tag:www.slowtrav.com,2011:/blog/kaydee//9 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z Kathy, Charley and daughter Kelly spend 14 months traveling and living in Europe Movable Type 3.33 tag:www.slowtrav.com,2006:/blog/kaydee//9.945 2006-04-27T13:03:34Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

On June 11, 2004, our family of three embarked on a 14-month adventure that we called "Our Grand Tour of Europe." At ages 59 and 48-- and after several vacation trips to Europe-- Charley and I found ourselves wanting a...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com Some background information about our trip (a letter to friends) A list of all the entries, by week (start at the bottom and work up) Photo albums from our trip (this is still a work-in-progress) Much to our surprise, over the past two years many other people from all over the world have somehow found their way to this website. Several of them have even taken the time to write us, and we are always glad to answer questions or provide help to others who may be considering a similar trip. You can contact us at woodfamily@ourgrandtour.com. We especially want to recognize the support of Pauline Kenny, the founder of www.slowtrav.com. Pauline set up this website and hosts it on Slow Travel. She has become a good friend. We also want to recognize the support and friendship of so many others in the truly remarkable Slow Travel community, many of whom we met during our trip and since we've been home. We have been so encouraged by the interest in our family's adventure. We hope our story is an inspiration to others to follow their dreams, whatever they may be. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2006:/blog/kaydee//9.943 2006-04-21T19:55:57Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

Photos from the second week of our two-week Alpine Pass walk in Switzerland are posted beginning here. Although bad weather altered our plans in the early part of the week, we finished the 100-mile Alpine Pass Walk in beautiful weather,...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com here. Although bad weather altered our plans in the early part of the week, we finished the 100-mile Alpine Pass Walk in beautiful weather, enjoying the spectacular alpine scenery. We spent the last night of the walk in the small village of Saanen, and then took the Golden Pass scenic train to Lake Geneva for one final night in the international city of Geneva. And then it was home to the USA after 14 months. Saturday, August 6 (Rest day in Kandersteg) Today is a rest day and we like having another day at the Hotel Bernerhof. It’s the third rest day of the trip, but the first one that we haven’t had to do part of the walk. We didn’t set the alarm, but still made it down in time for breakfast. We sat with Al, as usual. We decided to have a very laid-back day—especially Charley, who had such a long, hard day yesterday. I think I made the right decision yesterday, since my knee didn’t really hurt today at all. We saw the German couple in the restaurant at breakfast... they had ended up at this hotel too. It has been fun running into the same people at various places along the route, just as we had on the Coast-to-Coast walk in England last summer. The German couple had checked the weather and heard that bad weather was coming in. They were thinking about ending their walk now and heading back to Germany a day early. We decided not to worry too much about the weather—one of our mottos on this trip is “it is what it is.” We’ll worry about the weather—and potentially an alternate plan—tomorrow morning. We poked around in our room and then went for a walk around Kandersteg. We looked in all the various shops and bought a couple of things. I found a reasonably-priced book on the wildflowers of Switzerland, something I’d been looking for. We had lunch and a couple of big beers at an outdoor restaurant. A big tabby cat joined us, and Kelly fed it some bread. We passed Al—also enjoying lunch on an outdoor terrace, listening to his music and reading a book—when we walked back to the hotel. He was also taking a day off.]]> Sunday, August 7 (Kandersteg to Adelboden) It was raining when we woke up this morning. We turned on the television and tried to follow the weather reports from the various mountain tops. We couldn’t quite figure out the German, but it was obvious that there was no visibility at the higher elevations. We sat with Phil and Kris at breakfast and talked with the hotel owners, a husband and wife who spoke very good English. Phil said Al had already been down to breakfast and was trying to decide what he would do today. The hotel owners told us it was snowing on the top of the mountain we were supposed cross today, and they advised us strongly to take a lower route or a bus to Adelboden. Our Sherpa notes told us not to attempt a crossing in poor conditions. While we were sitting in the lobby deliberating, a group of English-speaking hikers was assembling in their raingear, hiking with a guide. They were apparently going up over Hotürli, the reverse of the route Charley and Al had done yesterday. Some of the people looked very apprehensive, but they set out on their route. We waited for Al and even called up to his room, but it seemed he had already left. Maybe he didn’t want to get caught up in our more cautious deliberations. Our family thought we would follow the lead of Kris and Phil, who had more experience hiking in Switzerland. We finally decided that we would hike a valley route to the town of Frutigen (which Kelly and I had gone through on our bus ride to Kandersteg two days ago) where we would catch a bus up the next valley to Adelboden. We could have tried to walk the entire way to Adelboden on a lower route, but it was very long and not recommended by Sherpa. The five of us set off in full raingear in a light rain, first along the road and then along a trail by the River Kander. Kelly was using her new gaiters again, and I had my dorky rainhat. It wasn’t a very interesting walk, but the rain wasn’t too heavy and we were able to talk in small groups while we walked. I took off my rain hat as soon as the heavier rain stopped. We made good time. I struggle on the steep uphill sections, but I do shine on level or gradual terrain, especially with the walking poles to get my rhythm going. What they call “nordic walking” (using the poles) has really developed as a form of aerobic exercise. Today I had to slow myself a bit to walk with the others. My knee problems have totally disappeared. We got to Frutigen maybe three hours later, taking a route that took us by the ruins of an old castle perched up on a hilltop, through a little residential neighborhood, and finally along the highway. Frutigen is a busy town with some industry and a large train station. We talked about trying to walk further, but the options all required a fair amount of additional walking. We only had to wait a few minutes for the bus and then we were on our way up to Adelboden at the end of the valley. Our bus arrived at a busy terminal at the top of the village, and we walked just a block or two to our hotel, the Adler Sporthotel. We arrived in Adelboden early in the afternoon. Our luggage hadn’t arrived yet (it is actually transported on the Swiss rail system), and our rooms weren’t quite ready, but the friendly desk clerk offered us hot tea and coffee in the lobby. We took a quick tour of the sports facilities—whirlpool baths, a sauna, some special footbaths and some other treatment areas. There was also a indoor play area for smaller kids. Then we were told our room was ready, so we headed upstairs to hang our wet clothes to dry. Our room was typical Swiss—lots of wood and fluffy white comforters. We relaxed in the room, watching television (an interesting show in English about a Welsh opera singer), snacking on some fruit we had packed for today’s walk, and enjoying the view out our window while the day turned a lot more pleasant. We wondered how Al was doing on his hike over the Bunderchrinde, potentially in the snow. The weather had cleared (though it was still fairly cool), so we decided to walk around and see something of Adelboden. It’s a very clean village with lots of alpine-style hotels and shops on an attractive main street bedecked with flowers. Many of the shops sell hiking and skiing clothes. Kelly and I browsed in a few of the shops—there were some nice things, but we don’t need any more hiking clothes with just a few days left in our walk. As usual, we had dinner with Al, Kris and Phil. Al reported on his day’s hike. He did see some snow, and he ended up stopping at a small mountain farmhouse to buy some hot chocolate. He said it was quite cold. It’s probably good that we didn’t do the mountain pass today, but I hated to miss another part of the walk. Now we have a reason to come back and do it again… hopefully in better weather. The Adler hotel has an attractive and busy dining room with several different eating areas. Our meal was very good—actually, all our meals on this trip have been very good! And we’ve enjoyed having three friends to hike and eat with. Monday, August 8 (Adelboden to Lenk) We had breakfast at the hotel with Al, Kris and Phil. This hotel has a more substantial breakfast buffet that even included eggs and a very wiggly type of bacon. There were some choices about today’s route to Lenk. Our family decided to take the direct route up over the Hahnenmoospass (6417 feet), but Al, Kris and Phil thought they would do an alternate route by a waterfall. That route potentially involved another 2-1/2 hours, so we thought we’d pass on that. Today’s route “only” involved an altitude gain of 2913 feet, since we started the day fairly high up. We hiked through Adelboden and then took a path between two rivers. A gondola traveled not far from us, moving visitors from Adelboden to the mountain/ski areas beyond the village. From the gondola station we followed a road up to a major ski center, which becomes a hiking center in the warmer months. There was a long twisty road up the hill to the pass, and we saw quite a few other hikers. We have seen lots of cows and goats in Switzerland, but today our route took us through a farm with a pig sty right next to the trail—complete with several oinking and very muddy pigs. We were back to beautiful weather again today—amazing how much things can change in just 24 hours. We all hiked in shorts today, and by mid-morning, we didn’t need our sweatshirts and just hiked in short-sleeves. I got some great photos today too. It was such a gorgeous day that when we reached the Hahnenmoospass, we decided to take a break and have lunch at the inn. We sat outside in the sun and enjoyed the view. There’s a model airplane center next to the inn, and we enjoyed watching the little planes flying overhead. The trails are so well defined in Switzerland—sometimes they are even paved! And everything is so well signed that it seems almost impossible to get lost. At any place where two trails cross, there’s a bright yellow sign pointing the way to various villages and passes and giving the distance in hours. Many of the trails also have yellow flashes painted on rocks and trees. We have never struggled with directions on this walk…. never really been confused for even a minute. This hasn’t always been true in England and France where we have sometimes gone in circles looking for the trail and even gotten lost. The hiking infrastructure in Switzerland is the best we’ve experienced. Now if it weren’t for these darn high mountains! From the top of the Hahnenmoospass, a gravel path headed down toward a beautiful valley and the village of Lenk. There were pretty wildflowers and of course those beautiful views of snowcapped mountains. The scenery has shifted since our days back around Grindelwald and Lauterbrunnen. It’s still intensely beautiful, but more open somehow, the mountains more approachable. The walk down was very pleasant. We saw several hang gliders lazily sailing down the mountains toward Lenk. We are staying at the Hotel Krone, right in the center of the village, looking back over a large plaza. The hang gliders were actually landing in a field just beyond our hotel. We could watch them land from our balcony. Our room is very large—actually kind of a studio apartment with a living area, dining table and a fully-equipped kitchen. Charley used the kitchen counter as his luggage rack. We made very good time today and arrived while the afternoon was still glorious. We went outside to the hotel terrace on the plaza and ordered cold drinks. We relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful surroundings. Al came out and joined us, and then Kris and Phil passed by and joined us—they had just finished their hike in from the waterfall route. Kris was wearing the red scarf that we gave her… using it as kind of a kerchief on her hair. Kelly was really pleased that Kris was wearing our gift, and we took a couple of photos. We enjoyed another round of beers out in the sunshine and made plans to meet again at dinner. We had yet another good meal. After dinner Chris and Kelly played a couple games of ping pong at the hotel. It was good of Chris to play with her. Tuesday, August 9 (Lenk to Saanan) We met the others for breakfast, a little sad that this is our last day of walking. Charley went to a nearby shop and bought a few things for lunch on the trail, and our family ended up the last of our group to leave the hotel. We watched as the hotel porter loaded our bags onto a luggage trolley and took them the two blocks to the train station. I’m very impressed that the baggage system works so well, but then perhaps this is another example of the famous Swiss efficiency. The route out of Lenk went straight up the next mountain, passing through a small ski area with woodcarved, larger-than-life heads of several men who had been key in the founding of the ski area. At one point, the path was lined with wild raspberry bushes—Kelly and I both picked and snacked as we walked. Our route then passed through somewhat isolated terrain, but it was another perfect day. As soon as we were out of the woods, we peeled off our heavier shirts and hiked in our shirt-sleeves. I wore my cropped hiking pants and tank top that I got in Germany—an opportunity to work on my tan. At one point as we headed up the mountain toward today’s pass (the Trüttlisberg Pass at 6686 feet—“only” 3182 feet of altitude gain today!), we passed a small farmhouse that didn’t appear to have electricity. The man and his wife were both doing chores as we passed by. (She was beating the rugs.) The walked right by their outdoor pump and water trough (fresh spring water), and I noticed they were using the trough as a cooler… as their refrigerator. It must be a very primitive life back in the hills, dealing with issues many of us never think about. We made good time up to the pass, although it was a bit of a tough climb. Two men were hiking near us and having a difficult time. This is awful, but I always like to see that someone else has a hard time going up and that I’m not the only one! There really wasn’t anything at the pass—no restaurant like we’re used to—just a signpost, a crossroads of several trails, and our path continuing down the other side. The largest mountain in the area is the Wildstrubel (10,640 feet), surrounded by other mountains and even some glaciers. There was a field of tall distinctive wildflowers though (I later identified these in my wildflower book as “great yellow gentians”), and we sat on a big rock to enjoy a break and our picnic lunch of fruit and candy bars. Then we began our final trek down our last mountain of the walk. It was a very pleasurable walk with the beautiful mountain vistas and little farm buildings here and there. The entire walk today was less than six hours. We had a copy of the bus schedule from Lauenen to Gstaad, and we hustled the last few miles, anxious not to miss the next bus and end up waiting an hour in Launen. We came down into Lauenen between two buildings and found ourselves on the main road and actually right by the bus stop. Several other hikers were waiting, and the bus arrived in less than five minutes. We climbed on board and headed to the back—and there were our two friends Kris and Phil smiling and greeting us. They had somehow boarded the bus at the previous stop. We took the bus just a short way to the train station in Gstaad (the famous ski resort), where we bought train tickets to Saanen, just one stop down the line. When we got on the train, there was our other friend Al! So our little group finished the trip together. I have to say that it seemed a bit strange to end our 100 mile walk this way. There was no grand finale like our Coast-to-Coast walk… no touching the North Sea, no reaching a monumental finishing point. Our walk ended abruptly at the bus stop in Lauenen, and then we had to take a bus and a train to get to our accommodation for the night. But we had a real feeling of accomplishment, as the walk was much more challenging than we had expected, mainly due to the elevation we had to ascend (and descend) each day. And it was a real positive that we finished the walk with two beautiful days and that we’d made three good friends who made the experience even more enjoyable. Saanen is a simple village, pretty, with a different character than the other places we’ve been. Our room at the Hotel Landhaus is very large, actually one of the biggest we’ve had. We weren’t quite sure what to expect at the hotel, since the Sherpa notes made a point of apologizing about “the smell of cats on the landings.” We didn’t notice any smell or see any cats—though the woman at the desk did have a dog. She was very friendly too. We unloaded our packs and headed back downstairs to the tables on the street for a celebratory beer. Soon we were joined by Al and then Kris and Phil. We were all in upbeat moods at the end of the walk, already thinking about our next day’s travel plans and our lives back at home. As we sat at the sidewalk table in Switzerland, drinking beer with our British friends, we realized that this was just about the end of our 14 months in Europe. In just two days we would be back at home in Knoxville, Tennessee in the U.S.A. Charley, Kelly and I walked back over to the train station to make our arrangements for tomorrow. One of the things we didn’t end up being able to do on this trip was ride on one of the scenic trains in Switzerland, something Charley especially had really hoped to do. I realized that we could take a Golden Pass train (a train with special panoramic cars with big windows) from Saanen to Montreux and see some of the beautiful mountains and countryside on the way to Geneva. Although the full Golden Pass route starts at Interlaken, we would at least get to experience the last half of it—and we had basically walked the first half! Our 50% cards gave us a nice discount and Kelly’s ticket was free, so we decided to end our trip in style and even upgraded to first class tickets for just a bit more. Later that evening we had our farewell dinner with Al, Kris and Phil. The small hotel restaurant seemed mainly filled with local people, but we were shown to a table around on the side, and were delighted with a great four course meal, surprisingly one of the best we’d had in a trip of many great meals. Our waiter was very friendly and spoke good English. He told us that Saanen is right on the edge of the German-speaking part of Switzerland, and that the very next village is a French-speaking village. We will actually spend our last night in Geneva… appropriate to spend the night in a French-speaking city since over half of our trip has been in France. We said goodnight—and goodbye—to Kris and Phil. They have a very early departure in the morning. We made plans to have a final breakfast with Al, who has been with us since really the beginning of the Alpine Pass Walk. Al’s room is next to ours, and there's a pool table on the big landing outside our rooms. Al played a couple of games of pool with Kelly, and then we said our final goodnight. Wednesday, August 10 (Saanen to Geneva) We met Al for breakfast before he began his journey back home to England. He has been such a good friend on this trip, and I definitely admire him for doing a walk like this—his very first—on his own. Then he was off to catch his train. We had an hour or two before our own train and read in our room, passing the time. We carried our bags downstairs. The woman at the desk asked if we needed a ride to the station… funny since it was two blocks at most. We said no thanks, but then asked if she could take our photo outside. This would be the last family photo of our 14-month Grand Tour. I’m sure I waved the camera and pointed to it. She hopped up and said something (we thought she said “just a minute,”) and went outside to wait for her. To our surprise she drove up with a station wagon—ready to give us a ride to the station. What could we say? We loaded our bags into the back of her car, then asked her to take our photo in front of the hotel. The ride to the station took two minutes at most… or maybe just one! The Golden Pass train to Montreux was fun and scenic—about an hour and a half trip. The train wasn’t crowded and we made a few stops along the way. Finally we approached Lake Geneva, and the train started to make a fairly steep descent, zigzagging down the hillside to Montreux. In all, the train descended over 2500 feet during the trip. The view across the lake was just beautiful, especially the mountains on the other shore. We changed trains in Montreux, waiting just a few minutes, and then we were headed to the final stop of our trip: Geneva. The route took us along the side of the lake, passing through the terraced vineyards of the Lavaux, where we had spent the night in the village of Cully during our trip from Provence to Bavaria in April. We passed through Lausanne and finally arrived at the busy station in Geneva, our first time in this city. It was still very early in the afternoon, so we had several hours to explore. We took a cab from the train station to our hotel near the older part of the city. I hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of money on a hotel in Geneva. We really just needed a place to sleep, but I didn’t want to be at a chain hotel and did want to be near the most historic area. I ended up making a reservation at the Hotel Bel’Espérance, which is actually owned by the Salvation Army (headquartered in Geneva), though open to the public. We had to ride upstairs in the little elevator one at a time. Our room is a matchbox—well, two adjoining matchboxes, since we have a teeny-tiny suite. Fortunately we have a balcony that helps alleviate a bit of the claustrophobia we would otherwise feel. The beds take up… oh, about 80% of the floor space and when we put our suitcases on the floor, there is almost no place to put your feet. On the very top floor of the hotel there’s a pretty terrace with tables where we could see all the way to the lake (and the famous fountain in the lake called the Jet d’eau). And the hotel is clean and the staff is friendly. After all, I really just wanted a place to sleep, right? We headed out to see something of Geneva, but our hearts weren’t quite in it. Yesterday we were hiking in the mountains of the Berner Oberland in the great outdoors, looking at muddy pigs… today we are in large, cosmopolitan international city—the second seat of the United Nations, the home of the Red Cross. I was having a hard time adjusting. It was also a big change to be back in a French-speaking city again… especially for just one day. We strolled down to the lake and looked at a beautiful floral clock. And we took lots of photos of painted cows that are now everywhere in Geneva, just as the painted lions had taken over Munich when we were there a few weeks ago. There was some kind of carnival down on the lakefront; we decided we didn’t want to get involved with the crowds there and looked instead for a place to get something to eat. We decided to have a late lunch/early dinner. We ended up eating at an outdoor restaurant on an attractive square. The prices were high, though the food was good. Kelly tried to order the Swiss soft drink she’d been drinking on the walk (a Rivella Rotte), but she ordered it in French (a Rivella Rouge). The waiter gave us a look, but we said it was fine. He ended up bringing her a glass of red wine, which was terribly funny. We would have let her drink the wine if she wanted it, but she has never wanted to even try a sip. We wandered around the Old Town ( La Vieille Ville), taking pictures of the painted cows. Charley and Kelly went in a candy store and saw a man wearing an orange shirt that said “Knoxville Motors.” Charley thought that after 14 months we’d finally run into someone from our hometown. He went up to the man and asked him where he was from. “Egypt,” the man said proudly. Charley was too stunned to ask him about the shirt. We could have spent a couple of days in Geneva—there are many museums, beautiful churches, and famous buildings. But that wasn’t our agenda on this afternoon. We found our way to a big park called the Promenade des Bastions. I was most intrigued by several huge chessboards painted on the pavement in the park, each with tall heavy chess pieces. Each chessboard was surrounded by players and observers. There was an art show in another section of the park and a children’s play area where Kelly wanted to swing. On one side of the park was a long monument called the Monument de la Réformation, built against a 16th century wall and including statues of four Genevese reformers—one was John Calvin. We really weren’t in the mood to explore Geneva all that much, but this was our last night in Europe… the last night of our family’s long trip. This chapter of our life was ending… and we were heading home to a life that wouldn’t be the same as it was before. And so we found ourselves heading back to our matchbox room at the Hotel Bel’Espérance. I sat outside on the narrow balcony while Charley and Kelly went back out to get a snack. We read for a while… and then our last night in Europe was over. Thursday, August 11 (Geneva to Knoxville) We all had a hard time sleeping last night—too much excitement and as close as we have been these last many months, this last room was just too small. We were the first in the breakfast room at the hotel. There was a surprisingly substantial breakfast offering for this two-star hotel. Several of the people at breakfast were wearing Salvation Army uniforms. The desk clerk called us a cab and we loaded up our bags for the short (but expensive) trip to the station, where we caught a train to the airport. There was actually a border crossing between Switzerland and France in the airport! From Geneva we flew to Paris, from Paris to Atlanta, and then finally home to Knoxville. My parents were waiting for us at the gate in Knoxville, holding a big “Welcome Home” sign. They also had flowers and balloons. We felt like celebrities. Kelly went running down to hug them. Fourteen months—it was so good to see them! They could not believe how much Kelly has grown. She seems to have grown several inches—and slimmed down considerably—just on the last two weeks on our Swiss Walk. And so our “Grand Tour of Europe” was over, fourteen months to the day. I love my husband and my daughter so much, and wherever life leads us, I’m so glad we had this experience together. And what an adventure we’ve had on this grand tour: • 427 days together • 9 countries • 5 languages • 20 apartment or house rentals • 34 hotel rooms • 500+ miles on foot, including 2 major long-distance walking trips • 4 rented or leased cars • 14 major train trips and 1 overnight ferry • 53 blog postings • 10,000+ digital photos • Countless new friends And always… each other. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2006:/blog/kaydee//9.942 2006-04-21T18:52:59Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

Photos from our two-week Alpine Pass walk in Switzerland are posted here. We planned our long trip to include two long distance walks. In July/August 2004 we completed the 190 mile Coast-to-Coast walk across England. During our second summer we...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com here. We planned our long trip to include two long distance walks. In July/August 2004 we completed the 190 mile Coast-to-Coast walk across England. During our second summer we planned to do the 100 mile Alpine Pass walk in the Swiss Alps. The Alpine Pass walk became the “grand finale” of our Grand Tour… the very last chapter of this long family adventure. The Alpine Pass route is actually a complete trek across Switzerland, from the east on the border with Liechtenstein to Montreux on the shores of Lake Geneva. The entire walk covers about 202 miles and crosses 16 mountain passes. Our walk (our third self-guided walk with Sherpa Walking Holidays) was the central portion of the route: about 100 miles and eight passes through absolutely beautiful countryside. Although we had hiked extensively in England and France, we had never experienced the elevation-gain that was involved in this particular walk. Like our walk across England, this walk in Switzerland was one of the highlights of our trip. Thursday, July 28 (Lucerne to Engelberg) Our train left the Lucerne station this afternoon at 1:41 pm, a one-hour trip to Engelberg where our walk begins tomorrow morning. Charley and Kelly bought some lunch at the station while I stood with the bags. Our fourteen months of luggage is now condensed down to one big rolling duffel bag (that’s not completely full), two standard rolling suitcases, three backpacks, and a rolling computer bag. Kelly and I both have our hiking boots hanging off our luggage. It still seems like we have a lot of stuff. After today we won’t have the computer bag any more. And for the next two weeks we’ll be wearing those hiking boots. We ate our lunch as soon as we got on the train and were probably done before the train even left the station. This train must make the trip between Lucerne and Engelberg several times a day, as there’s a train scheduled every hour and even every half-hour in the morning and late afternoon. Engelberg is the starting point for a couple of mountain-top day-trips from Lucerne, including the ride up to the glaciers at Mount Titlis (10,626 feet). The cable car to Mount Titlis is called the Rotair and somehow rotates so passengers get a 360 degree view while traveling up the mountain. Our train traveled around Lake Lucerne (the Vierwaldstättersee), stopping at several small villages and towns. We passed along the base of Mount Pilatus (6,995 feet). We had done a day-trip to the top of Pilatus in 1997, long before we would have considered ourselves hikers. I mainly remember how rattled Charley was by the steep train ride up to the very top of the mountain. A lot of the passengers on the train today seemed to be hikers. The Swiss train system is considered one of the best in the world, known for being very clean and very punctual. When we arrived in Zurich a few days ago, we bought special train passes that give us a 50% discount on trains, buses and mountain railways while we are in Switzerland. We also have a card for Kelly where she rides for free. We’ve almost paid for our tickets in our ticket savings just the last couple of days. It had seemed like we were in a normal train, but about 15 minutes before we reached Engelberg, the train attached to some kind of rack and began to ascend the mountain on a very steep track, moving much more slowly. Engelberg is at 3287 feet, so we’re glad that the train got us up this high before we start our long hike. Tomorrow we will climb further up in the mountains beyond Engelberg. Engelberg is a town of about 3500 people, a center for winter and summer mountain activities. The village is also famous for a large Benedictine monastery founded in 1120 Our hotel tonight is the Hotel Banklialp, which sits on a slope on the outskirts of Engelberg—right on the path where we begin our walk in the morning. The manager of the hotel met us at the station. (We had asked Maria to call for us and set this up.) He spoke very good English and was very friendly. It was nice to get the ride instead of having to walk with our luggage—especially since the hotel is up a hill. We like this hotel a lot… a good place for a relaxing afternoon and hopefully a good night’s sleep before we begin our walk. We have a big room with a separate area for Kelly. We were al happy to have our own personal toilet again! The hotel is modern, but has a very traditional décor. Best of all, we have a little balcony with a table and three chairs that overlooks the village with mountains seemingly all around us. I can peer over the edge of the balcony, and there’s our path for tomorrow… heading up the mountain behind us. We enjoyed the beautiful view and a couple of hours on the balcony. Kelly and I used the time to study the maps and our Alpine Pass guidebook. She has asked to carry the map and guidebook each day and be our navigator on this walk. Although I like doing this too, I’m happy to turn over this job. Our little girl is growing up! Our dinner is included in our package on nine of the fourteen nights of this walking tour. We had a similar arrangement on our walking tour in Alsace, France a few years ago. When the dinner is included, normally there is a set meal (kind of a daily special with several courses) that we found was quite good. This forced us to eat some unfamiliar food (good food!) that we probably wouldn’t have ordered. Tonight the meal was included. Charley and I both enjoyed our dinner, but it wasn’t really to Kelly’s liking. We had a big salad with vinaigrette dressing; a noodle soup (clear broth with very fine noodles); a main dish of cold beef with a dressing, boiled potatoes and more salad; and a good dessert with vanilla and strawberry ice cream and meringue. (Meringue was invented in the Swiss town of Meiringen where we will stay in two nights.) Kelly really only liked the noodle soup. We both gave her part of our soup and ended up ordering her a plate of French fries, which were really good. We also asked if she could have just plain ice cream without the meringue. In the future we will plan to ask about a children’s menu. Compared to a lot of European children, we have found that Kelly—just turned 12—is often taken for much older… perhaps 15. Unfortunately, her eating preferences aren’t quite at that maturity level. I do want to be sure that she gets a good meal during the walk. We took showers, worked on our packing (again!), and read out on our balcony. We’re excited to see what tomorrow will bring as we head up further into the Swiss Alps. Friday, July 29 (Engelberg to Englesnalp) Today was a tough day, especially for our first day. We only walked 8.7 miles, but we climbed up 2730 feet to the highest point of our day. the Jochpass. And although we began the day in beautiful weather, we encountered an unexpected thunder-and-lightening storm in the last hour, an hour which will go down as one of our scariest hiking experiences. We’re doing our walk once more with Sherpa Expeditions, a walking company based in Britain. The Alpine Pass Walk is our third Sherpa tour; we’ve actually done a walking every summer now for the past four summers. We like the approach of a self-guided tour. We’re supplied with a packet of maps and directions. We’re given alternatives for a more scenic or bad weather route. Our hotels are picked and reserved for us. Our luggage is moved each day. (Thank goodness, because we absolutely could not backpack for 14 days!) But we walk on our own and have a fair amount of flexibility in our walking. On this trip our walking notes offer many alternatives in the event of bad weather—alternate trails, cable cars, even buses. On a couple of days the notes even say that we need to check on conditions and not hike up over a mountain pass if there is snow. The Alpine Pass walk is only available July to September due to weather, but even in summer there could be snow at the highest elevations. This is a new experience for us—the first time we’ve hiked in Switzerland. ]]> Hotel Engstlenalp stands seemingly in the middle of nowhere… a four-story Victorian-era building with a big terrace. The little community consists of the hotel, a small yoghurt factory, and a couple of other houses. Apparently this is a major center for hiking and even mountain climbing. The hotel is only open May through October. We had a great room—a big one—on the top floor, built under the eaves. The walls, floor and furniture were all varnished wood, very clean and crisp. There were two twin beds with big duvets for Charley and me and also a futon couch. Kelly had a bed built up into a loft—almost like a bunk on a ship. The bathroom had a great shower. We hung up our wet clothes to dry out. Kelly and I took our showers before dinner; Charley waited until afterwards. The hot shower really invigorated me. We had dinner with Al, and enjoyed getting to know him. He’s about thirty years old, works in maintenance in a helicopter manufacturing company, and is married with three children. Although he walks a lot in England, this is his first long distance walk. Dinner wasn’t included in our package tonight, so we got to order off the menu. I had bratwurst and rosti potatoes, a really good meal. Charley had the daily special (a veal dish) and Kelly had pasta with butter. Our waitress was originally from Toronto, Canada, and was very friendly. The dining room was surprisingly full. We were tired from our long day. When we got ready for bed, Kelly decided not to sleep in the little loft bed after all. She couldn’t easily get through the small space at the top of the ladder, so we opened up the futon for her instead. Saturday, July 30 (Englesnalp to Meiringen) Although the weather wasn’t great, this was a much better day today for one big reason: it was all downhill! Our walk today was about 11 miles. We looked out the window to a day that was foggy and a bit drizzly, but it didn’t seem to be raining hard. There were two route alternatives today—a high route that was supposedly more scenic and a valley route that was recommended in bad weather. Given the conditions, we decided we’d take the valley route, which was partly on a small road. We ate with Al again in the big hotel dining room. They offer a very simple breakfast here: big slices of bread with butter or jam, yoghurt (from the factory “next door”), juice, and hot drinks. As we ate, we watched a group of adults and children load up several pack horses with their packs and duffel bags. Then they all headed off into the foggy morning. Kelly really wanted to visit the yoghurt factory, but they didn’t open until 9 am and we decided not to delay our departure. We gathered up our packs, put on our raingear, and headed off down the Gental valley. The path cut down through woods, and finally emerged into a grassy valley with tall mountains on either side. After a while we were able to shed our rain gear, though the day was dismal for several hours. We did hear and then see a couple more marmots along the way. They make a shrill whistling sound that startled us at first. There’s actually a post bus that goes to Engstlenalp (where the road dead-ends), and eventually we ended up on the little paved post-bus road—just a one-lane road. We passed a couple of farms, some selling cheese. There were lots of cows on the road and in the fields, and we even saw a car or two. We walked quite a ways among the cows—not my favorite thing to do, though these seem more agreeable cows than the ones we saw in England. I always felt the English cows didn’t like us in their field, and then there was the ever-present possibility of a bull somewhere among them. Maybe milk cows are happier cows than beef cows. (Hmmmm…. probably a psychological reason for that!) Most of the Swiss cows wear huge cowbells that ring incessantly and loudly… sound effects to accompany us on our walk and really very pleasant. We caught up with Al and walked with him quite a while. He hikes listening to music. I think he enjoyed some company, as we