Eau D'Cologne

Taking the metro to the train station was easy enough and there was plenty of space on the
train. It was easy to tell I was headed out of France as the scenery changed from relatively
flat or slight hills with grass and sparse deciduous (leafy) trees to more pronounced foothills and wooded areas with conifers (pines) amongst the deciduous. I slept for part of the trip and relaxed. The hostel was delightfully easy to find. Armed with a map and only one night to enjoy the town, I headed out walking toward the main part of town. I could have taken the metro, but this was my one chance to see the above ground area. Somehow at one of the major intersections I faded too far to the left when I should have turned right. Not unimaginable since the intersection comprised 3 main 4 lane roads and a plaza. Plazas are sure fire ways to get lost in Europe. Street names are never marked in plazas, only the name of the plaza. Since I thought I was heading the right direction, it wasn't until 20 minutes later I found a street name on the map and realized I had made a semi-circle instead of a straight line. I corrected the error and made my way through the very unorganized and winding streets.

The museum I was trying to locate was called Kolumba. I had it in mind that this was a place
showcasing artfully designed practical and functional pieces. Clearly I was wrong. This was
actually a museum built around an old church that the relative of a former priest (who had
served there) had excavated to preserve. Upstairs there were some modern art displays. Definitely not what I was expecting and it gave me a taste for German art displays. They prize minimalism here. Some rooms only had one piece in them.
[This was all of the front I could fit in the picture. It's huge!]
From here I headed to the Dom (cathedral) near the hauptbanhof (train station) for which is
what Cologne is famed. The massive church has been blackened from weather and looms over the
rest of the city. Since I would be walking all evening and tomorrow, I passed on climbing the
one spire. Plus I'm not a huge fan of city skylines. [This the the chest purported to hold the remains of the 3 magi.] The inside is enormous with stained glass all over the place. Much like Notre Dame, though a bit quieter and more respectful, the place was filled with groups and people swarming all over.
I left here and walked along the Rhine River passing through the older/touristy part of town. It was starting to get close to dinner time and I hadn't found a restaurant I particularly liked. The lady at the hostel suggested there were lots of places to eat by the hostel so I headed back. On the way there I came across an organic market and had to go inside. I knew the hostel had a big kitchen and I was in the mood to cook. I picked out some zucchini, potatoes, onion and 2 bratwurst thuringen. With a little bit of salt/pepper, garlic and olive oil it turned into a tasty meal. Even in limiting myself to how much food I bought (always a problem), I still had two large bowlfuls. No going hungry today!

Random Errands

Everything I wanted to see and do was checked off on my list which made today a random errand
day. I spent the morning sleeping in and doing some blog work. Afterwards I secured my
ticket to Cologne, Germany at the Gare du Nord train station and decided to check in at the
Gare de Lyon station to see if my lost bag had been left there. It turns out it hadn't, but
at least I tried my best to get it back. I feel slightly better that I at least have A scarf
instead of none.

By the time I reached the hostel again it was time to eat. To keep things simple I stopped at
the grocery store and picked up a random smattering of foods: chocolate pudding, berry yogurt
and a carrot. I also polished off some bread I had left over with a bit of Nutella. It was
all quite yummy and served its purpose.

I've had some postcards from S France hanging around in my bag that needed mailed.
Fortunately the post office was nearby. Inside however, there were no instructions and the
lady I asked about what to do spoke only French and pointed across a busy room indicating
where I was to go. I guessed what she meant and hopped into a line with people who appeared
to have envelopes and such to mail. I pulled out the last stamps I had bought in France to
show the guy who was trying to help me. He looked at them like I found them on Mars, but
checked with his co-workers to see if they were in stock. He returned saying he was sorry
they didn't have them. When I said I needed to mail postcards to the US, he seemed to have a
solution for that. Eventually I got the stamps I needed. It's strange having the old lick
and stick stamps again. Like stepping back in time!

