Let's Talk Venice!

An all-day train trip brought us into Venice after dark. However, they left the lights on for us and we drank in the familiar row-house views along the Grand Canal. Marco, our property manager met us at the Rialto Bridge and navigated us to our new home for the week. We had the first floor (which would be our second floor) apartment of a home tucked around the corner of busy little district. Perfect place. We dropped off our bags and decided to leg it for a couple of hours. Venice is said to be one of the very safe cities in the world. Except for a few bars and restaurants, Venice says Buona Notte about at 7PM!

Good sleep in our new digs and we threw open the bold green shutters and let Venice inside while we breakfasted. Typical hurried Italian chatter floated in from the street below. We were ready to take on the day. A visit to the Doges Palace and Saint Mark’s Cathedral were the day’s highlights. Of course we made time for a couple of bakery (sadly disappointing) and gelato (most enjoyable) stops every day.

We are very much “off the beaten path” kinds of people always in search for the traditional, local and the unusual. I’m not sure we discovered the unusual elements of Venice. Blazing in for a day is certainly much different than vacationing for a week. We didn’t find the Venetians to be wonderful hosts... much like the feeling we sensed in Rome two years ago. They didn’t seem to care whether we ate in their restaurants, bellied up to their bars for coffee, or purchased any of their products. For the most part, we found the locals to be quite unfriendly. Clearly, we must have been sporting “American Tourist” in neon letters flashing on our foreheads!

One day trip took us to Verona….. home to the virtually intact Roman arena. So intact that it still hosts operas and concerts etc. today. It seats upwards of 20,000 people. A trip up to the top of the bell tower gave us incredible views of the city and surrounding areas. At Madison’s request we hunted down the home of Juliet and of course the famous balcony. Scores of people were lining up to the bronze statue to rub Juliet’s right breast for good luck. Go figure? Inside the house, there are several computers where one can write letters to Juliet… letters have been left for her since the 30s. Just like the movie, they are now answered by local ladies as part of the Club di Giulietta. I believe around 5000 letters are received each year…… so much emphasis on a fictitious figure.

Another day trip took us on the vaporetti to the islands of Murano and Burano in the Venice Lagoon. Murano, of course, is home to glass blowing artisans and Burano, the home to lace makers. Having seen a piece two years ago that we didn’t purchase, I was on a mission to find the same piece and snatch it up this time. We did!!

Burano was a new place for us….. it’s a small island and bright coloured, perfectly painted homes are situated along both sides of the canal. It made us happy! It was almost 7PM when we got there and so the shops were starting to close. We walked around the entire island before catching the vaporetti back to Venice.

Our last days in Venice were spent visiting museums, churches and the less touristy area called the Jewish Ghetto. Jews were forced to live in this area (contained by two gates manned by guards - paid for by the Jews to protect them) of an abandoned iron foundry site from the 16th to 18th century. Napoleon freed them he conquered Venice and they were allowed to live anywhere in the city. It's a beautiful square and one of the more noticeable things is that their homes are significantly taller than other Venetian buildings.

Italian Riviera

Lugging suitcases in the rain to the station, Oh Boy! Lugging suitcases up and down stairs in the station to the right platform… serious insult to all the muscle groups!

We had a 1-hour reprieve from baggage handling during the trip from Nice to Ventimiglia

before a repeat performance of the luggage/stairs ordeal.

There was no shortage of storage space from Ventimiglia to Milano until …. let’s just call him Stinky….. Stinky joined us in our cabin. He struggled in with his oversized case and his equally overwhelming body odor. The one redeeming factor was that he hadn’t collided his BO with an obnoxious cologne as some of the Europeans seem to do. That’s messed up!

Milano to La Spezia….uneventful but arriving at dusk and in a torrential downpour = not too pleasant. Thankfully, our hotel was only 50 metres from the station. Just as the reviews insisted, it was not a noisy night.

Winston thought we should maximize the few remaining hours of the evening and “quickly bus out to Porto Venere”. Assuming the Italian bus system operated as the French system, we jumped on the bus and tried to buy tickets from the driver. Our 1 euro per person immediately jumped to 4 euros per person given the fines….one way! Apparently, tickets can only be purchased from a tobacco shop and validated on the bus! Who knew…. go figure? An hour later, we are told we’ve arrived in Porto Venere. We jump off the bus…. a wee little man drags us to a kiosk and gets us return tickets. After looking both directions and seeing a hunking load of nothing, we jump back on the bus for the hour ride to the hotel. Consequently, we turned the tickets into an “L” shape and made WT wear the “Loser” mark slapped on his forehead ~ penance for the most unfun adventure! All was forgiven over a bowl of freshly homemade, spinach/ricotta stuffed raviolis with browned butter! Now we’re talkin’!

Train ticket good for a day and we’re off to Cinque Terre (pronounced Chink-way Tay-reh - and means five lands). We made a new friend over breakfast… April from Melbourne and together we set off on an explore. I could hardly wait. Bruce, whom Winston met on a flight last spring had long since whet my appetite with his writings of visits to far away places including Cinque Terre. Through his eyes, I had been transported… today the sights, smells, tastes and glory would be all my own.

Toting brollies for the drizzle, we set our sights on Riomaggiore, the first village. Brightly coloured homes greeted us as well as a steep incline main street into the town. These lovely hamlets are etched into the cliffs of the Italian Riviera coastline. Though visually similar, each has its own unique difference. In spite of the mist and rain, we were able to capture snippets of splendor although digital vignettes cannot possibly do justice to this other world.

