every moment with pleasure. The next day we left the Cinque Terre for Rome (but not before running into Elizabeta and her husband one last time at the train station)!
***This paragraph was written while in the waiting room at a train station near the Amalfi Coast. It was us and a room full of homeless dudes, two of whom started beligerently fighting over a blanket right next to me. I was a little tense, and later we noted the strangely apocolyptic vibe that this paragraph had, but decided to keep it anyway, for posterity's sake.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Florence, Italy
Our time in Florence could have been very different. We had our first wierd couchsurfing experience here. After Venice we were very in need of a few cheap days, and feeling pretty desparate to find a host. Efforts to find a host had not been fruitful, so we posted an emergency request in the Florence group and hoped for the best. On the train, we got a message from Leonardo, telling us he could host for the first two nights. With great relief, we accepted his offer and made plans to meet. He told us what bus to take from the city center, and to tell the driver the name of his office building (something in Italian) so we could determine at which stop we should get off. Not necessarily the most logical way to meet someone, but happy to have found a place for the next few nights, we followed his instructions. This was actually foreshadowing for what was to come.
Normally we get very specific directions, i.e. "take line 4 in the direction of (insert name of last stop here), and get off at (insert name of stop). Call me when you pass (insert landmark) and I will come meet you." At this point, we are appreciative that we have somewhere to stay, and don't think twice. When we ask the driver where to get off, she doesn't know. A gentleman near the front of the bus says "copalignia", or at least that's what I hear. We start watching the message board, waiting for our stop. Meanwhile, Leonardo has texted us, wanting to know our status. We reply and he tells us we should be there in ten minutes. Twenty minutes later, we haven't seen our stop, and Leonardo is calling. Andy talks to him, but the bus is loud, Leo's English is not very good, and he has a very strong accent. Essentially, we gather no information. He calls back a few minutes later. Andy is frustrated, so Marisa takes the call. A lot more of the same ensues. He is definitely either saying to remain on the bus.... or DON'T remain on the bus, along with and a lot of other nonsensical strings of verbs and nouns. It is obvious at this point that Leo is very frustrated, but we try to remain polite and calm, apologising for inconviencing him. He demands to talk to Andy again. Now we have the attention of several local Florentines, one in particular who speaks far better English than Leo. (I will interject here that we are not holding it against him that his English is less than adequate. Clearly our Italian is far less than adequate. But, we weren't yelling/mumbling/talking very fast in our less than adequate Italian. In fact we were speaking in very loud, slow, clear and concise in simple English. AND we had asked him several times to text instead of calling, which would have been cheaper and probably comprehendible.) After telling this gentleman where we want to go, he consults his fellow Italians, and they determine we are on the wrong bus... but copalignia is coming up. We are so confused. The bus we are on runs in a loop, and at this point we have made a full revolution. Once back at the station one of the girls looks at me and points outside, saying, "copalignia," as if motioning for us to get off. We now gather that copalignia means end of the line. This is not helpful. A minute later, we recieve, finally, a text message from Leo, telling us the name of the stop we need to get off. I recognize it immediatly from our first revolution, and a few minutes later we arrive at the stop.
We thought our troubles were past. Once in the car, Leo explains that he needs to stop at a grocery store. Fine, no problem. After speaking with him for a few minutes during the car ride, we are overwhelmed. At first we thought he was the looney proffessor type- his office was at a University- but he explains that he is a manager of information technology for the engineering department. He doesn't stop talking, and very awkwardly jumps from one thought to another, thinking that we are with him all along. He gives us the "mmmm, you're supposed to be laughing now..." look (either that or the "I'M INSANE!!!" look, I'm still not sure), and speaks so fast that we can only pick up on half of it anyway. In the grocery store it became even more evident. Whether it was the way he dangled the cart from the corner behind him as he briskly walked, or how he lingered over Andy's shoulder as he tried to pick out cheese, one thing was clear: this guy was a little bit nuts. While we make our way through the grocery store he informes us that we would be cooking dinner that night, which would have been overwhelming anyway, but then he went on to say that he doesn't like lobster, or bread in his soup, and he's already had meat a few times this week, et cetera. Taken off gaurd, we scramble to try and think of what we could cook that would be suitable for everyone. At one point we were looking for chickpeas to make falafel, but Leo didn't understand "chickpea" or "garbanzo bean". This shouldn't have been a problem, as this is actually a word that I know how to say in Italian: "ceci". When he still didn't understand me, instead of just asking me to repeat myself, or speak slower, he just ignored me and turned to Andy for an explanation, giving him an obnoxious "what the hell is this this crazy woman saying" face. At this point, I walked away to pick out some vino, which we clearly needed in order to deal with this situation. A few minutes later, my choice in wine was also rejected, as it was only suitable to accompany red meat. We eventually settle on just making macaroni and cheese, but once we begin to look for the right cheeses to use, he hovers unconfortably close over our shoulders, circling around us like a moth around a bright light at night. Suddenly, we were experiencing clausterphbia in an enormous grocery store. And on and on continued our increasingly bizarre grocery shopping experience.