On the way to the post office I noticed another grocery store. Another errand I was
attempting to complete was to find some saucisson sausage to bring back home. This market was
much better than the first one I entered. They had a larger selection on most things. I
found a small chunk of saucisson and picked up some mint tea bags for future enjoyment. All
that was left was to eat dinner and to decide on evening entertainment. I was in the mood for
a movie and the hostel had advertised a theater that showed movies in the "version origional."
None of the English movies sounded good. There was, however, one playing in French which I'd
seen posters for all over France and figured I would have to watch it later on when I returned
to the US. I figured why not just see it now?? One for Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec please. The show was 1.5 hours away, so I found a restaurant just S of the hostel offering salads. [Notice the PA license plate on the wall!] I thought it was time for some veggies. I had a HUGE salad with shrimp, salmon and mayo on dried bread, tomatoes, egg and two dressings--one a mustard and one a ketchup base. It took longer than I thought to find the restaurant, so I had a brisk walk back to the theater. The theater was really nice with stadium seating and comfy chairs. Just like in the US they run pre-show entertainment music (sorry no trivia!) and commercials with the previews. Looks like some good shows are coming out in the future. The movie was really good. I thought it would be more of a kid movie as it was billed like a cross of Night At The Museum and The Mummy except with a female lead character. I was puzzled when only adults walked into the theater. Naturally the movie was classically French--i.e. brief nudity and a quizzically grotesque twist to the plot (think Edgar Allan Poe/Alfred Hitchcock rather than gorey). I still enjoyed the movie even without subtitles. It would be nice to have them though to enjoy the dialogue more. You could tell from the movie context that some jokes went by without my knowing the full reason for why they were funny. Great way to spend the evening.

Versailles

Woke up not feeling too great so I took it slow getting ready. I ended up being 30 minutes late to meet up with Manuel, but better that than not showing up at all. I had no way to
contact him, so he would have just been standing there for a long time wondering what was
going on. We boarded the train to Versailles and arrived 20 minutes later. About 500m
walking down the road and around the corner brought the splendid palace into view. My cousin
Val had been here on a trip to Paris through school, but she didn't tell me how huge the place
is or how gilded! The glamor soon faded as we saw the very long line we had to wait in to
get tickets. We then lamented each separately thinking of getting tickets ahead of time and
not doing it. Fortunately we only had to wait about 15-20 minutes. Not bad considering there
were about 100 people in front of us. After getting the tickets we had to wait in the
entrance line to go through a bag screening (which I'm not sure anyone was even monitoring)
that took about 20 minutes again.

Once inside we decided to head out to the Queen's Hamlet to make sure we didn't miss it by
spending too much time in the Chateaux. Unknowingly this took us into the garden which we
could have easily entered without passing through security. By going the way we did we
procured a map and had a shot at knowing where we were going. We wandered through the vast gardens which almost looked imaginary or movie like at the far end (3.5km away). French gardens really means a wide pathway with white powdery gravel and some trees or shrubs along the sides. There is rarely grass and when there is, it's forbidden to walk on it. Apparently France is much more dry and desert like than I realized. We had taken a slightly shorter route toward the Queen's area only to discover that a large gate and a moat blocked our way. Making our way back around the wall and off to the far corner of the estate brought us to the first of three places the Queen had built solely for her. I didn't enjoy the first very much. It was very late 17th/early 18th century fashion which was a bit too fru fru and pastel colored for me. Many of the rooms had lemon colored furniture or pastel green walls with lots of pastel pink stone making up the building. It was nice to see some furniture though.

The second place was much more relaxed and almost like a summer cottage. The rooms were
smaller and cozy with a natural color palate. By far the grander part of this whole area is
the garden outside the houses. This was much more like a real garden. Grass abounded, paths
were small, flowers were in bloom, trees grew naturally and not into trimmed shapes. The
first garden by the Chateaux felt very formal and harsh. The Queen's garden was much more relaxed and homey. We found our way back to the far end and suddenly a whole tiny village came into view. What was this? Not on the map. We checked it out and it turned out to be the third part of the Queen's area--a farm, servants' houses, stable. The Queen really had her own place to rule just like she asked. While it was all quite lovely, when this was being built most of France was starving and destitute. Hard to reconcile.

