Dan & Christina Kronstal

Our train ride to Venice was short – just over an hour. An early start, mandated by our early-ish checkout time, saw us checking in to our new home at noon, so we had most of the day to explore Venice. We were not staying in Venice, since it’s so expensive, and easily accessible from nearby Marghera. We took the one-stop train ride into town, where I had my first (and Christina’s second) look at the famous canals of Venice. The canals of Amsterdam and Bruges were very nice, but always seemed a little frivolous. Here they are clearly a way of life, mostly evident in the water taxis and gondolas ferrying tourists about, but also in the more mundane logistical support of a community on the water.

We crossed the bridge and were swept away in the tide of tourists, most of them heading for either Rialto Bridge or San Marco square. We followed the flow for a few blocks, crossing the small bridges, and winding our way through the crowded alleys.

To be honest, at this point I could probably just post a bunch of pictures of canals and call it “done”. So fundamental to the image of Venice, and the one thing that everyone is sure to remember. There are other things that will stick with me after our visit though. The sight of uniformed gondoleers stroking their way through tight waterways, or ashore, bursting out in song to attract passing tourists. Bridges in every style, from ancient stone to wood to modern metal arches, in innumerable variety. Late night classical music in nearly vacant campos by musicians who, for once, seeming to play for themselves instead of the small change. We heard more live music in Venice than in the rest of Italy combined.

Each of our three days were characterized by different features. Due to our early arrival in town, our first was a very nearly full day – as we tend to schedule things.

We spent the early part of the day browsing around the key highlights of the map, and covered the core of Venice quite nicely. Piazza San Marco and Rialto Bridge featured prominently on our list of objectives, but unknown to me Christina had a third priority.

We stopped by the sales floor of a Murano glass factory, where she showed an unusually specific interest in some types of pieces. I had not known that on their previous visit the Escabillas family had picked up a set of fancy glassware; I was not aware that Christina was interested in getting a set of her own; and I did not expect to be making any such purchases. But they had, she was, and we did.

Rialto Bridge the largest and fanciest among the hundreds in Venice. You’re going to walk on it when you arrive, if for no other reason than to get to Piazza San Marco. Situated strategically along the Grand Canal, it photographs very nicely at any time of the day, and provides spectacular views out to either side of the water, including the numerous restaurants and cafe’s that line the river. If Venice has a “symbol”, other than the canals themselves, this bridge is probably it.

San Marco is the key congregation point for tourists in Venice. Whether they’re arriving by bus, train, or cruise ship, it’s the first place nearly everyone goes. It was packed with people, like most of Venice’s key attractions, but there the people are part of the reason to go. It is very entertaining to sit on the sidelines and watch the tourists feeding pigeons, and posing amongst the huge flocks – sometimes with a bird eating right out of their hands. We didn’t take any pictures like that, but had a good time watching, as well as listening to the bands playing on stages set up in front of restaurant patios. At these restaurants you don’t pay coperto or service charges, but your 1€ expresso will cost you 8€ instead.

Our second day we wandered a little farther, and spent somewhat less time wandering the highlighted “tourists go here” route on the map. We stopped by a restaurant recommended by a woman from the post office for lunch, where we had a massive meal, and had to keep walking to fend off the afternoon snooze impulse.

One advantage of staying a little further from the center seems to be that you can’t just nip back to your room for a “little nap” (which historically seems to take not less than two hours). We headed nearly as far west as one can go, along the waterfront promenade. The restaurants and shops gradually give way to more residential areas that finally conclude in a very nice park space which extends to the westerly-most point of Venice (not counting Lido island). This park is absolutely strewn with marble statues, most of which bear no plaque or name, and seem to be present simply for the aesthetic value of having something white in amongst the greenery.

Instead of dinner this night, owing to our daunting prior meal, we shared a carafe of wine at a small place just next to the Rialto Bridge, where we sat and wrote for a couple of hours, watching the people walk by and the sun go down.

Taking advantage of the dusk, we put our photographic abilities to the test, and tried taking some night-time shots of the city. We then got horribly lost, and wandered the maze of streets for some time before finally finding the bus station and riding home.

Until now I had enjoyed our time in Venice, but not been as impressed as I had hoped. Yes, the squares were nice, the buildings were pretty, and there was about enough fancy stuff to justify the number of times that the adjective “decadent” is used in describing Venetian style. Somehow it all felt too crafted, or forced, or put-on to satisfy me.

Our third day was chiefly spent exploring the south and west of town, and it was on this day that Venice started to click for me. There were a few reasons for this. We knew our way around a little by now – particularly following the unplanned and uncharted questing of the previous night – and various landmarks were starting to show themselves useful in orienteering through the confusion. Accademia, the area of the city at the hub of our days walking, was far enough from the easily accessible touristy areas that the ratio of tourists to residents began to even out. Finally, perhaps related to the last point, we got to see some places that felt like truly authentic Venice, and gave me the impression that a city like this could actually exist and be “normal”.

We navigated successfully to Accademia, and could immediately see the difference between crowds toting cameras and crowds toting notebooks and laptops. Here the churches were not charging admission, prices at the restaurants was somewhat lower, and the atmosphere was less hurried.

