VENICE

VENICE
March 25, 26, 27

Ann came to Italy and Croatia about 8 years ago with her cousin, Jerry, and brother, Peter. Jerry had been to Italy countless times and knew the country from Trieste to Palermo. In planning the trip Jerry concluded that Ann and Peter “had” to see Venice so they went and loved it.

Fast forward. On this trip, I let Ann know that it wasn’t important for me to go to Venice. However, Ann felt that if we were in Italy, I “must” see Venice. After much resistance over the course of seconds, I succumbed. Good succumbtion.

Of course, the train ride from Lucerne to Milan was again spectacular. When Ann was purchasing our Eurail tickets she was advised to go with the first class pass (she blinked and made the decision). This train, like everyone we had, was always comfortable, never crowded and truly enjoyable.

From Milan to Venice, we sat across from a man and his 18 year old son who were from Garden Grove. Dad was stationed in the Army in Vincenza during the mid to late 70s and was retracing his steps with his son.

Shortly after arriving in Venice, we were on a vaporetto (water taxi) and headed down the Grand Canal. You either walk over bridges or take the water taxi. If you walk, you get lost. If you take the water taxi you only get lost after you arrive at your stop. There are small alleyways (streets) about 8 feet wide throughout this city They lead to other alleyways which lead to bridges, alleyways and ultimately lead to water taxi stations. It is a rite of passage to get lost in Venice, so Ann says, and we did our part in keeping this tradition alive.

After getting lost, we arrived at our hotel on the Piazza Santa Maria Formosa…a really nice hotel with off season rates but pleasant seasonal weather. A canal runs adjacent to the square with gondolas passing by, gondoliers singing their songs…muy romantico. Of course, there was a cathedral…during the day there was a make shift market, mostly vegetables and fruits…the locals used the square to play and congregate. Our room, with two balconies, overlooked the piazza. It was great.

We went to the Guggenheim Modern Art Gallery while we were there. It’s situated off the Grand Canal. It has a beautiful garden and a more beautiful interior. I was very moved here because it brought me back to my theatre days. Anyway, Chagall, Magritte, Miro, Modigliani, Pollack, Calder, et. al. I don’t “get” much of it yet it “gets” us. Peggy Guggenheim amassed quite a collection and we were informed by the receiptionist that many of the artists whose paintings were represented here were also her lovers….she is buried in the garden there, along with the remains of her13 dogs.

A couple days, we just cruised on the taxis on the Grand Canal. We sat up front…enjoyed the classical buildings, side waterways and the great Italian people. On the trip, Ann has been rather nonchalant about shopping but she did receive an adrenalin rush in Venice as we wandered the streets and made some purchases

We had some great pastas here: bigoli with anchovies, tagliatelle with smoked tuna, tagliatelle with shrimp and zucchini…noodles rule.

Before we left, we asked the manager of the hotel if he would help us send a postcard in Italian to our friends in Piacenza who were so kind to us. We prepared the sentiments and he substituted the language. Now, earlier that day, I had a talk with the manager. His thoughts about politics were always introduced by saying “I’m not a communist but….” Fill in the blanks…workers rights…health care….distribution of wealth, et. al. As you know, I’m non controversial but when he said free legal, it was time to put the gloves on.

Anyway, he translated for us but I suspected foul play. I went over the card with a bilingual Italian and one of our phrases was translated to: “your feet smell like rotten anchovies.” (Ann’s disclaimer: It’s not true and it’s not funny)

Gerard....a happy man in Venice!

LAKE COMO

LAKE COMO ...................George, where are you?
March 21, 22, 23
When I was young boy (don’t start yawning yet), my family moved from Woodside, Queens, New York to Port Washington, a small seaside town on Long Island. We (parents, 4 children) had been living in a 5 room apartment in a 5 story building. The Long Island home was a brand new split level across the street from Manhasset Bay, the bay was filled with fish, clams, lobster. Our view to the bay was virtually unobstructed. I was disappointed about the move. I missed the clanging of the subway trains, the constant arguments of our apartment house neighbors and the beating I used to get from the city kids.

On the first Sunday after we moved, we went to our parish church, Our Lady of Fatima. It was a predominantly Italian parish while our previous one in Woodside, St. Sebastian, was mostly Irish. We arrived a little late so we ended up standing in the back behind a row of seats. A gentleman, who was sitting on the aisle, partially turned around then stood and offered my mother his seat. He was Perry Como. When I have told this story in the past, the reactions have run the gamut from “It’s Impossible” to “Hot Diggity.”

