The Best of The Best

If Aix-en-Provence was charming and relaxing, Avignon was a close tie for history and depth of sights. What Avignon is most famed for is being the double see (or seat) of the papacy in the 1300-1400s. Conflict raged in the Roman Empire and the pope at the time (Clement something) decided to re-situate the papacy in Avignon where it was not only safer and calm, but also a very central location in the heart of Catholic France, Spain and Italy. Benedict XII began building an enormous palace which was later added to (doubled in size) by Clement # (some other number) creating the vast Palais des Papes.

Getting to Avignon is easiest by train. Busses are possible, but a bit more challenging. Since the train station is right outside the hostel, I checked it out first. Turns out no tickets are on sale during the strike. The protocol is to go to the train, get on, find the manager and buy a ticket on board. The train the woman at the desk suggested was one that headed to Paris (good news for future travel to know trains are still regularly going to Paris). I hopped on and there was no one around from whom I could purchase a ticket. Unlike Italy, they don't come through the train to check and punch your tickets. This was quite nice as it was about E20 one way to Avignon.

I began by following some of the walking trails around town to see the area and locate a place for lunch. My morning exercise used up enough energy to make me hungry, so I grabbed a pair of croissants. I branched off one of the roads to find a place my guidebook suggested and when I arrived at #4 Rue de Amphoroux all I found was what looked like someone's house. Sometimes this book is 50/50 on its suggestions. I thought I knew which road I was on, but the map I had named only the main roads. Turns out I was on a different street, but soon fixed my mistake. I saw some more of the city since the museum I wanted to see wasn't open until 12pm. I knew it would be a short trip through so I walked some more up in the N part of town. [Right outside the cafe] Hunger got the best of me so I opted to find my second lunch choice Numero 75, a cafe in the house where abysinth was discovered. On my way to one of the main streets near where I had been searching for the other lunch spot, I somehow missed the turn I needed. When I started to see the walled parts of the city again, I knew I had gone too far. Fortunately when I turned I was on the only road that would lead me through this university part of town. Finally I arrived at the cafe. It was definitely worth it! It's been hard to find veggies that aren't too expensive in restaurants or a place to clean/cook them at a hostel. My French is so vast that I thought I ordered some kind of fillet and asparagus with it--something off the menu of the day. It turns out I got grilled asparagus with a pea/onion souffle. I was actually pretty excited for all the veggies and it tasted so delicious. There was even a mustard green salad with sesame seeds and a sesame oil vinaigrette. The bread was really fresh and something of a 1/2 white 1/2 wheat combination.

The Musee Angladon was a small place in a former house filled with great furniture (from the 18-19th centuries??) and impressionist works by Cezanne, Monet, Degas and the only Van Gogh piece in Provence. It was nice to see some furnished rooms for a change. Most of the museums are rather drab and boring apart from the artwork. From here I wandered up the main streets to see the central part of town where I ran into an H&M. For those unfamiliar, I discovered this store in the Twin Cities with its European fashions. It's where I got my blue scarf with the flowery pastel design. They were having a sale and I picked out a button up plaid shirt to expand my travel wear a bit and a yellow scarf with pink and orange flowers on it for a whopping E15. Not bad.

When I realized it was getting late into the afternoon to see all that I had left on my list, I hopped on a bus to see the Tour Philippe-le-Bel and wander the small town of Villeneuve-les-Avignon just across the Rhone River. My map mentioned an abbey that had beautiful gardens, so I started there. Turns out it was gorgeous! There were only 4 other people inside and the peaceful walk was quite lovely. Views of Avignon were excellent. I walked the purple trail through the old part of town and came across a monastery that I was debating on whether to traverse. I'm glad I did because I was able to wander a Carthusian monastery in peace and discovered the various rooms along the way. The guide map is pretty straightforward, so when I found a few staircases without ropes I decided to venture up. There were rooms set up as the monks would have used them with their small bunk bed, writing table and prayer spot. Downstairs was an herb garden, kitchen, fireplace and wood chopping station. Definitely glad I stopped here instead of the other church in town.

It was close to 5pm and with the last entrance to the Palias des Papes at 6pm, I needed to hurry back or miss one of the great sights of the city. I arrived at 5:30pm and was able to fully enjoy the audio guided tour. Built out of huge, white blocks of stone, most of the rooms inside were painted extravagantly though it's no longer on the walls. From what I heard, the place was quite richly furnished and so were the popes. Their vestments were expensive and their treasuries were equally filled with gold, jewels and the like. Secret rooms below the floor served as vaults for their valuables. Both halves of the palace were 4 stories high including the ground floor. Some of the towers for cooking were even taller. The guide listed off the food at one of the pope's coronations and it went on for a good minute about the abundance of food needed to properly celebrate this event with the town. I don't remember exact figures, but I think 20,000 chickens is not out of the ballpark. This along with lambs, bread, eggs, vegetables, potatoes and more!