continued together down through the woods and by some isolated farms. Finally we came to a small settlement outside the village of Innertkirchen. There was an attractive Swiss inn, and people were sitting outside enjoying their lunch. (Several had apparently arrived on motorcycles.) Al decided to press on, but our family wanted a break. We made plans to meet Al for dinner at our hotel in Meiringen. We sat down at an outdoor table and had just started studying the menu when it began to sprinkle. Although other diners seemed prepared to stick it out, we had been in the great outdoors all morning and decided we’d rather have our meal in comfort. The restaurant offered a good menu with Swiss specialties. Charley and I shared a cheese dish called Kaseschnitte—kind of an open faced sandwich with melted cheese and mushrooms. Just my kind of dish! We also had beer, which we’ll drink instead of water or soft drinks here in Switzerland. Kelly was glad to find pasta on the menu. We passed through the village (strange to be in civilization again!), then found the path to Meiringen via the Aareschlucht gorge. The path went right alongside the Aare River, initially a gentle stream. Now I had read about the Aareschlucht in the Sherpa notes and it was recommended as a natural phenomenon not to be missed. So I was pretty emphatic about wanting to hike through this gorge, even though it added just a bit to the walk for the day. We walked along our river path, finally arriving at a bridge and a steep set of stairs up to a road and restaurant/gift shop. The entrance to the gorge was through the gift shop and there was a small admission charge. At this point the river changed dramatically, making its way through a very narrow passageway in a rocky mountain. I’m sure the effect of the Aareschlucht was heightened due to the rainfall the previous day. Somehow some enterprising people had once managed to construct a wooden boardwalk along the left side of the gorge, affixed to the rock with steam beams and supports. The boardwalk was maybe four feet wide, and traffic was moving in either direction. Occasionally someone even came by with a baby stroller! Charley has a fear of heights that he has been working to overcome, but he didn’t like the Aareschlucht whatsoever. It wasn’t all that high, but he didn’t like the fact that the wooden boardwalk was just hung off the side of the rock—right over the raging river. The river at this point was a swirling, ferocious torrent… crashing its way between the two rock walls. At points the passage through the gorge dipped into the rock and became a tunnel for a brief time. Charley was much more comfortable having his feet on solid ground and preferred to take any alternatives through tunnels instead of the wooden boardwalk. At one point he turned to me with a real look of anger. “Did you know it would he like this?!” he asked. “No, no,” I protested. “All I knew was that you walked through a gorge and that it was neat.” (I, of course, thought it was tremendously neat.) Kelly picked up on her father’s emotions and also moved through the gorge in a state of high anxiety. Eventually they both became more comfortable—especially when they didn’t have to share the narrow boardwalk with people passing in the other direction. At the narrowest point of the gorge Kelly stopped so I could take her photo. It was so narrow that you could stand on the boardwalk and put your hand across the river gorge and touch the rock on the other side! Finally we emerged from the Aareschlucht, passing through an entrance and large restaurant on the other side. I thought it was great—what an experience! What a unique thing to see! Charley liked it all much better once it was over. We continued on our way to Meiringen… not far now. Meiringen is a more substantial town of about 4600 people, a long-time destination for tourists to this area. Part of Meiringen’s notoriety is its connection with Sr. Arthur Conan Doyle, who used to vacation here. Doyle set one of his most famous Sherlock Holmes stories at Reichtenbach Falls above Meiringen, where Holmes fought with a Professor Moriarty and supposed perished (though later reappeared). I don’t know anything about the story, but Kelly’s read all the Sherlock Holmes stories and was excited about being near Reichtenbach Falls. Meiringen is also known as the home of the meringue, and there are several bakeries which specialize in this delicate dessert. I know a lot more about meringue than Sherlock Holmes. We trekked on through the little main street of the town toward our hotel. It was decorated with colorful banners and Swiss flags. Al was enjoying a beer and a book at the outdoor table of one of the restaurants as we walked by. We stopped to check in with him and talk about the walk through the gorge. Charley was now much more enthusiastic about his experience in the gorge. The Hotel Baer is at the far end of Meiringen, attached to the post office and the bus station. It’s kind of a modern, sterile place with a bar and a restaurant—not a tremendous amount of Swiss charm. There wasn’t really a proper reception desk, and we had to go to the bar to get the key to our room. Our triple room was fine, looking out over the big bus parking lot (a surprisingly busy depot) with the mountains beyond. We were reunited with our luggage (which we hadn’t seen since Engelberg), cleaned up a bit, and had time to explore Meiringen. Charley went off on his own (maybe to find Al and join him for a beer), but Kelly and I walked up to the Sherlock Holmes museum in the center of town and paid to go inside. It’s an old church with Sherlock Holmes/Sir Arthur Conan Doyle memorabilia. In one area you press a button and it lights up a reproduction of the drawing room of 221B Baker Street where Sherlock and Mr. Watson used to live. Kelly enjoyed the museum a lot. Outside the museum is a full-sized statue of Sherlock Holmes sitting on a bench in his detective hat with his pipe. Kelly sat on the bench—as I suspect thousands of other tourists have done—so I could take her picture. We met Charley back at the hotel and all walked across the street to a little grocery store to get a few provisions for tomorrow. We’d rather carry a light lunch tomorrow instead of taking the time to stop in a mountain inn along the way. Tomorrow will be a long day for us—13+ miles and uphill again. We’re also questioning the wisdom of stopping for a big lunch on this walk, although I do enjoy a relaxing break at a pretty place. But we all tend to eat and drink too much, which complicates our afternoon walking. So we bought a couple of apples, bread, some cheese and of course that all-important hiking provision: candy bars. When we got back to our room, Kelly realized that she had left her precious stuffed badger “Baxter” at the hotel in Englesnalp. She’s a stuffed animal girl and got Baxter a year ago when we were in Scotland. She’s carried him with her all this time, sleeping with him every night… she’s become quite emotionally attached to him. Although we had almost no luggage with us in Englesnalp, somehow while packing up the room, he must have been left in the bedding on her futon. Kelly was horribly distressed, but I’m only thankful that we hadn’t taken Barli to Englesnalp. (That would have been emotionally devastating to both of us, since the worn-out stuffed bear Barli had been MINE as a child, now passed onto Kelly. Thankfully we had both decided Barli was too precious to carry in a backpack, and so he had bypassed the trip to Englesnalp and arrived in Meiringen safely snuggled in Kelly’s suitcase.) But now we had lost the almost-as-loved Baxter. Charley took charge, and he and Kelly went downstairs to get help from the hotel people to call the Hotel Englesnalp. The hotel manager there said he would investigate and call us back. We headed down to dinner, Kelly quite impacted by the loss of one of the few special possessions she still has with her at this point in the trip. We met Al for dinner again tonight. He is a very nice young man, and we seem to have plenty to chat about over our meals. I’m impressed that he is doing this trip all alone. The dinner was served in a large, rather sterile hotel dining room which was used only for people on the hotel meal plan. We asked if we could eat in the busier main dining room and they started to seat us, but then we were told no, we must eat in the other room. There was just one other table of guests—a family with a teenage daughter. The environment was very hushed and the service was horribly slow. I don’t even remember the meal. After dinner the hotel staff told us that the hotel manager from Englesnalp had called. He had left a message that Baxter had been found and that he would put him on the first bus to Meiringen in the morning. That bus doesn’t arrive until after 10 am… quite a bit later than we planned to leave on our long walk tomorrow. We really need every minute of daylight tomorrow to get to Grindelwald, since the day involves 13 miles and almost 4500 feet of elevation gain. But Kelly is frantic that she isn’t going to leave without Baxter. Sunday, July 31 (Meiringen to Grindelwald) We had breakfast with Al, who then headed on his way to Grindelwald. Meanwhile we arranged for a late checkout and waited for the bus from Englesnalp to arrive with Baxter, the missing stuffed badger. We watched several the buses arriving at around the appointed time, and finally Charley went to the bus that seemed to have arrived from Englesnalp. He spoke to the driver, but there was no package for us with Baxter. We went back to the hotel and Charley called the Englesnalp hotel again. The man there said there was a problem getting to the bus, and he would mail Baxter to us in the USA. (Postcript: we never saw Baxter again…perhaps he’s now making some Swiss child happy.) So we were very late getting started on what was to be a very long day anyway. We walked back through Meiringen, then turned right up to a small suburb-village and finally (gulp!) straight up a mountain. It was a busy hiking day on this Sunday, and we met quite a few people along the route. Of course, we stopped after about an hour to eat our lunch on some rocks on the side of the trail. Just as we were finishing, we saw some people we recognized coming down the trail—the other family that had been eating in the hotel dining room last night. They were British, but their pretty teenage daughter went to school in France. We also stopped to help a man who was hiking with his two sons—they were looking for the path to Reichtenbach Falls. A bit later (while Charley was hiking on ahead), Kelly and I met two German men who talked to us for a long time. Once we get into a more extended conversation, everyone is always very interested in our trip, especially Kelly’s experience attending a French village school. Just past a hotel/restaurant and the turnoff for Reichtenbach Falls, we briefly joined a small curvy road and headed up a path that went up the mountain on a more direct route, frequently crossing and/or joining the road. There was some traffic and an occasional yellow postbus. Finally, the path flattened out as we headed up toward extremely high mountains. We passed through a campground of some sort and then by a big old ramshackle hotel. Outside the hotel Kelly and I chatted with a German couple—I’m not even sure how we connected. We asked them what to say when we meet other hikers on the trail. They spoke good English and gave us a couple of possibilities: Guten Morgen! Gruss Gott! Something we had never heard before: Gruetzi! They said even “Hi” would be okay! Finally we decided to stop walking at a tiny settlement called Schwarzwaldalp where there was a mountain inn and a bus stop. We hadn’t walked all that many miles, but we had gained 2800 feet in elevation. There were still about 2-1/2 official hours to go with a steep uphill climb (another 1700 feet), so our family was definitely looking at more than 2-1/2 hours. We sat down at an outside table at the mountain inn, had drinks, used the bathroom, and then took the postbus to Grindelwald. As we traveled up the mountain to the peak at Grosse Scheidegg (about 6400 feet), we were glad we had decided to take the bus. The downside is that we also decided that we’d give up our rest day tomorrow to finish today’s walk. Our Sherpa directions told us that we might have to alert the bus driver to let us out at our hotel at the top of the village of Grindelwald. The bus stop was right at the Hotel Lauberhorn, but apparently they don’t stop unless they need to. We loved the looks of the hotel—very alpine in flavor with picnic tables out front. It’s located more in a residential area of the village than in the main commercial area, and mountains rise in every direction. What a wonderful setting! Al was out on his balcony when we walked up to the hotel and waved to us—he had a towel wrapped around his waist, just out of the shower. We made plans to meet at dinner. Our room is on the third floor. We have a balcony that looks down toward Grindelwald and absolutely beautiful mountains. We can also see glaciers off to the left—Grindelwald is sometimes called the glacier village because there are so many in this area. We showered and relaxed on the balcony. The hotel has a big dining room on second floor. We had a good meal and conversation with Al. He is looking forward to a rest day in Grindelwald tomorrow (I’m jealous!!!) and talked about having a massage. We had a friendly young waitress who spoke English well. The hotel also has internet, so I was able to catch up a bit on my correspondence. We’re happy to be staying here for two days. Monday, August 1 (finished walk from Schwarzwaldalp to Grindelwald) Although we would have liked a full rest day, I’m actually glad we didn’t make the entire long haul from Meiringen yesterday. Al said the section up to Grosse Scheidegg was very long. We decided to get up early and finish our walk, so we could at least have part of the afternoon free. We had breakfast (a good one) with Al. He had found his way to a bar in Grindelwald last night, and was struggling a bit this morning. He needed that massage today! We waited out at the bus stop with another family and then took the postbus back to the little inn at Schwarzwaldalp and then started our walk up the long hill to Grosse Scheidegg. I had a terrible time this morning for some reason. I was really dragging and seemed to have to stop and rest every five minutes. I’m not sure what my problem was. I kept sending Kelly and Charley on ahead and used my old standby excuse of taking photos of wildflowers. Kelly was inspired, a real mountain goat. There were quite a few other hikers out today, and lots of people passed me. I’m sure they wondered if this middle-aged American woman was up for hiking in these Alps. Our path wove up and around a twisty road with occasional postbuses. The buses have a very distinctive honking music to warn other vehicles they are coming. The scenery was incredible—mountains in every direction, some topped with snow. And the wildflowers were just beautiful. Of course, I needed to take lots of photos! We also stopped to take a couple of photos of a large group of goats grazing among the wildflowers. We finally made it to the top. There’s a big mountain inn at Grosse Scheidegg and a lot of activity. We decided to go ahead and have lunch, since the rest of the walk was all downhill. We sat outside on one of the terraces, admiring the view down toward Grindelwald and the huge mountains to the left: the Mönch, the Eiger, and then the famous Jungfrau. We enjoyed the meal and a short break. Kelly had pasta bolognaise, and Charley and I had goulash soup and bread. I felt much better after my soup and a beer. We had a really good walk down. It was a pretty day and I tied my little maroon top around my waist and hiked in my tank top. Suddenly everything seemed to change for me—I was back to my old self. I pride myself on being very good at hiking downhill! We hiked through one avalanche area with some very ominous warning signs. Finally we reached the beginning of the residential area with little chalets dotted here and there. Today many of the houses were decorated with Swiss flags because it’s an important holiday: Swiss National Day. Our hotel planned a special barbeque for guests this evening because of the holiday. Charley and Kelly went outside to the picnic tables, and Kelly played badminton with Al and some other guests. I read up in the room. We were all looking forward to the barbeque, though Kelly was a bit anxious about what would be served. She struggles when the choices at a meal are limited… always wanting a good meal, but worried that she won’t like the food. The owners were cooking a variety of meat on a big grill, including chicken which pleased Kelly. They were also setting up a big buffet with salads and other side dishes. We ordered big mugs of cold beer. Al introduced us to another Sherpa couple that had caught up to us here in Grindelwald. He had spotted the Sherpa tags on their luggage. Kris and Phil are a married couple—perhaps in between me and Charley in age—from southern England. They have done several other Sherpa walks in Switzerland. Actually, they’ve done just about all the Sherpa walks in Switzerland and decided to repeat this one because they liked it so much. Because they were already familiar with the route, they had constructed a slightly different agenda for themselves. Just as we were getting up to get our food, it started to rain. We stayed dry under the trees for a few minutes, but then it was obvious that the rain wasn’t going to let us eat outdoors. The picnic moved inside and upstairs to the dining room, but it wasn’t quite the same. We did enjoy talking with Al, Kris and Phil. I tried to use the internet again after dinner, but it looks like the computer is now having problems. Tuesday, August 2 (Grindelwald to Lauterbrunnen) This was a very, very tough day, and we are proud of what the three of us accomplished. We did the entire walk in dismal weather, even when there were several options to simplify things and take a train. We hiked about 12 miles today, with an elevation gain of 3668 feet. The conditions were very challenging—foggy and rainy pretty much the whole day. It was an amazing contrast to yesterday. After I took a few photos from the balcony of our room, I put my camera in a waterproof bag and didn’t take it out for the rest of the day. Our route took us down through the main part of Grindelwald for the first time, a busy town with lots of shops, hotels and restaurants. We looked at some rain hats for me at a couple of hiking shops, since I lose my peripheral vision when I have the hood of my rain jacket up… like today—but I didn’t find what I was looking for. Then we cut down below the village to a mountain railway station at Grund, and finally began our trek uphill on a steep path near the railway track also heading up the mountain. A few trains went by, and people waved at us. We saw Kris and Phil below us at one point. We also encountered a mother, father and teenage son making their way up a similar route. The mother was really having major problems, struggling more than me. Eventually we came to a mountain inn at Alpiglen. The views from Alpiglen were supposed to be “superb” but we couldn’t see much of anything. We just knew that somewhere out there were the Eiger, the Mönch and the Jungfrau. We were glad to reach a temporary stopping place, even if there wasn’t a view. It was too early for lunch, but we decided to get out of the rain, have something hot to drink, and use their bathroom. The family we had seen on the trail had the same idea, and they were also taking a break at the inn. We found out that they’re Scottish and are on a self-guided walking trip similar to our own, though not through Sherpa. They were walking just to Wengen today, not quite as far as our route. We continued to make our way uphill to Kleine Scheidegg on a wide paved trail. Although “kleine” means “small” and “grosse” usually means “big,” Kleine Scheidegg is actually 324 feet higher than Grosse Scheidegg. We read in our guidebook that the term “grosse” meant “great” and referred to the extent of the pass (a wide saddle), not the height at this point. There were a couple of other walkers out, even some children, despite the dreary conditions. It was incredibly foggy and the fog came and went, almost creating visual illusions. As usual, I struggled on the steep uphill climb. Kelly was desperate to use a bathroom, and eventually we let her make her way up without us. We were headed to a big mountain railway station at Kleine Scheidegg, where the trains depart for the Jungfraujoch, the highest mountain railway station in Europe. As we got closer to Kleine Scheidegg, we saw several big hotels on the top of the mountain. It was strangely eerie—kind of a mountain resort in the middle of nowhere. Then as we approached the top, we met a large group of Japanese tourists walking down the path with their guide. They carrying umbrellas and dressed in regular street clothes and shoes, and I wondered how they would ever get back up the hill. But at least they can report back that they hiked in the Swiss Alps! Kleine Scheidegg was incredibly busy with a big railway station. In addition to the hotels and the station, there were a couple of souvenir shops, restaurants, and even an outdoor playground. Announcements were made on a loudspeaker every few minutes, and there were lots of tourists despite the weather. The tickets for the trip to the Jungfrau are very expensive (about $125 round-trip for a second-class ticket from Grindelwald to the top via Kleine Scheidegg). Today I’m sure visibility at the very top was non-existent, but the tourists were still headed up. We saw another train station just below Kleine Scheidegg, which seemed to be the departure point for Wengen—our destination for today. We briefly—but seriously—considered taking the train because we were so wet. But Charley and I also knew that once we started taking the train on days like this, it would be too easy to do it again—and then we wouldn’t have really hiked across the Swiss Alps. We decided to continue on and save a possible bus or train ride for a day when we need it more. It’s actually possible there will be days when it will be snowing on the mountains! There were a couple of eating places at Kleine Scheidegg, so we hoped we would be able to locate Kelly. If I had known it would be this busy and spread out, I wouldn’t have let her go on ahead. We went in the biggest restaurant, and Charley got a corner booth for us while I went off to the lady’s room in search of Kelly. Fortunately she was there, struggling with an upset stomach. Charley and I ordered bowls of goulash soup. I had hot tea, and Charley had hot gluhwein. We ordered a wonderful apple dessert that we saw people at another table eating. We took off our wet clothes and hoped we could dry off and warm up a bit before the walk down the mountain. Kelly finally joined us and also had some hot soup and apple dessert. We saw Kris and Phil at a nearby table. They planned to take the train down to Lauterbrunnen. Their itinerary for the next couple of days is a bit different than ours, since they decided to stay these next two nights in Murren. They have done this walk before and feel under less pressure to push themselves excessively to do the whole walk. The Wood Family, on the other hand, was determined to press on! The rest of the day’s walk was all downhill… it was very long (still another 3+ hours), but all downhill. Downhill is definitely easier (especially for me), but it’s also very hard on your knees. We basically gave up all our altitude gain for the day. We have recognized the daily pattern for this walk: spend the morning climbing a very steep mountain, have lunch at a mountain inn at the top where there are beautiful views in good weather, spend the afternoon climbing down the other side of the mountain, spend the night at a hotel in the valley. Then the next day do it over again! Our route to Wengen was on a gravel path, once again passing near the railroad track and even crossing over the tracks at a small mountain station. At least the rain seemed to have stopped, though it was still very foggy and visibility was very poor. Charley and Kelly started playing word games to fill the time. They tested each other on state and world capitals. Then we all played an elaborate ABC game: “The brown buffalo barreled brazenly to Borneo.” This one would have described me: “The wet woman walked wearily to Wengen.” Kelly loved this game, and it did help us pass the time. Meanwhile, we used our walking poles to set a rapid rhythm that would get us down to Lauterbrunnen as quickly as possible. We finally came to Wengen, a pedestrian-only village at 4183 feet. We could see down the valley to where we were headed. Wengen looked very interesting, but we decided to continue on—we only stopped to use the rest room at the train station. We could have taken the train down to Lauterbrunnen from here, but we had our momentum and we kept on going. Lauterbrunnen is set in a narrow valley with Wengen on one mountain and Murren on the other. The valley is set between almost vertical cliffs and so there are many, many waterfalls, one of which is almost 1000 feet high. We will base in Lauterbrunnen for two nights. Our route then heads out up to Murren (on the opposite side of the valley) and on over the next Alpine pass. Technically tomorrow is a rest day, but the following day is so long and hard, that our Sherpa notes recommend we use part of our rest day to walk up to Murren. We plan to do this. Then on our “big” walking day, we’ll take the funicular and train to Murren and begin our walk there. The path down to Lauterbrunnen was steep and crossed over the railway several times. We kept on with the word games as a way to pass the time. Finally we reached a bridge and had to find our way through a parking garage and then a big train station with an underground tunnel. We then walked just a little ways toward the funicular to find our hotel—the Hotel Silberhorn. We were absolutely soaking wet. The hotel looked very nice—too nice for the three of us to be dripping on the carpet! The desk person took us to a drying room where we could leave our wet clothes. She brought out some drying racks and we stripped off the various outer layers of wet things. We liked our room a lot—plenty of space to spread out for two nights and a balcony with a view of the valley and the mountain on the other side. Charley took the rest of our wet things off to dry, and we took turns to use a wonderfully hot shower. The hotel had a big dining room and lots of guests. Their fixed menu included a salad bar, not something we have seen a lot in Europe. We were led to an assigned table. Al’s table was next to ours, and we asked to combine our table with his. We caught up on the events of the day. After dinner Kelly was somehow invited to join a group of older British tourists who were playing Trivial Pursuit in the lounge. I went up to read and rest, but she played Trivial Pursuit for a long time. Charley said she was a feature attraction of the game. She played on the men’s team and knew the answers to a couple of questions that no one else knew. She was pretty excited about this experience. Wednesday, August 3 (Lauterbrunnen to Murren) We didn’t see Al at breakfast… he was planning to go up to the Jungfrau and then do the walk to Murren. I would have liked to do the Jungfrau trip, but our real opportunity had been the “free day” in Grindelwald when we had to finish the walk from the day before. The visibility just seems too poor today to justify the expense, even with our 50% passes. Now we have a reason to come back to Switzerland, and at least we saved a little money. Kelly saw some of the Trivial Pursuit players at breakfast. They greeted her very enthusiastically. I felt like a celebrity because I was Kelly’s mother. Our hike to Murren was supposed to take about three hours and cut the time off tomorrow’ long day. We decided we didn’t have to do the walk right away and walked down into the main part of the village where there are several sports shops. Kelly begged for a pair or gaiters and we finally relented. She absolutely hates her rain pants, and the gaiters will keep the water out of her boots. I got a big goofy-looking rain hat so I don’t have to wear the hood of my rain jacket any more. I look like an old-fashioned fisherman—not very fashionable. It’s a good thing we had this gear, because it was a nasty day again today… drizzly and very overcast—not a good day for Al’s trip to the Jungfrau either. Charley asked at the hotel desk about the path to Murren. The desk person told him that the path was closed due to erosion from the rain but that we could take the road to Interlaken for about a mile and then find a path going up to the left. So we started off down the main road. We went more than a mile out of Lauterbrunnen and never saw any path on the left. The road was quite busy with almost no shoulder. I was behind Charley and Kelly when suddenly I slipped on the wet road and went down hard on my hands and knees in the gutter. I screamed for Charley because I was afraid a car would come around the corner while I was sprawled on the edge of the narrow road. I said I was fine, but I really wasn’t. So the day didn’t start well for us—first the rain, then our inability to find the path, and then my fall. Our day was slipping away as we trudged in the rain in what was clearly the wrong direction. Finally we reached a bus stop where it seemed we could catch a bus back to Lauterbrunnen. At that point it was clear there wasn’t a path on the left that would head up to Murren. The sign at the bus stop said it was only a few minutes until the bus would arrive, but we waited 15 minutes and no bus came. Add that to the list of bad omens for the day! We saw a woman on the other side of the street and asked her how best to get to back to Lauterbrunnen, now well over a mile away. She pointed us to a path alongside the river and so we headed back to the village. It was all very discouraging, though at least we weren’t walking on that busy road! There was no way we could just put off this part of the walk till tomorrow, as we couldn’t possibly do the whole walk in one day. We stopped at the Tourist Office to ask about the path to Murren. The man there said the main path to Murren was not usable today, but that the alternate path went up right next to our hotel! We have no idea why the desk clerk at our hotel didn’t send us there to begin with. At that point we needed lunch and an attitude adjustment. As we walked down the street in search of a restaurant, we passed the German couple Kelly and I had talked with on the walk from Meiringen to Grindelwald… the ones who coached us on how to greet hikers we passed on the trail. I think they were surprised that we remembered them, and we enjoyed catching up on what we had each done the last several days. We found a good restaurant on the main street and sat outside on a porch with a heater. I had rosti potatoes with cheese and Kelly had pasta. I don’t remember what Charley had but I know we both had beer. The Scottish family from yesterday was eating at the next table. They had stayed in Wengen last night and were walking on up to Murren after lunch. (The mother planned to take the train.) They had also taken the train down from Kleine Scheidegg to Wengen yesterday. This made the three of us proud again that we had done the whole walk yesterday. After fortifying ourselves at lunch and taking a bathroom break back at the hotel, we headed up the path right by our hotel, next to the funicular. It was extremely wet. We crossed under the funicular track a couple of times. This was not a fun walk at all: wet, steep, and dirty. We made lots of stops. The Scottish man and his son passed us going full-speed up the hill. (They made much better time when they weren’t walking with the mother, much as it hurts me to say that!) Finally we reached a road near the funicular station at Grütschalp. This road went across the mountain to Murren… an easy walk but kind of boring. Kelly started up the ABC game again. We did see a couple of other people: a woman with a dog picking berries and a couple of young men who didn’t seem like hikers. We slowed down and let those guys get ahead. The road became gravel—it was very forested and foggy. We met up with a man and woman who said it was still very foggy up ahead. We told Kelly not to get too far ahead because of the fog. After about an hour we came to a rail stop called Winteregg—just a little inn and a place to wait for the train that ran back and forth across the mountain from Grütschalp to Murren. We were still an hour from Murren. According to the posted schedule, it was only two minutes until the next train, so we decided just to stop at this point and do this last bit of the walk (an easy part) to Murren in the morning. We took train back to the funicular station at Grütschalp, then the funicular back down to Lauterbrunnen. Our 50% passes work on these mountain trains and funiculars, and Kelly is free. What a hard day—even though we didn’t cover much territory! My knee was hurting from my fall on the road but I didn’t say anything. We could have eaten anywhere in town since our dinner wasn’t included tonight, but we had liked the dinner at the hotel last night and made plans with Al to eat there again. Kelly had the same meal today that she had last night: chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce. Al told us about his trip up to the Jungfrau—it was very snowy and he really couldn’t see a thing. And he got dizzy from the altitude. But I think he enjoyed the experience. We went to bed early—we have a big day tomorrow. Thursday, August 4 (Lauterbrunnen to Golderli) This was by far our hardest day so far in the walk—a day of real contrasts. We awoke to beautiful blue skies but eight hours later we found ourselves enveloped in fog. The important thing is that we made it—eventually! My knee was bothering me from my fall yesterday, but I didn’t want to complain or slow things down. I definitely felt I could do the walk, even though I was hurting a bit. Today we had to finish the walk to Murren, then make our way over a major Alpine pass called the Sefinenfurke and finally down to a tiny hamlet called Golderli where we had a rustic accommodation for the night. Our suitcases couldn’t be transported to Golderli and we will see them again in Adelboden tomorrow. So we had to carry our overnight things in our backpacks. Once again, I took the absolute bare minimum. Since we hadn’t made it all the way to Murren, we were up early this morning to begin our walk… we were the first ones waiting for the first funicular up the mountain side. At the end of the funicular line we caught the little mountain train that runs back and forth along the ridge to Murren. Unfortunately we didn’t get to ride all the way to Murren. We got off at the little inn at Winteregg where we stopped walking yesterday afternoon and then hiked on the easy and level path to Murren. The train passed us a couple of times going back and forth on its little route. One time it passed us and we were surprised that someone in the train was yelling and waving at us out the window—it was Al on his way to Murren, not too far ahead of us. Murren seemed like a very pleasant village (another pedestrian-only village) and we would have liked to linger, but we were sensitive to the need to press on. Kelly and I did stop in a gift shop to buy her a key chain, and we found a little hedgehog for her collection. Charley and Kelly went in a little grocery store to buy some candy. Then we headed out of the village toward the cable car station going to the Schilthorn (9744 feet), made famous by the James Bond movie “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”. We could see the revolving restaurant on the top of the peak. I loved this part of the walk. The scenery was just beautiful—mountains in every direction—and it was a very pleasant day and a fairly easy walk on a narrow path. We could turn back and see the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau behind us—finally visible after two days in the fog! We passed a couple of small farms, some with cheese for sale. There were several other hikers out on this trail. At one point we saw some writing in the dirt—“Hi Kelly.” And a bit later on, another message in the dirt. We guessed that these messages were from Kris and Phil up ahead of us. What fun! About an hour out of Murren, we turned sharply by a small mountain inn and found Al waiting for us. We ended up walking with him for the rest of the morning. Al was good for Kelly. The two of them walked a bit ahead, keeping Charley and I in sight. There was one extremely difficult part—where we almost had to use our hands to climb up a steep rocky cliff. We were headed toward the Rostock Hut, where we planned to stop before ascending to our highest point of the day (and the walk so far)—the Sefinenfurke Pass at 8570 feet. The Rotstock Hut at 6690 feet is a rustic and isolated mountain hut with dormitory accommodations and a simple restaurant. It’s very remote, but had a surprisingly extensive menu. We decided they must bring their supplies in by helicopter, as there is no road anywhere nearby. The owners were from the French-speaking side of Switzerland, so I was excited to find tartiflette (a cheese and potato dish) on the menu, and it was great. We sat outside and enjoyed the views up to the Sefinenfurke, though we were also sensitive to more clouds that seemed to be moving in. We chatted with an American couple and their son who say they come to Murren every summer and always do a day hike out to the Rotstock Hut. We headed out through a herd of cows, then looked straight up at the pass we’d be crossing—almost 2,000 feet above us and a very steep climb. It was obvious that we didn’t need to hold Al back, so we encouraged him to go ahead and watched him move quickly up the steep and rocky hillside, listening to his music as he walked. We took our time, pausing occasionally to rest. The terrain very quickly changed to black shale and scree, and the path zigzagged up steeply. It was really kind of spooky—not a real place, not a place where people were supposed to be. At least the trail markings were frequent and easy to follow, though it was getting much cloudier and also quite cool. Up above we saw a man—it was Al—standing on the edge of the pass, waving his hiking poles at us in triumph. He was just a silhouette in the increasing clouds. We continued on, finally stopping to pull on gloves and hats. (I knew we brought these for a reason!) Not far from a top, three young people (two women and a man) scampered by us. Unless they were headed to the Rotstock Hut, they had a long way to go. We reached the Sefinenfurke Pass about two hours after we left the Rotstock Hut. What happened to our pretty day? We arrived at the top to wind, cold, and dense fog. We could barely see five feet in front of us. The top was a knife edge—less than five feet wide, or so it seemed. The young people were long gone. We were alone in a very isolated, frightening place. There was a signpost at the top, and a path ran along the knife edge, but our directions said we went across and down, headed for Golderli. Our route was a shock, despite what we had read in our guidebook and hiking notes. The path down the steep slope consisted of more scree and black slate with wooden planks somehow fastened to the ground… kind of steps on which to put your feet and stop you from hurtling down the scree slope. A cable enclosed in plastic tubing was also affixed to the ground. We were supposed to hold the chain and somehow make our way down on the boards. The cable only reached about two feet off the ground, so the descent had to be made in a very awkward stooped position. Kelly simply lost it at this point. “I can’t do it!” she screamed. “I don’t want to die! I want to go back!” She was hysterical and very, very scared. This was now twice in the walk that she had been afraid of dying. I had a brief moment of wondering if we should have brought our child here. She is only 12 years old, but what experiences she has had compared to her friends at home. Of course we couldn’t go back—we had to go forward. And going back wasn’t an attractive alternative either. Charley pressed aside his own fear of heights to reassure Kelly. He told her he’d go first and that we’d go very slowly. I brought up the rear. It was agonizingly slow, and of course we could see just a few feet in front of us. (Though that may have been a good thing, as we couldn’t see how steep it really was or how far we had to go.) We stooped and crept our way down the tricky slope, Kelly hanging desperately onto the cable. Our walking poles—which were so valuable on the way up—now seemed like useless appendages. And for me, the pain in my poor knee—which I’d tried not to think about—became excruciating. There was no sense to say anything about it now. What would Charley do? How would that help Kelly? We just had to get to Golderli for the night. Eventually we reached the end of the steps and cables, but the path continued through the screefield, still clouded in the fog. Fortunately we could always seem to see the next route marker as they were painted every couple of feet. Then suddenly the fog lifted—for just a moment—and in the far distance we could see a beautiful and green land. Kelly and I both gasped. It was as if we had seen Brigadoon or the Emerald City—a glimpse of some magical fairyland. As quickly as the window through the fog opened, it closed again, but this gave us hope that we were headed somewhere special, that there was a way out of this desolate moonscape. We actually had more than three hours to walk from the top of the Sefinenfurke to the little inn at Golderli. The scree was finally replaced by farmland. We passed an icy stream and then some remote farm buildings. It was a beautiful valley. The fog cleared and we even saw cows in the distance, grazing on the hillside. We barely paused to drink some water. It was late, after 6 pm, and we still had a way to go. We passed an older couple, hiking in shorts, headed up toward the Sefinenfurke. They laughed at my wool cap, and I realized I didn’t need it any more. Finally we reached a road and followed it on down the Kiental valley to the tiny hamlet of Golderi. Our lodging for tonight is the Berggasthaus Golderli, a descent of over 3800 feet from the Sefinenfurke. The proprietor met us at the door of the little guesthouse. We could see all the other guests already at dinner in the big family-style dining room. They had apparently watched us coming down the road. We quickly took our things up to our simple room and joined the others at dinner. Places at been set for us with our friends Al, Kris and Phil, who were beginning to get worried about us. It was good to see Kris and Phil again after a couple of days. The Scottish family was eating nearby, and we were also glad to saw the German couple. All these friends! The meal was good and filling—big pieces of beef for the main course—especially the big mugs of cold beer. Once I was sitting still after so many hours of steady walking, I could feel my knee tightening up. After dinner I whispered to Charley that I was having a problem with my knee and wasn’t sure what I would be able to do tomorrow. The next day was supposed to be the toughest day of all—about ten miles and a very steep 4500 foot ascent to Hohturli (9114 feet), the highest point in the entire Alpine Pass walk. