Waiting for the Bus

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite. Or waiting around for Friday night or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance. Everyone is just waiting. ~Dr. Seuss

Dreams of Tuscany

As I sit here waiting for spring to truly settle in (spring is here, but extremely temperamental this year), I have to admit that all truly looks more golden under the Tuscan sun...even the December Tuscan sun.

As much of Italy seems to move at a frenetic pace, once arriving in Tuscany, movement almost ceases entirely. Existence begins. Life flows seamlessly and effortlessly. It is a place to forget and just be.

Above is the view I had from my hotel room, a fifteenth century well preserved monastery. Inside frescoes enrich the ceiling and the stone steps are uneven and worn, I presume from many a year of monks passing through. At five every evening the bell in the neighbouring chapel would clang wildly as if life itself depended on it, sending the doves roosting in the bell tower off on a mad frenzy over the village. But even in the midst of this predictable sudden chaos, there was an undeniable calmness and beauty. It is so easy to loose oneself here, melt into the surroundings and simply exist.

Ponte Vecchio

One of the most charming bridges in all of Italy lies across the Arno river in Firenze. The Ponte Vecchio, built in 1345 by Taddeo Gaddi, replaced a wooden crossing that had been washed away by a flood twelve years earlier. The overhanging shops in pale pastel colours add to the bridge’s enduring appeal.

Shop owners first set up businesses on the Ponte in the 12th century. Rumour has it that a tax exemption on the bridge played a large role in the creation of these premises. For centuries food stores monopolized the bridge until Ferdinando I de’ Medici had Giogio Vasari construct a corridor along the top of the bridge to link the Palazzo Veccio with his home. He couldn’t stand the smell of rancid meat emanating from the butcher shops below so he thus promptly expelled all such businesses along with any businesses deemed lower-class. Goldsmiths and jewelers promptly took their places and are still prominent along the bridge today.

The far bank across the bridge is bordered by the backs of picturesque houses, their foundations lightly bathed by the river. Beautiful views are seen looking both up and down the river in part of the oldest area of town.

During the German retreat at the end of World War II, the Ponte Vecchio was the only bridge in Florence not destroyed. This was apparently because of an express order by Hitler. As a result, this bridge is not only the oldest segmental arch bridge in Florence, but in all of Europe.

Basilica de Sant Antonio

I am staying in Fratte, not far from Venice and even closer to Padua. Today I will stop in Padua. Although often overlooked by most tourists in favour of the far more famous Venice, I decide to make trek. Padua is famous as the city of San Antonio and also boasts one of the oldest universities in all of Europe. My first stop is the Basilica di Sant Antonio.

Saint Anthony is apparently one of the most famous of all Catholic Saints and is often called upon to help find lost possessions, but he is also the patron saint of the poor and of travelers. Thus it seems all the more appropriate in the midst of this voyage that I stop.

The Basilica built immediately after the death of this Franciscan monk in 1231 is large and imposing. It has a unique blend of both Romantic and Gothic elements. Inside the Basilica you can visit St Anthony's tomb. It has been said that when the vault in which his body had laid for thirty years was opened, his flesh was found reduced to dust, however, his tongue was seen to be uninjured, fresh, and of a lively red colour. St Bonaventure beholding this wonder, took the tongue affectionately in his hands and kissed it. Although no longer the red colour originally described, the tongue has been kept as a relic on display.