On our way back to the main garden we stopped at one of the cafes for lunch and ice cream.
Realizing we needed to move along to see more things, we moved through the other side of the
main garden and back to the Chateaux. Originally we chose this day to visit because they turn
the fountains on for Sunday. After the first few up by the main entrance, the rest were dry
as a bone or had still water. Around 4pm an announcement indicated that some of the
fountains were about to be turned on. It was most refreshing to see and feel them in action. Moving water naturally makes it cooler and that was nice on such a sunny day. At last we made it to the Chateaux and picked up our complimentary audio guides. In typical French fashion there was only one number to listen to for the first floor, though it was filled with paintings. We had to get to the second floor with all the official kingly apartments before any new numbers showed up. [Famous Hall of Mirrors] When we reached the end of this tour we had another very French moment. The organization of the tour routes was never listed and both routes end in the same place without warning. We naturally kept following the hall around the corner when we realized that the numbers had changed and the information was going backwards as the numbers were counting down. No great loss. We trudged ahead and made it all the way to the princesses' apartments and the Dauphin's (I think he was the 2nd in command and next in line for the throne??) apartments. This is when we noticed we were running out of time to make it to the Neptune Fountain show at 5:20pm.

At a quick pace we saw the beginning from the walkway and arrived in just enough time to catch
the last few minutes. It really wasn't a show so much as music playing while the large
fountain was running. The water pressure never varied and there were no lights. It was nice
to see the water flowing though after so many fountains were not working. Having seen all we
could see, we stopped at a cafe on the way to the train station to avoid the large crowd
heading that direction. This worked out well as the train back was not quite as full. We
were going past the area where Manuel lives and it was getting close to dinner time for me.
Manuel thought it would be a good idea to sample some sushi at a great place near his
apartment. The food was actually really good. A nice change from bread and sandwiches. I
sampled some salmon, tuna, and some kind of white fish sushi along with 4 grilled kebabs (2
chicken, 1 steak and 1 ground up meats shaped into balls). It was all delicious which made it
worth the 45 minute metro ride back to the hostel.

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?

The Colors of Marseille

Having worn out my time in Nice it was the day to head to Marseille. With the train strike going on, I wasn't sure how exactly I'd get to town. I knew there were busses, but couldn't find the company or where the bus would leave from. When I checked the listings online for trains it appeared that there were 2 leaving at 1:30 and 2:30pm. Check out was at 10am so I figured I could sit for a bit and read at the hostel and arrive at the train station around 12pm to procure a ticket. Louise had left earlier in the morning by train for Florence and Michelle decided to take a slow day and join me in my trip to the train station.

At the ticket counter the woman informed me that there was only one train at 1:30pm and it was an open ticket--no reserved seats. Since getting the ticket was so easy and there were no long lines, we walked next door to a cafe for a cappuccino and croissant. Around 1pm I boarded the train which was surprisingly empty. I was exceedingly glad I had a seat and plenty of room for my luggage for the 2.5 hour journey. The countryside was much the same as around Nice--rocky, yellowish tan dirt, and tall apartment buildings in French style with shudders and tiled roofs. I opted to spend my time working through my guide book for Marseille and Paris to do a bit of planning ahead.

At a stop a half hour from Marseille a woman came up to where me and the guy next to me were sitting and appeared to be indicating these where her seats. So much for no reservations. Being only 1/2 hour from getting off I didn't mind getting up to stretch and I needed to be poised to exit as the train was quite packed with many people filling the aisles now. Usually there's only about 5 minutes at each stop, so it pays to be ready. With the strike you don't want to miss your stop as there likely won't be another train heading in the opposite direction you can easily hop on to get back one stop. Fortunately I made it off the train easily. The directions to the hostel were pretty straight forward and worked nicely. I was even able to get the my two bookings for the same hostel at their two sites moved into the same building. Far more convenient.