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Kelly, because I knew she would jump at the opportunity to take a bus, especially after the trauma on the Sefinenfurke. I told Charley that I wanted him to walk—perhaps with Al—even if Kelly and I didn’t do the normal walk the next day. We had a private room—very rustic—but the bathroom facilities were shared with everyone else on the floor. We didn’t take a shower tonight. It was interesting to brush our teeth at the sink with these other travelers, and the set-up didn’t encourage a long stay in the toilet! Our room had two sets of bunk beds and a dresser. Beneath the window was a heavy coiled rope—the fire escape! One week from today we will be home in Knoxville, Tennessee after 14 months in Europe. We’ve been so busy with the walk—and the excitement of experiencing new places every day—that we’ve barely talked about the fact that our long trip is almost over. We have a sense of excitement about going home… seeing family and friends, having the chance to make our lives different in some important ways… but it’s also sad that this adventure is coming to an end. Initially we had planned to do this walk a few weeks before the end of the trip and then spend the last week in Munich. Now I’m glad we decided to end the long trip with the walk. It’s ending it on a high note, in an absolutely beautiful place, accomplishing something as a family. We went to sleep to the sounds of cow bells drifting through our open window. The Sefinenfurke seemed a long way away. Friday, August 5 (Golderli to Kandersteg) I woke up realizing my knee was almost locked up. There was no way I could walk ten miles over a giant mountain today. Kelly was still asleep, but I told Charley I couldn’t do it and needed to pursue a Plan B. I studied the maps and the Sherpa information and thought that Kelly and I could walk a couple of miles down the valley to the village of Kiental, then take a bus to Kandersteg. That way we could get a bit of exercise and fill our day. Meanwhile, Charley could continue the walk and climb up over Hohturli. As expected, Kelly was excited about having an easier day. We shared our plan with Al over breakfast, and he and Charley decided to hike together. In Lauterbrunnen after I fell, Al had mentioned that he had a knee brace, which I declined to use at that point. It turned out that he had brought the brace with him to Golderli, just in case I needed it, so today I was happy to take it. I hoped the combination of the easy day and the knee brace would be good for me. Al also gave me some pain relievers. Thank goodness for Al! I was glad he was going to walk with Charley, as I thought it was good for Charley to have someone to walk with, especially on such a difficult day. We also ate breakfast with Kris and Phil, who said this was their favorite day of the walk. Today is Kris’ birthday, and they had planned their schedule so they could do this particular day on her birthday. We were glad it was a nice day. Kelly and I took a photo of Charley and Al out front of the little lodge at Golderli, and then they headed up the road while Kelly and I studied the big map posted across the street. We decided to take a route on a trail called the Wildwasserweg (wild water path), then head down the valley past a lake called the Tschingelsee to Kiental. It was actually kind of nice to have an easy day, and Kelly and I settled into a comfortable companionship—I felt good about this happy mother/daughter day. Right next to the Beggasthaus Golderli is a big llama farm, and we paused to watch the llamas and take photos. They were very skittish and wouldn’t come near us. We had asked the innkeeper about the llamas, and apparently this is just a big breeding farm. I wasn’t sure if they are sold for their wool, as pack animals, or just as pets. It was definitely interesting to see them—a hundred or more—grazing in the fields around our little inn. The Wildwasserweg was a unique route through the woods, passing alongside a stream and several impressive waterfalls. One area of swirling water was called the Hexenkessel or “witches cauldron.” A postbus route ran along the tiny road, and buses passed us a couple of times. This stretch of road apparently has a 28% grade—the steepest in Europe—and they have special buses just for this route. I was glad we were walking instead of riding in the bus. As we came out of the woods, mountains rose up all around us, many topped with snow. We wondered how Charley and Al were doing with their conquest of Hohtürli. Our path then followed along a dried-up lake called the Tshingelsee—a depressing-looking place—then through the woods and along a stretch of road to Kiental. We must have walked about two hours. We found the tourist information office at Kiental, and the woman there suggested we take the bus to Reichenbach, where we could then get a bus or train to Kandersteg. The postbus stop was right outside the tourist office, and the posted schedule said it was about an hour and a half until the next bus. I wondered if we could walk to Reichenbach, but Kelly (no surprise!) thought this was a good place to get a snack. There was an inn up the street, and we sat outside and had drinks and shared a sandwich. Kelly, of course, had a book to read. We took the bus down the hill to the Reichenbach train station and tried to figure out our next step. The schedule information at the station was confusing, and there didn’t seem to be a ticket office. A bus driver told us that we would need to take a bus to Kandersteg. We had another wait. I was anxious to be doing something—my knee was feeling fine, and we’d spent a lot of time today just waiting. The bus driver also told us how to pronounce Kandersteg… more like Konderstaag. Finally the bus came and we were on our way to Kandersteg. Basically we went down the valley, around the end of the mountain, and then up the next valley to Kandersteg, while Charley just climbed over the mountain. Kandersteg is a larger village—attractive, with quite a few shops, restaurants and hotels. Our bus dropped us at the train station, and we walked down the main street to our hotel, the Hotel Bernerhof. It had turned out to be a very pretty day, and we hoped Charley was enjoying his walk. There’s a big international scouting center in Kandersteg, so we saw lots of young people from many different countries. Kelly was quite enthusiastic about all the shops. We liked our hotel. We were reunited with our bags, and the hotel owner even brought them up to our room. We have a little two room corner suite—a sitting room and a bedroom. The sitting room couch turns into a bed. There are balconies with chairs off both the rooms, so we can enjoy the mountain views in two directions. Kelly and I showered, and then went out to explore those shops. Kelly wanted to get a birthday gift for Kris, plus she’s always looking out for something to buy for herself. We found a pretty scarf for Chris’ birthday and got her a card too. When we got back to the hotel, Charley had arrived. He was pretty pumped up from his walk— an exciting, though very strenuous day. He said that I would have had a difficult time, even without my knee problems, because of the steepness. He and Al had walked most of the way together, and they stopped for a beer at a beautiful mountain lake up above Kandersteg. We had dinner with Al in the nice hotel dining room. Kris and Phil sat separately from us tonight since it was Kris’ special night. They had asked to switch their dinner nights so they could order off the menu tonight for Kris’ birthday and have the set meal tomorrow. Kelly was excited to give Kris her birthday gift, and I think Kris was touched to get a present from our family. Our meal was very good. Although we don’t have to eat here tomorrow night, we all decided we wanted to. The hotel also has a little internet station, so I had a chance to check my e-mail. I keep trying to push out of my mind that our trip is almost over. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2006:/blog/kaydee//9.934 2006-02-11T21:41:36Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

Other photos for Munich and Lucerne are posted here. Our trip was nearing its end as we left St. Gilgen, Austria for two shorter stays in Munich, Germany and Lucerne, Switzerland. We were building our energy for the grand...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com Other photos for Munich and Lucerne are posted here. Our trip was nearing its end as we left St. Gilgen, Austria for two shorter stays in Munich, Germany and Lucerne, Switzerland. We were building our energy for the grand finale of our grand tour-- a 100 mile walk in the Swiss Alps. Saturday, July 23 - St. Gilgen to Munich We were up early to finish our final packing in our St. Gilgen apartment. Charley had spoken to Theo the caretaker, and we left behind food and some clothes that he will get to a needy family. We also doubled the size of the apartment library with a great supply of books and left behind the Rummikub game that we’ve enjoyed since Provence. Our luggage continues to shrink as we get closer to our Swiss walk. We left the keys in the apartment and drove down to the village for breakfast. We’ve really enjoyed staying in St. Gilgen and definitely will come back here again. We picked a café for breakfast (juice, coffee, rolls, meat and cheese), had a leisurely meal and then one last look at the village. Charley and Kelly stopped in a drugstore looking for shampoo. While I waited outside the shop, a woman walked by with her little dog. The dog was trotting along carrying a rolled up newspaper in its mouth. The paper was about the size of the dog! We took a different route to the autobahn (by Fuschl) and then headed toward Munich. This was the last journey of our 14-month trip that we made by car. About an hour from Salzburg we exited the autobahn for a brief detour at Bad Aibling. My parents lived in this village when I was born, and I lived here for a few months when I was a baby. (I was actually born at a military hospital in Munich.) My dad was in the army, stationed in Bad Aibling, and my parents lived in the village—not on the base. I think they actually rented a room in a woman’s house—they were just 22 and 20 when I was born, so very young and having their first of many European experiences. We returned to the USA before I was a year old, but I grew up knowing about Bad Aibling and Bavaria and perhaps that is one reason I feel such a strong connection there.]]> Hotel Acanthus! Not one wrong turn! We got to a point in the city where Charley and I both knew actually where we were, and then we just “followed our noses” to the Hotel Acanthus. I know my way around the city where I was born! This is our fourth family time in Munich (my fifth… well, sixth if you count my being-born time!) and our second time at the Hotel Acanthus. We really like this hotel. It’s an intimate hotel, located on a very quiet side street near the Sendlinger Tor. The location is great, though, because you can walk to the main square (the Marienplatz) in just about ten minutes. The public transportation system in Munich is also excellent. We pulled our car up in front of the hotel and were greeted by Greg, the American expatriate who runs the front desk. We remembered him from our January 2004 trip. Greg gave Charley directions to the car rental return place near the airport. Charley didn’t think it made sense for all of us to go there and then pay for the three of us to take the train back to the hotel, so he planned to return the car on his own. After his success navigating into Munich, he was very confident—almost cocky—that he could find his way to the airport on his own. Kelly and I made a few trips upstairs in the tiny elevator to get our luggage up to our room. We had a comfortable triple room, very pleasant and clean with a great bathroom. We unpacked a bit, since we will be here for three nights. We decided to walk to the main train station (the Hauptbahnhof) to buy our tickets to Zurich on Tuesday. It felt good to be back in Munich again, and fun to be here in warmer weather for once. We stopped in a large sports store on the main pedestrian street and found the hiking department—a big department. There were lots of things we could use on our walking trip. We managed to restrain ourselves, but did buy a waterproof map carrying case (ours is just about useless since wet ink has bled all over the inside) and a pair of hiking gloves to Kelly. She says that she needs them so she doesn’t get blisters on her hands while using the walking poles. We were excited to see that the streets of Munich were decorated with large, brightly painted lions. Munich is having a “Lion Parade” in 2005/2006, just like the painted cows in Chicago and the bears we had in Knoxville a few years ago. Later I read that they plan to have almost 500 lions all over Munich—two different styles of lions. Apparently Munich was founded in 1158 by “Henry the Lion,” since obviously there are no wild lions in Germany! The painted lions were all so colorful and very clever. Kelly and I got caught up in taking photos of every lion we saw. We used the automated kiosk at the train station to buy our tickets to Zurich. Kelly has become very adept in figuring out these foreign ticket machines. From the busy train station, we walked across the street to the huge Easy Internet Café—over 400 computers here! We hadn’t checked our e-mail for a few days. Charley met us at the internet café. He was keyed up from his successful drive to the car rental place and then his solo trip back to Munich by train. We all like Munich, but Charley is especially happy to be back here. We walked around Munich a bit, and then headed back to the hotel. We had passed a Pizza Hut on the way to the hotel, and decided to make tonight’s dinner a treat for Kelly. So here we were back in Munich, having our first dinner at Pizza Hut. We told her this would be the last time for “American fast food” until we are back at home. Sunday, July 24 - Munich We slept in a bit and had breakfast at the Acanthus. The hotel has an attractive breakfast room and an extensive spread of breads, meats, cheese, and other delicacies. Charley loves the German breakfasts. It was an overcast but warm day. I carried an umbrella, just in case. It is fun to be here in the summertime, since we’ve always visited in late fall or winter. Our main destination today was the Deutsches Museum, one of the largest museums of science and technology in the world. We visited here in 1997, but Kelly was small and didn’t remember much. She and Charley are much more interested in science and technology than I am. The museum is located on an island in the River Isar. Kelly begged to take the bus, but we decided the walk would be good for us. Plus, I wanted to stop at the Marienplatz, hopefully arriving in time to see the morning “performance” of the Glockenspiel at the town hall. We passed several more painted lions and stopped to take pictures. Then I heard the 43 bells of the Glockenspiel beginning its daily 11 am show, and encouraged Charley and Kelly to move more quickly. We joined a crowd of tourists was gathered in the Marienplatz, all of us looking up at the old clock tower of the impressive Neues Rathaus, the new town hall which was built between 1867and 1908. The Glockenspiel has two scenes involving 32 life-sized mechanical figurines that dance around for ten or fifteen minutes while everyone watches and takes photos. Then as the show ends, the crowd starts moving again. We wandered on down the beautiful square, stopping to admire more lions, taking photos, and enjoying being back in this familiar city. At the far end of the Marienplatz is the distinctive tower of the Altes Rathaus, the old city hall built in 1345. The Altes Rathaus now hosts a Spielzeugmuseum or Toy Museum, and the sign said there was a special exhibit of teddy bears. Kelly and I decided we want to visit this. Charley decided that he’d rather enjoy one of his favorite pastimes: “watching the world go by.” The museum was interesting, though Charley wouldn’t have enjoyed it, so it was good we saved the money on his admission. We rode a tiny elevator up to the top floor of the tower and then worked our way down each of the small floors. We learned a lot about how the teddy bear developed as such a famous toy (associated with U.S. President Teddy Roosevelt). Germany continues to be a major source for high-quality toy bears. We met back up with Charley on the square. The day had cleared a bit, and we continued on our leisurely journey to the Deutsches museum. Just beyond the Altes Rathaus, we stopped in the oldest church in Munich, the Peterskirche. The church was originally built in 1180. It burned in 1327 and was rebuilt, then was destroyed again in World War II. We went on side, where Sunday services were still underway. A few other people were quietly looking at the ornate interior. We sat in the back and listened to the music for a while, pleased to see that there were quite a few people attending the service. Beyond the Marienplatz, we passed through the impressive Isator or the Isar Gate, part of the old defensive system for the city. We also stopped to get Kelly some lunch at a Burger King—despite our intention yesterday that the Pizza Hut would be our last American fast-food meal. We sat outside. Charley and I were still full of our big breakfast, but we did share some good French fries. Finally we arrived at the Deutsches Museum and bought our tickets. As we often do in museums, we split up once we were inside. I headed off in one direction, and Charley and Kelly went together. We are interested in different things, and I tend to move much more quickly through this type of museum. I picked out a couple of rooms that interested me and headed off on my own agenda. I especially liked a room about bridge-building, which featured several bridges we have seen on this trip and others—like the Pont du Gard in France. I also liked the exhibit on railways, which included a big exhibit hall filled with old rail engines and cars. I stopped in a small room to wait for a demonstration of a very elaborate model railway and briefly intersected with Charley and Kelly. We had decided to meet up in an hour and a half. I was finished with my solo tour a bit early. Charley and Kelly weren’t ready to leave, so I decided to go on back to the hotel on my own. It was fun to walk back through the city on my own—more than a mile back to the hotel. I like the feeling that I can be in a foreign city on my own. On the way back to the hotel—on a shopping street called Sendlinger Strasse—I decided to visit the beautiful church St. John Nepomuk, known as the Asamkirche. (A church service had been underway when we passed by in the morning, so we weren’t able to go inside.) This church is an incredible building that is very easy to pass by—it’s built right into a row of shops. But if you look closely, this building is distinctive because of its ornate exterior. The Asam brothers bought several buildings on this block between 1729 and 1733 and then converted two of them into an amazing rococo church (originally intended as a private chapel)… intimate and very very lavish. Silver and gold almost drip through the interior. This is considered one of the finest rococo churches in the world, yet because of its inauspicious exterior in an unexpected location, many people simply pass it by. I checked my e-mail at the PC in the front lobby of the Acanthus and chatted with Greg for a while, then went back upstairs to work on my blog and wait for Charley and Kelly. They were full of excitement about everything they had seen at the Deutsches Museum. We had dinner tonight at the Augustiner Bierhall, one of our Munich traditions. This big restaurant and beerhall is located on the main pedestrian street (Neuhauser Straße), between the Marienplatz and the Hauptbahnhof. The Augustiner Restaurant is a much more peaceful place to eat traditional German food, and we had good meals at a reasonable price. I had sauerbraten and Charley had sausages. Other than goulash soup, Kelly doesn’t care for many of the German dishes, so it’s a good thing she had Burger King for lunch. We had a friendly waitress tonight. Monday, July 25 - Munich We awoke to a rainy day. We had talked about going to Schloss Nymphenburg today, but scratched that plan due to weather. After breakfast at the hotel, we talked about possible plans for the day. I decided to stay in most of the day and work on my Umbria blog. Charley and Kelly headed out to have a Munich adventure, maybe to go to one of the art museums. Since we’ve been here so many times, we decided to have a low key day, a bit of a rest day as we gear up for our walk in the Swiss Alps. The hotel has wireless internet, and I bought 24 hours of access and borrowed a wireless card. I ended up working in the room most of the day… actually had a decent day on my own. This was my last chance to do a major posting to the blog while we are in Europe. Charley and Kelly arrived back mid-afternoon, bringing me a sandwich. They didn’t have too much to report and hadn’t gone to the art museum after all. They did some shopping, and went back to the big sports shop to exchange Kelly’s hiking gloves. Tonight we had dinner at the Hofbrauhaus. The rain had stopped, but it was still very overcast. I remember the first time I was in Munich with my friends Cheryl and Ginny we walked all around the center of Munich trying to find the Hofbrauhaus. Now our family can walk right to it. It’s one of those famous places that every tourist heads to—just as we have on previous trips. The Hofbrauhaus seats over 2,000 people and was packed tonight. They even have their own gift shop selling Hofbrauhaus souvenirs. We wandered around for a while looking for a table. I would have liked to sit where we could see the band (and maybe some dancing), but it was especially crowded there. A waiter tried to point us toward an outdoor beer garden, but I was afraid it would rain… and then where would we go? We ended up sitting at a table with a German couple. We were too far from the band to watch them, but we still had all the “benefit” of the music—and noise. There were lots of Japanese tourists. I was amazed that the waiters and waitresses can even keep up with their tables. The food is decent—large portions and reasonably priced. Of course Charley and I had big mugs of the famous Hofbrauhaus beer. We all ate big pretzels, placed on the table in baskets like bread. (But not free like bread—you pay for the pretzels as you eat them.) We all had goulash soup. Charley and I had sausage plates and Kelly had chicken. It was a good meal, but I don’t think I’ll come here again. I prefer the quieter, not-quite-so-touristy atmosphere of the Augustiner. Tuesday, July 26 - Munich to Lucerne Breakfast was served at the Acanthus beginning at 6:30 am, and we were there waiting. We carried our luggage downstairs when we went down to breakfast and asked the nice woman at the front desk to have a cab for us at ten minutes of seven. It was only about five minutes to the station by cab, and we had a few minutes to wait until our track was posted. It was a four-and-a-half hour train ride from Munich to Zurich. We read and enjoyed looking at the scenery. Charley slept. Kelly worked much of the time on a summer project she’s supposed to have for school back home. She has picked out photos from all parts of our trip and is making a scrapbook that will show our trip from A to Z. We actually took the train all the way to the Zurich airport, a bit beyond the main station. I wanted to buy special passes for the Swiss transportation system, and these have to be bought at an entry point to Switzerland. There was a Swiss Travel Office at the airport. We were interested to see that Zurich had its bears, just as Munich had the lions. A very nice man in the Travel office waited on me. I explained our plans, and he recommended a pass called the Swiss Half-Fare Card. The card gives Charley and me a 50% discount on almost all public transportation in Switzerland (trains, city and rural buses, boats, mountain railways). We paid a small amount to get a different card for Kelly; now she will travel for free. The man sold me my first tickets using the cards, for our train to Lucerne. We had some time before our train, so we went to a big food court in the airport/train station and ordered a couple of things from an expensive Italian stand. Kelly is always happy to have pizza. Then it was time for our train—just a 45 minute ride to Lucerne. Kelly was excited about this trip because the train passed through Zug, where her Provence friend Alayna was born. I visited Lucerne in 1991 and then we came as a family in 1997. I remembered more about the trips up to the top of the nearby mountains (Rigi in 1991 and Pilatus in 1997) than I remembered about Lucerne itself. I had difficulty finding a moderately priced accommodation, and finally booked the Pension Villa Maria, a small B&B type place. We arrived at the station and picked up a free map of Lucerne. I found the Pension Villa Maria on the other side of the lake, and it didn’t look too far from the station. We decided to walk instead of taking a cab. The station is right in the middle of the town, which is right on the lake. The ferry docks were actually just across the street from the station, and there seemed to be tourists everywhere. Lucerne is really a town—not a city—with a population of about 61,000. There might have been 50,000 tourists here today. The German name for the town is Luzern, and what we call Lake Lucerne is really called the Vierwaldstättersee. (Charley and I find it very interesting that we “change” the names of places when they are translated into English.) The wooden bridge across the lake is so simple and beautiful. About half-way across the lake, a stone water tower stands nearby. We headed across the lake and then down the street toward the Villa Maria. It turned out to be quite a bit farther than it looked on the map. Thank goodness we had managed to cut back so much of our luggage. We struggled on our way, stopping occasionally to rest. Finally—just beyond the casino—we found the Villa Maria, a pleasant looking house on the lakeside. Maria herself greeted us—a friendly and jovial woman who spoke good English. She showed us to our large triple room on the second floor, overlooking the back garden. The room included a sink and a shower, but not a toilet! We have to use a toilet in the hallway, shared with one or two other rooms. The information had said private shower, but it never occurred to me to ask about a private toilet, which I know is important to Charley. Oh well, it is just for two nights, so we will make it work. The shower is actually inserted into a closet—even has a window! As we were dragging out suitcases against the walls, Kelly let out a horrifying wail. “My Venice bag!” She didn’t have one of her bags… a shoulder bag she had bought in Venice with a tapestry-type scene of Venice. The bag was a loss, but more important was what was in it—the school project she had been working so hard on and her colored pencils and other supplies. She burst into tears. All her work, plus the bag she liked so much and her colored pencils. We decided to go back to the train station and see if we could locate the bag. As we reconstructed our day, Kelly thought she had the bag when we had lunch at the Zurich airport. She thought she left it on the train between Zurich and Lucerne. There was a bus stop right across the street from the Villa Maria, so we decided to take advantage of our passes and take the bus this time instead of another long walk. We found a lost-and-found counter at the station, but the Venice bag had not been turned in. The woman told us we could file a lost-and-found report on the SBB site on the internet. We found an expensive (very expensive) internet center at the tourist office and I managed to file a report within the 15 minutes of computer time I purchased. We also picked up some tourist brochures. Kelly was still upset about the loss of her bag and all the work she would have to potentially repeat, but we tried to stay positive that the bag would be turned in. Since we were back at the center of the city, we took the opportunity to walk around Lucerne. It was a somewhat overcast day. The town is situated around the lake… very attractive, with colorful buildings. There are two old famous covered bridges that cross the lake and a stone water tower in the lake. There were lots of swans—and lots of tourists. We decided to have an early dinner before going back to the Villa Maria. I had a directory of restaurants from the tourist office, and Kelly and I wanted to try to have fondue. Surprisingly, there weren’t too many fondue restaurants in Lucerne—the selection of restaurants was quite cosmopolitan, and many were very expensive. We walked over to one place that sounded interesting in the restaurant list, but the fondue dishes were very expensive and the place seemed filled with Japanese tourists. (The menu was posted outside in several languages, including Japanese—not the sign of an inexpensive local place!) We wandered around the streets, looking at the menus of various places, hoping to find something that would be reasonably priced and would work for all of us. In the process of wandering, we did walk down to the Weinmarkt, the pretty square where our 1997 hotel (the Hotel Krone) is located. It had just been too expensive for us this time. We finally ended up in a place described as “traditional Swiss” that had fondue on the menu. The owners might have been from the Philippines, and once we were seated I decided the fondue was too expensive for our budget. We had an okay meal, but nothing really special. We walked back to the Villa Maria along the lake. There was a huge festival underway in the lakeside park—booths selling clothes and jewelry, food stands, loud music… lots of people. The signs said this was the “Blue Balls” music festival. It was very, very crowded and noisy. I would have preferred to just skip the route through the festival, but Kelly was intrigued by the jewelry stands. Charley had promised Kelly we’d buy her a good silver bracelet for her birthday a week ago, and she’s been on the lookout since we were in Salzburg. She actually found the ideal bracelet at one of the stands, but we decided we’d look around a bit to be sure it was the right one. The festival is apparently continuing for a few days. We made our way back to the Villa Maria and read in our room until bedtime. Kelly was still distraught at the loss of her Venice bag. We had left Charley’s fan (the second one he bought on this trip) behind in St. Gilgen, since it was too difficult to transport when traveling by train, so we had to have the windows open to keep the room cool. Even though our room faced the back, there was still quite a bit of noise from the street… festival noise, buses, and even a train. Charley slept in the little twin bed by the window to get the breeze, so Kelly shared the big bed with me. Wednesday, July 27 - Lucerne We ate our breakfast in one of the two indoor breakfast rooms at Maria’s—breads, cheeses, meats, cereal… that Germanic breakfast we like so much. Kelly took cornflakes with no milk, which Maria found very funny. It was a much prettier day, and several people were eating out in the garden. Maria seemed to have a full house. She was very friendly, moving between the tables, and greeting everyone. She seems to speak fluent German, English and Italian. I like to be around people like Maria who really belong in the hospitality business. She told us the house has ten rooms. I lobbied very hard with my family to do the trip up to Mount Rigi, one of several mountain excursions that are accessible from Lucerne. I had done this trip in December 1991 on my first trip to Europe with two girlfriends. Neither of them wanted to do the mountain trip (they wanted to shop), so I ended up going up the mountain by myself. Now I wanted Charley and Kelly to make the trip, though neither of them seemed very interested. I didn’t want to just poke around Lucerne all day. I finally persuaded Charley and Kelly to do the Rigi trip and talked with Maria about the logistics. We were able to buy our tickets from her using our 50% cards (free for Kelly). We recouped a big portion of the cost of the cards, since the mountain excursion (involving a boat, mountain train, and cable car) would otherwise have been very expensive. We had some time before the boat, so we took the bus downtown to find a less expensive internet place to check the SBB Lost and Found. Still no word on the Venice bag. Kelly insisted that she couldn’t wait to start her school project (school starts just three days after we get home), so we broke down and bought her another scrapbook and more colored pencils. After looking in several stores, we found these things in a stationery store, but they are much more expensive than they would be in America. It was an absolutely gorgeous day—a bright blue sky. On a day like this, Lucerne just seems to sparke with color… the brightly-painted buildings, the wooden bridges, the blue lake, the white swans, and the snow-topped mountains in the distance. The massive Mt. Pilatus—at almost 7,000 feet—was especially impressive. We took the bus back to the villa where we put up our packages. Maria directed us to walk a bit further down the street where there is a big recreational park and a boat dock, so we didn’t have to go back to the center of town to catch our boat. We didn’t have to wait long for the steamer, and it was a very pleasant trip down the lake to the lakeside village of Vitznau. At Vitznau we walked across the street and boarded a cogwheel train… and waited, and waited, and waited! I’m not sure why the boat and train schedules weren’t better coordinated, but we must have waited at least 45 minutes. We sat near an Asian family with three small children who have been living in Britain; Charley chatted with the father. Kelly left the train at one point to go get a snack. Finally we were on our way up the mountain. Rigi is a skiing mountain in the winter and a hiking mountain in the summer. When I was here in December 199, it was covered with snow and there were skiers. Now there are wildflowers and hikers... and I have a husband and 12 year old daughter. The railway is the oldest mountain railway in Europe and was built in the mid 1800’s. The train headed steeply up the mountain, stopping at a few very isolated stations. At one station (really just a platform) a young family with a baby got off with a couple of suitcases. I couldn’t imagine where they might be going. We went all the way to the top, to Rigi Kulm at 5906 feet. It was a beautiful day—such a blue sky—and the views were clear and spectacular. To the east we could see the Zugersee and the town of Zug, and then to the north and west, the Vierwaldstättersee and Lucerne. We had lunch at a little cafeteria next to the train tracks at the top. We sat outside and enjoyed the beautiful day. Charley and I had good cold beers and Kelly had one of the Almdudler soft drinks that she discovered in Austria. Kelly had pasta, and Charley and I goulash soup and bread. We decided to walk down the mountain to another station, where we could catch a cable car back down to the lake. It would have been better training for our upcoming 100 mile walk to have walked up the mountains, but hey—we’re on vacation! First, though, we walked up to the very top of Rigi. There were two routes to the top. Kelly took the steeper route, while Charley and I chose the more gradual ascent. We wandered around at the top of Rigi for a while first, admiring the views in all directions. There were several big cutouts of Swiss characters, and we poked our heads through the holes and took photos. There is a big communications tower at the peak, and Kelly and I climbed up as far as we could go and took more photos. We hiked down to Rigi Kaltbad, about an hour’s walk, passing a field of donkeys and cows near the top. The trail initially went alongside the train track, but then split off to a point with a rock chapel and an absolutely beautiful view of the Vierwaldstättersee and the mountains. Eventually we emerged at a small mountain resort area with a couple of hotels and restaurants—even a miniature golf course. I knew Charley was a little hesitant about the cable car, but his fear of heights has lessened, and he said he was fine to do it. The big cable car seemed almost totally packed, including a group of schoolchildren. The ride took about seven minutes. Every time the car went by one of the huge poles, there was a dropping sensation, and the children squealed. I tried not to look at Charley. Good