Excerpt from "The Divine Weeks"

(La Semaine ou Création du Monde)

The rav'ning Kite, whose traine doth well supplie
A Rudders place; the Falcon mounting high,
The Marline, Lanar, and the gentle - Tercell,
Th'Ospray, and Saker, with a nimble Sarcell
Follow the Phoenix, from the Clouds (almost)
At once discovering many an unknowne Coast:
In the swift Ranke of these fell Rovers, flies
The Indian Griffin with the glistring eyes,
Beake Eagle-like, backe sable, Sanguine brest,
White (Swan-like) wings, fierce tallents, alwaies prest
For bloody Battailes; for, with these he teares
Boares, Lyons, Horses, Tigres, Bulls, and Beares:
With these, our Grandames fruitfull panch he pulls,
Whence many an Ingot of pure Gold he culls,
To floore his proud nest, builded strong and steepe
On a high Rock better his thefts to keepe:
With these, he guards against an Armie bold,
The hollow Mines where first he findeth gold,
As wroath, that men upon his right should rove.
Or theevish hands usurp his Tresor-trove.
O! ever may'st thou fight so (valiant Foule)
For this dire bane of our seduced soule,
And (with thee) may the Dardane ants, so ward
The Gold committed to their carefull Guard,
That hence-forth hope-less, mans fraile mind may rest-her
From seeking that, which doth it's Maisters maister..."

Guillaume de Sallust du Bartas ~ 1578

Cinque Terre

Today it's not raining, but there is a light mist. It's humid, but not cold. I must be off early. I am visiting Cinque Terre, on the Riviera di Levante in Liguria. The trip will be quick as I am expected to arrive in Zurich this evening on the 9 pm train. I could easily forgo this out of the way stop, but that would be to miss what I am told is breathtaking scenery that has inspired many a poet. I must go. I make my way out of town following yet another narrow road that snakes its way up the mountain side. I hope I am going in the right direction.

I stop at the crest of the hill to ask an elderly man for directions. The exchange is short as neither of us is quite sure what the other is saying. However, after a series of jests and pointing at the map, I'm pretty sure I am on the right track. I sneak one last peek at La Spezia before continuing on.

As I get further and further off the beaten path, the fog thickens. I wonder if I'm perhaps wasting my time. But I'm hoping the fog will burn off by the time I arrive. I travel through dense forest mastering one hairpin turn after another. Tiny, sleepy villages cling to the mountain side. I can't but wonder how people first came to such remote out of the way places. It's hard enough to get here by car...

I can feel the coast approach, the smell of salt in the air. The forest abruptly breaks open and the sky opens up above me. Then suddenly I see it. Nestled on the coast, where steep cliffs and hills drop precipitously into the Mediterranean, is the first of the five villages. It is stunning and I take a few minutes to breathe it all in: the terraced hillsides, the vineyards, the rocky cliffs, and the colourful houses.

I continue to make my way down the mountain side until I reach the city gates. There is no car traffic in the villages and all vehicles must be parked at the entrance. The village is tiny but bustling with a flurry of activity as the locals make their way through the narrow streets, or greet each other from the front of their shops. There are few tourists at this time of year so I am a noticable oddity. The locals, however, are quick to say hello and show their wares.

When I reach the coast, I realize that I can look in both directions and see all five of the villages. It's supposed to be a nice walk from one to the next, but I only have time to take a brisk walk to the one neighbouring village on this trip. Unfortunately my time is short. I will have to come back on another trip to more throroughly explore the coast that links these five charming villages. But right now, I have a train to catch.

Cinque Terre is a designated UNESCO World Heritage site.

Roma

"Rome is yet the capital of the world. It is a city of palaces and temples, more glorious than those which any other city contains, and of ruins more glorious than they."

Percy Bysshe Shelley to Thomas Love Peacock.
March 23, 1819

Psst...Check this Place Out

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. If you take a small country road from Bergamo north into the mountains and continue to follow the narrow roads snaking their way continuously upward, you will eventually happen upon a tiny village called Fuipiano. It is here, at its very edge, that you will find the "Albergo Moderno."

This place is of particular note because it serves the best Tiramisu in all of Italy and thus, probably in the whole world. My gracious host, the ever smiling Stephano, took painstaking care that everything was "just so." His father, the absolute spitting image of "Captain Haddock," who had just gotten home from a hunting trip in Ireland, eagerly lit the fireplace to ensure my comfort and attempted small chit chat in his broken English.