We slowed our pace to match, and had a nice long lunch in one of the smaller squares, then lounged over a couple of capuccinos and wrote postcards. Later we walked on, to Fondamenta Zattere ai Saloni, where we found a great view looking back north and east at the city, from the point of a dock south of San Marco. We hung out there for a little while, taking photos and checking out the wharf.

Walking back towards the more popular streets we happened upon a repair yard for gondolas. Several were right up out of the water, having some work done, and it was really neat to catch a glimpse of this “back of house” operation. We took our time walking back through the main areas of Venice, and took a lot of photos, but mostly photos of canals, which would likely look very much the same from one to the next, so I’m going to leave most of them out.

We had a last dinner in Italy at a nice little joint, tucked away in one of the small squares, free from most of the tourist traffic. A good sign was that we were the only couple inside speaking English. Our food was simple but tasty – bruschetta and a couple of pasta dishes, one with tomatoes and the other with pesto. A very nice way to conclude our Italian dining.

When we were talking to my folks about their experience in Venice it had not sounded like a place I would want to visit. Mom said that I aught to be sure to go though, since it’s one-of-a-kind. Though it’s not a designation that very many places can claim, as we know after so much touring around, she was right. Venice truly is unique.

When we had set out to visit Italy I had high hopes of finding a nice farm or vineyard host, something like we had in Australia, and thereby prolonging our time here. Unfortunately that hasn’t worked as well as I wanted, since we’ve been really packing on the miles. Despite our earlier plans for a longer stay, it feels like a good time to move on, so we’ll be doing just that and continuing north, out of Italy and into Austria. As we begin heading north in earnest the temperature is dropping fast. We lost nearly 20 degrees when we left Sorrento for Verona, so it feels like maybe we’re doing this part backwards. Now we know for next time….

I am surprised by how much I enjoyed our stay in “Fair Verona”. In ways that have nothing to do with Shakespeare, it is a very charming and historical town with a certain je ne sais pas, a friendly feeling. Likely, it helped that we met more Canadian travellers there, and on the way there, than anywhere else during our travels.

It took three separate trains to convey us from Sorrento to Verona. First, on the cheap “commuter” train from San Agnello to Napoli we met a couple from Atlantic Canada, then second from Napoli to Bologna was another couple, this time from Toronto. We chatted with those, passing the travel time quickly.

Upon arrival in Verona, David, our host at Al Quadrifoglio Bed & Breakfast claimed to have been innundated with Canadians this past week, so it must be a popular time to travel. He gave us a map of town, marking off a number of recommended areas and particular sights. One of his recommendations was dinner at alla Quercia, a restaurant run by the same family for over twenty years, where he claimed we would get an authentic Italian family dinner. We walked over to check it out but it looked closed. Another couple emerged as we stood there and informed us that they had just inquired, and apparently there was yet another hour before the restaurant would open. Jeff and Tammy were also staying at the same B&B, and were from Ottawa, but had spent time in Calgary. We went with them for a drink from a nearby wine bar to pass the time, and chatted like old friends. When we had waited long enough, we returned to the restaurant and got a table for four. There we spent an entertaining and delicious evening enjoying a thoroughly Italian dining experience. There was no menu. Instead the waiter (the son of the owner, and the only one who had a smattering of English) rattled off a few options, laying out a schedule according to the popular Primi, Secondi & Contorni, Dessert formula. We don’t often pack in that much food in a meal, since just the Primi is generally enough to fill us up. In this case we took the full meal deal – in part because we didn’t have much choice – and let the waiter bring us a parade of laden dishes. I very much regret not having taken some pictures, but you can trust that it was a very full table. In the end, the three course meal for four diners came to 63€. One of our cheapest restaurant meals in Italy.

In the morning we were properly breakfasted, then headed in to check out Verona.

Christina was keen to start with the obvious, so we first visited Casa di Giulietta, owned in antiquity by the dell Capello family, popularly believed to be the namesake for Shakespeare’s Capulets. Since the balcony in that courtyard was added in the 1930′s it’s not likely the genuine article, but it makes a great tourist attraction.

After a little more looking than seemed neccessary we found the Club di Giulietta, where lovelorn lasses can leave letters, which are apparently actually responded to, as seen in the film Letters to Juliet.

We spent some time wandering the streets, and were surprised with the quantity of nice shops, and historic buildings. Apparently Verona is a pretty stylish place, even compared with other big Italian names like Florence and Rome.

Hilltop museum

Dante and friends

Roman ruins

Every time we crossed a bridge I would have to stop and take photos of the picturesque river and hills beyond. I was genuinely surprised at how attractive the city was – even after having seen many other Italian cities cut from this same cloth.

One event underway at the castle-like, and appropriately named Castelvecchio Bridge. Renaissance dressed vendors were selling all sorts of hand-made goods, foods, and crafts. Amongst the interesting items on display were several tables of tartufo, or truffles, packed in various preservatives, but also on their own, which was neat to see. We walked the length of the bridge, shuffling along with a horde of tourists who packed the bridge, finally emerging on the other end into The Arsenal.