After a long day I needed to head home and train was the only quick option. With the strike, I wasn't sure if the usual schedule would apply, so it was a bit risky. A train was supposed to come through at 8pm so I took the bus back to the station and checked to see what was available. Apparently there was a train from Paris stopping here at 7:30pm. Same rules: get on the train, find the manager and buy a ticket. I thought I would at least ask about a ticket this time and see if they were going to sell them. When I asked the manager about getting a ticket, he said something in French that seemed to imply he would take care of it after the train started moving or that it wasn't important and to just grab a seat. I sat down upstairs and figured if he really wanted to charge me he could easily find me. He passed by a couple times and never said anything, so another free ride on the train.

By the time I got back a walk to a restaurant would have worn me out. I headed to the market and picked up some chicken, onion, bread, cheese, wine and yogurt. With my olive oil and garlic, the chicken was quite tasty. Some more olive oil and salt for the bread along with the herbed cheese was also good. Now the only question was what to do for tomorrow's itinerary?

Film Festival Anyone?

Running out of things to see in the Nice area, I planned to visit Cannes today just to say I was there. Along the way you can stop in Antibes, an old fishing village. Michelle decided to join me in my adventure and we set out for the bus terminal and the direction of Cannes. Our stop in Antibes was....well....low key and blah. We never made it to the old part of town. We also didn't have a map and the ones posted around the port area were rather less than helpful in their faded colors and excessive marking of parking garages. We did see an old fort from a distance, having not been able to locate the entrance, and some enormous yachts in port from places like London and Oslo. After wandering around the marina, we were quite hungry. Our attempt to make it to the center of town yielded pricey pubs, cafes and many eateries closed for the day. Eventually Michelle spotted a grocery store and we decided to grab some small treats and snack on our way to Cannes. I selected 2 coconut yogurts and Michelle found some bite size salamis, herbed cream cheese ovals the size of your thumb and a baguette.

On our way back toward the bus stop we spotted a park and decided to sit for our snack. This was a fortuitous move as Michelle spotted a 200 bus to Cannes which we could then follow along the street to find out if there was a closer bus stop. The bus had passed before we were able to cross the street, but based on our finely tuned intuition and knowledge of street signs (like the one way/do not enter symbol) we found the bus back in the main square where we had previously been looking for inexpensive cafes. The bus happened to stop just down the street from us and a large group of people were entering. We had just enough time to walk around the construction and make it to the door before it left.

A half hour later in Cannes we stepped out into a busy plaza right next to the port filled with semi-permanent tent shop booths and petanque playing areas. Petanque appears to be a sport similar to bocce, but where everyone plays with the same silver colored balls and the strategy seemed similar to curling. The playing fields are typically gravelly which adds to the difficulty factor. The men we saw playing had impeccable aim to lob a ball 10ft. away and hit their opponent's ball dead on knocking it out of play or to gently roll it right next to the target marker. Since we were unable to locate a restaurant with toilet facilities in Antibes, we were in need. Spotting a Mc Donald's on the corner, we played the 2 in 1 card by getting a bit more food and bathroom privileges. Michelle chose a flurry with caramel bits and I tried a L'Petit Moutarde (little mustard--small square bun with a burger patty, tomato slice and grainy spicy mustard) which turned out to be quite tasty.

Strolling along the waterfront, we headed for the Palais Festival where the Cannes Film Festival is held. Unfortunately there was some media conference going on and the building was closed to anyone without a badge. There was a makeshift red carpet outside which we were able to walk along and we did get to see a few of the hand prints in the sidewalk. I even posed for a photo as the Hans Solo cut out with Chewbacca. Our walk led us to the beach where we rested our feet on the sandy beach. Nice only has pebbly/rocky beaches which really are rather comfortable and you avoid the sand sticking to you.

By now it was 5:30pm and we faced a 2 hour bus ride back to Nice. When we reached the bus stop back by the main plaza, a line of about 40 people were waiting outside the bus. Thinking we wouldn't get seats and would have to stand the whole way back, we decided to wait for the next one and be near the front of the line. The French, much like the Italians, are very pushy when it comes to public transit. Most people crowd to the door and push forward as if that will assist the entrance process. There are usually a small contingent who argue about who should go in first based on old age, disability or just plain think they deserve to go first. We were witness to an old lady who was determined to be first on the bus and had a short tiff with a lady next to her. If you're old and want to go first, fine--just don't be rude about it and expect it as your personal right. We were also flanked by 4-5 people who came from in front of the bus and bypassed the line as well as 4 Brits who walked up on my left side between the line and the bus. Wouldn't you know that we all made it on the bus and we all got a seat? Shocking. The ride, however, was painful to say the least. About 30 minutes into our trip we hit ridiculously slow traffic and the bus turned into a sauna. None of the windows on the bus open (safety feature??) and with it packed full, things heated up quickly. Michelle and I were about to pass out from heatstroke. Kids were sweaty and crying to their parents that it was too hot. None of it seemed healthy and all of it was pushing the limits of sanity. About 45 minutes later we cleared the traffic and, finally moving a bit, the roof vents provided a bit of relief. We eagerly got off a few stops before the bus terminal to pick up the tram back to the hostel. Phew!