With everything settled I headed out to see a few things and walk the town a bit to lessen the number of things to see tomorrow. Being Sunday most places were closed and I knew food would be a bit challenging to come by. The lady at the desk marked a market that would be open, but when I walked by that spot on the street (and even past it) I saw nothing even close to a market. The only things there were closed businesses and cafes among the few open. I happened across an Asian restaurant and grabbed a dish of pollet citronelle (chicken something with red/green peppers and onions in a yellow sauce) to go rice I had back at the hostel. The way down to the port was rather uneventful and noteworthy only of the large number of atypical-French looking immigrants and homeless people. A variety of Muslim, Jewish, people who looked to have come from Africa or the Middle East passed by on the street. Marseille truly is a port town with a wide variety of peoples, customs and traditions. I think I expected it to be a bit more romantic from my imaginings of it from The Count of Monte Cristo, but Marseille has a much more rough, harsh exterior to it. Imagine a gruff looking old fisherman who actually is friendly, but doesn't display this openly and you'll have the idea of Marseille. [This is a Sunday street market in Marseille just NE of the port.] The way of life in this town seems to produce a distance between what people show and how they feel. Perhaps this is just a difference between Greek/Italian expressiveness and a more reserved French nature. Thus far, all I can make of the French people is that they are distant. My speculations are that they are more vain and self-contained than the more southern Mediterranean countries. Most people in Nice seemed rather friendly, but here in Marseille they are short and to the point--exerting themselves only as much as need be. I think this is why many travelers find the French rather rude. They seem to find no need to accommodate foreigners and are quite content to uphold their own language. If you don't first earn their kindness by attempting to speak French, no matter how botched or broken, you are likely to have a tough time getting what you need.

From the port I took a brief walk through the area around Le Panier Quarter (better known as Marseille's Basket). The area used to be a major area for breads, but now is mostly residential with a variety of tiny shops. This neighborhood was much more plesant and cozy than the port area. Eventually I worked my way back to the hostel and prepared dinner. The chicken/veggie mix went well with my rice and made enough for a couple meals. This way I can eat French food for lunch out at restaurants and eat on the cheap in the hostel.

Passing Through

It's surprising how much you can grow to like a city in only 3 days. I'm saddened to leave Venezia, but I have heard much of the beauties of Cinque Terre that I must go see for myself. Now having become a water bus master, I easily boarded the boat with all my luggage and promptly arrived at the train station in 10 minutes. I secured a train ticket to Genova with a change in Milano for a total travel time of about 5 hours. I was guaranteed a seat on the first half of the trip, but not the second.

Not much to report. The train ride was uneventful for the first part. It was a Eurostar train, so nicer and newer cars with very few people on board. I read a good portion of Pride and Prejudice as the scenery was mostly towns and little else to see. We did pass a lovely portion near Densazen, I think that's what the train station sign said. It was hard to catch as we flew by it. The town was gorgeous. In the background were grey puffy clouds and strikingly cut jagged mountains with snow on top. Below all of this was rolling green ground and finally at the end the town with its bright buildings popping out of the ground in stark contrasts of red, peach and yellow surrounding some kind of water. It all looked like a puzzle box picture. Gone too quickly for me to dig out my camera.

All I saw of Milano was the train station which was extremely large with an occluded glass ceiling. I had 20 minutes before the next train left to Genova and I hoped to grab a seat and be one of the lucky ones to not have to give it up to a person with a reservation. I sat long enough to eat some granola and sure enough a lady came with a ticket for the seat I was in. Fortunately I was early enough to have plenty of room for all my luggage in one place. I ended up standing the whole 2 hours to Genova. I was glad I could stick near my bags and was able to lean up against a luggage rack enough to half sit on it so not all of my weight was on my feet.