The park and old buildings were populated by a small fair ground and market. The Arsenal Vintage Market is an annual event showcasing the goods of the vintage shops in town, all under one roof. In addition, live music is played nightly in one of the courtyards and our ticket in admitted us into that show as well. I took some time to browse the goods, and picked out something for Liz’s birthday – though my first couple of choices were pieces from “important designers” (of whom I’d never heard) and therefore into the multiple hundreds of Euros, which, as much as I love my sister, is a little heavy for this trip.Anyway, with Christina’s stylistic input I picked up the goods, then we went out for Thanksgiving Dinner. Sushi. While a little unconventional, they don’t really do turkey dinner here, and Christina was jonesing for a flavor from home.

Back at the B&B we met another new Canadian couple, David & Dianne, who were actually from Calgary and we enjoyed talking to them about home and travel. They had taken started their trip in the south, and told us about their different experiences there. One of my “next time” wishes for Italy is to visit Sicily, so it was neat to hear their good report.

We headed out to the concert, dressed warmly against the relatively cool evening air. Back at The Arsenal we found an Airstream, converted into a stage and production set for the show. The band billed themselves as “Folk Cabaret”, which is an interesting mix, but they did a pretty good job of living up to it. One member in particular was entertaining, and played a saxophone, flute, and strange mix of mouth harps and sound effect devices. The show was entertaining, but the evening was getting cold, so we headed straight home afterword.

In the morning we met Sebastian & Anja over breakfast. They were on holiday from Germany, and told us about some of what we had to look forward to once we arrived. We dallied and chatted for a while, until our hostess cleared us out and we had to get on with the day.

Christina wanted to check out The Arena, a sort of “mini-Colosseum” and another of Verona’s well known sights. We walked through town, and checked it out, but it was a little underwhelming both because of it’s smaller size, and because it was quite covered with scaffolding. They were taking down the sets from the show season, which we just barely missed.

We walked on to the train station to pick up some tickets for our next day’s travel to Venice, then on the way back into town stopped by McDonalds for some good ol’ Western lunch. We walked around town, covering some streets we had not seen the prior day, most particularly Ponte Pietra, as seen in most of the postcards in the rack. We walked along the river, back into down, down some more streets, then back to the B&B for a rest. We met up with both other couples staying there, and all left at the same time, but to different locations for our respective dinners.

Christina and I wandered around before selecting a restaurant, but finally chose one away from the touristy square. We had a nice meal, though Christina received “scampi” instead of “salmon”, then we headed back home. We regrouped with the gang there for a report on dinner. The Canadians had returned (for the second time) to the family joint down the road, while the Germans (inciting Christina’s jealousy) had gone to the sushi joint. We shared a moment over sushi reminiscences. Anja encouraged Christina with the news that Germany does not lack for sushi joints, and we talked about some favorite rolls. On that note, we packed it in.

In the morning we had another long, chatty breakfast, though this time each of our neighbors was catching an earlier train, so we had a little extra time to ourselves. We got packed up, and caught a bus to the train station where we had a ride to our last city in Italy – Venice!

Our trains to Sorrento were quite uneventful, with the exception of the Naples to Sorrento leg, which reminded me too much of our train ride to Lagos, Portugal a couple of months back.

The light rail system made about 30 stops or so, while the heat was suppressed only when the train was moving, allowing the wind to push through the opened windows.

We decided to stay in San Agnello, which is actually the town right next to Sorrento. It was about a 20 minute walk from San Agnello to Sorrento – very doable, less busy and more affordable.

We took the time to explore some of streets and saw alot of lemon products being sold. This was no surprise considering the number of lemon groves we saw in the area. We also had a pretty good view of the sea and shoreline from a couple of lookout spots that we came upon. But to be honest, we mainly came to Sorrento to recharge, get our groove back and use the time to figure out what our next plan of action was. Dan had tried several HelpX opportunities and sent out emails to the hosts to volunteer for picking olives, but unfortunately none got back to us, so we were left wondering what to do with our remaining time in Italy.

On one of our days, we decided to take the ferry over to the island of Capri, which in my mind was like Eze, but with upscale shops. As we approached the shoreline, I didn’t realize that the island was so big! Or at least bigger than in my memory.

After disembarking, we noticed the long line-up (and price) of the furnicular, and so opted for the stairs. We certainly got our exercise for the day!

We were pretty tired by the time we got to the top, which didn’t surprise me, since we hadn’t yet eaten and it was pretty warm. We found a nice spot that faced out to the sea, called “Gemma’s Restaurant”, which turned out to be another hit (for me anyways). I had ordered a simple spaghetti dish, made “Gemma’s Style” and it was fantastic. The sauce was tasty and had a lot of the tangy tomato taste that I love.

Once our bellies were full, we strolled through the cobblestone streets and window shopped past Chanel, Gucci, Louie Vuitton and stopped at a very familiar spot. We were actually first lured by the smell of the fresh waffle cones, but as we approached the shop, I recognized it as one of the many gelato places that my Dad had gone to 7 years ago, when we had travelled to Capri with him, Mom & Camille. In fact, I remembered that he had snuck over to that particular spot while the three of us girls stepped into a store across the way. Anyways, this time around I ordered a fragola (strawberry) gelato and it was the perfect dessert. We wandered for a bit more before catching the afternoon ferry back to Sorrento.

I had remembered this place as being beautiful, and it still was in its own right, but after visiting Cinque Terre, I would have to say that I found Cinque Terre more charming.