We needed a few minutes to recover before heading down to dinner. Tonight's selection was calamari with pasta salad. Not being a calamari fan, I planned to get a pizza. As I surveyed the main dish throughout the common room, I noticed the calamari was fried. No problem! The pasta was fantastic too--green beans, red/orange/yellow peppers, black olives, dill and olive oil. Most delicious meal. Michelle, Louise and I shared a bottle of red wine and 2 cookies for dessert. After such a long day, it was definitely bed time.

Streets of Water

Not wanting to fool around with the 1km walk to the bus 25 stop, I opted for the bus 68 stop in front of the campground. I'm glad I switched to bus 25 which dropped me off right at the train station. I've been so tired lately that I'm trying to take it easy. The train ride was easy and straight forward as usual. I was a bit surpised how many people were on it though. This is the first time I've had people all around me in each of the other 3 seats. I would talk about the scenery, but I trance/slept through most of the trip. What I did notice was the rain just outside of Venezia. It's been so sunny lately I guess it had to rain sometime.

My next goal was to decide about which Venice Card to get. Include the transportation or not? For E66 and a 3 day pass I decided to go for everything: museum pass, church pass, public toilet pass and transportation pass. It was a bit hefty, but one trip on the water bus (vaporetto) is E6.50 and unless you want to walk an extra mile to cross one of the handful of bridges on the Grand Canal, you need to take the vaporetto. It's a fun ride too. Reminds me of all the fun times my family spent on our boat in the summers on Lake Erie. These drivers know just how to whip around the boat to dock without jostling the passengers. The directions to the B&B where I'm staying were pretty straight forward. Take line 1 to Rialto Mercato and walk about 150m. This has to be the easiest place I've booked so far in the last month! Plus it's really nice like a B&B should be. I feel so posh staying here.

Since I got in around 3:30pm I figured I should make use of my 3 day pass and start seeing things in the city. I didn't realize how much I would enjoy Venezia. I would have gladly left Bologna a day early had I known this. It's easy to see why people like it here. Everything is so picturesque. The streets are narrow with tall buildings on either side and occasionally a slice of sky at the very top. Some streets are completely built over and are more like tunnels. Everywhere you look there's another great view that's picture worthy. It's easy to get lost in the winding maze-like streets and easier to be so caught up in the sights you miss your turn. During winter hours (usually until April 1) most places close up between 4-5pm. It was a bit of a rush to fit in anything other than walking around the city. I had hoped to get to St. Mark's Basilica and maybe a museum. The basilica line was huge so I headed for the Palazzo Ducale next door. This was the seat of political life and justice for Venezia as far back as the 9th century. The doge's (head political figure of the Republic) house was also part of this building. I never realized Venezia was such an independent place. They deliberately chose St. Mark as their patron saint to avoid connections with Rome and the Holy See as well as to create a strong appearance through St. Mark's connected animal image of the lion. Most of the Republic's political positions were filled by the aristocracy; something which was carefully documented and watched by requiring proof of noble baptism and marriage certificates on file in the Coffer Room of the Palazzo Ducale. I walked through the former senate and council rooms where legislature and voting took place as well as the criminal and local court rooms and prison in the basement. The court rooms and prison were connected by the Bridge of Sighs where prisoners would catch a last glimpse of the lagoon and freedom before being placed in a cell. I also stood and sat in the voting room where new doges were elected--the largest room in Europe measuring 25m x 53m. En total, a very interesting and informative place to visit in understanding Venezia.

Now that daylight savings is underway here in Europe, it's light out until about 7pm. I wandered the streets and located a gelato shop where I sampled Alice (made with Mascarpone cheese) and Specialite de Riva Reno (it was honey brown in color with large candied nuts in it--no overwhelming flavor however). After moving about all day and missing lunch I thought a tasty treat was in order. I found a restaurant listed in my book for dinner, but they weren't serving meals until 7:30pm. Since it was highly touted I decided to search out a church for Thursday night while I waited. I came across two along with an ATM, street sellers of all kinds of things and a woman whose tiny dog was running ahead of her and over the bridge where I was standing. Instead of chasing after the dog (which she could easily have caught up to), she continued to talk on her cell phone and call out after the dog while being distressed at its running away. A very strange episode in deed, but something I believe is classically Italian.

The Antica Adelaide has been in operation under various owners and names since the 18th century. The menu in the window looked fantastic. I certainly wasn't disappointed! I enjoyed--perhaps relished or had a near ecstatic experience is more accurate--a mixed salad, the gnocci with guinea fowl in an orange ragu and a cinnamon/raisin tart all with a glass of the house pinot grigio. Everything in the restaurant is made from scratch the evening you order it. The lettuce tasted like it was just picked from the garden. The gnocci was so smooth and melted in your mouth from freshness. The tart tasted like it had cream cheese in it (though I don't think it did) and was a perfect finish to the rest of the meal. I didn't want to stop eating! I may have to go back tomorrow night for more tastiness.

Repent--Doing a 180

After doing some research into the next hostel I planned to book, I discovered I had to make a reservation 1 week in advance. Oops. I could still travel there and if they had rooms the day I showed up, I could stay. To travel 2.5 hours to Genova and another 2.5 hours to Cinque Terre and discover I had no where to stay did not sound very appealing. In true Lenten fashion I "repented" and did a 180 heading east instead of west. My new destination would be Bologna; a city known for great food having created lasagna, bolognese sauce/ragu, mortadella (i.e. bologna luncheon meat) and tortelloni.