for him, though—at the beginning of the trip he would not have been able to do this. The cable car arrived down at another attractive lakeside village—Weggis. We followed a path down to the village center and then waited for the boat at the station. It was a pretty trip back down the lake to Lucerne. Charley and Kelly both said they were glad we had done this day trip—far better, I think, than just spending a day looking around Lucerne. This definitely got me psyched for hiking in the mountains. We stopped briefly at the Villa Maria to use the bathroom and then took the bus back to the center of Lucerne. I stopped in the internet place again (near our 1997 hotel) to check the SBB Lost and Found—still nothing. There was a Christian youth group—quite good—singing in one of the squares. We watched for a while and walked around the center of Lucerne, browsing in a couple of shops. None of us were all that hungry and knew that we wouldn’t want to come back all this way for dinner. We headed back to the Villa Maria, walking back through the busy festival area. Kelly got a bowl of Asian noodles at one of the food stands, and we bought her the silver bracelet that we had looked at yesterday. We took a longer route back along the waterfront, stopping to watch the ducks and then the sunset. Kelly and I chatted a bit with Maria in her kitchen when we got back. We told her about our trip, and she was impressed that Kelly had gone to school in France. I showed her my arm from the sled accident in St. Gilgen. It looks absolutely awful now that almost a week has passed—over half of my arm below my elbow is black and blue, and I have a huge knot near the elbow. Maria told a story about a fall she had—broke several bones, but still continued to run her B&B. We are all getting very excited—apprehensive—about our 100-mile walk in the Alps. Our 190-mile walk across England was a challenge because it was so long, and there were certainly some difficult days. But the mountains in the Alps are much higher and steeper—I hope we are up for this! We were in great shape when we left Provence because we did so much hiking there, but we ate a lot of pasta and pizza in Italy and didn’t hike like we had planned due to the heat… at least that’s what we say! Thursday morning, July 28 - Lucerne I awoke about 6:30 this morning to sounds of traffic on the road outside the Villa Maria. The three of us have shared a room since we left St. Gilgen five nights ago (where Kelly’s tiny room was almost a closet off of ours), and we will share a room for the next fourteen nights. We fussed around over our suitcases, getting ready for the journey ahead. As we have continued to reduce our luggage over the past several weeks, it seems like we have fussed over our suitcases a lot. Kelly is almost compulsive about her bag. Everything is perfectly rolled and organized, and she knows just where to find every item. The plastic round tray she bought at the Stiegl Brewery in Salzburg has come in very handy. She has all her shirts rolled up in the tray and can lift it out like a drawer. Charley’s and my suitcase-packing skills pale in comparison to Kelly’s stellar organization. We had breakfast in the garden at the Villa Maria, earlier today than yesterday—juice, coffee, rolls, sausage, cheese, jam and butter. Kelly had hot chocolate and a few dry corn flakes. After breakfast we brought all our bags downstairs and stacked them up by Maria’s little reception desk. She ordered a cab for us at 1 pm, so we had a couple of hours to finish exploring Lucerne. We took the bus to the Bahnhof, a ten-minute ride from Maria’s. From the station, we walked along the lake, past the beautiful Kapellbrücke (the “Chapel Bridge”—a covered bridge built in 1333 that was seriously destroyed by fire in 1993) and the Wasserturm, a stone water tower. At this time of year, the covered bridge is bedecked with flowers—very different than when we saw it last in October 1997. Lucerne is really a beautiful city… much busier than a city (town) of 60,000 would be, but of course there are also thousands of tourists. We walked in the Jesuit church, built in 1666/67 and full of light, then continued along the lake to the Spreuerbrücke or Mill Bridge. Kelly begged to stop in another stationery store to buy a small ruler. We now seem to have replaced the major items that she lost when she left her Venice bag on the train to Lucerne. This was an expensive loss! We crossed over this second covered bridge and walked up to the Weimarket. Charley got coffee at an outdoor café while Kelly and I did one final check on the internet. It looks like the Venice bag is forever lost. Maybe some Swiss child will enjoy the pencils. Afterwards we did a little more shopping. Kelly found a pair of flowered shorts for five francs (maybe $4)… how could I say no? We also got a couple of food items for our walk… candy bars and granola bars…. energy food. Our last major stop was the famous Lion Monument, the Löwendenkmal. The monument is carved into natural rock and portrays a dying lion, supposedly representing some 700 Swiss guards who died in the French revolution. Mark Twain called the monument the "saddest and most moving piece of rock in the world.” When we were here eight years ago, Kelly was just captivated by the Lion Monument. When we arrived at the site today, there were just one or two other people there. I’m glad I took my photos right away, because within a few minutes there must have been 50 tourists. We walked back to the Villa Maria along the waterfront and had enough time to sit on a bench and watch the boats moving along the lake. The lakefront area is really beautiful… boat docks, shaded paths, beautiful gardens, even a playground. As the lunch hour began, I saw several people arrive at the sunny park in office clothes, strip down to a swim suit, and stretch out to spend their lunchtime sunbathing. We got back to Maria’s about 12:30. We quickly used the bathroom and then incorporated today’s purchases in our luggage. We carried everything out front to wait for the cab, which came a few minutes early. Our fourteen months of luggage is now condensed down to one big duffel bag (that’s not completely full), two standard suitcases, three backpacks, and a computer bag. Kelly and I both have our hiking boots hanging off our luggage. It still seems like we have a lot of stuff. After tonight we won’t have the computer bag any more. And for the next two weeks we’ll be wearing those hiking boots! ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.928 2005-12-13T19:36:01Z 2007-01-10T21:10:49Z

Photos from our two weeks in St. Gilgen are posted here. Our second week in St. Gilgen was also so special. We spent two more days in Salzburg, hiked around the lake to the village of St. Wolfgang (seen above),...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com here. Our second week in St. Gilgen was also so special. We spent two more days in Salzburg, hiked around the lake to the village of St. Wolfgang (seen above), hiked twice at a high plateau called the Postalm, and visited the Königssee outside Berchtesgaden. Kelly celebrated her 12th birthday this week-- her second birthday away from home on this trip-- and we had two days of activities in her honor. Kelly and and I did have a major misadventure riding double on a summer toboggan ride, though fortunately neither of us were too seriously hurt. At the end of the week we did some major repacking, leaving a suitcase and a variety of books, clothes and food behind us in St. Gilgen. This was our last of 20 rentals during our 14 month trip. For the next three weeks we will travel by train and on foot in Germany and Switzerland. Saturday, July 16 We were up early again today for our second Salzburg day. We started our day just outside the city at Hellbrunn Palace. We’ve just been to the edge of the grounds before (on the Sound of Music tour to see the famous “gazebo” from the movie), and I’ve always wanted to see the palace, especially the trick fountains. This is another place that was free because of our Salzburg cards. We paused briefly at the Sound of Music gazebo. It was moved here after the movie, and is probably a major tourist destination in Salzburg. Charley and Kelly acted silly and I took pictures. (“I’m eleven, going on twelve….) Hellbrunn Palace was built as a summer palace—a pleasure palace—for Archbishop Markus Sittkus who lived here from 1612 – 1619. Back then the Archbishops were more royalty than any kind of “spiritual” leader it seems. The palace has beautiful grounds and all the buildings are a vibrant mustard-yellow color. The style seems almost Italian. It’s hard to believe that the buildings are almost 500 years old. The most famous part of the palace is the trick water gardens. I had read about the gardens, but didn’t tell Charley and Kelly anything because I wanted them to enjoy the surprises in store. We were in a group of about 30 people, and toured the gardens with a guide. She conducted the hour-long tour in both German and English. The Archbishop constructed the gardens to play practical jokes on his friends and visitors. We must have seen ten different water jokes—from a table that squirts water up from the seats (no one accepted the offer to sit at the table—this one is well known) to a statue that squirted water on unsuspecting passersby. We went into a grotto and were squirted from hidden sprinklers on the way out. Kelly and I really enjoyed the gardens, but Charley didn’t like it at all. He was quite disgusted that a supposed man of God would have been so silly. Plus I don’t think Charley was at all interested in getting wet. Some of the children in our tour group got quite wet, but then of course they wanted to get wet and always stood right where the water was coming out. We walked through the beautiful gardens and then did a self-tour through the palace. This was all interesting, but the trick water garden was the show-stopper. After the palace, we drove over to the Stiegl brewery (called Stiegl’s Brauwelt - World of Beer), another destination included in our Salzburg card. This is supposed to be the largest exhibition on beer in all of Europe. The brewery was also on the outskirts of the city and a little hard to find, but worth our efforts. We did a fun self-tour of the brewery. There was a computer quiz about beer which Kelly took and she was very proud to get a certificate as a “beermeister”. My incredible eleven-year old kid—now a beer expert! At the end of the tour we got to go to a tavern and we each got two free beers and a big soft pretzel. Our nice waiter recommended an Austrian soft drink for Kelly called Almdudler, which she enjoyed. Our admission also included a special gift, and we selected beer glasses that we’ll ship home. There was a big gift shop full of Stiegl logo items, and Kelly bought herself a round plastic tray so she can serve drinks, something she says she’s always wanted. It started raining while we were in the brewery, and we decided not to go back into Salzburg, which had been our original plan. We had talked about going up to the massive Hohensalzburg Fortress that sits above the city and is really the symbol of Salzburg. The fortress was built in the 11th century and the largest, completely-preserved fortress in central Europe. We had just been there in December 2003 (actually on Christmas Day), and because of the rain we decided to just head back to St. Gilgen. Even though we didn’t do anything else in Salzburg, we still think we got a good deal with our Salzburg cards—probably got 150% value for what we paid for the cards. The woman at the Stiegl shop suggested a place to stop for lunch, but it was closed and then we couldn’t find another place nearby, so we headed back to the Salzkammergut. We stopped at the big grocery store outside Mondsee and bought a roast chicken from a man in a little truck outside, then took that home for lunch. We spent the rest of the afternoon reading in our little apartment. We’ve been on-the-go pretty aggressively the last couple of days and were happy to just have a lazy afternoon. For dinner we went into St. Gilgen and had dinner again at the Fischer Wirt restaurant on the waterfront. We had another really good meal outside on the terrace. This time I had salmon. We watched the dancers again, most of them the same couples from last Saturday night... some terrific dancers.]]> Sunday, July 17 We had another really good day today. The weather was good again, so we decided to do a long hike and walked around the lake (probably seven or eight miles) to the village of St. Wolfgang. Most of our trail was on an old pilgrimage route that hugged the end of the lake and then made quite a steep ascent around the back of the Falkenstein, passing the stations of the cross. Eventually we reached a little pilgrimage church built into the cliff. The church was built in 1626. Because it was Sunday, there were quite a few people walking today as well as people on mountain bikes. Several people—like me—struggled on the ascent. We chatted with a couple from England while we were resting on the way up. We got a chance to practice using our two walking sticks today, which I decided I like a lot. You can use them to get into a nice rhythm on the flat sections and then they help you on the way up and down. There were also a lot of people out today because the Red Bull company is sponsoring a cliff diving contest off the steep cliffs of the Falkenstein. Red Bull is headquartered not far from St. Gilgen and there were thousands of people gathering in a big viewing area and in boats out in the lake to watch the diving. We didn’t get to see the diving, as our route circled around the back of the Falkenstein peak. Then we walked down through a quiet village called Ried and eventually reached busy St. Wolfgang. We got to St. Wolfgang just about lunchtime. I had wanted to eat at Im Weissen Rössl (The White Horse Inn), a very famous hotel and restaurant where we had a very good lunch in 1999 while the regular gas was eating up our diesel engine. But today we didn’t really like the posted menu and it was very expensive. Instead we ate on the big outdoor terrace of a neighboring restaurant (Hotel Schwarzes Rossl or The Black Horse Inn) that was less expensive and had a menu that worked better for us. After lunch we walked around St. Wolfgang. It’s a busy and crowded place—especially on this Sunday in July—with lots of tourist shops. The church is especially beautiful though, because it was a very important pilgrimage church at one time. We learned that St. Wolfgang was the bishop of Regensburg who came to Mondsee in 976. He built the first chapel in St. Wolfgang, which later became a pilgrimage center for up to 70,000 pilgrims a year. The current church has sections dating from 15th to the 18th century. There’s an absolutely beautiful wood altar. We took a boat back to St. Gilgen. Our boat was over 100 years old, named the Franz Joseph after the Austrian emperor who had his summer palace down at Bad Ischl in the Salzkammergut. Charley and Kelly sat inside the cabin out of the sun, but I sat upstairs and chatted with English couple we had met on the walk, then we all struck up a conversation with another Englishman who was doing a house exchange in Salzburg. It was interesting to learn about the house exchange. For dinner tonight I fixed pasta bolognaise. It wasn’t one of my better meals. Then we sat down for what has become our nightly game of Scrabble. We’re having a good time with the game, though Kelly gets quite frustrated when she doesn’t win. We’re proud of how good she is at the game, but she wants to be an “equal” to Charley and me. Monday, July 18 We seem to be putting together a long string of very good days. Although our apartment is a bit cramped and not particularly interesting, we all agree that St. Gilgen is one of the best places we’ve stayed in our 13 months in Europe. There is so much to do here, and we are here at the perfect time of the year for a real outdoor vacation. And on top of that, the surroundings are absolutely beautiful. I love the combination of the lakes and the mountains and the Alpine villages. Today we drove down to Strobl and then took a little private toll road 12 kilometers up to an area called the Postalm. The little road went along a river, then up into the mountains. The Postalm is the largest high plateau in Austria… about 40 square kilometers. Like many of the mountains here, in the summer it’s a hiking area and in the winter it’s a ski area. There are many mountain huts scattered around the area where you can have lunch or other refreshments. We did hike up to a pretty little chapel that seats only a few people. There are several very well-marked circular walks on the Postalm, and there were quite a few people of all ages out walking today. I had a trail map in German, and we picked one of the longer routes; it was very scenic but also somewhat strenuous. I’ve gotten out of shape since our final hiking days in Provence and find myself struggling on the uphill sections. I just had too much good food in Italy, I guess. I hope I can get in better shape before our hike in Switzerland… where there will be many uphill (up-mountain) sections. Charley had made some sandwiches, and we had a picnic on some rocks by the side of the path looking across a beautiful green field. Cows and quite a few horses were grazing nearby, and as we ate, a young colt came walking down the path. Kelly was delighted. She got up and interacted with the colt for several minutes. He had no fear of her whatsoever. We really really liked the Postalm. We all want to come back again later in the week. On the way back to St. Gilgen we stopped in Strobl to do the toboggan ride again. This time Charley and I both rode double with Kelly in a bigger sled. Some parents ride double with a small child who is too young to ride alone. But when two adult-sized people go down together, the sled goes much faster. Kelly was excited, but I was really scared. It was really too fast for me, and I felt totally out of control since she was in front holding the brake stick. I must have spent half the ride shouting, “slow down, slow down,” while Kelly laughed hysterically. I fixed teriyaki chicken for dinner, using a little kit I found at the Billa grocery store. Charley loved it, but I think he may have had too much wine while he was sitting outside reading before dinner. I didn’t think it was all that good. He probably would have loved anything. Tuesday, July 19 So much for the string of great days. Today it was rainy, so we shifted to Plan B and drove back into Salzburg about 11:00 am. We parked at the garage off the Linzergasse again; it is such an easy drive in from St. Gilgen. We wanted to eat at one of our favorite restaurants in Salzburg—the Hotel Stadtkrug on the Linzergasse—but it was closed today. Darn! We did a little shopping, stopping in several bookstores to try to find an English version of the new Harry Potter book for Kelly. The book was released on July 16, so we are just a few days late. We finally found it in the fourth shop we checked—the last English copy. It was 25 euro, and we told Kelly that this was definitely an early birthday present, since I know we could find it a lot cheaper if we were willing to hold off a bit longer. She started reading almost immediately. We ended up having lunch at another one of our favorite places, a little café at the Goldener Hirsch hotel called Herzl. We’ve had our Christmas Eve lunch here twice, and it’s a comfortable place, especially on a drizzly day. Today I had goulash soup (that I shared with Kelly) and then wiener schnitzel. Charley had the daily special of cordon bleu with soup, and Kelly had beef goulash. I like the food in Austria. After lunch we went back to the Bignet internet café on Judengasse, where I worked for about three hours. They had a couple stations upstairs where you could download from a CD, so I was able to post my last Tuscany blog. I have fallen several weeks behind on my blog work. It’s been difficult these last few months without easy internet access. Kelly worked on the computer about an hour, and then she and Charley went out exploring. We drove on back to St. Gilgen. At Kelly’s request I fixed a dish I created in Tuscany—chicken and pasta with cream sauce. And then—of course—a couple more games of Scrabble. Wednesday, July 20 The weather was better today. We drove back to Berchtesgaden, this time to Lake Königssee. We went to the Königsee on our October 1997 trip, but we didn’t have enough German marks to do the full boat ride and it’s been one of those things I’ve thought about ever since—kind of like Jane Austen’s house when we arrived after closing time. At this time of year, the village of Königssee is a very busy place. The same parking lot serves people coming for both the Jenner mountain cable car and the Königsee boat. The village of Königsee is a long and very busy street of tourist shops selling various German souvenirs and clothes. We dawdled down the street looking at the various shops, focusing our search on the cropped hiking pants. We found Kelly an inexpensive pair that she liked, but I couldn’t find pants that fit me right at that store. Then we found a “real” outdoor shop. I ended up getting somewhat more expensive cropped pants and then Kelly and I both got new hiking shirts. I may struggle up the mountains, but at least I will have the right kind of outfit and two hiking poles! We had lunch at an outdoor café right down by the boat launch. Charley and I had big plates of sausages and big beers. Kelly had pasta, so she was happy. She ordered another Almdudler soft drink. Waiters seem impressed that our American child knows this drink. Most of the time we were at the restaurant, Kelly had her nose buried in her thick Harry Potter book. She barely looked at the scenery on the drive here from St. Gilgen… too intent on her book! We got tickets for a boat leaving at 2:20 pm. The Königssee (the Kings Lake) is almost 2,000 feet above sea level, and the water is crystal clear—the cleanest lake in Germany. Only electric boats, canoes and rowboats are allowed. The boats glide along the beautiful and peaceful lake, totally surrounded by mountains, including the Watzmann and the Jenner. The Watzmann is one of the most important mountains in Germany and is actually the highest mountain (8,900 feet) located solely in Germany. According to the legend, the highest peak represents the evil King Watzmann and the other peaks represent his wife and seven children. The whole family turned to stone because of king’s cruelty. Kelly was fascinated by this story when we visited in 1997 when she was 4. From the lake we could also see the Kehlsteinhaus (Eagle’s Nest) at 1843m (over 6000 feet). This was Hitler’s former diplomatic house. A visit to Eagle’s Nest was on our list of things to do, but we’ve had to drop a few activities due to a few days of bad weather, so it looks like we will save this for another time. We know we will come back to this area again. At one point on the Königssee the boat stops so the pilot can play a horn called a flügelhorn; the sound echoes off the mountain wall. The entire ride—there and back down the five mile lake—was about two hours, but it was longer for us because we got off twice. Our first stop was the little peninsula at St. Bartholomä, distinguished by its tiny 12th century chapel with three red-tipped onion domes. Next to the little chapel is a large inn that was once the hunting lodge of the Bavarian kings. We took a path out into the woods and then along the side of the Watzmann before doubling back to the inn. There were several hundred people out in the beer garden, and we joined them for beer and ice cream… what a combination! St. Bartholomä was the end of our boat ride in 1997. This time we waited for the next boat to go to a tiny outpost and inn at the very end of the lake called Salet. Then we walked about 15 minutes to another small lake surrounded by mountains—very beautiful—called the Obersee. The Obersee can only be reached on foot. Suddenly the crowds were gone. The Obersee is less than a mile long and only a third of a mile wide, with a 1300 foot waterfall called the Röthbach. This is a great area for hiking. I wish we had come out much earlier in the day so we could have done some serious hiking. We caught one of the last boats back, and it was a long ride on a crowded boat. I was glad we had caught the boat at Salet. The lines at St. Bartholomä were incredibly long. Just outside Königssee Charley and I had spotted a large McDonalds restaurant. We don’t really eat at McDonalds at home (Kelly prefers Burger King for her fast food hamburgers), but we surprised her today and asked if she wanted dinner at McDonalds. She instantly said yes, and actually we all enjoyed our meal. We’ve only had a handful of American-style fast food meals in the last year. After dinner we headed back to St. Gilgen, a drive of about an hour. Home to more Scrabble! Thursday, July 21 Kelly’s 12th birthday is not until tomorrow, but she suggested we do her birthday activities today in case it rains tomorrow. (If we were to get rained out tomorrow—our last day here—we wouldn’t get to do her activities at all.) This is her second birthday on our trip. Last year we were in Yorkshire in England. As the birthday girl, she gets to pick all the activities for the day, including the meals. She planned a full schedule. Today was a nice day, but a bit too cool for one of her potential activities—swimming down at the beach in St. Gilgen. After a late breakfast, we walked down to the St. Gilgen waterfront and rented one of the red electric boats for an hour. The boat was very quiet and not very fast, but it was a good way to cruise around the lake, and Kelly really seemed to enjoy it. Charley let her steer the boat most of the time. We went back to our place for lunch and some quiet time, and then headed off for another birthday activity: the summer toboggan ride in Strobl. Kelly has become totally infatuated with this ride. She rode a couple of times by herself, and then begged for the two of us to ride double again. After the last experience—which I found quite terrifying—I really didn’t want to go again. But she begged and begged and promised she wouldn’t go fast…. plus it was her birthday… so I finally said yes. This was a big mistake. About half-way down the mountain we had a terrible crash—actually flew off the track. It all happened so fast. One minute we were flying down the mountain, me shouting “slow down, slow down,” and Kelly laughing as we went into a curve. We must have been going too fast and perhaps with the two of us, we didn’t lean exactly the right way going through the curve. The next thing I knew we were both on the side of the track. Kelly was screaming, “my ear, my ear!!” I managed to pull the sled off the side of the track, unsure if anyone was behind us coming down the hill, which would have been an even worse situation. I tried to look at Kelly’s ear, which she was holding while she was screaming. I had no idea if she had possibly ripped her ear off and if blood would come pouring out when she moved her hand. She wouldn’t let me touch her, just kept screaming that it was all my fault for not leaning correctly. (Of course, I was equally convinced it was all her fault for going too fast and that she shouldn’t have begged me to go double against my better judgment.) This was not one of our better mother-daughter moments… actually maybe one of our very worst. I tried to scream for Charley—who was waiting for us down below, ready to take our picture at the very end—but we were fairly high up on the hill and not at all visible from below. Fortunately no one was right behind us. Finally a small Indian girl came down the hill going very slowly and just waved at us, no idea that we were crash victims. I got Kelly to move her hand, and fortunately there wasn’t any blood on her ear. She did have a little scratch on her cheek and both of us hurt badly, but we managed to get the sled back on the track and both of us on it, and then cruised slowly to the bottom. There was Charley, taking our picture, wondering what had taken us so long but totally oblivious that we’d had any kind of accident. Kelly had one more ride left on the toboggan and she did go again, but I was shell-shocked. What if one of our hands had ended up underneath a runner of the sled? What if someone had come down behind us while we were still sprawled half-on and half-off the track? I realized how badly we could have been hurt, and suddenly I had a view of how a victim of a car accident must feel. Everything just happens so quickly… one second things are fine, and the next second the world changes. We drove home quietly, the excitement of the birthday celebration definitely dampened. We poked around at the apartment… we all have books going. Kelly is nearing the end of Harry Potter and Charley and I both have quite a few books left from our last purchase at the Paperback Exchange in Florence. Charley really enjoys sitting out on the little terrace. For dinner we walked down to the village to the Chinese restaurant. This was Kelly’s choice for her birthday dinner. We were surprised to find a Chinese restaurant in St. Gilgen, run by a Chinese family. It was actually very good, though not exactly cheap. The restaurant wasn’t doing a booming business, but there were several other customers and it was a pleasant environment with friendly service. Kelly’s last request for the day was to play a couple of games of Scrabble. We’ve really enjoyed the Scrabble games here… a nice change from the Rummikub game that we’ve had with us the past year. Friday, July 22 Today is Kelly’s real birthday—our little girl is now 12 years old and not little any more. We had her wrapped gifts at the breakfast table: two candy bars, a stuffed hedgehog, and the beautiful bound journal that she had picked out at a paper shop in Assisi. This year because of our traveling schedule, there aren’t any gifts or cards from anyone else but us, but Kelly doesn’t seem to mind this and is enjoying her second birthday away from home. Her Harry Potter book was another big present, which she’s now already finished. Today we went back to the Postalm for another hike. I was surprised that Kelly actually agreed to go hiking on her real birthday, as she claims to not enjoy the hiking. But we all enjoyed the environment of the Postalm, and of course this was our only chance to go back. We hiked off in another direction today… maybe six miles… and saw a different part of the plateau. I love the Postalm—what a find! It’s absolutely beautiful up there… totally surrounded by mountains and so very green with lots of wildflowers this time of year. In one spot the ground was covered with what seemed to be wild roses. We had a picnic lunch again. Kelly wanted to eat five minutes after we set out on the hike. Rather than argue about it, we just found some rocks on the side of the path and lightened our load. Later we also stopped at one of the mountain huts for a snack. I had goulash soup, which was quite good. I ended up sharing my bowl with Kelly, who has become quite fond of goulash soup, though she doesn’t like potatoes if those are included in the recipe. On the way back home, Charley and I decided to stop at the toboggan ride again to give Kelly one last ride. Despite yesterday’s fall, Kelly is still very positive about the toboggan, though I will certainly never ride double again. I did decide to ride one time—kind of getting back on the horse after a bad fall—though I went extremely slow and all of a sudden felt very middle-aged. It turns out that I was actually quite injured in our little accident, though I didn’t realize it at the time because I was so worried about Kelly’s ear. Today about 50% of my left arm is black and blue (mostly black), with a huge knot on it and I’m also very sore. Kelly has a bruise on her cheek. We had dinner at the house tonight. Kelly picked her favorite menu: fried chicken (seasoned with our Tuscan spices and cooked in olive oil), risotto Milanese, and fresh green beans. I did the best I could in our tiny kitchen. It’s actually quite amazing what I have been able to cook there with about one foot of counter space. We have also been working on laundry the last few days, as this is our last chance to have a washing machine for a while. Charley has done several small loads in the little machine, and we then hang our clothes on a drying rack on the terrace outside. After dinner we worked on our packing. Charley and Kelly took a box down to the post office this morning to ship a few things home, and we had some difficult decisions today. We are turning in our rental car tomorrow in Munich, so we have to reduce our luggage considerably as the rest of our travel will be on foot or by train. For the Swiss walk, we are limited to one suitcase each, and they need to be of moderate size. We sent one big duffel bag home with Scott from Umbria and bought a carry-on suitcase outside the train station in Florence as a replacement. Now we'll leave the old black rolling suitcase here in St. Gilgen, along with quite a few other items: a lot of food and all of our spices (this is our last kitchen), a few kitchen items, books, some clothes, and my old hiking boots. (I have inherited Kelly’s boots which she had outgrown—half-size larger than mine—since she had to get new hiking boots in Umbria.) We are even leaving the Rummikub game. The caretaker Theo said he will get the food and clothes to a needy family, and we have doubled the size of the apartment library. We've really loved our two weeks in St. Gilgen. We all agree that this would have been a great place to stay a full month. After 11 weeks of major sightseeing in Italy, we've enjoyed more of a focus on hiking and other outdoor activities. It’s hard to believe this is the last rental of our long trip… our 20th rental. We’re staying in hotels for the rest of our trip, and in less than three weeks we’ll be home in Knoxville. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.927 2005-12-13T19:11:21Z 2006-11-29T14:23:22Z

Photos from our two weeks in St. Gilgen are posted here. When you see the photos you will know why we love this area so much. After 11 weeks in six different parts of Italy, we drove 500 miles north...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com here. When you see the photos you will know why we love this area so much. After 11 weeks in six different parts of Italy, we drove 500 miles north to very familiar territory in the Salzkammergut region of Austria. This is a very lush Alpine region of mountains and lakes, about 30 minutes from the beautiful city of Salzburg. Our family has visited Salzburg three times before, including Christmas trips in 1999 and 2003. This time we shifted our base out of the city to the village of St. Gilgen on the Wolfgangsee, one of many lakes in this region. We also traveled back across the border to Germany and spend some time in the area near Berchtesgaden. After a slow start due to bad weather, our first week was filled with outdoor activities. We were so busy and had such a great time that we managed not to think too much about going home in just a month. Saturday, July 9 Today was one of the longest drives of our trip—just over 500 miles. We left our old stone house in Umbria in central Italy about 8:30 am and got to our apartment in St. Gilgen, Austria just after 7:00 pm. We made one major stop at a rest area just north of Venice… very crowded with holiday travelers this time of year. We ate in a self-service cafeteria with great looking food, but Kelly wanted a pizza that was made to order and the whole process took a long time. This stop chewed up about an hour. The trip was mostly on really good freeways, though we ran into slow traffic when we had a stretch of non-highway driving north of Ravenna. We passed right along the coast of the Adriatic Sea; unfortunately, it wasn’t as scenic as I had expected. It was an interesting drive, and I enjoyed watching the scenery as we traveled up into Northern Italy, then into the Alps, and finally crossing the border into Austria. We stopped just across the border to buy a sticker for the Austrian highways. The traffic slowed down again as we merged into one lane to travel through a long tunnel at Katschberg, north of Villach. This was all new territory for us, and we enjoyed seeing another part of the Alps. The change in the landscape during our 500 mile trip was astonishing. Yesterday we were living in a rugged environment of scrubby mountains covered with olive trees, looking out over fields of sunflowers, living outside a village of crumbling stone houses. Today we are living in a lush and green land of mountains and lakes, in a village of wooden chalets with flower boxes overflowing with bright red geraniums. Yesterday we were eating pasta, drinking red wine, and saying “Buona sera”. Today we are eating sausages, drinking beer, and saying “Guten abend”. I love both environments, but I find myself shaking my head in astonishment at how quickly the culture changes: architecture, food, language, style. The mountains really did once provide a strong barricade that enabled totally different cultures to develop just miles apart. And the nature of the physical surroundings provided building materials and food that have also created such distinct cultures within the various European regions. Even the dramatically different weather patterns make things different. It was hot summer in Umbria… in the 90’s. Here in the Salzkammergut, it’s cool again and I need my sweater. When we left America over a year ago, I left the last five weeks of our trip unplanned. The rental of Roccia Viva in Umbria was the last arrangement I made. We knew we wanted to spend some time in or near Salzburg, but I had a terrible time finding a place to rent. This area doesn’t really market rental places to English-speaking tourists, so there weren’t lots of listings to look at or places to choose from. I don’t think there are many rental properties at all in the city of Salzburg. Finally, I just gave up. I had too many things to do to get ready for our trip to spend any more time fussing over arrangements more than a year in the future. I decided to work out the last few weeks while we were living in Provence. Salzburg, Austria is one of our very favorite places, a city we’ve come back to several times on our European travels. I first visited Salzburg in 1991, on my first-ever European trip with two girlfriends. I brought Charley and Kelly to Salzburg for three days in October 1997, and then we came back for Christmas 1999. Salzburg is an absolutely wonderful place to spend Christmas. We were back again for Christmas 2003—just a year and a half ago. In the past we’ve always stayed in the city of Salzburg, though we’ve done some day-trips out into the countryside to the lake district outside Salzburg called the Salzkammergut. When I couldn’t seem to find a rental right in the city, Charley and I talked about the possibility of staying in the Salzkammergut instead… or maybe in Berchtesgaden, Germany, just 30 minutes from Salzburg in the other direction. I finally realized that most of the rental properties around Salzburg were marketed to German-speaking people, and I learned how to find German websites for “ferienwohnungen” (holiday apartments) and then which keywords in German would help me identify possible properties. I focused on properties where there was some English information or where the owner spoke some English. That just made communication so much easier. Eventually I found an apartment in the village of St. Gilgen, a village on the Wolfgangsee, about 30 minutes from Salzburg. We had visited St. Gilgen briefly a couple of times and thought it would be an ideal location. The owner was British and good to work with through e-mail. She gave me a discount for a two week rental, and I was even able to send a check in US dollars. And so now, here we are. The apartment is just across the main road from the village, in group of modern chalet buildings. Our apartment is on the ground floor with a terrace looking out toward the lake. We have a nice view of the lake and the mountains on the opposite side of the lake, and can watch the cable car go past us to the top of the mountain behind us. The apartment is smaller than I thought from the pictures on the website, really the only “modern” place we’ve stayed our entire trip. We have a small entrance foyer; the bathroom is off the foyer. Then there’s a living/dining room with glass doors opening out to the terrace, and a very small kitchen. At first we didn’t know what happened to the bedrooms, since the door is built into a big wall unit. Charley and I have a double bedroom on the other side of the wall unit, and Kelly’s room is adjacent to ours. Her room is very, very small with two bunk beds. There is just room for the door to open without hitting the beds. But the apartment is clean and bright and a great location. Kelly is excited that there is a VCR and a couple of movies. There are even a few books that Charley and I want to read. Laundry equipment in Europe is very different than what we are used to in America, and we’ve got a machine here that is the most unique we’ve seen this past year. When I first communicated with Catherine, the owner, she told me there wasn’t a washing machine in the apartment. Later she wrote me that they had purchased a unit. Well, there is a washing machine, but it is the smallest washing machine I’ve ever seen—actually a portable washing machine! Fortunately the owner’s manual is in English, so Charley can try to figure this out. The keys were left in the mailbox for us. We carried our bags in and did just a little unpacking, then walked down to the village for dinner. We decided to eat at a big new place right on the waterfront called the Fischer Wirt, painted a pretty yellow. We sat on the outdoor terrace looking out over the Wolfgansee and the mountains. Charley loves the environment of the German/Austrian Alps… well, we all do. This was a great spot to begin our two-week stay. Our meal was very good. We all had our favorite goulash soup, then I had fish (trout from the lake), Charley had wiener schnitzel, and Kelly had pasta. We immediately switched from our Italian beverage of choice (red wine) to our Austrian beverage of choice (beer), though I’m having a much harder time switching to my limited German vocabulary. The restaurant had a live band tonight, and we enjoyed listening to the music and watching people dance. There were some very good dancers. After dinner we took a late-night stroll around the village. We found a bakery where Charley can go in the morning to get our breakfast. We’re excited about the prospect of Austrian breads for breakfast.]]