Once back at his place, we start boiling water for pasta. After a few minutes, it became evidant that WE were not in fact making dinner, Leo was, not pleased with our the idea of our version of pasta with cheese. Rather than explaining this to us, he just kind of took over, making his pasta quatro formaggi. As we were discussing what cheese to put in, he would interject saying, "no, no" making it clear that his recipe was to be followed. Dinner was awkward. Everything was awkward. It is worth mentionioning that his cooking was indeed excellent, preparing homemade tirimisu (using Marsala instead of a coffee or liquer) and a Tuscan style soup that were both terrific. We should also say that we are, as always, grateful to anyone who opens up their home to us and always accepting of different people, however this case was not one of a culture clash or a "bad fit"- it was social ineptness and lack of consideration in certain regards to people that are guests in one's home. There is so much more to say on this topic, so many more examples of where things went wrong/weird, but I would rather not think about it any longer. Our last night in Florence, we stayed in a hostel and celebrated our freedom from Leonardo.
Our first morning, we went to the Accedemia and saw Michelangelo's David. I was not expecting to be impressed, but it was amazing! I had no idea how big it was going to be, I had previously figured that it was life-size. We spent the better part of the morning sneaking behind pillars and poking up behind tour groups trying to take pictures, which was strictly forbidden and the rule enforced by several watch ladies around the room. The rest of the pieces in this Museum consisted of clay molds for other famous sculptures, and a vast array of religious paintings by notable artists. I can appreciate a fine brush stroke as much as anyone, but after a certain number of "Madonna and Child(s)," my mind started to drift elsewhere. A gentleman pulled us aside and asked us as we were coming down the stairs to leave, "oh, what's up there? anything good?" "More religious paintings," I answered rather bleakly. I think we were on the same page.
After the Accedemia, we considered going to the Uffizi, but decided we were museumed out for the day. We visited the "Duomo," the giant cathedral in Florence, next. This was actually very different from all of the other cathedrals that we had visited during this trip in a couple of ways. First, the colors on the outside were much more vibrant, which helped aleve the dreariness of the rainy day. Second, the inside had barely any seating, leaving most of the nave open for pedestrian traffic. The dome itself was a fresco of "The Last Judgment," elaborately detailing the final eternal home of both sinners and saints.
For lunch, we had an interesting theory. Looking at the map, we noted a grid of small streets in a neighborhood across the river, and thought based soley on that, that we could find a good meal in that part of town. I don't know if that strategy will work in every city, but it certainly paid off here. We had an amazing traditional Florentine style lunch in the basement of an old taven style building. The walls were several hundred year old bricks, arching into impressive high ceilings. There was a notation on the menu, explaining that because the restaurant used traditional old-fashioned Florentine cooking techniques, many of the dishes take quite some time to prepare. We took this as a good sign. Andy ate a perfectly executed roasted half chicken with roasted potatoes and Marisa enjoyed Crespelle alla Fiorentina, large homemade egg noodles stuffed with spinach and ricotta cheese, baked in the oven and finished with a creamy tomato sauce, delectable! We also enjoyed biscotti, small almond cookies, with vin santo, a sweet and strong dessert wine, for dessert. Although the biscotti can be quite dry on its own, when dipped in the vin santo, it's perfect! The other really great meal we had in Florence was at a restaurant called "La Messiera," which my parents reccommended and ate at while in Florence a couple years ago. Here, we sat at the table directly in front of the kitchen and were able to watch the chef prepare everything from cut-to-order T-Bone steaks Florentine style to punded out veal loin for veal Milinaise. When the restaurant became a little more crowded, we ended up with a few more people at our table. We shared fettunta, a tuscan garlic bread and ravioli stuffed cheese and spinach, topped with a terrific pomodoro sauce. Marisa ate Ribolitta, a traditional Tuscan soup made of vegetables, beans, bread, and stock. Despite being listed as a starter, it was very filling, and more than adequate as a main course. Andy enjoyed Veal Osso Bucco which was reportdly also very good.