In Cinque Terre before we left, we met Ashley, a North Carolinian who was studying business in Switzerland. He was traveling with his girlfriend, Heidi, and had just come from Lake Como. He and she had suggested that we go to Lake Como (as had Ann’s cousin, Jerry) and then to Lucern….good advice!

We took the train from Florence through Milan where we had an unexpected layover of two hours due to not making our connection…. which was in turn due to the fact that we had not properly prepared. Had we determined the final destination of our train we could have picked it out easily…instead we missed it as we searched for an information booth….lesson learned again. By the end of the 2 hours we had the Milan train station down pat and in future trips through it even helped some tourists. Our final destination at Lake Como was Varenna, which we had heard was a beautiful little town. The train ride was beautiful as we entered higher ground and could see snow capped mountains in the distance.

Varenna is a beautiful town carved into the mountainside above Lake Como. The weather while we were here was always sunny and mild. We stayed in a 3 story hotel right on the lake with views to the other lakeside villages (Bellagio and George’s place) as well as constant, but pleasant, ferry activity. Our hotel rate included a cold breakfast. One morning, we overslept and arrived for breakfast at 9:50 AM. Breakfast ends at 10AM. The waiter wouldn’t let us sit at a lakeside table….”only for dinner.” When Ann asked him to bring some cold mild (the milk there had been sitting out for 32 hours), he said, “fredo, not caldo.” Ann said, “not fredo, caldo.” It went back and forth but the waiter won out. It broke my heart. The proprietress, Laura, who was virtually smileless during the 3 days we were there, saw us in the breakfast area at 10:30 and her jaw dropped as if to say, “How dare they?” I smiled and waved.

There were concrete paths that went around the lake which made for beautiful walks. However, if you wanted to go to the village proper, you had to walk up about 100 steps in narrow, pedestrian streets…we did eventually figure out the way the locals went which was much easier. One lady living there commented that everyone had good legs. Once to the top, the look back down the alley way was spectacular.

Ann had heard that George Clooney had a summer home here. She had envisioned that if he was to come to the lake, he would arrive by helicopter. On our second day here, a helicopter buzzed a home near our hotel and right away Ann knew that George was in town….we didn’t see him but she said she could feel his smile.

We took a boat ride to Bellagio, a village on the lake, and walked around for a while. Normally, the ferry service goes to 5 or 6 different villages but because of the time of the year, it was only going to three. Bellagio is a cute town, more renown that Varenna, but I like the town we stayed in. All in all, a great stop.

The snow covered mountains behind Gerard is where we are headed next....on to Lucern, Switzerland

FIRENZE....FLORENCE

FIRENZE
March 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

We had a relatively uneventful train ride from Vernazza to Florence, just one beautiful little Italian city after another. We did stop at Pisa and got a glimpse of the leaning tower.

Our friend, Roger Lane, has been coming to Florence for a number of years and suggested that we stay at the Hotel il Bargellino which we did. It is run by Carmel, a Boston Irish-Italian and her husband of 15 years or so, Pino, a native Italian. We had a nice room on the second floor with French doors opening onto an adjacent, large, 40x40, communal terrace area right out our door. Since the weather, for the most part, was sunny and mid 60s, this was a great bonus. Another bonus was the complementary wireless internet connection that had just been hooked up the day before we arrived. Keeping a blog and uploading it on line is a challenge without that connection.

Florence, to me, is predominately three things: Piazzas, art and food, especially gelatos.

Piazzas, to simplify matters, are neighborhood parks. In Mexico this would be the zocalo. They are usually giant squares associated with a religious landmark. To get around the city, you first find the piazza then you locate your destination. Around the perimeter of the piazzas are restaurants, bars and cafes. There is always activity in the piazzas, even deep into the night. Figuring out your way around Florence is a challenge…..seems they built their landmarks and then sort of filled in the streets. Many times I would think we were going the correct way and Ann’s radar would be in direct opposition.

We did the art think in Florence. We went to the Uffizi Gallery where we saw Botticelli’s Birth of Venus and Spring. There were also works by Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, Canneloni, Manicotti and Lasagna. You need a reservation to get into this gallery as well as others, especially in a busy season. Our timing allowed us to pretty much waltz into these places.