> Sunday, July 10 We awoke to a rainy day. We got here too late to grocery-shop last night; the two supermarkets on the end of the village had just closed. Now they’re closed again today because it’s Sunday—this is a fact of life we’ve come to accept during our time in Europe. Fortunately, we carried a lot of groceries with us from Umbria, so we do have food for tonight. In fact, we have a lot of food to use up during the next few weeks, since this is the last place where we’ll cook our own meals on our long trip. Charley walked down to the village and found a bakery to get some breakfast breads. We are glad to be back in a country where they know how to make great bread! He found some really good pastries this morning. Later we walked down the main road a few blocks to the Tourist Information center, which fortunately was open on Sunday. We got maps and brochures to help us plan our week. We also bought an inexpensive Salzkammergut card for local discounts. The woman at the Tourist Office said that the rain should clear by Tuesday. When we came back to the apartment we met the caretaker Theo outside in the parking lot. He speaks a little English and was very pleasant. We stayed at home most of the day today because of the weather. (How quickly each new place has become “home”!) We read through all the brochures and made a list of the things we want to do during our two weeks in the Salzkammergut. We all have good books to read, and Kelly was excited to have a couple of movies to watch. So we weren’t too bored today. In the afternoon we walked down to the main village. St. Gilgen is a very attractive place, even in the drizzle. We had coffee and dessert at a café on a square with a statue of Mozart. Yum—apple streudel again! Next door there was a café with internet access, but it was 10 euro an hour, so we definitely won’t be going there! St. Gilgen is a village of about 3000 people and a summer and winter vacation destination. The village has strong ties to Mozart. His mother was born here on Christmas Day in 1720, and his sister Nannerl married a local government official and lived in St. Gilgen from 1784 until 1801. There is even a Mozart museum in the village, in the house where Mozart’s mother and sister both lived. We spent the rest of the day back at our little apartment. Kelly watched movies and we all read. I fixed pasta for dinner. Monday, July 11 Today was another rainy day, and we had another “home” day. The grocery stores were open, and that was our big event for the morning. There are two large supermarkets on the main road, just before the entrance into St. Gilgen: a Billa and a Spar. We checked them both out and bought provisions for the next couple of days. Food shopping is not as interesting in Austria and Germany as it was in France and Italy. Charley went into the village twice today (once with Kelly), but other than the grocery trip, I didn’t leave the apartment. We had a quiet day of reading and movies. We’ve about exhausted the movies that we’re interested in watching. Charley also experimented with our little washing machine. It’s almost like a toy. You have to manually move the clothes from the chamber where they are washed to the chamber where they spin. He has decided to sit the little machine in the bathtub when he does laundry. I’ll handle the cooking, and I’m happy to let him handle the laundry—especially this unique machine. (But we are happy to have the ability to wash clothes at the apartment. We would otherwise have had to go to another village to find a laundromat.) I fixed chicken and risotto for dinner—Kelly’s new favorite meal. We’re back in a small galley kitchen with very little counter space, so cooking is a challenge. After two days in the apartment, we’re definitely anxious for the weather to clear. We need to go somewhere tomorrow, regardless of the weather! Tuesday, July 12 It was still a bit overcast and rainy today, but we were determined to go on an excursion. We decided that a rainy day would be a good day to visit a salt mine, which was one of the activities on our list. We’ve been to the salt mine at Berchtesgaden twice, so we decided we would visit a different mine this time. Our Salzkammergut card gave us a discount to the mines at Bad Dürrnberg, which is near Hallein and not far from Berchtesgaden. We took the pretty road from St. Gilgen to Mondsee, a nearby village on another beautiful lake. We’ve visited this village a couple of times on the Sound of Music tour. They filmed the wedding of Maria and the Captain at the church… such a large church for a relatively small village. We spotted a big modern EuroSpar supermarket just outside of Mondsee and decided we would come back to shop later in the week. We accessed the big highway on the other side of Mondsee. We bypassed Salzburg, then drove to Hallein, right on the German border. Then we followed the signs to the salt mine, a pretty busy place on this drizzly day. There were a couple groups of teenage schoolchildren, but fortunately they were leaving as we were getting in line. We had a long wait to go on the salt mine tour—at least an hour. Finally we were issued our “miners clothing”—white pants and a jacket that we pulled on over our clothes in the big open changing room. I think the suit is primarily to protect your clothing from salt (or something else in the mine), but it also helps you pretend that you’re an old-fashioned miner. Then we joined another line and finally boarded the little train that carried us deep into the mine. The open train has one cushioned seat that runs down the middle of each car. You swing your leg over and sit astride the seat, your knees on either side of the person in front of you. They ask you to sit right up against the person in front of you. (This is really quite strange when you’re sitting behind someone you don’t know. Kelly made sure that she was behind one of us.) The tunnel is so narrow that if you put your arms out on either side, I think you would touch the sides of the tunnel. And if you stood up, your head might touch the roof. I tried hard not to think about being claustrophobic! This salt mine is very similar to the one we visited in Berchtesgaden, except that at various places they showed segments of a somewhat hokey movie about the Archbishop Wolf Dietrich of Salzburg, who once owned the mine. They believe that salt has been mined in the area around Salzburg for over 4500 years, and it was very important economically in the era of Wolf Dietrich (late 16th/early 17th century). After the train carried us into the mine, we walked through a tunnel (actually crossing the Germany/Austria border inside the mine), and then rode a wooden slide down some 40 feet to a lower level of the mine. We slid down as a family, legs around the person in front. Whoosh! We really went fast! We really enjoyed the slide (especially Kelly) and were glad there was a second slide later in our mine tour. We also rode a boat across a dark salt lake and finally took an escalator to get us up to the main level again. After the salt mine tour, we drove down to Berchtesgaden, a town we’ve visited briefly once before. We got some information at the Tourist Information Office, had an okay lunch at a hotel dining room, and walked around looking in shops. Kelly and I would both like to get some cropped hiking pants for our Swiss walk. We’ve also decided that we need two walking sticks each; unfortunately, we bought only one each when we were in Umbria. There were quite a few outdoor shops in Berchtesgaden, but the cropped hiking pants and walking sticks all seemed too expensive today. We took a different route back to St. Gilgen through the countryside, then on a twisty road through a deep river gorge, and finally to a pretty little reservoir called the Wiestal Stausee. We stopped at the Elizabethstollen, a waterfall at the junction of the river and the reservoir that generates hydroelectric power. Because of all the recent rain, the waterfall was very impressive today—and terribly noisy. Charley and I got out of the car and walked across the bridge to get the full view of the gushing river (such a contrast to the peaceful reservoir), but we couldn’t get Kelly to budge. She was more interested in her book than the water. I was quite surprised that Charley was willing to walk across the bridge. Since we had a big lunch fairly late, we didn’t do a big dinner back at the apartment. We got out the Scrabble board we found in one of the cabinets and played a couple of games. It was actually a lot of fun. Wednesday, July 13 Finally we awoke to a good weather day! We consulted our list and decided that our big activity for the day would be a trip to the top of the Schafberg mountain, the mountain that dominates the Wolfgangsee. We can see the distinctive jagged peak of the mountain from our apartment. Although we could have hiked to the top (and it would definitely have been good training for our upcoming Swiss walk), we decided to take the little train. We drove around the far end of the lake to the village of St. Wolfgang, parked, and went to buy our tickets. Our Salzkammergut card gave us a discount. Unfortunately, the electric train was pulling away just as we walked up, and rather than wait more than an hour, we decided to pay extra to take the next departure on a slower old coal train, which was built in the late 1800’s. The railway line is 5.85 kilometers (about 3-1/2 miles) with an altitude gain of 1190 meters (3900 feet), so a very steep ascent. We enjoyed the views as we traveled up the mountain; the trip took almost an hour. We passed several hikers on their way up on foot. The peak of the Schafberg is 1,783 meters or 5,850ft. At the top there’s a hotel and a couple of eating places. The views were absolutely fabulous in all directions. We could see seven lakes in the Salzkammergut: Fulchlsee, Wolfgangsee, Mondsee, Attersee, Traunsee, Halstätter See, and Altauseer See. We could even see our house! We spent about two hours at the top. We walked to a couple of the viewpoints and took pictures. Then we had lunch on the outdoor terrace of the hotel. Our young waitress spoke good English and said that the hotel/restaurant staff lives on the mountain during their season. We booked our seats for the ride down when we arrived and decided to take the electric train down. It was a faster ride, though the train was absolutely packed. Every single place was taken, and we were jammed in thigh to thigh on the padded benches. Kelly and I sat together, but Charley was in the section just behind us. The ride down was extremely jerky. On the way back around the lake we stopped in Strobl where there is a summer toboggan ride. We rode a similar toboggan near Fuschl on the Sound of Music tour in 1997, but Kelly was small and doesn’t remember it. Our family has special memories of Strobl because we spent several hours in a car dealership there in 1999 while our rental car was being repaired. This is one of our “stupid travel moments”—we put regular gas in what we didn’t realize was a diesel car. An expensive lesson to learn! Our Salzkammergut card gave us a discount on the toboggan ride, and we each rode a couple of times. This location has two runs, both about 1000 meters long. You get your little sled at the bottom, then the sled is attached to a tow rope and you’re pulled backwards up the hill. (The view across the lake to St. Wolfgang was just beautiful.) Then you lift your heavy sled over to one of the two tracks and sled down on the twisting track, using the brake to moderate the speed. Kelly absolutely loved this ride. We got a family ticket so we each could ride twice, but then we bought Kelly a ticket for two more rides. Tonight there was a big band concert in St. Gilgen at the Mozartplatz (main square with a statue of Mozart). We decided to eat dinner out again and chose an Italian restaurant/pizzeria called Papageno (after the character in Mozart’s The Magic Flute), located right on the waterfront. We sat on the second floor on a small outdoor terrace looking out over the lake. It was a good Italian meal, but not the same ambiance that we enjoyed so much in Italy. Then we walked around to the big square near the old church. All the cafes and restaurants on the square had special tables set out around the square, and we got a good table in front of one of the hotels. The place was absolutely packed with people, and the band was large (about twenty musicians) with three girl singers. They sang some big band music but also American pop music. There were two American couples at the table next two us—maybe retirees. One of the men (wearing a Hawaiian type shirt and long shorts) was extremely loud. He goaded his table into singing along to many of the songs, and finally ended up asking a young Austrian girl to dance with him, even though there were very few people dancing. All her friends were laughing, but she did accept. I think the man had way too much to drink. I tried to pretend I was French or German and cringed when I heard Charley ask his favorite question: “Where are you folks from?” Some villagers sitting at the other end of our table actually thought we were with those people. “Oh no, no,” I said, anxious to distance myself from these other Americans. I feel badly to have that reaction, but why weren’t they more sensitive to their behavior and dress?? Thursday, July 14 Hooray, another beautiful day! Today we took the cable car up to the top of the Zwölferhorn, the mountain that rises up behind our house. We actually made this same trip not too long ago in December 2003. There was snow on the top of the mountain then, and Kelly for some reason was terrified of the cable car ride. She looked down at her lap the entire time and practically trembled. For some reason, on the trip down, she snapped out of this fear and really enjoyed the trip. This is a hiking mountain in the summer and a skiing mountain in the winter. The cable car station is just five minutes from our house, on the main road in the village. We got another discount with our Salzkammergut card. We shared a car with a very nice man from the Netherlands who is camping for a week with his family. The mountain station on the top is at 1476 meters (4842 feet), a 16 minute ride. Like the Schafberg, there are several mountain huts (cafes) on the top. We did a circular walk on the top on the “Pillstein Panorama,” a mostly-flat circular route that took about an hour. A couple of women were hiking this path with their baby strollers, so it definitely wasn’t too challenging. There were cows on the trail—with big noisy bells—which was kind of fun. After this walk we ate on the outdoor terrace of a little place called the Berghof… we enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere and our meal. This mountain is a very big center for paragliding, and we sat up at the top for about 30 minutes and watched the paragliders take off. They have to carry big backpacks of equipment up the cable car and then spend about 30 minutes getting ready. Finally they stand up, watch the windsock, and start running down the hill. And then they are flying. The sails are so colorful. Some of the people seem to take an hour or more to get down, flying in graceful circles through the sky. Kelly inquired about doing a tandem paraglide ride for her birthday, but we quickly dismissed that idea—too expensive and dangerous for a 12 year old. Today we decided to get some more serious exercise, and we hiked down via the Efferstein (ski run), a two-hour walk. The trails on this mountain are very well marked, and we had a good map and directions (in English) that we got from the Tourist Office. The path was extremely steep and it really bothered my knees. We decided we definitely need the two hiking poles. We stopped at hut called the Sausteigalm for a drink about half-way down. We ended up just down the street from our house, but there are several other routes down to different destinations. When we got back to the house, Kelly and Charley went into the village and bought three more hiking poles. Now we are ready for more serous alpine hiking. I still had one taco kit and a can of refried beans left from the “care package” Scott brought us in Umbria, so we had tacos for dinner. Not at all Austrian, but good! After dinner we played a couple games of Scrabble. Friday, July 15 We have been blessed with a third straight nice day. Today we left early to go into Salzburg, less than thirty minutes away. Salzburg is one of our favorite cities, and we’ve been here three times as a family and I came once before Charley and I were married. We found our way easily to the big parking garage built into the mountain just off the Linzergasse. This is where we parked when we stayed nearby at the Wolf Dietrich Hotel in December 2003. We’ve stayed at the Wolf Dietrich on all three of our previous Salzburg trips. It seems kind of strange to be in Salzburg and not staying there. We had a good and inexpensive breakfast at a little coffee shop on the Linzergasse. The bread is so wonderful here and there are so many choices of pastries… a nice change after the unusual saltless bread in Tuscany. We walked down the pedestrian Linzergasse that we like so much, then walked across the river to the tourist office at the Mozartplatz. We know our way around this city very well… we really don’t need the map. We decided to come back to Salzburg tomorrow also, so we invested in a two-day Salzburg card. They are expensive, but then we’ll do many things for free. We also bought discounted tickets to a Sound of Music show tonight—our big splurge for our stay here. We are Sound of Music junkies, I guess. I have never gotten to visit Mozart’s Birthplace (Geburthaus), and finally today we did! Other years we felt it was too crowded or too expensive, but today it was “free” because of our Salzburg cards. Mozart is everywhere in Salzburg… there is even a famous candy and a related liquor named for him. He was born in this house on the Getreidegasse in 1756 and lived here with his family until 1773. The house was larger than I had expected and very interesting—lots of family papers, portraits, musical instruments. We walked down the Getriedegasse—so strange to be here in the summertime after four visits in the winter—and stopped to take photos at the beautiful royal horse trough. The horse trough has always been covered up in the wintertime, so I was thrilled to see it in the summer. Then we took the lift (free with our card) up to the top of the Mönchsberg and the Winkler café… though the café somehow had disappeared since our last visit! The fantastic view of the city is still there, but the formerly-famous café has been replaced by a museum of modern art. We decided to eat Austrian/German casual-dining food today and had lunch at a WienerWald. The grilled chicken is a popular choice for Kelly. The food is always good and not too expensive. We’ll save a “special” meal in Salzburg for later. After lunch we did a boat cruise on the Salzach River—another freebee with our Salzburg card. This is something we would never do because of the cost. It was an interesting way to see a bit of the city (really, just a bit) and relax in the sunshine. At the end of the boat trip the captain turned the boat in rapid circles in the river, actually “dancing” to Strauss waltz music. Interesting and pretty funny really! We walked back across the river to visit the other Mozart House—called the Residence—where Mozart lived with his family from 1773 until 1780. The original house was destroyed by a bomb during World War II, but it has been restored and is now a Mozart museum. I thought this was actually a more interesting museum than the more popular birthhouse. Since we were on the Right Bank of the Salzach, we walked over to the gardens at the beautiful Mirabell Palace. I loved seeing the gardens with the flowers in bloom. Kelly walked with me up to the Dwarf Garden with the life-size stone dwarf statues, and we had fun taking pictures. Charley had a good time sitting on a bench, doing his “watching the world go by” thing. We wandered back over to the Old Town to the Cathedral, arriving just before closing time. We had almost two hours to fill before our Sound of Music dinner show. There was a lot of activity in the big square by the Dom, and we drifted around listening to some musicians and watching a big outdoor chess game. Then we were lucky to find a good and reasonably-priced internet café where we hung out for about an hour. It had been almost a week since we last checked our e-mail. Finally we made our way back over to the Getriedegasse to find the Sternbräu restaurant where the Sound of Music dinner show is held. The Sternbräu is a very large complex with all kinds of indoor and outdoor dining areas. The dinner theater is a relatively just a small part of the restaurant. There was a problem with our reservation. Apparently the Tourist Office had never called to confirm our reservation (fortunately we did have tickets), so at first we were put at a table in the very back next to the sound booth. I was pretty upset about this. Even though we got a discount, the tickets were quite expensive. Charley used his skills of persuasion, and the woman finally found a way to move us up a few tables. Kelly had been pretty excited about the dinner, because it seemed like something she would like: bread, clear soup with dumplings, a chicken breast with noodles and vegetables, and finally “crisp apple streudel.” The show was fun, but obviously extremely touristy. There must have been people there from fifteen different countries—even a film crew from Japan! The “Maria” character had us all shout out where we were from. There were six performers in simple costumes (one a pianist) who did all the Sound of Music songs with a bit of choreography. They also sang a few other Austrian folk songs. The singer who played the “role” of Captain Von Trapp was Asian, which seemed a little strange. At the end they pulled all the kids up on stage, including Kelly, singing the Do-Re-Mi song. Kelly seemed so big compared to some of the other kids, and she really didn’t know what to do…. she seemed unusually self-conscious. Our family loves the Sound of Music movie. I remember seeing it when I was young—younger than Kelly—and have watched it… I don’t know—maybe 20 times?? We’ve even seen the musical on Broadway and of course know all the songs. The movie means even more to me now because I’ve been to Salzburg. The city is almost another “star” of the film, since it was all filmed on location. So I guess we are really Sound of Music groupies, though we love Mozart too. We went to classical concerts the last two trips to Salzburg, so something a little lighter was fun tonight. The show finished about 10 pm. We walked back across the river and up the Linzergasse humming our favorite Sound of Music songs. We were a little concerned that it might not be open this late, but fortunately it had an automated pay/access/exit system. We retrieved our car and drove back into the countryside. It was a long but very good day. Click here to read about our second week in St. Gilgen.]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.892 2005-08-10T16:29:40Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

We wanted to let everyone know that we finished our 100 mile walk in the Swiss Alps yesterday near Gstaad. We took a scenic train to Geneva at noon and have had several hours to visit this beautiful city. We...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com We wanted to let everyone know that we finished our 100 mile walk in the Swiss Alps yesterday near Gstaad. We took a scenic train to Geneva at noon and have had several hours to visit this beautiful city. We fly out of Geneva tomorrow. The walk was a real challenge, mainly because of the high mountains but also due to weather. Kelly and I had one abbreviated day because I fell on a wet road and bruised my knee, but Charley hiked this whole segment which was the highest and most difficult day of the walk. The next day we all ended up with a short day because it was snowing on top of the mountain. We walked several hours in the rain to another town and then took a bus the rest of the way instead of trying to cross the mountain in the snow. Fortunately the last two days were perfect and we were even able to hike in shorts. We really enjoyed our time in Switzerland and it was a great way to end our trip. We especially enjoyed our new friendships with three British hikers who were on our same schedule and in our same hotels. We will post a more detailed blog on our Swiss walk when we are back home. We have a lot to do over the next two weeks to get settled back in our house. Kelly is looking forward to seeing her dog Milly and starting school next Wednesday. And so onward to new adventures now this one is almost over! tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.888 2005-08-03T15:09:40Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

It is Wednesday afternoon and I'm in an internet cafe in Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland, in a beautiful valley surrounded by tall rocky mountains on all sides. There are over 70 waterfalls in this valley. A funicular runs up the mountainside just...

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com this website. We have six more days on our walk, including one rest day. Then we will travel to Geneva by train and leave for home next Thursday morning... August 11th. Our long adventure is really coming to an end with our Swiss Walk the grand finale. Keep us in your thoughts and prayers over the next few days as we finish our walk and make the flight across the ocean. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.882 2005-07-25T10:05:27Z 2006-11-05T19:35:53Z

We traveled only two hours from our month-long base in the village of Chiusure, in an area of Tuscany called the Crete, to reach our new home in Umbria. Our route took us through familiar territory near Cortona, the landscape changing from rolling hills to rocky, more mountainous terrain. We passed into Umbria on a modern freeway, along the north shore of Lake Trasimeno. Charley was interested to be at the site where Hannibal defeated the Romans in 217 BC. Our route took us past Perugia, the capital of Umbria, a large city that blended the ancient and the modern worlds. As we traveled south down the freeway, picturesque towns clung to the sides of mountains—Assisi, Spello, then Trevi. The steep mountainside around Trevi was covered with olive trees, quite unlike anything we had seen in the olive-growing regions of France. We later learned that some of the best olive oil in Italy is produced in this area. Huge fields of sunflowers seemed to be everywhere, in full bloom… masses of vibrant gold. I felt happy just to be around so many sunflowers. We liked what we saw of Umbria.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com We knew very little about Umbria before we arrived for our two-week stay on June 25. I knew it was adjacent to Tuscany and similar in some ways, but I hadn’t really done any research and didn’t even buy a guidebook. Other than Assisi, I’m not sure I could have named any famous towns or cities in Umbria. But a few Slow Travel friends had highly recommended the area, several even preferring it to the more-popular Tuscany. At some point in our trip planning I decided to look into spending a week in Umbria. In part we ended up in Umbria because I fell in love with a rental apartment I found on the internet. I never even sent out any other inquiries for Umbria rentals. Once I saw this place, I knew I wanted to stay there and that we would go to Umbria… in fact, we would stay there two weeks. Umbria was an unexpected delight, the apartment even better than I had expected. We traveled only two hours from our month-long base in the village of Chiusure, in an area of Tuscany called the Crete, to reach our new home in Umbria. Our route took us through familiar territory near Cortona, the landscape changing from rolling hills to rocky, more mountainous terrain. We passed into Umbria on a modern freeway, along the north shore of Lake Trasimeno. Charley was interested to be at the site where Hannibal defeated the Romans in 217 BC. Our route took us past Perugia, the capital of Umbria, a large city that blended the ancient and the modern worlds. As we traveled south down the freeway, picturesque towns clung to the sides of mountains—Assisi, Spello, then Trevi. The steep mountainside around Trevi was covered with olive trees, quite unlike anything we had seen in the olive-growing regions of France. We later learned that some of the best olive oil in Italy is produced in this area. Huge fields of sunflowers seemed to be everywhere, in full bloom… masses of vibrant gold. I felt happy just to be around so many sunflowers. We liked what we saw of Umbria. Roccia Viva The house is in the mountains near the village of Campello sul Clitunno, between Trevi and the famous festival town of Spoleto. Although the owner, Karen, had e-mailed us very detailed directions, we made several wrong turns on our initial journey, possibly because it seemed so improbable that a house could be located there… up such a small road, on such a steep slope, among all the olive trees. Beyond the small village of La Bianca, along a road that twists by the mountainside, and through dense groves of olive trees, we reached the Castello di Campello Alto, a 10th century walled castle, now a small hamlet with about 15 residents. From there the narrow road continued upwards, finally reaching the old farmhouse, which hangs off the mountainside at 1900 feet. The house looks down on the old castle and then out to the southwest across the wide expanse of the Vale di Umbra, once an ancient lake. The mountain rising behind the house—Monte Serano—is over 4500 feet tall. In the distance across the valley, at the base of mountains, is a large town with a distinctive castle towering over it: Spoleto. The view from the house is absolutely phenomenal. I especially like it at night… the night sky above and lights all across the valley, surprisingly populated for an area that seems quite rural. The Campello Alto castle is illuminated just below us, as is the Rocca in distant Spoleto. Our apartment is the lower floor of a 16th farmhouse, restored just a few years ago by our hosts Karen and Martin, who live in the upper level. (They also rent a separate cottage on the hillside above the main house.) Martin is German—an architect—and Karen is American, a ceramicist who has her studio in one area of the house. The house is called Roccia Viva, which means “living rock,” a technical term for surfacing of natural rock formations within an interior or exterior space. The artistic style of both Martin and Karen is clearly evident in the design and decoration of the apartment—it’s a beautiful restoration. Karen’s ceramics and Martin’s artwork add special touches to the décor. The apartment is spacious and light and extremely comfortable, a house that’s a blend of the very old and the very modern, right in the space where farm animals were once stabled. The long house is built along a narrow terrace on the mountainside, actually built into the mountainside. The back wall incorporates the natural rock of the mountain…. in the entranceway, the bathroom and the large living/dining room. In the living room, the old hay manger extends in front of the rock, creating an extremely unique effect. The opposite wall faces out to the valley… several windows and doors leading to the outdoor terraces and our own private view of the panorama of the Vale di Umbra. We’ve spent many hours on the main terrace, even eating most of our meals outside. The kitchen is modern and well equipped, with blond wood cabinets—quite a contrast to our tiny old-fashioned kitchen space in Tuscany. The appliances are beautiful and new: a large refrigerator, a glistening range, a microwave, a small dishwasher. Like our kitchen in Provence, this kitchen makes me want to cook. We even have a pasta machine and a library of cookbooks… and we’ve used what we learned in our cooking class to make homemade pasta a couple of times. The two bedrooms (Kelly’s room with a single bed is off of ours) are simple and clean. We share one spacious bathroom (complete with rock wall) with a great shower and plenty of hot water. The house also has some unexpected treats for Kelly: three cats and a friendly young dog named Argo whose head and body don’t quite match. Kelly and Argo quickly bonded, and Argo seemed excited to have a young friend to play with. Karen and Martin went away for a few days during our stay, and Kelly was thrilled to feed the cats for Karen…and disappointed that Argo went off to a kennel. A few afternoons ago Kelly and I both fell asleep while reading in the living room. I had left the terrace door open and awoke to find a wet Argo nose touching mine. We really enjoy spending time at this house. Several days we’ve stayed close to home, lounging on the sunny terrace, daydreaming across the view, and reading good books from the selection in the living room. I’ve probably read ten books since we’ve been here. Kelly and Charley have even gone out without me a few times… I’ve just been happy to stay here at this special place. But the pull of Umbria has also been strong. We’ve also been anxious to explore the beautiful countryside we can see from our terrace. Friends in Umbria We’ve shared part of our Umbrian experience with a friend from Knoxville, my former co-worker Scott McDonald. He had planned to visit us in Provence over Christmas, but his flight was cancelled and couldn’t be rescheduled. Instead he ended up coming to stay with us in Umbria over the 4th of July holiday weekend… all the way to Italy for four days with the Wood family. He arrived on the train from Rome with a suitcase full of treats: pop tarts, candy, pancake mix and syrup, Mexican food kits, stuffed animals for Kelly, and a Knoxville t-shirt for me. He also brought a load of books I had ordered for Kelly on Amazon… an early birthday present and hopefully enough to last her for the rest of our trip. We had a wonderful time during Scott’s visit, and he was an ideal guest: easy-going, flexible in his diet, and open to new experiences. He also had no problem sleeping on the foldout couch or sharing a bathroom. We saw beautiful towns, mountains and countryside during our four days together. We had good food and wine, in restaurants and at home. We had a fun evening on the 4th of July, when Kelly organized some special activities. But most of all, we enjoyed the conversations and the quiet times, admiring the view from our terrace. Scott’s visit definitely helped whet our appetite for being back with our friends in America in just a few weeks We’ve also gotten together with several Americans who live permanently in Umbria. Karen Bamonte and her German husband Martin Stubenrauch are the owners of Roccia Viva. Martin has been away for part of our stay, but we’ve gotten to know Karen quite well. She’s been extremely friendly and helpful, even making me an appointment with her hairdresser in Spoleto for a much-needed haircut, my first in over three months. I had been intrigued by Karen’s story on the website (another attraction of the house), and she’s really a remarkable person. We couldn’t believe it when she told us she’s in her mid 50’s… I would have been much less surprised if she told me she was 35. She was educated in the fine arts and was a dancer and then a choreographer and dance company director. She only shifted to ceramics in the last several years, and now sells and exhibits her work. We visited her studio while Scott was with us, and he bought a beautiful piece to take home. Last night we invited Karen and Martin downstairs for a drink, and it was interesting to hear their stories and learn more about the restoration of this house. This was the first real conversation we’ve had with Martin, who has his architectural office in the village. When Karen and Martin bought the house about five years ago, it was a ruin. No one had lived here for over 30 years and even then it was very rustic. There was one electric light bulb hanging from the ceiling and no indoor plumbing. They had to park down on another road and access the house by foot, later building the small road that now leads to Roccia Viva. We also got together with a couple other friends from the Slow Travel website. During our first week we drove north of Perugia to visit Judith Greenwood at her home near Citta di Castello. Judith’s name on Slow Travel is “Decobabe.” She was a great host, fixing us a wonderful lunch (lemon pasta, turkey and beans) and making special efforts to entertain Kelly. It was interesting to learn about her decision to move to Italy and her new life in the Italian countryside. Kelly spent much of our visit outside, playing with a couple of sweet kittens. This was the first time Kelly had ever been around a kitten. Then this week we drove west to the village of San Venanzo (near Marsciano) to visit Barb and Art Skinner, other Slow Travelers who moved to Umbria from Louisville, Kentucky about two years ago. They gave us the grand tour of their house, a very neat place right in the village. They even have a little garden area in the back that adjoins a small park. We especially loved their kitchen, which had a woodburning fireplace at counter-level and the pull out storage drawers that we like so much. We had wine in the garden and a wonderful lunch—a pasta dish that Kelly just raved about. After lunch we went for a drive. Barb and Art took us to a mosaics workshop hidden away in a cave-like