With mixed impressions of Florence, we returned to our hostel to a blissfully quiet and unexciting abode, where we both got to chat with our families using skype. After having our fill of this Tuscan town, we prepared ourselves for one of our most anticipated stops of the trip - the Cinqua Terre villages of Italy, along the Mediterranean coast.
Normally we get very specific directions, i.e. "take line 4 in the direction of (insert name of last stop here), and get off at (insert name of stop). Call me when you pass (insert landmark) and I will come meet you." At this point, we are appreciative that we have somewhere to stay, and don't think twice. When we ask the driver where to get off, she doesn't know. A gentleman near the front of the bus says "copalignia", or at least that's what I hear. We start watching the message board, waiting for our stop. Meanwhile, Leonardo has texted us, wanting to know our status. We reply and he tells us we should be there in ten minutes. Twenty minutes later, we haven't seen our stop, and Leonardo is calling. Andy talks to him, but the bus is loud, Leo's English is not very good, and he has a very strong accent. Essentially, we gather no information. He calls back a few minutes later. Andy is frustrated, so Marisa takes the call. A lot more of the same ensues. He is definitely either saying to remain on the bus.... or DON'T remain on the bus, along with and a lot of other nonsensical strings of verbs and nouns. It is obvious at this point that Leo is very frustrated, but we try to remain polite and calm, apologising for inconviencing him. He demands to talk to Andy again. Now we have the attention of several local Florentines, one in particular who speaks far better English than Leo. (I will interject here that we are not holding it against him that his English is less than adequate. Clearly our Italian is far less than adequate. But, we weren't yelling/mumbling/talking very fast in our less than adequate Italian. In fact we were speaking in very loud, slow, clear and concise in simple English. AND we had asked him several times to text instead of calling, which would have been cheaper and probably comprehendible.) After telling this gentleman where we want to go, he consults his fellow Italians, and they determine we are on the wrong bus... but copalignia is coming up. We are so confused. The bus we are on runs in a loop, and at this point we have made a full revolution. Once back at the station one of the girls looks at me and points outside, saying, "copalignia," as if motioning for us to get off. We now gather that copalignia means end of the line. This is not helpful. A minute later, we recieve, finally, a text message from Leo, telling us the name of the stop we need to get off. I recognize it immediatly from our first revolution, and a few minutes later we arrive at the stop.
We thought our troubles were past. Once in the car, Leo explains that he needs to stop at a grocery store. Fine, no problem. After speaking with him for a few minutes during the car ride, we are overwhelmed. At first we thought he was the looney proffessor type- his office was at a University- but he explains that he is a manager of information technology for the engineering department. He doesn't stop talking, and very awkwardly jumps from one thought to another, thinking that we are with him all along. He gives us the "mmmm, you're supposed to be laughing now..." look (either that or the "I'M INSANE!!!" look, I'm still not sure), and speaks so fast that we can only pick up on half of it anyway. In the grocery store it became even more evident. Whether it was the way he dangled the cart from the corner behind him as he briskly walked, or how he lingered over Andy's shoulder as he tried to pick out cheese, one thing was clear: this guy was a little bit nuts. While we make our way through the grocery store he informes us that we would be cooking dinner that night, which would have been overwhelming anyway, but then he went on to say that he doesn't like lobster, or bread in his soup, and he's already had meat a few times this week, et cetera. Taken off gaurd, we scramble to try and think of what we could cook that would be suitable for everyone. At one point we were looking for chickpeas to make falafel, but Leo didn't understand "chickpea" or "garbanzo bean". This shouldn't have been a problem, as this is actually a word that I know how to say in Italian: "ceci". When he still didn't understand me, instead of just asking me to repeat myself, or speak slower, he just ignored me and turned to Andy for an explanation, giving him an obnoxious "what the hell is this this crazy woman saying" face. At this point, I walked away to pick out some vino, which we clearly needed in order to deal with this situation. A few minutes later, my choice in wine was also rejected, as it was only suitable to accompany red meat. We eventually settle on just making macaroni and cheese, but once we begin to look for the right cheeses to use, he hovers unconfortably close over our shoulders, circling around us like a moth around a bright light at night. Suddenly, we were experiencing clausterphbia in an enormous grocery store. And on and on continued our increasingly bizarre grocery shopping experience.