I still had a ticket to the Giardino di Boboli including the Medici Silver and Porcelain Museums. After an early start (about 7:00am) with packing, breakfast and putting my luggage in storage at the hostel, I meandered to the park. That morning I noticed on the ticket that I had bought it on Tuesday and it was supposed to be good for 3 days. Fortunately the workers at the entrance didn't bother reading the ticket. The gardens were quite large and well groomed. No flowers or colors around, but the texture in the various greens, bushes, trees and paths provided nice scenery. One of the more strange features were very large, oval marble rocks. Two were laying flat on the ground like large, round seats and one was standing oblong titled "Secret of the Sky." I'm not sure what the artist meant to convey, but the stone was smooth, soft to the touch and nearly pure white. It looked like a large mint with a dimple/round indent on the one side. On the way out I breezed through the Silver Museum which had very little silver in it. It was more a collection of the Medici treasures and jewels.

I'm glad I walked through as this gave me a brief look at how sumptuous the Medici life was without paying another E10 to see the lavish apartments upstairs in the Palzzo Pitti. Necklaces, pins, crowns, bibles, paintings, fountains in each room and large highbacked, leather covered wooden chairs gave the impressions you were in the presence of a very rich family.

After picking up my luggage and waiting a good 20 mins. for the bus to arrive, I made it to the train station. I didn't see Bologna listed on the departures and I'm glad I checked with the information desk. I would never have figured out which lines to take to get to Bologna with my regional (slow/local line and cheap) ticket. With a quick 5 minute change of trains in Prato (just NW of Firenze I think), I was headed direct to Bologna in 1.5 hours. So began the trial of arriving at the hostel.

From the train station there are two options of getting to the hostel: bus 68 goes direct to the hostel, but only runs every 2 hours, or bus 25 runs every 10-15 minutes, but stops 1km from the hostel. Since I arrived at 3pm and wouldn't make bus 68 until 5pm, I planned on waiting near/at the bus stop until 5pm. I should have stuck to my plan. Instead I opted for bus 25 to get there closer to my suggested arrival time of 4pm at the hostel. The guy at the bus info station told me to turn right and walk about 500m. The bus stop is in near a crossing of an interstate and some random business which on a Saturday were all closed. Down the road is a bit of small town civilization and a hotel. I didn't see how I could "turn right and go 500m" so I asked a few people on the street if they knew of the street the hostel was on and they all looked incredibly confused. It's common for hostels to be on tiny side streets no one has ever heard of. I stopped at the hotel and the lady directed me to the road I needed. The only problem was that it was about 30-40ft long and had no numbers near 12 which is what the hostel is at. The next closest thing along the road (about 100m) is a huge sports complex. I asked a few people and an older man on a bike said the name of the hostel like he knew it well, whistled and pointed off to the left behind me. I headed that way and ended up at the interstate (probably another 500m). Suddenly the older man on the bike appeared from behind me and started asking me in Italian what seemed to be something like "What are you doing here? Didn't you see the road back there?" After a few minutes of telling him I didn't see a road and no sign only the sports complex--in my best broken Italian of which I maybe know about 30 words--he seemed to offer to ride along and show me the road that was plainly in view (to him). We ended up just down the sidewalk from the sports complex and he directed me onto a path with metal poles to prevent cars driving on it which became a road with cars. Suddenly there were brown signs for the hostel. Apparently if you come to the bus stop from the other direction there are signs all over the place. Mind you I'm still dragging all my luggage with me and now still have about 1km to walk.

I wandered down the road quite a ways following the signs when a car behind me slowed down. The man inside rolled down the window and asked where I was headed. After I indicated I spoke no Italian he said something about "you want to pass." I thought perhaps he said I had passed it. He had a clipboard so then I thought he worked at the hostel and knew where I was headed and was offering to drive me the rest of the way. Then he started to drive away. Huh?? I checked the buzzers at the house in case I had passed it. Definitely not it. By then he had driven back and in better English said the hostel was another 500m and would I like a ride (must have been broken English for "you want to passenger?"). I accepted and we drove to the sign for the hostel which he indicated was camping and not a hostel. We figured out his name was Tom and he was reading meters in the area and had just been at the hostel and campground.

He had traveled alone for 10 years when he was 25-35 so he understood the troubles of finding places on your own. After a few streets away we had cleared up that I was not heading to San Sistro hostel like he thought, but actually to the campground which online claimed they had bungalows and rooms to rent. We headed back with a few turn arounds, since one of the streets had become a one way, and stopped at the campground. He offered to wait in case it wasn't the right place. Turns out it was! I thanked Tom and he drove off back to work. That's what I call grace. Undeserved gift, but very much needed. I think this suffices for my Lenten Journey.