The village was quietly serene and the scenery...well, let's just say I felt like I had stepped into a fairytale.

Religious Landscape

It's astounding that I have posted so many Italy pictures and have yet to comment on the numerous churches. No matter where one goes in Italy, churches dominate the landscape. They are front and centre in every city, village and town no matter how large or small. They are also, in many respects, walk in museums. Art works that are hundreds of years old are open on display.

The following pictures are of the Santa Maria del Fiore Duomo in Florence. Above the dome is visible through a narrow side street. Although I took some pictures of the whole church, it really is quite immense and a picture just does not render it justice.

The construction of this Gothic cathedral commenced in 1296 and was completed by Brunelleschi in 1436. The frescoes that cover the dome (seen above) were painted by Varsari and Zuccari. The paintings on the lower part of the dome depict the depths of hell. As you move up, you come to earth and then finally at the top the heavenly realm.

As many churches this age, there are narrow passage ways and steep stair wells. Going around this one (I no longer remember how many steps...but quite a few) left me dizzy and breathless, and not just because of the view.

Finally, the dome as seen at a lower level. This church was unique in that taking pictures of the interior was not an issue. In many of the churches, because they are considered sacred places of worship, cameras are not welcome.

It's Not...

"Well, it's not Versailles," the woman next to me hastily mutters as she turns to her husband.

La Torre Pendente

Said Big Ben to the Leaning Tower of Pisa: "If you have the inclination, I have the time..."

I thought I'd take a breather from my recent political commentaries and return to memories of travel. Whoever said that there was nothing to see in Pisa aside from the tower simply did not know what they were talking about. And even if there was nothing but the famous tower, it really is quite an astonishing accomplishment and worth a peek.

A little history on the tower: The tower of Pisa is the bell tower for the cathedral seen in the photo below. Construction commenced in 1173 and continued (with two very long interruptions) for about two hundred years. From what I can tell, we are still uncertain as to who the architect of this project was, although there have been various speculations.

What seems to be most unusual about the tower, aside from the lean, is that normally bell towers are built along the facade or along one side of the church. Here, however, the tower is a total disconnect to the other buildings in the vicinity.

Back to the lean: The inclination of the tower is what has most fascinated visitors over the centuries partially due in fact that the reasons behind the inclination are still very much a mystery. At one time it was thought that perhaps the lean was consciously desired by the architect. However, it doesn't take long in walking around Pisa to suspect that this is most likely not the case. Just about everything seems to be leaning somewhat in one direction or another.

I absolutely love the picture above as I feel as if the tower is just taking a little peek around the corner. I haven't yet mentioned the workmanship of these buildings. They are made of marble and limestone. Even the sidewalk around the grounds is made of marble. It really is quite stunning.
This picture seems so typical of many side streets in Pisa. The streets are narrow and it really is much more convenient and probably quicker to take your bike. I found the walk along the river stunningly beautiful. Who wouldn't be inspired?

Tuscan Treasures

One of the most charming towns I visited while in Italy was Pienza. This little walled town is situated on a hill in Southern Tuscany with breathtaking views of the Val d’Orcia complete with undulating fields dotted with olive groves and farm houses.

This Renaissance town of 1000, with medieval gates still standing at the town’s entrances, has been designated by UNESCO as part of the cultural heritage to mankind. Walking the narrow streets can’t but bring one back to a simpler time, the way I idyllically imagine life should still be.

The narrow streets are filled with tiny family owned shops. Meandering down one alley way, I passed the local barber shop where I could view a local getting a shave through the big picture window. In another shop was the tailor measuring up someone for a suit. Store fronts are filled with locally made delicacies…pecorino cheese aged in ashes or vine leaves, wine, homemade sweets and more. In many ways, one can imagine that life is much the same as it has always been

Pienza owes its position as one of Tuscany’s most charming art towns to Enea Silvio Piccolomini (1405-64) who later became Pope Pio II (1458). Shortly after this he called in one of the more famous architects of the time, Bernado Rossellino to transform this insignificant village in which he had been born into a model town laid out on clear planning principals. The city has conserved much of the remarkable construction which happened during this period.