One of the Piazzas (Della Signoria) has famous sculptures throughout. One of them was made by a contemporary of Michelangelo but described by him as a waste of marble. Mikey was a tough critic.

We went to the Academia and saw Michelangelo’s David. This was impressive…about 20 feet tall and perfectly placed in a rotunda area surrounded by what appears to be natural light. When looking up at it, Dave seems to be serene and happy. In actuality, Dave has a snarl and frown on his forehead signifying, probably, that he didn’t like Goliath. A must see. Also in this gallery are some beautiful Botticelli’s, Ann’s favorites.

There was a Cezanne exhibit in town which had a major collection of his paintings, more portraits and landscapes than fruits.

We went to the Piazza San Giovanni to see the Baptistry. There were 3 sets of doors around the church which had small bronze depictions of religious life throughout the large doors. Inside there was an incredible golden mosaic ceiling again showing aspects of religious life with a picture of Christ in the center.

On our last day, we went to the Pitti Palace on the other side of the Arno. The Medici’s lived here in the 16th century (?) and collected an enormous amount of art works: Raphael, Rubens, Botticelli, Titian, et.al. There was also a costume exhibit (what the Medicis wore or costumes that were in the paintings) up through the 1950s, beautiful gardens

with panoramic views of Florence, a porcelain/ceramic exhibit and a history of Pinocchio (I’m not lying). Ann especially enjoyed the Palace and the timelessness of some of the costumes/outfits.

In one of the piazzas there is a large statue of a wild boar surrounded by a fountain. It’s called “Porcellino” and if you rub its nose and throw some coins in the fountain, you’ll ensure a return trip to Florence. We did and we hope we do.

We had some fantastic food here. Our first meal was at Da Mario’s (similar name to the Genoa Restaurant). We sat at a picnic table in a crowded narrow room with five men and enjoyed some seafood pasta, minestrone soup and grilled swordfish. All excellent and reasonable priced. On our last night, we had tagliatelle with sausage and porcini mushrooms, ravioli in a red sauce and split a small steak Florentine…a large Florentine steak can weigh up to 5 lbs. What we enjoyed most was sitting on the terrace on a sunny afternoon with some fresh bread, prosciutto, provolone, olives, peppers and a bottle of wine.....that's amore!


Gerard said this lady was talking to him all during our dinner







On St. Joseph’s Day, March 19th, we were invited to dinner by Carmel and Pino. The meal was mostly prepared by their friend/worker, Mario. The highlight was a risotto fagioli (“fazool” as the paisanos say)…rice and beans. We also had fried artichokes, cheeses, crostini and desserts with some very nice people. Mario commented that it was incredible that one could still make dinner for 3 euros!

Can’t mention Florence without dealing with gelato. It’s everywhere and, I believe, they consider theirs the best. One night, we walked 20 blocks in the light rain to go to Vivoli’s,supposedly the best according to our guidebook, but in our humble estimation, it was no better than our local gelateria. Gelato is creamy ice cream which comes in 20 or so flavors rich with fruits and some times even flavored with nuts. Ann liked the chocolate, lemon and strawberry. I like pistachio.

We spent St. Patrick’s Day in Florence….went to the Fiddler’s Elbow for the “party”. However, no music. Instead, there were people watching a rugby game. I was disappointed while having a few Guinness’ and some Jameson.

Street acting....

Street art.....

At the market place

CINQUE TERRE

CINQUE TERRE – The five villages
March 13, 14, 15

Cinque Terre means five villages. It is on the Ligurian Sea, an arm of the Mediterranean. There are five villages spanning 12 miles connected primarily in two ways: By railroad and by hiking trails. All but one of the villages (Montorosso) are predominantly up a mountain side. Many people come here, not only for the beauty but to hike from village to village. The full hike is considered arduous for an experienced hiker. A partial hike (Vernazza to Coniglia) was more than I could handle.