Turns out the place is quite nice. It's all very strange though. It is a campground. There are sites for RV's and tents as well as 4 rows of these pink/red brick buildings that look like military housing. They're pretty nice inside. It's like a tile floored cabin with two beds in the "living room/kitchen" and two behind a sliding wood door. Tonight I plan out my discovery of Bologna and hopefully find a way to locate a church with a Palm Sunday service.

Slow Down...Feeling Groovy

San Gimignano is a tiny town in the Tuscan countryside that thrives off of tourism. Its sleepy nature and history is attractive to all kinds of tourists--groups of students, couples, spring breakers, those tired of the city. The old part of town, like so many other cities, is a walled in section filled with stone walls, houses and tightly packed, winding streets. Grid work is not to be found in these places, but neither is fast paced, hurried living. The streets are meant to be strolled at an easy pace. Which is exactly what I did. No map is needed to enjoy the shops of trashy souvenirs or the quaint ones with pastries, local pottery and original watercolors.

After getting the lay of the land, I stopped at Enoteca Gustavo's (founded in 1946) for a salami and pecorino panini while sampling two of the local wines. The white was vernaccia--a medium dry wine with fruity undertones-- and the red was a chianti--dry, bold and pungent. The sandwich was excellent and paired reasonably well with my wine choices. From Gustavo's I wandered the outer edges of the walled city where there were great views and paths around the wall. Everything looks just like you would expect Tuscany to look: rolling green hills, small houses and farms, grapevines and olive groves, mountains in the distance.

In keeping with the town's lazy feel, I avoided the museums and duomo and sampled some sweets: nocini (a sugary dough ball dipped in chocolate with walnut wings), triangulino (pastry bottom with raisins sandwiched by a hazelnut crisp on top--this was my favorite), a chocolate hazelnut cookie mound and a dried fruit/dense cookie mound. The nocini was the only one I didn't like. Having finished my time in the town, I happened to hit the bus stop right on time to head to Ponggibonsi where I would again change for Firenze. The roads were just as rotten as yesterday, but the bus was a different style and took the rough road better. Dinner was left overs again and dessert was my afternoon sweets revisited.

Broken Glass Can Shine Brightly

Today's adventure was a day trip to Siena which is roughly halfway between Firenze and Roma. The boast of the town is the old walled in city with three notable churches, a main square and a few museums. I started out at Il Campo which is more of a semi-circle than a square. It was so built to continually play with the shifts in light and shadow. The center piece is the huge campanile at the semi-circle's center. According to my book, the one free church would be closed from 12-3pm so I headed out to enjoy the holy space. Once again my book is off a bit and the church didn't close up while I was there after 12pm. It was easy to hang around as this church had some of the most beautiful stained glass I think I've ever seen. It literally brought tears to my eyes. And not just one window, but one gargantuan one and a huge circular one. I wish I had pictures, but this was a no photo zone.

Fortunately I found some online. I sat and stared at the two pieces for a good 15 minutes straight. It was hard to leave here too much like trying not to stare at Michelangelo's David. While I sat there, I was reminded of the lyrics from a song sung by Tara Ward (music architect at Church of the Beloved while I interned in Lynnwood, WA).
Praise, praise to you Lord
for I never realized
broken glass could shine so brightly.
I was inspired to light a candle here before I left.
[Enjoy the rest of the lyrics and music at the album's web page.]

Following my inspiration, I stopped in at a nearby gelato shop to sample one of the waffle-gelato combinations Hannah (met her in Napoli) suggested I must try. It was quite tasty, but my waffle had large chunks of what I think was sugar. The gelato was superb. I opted for the fruit version so I had mandarin, strawberry, banana and blackberry/raspberry. With renewed energy I headed to the San Francesco church. Apparently this has been converted to a school. Teens and young adults were swarming about and signs posted mentioned language classes. It used to be a duomo and convent complex originally. I moved on to the duomo where for a E10 pass I could visit the duomo, baptistry, crypt, museum and see the panoramic view from high atop the tallest part of the duomo. The two most interesting parts were the baptistry for it's neat fresco on baptism and the climb to the view up top. The first level is at 61 steps up a tiny one person wide spiral staircase. If that wasn't enough, the second level is up another 71 spiral steps for a total of 132. The views were amazing and I met a young couple from Oregon with their little girl about 6-8 months. Thanks to them for taking this lovely picture of me.

Having felt like I had seen and done all there was to see and do in Siena, I purchased my bus ticket back to Firenze from underneath the piazza. It seemed strange at first going down to get my ticket, but it does provide one less ugly building up top.

As we bounced and crashed (the road was atrociously rough) our way back to Firenze, I noticed a sign for Volterra. Permit me a moment of insanity. For those of you who've read the second book in the Twilight Saga--New Moon--you will recognize this name as the city in Italy where the main characters converge to confront the ruling vampire family. I thought the name and the location in the movie were random. Oh no! It's a real city. I had heard a guy and girl in Roma talking about going there to satisfy her addiction to see it. I never planned on going, but when I saw the sign and realized it was not but 35km away...well I had to reconsider. Later that night I looked up transit to the city to discover it would have been very tricky to get there with the busses available--i.e. I would have had to get up really early and make a major effort to go. Seeing as I was not wedded to this idea, my moment of insanity began to abate and fade. Phew. That was a close one.