An 8-minute walk along the “easy” path (AKA “the walkway of love” where couples before left locks along the railings or unique places signifying their undying love for each other) yielded fantastic vistas of the Mediterranean and sneak peeks of the town ahead. The azure blue below slapped at the massive slabs of granite and my soul was fed. Next stop = picturesque Manarola. Much the same as Riomaggiore, Manarola just appeared more quaint and stand-out gorgeous. We hopped the train to Vernazza skipping the little town of Corniglia and its 400 steps leading up into the main street. Vernazza has been etched in my mind from paintings created by Cao Yong… a must-have piece one of these days particularly now that it’s become a part of us. Its perfect cove and brightly coloured houses studded into the cliffside just took my breath away and I was lost in time. There really aren’t words descriptive enough.. or rather I’m just limited in my vocabulary to aptly describe the wonder of this area. Winston had to pry my fingers off the railing to leave for the last town Monterosso. This is the largest and more touristy of all the towns and though lovely, seemed unmatched to Vernazza.

We arrived in La Spezia early enough for Winston to give Porto Venere another chance. We were so glad we did. Just around the corner from where the bus had dropped us off the night before, was a beautiful marina village. We camped out at a little coffee shop and basically watched the Italian world go by.

After such a wonderful day, we took April for dinner at cute little Pepe’s restaurant…. where again, the pasta is on-the-spot homemade. Spinach and ricotta raviolis in a light walnut butter sauce had me in heaven for the duration of the meal! I forgot to mention that this Ligurian region is best known for being the “birth place” to pesto and fococcia. Bellies stuffed with awesome goodness and spirits on overload with God’s incredible creation, we slept peacefully and enriched.

Instant Recall

Wow! Seven full days in review! Are you sure you are up for this? I can be tediously detailed but I'll try to recap the past week's activities as concisely as I can.

New Year's Day kept us local particularly since we slept most of the morning away. We opted to climb the bazillion steps to Colline du Chateau (Castle hill) located near the harbour and Old Nice. Cobbley stone steps are sandwiched between pine trees, cacti, and flowering plants. Amazing vistas of the Mediterranean and the city of Nice greeted us with every step. Medieval ruins, a city park and a waterfall we'd read to be stunning is part of the appeal even for locals. Unfortunately, the waterfall was out of commission but the 360 views more than made up for that.

According to Madison's pedometer, we logged in 14,000 steps that day. Time to reward ourselves with a stop off at the Haagen Daz cafe! A caramel and banana ice cream crepe and a mocha ice cream waffle didn't bring the 20 euro joy we thought it should have so we hit our favourite patisserie for alternate sugar options. I know you are thinking that we've spent equal time face-planting ourselves into French bakeries, chocolate shops, and cafes as we have historical visits.... and it's entirely correct! :)

Another train trip to Monaco with the plan to hike up to the palace... so glad we did. I found my next house not too far from the palace itself!! Again, stunning vistas of both the Mediterranean and the principality of Monaco just continue to perpetuate a sense of awe. Michael and Madison thought a visit to Prince Rainier's aquarium was in order so we did. Madison and I did a quick visit to the zoo while Michael and Winston opted to pay homage to the prince's car collection.

The quaint little village of La Turbie is worth noting. It's nestled high above Monaco (wicked narrow roads and hairpin turns) and is home to La Trophie des Alpes a monument built by Emperor Julius Caesar Augustus to celebrate his victory over the Ligurian people living in the mountains and the entire region actually.

We spent 'the last supper' with new friends Matt and Julie Hessel at La Pizza....home to the only pizza in Nice worth eating! Matt and Julie introduced themselves at the Christmas Eve church we visited and it was one of those God-instant connections. I love how when we ask God to "order our steps", He does and He intersects us with right people in right moments.

As in any relationship, breaking up with Nice was difficult but just had to be done because another love affair was waiting just around the corner. Every day of this trip, for me, has been all about embracing another wonder. MUST.COME.BACK.

New Years Eve!

Dinner : Gorgonzola pillows (can't remember the Italian name for them and salad = yummy!

Dessert: Tarte aux pomme avec creme anglaise = divine!

Midnight: Champagne cups = horrid!

Midnight: Prayer = awesome!

To Market to Market!

New Year's Eve morning. Up at the unGodly (according to Michael) hour of 9:00, we legged it to the bus station, caught the #100 express bus to Monaco, schlepped across the street to the train station and 20 mins later we arrived back in Ventimiglia, Italy. Market day stretches for several blocks along the promenade where the Mediterranean attempted to lap our heels and draw us in. We are mesmerized by the azure blue ripples. The cheap cashmere clothing, designer knock off bags, luggage and shoes didn't appeal but the foodie section most definitely did. Sample tastes of salamis and cheeses caused us to empty our pockets for stray euros. Opting not to calculate the US exchange rate, we stuffed our wedges in our sack and hurried off in search of fresh pasta. Armed with little white pillows stuffed with gorgonzola, perfect strands of linguine and a jar of local freshly-made, garlicky pesto, we thought we'd won the lottery!

A little over-rouged Grandma pulled me into her booth and told me in excited Italian all about her winery and resulting wines. Grandpa jumped up with an English interpretation and a glass of one of their superior wines. Yum..... the 2004 Barbera grape from Asti worked for me. Skip the champagne, I'm popping a red one for NY's Eve.

Next stop.... Illo and another shared mug of to-die-for hot chocolate. He hugged us like family and began mixing his potion before we'd ordered.... he also popped on his videos and subjected us to 5 more new clips! Thirty minutes later found us retracing our train and bus steps back to Nice.