At any rate, we came here to recharge, get our groove back, and plan our next steps – and that we were very successful in doing. So now, we’ve decided to head back north to Verona for a few days before moving on to Venice.

Our arrival in Rome marked the end of our roadtripping through Italy, and admittedly, I was relieved to have parked the car and put the crazy Italian drivers in the past. We dropped off the car at the airport and took the train in to Roma Termini, which was smart planning on Mom K’s part, because driving in Rome probably would’ve added more stress to the four of us than necessary. From there, we took the folks down into the bowels of the Metro and found our way to Spagna station. We walked for about 15 minutes through the main shopping district, until we came upon Hotel Regno, our home for the next two days. It was beautifully located along Via del Corso and within walking distance to the top historic sites of the city. After getting checked in and unpacked we celebrated our arrival by finishing the bottle of Glenlivet to toast our success, then headed out to follow Rick Steves on his Night Tour of Rome.

We first came upon an Ancient Roman Column, which was cool, until we realized that there’s one at pretty much every piazza. Next we meandered through the tight streets, emerging into Piazza della Rotonda dominated by the Pantheon. A girl was playing guitar by the fountain, and the Pantheon was illuminated by artistic uplighting. The scene was breath-taking, but mom felt the history there most strongly, and was quite moved. Dan and I returned later during the daytime, and found it to be less enchanting, so I would recommend to anyone to visit the Pantheon at night.

After taking in the atmosphere there for some time we moved on to Campo di Fiore, suggested by the guide as a dining location, however the ambiance was a little more hectic so we decided to have dinner elsewhere. We stayed long enough to spectate some live action art and dancing (by two different performers, though a dancing artist might have gotten a Euro from me). Mom requested that we dine with the Pantheon in view, so we did just that, setting up right in Piazza della Rotonda and taking in subtle electricity amongst the crowd. Rome is noticeably lighter and carefree in comparison to other places in Italy – surprising for a big city.

For Mom and Dad’s only (and last) full day in Rome, we woke up early (by Dan & my standards) to eat breakfast and see all we could see. We first walked back towards the Trevi Fountain, and found ourselves in a pretty non-descript church, but what stood out was the beautiful 5 person choir that was practicing in one of the alcoves.

We then walked south along via del Corso and took the elevator to the top of the “Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II” where we got a panoramic view of the city and afterward, we took advantage of the free admission into the museum held inside the monument.

Bottom of Monumento Nazionale

Top of Monumento Nazionale

Apparently Dad is famous

Dan and I happened to fall upon an uncanny bronze bust, so we called Dad over and asked him to pose for us. The resemblance was crazy! Even funnier was that someone else had seen us and took a similar photo, proving that our interpretation was spot on.

We then walked further in a south easterly direction towards the Colliseum and ruins.

In a more residential area, we happened upon what looked like a true Roman army campsite, with pitched tents, war equipment strewn across the park and a large group of soldiers, maidens, drummers and trumpets. It was a pretty cool sight to see as they started to march towards the colisseum. So, we were lucky enough to see them before the other tourists did.

Captain

Camp

Centurion Parade

We then took the metro from the Colliseum to St. Peter’s Basilica, which we were informed was closed on Sundays. But, when we arrived, not only were there people in the square, but there were also people going into the basilica. We managed to get in without any lineups (since it was about 45 minutes until closing time) and quietly admired the mosiac and sculptures as a mass went on. Unfortunately the “closed” part applied to the Museum and to the Sistine Chapel, so while we didn’t have to pay any admissions, we also didn’t get a full tour. We walked back in the direction of ‘home’, passing Castel Sant’Angelo, and stopped for dinner in one of the hundreds of restaurants for our last meal together.

After dinner, we walked over to the Spanish steps to people watch, relax and enjoy the last hours of our evening togehter. We said our goodbyes before we stepped into our rooms for the night, since Mom & Dad K were planning on leaving around 3am to catch their early morning flight. And before we knew it, the chapter of our time spent with the folks concluded.

Rome at night I

Rome at night II

Rome at night III

The following couple of days spent in Rome mainly consisted of sleep, since the parents ran us into the ground, but we did manage to have a nice evening with Phil Louie, a former co-worker from iStockphoto, eating dinner and wandering around the beautiful streets of Rome.

Our last day, we had a casual walk along the river and for the evening, we ate dinner at a restaurant near the colliseum, away from the touristy areas and it was hands down our best meal in Rome. We wished we were able to share that spot with Mom & Dad, since it seemed like one of our most “genuinely Italian” restaurant experiences so far.

We’ve decided to move on to Sorrento for the next three days, mainly to recharge and recalibrate. Onwards to Sorrento.

We spent five nights at La Spiga d’Oro, one of many “agroturismo” farms scattered across Tuscany which host guests in a self-catering style accomodation. Our welcome was authentically Italian. Our host was not in, so we first me his parents, an elderly couple straight out of a cariacature about old-world Tuscan country living, who welcomed us like lost children in an enthusiastic deluge of incomprehensible Italian. “Mama” gave us a tour of our two bedroom suite, pointing out various points of interest as we furiously flipped through our phrasebooks trying to pick out key words. We got most of the message, until her concluding remarks, which we had her write down. As it turned out, we were invited to dinner (which we missed, due to the lag between the message and its later translation).