Stating The Obvious

Another slow travel day through the countryside from Roma to Firenze (Florence). Today's scenery brought more sheep, goats, grapevines and farms. The change in scenery from Lazio (province where Roma is) to Tuscany was marked by an increase in hills turning to mountains and more houses built out of rocks from the fields. The majority of houses were still the classic Italian stucco or concrete sided multi-story houses, but I don't recall seeing many if any stone houses in southern Italy. Up in the hills you could see remains of stone towers and the old walled parts of cities. The green tones ranged from bright yellow-greens to deep verdant teals. More farms had freshly tilled dirt. It must be getting closer to planting time. There are far more deciduous (leafy) trees here in the hills. Down south it was definitely more conifers (pines).

Transit was relatively smooth today. The train ride was the usual--a few bumps and lots of pressure changes as the altitude shifted as well as when trains passed by us at high speeds. I ended up at the main train station, which is always helpful, and worked on finding the bus toward the hostel. I had to ask a very helpful Asian woman for directions as the place I ended up using the ticket counter guy's directions was not right. She had this fantastic, magical map of all the bus lines and exactly where they go. I wish I had maps like this for all the places I go and need a bus. I'm terrible with bus schedules and where they go. It's my public transit weak spot. In the end I found the right bus and made it to the stop I wanted.

The hostel is quite unique. It's a former convent from the 15th century. Walking around inside is like going through a maze or like being in the movie Labyrinth where David Bowie is walking upside down and such. There's no set 1st, 2nd floors and the like. A staircase can go up here, but to no other part of the building. To get to my room you take the added steps from the lobby through a door, up another flight that turns right, around the corner, up 1 step and down 2. The added bonus for this week is the opera being performed each night in the former church next to the hostel. Each night for a few hours I am serenaded with lovely music and very high notes.

I wandered around the local area to see if I could get tickets in advance to see Michelangelo's David and for the Uffizi Gallery. Everything was closed up tight. I did find a grocery store and picked up some staples for the week. Tonight I made a pouch of pasta e fagioli which turned out like soup because I had no way to measure 750mL of water. The kicker was that I started out with a leaky pot and it went downhill from there. It still tasted relatively well. Oh, and when I returned from my walk about I discovered that there is literally a grocery store right next door to the hostel. Good for future notice.

Waiting For Godot

Close to fully recovered I headed out this morning for a day trip to Tivoli and the Villa d'Este. The estate was originally owned by a cardinal who had over ambitious plans for a ridiculous amount of fountains in his garden. The result? A gorgeous backyard that ended up being finished by those who owned the property after him. Much was done in his time, but originally planned fountains appeared after his death.

Transit was going well until I arrived at the Villa Adriana where I was informed I needed to take a bus to get into downtown Tivoli for the other villa. After an hour's wait I found out the bus stop I needed was 300m down the road, while two separate people had informed me the bus would come right to the villa. In the process I met two nice French people headed the same way and an Italian woman who made sure we all got off at the right place.

I wish I could say the grounds were up to par, but with about 40% of the fountains not even working and the rest on what appeared to be water conservation level, it was a bit of a downer. The gardens were lush and green for March. With my love of water, however, it would have been great to see the fountains in full array. Nevertheless I cannot knock the peace, quiet and relatively clean air I enjoyed for a couple hours. That made it worth the hassle of getting there.

Dinner was a rerun of my previous pasta dish, but it tasted ever so good after only eating sugared biscuits, bread and fruit for an entire day. Dessert was one of my two pastries acquired a few days ago--a fried dough with a creamy goo inside (perhaps with coconut?). All delicious and exciting my taste buds for my second mystery dessert.

What Day Is It?

My day began by trying to take a shower on a moving ferry. If you've ever tried doing this, you realize how challenging it can be. We didn't get into the Bari, Italy port until 11:30am (about 2 hours later than scheduled). The ride was relatively smooth. Some metal bars in the cabin kept squealing loudly on and off throughout the night, so sleep was not the best. Once in the port I had the challenge of figuring out how to get into town and find the magic bus to Napoli. There's only one, so I didn't want to miss it.

To get to town from the port you have to take a taxi that costs E20 to get to the train station. Talk about a rip off! I would have never made it there by walking though. The information people outside the train station said the bus for Napoli would be leaving at 12:15pm (that's what I heard anyway) from the other side of the train station. When I got to the other side there was no ticket office to be seen and a string of empty busses. On the way back down the sidewalk I noticed a guy in one of the busses. Though he spoke no English, he seemed very kind and happy to try and help me figure out which bus I needed. He asked around to some people on the street for where the bus left and where to get a ticket. He offered to let me lock my roller bag in the bus while we went to get the ticket. Once I had everything taken care of I noticed the bus didn't leave until 12:50pm which gave me a chance to get some lunch before the 3.5 hour ride. My new friend pointed me to a very close and delicious cafe near the bus stop. I never got his name, but there's no way I would have made it to Napoli without his help.