space in a small neighboring hamlet called Rotecastello. We would never have found this place on our own. The son was the artist, and his parents seemed to run the business side of things. They were all so friendly and even showed us a few pieces in their home upstairs. Kelly loved the mosaics and bought a beautiful little wall hanging—they gave a special price just for her. (She claimed at the time that she would not need an allowance for the rest of the trip.) Barb and Art also took us to a local winery where Charley filled a five-liter jug… hopefully this will get him through the next few weeks. By the end of our six hours together, Barb and Art seemed like old friends. We’ve been fortunate to make so many new friends on this trip, many of whom I feel sure we will see again. (Barb’s blog gives a more detailed story of our visit, including photos… it was interesting to find ourselves in someone else’s blog!) Exploring Umbria One of our most interesting experiences in Umbria was “Il Mercato delle Gaite” in the village of Bevagna near Montefalco. Our first full day in Umbria coincided with the last day of this ten-day medieval festival. Bevagna is organized into four districts or “gaites” and the festival is a type of competition between the districts. Each district created an authentic medieval environment. The streets and houses were decorated and all the villagers—even small children—wore medieval costumes; many people really seemed to take on a medieval persona. In certain special places, old medieval crafts were demonstrated. We saw a blacksmith at work, visited a papermaking operation, and watched two men make rope. Other villagers made candles and spun wool, and there was an archery competition. Even though it was a Sunday afternoon, all the local merchants were open and participating in some way. Each district had a special “gastronomic” area where food was served, apparently also part of the competition. We felt like we had stepped back in time five hundred years or more. We visited the town of Spoleto a couple of times, just a 20-minute drive from our house. The town’s history dates back over 2500 years to the Iron Age. In 241 BC Spoleto became a Roman colony and in the 9th century was one of the most important cities in Italy. Today it is probably best known for its annual arts festival, which involves a month-long program of drama, music, dance, art, and film events. This year’s Spoleto Festival coincided with our visit. We went to the festival office and got a program of events, but didn’t end up going to anything. Our first visit was on a Monday, and we weren’t too impressed with Spoleto. The parking was confusing, the streets were too steep, and nothing was open. We should have remembered that in many towns, most of the stores and restaurants are closed on Monday. On our subsequent visits, we got more comfortable with the town and wished we had made our major sightseeing trip on a different day of the week. We did our most aggressive sightseeing during Scott’s visit. On Saturday we drove 30 minutes north to the walled hillside city of Assisi, best known as the home of St. Francis, one of the most beloved of all the saints. St. Francis was born in Assisi in 1182, the son of a well-to-do draper. He chose instead to pursue a simple life of poverty and founded a religious order. Today Assisi is a major pilgrimage destination, and the basilica is one of the most impressive we have seen, on the exterior and interior. We had not remembered that Umbria was hit by a major earthquake in 1997. The St. Francis basilica was seriously impacted and its restoration (now complete) was a major priority. There are actually two separate basilicas on two different levels, both decorated extensively with beautiful old frescoes. One series of frescoes in the upper basilica (painted by Giotto between 1296 and 1304) tells the story of the life of St. Francis. Adjacent to the lower basilica is the dimly-lit crypt where the remains of St. Francis and a few of his closest followers are buried in a simple, thought-provoking environment. After our hour at the basilica, we walked the length of the old town. There are beautiful buildings, art galleries, lots of shops, even some Roman ruins. The town was busy, but not as touristy as many other places we have been. Scott made several purchases for friends back home. That evening we went out for a special dinner at Il Castello di Poreta, a small hotel/restaurant on a neighboring hillside in the ruins of an old castle. We ate on the outdoor terrace, watching a beautiful sunset across the Vale di Umbra. To the north we had a clear view of the Castello di Campello Alto and our own house just above. This was one of the best meals of our trip…. the right combination of environment, food and dining companions…. topped off by that perfect sunset. We had four courses and shared two bottles of wine. On Sunday we left early and drove up into bigger mountains to the Parco dei Monti Sibillini and the town of Nórcia. This national park has over 50 mountain peaks that are over 6500 feet high. Nórcia is an old Roman town, and St. Benedict (the patron saint of Europe) was born here in 480. The Basilica di San Benedetto is built on the ruins of an old Roman forum, supposedly also the spot where St. Benedict and his twin sister St. Scolastica were born. (We have sure learned a lot about the Catholic saints on this trip!) We were able to walk in a section of the church where the Roman ruins have been excavated. We enjoyed our few hours in Nórcia, a busy place on Sunday at midday. Most of the visitors seemed to be Italians. The town is filled with food shops called “norcineria” selling sausages, hams, truffles, cheeses, dried pasta and other local delicacies. Cinghiale (wild boar) is definitely a specialty and many of the butcher shops were adorned with stuffed boars or mounted boar heads. We ate at a local place—Taverna dè Massari—a restaurant recommended by one of the shopkeepers. The owner was a bit surly, but our waitress was friendly. Scott and I both had pasta dishes featuring truffles (tartufo). The truffles here are considered among the best in the world and were much cheaper than they were in Provence. I finally feel like I’ve really tasted truffles. From Nórcia we continued winding through the mountains to the Piano Grande, an immense and very beautiful green plain (five miles long and three miles wide at 4100 feet above sea level) ringed by mountains and filled with flowers. We stopped the car on the edge of the mountain to watch a man and his dogs herd a large flock of sheep and a couple of goats. We looked down across the huge grassy plain. It was simply beautiful, but we weren’t quite sure what was happening down there. Midway across the plain, stretched across the vast field of green, we could see a long line of white stretching almost all the way across to the mountains on either side. As we headed down into the Piano Grande on the narrow road we were surprised to discover lots of cars pulled off the road… their owners sitting on lounge chairs and picnic blankets in the big grassy field as if they were at the beach, romping through the flowers with dogs and small children. The line of white turned out to be a long line of campers and RVs—at least 100 and maybe more… apparently weekenders from the Italian cities coming out to the countryside. A few vans even sold drinks and snacks. At the other end of the Piano Grande we reached the hilltop village of Castelluccio, the highest village in Umbria (4790 feet) and known for its production of lentils. Although I had read that the village has a population of only 40 people, it was so crowded that we didn’t even stop. We later learned that we probably should have made our visit to the Piano Grande on a day other than a weekend, especially in early July. It was still absolutely beautiful—especially all the wildflowers—but it was so very crowded on that strange Sunday… almost a carnival atmosphere. At least the tourism seemed temporary. There weren’t any billboards, fast food joints, theme parks, t-shirt stores, or miniature golf centers like we find around the beautiful Smoky Mountains in our home state. On the way home, we made a detour at Spoleto to take the twisty mountain road to Monteluco. The winding road passes above the big Spoleto castle (the Rocca de Papi) and the 13th century aqueduct and continues all the way to the top of the mountain. Much to our surprise, there was also an enormous Sunday crowd at Monteluco… and some kind of flea market. We decided not to get out of the car but did find a quiet spot farther back down the mountain where we could stop and admire the remarkable views over Spoleto. From this point we also looked back up the valley toward Campello and could see the Campello Alto and the tiny speck of our own house on the mountainside. On Scott’s last day with us we drove back over to Tuscany. We wanted him to see something of that beautiful region too—and we wanted a few final hours there ourselves. Cortona was just an hour away. We had lunch, walked around the village, checked out the big church, and visited a few shops. Then we drove over to Montepulciano so Scott could experience a Tuscan wine town. I really wanted to go to the town of Deruta, famous for its ceramics. There are over 200 ceramics shops in and around Deruta. My mother has a large collection of rooster pitchers, many of which come from Deruta. She would find much of Italy a rooster-pitcher paradise! I was determined to visit Deruta in her honor—and to buy some ceramics for both of us. We stopped by for a quick hour on our way to Barb and Art’s, just enough time to visit a couple of shops and—at one large shop that really caught our interest—buy several things we could have shipped home. Our last major day trip in Umbria was to Orvieto, which was highly recommended by Art Skinner. We were so glad he did, because we really liked it. We took a long route over—through Spoleto and then across the mountains. The drive along Lago di Corbara was especially beautiful. Orvieto is one of the old Etruscan cities and sits high on a rocky plateau, actually on top of an extinct volcano. We parked at the bottom of the town, took a funicular up, and then walked through the narrow streets to the famous cathedral. We have seen so many wonderful churches and cathedrals in Europe this past year… and Orvieto is near the top of the list. It was built between 1290 and 1600 to house some important relics (a blood-stained cloth from the Miracle of Bolsena) and stands on a big square surrounded by other important-looking old buildings. The exterior is decorated with mosaics. We just peeked through the bars into the side chapel with the frescoes of the Apocalypse by Signorelli, who also painted many of the frescoes at Monte Oliveto Maggiore near Chiusure. There was a separate charge to see the frescoes, which required going over to the Tourist Office to buy tickets. There we learned that we would have to buy a combination ticket that also included another art exhibit, so we decided to pass on the frescoes. I should know better by now. Of course, I’ve regretted not paying the five euros to see the Signorelli frescoes. I should have let Charley and Kelly wait outside. I didn’t even need to go to the other art exhibit. We had lunch at a good pizzeria near the cathedral and then wandered around Orvieto for the rest of the afternoon. There are lots of tourist shops, many selling pottery and wine. Before taking the funicular back down to the parking lot, we walked along the walls of the old 14th century fortezza, looking out across the valley and the surrounding vineyards. We had hoped to visit Todi (another hilltop town) on this same day trip, but we just ran out of time and will have to see Todi on another trip to Umbria. We took a shorter route home across the valley, passing through the unusually named village of Bastardo. We had an interesting discussion with Kelly about that one! A famous Umbrian tourist spot was actually in Campello—the Fonti del Clitunno, a natural spring and lush garden spot from Roman times. There’s also a fifth century temple nearby. Charley and Kelly stopped by one day, hoping it had a playground, but I never even made it to the tourist spot closest to our house. We also never made it to the upper town of Trevi. So we have several things on our list for another visit…. Unexpected Umbria We didn’t know what to expect from Umbria… and we certainly didn’t expect to like it as much as we have. We love our unique house, which has added so much to our experience. We’ve enjoyed more special times with other people. And we really like the environment—the rugged and rocky mountains, the olive trees, the vineyards, the ancient hilltop towns, the fields of sunflowers. It’s probably natural to compare Umbria to the neighboring region of Tuscany. Although we were only two hours away from our previous home in Tuscany, we found Umbria quite different. At least where we’re living, it seems more rural and primitive. We’re staying in a place where other English-speaking tourists don’t go. But we can drive just 15 minutes and we’re in an Umbria that definitely feels more modern than the Tuscany we knew best. Maybe it’s just that big freeway cutting right through the valley or the factories near Foligno. Or maybe it’s the big American-style shopping mall and supermarket just south of Foligno. It’s quite a culture shock to bump down our mountain road, past the 10th century castle, through the sleepy village of La Bianca, then to the freeway and the Piazza Umbra mall! But then this is one thing I enjoy about Europe: the ancient and the modern sit side by side and it somehow works. St. Francis, St. Benedict, Hannibal, the Etruscans, the Romans… we’re in the midst of thousands of years of history, surrounded by mountains and olive trees, hilltowns and castles… and masses of happy sunflowers. Umbria has been an unexpected delight. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.880 2005-07-19T12:53:03Z 2006-11-05T19:35:53Z

Although the most positive aspect of our trip has been the extended time together, it’s also been the most challenging factor. Since we left Provence in mid-April, the three of us have been together 24 hours a day and 7 days a week, living in much smaller places than we’re used to, without other relationships or much independence. Sometimes all this togetherness is stressful and confining. Here in Tuscany our circle expanded again to include other people and it was good for us. We’ve liked having friends again.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com Our Leisurely Life Other than our six-and-a-half months in Provence, our time in Tuscany is the longest stay of our trip. We haven’t settled down as residents in quite the same way we did in Provence, but we’ve been able to explore Tuscany in a much more leisurely fashion. We’ve enjoyed being able to take the days more slowly, relaxing from the aggressive sightseeing schedule of the previous six weeks. Tuscany covers an extensive geographical area in central Italy, and our base in Chiusure enabled us to reach much of the region. We’ve gotten to know many of the neighboring towns and villages of Southern Tuscany well: the wine towns Montalcino and Montepulciano, Pienza known for its sheep cheese, the old walled town Buonconvento where we do our grocery shopping, the smaller villages Montisi and Monticchiello. One afternoon we visited Sant’Antimo, a beautiful 12th century church set in a peaceful valley below Montalcino, and watched the age-old ritual of the monks’ Gregorian chants. Kelly and I especially like Bagno Vignoni with its beautiful views and hot springs. We’ve spent a couple of lazy days at the Hotel Posta-Marucci, occasionally dipping into the two pools (one hot and the other even hotter) while Charley reads a book in the shade. The whole environment feels like something from another era… older men and women in big white bathrobes stepping into the hot bath to take some kind of cure, everyone (men and women) wearing the mandatory bathing caps. With the advantage of a full month, we’ve also been able to make several longer day trips… to Siena (twice), Pisa and Lucca, Volterra, San Gimignano, Chianti (twice), and Cortona. We visited San Gimignano late one afternoon, arriving in this town of 14 towers after most of the tour buses had left for the day. Chianti is one of our favorite areas, the lush green countryside and manicured vineyards such a contrast to our base in the barren clay pits of the Crete. Outside of Castellina in Chianti we visited a large Etruscan burial mound that dates back to the 4th century BC…. now sitting unattended (and fortunately empty) off the main road. ]]> New Friends in Tuscany We’ve met up with several people from the Slow Travel message board whose vacations have coincided with our time in Tuscany. After six weeks on our own, we’ve really enjoyed being with friends again. I’ve liked meeting the “real people” I’ve gotten to know on the internet. People seem interested in what our family has done: quitting our jobs, taking our daughter out of school, and spending 14 months in Europe. I suspect they’re curious to see what we’re really like too. We first met Libbie in Florence, when we spent the day together in our cooking class. We had hoped to see Libbie again and meet her husband George, and we were able to get together with them twice. The day after we arrived in Chiusure we drove up to Siena (about 40 minutes north) and met Libbie and George on the steps of the Duomo. They had been to Siena before and were excellent guides for our afternoon. Siena is a walled town of about 50,000 people with a beautiful cathedral and a famous fan-shaped square in the middle of town called the Piazza del Campo. Twice a year there is a famous bareback horse race on Il Campo called the Palio, a competition between Siena’s 17 neighborhoods or contrade. We invited Libbie and George to come to our little house in Chiusure for dinner the next night before they left for Milan and returned home to the USA. A few days after we arrived in Tuscany, we had a leisurely lunch with Kim and Chris from New Jersey and Krista and Steve from California. We met at a little restaurant called La Porta, built into the walls of the village of Monticchiello, not far from the larger town of Pienza. Outside the village a beautiful cypress-lined road twists up the hillside, one of the most famous postcard scenes in Tuscany. Both couples have vacationed in this area several times and had good suggestions for our time here. Kim and Chris have daughters about Kelly’s age, and brought Kelly several Judy Blume books. Earlier this year they had helped us get postcards of the Statue of Liberty for Kelly’s goodbye present for her class at the village school in Provence. We drove down to Lake Bolsena in Northern Lazio to meet Wendy and Richard Ashworth, Slow Travel friends who live near London. We first met Wendy and Richard in Cornwall, back on the third week of our trip. Now a year later we were in Italy at the same time. Wendy had several books for Kelly too—wonderful classics like Little Women, Jane Eyre and Rebecca. After lunch in Bolsena, Wendy suggested we go together to a nearby village called Civita di Bagnoregio. The tiny ancient village is perched high on a rocky point surrounded by valleys, connected to the “mainland” only by a high narrow bridge… kind of a Mont St. Michel without any water. This was one of the most unique places we have visited on our trip, and it was fun to share the experience with these two friends. We went back to Siena for a large get-together—nine adults, two teenagers, six small children, and Kelly—at a park just inside the town walls, looking south across the countryside. Four of the adults were expatriates. Christina has lived near Siena for several years, married to an Italian with two small children. She runs a website for expatriates called Expats in Italy. Joanna recently left New York City and bought a house in the village of Castiglione d’Orcia. We found out that she had lived in our apartment in Chiusure while she was in transition. Michael and Alex are filmmakers with two small children who’ve also come to Europe from the San Francisco area. They’re living for a while in Siena, but probably won’t stay long-term. The other three adults were American travelers like us. Julie was visiting her husband’s relatives in Bologna with her two young children. Jan was in Siena to take Italian lessons for a few weeks, accompanied by her teenage daughter, her friend Kris, and Kris’ daughter. Kelly’s love of reading—and desperation for books—is well-known on Slow Travel. Jan was so thoughtful and brought several books for her too. We especially enjoyed our time with Gail and John Hecko from Atlanta. They have a unique travel business called “Chick Trips.” Every spring and fall they rent a big farmhouse just outside the village of Montisi for a couple of weeks… just 15 minutes from our house in Chiusure. Each week they host a group of either 10 women or 5 couples, introducing them to life in Tuscany. They have an interesting approach to group travel… not a typical guided tour. There’s a relaxed communal lifestyle at the large, comfortable farmhouse… a peaceful spot with a swimming pool and views across the countryside. Each week includes a few structured activities (a visit to several Tuscan towns, art lessons, some group meals, and special end-of-week party), but most of the days are open for people to pursue their own interests. Gail and John invited our family to participate in several of their group events over two different weeks, and we enjoyed getting to know the American women in these two groups: several pairs and small groups of friends; two sisters in their 70’s; two sisters in their 40’s; three young women in their 20’s and one of their moms; three middle-aged sisters and their 83-year old mother. Some of the women went on a variety of day trips during their week in Tuscany, while others enjoyed a more leisurely time at the farmhouse and in the local village. Charley and I had a long visit with John and Gail over coffee one day, interested to learn more about their travel business. We joined one of their groups for an open house at a local winery. Kelly was thrilled to participate in the art lessons two weeks in a row, and produced a beautiful black and white watercolor of an olive tree that we’ll frame and display in our living room at home. One day Charley and John even had their own “guys day out” and visited some of the local wine towns. But we especially enjoyed the two parties we attended—including a delicious buffet dinner and after-dinner music. Their tour guide—an Italian man from Cortona named Pino Teresi—is also a very talented guitarist and singer with an extensive repertoire, including many American songs. And their artist friend—a British woman named Liz Cochrane—surprised us all with her great cabaret-style singing. So there we were… under the Tuscan moon… singing “Country Roads Take Me Home” and “That’s Amore” with a group of other Americans… We went back to the La Porta restaurant in Montichiello to meet a family from Atlanta: Leslie, her husband Brent, and their eight-year old daughter Riley. They were spending a week near Montepulciano. Leslie suggested that we meet in the small playground just outside the Montichiello village walls. Riley was the first child Kelly had been with since Provence two months before, and they quickly became friends on the playground. Charley and I liked Leslie and Brent a lot too, and we enjoyed talking about travel, careers and children. Before we all went over to the restaurant for lunch, we chatted with a British woman setting up a picnic lunch for a walking tour group in the park. After lunch our two girls went back out to the playground and helped her pack up the remains of her picnic. She came into the restaurant to have a cup of coffee with us, and then—much to our surprise—invited us all to her family’s home near Cortona the next evening for drinks. We were delighted to have the opportunity to see Leslie, Brent and Riley again, to spend more time in the Cortona area, and—best to all—to visit with a local family in their home. Cas and Pino Nobile (she’s British and he’s originally from Sicily) live with their three children in a beautifully-restored 17th century farmhouse and flour mill, right on the border of Tuscany and Umbria. I really liked the English-style flower garden by the swimming pool. Their company is called Caspin Journeys, and they lead walking tours in Italy and England. They also have a three rental apartments on the property. I would enjoy staying here, especially with Cas and Pino as hosts. We arrived at the Nobiles’ home about 6:30 pm and stayed until after 10:30. They had also invited another vacationing American couple and a couple from Belgium who are regular renters of one of their apartments. The children playing together in the spacious yard and big family room while the adults enjoyed drinks, snacks and conversation outside. A massive thunderstorm arrived just as the sun went down. We moved the tables and chairs under a covered patio, watched the rain, and drank more wine. Our neighbors Zak and Gary were also very friendly and helpful. Zak is from Finland and Gary is from Australia. They run TuscanHouse, an agency that specializes in rental properties in the Siena and Lucca provinces. I had communicated with both Zak and Gary over the past year about the arrangements for our house, and was pleased to find out we’d actually be neighbors in Chiusure. Zak must have spent an hour with us when we arrived, showing us the house and even walking us around the village. Our house had several large stacks of magazines that we enjoyed reading. One sunny morning I was leafing through an old Town and Country magazine and came across an article titled “To Live in Tuscany.” It was a wonderful article about the writer’s purchase of a home in a small Tuscan village, a village that suddenly sounded very much like our village of Chiusure. I looked down at the writer’s name and realized that not only was the village Chiusure, the writer was our neighbor Gary. Charley later asked him if we could have the magazine and if he would autograph it for us. This is a special keepsake of our stay in Chiusure. Although the most positive aspect of our trip has been the extended time together, it’s also been the most challenging factor. Since we left Provence in mid-April, the three of us have been together 24 hours a day and 7 days a week, living in much smaller places than we’re used to, without other relationships or much independence. Sometimes all this togetherness is stressful and confining. Here in Tuscany our circle expanded again to include other people and it was good for us. We’ve liked having friends again. Arrivederci Tuscany Kelly’s favorite restaurant in Tuscany was the little pizzeria in our village called “Le Crete.” She says this is the best pizza she’s had in all of Italy. The restaurant was definitely convenient (a few minutes down the hill from our house) and relatively inexpensive. We ended up eating there five or six times. The first time we tried to eat there—for lunch on a Sunday—several large groups arrived at exactly the same time. We waited 20 minutes at a table and never even got a menu. We decided to leave, and I’m sure our departure—like our arrival—was not even noticed. We’ve never seen a crowd like this at the pizzeria again… maybe it was just a Sunday afternoon phenomenon. Sometimes the restaurant had several tables of diners and once—strangely on a Friday evening, we thought—we were the only people there. The place is run by a husband and wife who seem to do it all, regardless of the number of diners. Between the two of them they take orders, serve drinks, cook the food, arrange the plates, serve the meals, add up the tab, and collect the money. They take only cash. One night when it was fairly busy, a woman who was eating with two friends at the table next to us got up a few times to help the couple serve and clear away plates. We couldn’t quite figure out her role. The man and woman are both friendly, though in a frazzled almost dazed way. The wife seems especially drained by the demands of the restaurant. In the course of our eating there, we got to know this couple fairly well, though we never did exchange names. Our communication was interesting, since they spoke no English and our Italian is extremely limited. We communicated a lot through hand signals and expressions. We did learn that they live in a nearby hamlet called Bollano and that they have a son who lives in America. They were both very kind to Kelly, and the woman especially thought it was very funny that Kelly and Charley always ordered the very same thing every time—Pizza with salame piccante, a spicy sliced sausage. I wasn’t quite so predictable, though I tended to favor pizza Quattro Stagioni—artichokes, ham, mushrooms and olives, each on one-fourth of the pizza. On Monday of our last week, we arrived for dinner at the opening time of 7:30 pm. We ordered our normal pizzas to the woman’s amusement. She brought us our drinks and then brought us an antipasti… three pieces of really good bruschetta… with mozzarella cheese and salame piccante. She told us it was a gift. We had our pizzas and were ready to ask for “il conto” when she brought us three huge pieces of juicy watermelon… also complementary. Our bill that night was 30 euro… an inexpensive meal in Tuscany. Kelly wanted to eat at Le Crete for our last dinner in Tuscany, and so we stopped by on Thursday afternoon to make sure they would be open the next evening. We sat outside on the side terrace. The only other table that night was an older monk eating with a family with a few small children, an interesting combination. When we arrived, we somehow managed to communicate that we were leaving the next morning and that this was our last time there. The woman knew what Kelly and Charley would order… they didn’t even need to say it. I decided to surprise her and deviate from pizza. I tried to order the tortellini. The woman shook her head vehemently. No, no, no. The tortellini wasn’t any good… it was frozen. I should get the ravioli instead, which she made herself. I certainly wasn’t going to order anything the owner of the restaurant didn’t recommend, so I quickly switched to the ravioli. We also ordered the bruschetta with the spicy salami, what had been a gift last time. When the woman arrived at our table with the bruschetta, she told us it was a gift again. Then our pizzas came and my homemade ravioli, which was just wonderful. She brought another plate of ravioli for Charley and Kelly to try… another gift. After our main courses, we ordered watermelon for Kelly, but she brought three pieces and they were all gifts. Then the husband came out to the table, with a bottle of wine wrapped in a bag. He made a little speech and presented us with the wine—yet another gift for our family. We shook his hand and thanked him, and then as we left, we kissed and hugged the wife goodbye. Our bill for our dinner was 29 euro, somehow less than the previous night even though we had ordered a full liter of wine. We had made a connection with these people in this simple little pizzeria. We left with a memory far greater than any gourmet meal in a far finer place… a special ending to our five weeks in Tuscany. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.874 2005-07-01T10:17:25Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

From my perch near the top of Chiusure (1323 feet), I can see almost thirty miles on this clear day… across undulating hills and fields of varying shades of green and gold and brown, broken by just a few drifts of trees. Now I understand why two of the colors in my childhood box of 64 Crayola crayons were called Burnt Siena and Burnt Umber… named for the colors so prevalent in this beautiful part of central Italy. At this time of year—mid June—the color palate seems to change slightly every few days. The real Tuscany truly is like the photos from a calendar’s pages: the lonely farmhouses with the red tile roofs, the fields of grain with the rolled bales of hay, the fading masses of red poppies, the bright yellow broom bushes, the little lanes lined by cypress trees, and (just beginning to emerge in the last few days) the fields of happy sunflowers.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com I’m in Kelly’s spacious and sunny room, reclining in my favorite spot on the chaise lounge next to the wide double window that looks southeast. The windows are wide open and the light breeze is relaxing, almost hypnotic. The bell tower of the old village church is just below me. The bells ring every half hour, even through the night. Four bells, a pause, then two peals of a different bell. It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, and we’re halfway through our laid-back month in the Tuscan countryside. Our little house… an apartment really… is one of several built into the old castle walls in the tiny hilltop village of Chiusure in an area of Tuscany south of Siena called the “Crete”. (Chiusure is pronounced “key-zur-ray,” which I never seem to get right, much to Kelly’s frustration.) Our neighbor Gary told us that Chiusure was likely an ancient village founded by the Etruscans, a pre-Roman civilization that dominated central Italy from about the 8th century BC until the 1st century BC. He said our building probably dates back to the 10th century, which means it’s over a thousand years old. The 10th century… that’s 900-something. The three of us can hardly comprehend this thought. In Knoxville I worked in a 100-year-old “historic” building that I proudly considered old. But in the 900’s—five centuries before Christopher Columbus sailed across the sea—America was undeveloped, a vast wilderness inhabited by primitive Indians. Meanwhile here in Chiusure there was a castle and someone was living inside these same walls where we’re spending our month, cooking their meals on the huge stone fireplace, perhaps even daydreaming by this same window looking out across a view that has changed little in 1000 years. Once America was discovered, progress came quickly. But here in this part of Tuscany, the modern age has developed more slowly. Life is simple on our Tuscan hilltop. La Porta (The Door) and is no longer available for weekly rentals... just longer-term people like us. We have a small front terrace with a big umbrella and a couple of chairs, ideal for sunning, observing village life, and hanging out our laundry. Our massive front door opens to an entrance room… a bonus room of sorts. It’s more than a hallway, but not really a room with a functional purpose other than a repository for our stuff as we come and go. Our main family area (combination sitting/dining/cooking room) is to the left of this entrance, a narrow room dominated by the big fireplace in one corner. The cooking space—including a very old stone sink—huddles in what’s left of that end of the room. A long wooden table with benches on either side takes up about half the floor space in this main room. We could easily seat ten for dinner, though we’d have to be creative about our menu since there’s little space for preparation and cooking. Charley and I have the bedroom off the entrance room, a large room with a queen bed, thick walls and a stone floor. An archway on one side of the room was apparently once part of the castle structure. When the shutters are closed, our room is totally dark and also very cool. A few nights ago, Charley got out of bed in the middle of the night. I heard him stumbling around the room, disoriented, lost in this still-unfamiliar place. He crashed into a small closet door and then into the alcove beneath the archway where we’ve stored our large duffle bags, finally finding the steps that lead up to our bathroom. The next morning he had no recollection of his nighttime wanderings. Kelly’s room is quite literally “across the street”… reached by yet another bonus-type room that extends in an arch up and across the small street below that was once an entranceway into the castle. Kelly’s wonderful room is about a third of our total living space… big windows to the left and right… sunny and bright… with spectacular views in either direction. Even her bathroom has a great view. I’m wildly envious, though the two twin beds naturally made it her room. Fortunately, she prefers to relax in the shady living room and isn’t too territorial about her space… so the sunny spot by the window is my personal hideaway on lazy afternoons. From my perch near the top of Chiusure (1323 feet), I can see almost thirty miles on this clear day… across undulating hills and fields of varying shades of green and gold and brown, broken by just a few drifts of trees. Now I understand why two of the colors in my childhood box of 64 Crayola crayons were called Burnt Siena and Burnt Umber… named for the colors so prevalent in this beautiful part of central Italy. At this time of year—mid June—the color palate seems to change slightly every few days. The real Tuscany truly is like the photos from a calendar’s pages: the lonely farmhouses with the red tile roofs, the fields of grain with the rolled bales of hay, the fading masses of red poppies, the bright yellow broom bushes, the little lanes lined by cypress trees, and (just beginning to emerge in the last few days) the fields of happy sunflowers. I can only see seven or eight farmhouses in the distance, most of them sitting alone on rounded hills, often near a straight line of tall, slender cypress trees or surrounded by umbrella pines. There are a few villages and towns visible on hilltops in the distance… Montepulciano, Castelmuzio and Pienza. A big church sits on an isolated hilltop near Castelmuzio: the 12th century Sant’Anna in Camprena, now famous as one of the filming locations of “The English Patient”. If I lean around the corner of the windowsill I can see Mount Amiata, an extinct volcano 5649 feet high and the highest point in Tuscany. Sheep are grazing in one bright green field a few miles away, clustered closely together… so unlike the English sheep who wander much more independently. When we first arrived in Tuscany, I thought the sheep were white rocks in the distant fields. Their milk is used to make a wonderful cheese called pecorino. Kelly still prefers just swiss and cheddar cheese, but Charley and I really like the pecorino cheese from nearby Pienza… especially with honey. Our village of Chiusure is a small refuge in an unusual and almost desolate part of southern Tuscany called the Crete. Millions of years ago this area was covered by the sea, resulting in a high clay content in the soil. Over the years, erosion from rain and wind has created a pattern of bare round domes and deep cliffs, particularly in the area surrounding Chiusure. Although the area is also dotted with rippling fields of grains, it’s desert-like and almost haunting in some lonely places where farming must surely be impossible. We can spot Chiusure from several miles away when we make the drive up the hill from Buonconvento, the medieval town where we shop for groceries and use a small and very strange internet café. Our hilltop village seems suspended just above the steep clay cliffs. We were anxious to visit this fabled part of Italy that holds such an allure for many Americans. We were especially interested to see how it compares to Provence, an area we now consider almost our second home. Charley and I were a bit apprehensive about the comparison, hoping we would not find it more beautiful or perhaps even like it better. Kelly is always on alert, ready to pounce if we make any comment that might appear to favor Tuscany—she is fiercely loyal to her much-loved Provence. There are many similarities between these two idyllic agricultural regions: ancient histories, Roman ruins, strong traditions, hilltop villages, fields dotted with vineyards and olive trees, spectacular scenery. But there are also very distinct differences in the Tuscan landscape (not as mountainous, rocky or rugged), the cuisine (more hearty and—we think—not as varied or precise), and the people (perhaps more laid-back