We were preparing our own dinner when our host, Giancarlo, arrived. He gave us the english version of the tour, translated Mama’s message, and explained about the farm. We had a bottle of their wine, and a jug of their olive oil, compliments of the house. Dad grilled him on his farming practices, and they got into some heavy discussion on the production of oil and wine.

Our time in Tuscany can be characterized mostly by two activities. Exploring the old hill towns dotted about the area, and getting lost on the winding, unmarked roads, both in the country and in various towns. The largest town in our vicinity was Arezzo. A regional capital, in the same vein as Siena and Florence, none of us had heard of it before this visit.

We stopped by town on our first full day, just to stop in at the Tourist Information Center to pick up a region map. Finding the TIC was more work than we expected, and we walked all over town before finally finding one right up at the highest piazza, opposite the main cathedral. We got some good information there, and spent a little longer browsing the shops, and checking out the large park. The map we picked up showed many small towns, as well as interesting stops between towns.

One of those was the Monteccio castle, lying between Arezzo and Cortona. We were going to Cortona anyway, since Mom had a note to check a certain restaurant there, so we stopped by Monteccio to see what it was all about. From the road it looked very impressive. Crowning a hill, rising above the village below, it looked every bit the part of ancient castle. Up close it was less impressive, since it’s basically just a relic, and not used for anything. A perfectly good castle, just sitting up on that hill. Not so much as a signboard to tell you who built it or what it was for. Just a dirt road leading up to a closed door, and barbed wire around the top of the wall.

Cortona was a very nice town, with a spectacular view out over the valley, and all the dark alleys, stone walkways, and private gardens you could want from an ancient medieval town.

Rick Steve’s, in his guidebook, which the folks had brought along, notes it as the “classic Tuscan hill town”. We had dinner at Ristorante La Bucaccia, selected by Mom from the guidebook, and noted for its preparation of Chianina beef – a variety of cow indigenous to the region, and bred for the size and quality of its meat. It wasn’t a cheap dinner, but one steak fed all four of us, and we spent a couple of hours enjoying the food and wine and atmosphere.

We had to visit Florence, both because of mom’s namesake, and its reputation for shopping, art, and history. We took the train from Arezzo, and had a nice (though sleepy) ride in. Fortunately the train station is quite close to the center of town, and we had a fairly easy time doing a walking tour. In the markets dad had a close call with a very nice leather jacket, and despite the persuasive cajouling of the salesman, walked away with wallet unopened. We very much wanted to see the statue of David, though were, as a group, too impatient and cheap to either pay entrance fees or wait in line to see the real thing at Galleria dell’Accademia, preferring instead to find the identical “fake David” which is on display for free elsewhere in town.

We walked by the Galleria, and knew that we had made the right decision when we saw the line, half a block long, sweating it out in the sun. Our tour took us by Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, best known as Duomo di Firenze, which certainly did not fail to impress. The scale, and level of detail, were absolutely impressive.

After marvelling at the Duomo for a short while we circled around to Palazzo della Signoria, where David stood at the door, among other statues. It’s a very nice statue, but I lack the artistic education to understand why so much is made of it, instead of other statues, say, his neighbour – a heavily muscled and bearded gentleman pausing in a moment of reflection just prior to smashing another fellow’s head in with a huge hammer.

Our walk also took us to Ponte Vecchio, lined with jewellery shops, and made famous by lovers engraving locks with their initials and locking them to the rails. Apparently you’re not allowed to do that anymore, since the rail was lock-free and a sign warned of a 160€ penalty for such romances.

At the end of the bridge we stopped for a gelato, and while at the counter witnessed a brawl between one of the aproned staff and a somewhat elderly customer. That sounds like a great story, but it was mostly just confusing. We hussled back to the train station in order to catch the train which would get us home before our parking would expire, and arrived just a few minutes prior to departure. Arriving late to a leaving train means that all the seats that will be taken have been taken, and in this case that meant ALL of them. And then some. We joined the standing travellers, and took seats as they were vacated along the line.

Lucignano, to the west of our home in Foiano della Chiana, is another of the nice little Tuscan hill towns we visited, this time after a very late start. We had kept up a pretty stiff pace, and after rising characteristically early, Dad took a remarkably uncharacteristic 3-hour nap after breakfast. Mom recommended not waking him, I suspect looking forward to a chance to relax by the pool, which is just what we did.

Eventually we did arrive at Lucicgnano, and had a nice private look around. This town seems not to be on the tourist circuit, and was almost completely empty. We stopped by a tour guide office to see if they could recommend any wineries in the area that we might drop by for a free tour, and the very helpful gentleman there made some calls on our behalf. He gave us some directions, mostly based on the local geography (“at the bottom of the valley drive towards the ancient dome”), and after some circling we found Fattoria Santa Vittoria.

Grapes go in, wine comes out

Fattoria Santa Vittoria

Tasting table

There we were given a fantastic tour by Claudio, our guide, and saw some things that I haven’t seen in many wine tours before. As we began, a harvesting machine full of grapes (for the co-op, not for their own house wine – those are picked by hand) rolled in and unloaded into a waiting tractor container. Claudio took us all around the buildings, showing us the equipment they currently use, as well as some of the older pieces, no longer in use. Three massive barrels are still in the cellar, both because they are beautiful, and also because they can’t be removed whole – they were built on the spot, and no door is big enough to get them out. We tasted about half a dozen samples of their product, and made a few purchases.