I think lack of sleep on the ferry caught up to me because I had a terrible time staying awake on the bus ride to Napoli. I did get to see some lovely Italian countryside with rolling green hills dotted with olive trees and grape vines. There were stone and plastered houses in various stages of progress and disrepair. A few lone barns stood empty amidst the farmed land. Later on we passed through the mountains where signs warning of snow flashed at us. Some of the higher hills were covered in a light snow, but not much. Mostly we saw rain. On the other side it was sunny and looked more welcoming.

[The bridge is blurry, but the architecture is awesome!]
I noticed early on the stark contrast between Greece and Italy. Most of the landscape in Greece was of the cooler color palate with gray or tan stone and a little greenery here and there. Though the people were welcoming and hospitable, the land was dull, imposing and stoic like rocks. The history of the land exuded wisdom, but did not make you feel overly welcomed. In Italy the color palate is much warmer. Browns, vibrant greens and cream tones richly invite you to relax and wander about. Most of the people here keep to themselves and tend not to speak as much English as in Greece. Perhaps since they have the Latin alphabet instead of Greek letters, they feel less of a need to be accommodating to other nationalities. Those I have asked for help have readily assisted me, but there's always someone who is having a bad day no matter where you travel or reside.

Once in Napoli at the main transit station, I procured my CampaniaArteCard which gives me 3 days worth of free access to most transit in Napoli and 2 free entrances to historical/cultural sites. I boarded the metro and got off at the 2nd stop as planned. Unfortunately the roads here go in random directions and change names every 1 block for the small ones and every 4 blocks for the large ones. Navigating is a real challenge. None of the streets I was looking for appeared and I ended up walking into a theater to ask for help. They spoke no English, but they saw the telephone number and called. The hostel is Aussie owned so fluent English is no problem. I wrote down the directions and headed out. Apparently I was a good 300m NW of where I needed to be to even start using the directions they gave me. When I finally did make it to the hostel I had 102 steps (give or take 5) waiting for me to get to the 3rd floor. It was worth it though for a comfy bed, free internet and helpful people.

There was apparently no need to go out for dinner as someone was cooking and made enough for everyone here (about 7 people) to be filled up. We had salad and calamari in squid ink cooked pasta. I'd seen it on the Food Network, so knew it was safe to try. Surprisingly it was very mild and quite tasty! And we all had black mouths which made for fun conversation.

Bon Voyage

This morning I decided to skip the additional trip down to Sparta and Mystras and to forge ahead to Italy. Greece has been nice, but I think I'm ready to move on to something different now. Sparta is also challenging to get to and there are no easy connections to Patra where I will take a ferry to Italy. The more I looked at the very few things to see in Sparta and Mystras, it felt like I could use my time and energy better in another place.

I checked with the owners where I was staying who informed me the bus would pick me up at the end of the street and take me back to Korinthos where I could then head to Loutraki and pick up another bus to Patra. Since I had already been though Korinthos, I had an idea of what to expect and how to get my ticket to the next place. Getting to Loutraki was relatively easy and the bus station was right next to the drop off point. When I went inside and asked for a ticket to Patra, the lady told me I was in the wrong place and had to be at the Corinth Canal to get that bus. A guy, who I soon found out was the next bus driver, said he could tell me where to get off.

Once at the Corinth Canal bus station I got a ticket at 1pm to Patra which would give me plenty of time to find a ferry company and some food before leaving Patra. My travel book mentioned an easy to find tourist office near the docks which turned out to be one of my best choices yet. They offered me easy directions to the correct ferry company, where to find food and best of all free internet! I headed down the street to get my ferry ticket and just a few blocks away found a restaurant to eat a large meal before the boat ride. I happened across a grocery store where I picked up some bread and apples for a snack on the ship tonight.

The room I booked for my overnight ferry ride is really cozy. It's a 4 bed cabin, but only one other woman about my age was in there. This has to be the most comfortable bed I've slept in yet! I ventured outside to see what it was like on deck--talk about massive wind! I was almost blown across the slippery, wet deck. The view was foggy and cloudy, but I could make out the lights along the coast of Greece. Here's to a peaceful night's sleep!

Confusing Corinth

I took the morning slowly drying out the last dampness from my clothes on the radiator and making my way to breakfast. I asked as the desk what the best way was to get to Korinthos. He suggested a bus since the trains often change schedules every few weeks. Armed with directions to the bus station and all my luggage, I headed out.

All in all, getting to the bus station wasn't too bad. I bought a ticket to Korinthos and the bus was leaving in a short 20 minutes. Nice to not have to wait around too long. A quick 2 hours later and I was in Korinthos. The only problem left to solve was how to get to Ancient Korinthos. The last stop left me in what seemed like central downtown Korinthos. No bus stations in sight. I dragged my luggage around the square and inquired at a shop how to get to the bus station. The directed me back to the stop where I had gotten off insisting that you could get many busses from there. I stopped a taxi to see how much it would cost to get the 4km to the town where I wanted to be--a whopping E10!! I recognized one of the hotel names from my online searches a couple nights before. I figured they would be able to give me clearer directions. Sure enough all you do is go to the bus stop on the corner and use the machine to get your ticket.