Once back at his place, we start boiling water for pasta. After a few minutes, it became evidant that WE were not in fact making dinner, Leo was, not pleased with our the idea of our version of pasta with cheese. Rather than explaining this to us, he just kind of took over, making his pasta quatro formaggi. As we were discussing what cheese to put in, he would interject saying, "no, no" making it clear that his recipe was to be followed. Dinner was awkward. Everything was awkward. It is worth mentionioning that his cooking was indeed excellent, preparing homemade tirimisu (using Marsala instead of a coffee or liquer) and a Tuscan style soup that were both terrific. We should also say that we are, as always, grateful to anyone who opens up their home to us and always accepting of different people, however this case was not one of a culture clash or a "bad fit"- it was social ineptness and lack of consideration in certain regards to people that are guests in one's home. There is so much more to say on this topic, so many more examples of where things went wrong/weird, but I would rather not think about it any longer. Our last night in Florence, we stayed in a hostel and celebrated our freedom from Leonardo.
Our first morning, we went to the Accedemia and saw Michelangelo's David. I was not expecting to be impressed, but it was amazing! I had no idea how big it was going to be, I had previously figured that it was life-size. We spent the better part of the morning sneaking behind pillars and poking up behind tour groups trying to take pictures, which was strictly forbidden and the rule enforced by several watch ladies around the room. The rest of the pieces in this Museum consisted of clay molds for other famous sculptures, and a vast array of religious paintings by notable artists. I can appreciate a fine brush stroke as much as anyone, but after a certain number of "Madonna and Child(s)," my mind started to drift elsewhere. A gentleman pulled us aside and asked us as we were coming down the stairs to leave, "oh, what's up there? anything good?" "More religious paintings," I answered rather bleakly. I think we were on the same page.
After the Accedemia, we considered going to the Uffizi, but decided we were museumed out for the day. We visited the "Duomo," the giant cathedral in Florence, next. This was actually very different from all of the other cathedrals that we had visited during this trip in a couple of ways. First, the colors on the outside were much more vibrant, which helped aleve the dreariness of the rainy day. Second, the inside had barely any seating, leaving most of the nave open for pedestrian traffic. The dome itself was a fresco of "The Last Judgment," elaborately detailing the final eternal home of both sinners and saints.
For lunch, we had an interesting theory. Looking at the map, we noted a grid of small streets in a neighborhood across the river, and thought based soley on that, that we could find a good meal in that part of town. I don't know if that strategy will work in every city, but it certainly paid off here. We had an amazing traditional Florentine style lunch in the basement of an old taven style building. The walls were several hundred year old bricks, arching into impressive high ceilings. There was a notation on the menu, explaining that because the restaurant used traditional old-fashioned Florentine cooking techniques, many of the dishes take quite some time to prepare. We took this as a good sign. Andy ate a perfectly executed roasted half chicken with roasted potatoes and Marisa enjoyed Crespelle alla Fiorentina, large homemade egg noodles stuffed with spinach and ricotta cheese, baked in the oven and finished with a creamy tomato sauce, delectable! We also enjoyed biscotti, small almond cookies, with vin santo, a sweet and strong dessert wine, for dessert. Although the biscotti can be quite dry on its own, when dipped in the vin santo, it's perfect! The other really great meal we had in Florence was at a restaurant called "La Messiera," which my parents reccommended and ate at while in Florence a couple years ago. Here, we sat at the table directly in front of the kitchen and were able to watch the chef prepare everything from cut-to-order T-Bone steaks Florentine style to punded out veal loin for veal Milinaise. When the restaurant became a little more crowded, we ended up with a few more people at our table. We shared fettunta, a tuscan garlic bread and ravioli stuffed cheese and spinach, topped with a terrific pomodoro sauce. Marisa ate Ribolitta, a traditional Tuscan soup made of vegetables, beans, bread, and stock. Despite being listed as a starter, it was very filling, and more than adequate as a main course. Andy enjoyed Veal Osso Bucco which was reportdly also very good.
With mixed impressions of Florence, we returned to our hostel to a blissfully quiet and unexciting abode, where we both got to chat with our families using skype. After having our fill of this Tuscan town, we prepared ourselves for one of our most anticipated stops of the trip - the Cinqua Terre villages of Italy, along the Mediterranean coast.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