We arrived in Vernazza by train in mid afternoon on March 13th. This day, as well as the next 3 days, was sunny, mid-60s and cloudless! We were met by Michelle who operates a 4 unit “hotel” along with her Italian partner Giuliano Basso. Michelle, who is about 30, 5’6”, proportionate and 3 months from having had a baby girl, pointed up to the mountain and said, “There’s your place.” I looked at our luggage and started having palpitations. Nevertheless, with Michele’s help, Ann’s guidance and my sweat, we made it up there in about 15 minutes. Ann counted the steps, 69, and Michelle confirmed that. We stopped along the way and admired the vista. On the way, in between heavy panting and Ann’s encouragement (“…you can do it, Gerard”) we noticed beautiful gardens, fruit trees and the sparking sea. Our “hotel” was charming: Spacious bedroom, nice sized room and a large communal terrace, all facing the sea. I began enjoying it after I wrung out my shirt and used my puffer.

We had a great time in this beautiful area. We picnicked on our terrace, walked from Romaggiore to Manarola (the lover’s walk), ate great pasta and seafood in reasonably priced restaurants, met some outstanding people and, all in all, enjoyed the experience. Due to recently being designated a national treasure, these five villages now have strict building regulations and will remain unspoiled. I hope you all will get here some day.

A couple of anecdotes:
On our first day here, while we were “checking in,” a young man and his girl friend asked Michelle if she had any rooms. She said she didn’t but if he’d wait, she’d help him find a place. While waiting, I spoke with him. He reluctantly (I had to cross-examine him) told me that he was a student at West Point. His girlfriend went to NYU and was doing a semester in Florence. It turns out that they are from Torrance. He’s spent summers at Catalina which, of course, piqued Ann’s interest, and they were traveling on Spring Break. I met another resident of the hotel, Katie, who was traveling with her parents. While talking with her, she put on a jacket which had West Point on the front. It turns out her brother is a first hear student there. Over the next couple of days, I ran into Andy and his girlfriend on two occasions and tried to hook him up with Katie and her family but was unsuccessful. Names were exchanged, though. Andy said he would be in Catalina this summer and look for Ann at Emerald Bay.

As mentioned, Ann and I took a hike on the coast from Riomaggiore to Manarola. Along the way we drew a heart on a wall with our names within (permissible, encouraged graffiti). When we got to Manarola, we watched a lone fisherman come into port. Unfortunately this town is situated about 40 feet above the sea and there is no place to moor a boat. The village drill is for an incoming fisherman to yell up to a paisano of his who activates a crane/winch from the town above. A hitch descends to the boat which the fisherman hooks onto the boat and it is then raised to the village area where all the local boats are stored each night.

One of the legs of the hiking trail is from Vernazza to Coniglia, supposedly a 90 minute walk. One day I ventured out on the trail. On the way out I don’t remember walking on level ground or downhill once. The views along the coast, back to Vernazza, and forward to Coniglia were spectacular. The trail itself was a bit rugged so when people would come from the opposite direction it got a bit precarious. Ann had heard of this trail from our friends Madeline and Jeff and chose not to test her aversion to heights. I made it to the outskirts of Coniglia and then made an about face. On the return trip I watched (and Ann said she was watching from our room) as a helicopter made about 10 trips picking up goods of some sort high up on the mountain and delivered these goods to a group of men 500 feet below. I was glad I wasn’t paying that bill.

There’s a guy named Rick Steves and he is the travel guru for Italy as well as other places. In his chapter on Cinque Terre he mentions to be aware of its charm for some people have come here , been enamored by its beauty, its residents, and have stayed. That Michelle’s story. She is originally from Fort Lee, New Jersey but later moved to the Bay Area. She traveled here in Sept., 2005, met Giuliano and now is raising a family here and operating the business.

We really enjoyed talking with her. One day we were comparing bad Italian T.V. variety shows with its counterpart in Mexico. You know, the loud, balding (or bad toupee wearing) short, fat emcee surrounded by tall, statuesque beautiful fawning models. If only life imitated art.

Our last meal in Cinque Terre was outstanding. I had a black spaghetti (colored with the ink from a squid), cooked in a red sauce with hot peppers. Ann had gnocchi in a gorgonzola sauce. We shared a typical main dish for this area of Italy: Anchovies cooked with potatoes, peppers and herbs in a red sauce. I know what you are thinking but they were fresh anchovies, mild tasting and delectable. Try ‘em…you’ll like ‘em.

We’re off to the big city again…Florence and its world of art.





They say this rock formation looks like Richard Nixon...Our last sunset at Cinque Terre.