There were tons of teenagers waiting. I think they were taking the busses home from school. They all filled up the first bus to Ancient Korinthos, so I was hoping there would be another since there were still about 20 of them left. Fortunately there was and I got off near the place where I was looking to stay for the night. Success!! The hotel is nice, but really cold during the day and early evening. When I asked the owners, the lady (I think) tried to convey that it would warm up again soon and to let her know if it didn't get better. My guess is it must only heat at night and in the morning. I put three blankets on the bed anyway because it only ever got up to 63F--a vast improvement from the 59F while I was sitting there in the afternoon. Since it's still winter hours, most sites are closed at 3pm--just about the time I rolled into town. Since the ruins of Corinth are all that I'm here to see, it won't be a problem to wait until tomorrow morning.

It's All Greek to Me

I attempted to rouse myself at 3am in London to get ready and checked in for my 7am flight to Thessaloniki, Greece. Talk about an early morning. Or was it a late night? I'm not sure which timezone I'm in right now. I made it to the departures counter on time to get my boarding pass, traverse through security and then wait for 1.5 hours until the gate number was listed on the monitors. At the London Gatwick Airport, gate numbers aren't assigned until 1/2 hour before the flight leaves. This only served to make me nervous that I might not be able to get to the gate in time if say it happened to be 95 and at the far end of the terminal. Easyjet doesn't wait for you to show up if you are late. All part of the no frills, inexpensive policy. Lest the suspense stress you out, I did make it to the gate on time though only half awake.

I slept most of the way through the flight though some guy a row back talked non-stop all the way there. Customs went well and I managed to find the bus ticket booth. The one slip in the plan was I took the wrong bus into town. On the bright side, I discovered there is an IKEA in Thessaloniki. Yea for international symbols! Didn't think I'd see one of those here. Once the bus circled back to the airport, I got on the right bus and headed toward town. The only trouble was that the stops called out on the bus didn't match anything in the map in my book. I kept looking for landmarks, but nothing looked familiar. Eventually I got off and wandered into a motorbike shop. One of the guys spoke enough english to help me figure out that I was about 10 minutes from where I wanted to be. All in all, not too bad for not being able to read what the signs said fast enough. One moment in life when I can say "Thankgoodness for Greek class." I can't speak much, but at least I can read it. I wandered around the area where the hostel was supposed to be, but no luck in finding it. There were about 10-12 other hotels along the street, just not the one I wanted. I did manage to find one that was close to my price range. The lady who checked me in was very helpful. She gave me a more detailed local map and told me about a nearby internet spot.

Since breakfast at 3am, I hadn't eaten and was a bit low on blood sugar and water. Once I got up to my room (no elevator and two flights of about 10 stairs each) I downed some water from the sink and remembered I had some chocolate covered cookies in my bag. Now that my brain had some energy to work off of, I decided to walk to the train station to find out which train would be my ticket out of town. I ate some mousaka, beans in a red sauce and salad at Sofi's House restaurant. I'm not sure exactly where the internet place was the hotel lady was trying to direct me to, but there's a Starbucks across the street with 2 hours of internet with a purchase.

And so the adventure goes on to explore the other sights of Thessaloniki and beyond.

By Senses

Today I have opted to offer a more creative flare to the blog instead of only recounting the day's events.

The smell of cooked food wafts into my nose. Nearby are skewers of spiced meat ready to be fried or grilled at a moment's notice. Searing hot woks dot the front of many street side restaurants where men sit idly without work. As I move down the block the scents change from sweet mangoes to pungent durian. I notice a fruit that reminds me of prickly pears, but is neither prickly nor pears. The inside is a soft, sweet, white fruit enclosing a hard pit. Bags of the skins lie strewn on the sidewalks.

People pass by me at a slow pace. No one is in a hurry to arrive or leave any place. Trucks packed full of people, arms and heads sticking out while others clutch tightly to the truck bed railing, go whizzing by. They make abrupt stops to let passengers off. No one flies around since they are packed like sardines. Busses ferry people through crowded streets for 200 Kyats (20 cents). As I walk along the street I am cautious not to trip on garbage or fall into the drainage ditch covered by large cement tiles. Taxi drivers honk their horns to get the attention of foreigners asking "Taxi?"

Turning down a side street I head for the hotel. There are fewer people along here, but just as many restaurants and small shops with living quarters above. The bike shop, owned by an Australian, is on the left near the baby supplies store. I pass by two internet cafes filled with people. On the right is a huge pile of sand that has washed out into the street. No one knows what it is for. As I turn into the tiled driveway of the hotel, I anticipate the cool, air conditioning in the lobby.

We also studied prayer/fasting using Matthew 4.1-11 and the Tower of Babel Story in Genesis 11.1-9. Some of the highlights of interpreting the bible through Kachin eyes included:
God wants people to be spread all over the world and prevents them from planting their own glory (the tower)
As people move around on earth, they will try to hold power and seek to create structures

This morning I led chapel with a focus on the text Matthew 15.22-29 (non-Jewish woman who asks for healing from Jesus, even a crumb’s worth). The main theme was that something small can make a big difference. It’s what the woman knew was true about how God operates and that was enough for her.