If you ever have the chance, this is one stop that I wouldn't miss.

Collosal Sights

"While the Colosseum stands, Rome shall stand, but when the Colosseum falls, Rome shall fall - and when Rome falls, the world will end."

~Bede

The three days I spent in Rome was not nearly enough to fully appreciate this beautiful, chaotic, fascinating city. I guess thus the saying, "Rome, a lifetime is not enough." What inspired awe in me most were it's ruined but very imposing monuments, the top among them...the Colosseum. I was in my element.


The Colosseum was originally known as the Flavian Amphitheatre, after the family name of its builders, the emperors Vespasian and his son Titus. Its construction began in about 70 AD in Rome's Palatine, Esquiline and Caelian hills. Unfortunately Vespasian never lived to see the completion of what became the greatest amphitheatre in the Roman Empire. Titus oversaw the final construction of the amphitheatre and in 80 AD celebrated its opening with 100 days and nights of games. It is estimated that during those games some 5000 animals were slaughtered and 1000's of gladiators also fought to the death.

It is estimated that this massive structure could seat more than 50 000 in 15 minutes. This was due to some 76 numbered entrance arches and a ticket and assigned seating system. Every Roman senator had a reserved seat with his name carved in the marble base and regular citizens received a free ticket numbered with one of the entrance arches as well as a level number and seat number. Sound familiar? This is because the basic structure of the Colosseum and the ticket system is still used today for many gaming events.


The Colosseum was used regularly for almost 400 years. With the fall of the Empire, it was abandoned and gradually became overgrown. Exotic plants grew there for centuries as seeds had inadvertently been transported from Africa and Asia along with the wild beasts. During the Middle Ages, it became a fortress occupied by two of the city's warrior families. Now nearly 2000 years of war, earthquakes, vandalism and general wear and tear later, restoration has begun and this glorious ruin is once again open for public viewing.

Chaos and Complexity

I found the juxtaposition of this very modern statue in front of a very old church in Milano rather interesting. In a sense it sums up much of what I experienced in Italy: a culture steeped in rich traditions with a tremendous history yet a frenetic and almost chaotic movement in the present modern. Even the word Italia conjures up a variety of images: for some it means international haute couture, for others design or architecture, perhaps ruins and of course yummy cuisine...in essence, a unique way of life. More than anything, I found that the Italians have mastered the art of living and enjoying life, a popular formula we all should make more of an effort to embrace.

Our Clothes Tell Secrets

Italians love to air their laundry...not their dirty laundry ;), well, at least not in my personal experiences, but rather their clean laundry.

I was recently in on a conversation where a friend was utterly incensed that the neighbourhood into which she was moving had a bylaw against clothes lines. My surprise, however, came when another contributor to the conversation considered my friend lucky to be moving into such an area. This woman said that without fail whenever she had company over her neighbour would have her laundry out hanging, and "who wants to look at that!"


Well, I don't know. I personally find the stockings hanging in the photo above or other delicate unmentionables rather charming when they are strung out on a line. Perhaps it's a voyeuristic tendency, or simply a desire to have a peak into the lives of others. In any case, I don't think it's something to get particularly uptight about. Besides, I am sure that there are many environmental arguments for drying your laundry 'au natural.'

Foreign Driving Adventures

Driving in Italy is scary at the best of times, but none was so harrowing for me than in northern Italy where the winding roads, often single lane, cling to the steep mountain cliffs and cars zip around the corners with unbridled reckless abandon. Hairpin curves, like the one seen below, were common sights, as were mirrors attached to sides of buildings so that one could see what was coming around the corner. Not that it would have made any difference with the speed at which some of the cars were traveling.