Our final full day we spent exploring the region south of Foiano della Chiana, intending to locate the Chianini beef farm reputed to be in this area. We had a bit of information, which led us to a closed butcher shop instead of a farm, then in Bettolle asked at another butcher, who marked on our map a likely location.

We circled around his mark for some time without success, and pulled into a hidden dirt road to make a pitstop. Seeing that the dirt road went underneath a bridge, we decided to explore it, and drove right up to a farm concealed behind a wall of round hay bales. Hidden in plain sight. We spent some time checking out the livestock, and cruising around the large estate (also run as an “agroturismo”). We pushed on to Montepulchiano, a place known, apparently, for high class wineries. We walked around town, and found it to be another very nice hill town along the same formula as Cortona, but with even more impressive views. After walking to the top of town we found a nice terrace restaurant with views into the valley and stopped there for a small lunch.

View from Montepulciano

Cellars of Montepulciano

View from Montepulciano II

We spent a little more time shopping during the descent to the car, then drove back to our home, via Valdichiana Outlet Village, where Mom wanted to see what deals could be had. Turns out the best deals were in mens shoes, in my size… how about that.

We returned home and prepared our last meal in Tuscany – pesto ricotta ravioli, foccacia bread, and bococcini salad. We had prepared most of our dinners at home in our kitchen, so this was a nice way to finish.

During our packing I had a private farewell with my old Vans shoes, which had served me well, but will now be replaced with a fancy new pair of Sketchers. In the morning we shared a heartfelt farewell with Mama and our hosts. We had a fantastic time staying with them, and it very much felt like being part of a real Italian family. We’ll now be off to Rome, for some “big city” Italy, and a few of the worlds most famous sites!

Our intention, when heading out from the Cinque Terre region, had been to drive through the day on the speedy Autostrada highway and spend the night in Siena. We had been confused on our way in, due to poor maps, missing signage, and unlabeled roads…

The same problems plagued us on the way out, and we ended up fumbling through an intestinal maze of roads all the way to the port town of La Spezia before finally emerging onto the relatively smooth and straight highway. We had chosen the perfect day to leave, since the weather was heavy, and it rained on us all morning.

We left the rain and the coast behind as we entered Tuscany, and stopped for lunch in Lucca, which bears some distinction for having kept its walled fortification.

Our stop included a walk around the local art market, fully in swing during our arrival, as well as a visit to a fundraising event which involved massive amounts of bread. The bread was being sold by donation, so we picked up a fair number of samples. We took an abbreviated tour of the old town, and city walls. The walls are quite high from the outside, but arranged as parkland from the interior, which makes a large amount of green space available in the form of a circular park around the old town. From Lucca we headed south on a secondary road, not yet having learned our lesson, and thinking to cut a corner out of the main highway which would have directed us toward Firenze (Florence).

The road was much longer than it looked on the map, and despite some pretty spectacular scenery, by the time we arrived in Volterra everyone was in agreement that this was plenty of driving for one day, and we should see about finding something for the night.

Volterra is really old. Massive stone buildings and tight cobbled streets piled themselves up on the top of a hill and were hemmed in by an impressive wall. This wall had several gates, the oldest being Porta dell’Arco, built around 2200 years ago. We arrived around dusk, and they were just wrapping up some sort of classic car rally. the main square was full of classic and vintage cars, with people taking pictures and posing beside favorites.

The Tourist Information Center was already closed, so we were left with the guidebooks we had brought. While we were having a brief break Christina sought out one of the hotels listed in the guide. I waited, and the folks took a last look around the square. Then we waited together, wondering if she had gotten lost, or if something was wrong. We were discussing whether to go looking for her when she came running around the corner, waving at us to come with her. She had found the perfect apartments. Unable to locate the hotel in the guidebook, she had instead rang the bell under a tiny sign advertisng rooms. An old matronly woman had answered and shown her into two very generous apartments, which combined to a total of about 2000 square feet of living space, with a sitting room, kitchen & dining room, two bedrooms, and terrace looking out over the valley. The price for this luxury was 60€ per suite – about the same as a private room in a budget hostel.

Affittacamere Renzi

Sunset from our terrace

Volterra rooftops

We made good use of the kitchen, provisioning ourselves at the local grocer with wine, cheese, veggies, bread, and a few other basics, then setting in to a spectacular meal. If other arrangements were not already awaiting us for our next days it would have been very easy to stay.

In the morning we decided to not dash off too quickly, but to explore town some, and enjoy the area. We walked through the streets, made more lively by open shops and clumps of tourists. The items of most interest were the painted ceramics, though Christina preferred the Portugese style, and the alabaster sculptures. We looked through a few stores, and peeked in a couple of shops where old men were busily carving away on blocks of stone.