and open to strangers). We like Tuscany a lot and definitely understand why some people prefer it, but we’re still in love with Provence. I had expected Tuscany somehow to be more populated, but it’s surprisingly rural. There is one big city (Florence with 376,000 residents) and several large towns (like Siena, Pisa, Livorno, and Grosseto), but most of Tuscany is very agricultural…. miles and miles of farmland, vineyards and olive groves… and hills and more hills. Every several miles there’s a village, and here and there a large villa, castle or monastery. The roads meander along the tops of the hills where the views are fine, in no hurry to get to the next destination. “Find a place to pull over,” I tell Charley several times each day. Sometimes we stop to take pictures, but sometimes we just stop to look, to savor the living calendar pages. After our experiences in Rome, Venice, Florence and on the Amalfi Coast where we felt surrounded… actually invaded… by other tourists, I had expected there to be many more tourists swarming over the southern Tuscan countryside, but it’s mostly quiet and peaceful… an oasis of calm for us after our weeks in the popular cities. The tourists are here, but they’re not quite as evident… more dispersed or perhaps more focused on the most famous hilltowns where there are places for visitors to eat and drink wine and shop. Bicycles are popular here in the countryside, and driving can be tricky on the narrow curvy roads as cars maneuver around each other and then around the cyclists. Some of the cyclists are “hard bodies”… the ultra physically fit becoming even more physically fit… sometimes alone and sometimes in a small pack. They travel almost as fast as a car, making steady progress up the hills, wearing colorful spandex suits and matching helmets. They seem to barely break a sweat. Some of the cyclists are on a tour, strung out along the road, often burdened by large matching saddlebags on either side of their rear wheels. Some of the cyclists are local—an older man or woman using the bike as transportation, sitting erect while they make their way home with a basket of vegetables or a few loaves of bread… hardly a cyclist. Some of the cyclists are totally unprepared and miserable… usually a middle-aged man and woman (not in spandex suits) pushing their bikes up a steep hill in the hot June sun. (This is the cyclist I personally most identify with… also hardly a cyclist.) I’m sure the idea of a biking holiday in Tuscany looked like fun when they were studying the brochures in Hometown USA last winter. And then there were the two cyclists I know best—the middle aged man and his eleven-year-old daughter. Kelly and Charley rented bikes a few days ago and spent a few hours exploring the area near Buonconvento. They were among the miserable, reporting back that the hills were challenging—some of them impossible—and of course that it was very hot. Once she walked her bike up, Kelly did enjoy riding down the hills. The little three-wheeled utility vehicles called “Apes” also present a challenge on our drives through the Tuscan countryside. An Ape is a miniature truck that seats only one person, though we’ve occasionally seen two people crammed into the tiny cab. They seem to be primarily used on farms or on tiny villages streets, but many Ape drivers end up on the main roads, puttering along at 25 miles per hour, sometimes with a line of ten cars creeping along the curvy road behind them and waiting for an opportunity to pass. Many of the Italian drivers are very aggressive and obviously late to get somewhere very important—they pass the Apes and slower vehicles like us even on the curves. Charley sometimes pulls to the side of the road to let the tailgaters pass. The motorcyclists are even more aggressive and make me very nervous. Charley will often pass an Ape or other slow driver. I know he’s cautious, but I’m frightened all the same… frightened mainly of the motorcyclist who may fly out of nowhere on our side of the road. But we don’t worry about traffic in our village of Chiusure… it’s off the main road with only two or three streets that can even accommodate the width of a car. Just a handful of more adventurous tourists—often on foot, bicycle or motorcycle—seem to find their way here. The smart ones—or perhaps the lucky ones—climb the short and very steep cobblestone street past our house to the little park at the very top of the village, across from the castle ruins that have been restored into a small senior citizen’s home (a Casa di Riposa or rest home). From the park the view expands beyond what we can see from Kelly’s room—one of the best views in this part of Tuscany, we think—including a clear view of Mount Amiata some 30 miles south and—much closer in the same direction—the famous hilltop wine town of Montalcino. Just beneath the park, in a valley surrounded by clay pits and shaded by a mass of large cypresses, is the beautiful Mount Oliveto Maggiore, a 14th century Benedictine monastery and one of the biggest tourist draws in this area. The monastery cloisters feature a wonderful series of 36 frescoes portraying the life of St. Benedict, painted by two different artists between 1495 and 1508. The more mobile residents of the Casa di Riposa make their way up and down the steep hill beside our house several times a day. Actually about half the people in our village of 150 people seem to be elderly. Although about 20 people live at the rest home, many of the older people live in the red-brick houses that line the little streets of our village. They care for their geraniums and roses, planted in big terracotta pots outside their doorways. Or they tend to their vegetables in small plots tucked here and there on the hillside…tomatoes, artichokes, herbs, lettuce. Each afternoon many of the older residents sit together outside their houses, each one in a white plastic chair. They place their chairs right up against their houses along the narrow street, leaving just enough room for a car to pass by. They perk up to watch as the occasional tourists come and go. We haven’t learned enough Italian to exchange more than smiles and social pleasantries. We greet our neighbors as we pass them in the village, and everyone is always friendly in return. We must seem more familiar now that our stay has extended beyond a normal one-week rental. “Buon giorno, signora” we say in the morning, nodding our heads politely to the little white haired woman in the flowered housedress. After lunch the greeting changes. “Buono sera,” we say to the group in the white chairs, or sometimes just “Sera.” Our village has just a few small service businesses: a post office, a hair salon, a bar, a pizzeria, a little general store. You can buy stamps at this post office, but you must go to a larger town to mail a package. One Friday afternoon we saw a fruit and vegetable truck set up in the square. The osteria in the tiny main square is apparently new, several outdoor tables arranged around the old cistern. We’ve eaten there twice—we liked the environment but our meals were expensive and the limited menu didn’t really interest us. The real heart of Chiusure is just up from the square and less than a minute from our front door—the village tabacchi, a small general store that’s open in the morning, closes for much of the afternoon and then opens again till 10 pm. Every evening a group of villagers gathers outside the tabacchi door, sitting in their plastic white chairs or on the brick wall nearby, a pleasant respite from their small, hot houses. One evening Kelly even noticed one of the women shelling peas while she visited with her neighbors. Their voices and laughter carry up to our windows above, making us feel connected to the rhythm of village life. Although it’s not a restaurant, the husband and wife who run the tabacchi somehow seem to cater meals a few times a week. We’ve seen groups of 20 people eating at tables set up outside on the pavement, one afternoon a group of Germans who emerged from a tour bus and streamed through the village. A few evenings after we arrived, a group brought out songbooks and sang in beautiful harmony for an hour after their meal. How strange it was to hear the song “Yesterday” in Italian-accented English coming in the open windows of our 1000-year old house. Kelly goes down to the tabacchi almost daily to buy an ice cream or soft drink. The man who runs the tabacchi likes her… he has a big smile and always pats her on the head or shoulder or sometimes pinches her cheek, even if we’re just passing by. A village this small is a comfortable and safe place for a child. We like the little ristorante/pizzeria (Le Crete) at the bottom of the village, also run by a husband and wife team who don’t speak any English. The first time we tried to eat there on a Sunday afternoon, it was jam-packed and we left after we waited 20 minutes and never got a menu. The second time—surprising to us for a Friday night—we were the only ones there. The next time there were a few other tables of diners. Kelly loves their pizza, pronouncing it the best pizza she’s had in Italy. I think she must also like the attention she gets from the man and woman. Yesterday the wife raved about Kelly’s Italian when she ordered her pizza. “Ah, bella Italiano,” the woman said, kissing her fingertips in the air. We arrived in Chiusure after six-and-a-half weeks of serious sightseeing in seven different locations, relieved to be settled in one place for an extended time again and definitely glad to be away from busy and crowded cities for a while. During our stay here we’re also meeting up with several Slow Travel friends who are visiting Tuscany. We’re also glad to be around other people and have some social interactions again. We’ve really missed having friends these last several weeks. With the luxury of a full month here, each day doesn’t seem to matter quite as much. We have a list of things we want to do and places we want to visit in Tuscany, but some days we’re happy to read at home in the morning, go for a drive in the afternoon, and have a simple dinner at our big wooden table. Despite the reminders of the church bells every half hour, we’re much less sensitive to time again. Our surroundings—or maybe it’s the hot Tuscan sun and stomachs full of wine, pasta and pizza—lull us into contentment. Like the villagers on this Tuscan hilltop, we’re more laid-back and friendly here… more relaxed… and happier again.]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.871 2005-06-20T14:10:02Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

Kelly and I were especially looking forward to making fresh pasta. Our pasta dish was ravioli stuffed with pecorino cheese and pears, another combination I never would have imagined. Judy carefully weighed the flour for the dough and then arranged the flour in a “volcano” on the wooden island. She broke two eggs in the crater of the flour and showed us how to slowly mix the eggs into the flour with a fork. We each took a turn stirring until the eggs were absorbed and we had a dough. The dough sat for a while under a towel while we cut up the pears and cheese for the filling. Charley and Kelly kneaded the dough. Judy attached a pasta machine to the end of the table, and then Kelly worked with Judy to pull the pasta through the little machine several times, changing the machine setting every few passes to make the dough thinner and longer. We ended up with two very long piece of pasta dough that we cut into squares. We all helped stuff and form the big raviolis.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com We stood inside the busy Florence train station, waiting for the arrival of the 9:21 am train from Rome. It was our third day in Florence and a day we had looked forward to for almost a year. Kelly held a handmade sign with elaborate decorations. “Libbie Griffin,” her sign said in big black letters. “We are the Woods.” There were pictures of an Italian chef, a pizza, and a bottle of wine. We were at the station to meet my friend Libbie who lives in North Carolina. Libbie is one of several “travel friends” I’ve made on the internet, and I was about to meet her in person for the first time. I had a giddy sense of excitement… like being on the Dating Game and waiting for the bachelor I had chosen to come around the corner. Libbie had responded to one of my very early postings on Slow Travel in the summer of 2003, the one where I first expressed my dream to spend a year in Europe. She not only shared that dream… she and her husband had lived it a year or two before, spending a year traveling around Europe after his retirement. As I began to inch toward our life-changing decision and then to plan our own trip, Libbie was a source of encouragement, advice and great information. I confided with Libbie about our plans long before we told our family and friends. She was a kindred spirit. Now we found ourselves in Tuscany at the same time. Libbie was taking the train up from southern Tuscany to meet us in Florence, and we were all going to a cooking class together, a cooking class with the famous “Diva,” also a regular contributor to the Slow Travel message board.]]> Slow Travel contest last summer. I entered the contest by submitting a couple of trip reports to the website. Various travel-related businesses had donated prizes, some of which were weeklong accommodations in Europe. The prize drawing took place while we were staying in the Cotswolds last July, and my name was one of the first ten drawn. I could have selected one of the accommodation prizes, but since the arrangements for our trip were already set and I didn’t know what we would want to do travel-wise after we returned home, I decided to select a prize that would be an enhancement to our long trip… something we wouldn’t otherwise be able to do. The cooking class with Diva (the Slow Travel name of Judy Witts Francini, whose company is named “Divina Cucina”) was an easy choice for me, the opportunity to learn how to cook some real Italian food and get to eat it too. Judy and I had corresponded over the past year about the arrangements for my class. Although my prize was for two people, she invited our third family member to participate at no extra cost. And when we found out that Libbie would be able to come up to Florence for the day, she made it possible for Libbie to be part of our class too. And now the long-awaited day was finally here… The train arrived and we looked eagerly down the platform for our first glimpse of Libbie. Suddenly there she was beside us. She recognized us from our photos on the internet even before she saw Kelly’s sign. We hugged and chattered like old friends. Libbie had taken the train from Chiusi in southern Tuscany, the town where we left our car when we took the train up to Florence for our four-day stay here. Her husband George decided to take a day off and stayed at their rental in Cetona. We walked through the crowds of tourists and street sellers around the station and made our way to Borgo San Lorenzo, the busy pedestrian street where our apartment in Florence is located. We had coffee and talked in a nearby coffee shop. It was so interesting to finally meet the friend I had corresponded with for two years, and we had lots of stories to share about our travels. Libbie and George had just completed a three-month stay in Ireland. She even had a present for Kelly—an Irish hedgehog figurine for her collection. Before our class we took Libbie up the four flights of stairs to our compact apartment. The two bedrooms are lofts in the steep part of the roof, above our living room and kitchen areas. Our windows are high above the busy shopping street with a view of the cathedral dome just a few blocks away. We showed Libbie our little place, and she snapped a few photos. In the course of our travels, she and I have both become experts on self-catering rentals. I’m happy with this rental I found in Florence… convenient and much better (and economical) than a hotel room for our four day visit. Then it was time to head to our class. Judy’s “cooking studio” is only a ten-minute walk from our apartment, just beyond the San Lorenzo street market and the big indoor Mercato Centrale food market. We had made a little exploratory trip the day before, just to be sure we could find the address…. plus it gave Kelly and I another chance to browse in the San Lorenzo market that sprawls on several streets around the austere-looking San Lorenzo church, once the parish church of the famous Medici family. The market has a couple hundred stalls that are open most of the day… selling blue jeans, scarves, leather purses and belts, jewelry, t-shirts, ceramics, tapestries, paper products, artwork and more. Nearby the illegal street sellers set up their little cardboard stands. They’re selling sunglasses, watches, and bracelets… ready to close up shop and drift into the crowd if a “carabineri” should approach. I was also looking forward to meeting Judy, who has been a helpful resource on Slow Travel too. Originally from the Bay Area, she married a native Florentine and has lived in or near Florence for over 20 years. She told us that she and her husband now live in the countryside about an hour from Florence. She travels into the city a few days a week to do her cooking classes and has a little bedroom in her studio so she can stay overnight. She was very much like her internet persona: confident and easygoing with a big smile and a great sense of humor. The studio consisted mainly of a big kitchen and an adjoining big dining room—a place to cook and then a place to enjoy the food. Judy, Charley, Kelly, Libbie and I sat around the big dining table to get acquainted and await the arrival of our other classmates. Each class member got a special “Divina Cucina” apron and cookbook of Judy’s favorite Tuscan recipes. Our family shared two cookbooks. Kelly was thrilled to have her own cookbook of Diva’s recipes. She was as excited about being with Libbie and going to cooking school as I was. In addition to our group of four, there were three other people in our class: an Asian-American woman (Shannon) and her daughter (Alex) from the Bay Area and a woman named Terry from Sleepy Hollow, Illinois, near Chicago. Alex is a bright young woman who is spending a college semester in Siena; her mother has joined her near the end of the term. Shannon said she was originally from China. Terry is traveling in Italy with her husband and college-aged son. Today is her birthday, and the cooking class was her birthday present. Her husband and son dropped her off and headed out to see more of Florence. We had a very compatible group for our day of cooking. Once the group had assembled, Judy gathered us all in the kitchen and talked about our plan for the day. We would shop at the market, cook a meal together, and then eat our meal. She and her husband would handle the cleanup after we left, which eliminated my least-favorite part of cooking. I liked the fact there wasn’t a pre-planned menu and that Judy hadn’t already bought everything for our group. In fact, she hadn’t bought anything that I could see except for a couple bottles of water. Judy asked if there was anything anyone really wanted to cook today. I said homemade pasta. Someone mentioned artichokes. Kelly asked about fried zucchini and then I raised the possibility of courgette flowers. Someone else suggested steaks. She also asked if there were any foods anyone was allergic to or had a problem eating. A few people mentioned allergies and dislikes. I said that Kelly didn’t eat fish. Based on all this input, Judy suggested a couple of possible ideas for our menu. She said we’d also look to see if there was anything else that looked great at the market today. She picked up her big market basket, and off we all went. The Mercato Centrale is in a big warehouse-type building with glass windows, spread out over two floors. We only went on the lower floor, which was made up of lots of individual open shops. I had expected something like the big outdoor markets we’d loved in Provence or maybe like the big covered market in Barcelona… packed with locals and tourists, but there really weren’t many shoppers on the lower floor. The shops were somewhat upscale and absolutely beautiful, everything arranged just so: fresh meat and poultry, sausages and other cured meats, fish, fruits, vegetables, mushrooms, cheese, wine, olive oil, dried pastas and herb mixes, and fresh flowers. Huge hams and braids of garlic hung above many of the shops. I asked Judy who shopped at this market… where were the throngs of people? It seemed like most of the other shoppers were tourists like us. I thought maybe the restaurant chefs shopped here each morning. Judy said most of the customers on the lower level are the well-to-do people of Florence, because the produce and products are the very best in the city… and expensive too. Occasionally the chefs from the restaurants come to personally inspect the food or see what might be new, but normally they call to place orders and the shops deliver everything to the restaurants in the afternoon. She said the stands on the upper level were less expensive and exclusive, but we never went upstairs. We followed Judy through the market like little chicks following our mother hen. We passed a lot of meat sellers, and Judy stopped several times to tell us about the food. The meat stands displayed their wares in a way we’re not used to in America, several featuring little pig heads with eyes wide open up above their little pink snouts. Some of the rabbits and birds were displayed with their heads, as we had seen in France. I think the heads are left on so the customer knows they’re getting the real thing. Kelly tried not to look at the little pig heads. Judy pointed out a tripe stand. This specialty butcher sells a type of meat very popular in Florence… the lining of the first stomach of a cow. Fortunately it wasn’t on our menu and we didn’t inspect his stand closely. Most of our time in the market was spent at two stands right across from one another, and Judy was obviously a VIP customer. They seemed to be expecting us, so I’m sure she brings all her classes there. The first shop (run by the Conti family) sold beautiful fruits and vegetables, wine, olive oils, and various other specialty items from Tuscany. Several of the family members worked with our group. We tasted several balsamic vinegars of different ages…. unlike any vinegar I’ve ever tasted and more like a thick and very flavorful dressing. The balsamic vinegar tasted especially good on strawberries, a combination I never would have imagined. One of the balsamic vinegars we tasted was 30 years old… and very expensive. There was one balsamic that was 100 years old, but we weren’t offered a taste of that one. We also tasted olive oils and a red pepper jelly made using Judy’s personal recipe. We tasted the red pepper jelly on bits of cheese. We were at this stand for almost 45 minutes… looking, learning, tasting, and finally buying. Everyone in the class did some personal shopping of things to take home. Our family bought some dried fruits for Kelly, a small glass bottle of one of the balsamic oils (not the most expensive one), some of Judy’s red pepper jelly, and a bag of colorful dried pasta. We would have bought much more if we had an easy way to get everything home. Meanwhile Judy also bought several ingredients for our meal… luscious strawberries, perfectly ripe tomatoes, bright yellow courgette blossoms, artichokes, zucchini, pears, and big green beans. She rattled off her order in Italian and the young man and woman at the stand selected the very best produce for her, packing everything away in bags that they held for us while we finished our shopping. Then we went across the aisle to a big cheese shop. Judy said this was the best cheese seller in all of Florence because they sold the high-quality cheese from several countries. I saw some of the French cheeses I was familiar with. We tasted several different cheeses, trying to distinguish the different flavors due to aging. Judy bought some four year old parmesan (a cheese she said she absolutely loves), a two-day-old cheese swimming in some sort of liquid, ricotta cheese, mascarpone cheese, and a very popular Tuscan cheese made from sheep’s milk called pecorino. She even bought Kelly a little slab of English cheddar. We stopped at a butcher’s stand for thinly sliced beef steaks and then at a bakery for some bread and finally a little grocery stand for various other things. Judy handled these transactions quickly while the rest of us gawked at all the wonderful food on display. We traced our way through the market back to the first stand and retrieved our packages. We had done most of our shopping there. Everyone was carrying several bags as we left the big market, once again trailing after Judy. On the way back to Judy’s place, we stopped in a busy little bar with a local clientele. We had a quick snack of wine and sandwiches. Shannon and Alex, the mother and daughter, were adventurous and ate tripe sandwiches. Judy bought several bottles of wine and champagne—more bags to carry. She seemed to know several people at the bar. She also knew many of the sellers outside in the San Lorenzo street market. As we passed by his stand, one man selling leather coats told us he’d give us a 50% discount because we were with Judy. At 1:30 we were back in the big kitchen ready to start our cooking. We helped Judy unload all our bags, and she brought out pretty ceramic bowls and platters to display all our beautiful purchases on the big kitchen island—a photo opportunity before we began our work. Charley, Kelly and I also posed for photos carrying a giant wheel of parmegiano reggiano cheese, acting as if it was terribly heavy. Fortunately it wasn’t real! Judy put out some cheese and bread on the dining table so we could snack while we worked, and she also opened the champagne. The two-day-old cheese was delicious, especially smeared on the fresh Tuscan bread. (Traditional Tuscan bread is made without salt and isn’t good at all without something on it.) Kelly loved the flat focaccia bread. We all put on our Divina Cucina aprons and waited expectantly around the big island in Judy’s kitchen. We were preparing a traditional four-course Tuscan meal, Judy said. She told us our menu and we all obediently wrote it down in the back of our cookbooks: Antipasto: Fritto Misto (stuffed zucchini blossoms, fried zucchini and artichokes), Burrata cheese with olive oil Primo piatto: Pear and pecorino ravioli Secondo piatto: Beef bruschetta (fried steaks with tomatoes, garlic and basil), Germana’s green beans Dolce: Strawberry tiramisu I really enjoy cooking and own lots of cookbooks, but I haven’t taken a formal cooking class since home economics in the eighth grade. Back then I learned how to make macaroni and cheese, sloppy joes and chocolate pudding. Now here I was in Florence, Italy, learning how to make fresh pasta. Many adult cooking classes are primarily demonstrations where the class (usually larger than our group of seven) watches the teacher cook the meal. Judy’s class was different—we all got involved in the cooking and we all had a chance to help with each of the dishes. We were soon busy with knives and whisks and abandoned our note-taking. Kelly was intently involved in the whole process, eager to learn how to cook. She likes being with adults in a situation like this. Charley became less engaged when we started working over the stove and the hot oil; I think at the end the kitchen just got too hot for him, but he definitely didn’t have a problem spending the day with seven women! We started our cooking in the reverse order of our meal and began by preparing a strawberry tiramisu, a variation of the traditional Italian dish that usually involves coffee. Several of us chopped up strawberries, which Judy covered with sugar to bring out the juices. Shannon volunteered to separate the eggs. Terry was really good at using a whisk to beat the yolks and sugar; apparently she has a lot of experience making pastry. Charley also dazzled the group with his whisking skills. Judy folded in the mascarpone cheese while Terry beat the egg whites. Libbie and I laid ladyfinger cookies along the bottom of the pan, and we poured the strawberry mixture over the cookies. Kelly did the final garnishing, carefully shaking cocoa powder to completely cover the top of the frothy dessert. As we worked together to prepare each of the dishes, Judy answered our questions and shared information about Florence, Tuscany, Tuscan cooking and cooking in general. We drank our champagne and the afternoon passed all too quickly. We cut up the flat green beans, which Judy started cooking in a big pot with some olive oil, garlic, onion, herbs and tomatoes. This recipe was from the older Signora Conti, who we had met at the market. Then we moved onto the courgette blossoms. We learned that some blossoms are male and some are female. We reached into the tender yellow blossoms to remove the male and female parts and then stuffed them with a ricotta cheese mixture. We also prepared the zucchini and artichokes for frying. Judy showed us how to remove the outer leaves and trim the artichokes—they were smaller and easier to work with than the big artichokes we’re used to at home. Kelly and I were especially looking forward to making fresh pasta. Our pasta dish was ravioli stuffed with pecorino cheese and pears, another combination I never would have imagined. Judy carefully weighed the flour for the dough and then arranged the flour in a “volcano” on the wooden island. She broke two eggs in the crater of the flour and showed us how to slowly mix the eggs into the flour with a fork. We each took a turn stirring until the eggs were absorbed and we had a dough. The dough sat for a while under a towel while we cut up the pears and cheese for the filling. Charley and Kelly kneaded the dough. Judy attached a pasta machine to the end of the table, and then Kelly worked with Judy to pull the pasta through the little machine several times, changing the machine setting every few passes to make the dough thinner and longer. We ended up with two very long piece of pasta dough that we cut into squares. We all helped stuff and form the big raviolis. Next we made the batter for the fried vegetables, and dipped the courgette blossoms, zucchini sticks, and artichoke hearts into the batter. Our last preparation involved the beef steaks. Some class members chopped the tomatoes that would top the cooked meat. Others dipped the thinly sliced steaks into flour, egg and breadcrumbs. I was impressed that Kelly volunteered to help with the beef. She usually doesn’t want anything to do with raw meat. At this point, everything was assembled and we were ready to really cook. We boiled the big ravioli in water for just three minutes, carefully removing them from the pot. Judy poured a stringy sauce made with butter and the wonderful parmesan cheese over the ravioli. We fried the battered zucchini blossoms, zucchini sticks and artichokes, and then we fried the breaded steaks. As if by magic, the beans—which had been simmering away this entire time—were ready at the same time as the rest of our meal. A few class members got out plates, silverware, glasses and napkins, and we were ready to eat! Terry’s husband and son arrived to join us for our meal and the young man who was driving Shannon and Alex back to Siena also came just in time to fill his plate. They were all complimentary of our day’s work. We opened red and white wine and sat around Judy’s big table and relaxed over our bountiful meal. Most of us had seconds… Charley and I may even have had thirds. Everything was absolutely wonderful. The steak was especially good with a bit of the balsamic vinegar. The grand finale was the strawberry tiramisu. I had almost forgotten that it was tucked away in the refrigerator. The wine flowed as we ate, and we enjoyed the social time with the rest of the group. I couldn’t believe it was already 5 o’clock. Libbie had to catch her train back to Chiusi in southern Tuscany. We said goodbye to Judy and our classmates and walked Libbie to the train station. It seemed like there was still so much to talk about. We decided to try to connect again at the end of the week when our family is down in southern Tuscany too. We all liked Libbie a lot. “We’d really like to meet your husband,” Kelly told her. We hugged in front of the big Santa Maria Novella church and waved goodbye as Libbie crossed the street to the station. She recommended we come back and visit the church. For me, this was one of our best days in Italy, maybe even one of the Top Ten days of our whole trip. The three of us have been traveling as sightseers in Italy for almost five weeks, visiting Lake Como, Venice, Rome, the Amalfi Coast and now Florence. The natural beauty, history, art and architecture of this ancient country are truly amazing, and at times I’ve found myself almost overwhelmed by it all. Until today, our interactions with other people have been mostly limited to brief conversations with the landlords of our rental places or other English-speaking tourists at the next table in a restaurant. But on this day we were active participants… learning something new, having fun, and engaging with other people for several hours. I loved the informal and open style of our day… our visit to the market with Judy as our guide, learning to cook Tuscan-style in her friendly kitchen, drinking the champagne and wine, eating our wonderful meal, and especially sharing the experience with Charley, Kelly and Libbie. On top of all this, the experience was an unexpected opportunity… a gift, a prize, a freebee, an absolutely wonderful treat for our family… thanks to Judy and Slow Travel. We’ve already realized that after 14 months in Europe, our way of cooking and eating will never be the same. Some new foods got added to our list today: balsamic vinegar, homemade pasta, pecorino cheese, courgette blossoms, and strawberry tiramisu. We definitely plan to buy a pasta machine and start making our own fresh pasta. And we’re looking forward to fixing a wonderful Tuscan meal for a special group of friends when we get home. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.870 2005-06-11T14:18:24Z 2006-11-05T19:35:54Z