Perhaps the narrow roads are why there are so many mopeds and scooters in Italy. Or perhaps the cost of gas is the determining factor. Although scooters wouldn't be comfortable on a long haul, despite the element of adventure they might add, they are probably most practical for quick errands around town.


An additional stress factor to throwing myself into such a chaotic driving culture were my very weak (okay, non-existant) Italian skills. At one juncture I was pulled over by a police officer on a lonely country road in Tuscany. As the officer came over, I rolled down my window. He made some sort of demand, of which I am still clueless, although I imagine he was probably asking to see the car's registration papers or my license...I mean, how many things could he have been asking for? At which point I mustered up my best Italian and spurted out, "Parla inglese? No parlo italiano." To which he gruffly replied with an amusing embarrassment, "Mi scusi." And waved me on as he proceeded back to his car. It's probably police policy to not mess with the tourists ;).


Truth be known, cars aren't the only way to have adventures in Italy. The train is every bit as exciting. But those are stories best left for another time.

Tales of Rome

Upon arriving in Tuscany, I very quickly developed a fascination for statues of Romulus, Remus and the she-wolf.

Romulus is the legendary founder of Rome. He and his twin brother Remus were the son’s of Ilia, a vestal virgin impregnated by Mars. Ilia’s father was Numitor the thirteenth King of Alba Longa who was disposed of and imprisoned by his evil brother Amulius. So as you can well imagine, these twins were no good news. Amulius thus decreed that they be thrown into the Tiber.

As luck would have it, not only did the basket that the twins were in wash up upon shore, but a she-wolf found them and suckled them until they were rescued by a shepherd named Faustulus.

Eventually the twins went back to Alba Longa, killed their great uncle and restored their grandfather to the thrown. However, rather than staying to eventually inherit the kingdom, the twins set off to found their own city at the site of their rescue. During the laying of the stone for the wall of the city, a sibling spat broke out when Remus made a mockery of his brother’s work by leaping over his “mighty wall.” Apparently this was a great insult and Romulus in his anger struck down and killed his brother. Now try to tell me that there aren’t issues in this family. Romulus called the city Rome after himself (how very creative and humble).

Italian Coffee

Italian coffee definitely lives up to its name, although I must admit, I'm still partial to Swiss coffee. Swiss coffee is so rich and creamy tasting and often served with a nice piece of dark chocolate. Okay, chocolate shouldn't be in the equation for liking it better, but it certainly does help.

Italians tend to serve their coffee "tiepido" or lukewarm. At least this has been my overall experience...although there have been some places where it was served a little warmer than tepid. Lukewarm coffee is not something that I expected, so although the flavour was wonderful, I suppose I was hoping for something that would warm me up and cut the chill a little. I was told that the heat destroys the rich coffee flavour, and perhaps they are right as I have had far too many bitter North America coffees, you know, the type that is rather hard on the stomach, will give you the shakes and keep you up all night. It is interesting to note, that despite the copious amounts of coffee I drank while in Europe, that didn't happen once. Most of the coffee I had in Italy is what we in North America call Espresso, so as you can well imagine, such a small shot would hardly hold the heat anyway and when it's served lukewarm, well, you may almost as well chill it.

Now their cappuccinos (or cappuccinni as the Italians would say for the plural) were amazing. Although not super hot, they were served warmer and the milk was wonderfully frothy (just the way I like it) and the cocoa sprinkled on top was simply an added delight for my already over stimulated taste buds. What a fabulous way to fight off the jet lag or start the morning.

The best cappuccino I had: well, that would have to be at the Jumping Cafe in Milano. The worst coffee in Italy: the hotel where I stayed just a hop, skip and a jump from the Jumping Cafe (typical bad American coffee).

Please note... I do not think all North American coffee is bad and will at some point get around to posting about where you can get some exceptional cups of java in the area...unfortunately, my experience has been that much of what we try to pass off coffee here is simply a poor excuse once you've had the real thing. Okay, I concede, I'm a coffee snob.