We took a break for lunch at a self-service-style restaurant,  La Vecchia Lira, and helped ourselves to one of nearly everything, for a proper taste of the Tuscan cuisine. The last alabaster workshop we visited had a desk on the showroom floor upon which I noticed a business card for Affittacamere Renzi, our accomodation, and made mention that we had spend the night there. The girl at the counter said that the woman renting the rooms is the wife of the old man carving in the workshop below, and that both are businesses of the family. She gifted us with a couple of small items from the shop, to commemorate the happy chance of our visit. This small gesture was very charming, and the perfect note upon which to leave town.

I would very much have liked to take the secondary roads, cutting directly across country to Arezzo, our next stop .Unfortunately we had a little trouble, yet again, with the maps and roads and signs and found ourselves, impossibly, coming full-circle from Poggibonsi to Montevarchi and back again. Faced with attempting the secondary roads again, pretty as they are, or routing through the less interesting primary highway via Siena we selected the less adventurous route, and were on our way in no time. The approach from the south ended up as an advantage, since when we pulled in for directions at Foiano della Chiana it was revealed that this town (about 30 kms from Arezzo itself) was actually much closer to our destination. We took some guidance from a local who was familiar with our host, and in no time at all we arrived at La Spiga d’Oro, our home for the next five nights.

Ahhh, Cinque Terre (the Five Villages), we made our way here from Rapallo. I didn’t know what to expect, but I heard from many folks that this region was beautiful. And rightfuly so. The area was extremely mountanous and the cliffs dropped off right into the Mediterranean sea. The roads were narrow and winding, and we had a great time trying to navigate to our intended destination of Vernazza. At one point we came to an extremely scenic lookout and noticed the village of Vernazza down below us, but not before meandering through dirt roads and nearly finding ourselves on a hiking trail. Dad skillfully backed up and out of the narrow roads before we found a ‘little bit bigger’ road.

Vernazza was a tiny village. You had to park the car a kilometer away in the parking lot and then walk down to the actual village. Since we didn’t have any prior reservations, we walked along the main street and started scanning for ‘Camere’ signs.

The one major hotel with seaviews was completely booked, but we were lucky enough to step into a store full of wine, variants of olive oil, pesto and pasta, in which the owner called a friend of hers, who met us at the store, and took us to her apartment (which was nicely situated away from the crowd and at the edge closest to the road up to the parking lot). We took it, since it was at a reasonable rate and we were feeling hard pressed at finding any other open accomodations. We had a nice lunch on a restaurant patio close to the bay before boarding one of the many boats that ferried passengers to and from each of the five coastal villages.

It was around 5pm, so we thought it would be neat to go to Monterosso al Mare. It was a quick 5 minute boat ride and upon disembarking we saw a couple of little boys fishing off of the harbour’s edge.

Mom K also wanted to find a good spot to enjoy the sunset, so we parked ourselves in front of a tiny gelateria, along a street that was lined with huge canopies of flowers, and enjoyed a few cafes and gelato. We strolled around for a bit before catching our train back to Vernazza for the evening.

The following day, we wanted to make sure we explored the remaining three villages, so we first went by boat to Riomaggiore, which was much larger than Vernazza and not as charming.

We did, however, stop by at a cafe that had some wi-fi, crepes and coffee, before heading towards the next village.

We then walked along the coastline, along the Via dell’Amore, which was lined with padlocks and graffitti left behind by lovestruck couples.

This pathway was the trail that connected Riomaggiore to Manarola.   As luck would have it, we also ran into a couple from Texas, whom we had met and chatted with on our train from Ventimiglia to Milan, about 4 days prior to this random encounter.  We remembered parting jokingly saying, ‘.. .maybe we’ll see you in Cinque Terre…’, since they were heading to Venice first while we were heading up to Meina at that time.  It just goes to show you that the world is sometimes a very small place.

Further along the walkway, there was conveniently placed bar, so we stopped at for refreshments.

Once we arrived in Manarola, we walked down towards the sea, and got a pretty great lookout into the village from the cemetary, of all places.

Out of all the villages, this one looked like it had the perfect harbour to go in for a dip.  Afterwards, we caught a train to the hilltop village of Corniglia – which is the only town that you can’t get to by boat, because it sat atop a steep cliff along the coast, which made it extremely picturesque.

We were lucky enough to catch the last bus from the train station up to the village, otherwise it would have been 378 steps up.

This village was just as tiny as the others and seemed to carry a small selection of restaurants, so we settled in for dinner in a garden patio and enjoyed the cuisine and ambience, complete with two cute cats roaming around each table hoping for someone to accidently drop a crumb or two.

We had some time before our next train, so we took our time going down the 378 steps. About halfway down, we decided to break open one of the two bottles of wine we had been toting around, since we figured we still had an hour or so. We broke open the bottle, chatted for about 10 minutes and then from our lookout noticed a train slowing down and stopping at one of the platforms below us. Confused, I pulled out our copy of the train schedule, looked at the train, looked at everyone, looked at the train again and said, ‘Uh oh’. The time that I was initially looking at was for the train heading in the OPPOSITE direction. So, we hunkered down, drank some more, talked some more and 1.5 hours later, boarded the last train out of Corniglia back to our home in Vernazza.