From the Principe train station in Genova I had to take the lift and then bus 40 to the hostel. Turns out the lift is a box that rolls up the hillside and around the corner to a shaft where it rolls into a carrier that turns it into an elevator and takes you up through the mountainside. It was very cool. I've never seen anything like it. Right up there in the levels of odd excitement like the washing machine elevators that take you to the top of the St. Louis Arch. The bus 40 stop was conveniently right outside the lift exit--awesome! After a good 15 minute wait the bus did arrive and dropped me off right at the hostel as expected.

Genova doesn't have much to explore or write about from what I can tell. Still battling my cold for day 3 now, I decided to hang inside and do some investigating on the internet for the next portion of my trip. Dinner consisted of a boxed meal from the hostel of chicken, potatoes and marinara sauce. Surprisingly it was quite filling. The bed is much softer than the one in Venice so I'm hoping for a good night's sleep to fight this cold.

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.

Leaning South

A short 1/2 hour train ride to the west of Firenze lands you in Pisa. A 25 minute walk from the train station gets you into the old part of town. Pisa was a long ago booming metropolis. Then a port town on the Mediterranean, it flourished with art, science and culture. The diversity of people included Africa, France, along with areas of western Asia. Galileo Galilei prospered here among many other brilliant people. After pummelings from various neighboring powers, Pisa declined and fell more toward the strong Medici influence of Firenze. Most notably we recognize the town for its famous campanile that is leaning south at a precarious angle. Upon reaching the Campo dei Miracoli (Field of Miracles), my first reaction was "I thought the tower would be taller." In pictures the tower looks to be 7-8 stories high. Standing there in person it seemed more like 5 stories.

My first goal was to secure a ticket for climbing the leaning tower just in case it turned out to be a busy day and the time slots were all filled. I managed to get the last spot for the 12:40pm climb. Apparently there was plenty of space, but I'm glad I started with the tower and then had the rest of the time slowly view the other areas. The climb to the top is 300 steps (though I only counted 295) spiraling around the inside to about the 6th floor and then spiraling in a smaller staircase on the north side up to the very top floor. The marble steps are deeply worn at varying angles as you feel the angle of the tower in the circular climb.

It looked to be about a good 1/2" depression in the stone. How long and how many people has it taken to make that kind of dent in marble?? When you finally reach the top, the view is fantastic and much higher than it looks from the ground. The height of the people on the ground looked to be about the size of my thumb.

Next door to the leaning tower is the duomo (cathedral) with the typical decorative ceiling, massive paintings in side chapels and ornate main altar. The raised pulpit was designed by Nicola Pisano and was it every large. The platform was roughly 6ft. in diameter. Imagine delivering a sermon from there! Behind the duomo is the baptistry. This circular building was designed after the one in Jerusalem. The most interesting feature is the acoustics.

Every half hour a woman sings a demonstration of the sound quality. By singing in a normal voice from the center, her voice filled the entire room (floor to ceiling) as she created beautiful chords with minimal effort. To the side of the baptistry is the Camposanto. This was probably the least interesting building as it is a cemetery filled with local Pisan civic, cultural and spiritual leaders. The frescoes were nice, but they really aren't my flavor of art. The initial sketches done in a red earthen mixture prior to the fresh (fresco) plaster layer were discovered when the frescoes peeled off from decay. These sketches are now preserved in a museum near the duomo. It was really stunning to see the plans laid out by these master artists and how they occasionally shifted a pose. My last stop was a more general museum housing various bits of art and history from the duomo, campanile and Camposanto.

Another quick 30 minute train ride brought me back to Firenze. Dinner was left overs again as I needed to finish off my food before moving on to my next stop. I'm planning on heading to Cinque Terre--a national park area with 5 resort villages along the western Mediterranean cost of Italy known as the Ligurian Sea or the Gulf of Genova.

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.