We’ve spent the past several days travelling with my folks, visiting from Kelowna for the first part of our stay in Italy. We met them, after some tribulation, in Meina, a small town somewhat north of Milan. Christina and I had departed from Nice early in the morning. We caught a commuter train to Ventimille, or Ventimiglia, in Italy, where we transfered to a high(er)-speed train to Milan. We shared our 6-seat berth with an American couple from California/Texas, Chris and Richard, with whom we chatted for the duration of the 5 hour ride. In Milan we changed to a slow train bound for Stresa, overshooting our actual destination by a couple of minor stops, then backtracked on a super slow train packed with school children. I was keen to play out our agreed upon plan to wait for the folks at the station, but there was absolutely nothing there, so after an hour or so we walked down to the B&B and checked ourselves in. Another hour later they pulled in, after a much longer day on the road than anticipated, in conjunction with numerous other trials strewn along their past couple of days. We had a nice dinner in the nearby town of Arona and caught up on each others most recent adventures.

Meina, Dormolletto, Como: One of dad’s numerous interests and hobbies is horses. He has a few, and has toyed with breeding, and one of his animals claims the famous race horse Ribot as her great-grand-sire. Ribot was bred in the nearby town of Dormelletto by Frederico Tesio, making the area an interesting one for dad, so we went to try and check out the area. After some searching we located the park containing the horse paddocks and private farms which are the ancestors of the original breeding farm in this area.

We walked the numerous paths between fields and farms, and generally enjoyed our time in the park.

There was no big sign reading “Tasio Lived Here” or anything, but the name was familiar to the locals we encountered, who were happy to try and communicate with us, despite some linguistic impedences. We met a couple of ladies who were particularly keen to show us around, and took us to a specific field which housed a zebra, in addition to a few regular horses. Not sure how he slipped in there, but it was a neat find.

We returned to the lakefront boardwalk in Arona for a picnic lunch of some cheese and bread and olives that we had picked up in the morning, then felt ambitious enough to take a run at Lake Como.

It’s not close. Especially when you keep to the backroads, and most especially when you don’t find your way the first time… or the second time. After a significant amount of driving around we did finally arrive in Como, the town at the south-westerly end of the lake. We took a short walk around, and headed up the funicular to check out the view over town and the lake. We found a spectacular sunset, looking over the mountains to the north, all the way to Switzerland.

Lake Como

Sunset over Lake Como

Sunset view into Switzerland

We spent more time ogling the view than intended, and it was fully dark by the time we arrived at the bottom again. We had a nice dinner of simple pasta in the square of Como’s walled old town, near where we had parked, then hopped in the car to leave. The tangle of one-way streets, and closed entry ways had us thinking that we might never find our way out, but eventually we made our escape. We made a couple of wrong turns yet again on our way home, which provided us with an irritable tour of Verese before we finally concluded our day. We were all quite ready for a drink of the 15-year Glenlivet that dad had brough by the time we arrived at home.

Stresa, Genova, Rapallo: Being so close to some interesting areas, and not wanting to rush off before having seen more of the area, we visited Stresa. We had time for either an island tour of some of the floating palaces of Lake Maggiore, or the view from the top via another funicular ascending the peaks to Mottarone. We were all inclined towards the island tour, but the “boat captain” character who approached us in the parking lot became quite snippy when we deliberated over our options a little longer than he would have liked, and his attitude (as well as the price) soured us on the idea. We decided to give ourselves the alpine tour, and drove to the top of the mountains, which was not as fast as the cable-car, but probably a lot more fun. Dad had a blast on the incredibly steep and windy roads – I’m certain that there were a few blind hairpins that had us all hanging on to our seats!

Taking pictures of Switzerland

Old fence posts at the top

View of The Alps

The view from the top was very much worth the trip. Beyond just the lake, you could see for probably hundreds of miles in any direction. Most impressive were the Swiss moutain ranges, rising dramatically against the blue sky. A ski hill during the winter, the hilltop winter activity is a bobsled-on-rails ride that we thought about trying, but upon reflection decided that the ride down would likely be more thrilling anyway, so didn’t bother.

We took the “autostrada” toll highway to Genova instead of the free secondary roads. Despite posted speed limit signs, vehicles roared down the highway at anything up to 180 km/h, so eating up the miles is no trouble at all.

Genova was a historic, but not very charming, stop to make. We used the Tourist Info Center to book our nights accomodation a short way out of town, in Rapallo, then took a few hours to explore. We saw a flag throwing demostration, a bicycle-powered concert, a gang of (what I can only assume to be authentic) nuns, a naval warship, and the inside of several cups of coffee. After our quick tour none of us were dissapointed to be moving on, though there’s a lot more to see, Genova certainly has a “big city” feel to it.

Genova old town

Nuns in Genova

Ship in harbour

We took the autostrada once again to make good time to Rapallo, and found ourselves in a very nice little apartment perfectly suited to our needs. It was already evening, so we unpacked and had a walk down the boardwalk, stopping for dinner at a seafood restaurant. Dad and I shared a large dish of fish – expertly dissassembled at our table – while mom had a caprese salad, and Christina tried the lobster spaghetti.

After another long day we needed another slurp of whisky, and enjoyed that in the cool evening on our patio. What goes better with whisky than oranges?

It just so happened that the neighboring yard had a nice big orange tree, so mom and dad decided that a sample was in order.

Rapallo seems like a very nice little town, worthy of a little more time, but we’re on a tight schedule. Next stop, Cinque Terre!