This is probably the prettiest spot that we’ve had—and we have had some wonderful spots. We have a glimpse of the sea from the two terraces and a spectacular view across the Valle del Dragone to the hillside (mountainside) rising steeply. The small village of Pontone is just below us on the other side of the valley, and there’s another village or two up much higher. The hillside is terraced most of the way with lemons, grapes, and olives, and we can see a tiny road winding its way up through the terraces. We can hear the church bells from across the valley, and Charley swears he hears the tinkling of little cow bells. We don’t miss the city sounds of Rome. We're enjoying the fresh breezes and the smell of wisteria, jasmine, and (could it be possible?) lemon trees.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com May 14, 2005 Charley said he woke up during the night to the sounds of partying on the streets of Trastevere… people singing in our normally quiet little street at 4 am. This morning he was up early to buy breakfast pastries. The bakery is so close he can make the round trip in five minutes. We had our quick breakfast, and then Charley and Kelly walked to the post office to mail a box home while I finished packing. They were gone an incredibly long time, and the cleaning woman arrived while they were still gone. She started a load of sheets in the washing machine… I had no idea how she would dry them in this small apartment. Many people in the Italian cities hang their wash outside their windows or string clotheslines between two windows. Clothes dryers seem almost non-existent in Europe… I’m not quite sure why. Maybe there’s no room for dryers in the small apartments or maybe there are economic or energy issues. I have a whole new appreciation for my big clothes dryer at home. Charley and Kelly finally rushed in from the post office. They said they had the slowest postal clerk in all of Italy—a trainee. They decided not to try to deal with the two smaller packages for friends, and so we crammed them in our luggage. Five minutes after they returned, we were saying “ciao” to the cleaning woman and heading out the door, carrying our luggage down the narrow steps. We pulled and carried our luggage along the rough cobblestone street to the Piazza de Trilussa. When we were at the Vatican last Wednesday, someone handed us a flyer about a transportation service to the airport. I waved the man away, but Kelly took the flyer and thought it was something we might be interested in. Charley called for information and decided it was a good deal. We were considering taking a tram to the Trastevere train station and then taking the train to the Rome airport. This would have required hauling our bags a long way to the tram stop and then dealing with our luggage on the tram and train. The van service was normally 32 euro for three people, but we paid 40 euro because of our extra bags. A few minutes after we arrived at the square, we were in a very nice van with two women from Boston who were returning home after two weeks in Venice, Florence and Rome. It was a 30 minute trip to the airport, stress-free and well worth the 40 euro… far better than dealing with lots of walking, hauling luggage, a crowded tram, and a train. We went to the airport to pick up our third and final car of the trip, another leased Renault. We arrived at the airport about 10:30. Our appointment to pick up the car wasn’t until 11:30, so we found a table in a nearby snack bar and had drinks and shared a small sandwich. Then Charley called the Renault office, and we waited at a designated place for the person. Near where we were waiting there were at least ten men in ill-fitting suits… there to meet people coming off the international flights. They were all holding big cards with names… drivers taking people to the countryside and tour group representatives. Finally our person arrived and fifteen minutes later we were leaving the airport in a brand new Renault station wagon… just like the car we returned in Milan two weeks ago except for a slight difference in color. The drive from Rome to the Amalfi Coast was about three hours, mostly on a very good motorway (toll road). We stopped for gas a few exits after the airport and then stopped to use the restroom and have some lunch at one of the motorway service areas. We got pizza at a Spizzico, the same chain restaurant that the people we met at Como owned. This was probably the cheapest lunch we’ve had in our three weeks in Italy—11 euros for three big pieces of spicy salami pizza (a quarter of a pie each), two drinks, and a bowl of fruit. Charley said that it was the best pizza he’d had in Italy, but Kelly and I didn’t think so…. his piece was piping hot and our pieces had sat there for a while. The scenery changed dramatically very quickly. Thirty minutes after leaving the Leonardo da Vinci airport in Fiumicino, we were in the Italian countryside… mountains, hilltop villages, farmland, vineyards… even some sheep and cows. Initially we thought the countryside was very pastoral—quite different from the ruggedness of Provence—but then we passed near some rocky little mountains in Abruzzo that reminded us of the Luberon. It was very hazy today and the hills were fuzzy. I’d love to make this drive on a perfectly clear day. We’ll actually travel back up this same road next Saturday, so maybe I’ll get lucky then. Our itinerary in Italy may seem strange, because we’re doing some backtracking. I did have a logic when I put it all together…. though it’s hard to remember now. We visited Venice and Rome back-to-back because we didn’t need a car in either place. Also, I wanted to visit Venice and Rome in the spring (what turned out to be the first part of May), to avoid the heat and crowds later on. And I wanted to get down to the Amalfi Coast while the prices were still lower. So our 11-week itinerary in Italy has been: Como, Venice, Rome, Amalfi Coast (the southernmost place), then back up to Florence, Tuscany, and Umbria. We considered going all the way down to Sicily, but decided instead to spend a full month in Tuscany. I had considered not having a car on the Amalfi Coast because the driving is supposed to be so difficult. I worried that Charley’s fear of heights would make it difficult for him to drive on the steep and narrow coastal roads. But he thought he would be fine and was hesitant to entrust his safety to bus drivers… and having our own car made it easier—and probably cheaper—to get here. It will be interesting to see how we end up getting around the area. We took a route that bypassed the big city of Naples. At Nocera we exited the motorway and started picking our way over to a big mountain range that separated us from the Mediterranean Sea. In some places the route was well-marked—blue signs that said Ravello and brown signs that said Costiera Amalfitana—but we got confused in several places. We passed through a few depressing towns. It was hard to believe this route would lead us to the glamorous destination of the Amalfi Coast. Finally we spotted the signs again and turned up into the mountains. The little road went quickly up the steep hillside, passing fields of lemon trees and other crops. I saw one field of small artichokes. The narrow road twisted and turned, and Charley navigated carefully. Several buses passed us going down the mountain. We reached the top with a choice of two directions—another place where things weren’t clearly marked—and we had to ask for help… just eight kilometers to go. We headed down the Valico d’Chiunzi past the peak of Mont Cerreto at 4343 feet. Finally we were rewarded with a sweeping view of the bright blue sea and houses clinging to the craggy hillside. It was absolutely lovely. Ravello sits high up on a rocky spur separating two valleys, looking across the Gulf of Salerno. We’re renting our villa directly from the owner, a lawyer who lives in Naples. I looked at a lot of options on the Amalfi Coast and considered several different locations. It’s expensive to stay here and would be even more expensive a month or two from now. I thought Ravello seemed more like us—less glitzy and touristy than Positano or Amalfi, famous resort towns which are right on the sea. Parking in Ravello is complicated and the logistics of getting to our villa were challenging, especially with our luggage. Ravello is a pedestrian village with tiny cobblestone streets. The main square in front of the Duomo (cathedral) is very attractive… leafy shade trees, big terracotta pots of bright flowers, and groupings of tables under umbrellas. Well-dressed guests were just arriving for a wedding in the Duomo. We parked in an expensive pay lot below the square and followed our directions to the villa. We carried our backpacks and the computer bag on this first trip. Because my shoulder is still bothering me (not helped by the hauling of luggage this morning), Charley carried my pack. Kelly thinks I’m faking this, but I’m really hurting. This is very unlike me as I rarely have any kind of physical issue. Our villa was a good ten minutes walk from the parking lot, including a fair number of steps, both up and down. It was a tough walk, and I know Charley was thinking about how we would get the rest of our luggage along this route. We passed several wonderful ceramics shops that Kelly and I can’t wait to explore. At one point we passed under the portico of a very old church, the Chiesa di San Francesco. We followed the signs to the famous Villa Cimbrone, which is located just next to our villa. Finally we turned down a steep path (more steps), arrived at a black iron gate, and entered our villa through a pretty garden. Stanislao Frigenti was an attractive man about 40 with a nice smile and a very pleasant manner. His English was very good. He told us his family has owned this house for 25 years, and he showed us some pictures of the ruin the house had been when his father bought it. We had exchanged several e-mails about our rental, and he was interested to learn about our trip. He commented that he knew of several Americans who had done a long trip like this and that this is not something Italians would ever do. I said I thought that was because Italians have a lot of vacation every year, but Americans have relatively little time off work and must be a schoolteacher, retired or leave their jobs in order to have a trip longer than two weeks. Stanislao’s eight-year-old son was with him, and the little boy slipped away brought back ice cream cones for he and Kelly. Very sweet! There is apparently a porter in Ravello who has a motorized cart for transporting luggage from the main square, and we talked about possibly calling this man to help us with our heavier bags. Stanislao thought it might cost 20 euro, so Charley decided to deal with the luggage himself. Charley set off back to the parking lot while Kelly and I were still getting the tour of the house and talking about Ravello. Charley returned 20 minutes later with two of the bags, sweating profusely. While Charley was gone, the gardener came by—Signore Panteleone—an older gentleman who speaks absolutely no English and is missing about two thirds of his teeth. I know this because he gave us a very big smile. I smiled back, using one of my few Italian phrases (“Buon Giorno, Signore”), and I shook his hand, very brown from a lifetime of working in the dirt. We’ll leave the key with Signore Panteleone when we depart on Saturday morning. After Stanislao left, Charley was anxious to get the rest of the luggage to the house and move the car out of the pay lot to a free spot somewhere in the village. I think we will end up leaving our car in this spot for much of the week and using buses and ferries to get around. The three of us walked back to the car and retrieved the other two bags—the large blue bag and the smaller red suitcase. Charley took the bigger bag and Kelly and I took turns with the red bag. A big set of stairs went right up from the parking lot—(equivalent to about a three-story building), followed by the long walk through the village, including several steep places where there was a choice of ramps or stairs. Kelly was happy to take responsibility for our bag when the route was downhill, which it was part of the way. We did see one of the little motorized carts, possibly belonging to one of the hotels. It was a strange mix of a lawnmower, a tank and a sled. After we got the rest of our bags to the villa, we walked back to the center of the village again. The wedding was just ending at the cathedral and the guests were spilling down the steps. Tourists were watching, hoping to get a look at the bride and groom. Charley moved the car while Kelly and I started some grocery shopping. There are several small shops in the village but not a big supermarket. We went to a macelleria (butcher’s), an alimentari (small grocery shop), and a fruttivendola (fruit/produce shop), buying some staples and food for the next two days. At the alimentari, we had to ask the grocer to get many of the items that were behind his counter. Other people were waiting in the crowded shop, and I found it an awkward shopping experience, especially because of our limited Italian. The butcher was very nice and gave Kelly a scrap of meat to feed to a little dog outside. Charley joined up with us (he had been quite successful getting a parking spot), bought two bottles of wine at an enoteca (wine shop), and helped us carry our purchases back. We had a glass of wine, relaxed on our terrace, and enjoyed the evening view of the hillside. Charley says this is probably the prettiest spot that we’ve had—and we have had some wonderful spots. We can’t see much of the sea from here (just a glimpse from the two terraces), but we have a spectacular view across the Valle del Dragone to the hillside (mountainside) rising steeply. The small village of Pontone is just below us on the other side of the valley, and there’s another village or two up much higher. The hillside is terraced most of the way— Stanislao said they grow lemons, grapes, and olives—and we can see a tiny road winding its way up through the terraces. Most of the lemon trees are still covered with a black nylon netting to protect them from the wind. It’s really quite spectacular. Our house is just wonderful—especially the stunning views of the valley. After last week’s disappointing apartment in Rome, I was very nervous about what we would find. Charley said I’ve redeemed myself with another great location. Our house is spacious and spread out over three levels. And we have three outdoor spaces to enjoy as well. On the lower level there’s a big outdoor garden with a covered eating area, lounge chairs, a barbeque and even a wood-fired pizza oven. Stanislao showed Kelly and I how to use the outdoor oven to make pizza, though I’m not sure I remember the instructions. The little yard has beautiful shrubs and flowers, a small vegetable garden, and a big lemon tree that grows up through the pergola shading the outdoor table. Signore Panteleone has done good work! The first level of the house has a large outdoor terrace that extends the length of the villa with a sitting area and eating table. Inside there’s a small dining room and an adjacent kitchen. The first bathroom (with the washing machine) is off the next landing of the stairs. The stairs then lead to the second level and the main living room—bright and spacious with wicker furniture. There’s a comfortable seating area and another dining table. Kelly’s room—with two single beds—is off the living room. Double doors lead from the living room to another big terrace. This terrace has a tightly woven ceiling of vines. Narrow spiral stairs lead up to the third level—a big master bedroom and the second bathroom. The master bedroom is in a cave-shaped room with sloping walls and big double windows at the end. It’s very clean, spacious, comfortable and light. There’s not another terrace, but there is a beautiful view looking across to the other side of the valley and a partial view of the sea. I fixed a quick dinner of kind of a beef stroganoff (I didn’t end up with enough beef once I had cut off all the fat), pasta with butter, and asparagus. I got pretty stressed out while cooking since the stovetop is very small and I couldn’t have all three of my pans over burners at the same time. It took a really long time to get water to boil over the smallest burner. (I had this same problem last week in Rome.) The small kitchen got very hot, and it bothered me that both Charley and Kelly hovering around the stove. “I don’t need any help,” I said. I might have even said, “Leave me alone!” “Calm down Mommy,” Kelly said as I was stressing out over the cooking. It infuriates me to have an eleven-year old tell me to calm down. “You’re never allowed to say that to me again,” I told her tonight, though I really did need to calm down. I just need to plan simpler meals while we are here. We ate our dinner outside and watched the lights flicker on across the valley. We could hear the church bells echoing from the villages of Minuta and Scala on the other side of the valley. I unpacked my things, but Kelly and Charley both begged off unpacking tonight because it was so late. Charley doesn’t want to maneuver his big bag up the twisty stairs, so I’m not sure what he’ll do. I don’t want his suitcase and piles of clothes in the nice living room. He really hasn’t unpacked his suitcase since we’ve left Provence. I personally don’t want to live out of a suitcase for the next several months, and have made a point of really unpacking each week. Ideally I would even like to hide the suitcases. We were sloppy in Rome last week. I think because the apartment was so cluttered, we just let ourselves be cluttered too. I have asked Kelly and Charley to help me keep this pretty place in Ravello looking neat. We read until bedtime. Of course, Charley wanted to sleep with the windows wide open. We don’t have the street noises of Trastevere here… just fresh breezes and the smell of wisteria, jasmine, and (could it be possible?) lemon trees. We already love being here.]]> Sunday, May 15 Suddenly we feel like we are on a real vacation… even though we have been on vacation for eleven months. (Disgusting, I know!) It must be something about being near the ocean. This is such a dramatic change from our last week in Rome—the setting, the pace, the sounds, the smells, and definitely our accommodations. We decided to have a lazy day off today and enjoy our beautiful surroundings. We all slept in, awaking to the sound of roosters and church bells across the valley. Charley walked to the village to get breakfast breads and came back with an assortment of crunchy and sweet pastries that Kelly and I didn’t really like. She hates to hurt Charley’s feelings when he brings her something she doesn’t like. Yesterday at the little market she whispered to me to please get some cornflakes for her breakfast. While I was drying my hair, my pink European hairdryer blew up. I bought this hairdryer in Vienna, on the very first day of my very first trip to Europe in 1991. Charley took the hairdryer apart, but it’s dead. Kaput. We’ll have to replace it. We read on the deck until about 11 am, when we walked into the village. We stopped at several of the ceramics shops and also looked at the menus at a couple of the restaurants. Most of the restaurants have big outdoor terraces and absolutely beautiful views. I loved the pottery of Provence, but the ceramics here are very special too… very substantial in bright, bold colors. Many of the patterns involve intricate geometric designs. Most of the shops have rows of the rooster pitchers my mother collects. I want to scoop up everything. We passed a building with a sign that said DH Lawrence wrote Lady Chatterley’s Lover there. Many famous people have gravitated to Ravello: Richard Wagner, Virginia Wolff, Graham Greene, and Gore Vidal. One of my guidebooks says this: “Ravello was rediscovered by a variety of writers and artists who, between the 18th and 19th centuries, chose it as one of their key destinations on their Grand Tour of southern Italy.” And now here is the Wood Family on Our Grand Tour. Stanislao had given me information about a series of classical music concerts held Villa Rudolfo, a 13th century villa that was the residence of several popes. The villa is located just off the main square. Richard Wagner stayed here and claimed it was the inspiration for his opera “Parsifal.” We bought tickets to a concert on Friday evening… 20 euro each for adults and 10 euro for Kelly, so an expensive treat for us. We walked through a tunnel to arrive at the dead-end road leading to Ravello and a beautiful overlook. From this point you can see down the coast to the south… a broad expanse of water… another incredible view. The main square was already quite busy. People were enjoying coffee under the umbrellas and visiting the Duomo. The food shops were only open a half-day because it was Sunday. We made quick visits to the butcher, the grocery shop, and the produce shop to buy sandwich meats, cheeses, and a couple of other things. We also stopped at the Tourist Office to get a map of walking trails and find out about bus and ferry schedules. We also needed to get a new European hairdryer, since these are not always provided in our accommodations. We had seen a small appliance shop yesterday, but it was closed. We went in a tiny shop marked “Tabachi” (which is normally a newsstand selling cigarettes) but this shop seemed more like a hardware store or little general store. A wizened elderly man was behind the counter. We tried to say the word for hairdryer, finally pointing to it in the dictionary. A taller middle-aged man with a bushy moustache who had been standing outside came in to talk to the old man and help him understand what we were looking for. The old man pulled out a ladder and started climbing up to get a box off an upper shelf. It was a hairdryer, but one much bigger than we wanted. It’s possible that big hairdryer has been up on the shelf for 15 years. And it may be there another 15 years, because we didn’t buy it. I felt terrible about the elderly man climbing up on the ladder and then we didn’t even buy anything. The other man (perhaps his son) took us two doors down the little street to the appliance shop. A man was just unlocking the door. He had just the right hairdryer for 19 euro. We stopped at a big ceramics factory, the largest ceramics shop in the village. They also paint many of the ceramics here. The selection was overwhelming, and they can ship purchases home for a reasonable cost. Kelly and I will visit later in the week for a major shopping expedition. This is a good place to pick up some gifts. Boom! Boom! We couldn’t imagine what it was. An earthquake? A nuclear attack? I looked to see if the ceramics were rattling on the shelves. The woman in the shop told us there was a festival today and these were fireworks. We heard a band playing. When we got back to the main square, it was much busier than before. The band was playing in the shade, near the steps of the cathedral. We stopped and listened until they took a break. There didn’t really seem to be anything else involved in the festival. We had lunch on the terrace of our villa and then enjoyed a siesta. I put on my bathing suit and read down in the sunny garden. Kelly and Charley stayed in the shade on the terrace. Kelly picked some lemons and made lemonade. Every hour or so there was another set of booms. About 3:30 we decided to visit the Villa Cimbrone, literally our next-door neighbor. This villa may date back to the 11th century. In the late 1800s an English nobleman purchased the property set about to develop it as “the most gorgeous place in the world.” I love gardens and these were just beautiful, including a rose garden, various statues, and even a small temple. We wandered along the paths to the very end of the rocky point, where a long terrace lined with marble busts looks out across a wide view of a very blue Mediterranean Sea. This is called the Terrace of Infinity. Gore Vidal wrote that it was the most beautiful view in the world. Kelly and I took lots of photos. When we left, Charley told the woman in the ticket booth that we were living just next door and asked if we could come back tomorrow. She marked our tickets so we don’t have to pay again. We talked about going into the village for a drink, but decided just to stay at home. Kelly is totally engrossed in her current book. She hadn’t even wanted to leave to go to the Villa Cimbrone. I fixed chicken, pasta and a vegetable sauté (ratatouille) for dinner. The butcher had cut up two large chicken breasts for us, which resulted in an enormous amount of chicken. I coated some of the chicken in smashed-up corn flakes. It was a decent meal. I used smaller pots and pans today and had a better cooking experience than yesterday’s stress-fest. After dinner we read and relaxed. About 9:30 pm we heard the sounds of real fireworks and went outside to watch. It was a great display, and from our terrace we had a perfect view of the fireworks over the valley. Monday, May 16 We loved our day on the Amalfi Coast today. Charley went down to the village for breakfast food and found some better soft croissants. He also checked on our car, which he thought he had parked in a “free” spot. There were two notices on the car. The Tourist Office advised him where he could park for free, and he ended up parking along the road about ten minutes from the main square. Charley told us there are 195 steps between our villa and the main square. There are two different routes. One is prettier, but involves a few more steps. We left the house about 10:20 and walked all the way down the mountain to the town of Amalfi. The path to Amalfi from Ravello actually begins just outside our gate on the little passage Via St. Barbara. We probably could have walked to Amalfi in 45 minutes if we had walked straight down without stopping. But we stopped several times to admire the scenery and take photos. The footpath mostly involves steps—Charley counted most of them and said there were over 1300 steps. After our house, the path went mostly through little farming plots—lots of lemons but also vegetable gardens. I think a person could really live down there because of the difficulty of getting anything in or out, and we didn’t see any houses for a long time—just little farming sheds. The path went right underneath the Villa Cimbrone and we could look back up and see the little temple at the end and the terrace with the statue heads and the wonderful view. Eventually we crossed a narrow road, skirted by the village of Castiglione and came into the seaside village of Atrani. We passed through the large square in front of the Church Santa Maria Maddelena and then followed little signs and arrows through the village. The path wound up through more steps… almost like we were going up the steps of a house, but it was a public passageway. Atrani has a pretty main square with several outdoor tables near a fountain, so we sat outside a café and ordered drink. Kelly had a strawberry milkshake. Atrani is right on the sea, and a passageway from the square led to a little beach area. We took a steep route from Atrani to Amalfi that didn’t involve going on the busy coastal road; instead we wound up and around more steps and passageways. We passed a very elderly woman who was climbing the steps with her bag of groceries. Amalfi is a big and busy place with lots of restaurants, shops and tourists. There are several beach areas with colorful umbrellas and beach chairs for rent. I think you have to pay to even access the beach area. The water was a bright beautiful blue, as was the sky today. The mountains tumble down almost to the water’s edge, and the town is built cascading up the steep slope. Between the 9th and 12th centuries, Amalfi was a very important maritime town… an equal to Genoa or Pisa or Venice. The very elaborate duomo—almost Oriental in appearance—testifies to its former prominence. We walked around the town and browsed in some shops. Many shops were selling straw hats and bags and beach shoes. I bought a pair of flip-flops. I saw some huge lemons outside a produce shop… as big as a melon. They’re called “ponciri” and are used in making pastry. While I used an “internet point” located in some kind of travel agency, Charley and Kelly explored more of the town and bought Kelly a flowered sun visor. We had lunch at a restaurant on the beach; the terrace had bright orange awnings and blue tablecloths. Charley and I shared a big caprese salad (very ripe tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella tied in some sort of knot). Charley and Kelly shared pasta bolognaise and pizza. I had a good pasta dish with bacon and tomatoes. Charley and I had big, very cold beers. We talked with an American couple at the next table from Los Angeles who are on their honeymoon. I wanted to see the cathedral, but Charley had found out there was a charge to go in, and he really dislikes the idea of paying to go into a church, although he has done it at a few places. He also decided he wanted to walk back up the mountain to Ravello, a plan that didn’t appeal to Kelly and me at all. So our plan was to split up for the return to Ravello—Charley would begin his long upward trek while Kelly and I visited the cathedral and then we would take the bus up to Ravello. We bought our bus tickets (1 euro each) and then stopped at the Tourist Office to buy tickets for the ferry to the Isle of Capri tomorrow. We plan to walk back down to Amalfi to catch the ferry at 9:30 am. It cost 2.50 euro for me to go in the cathedral but only 1 euro for Kelly. (I don’t have the problem Charley does about paying to see some of these wonderful churches—I don’t know how else these small towns raise the funds to maintain the churches and support the many visitors.) The cathedral sits at the top of steep stairs, the exterior decorated extensively with beautiful mosaics. There are actually two adjacent churches—a duomo and a basilica. Parts of the basilica date to the 9th century. The old basilica is now a museum and there are remnants of old wall paintings. The cathedral is dedicated to St. Andrew the Apostle (the patron saint of fishermen) and his body was brought here in 1206 from Constantinople. The crypt is underneath the cathedral and is absolutely beautiful; the relics of St. Andrew are kept there. There are lots of paintings of St. Andrew—some as an apostle, some of his torture and death. It was definitely worth 2.50 euro to see all this. I got a gelato and Kelly got a shaved ice drink and then we rushed over to catch the bus to Ravello. At this time of year the bus runs just once an hour, so we wanted to be on the 3:35 bus. The bus was crowded and a few people had to stand, but we got seats. I was on the aisle and couldn’t really see the road, but the road was very narrow and went steeply up the mountain. At one point the bus and several cars had to back down the mountain to let some other traffic pass. Charley would not have enjoyed this trip. (Maybe that’s why he decided to walk up 1300 steps??) I had read that the bus drivers are very skilled… I hoped that was true! Kelly and I talked with eight women from Illinois who are renting a villa near Positano for a week. They were very interested in our trip. Kelly desperately wanted to invite them to our villa for lemonade, but I thought it was too big of a group. They didn’t know much about Ravello, and we suggested they visit the Villa Cimbrione. (Later Kelly and I were sitting on our patio and saw some of them going by on the path just above. I called out to them, and it was neat to see their reaction when they realized our villa was right by the Villa Cimbrone.) On the way from the bus stop back to our villa, Kelly and I stopped at a little limoncello “factory” that was offering free tastings. Limoncello is a local specialty, a liquor made from lemons. The woman gave me a little glass of the cold limoncello and… whew! It really had a sharp kick. She offered Kelly a taste too, but Kelly always declines any offers to taste anything alcoholic. We would like her to taste wine, but she’s not at all interested… probably a good thing. I bought a bottle of limoncello. Charley was waiting on the patio when Kelly and I got back. He had arrived a few minutes before and didn’t seem too wiped out from his hike back up the 1300 steps. He said he had even stopped to chat with a couple from England for 20 minutes. Kelly was buried in her book (the long Maeve Binchy book I bought in Rome), so Charley and I decided to use our return ticket and go back to Villa Cimbrone for a short walk. There weren’t many people there at all at 5 pm, but I did see three of the women from the bus. We walked down to the Terrace of Infinity again (there were only two other people there today) and then wandered back to the gate taking photos and enjoying the pretty gardens. I fixed a Ready-Steady-Cook meal tonight, using leftovers from our last two dinners. We are definitely eating a lot of pasta in Italy. Kelly and Charley took their showers tonight. The hot water tanks are small, and we can’t take back-to-back showers in the same shower. In fact, we’ve learned that you really need to take a five-minute shower to make sure you have enough hot water. We also did laundry tonight. Stanislao asked us to turn off the hot water and just do laundry in cold water so we didn’t overload the electrical system. All this is a small price to pay for our week in what truly is a paradise! Tuesday, May 17 Today was another wonderful day… we took the ferry to the Isle of Capri. We set the alarm for 6:30 am, and I was up for my quick shower before waking Charley and Kelly. We just had coffee this morning and left about 8:00 am to walk down the 1300 steps to Amalfi. This time we only stopped to take a few pictures and moved much more quickly than yesterday. We were intrigued by a masted schooner anchored outside of Amalfi. Most of the steps are higher and wider than a “normal” step, which made the descent difficult—you couldn’t just step down right-left-right-left. Most of the time you ended up stepping down on the same foot every time, almost a hop. I have a feeling we’ll be sore tomorrow after making this trip two days in a row. We reached Amalfi at 8:45, bought our bus tickets for the trip back, and had time for a little breakfast outside a small bar. I was too hot for another cup of coffee and had juice over ice instead. Our ferry left at 9:30 am, though we could have made the earlier ferry at 9:10. There are just two ferries a day going between Amalfi to Capri. (We learned that the name of the island is pronounced with the emphasis on the last syllable.) We talked to some nice people on the dock—two women and two men. I talked mainly to the younger woman (maybe in her late 20’s) who said they were spending 15 days in Italy. She rattled off five or six places they were visiting. Today they were taking a ferry to Sorrento and then a train to Pompeii, which sounded like a long, complicated trip. I didn’t quite understand the relationship of the four people, but Charley later said he thought the two women and the two men had been traveling separately and met up somewhere in their trip. It was a beautiful sunny day. Kelly and Charley sat inside the boat where Charley could be out of the sun and Kelly could read her book. I sat upstairs in the sunshine where I could watch the beautiful coastline. As we moved out into the sea, the view of Amalfi with the mountains rising steeply behind was just spectacular. There weren’t all that many passengers, so there was plenty of room to spread out. Most of the people seemed to be English-speaking. The three people sitting closest to me—two women and a man, perhaps in their mid 50’s—actually stripped down to their bathing suits for the ride. The boat slowed down to move closely to another large coastal town about thirty minutes from Amalfi. It was Positano, another brightly-colored town built up on a mountainside. I thought perhaps we were going to dock and pick up more passengers (though the information at the dock didn’t say the ferry stopped at Positano), but we stopped moving a ways out from the town and there didn’t seem to be a large enough dock. All of a sudden people started climbing up the steps to the upper deck of the ferry. A launch of some sort had brought a load of passengers out from Positano, actually two launches. Suddenly our spacious ferry was packed with people, all headed to Capri. I sat next to a couple who boarded the ferry in Positano, from Melbourne, Australia and on a five-week trip through Italy. The woman said she’s been with her company a long time and gets 13 weeks of vacation a year! We passed a couple tiny rocky islands off the coast that the Australian woman said were the famous Three Sirens rocks (mentioned The Odyssey), now called Li Galli. There was a beautiful home on one of the islands—the woman said this belonged to Rudolf Nureyev. The ferry veered off the coastline and soon the mass of Capri appeared before us. Capri is a small rocky island off the Sorrento Peninsula, four miles long and two miles wide. Roman emperors once vacationed here, and today it is a very popular tourist destination. The small island somehow manages to preserve spots of wild natural beauty while dealing with a huge hoard of day-trippers. The whole trip—including the stop at Positano—took about an hour and a half, and we arrived at Capri around 11:00 am. Ferries from various places arrive at a big harbor, a little town called Marina Grande. Marina Grande was lined with souvenir shops and little cafes. It was kind of a transportation hub for the island and just swarming with people. Taxi drivers and tour guides waited outside each of the arriving ferries to solicit customers for a drive around the island. They drove little open cars with awnings. Tour groups also piled on to small buses waiting near the docks. We lined up with other day-trippers to buy all-day passes to use the public transportation. First we took a funicular up to Capri Town, mid-way up the mountain. This was another busy place but much more upscale, with an attractive square filled with cafes, shops and more tourists. Here we lined up to take a bus to the supposedly more peaceful town of Anacapri, yet further up the mountain. The bus was a miniature version of a typical bus… designed for miniature roads… with only one seat on each side of the aisle. We didn’t get seats on the trip up to Anacapri and found ourselves packed in the aisle with other tourists, trying to hold onto rails and dangling handgrips. I had a very hard time maintaining my balance as the bus started up the steep road to Anacapri. I couldn’t really see out the windows—fortunately, I believe—but the road was narrow, steep and twisty. I’m quite sure that in places we were literally inches from the side of the mountain. In one spot our bus had to back up to allow another vehicle by. Charley was in front of me, literally unable to look or speak. He was white, with his eyes closed… gripping poles on both sides of the bus. Was he praying? His fear of heights and fear of falling seems to have returned. We finally reached the main square of Anacapri, and found it just as busy as our first two stops. We quickly moved down what seemed to be the main street, away from most of the people, and it was indeed a quiet and peaceful place. I was surprised at how many upscale shops there were… selling bright clothing, pretty sandals, coral jewelry and straw purses. In some of the shops there were older men—cobblers—making custom leather sandals for people. I wish I had waited to buy my flip-flops! These sandals really seemed mostly for show and not for the practicalities of walking a few miles a day. Kelly wanted lunch the minute we arrived on Capri and I had put her off until it got closer to noon and until we reached Anacapri. I had hoped to find a place with an amazing view of the sea, which we never did find one in Anacapri. We finally settled on a restaurant with a pretty side terrace lined with bright geraniums right on a square by the XXXX church. I ordered fried courgette flowers as a starter to share with Charley, something we both wanted to try. For my main course I had risotto with seafood. Kelly had pasta bolognaise, and Charley had a caprese salad. This restaurant had absolutely wonderful bread… still hot from the oven. The waiter said it was pizza dough bread. We decided it was by far the best bread we’ve had in Italy. My camera battery absolutely conked out at about this point. I have now taken over 10,000 photos on my camera, and the battery has been getting weaker and weaker, not able to hold a charge for long. Now the battery seems to be dead. I’ll have to rely on Kelly and her camera until I can get a new battery. First our hairdryer, now my camera battery…what will wear out next? We’ve been gone from home a long time. I really wanted to ride the chairlift up to Monte Solaro (1944 feet) where we could get away from the intense tourist environment and really experience the beauty of Capri. Charley wasn’t interested enough in the views at the top to ride the chairlift, but Kelly agreed to go with me. The chairlift was interesting—just one seat, so each person rode alone to the top of the mountain. Kelly was initially hesitant but decided to ride up before me. It took her about 30 seconds to decide that the ride wasn’t scary at all and actually great fun. The trip to the top took 12 minutes, moving quickly past a few hotels and private homes up over top of flower gardens, lemon trees and small farming plots. I was surprised how much agriculture there was on Capri. The views over Anacapri and then over the sea were wonderful. Kelly and I reunited at the top and climbed a short set of steps to a viewing area. We had almost a 360-degree view of Capri and the sea around us, including the famous “I Faraglioni” rocks just off the shore of the island. At the top there was a little bar with an attractive terrace. Kelly and I had ice cream and enjoyed the environment. We started out on a path that led to a jagged point at what seemed the edge of the world, but then remembered Charley and our planned meeting time. I’m so sorry he missed this special place—the chairlift wasn’t at all frightening… not that far off the ground. When we got to the bottom, Charley was waiting in a café drinking fizzy mineral water. He had found another special view at the Villa San Michele, so we followed him past more upscale shops and hotels to a belvedere with another wonderful view. From here we could see down to busy Capri Town and Marina Grande and across to the rugged mountain cliffs of the island. Charley pointed out the narrow road we had taken up on the bus… literally running along a sharp cliff. He wasn’t looking forward to the trip down. By this time it was 3:30 pm, and we had to get back to the harbor for our return ferry at 5 pm. I felt rushed the whole time we were on Capri. The ferry didn’t get there until 11 and we had to leave at 5. The logistics of getting up to Anacapri were time-consuming. I’d like to visit Capri again, but not on a day trip. I think the best approach is to spend a few nights on the island. I’m sure the island is much more peaceful… and romantic… when all the day-trippers are gone. We saw some wonderful-looking hotels. I had promised to buy Kelly a t-shirt. (“Pinky promise, Mom?!”) We had another harrowing bus ride back down to Capri Town. We looked at shirts at a couple of shops. Kelly quickly got frustrated in finding exactly what she was looking for. The tight fitting teenage shirts just aren’t right for her yet. Charley didn’t think she needed a shirt to begin with, so he got frustrated over her frustration. We finally gave up on finding a shirt in Capri Town (where there were just a few tourist/souvenir shops) and took the funicular down to Marina Grande. The marina area had lots of tourist shops and lots of t-shirts. Then Kelly struggled to pick a shirt from several that she liked, even lobbying at one point to get more than one shirt. I couldn’t believe how difficult it was to choose a 10-euro t-shirt. Imagine what it will be like to pick out a prom dress in a few years! The ferry back to Amalfi took about an hour-and-a-half and was a much larger boat than the ferry we had taken over. Charley and I started out sitting up top and outside, but it got chilly and we joined Kelly in one of the interior cabins. We didn’t have a view, but it was a comfortable and warm ride. Ten minutes after we arrived in Amalfi, we were on a bus headed up to Ravello. Charley had a hard time with this bus ride too, as I thought he would. Kelly and I got seats and spent most of the ride chatting with a woman schoolteacher from Melbourne, Australia who was on a three-month trip to various places (Egypt, Spain, Italy) with a friend. We didn’t have any food at our house and ate dinner in Ravello. We walked almost back to our house thinking we would eat at the Villa Maria, a place with a beautiful outdoor terrace near our house. But when we got there, it seemed too elegant (and expensive) for the three of us this evening. After three weeks in Italy, Charley and Kelly are weary of pasta and pizza. I’ve had more variety with occasional veal and seafood. We walked back down to the village and ended up eating at Vittoria, a great little place that was just right for us. They gave us a complimentary aperitif and a complimentary starter of fried courgette flowers… our second of the day, and better than the ones I had paid for at lunchtime. Charley and Kelly both ended up having pizza after all, and I had large gnocchi, almost like ravioli. Charley and I shared a whole liter of wine. We chatted with two couples at the next table for at least half an hour. They were from Canada and traveling in Italy for five weeks. We enjoyed sharing travel stories. One of the men was somewhat familiar with Provence. The two women were especially complimentary of Kelly. They are staying in Ravello and had also been to Capri for the day. Maybe we will see them again… Wednesday, May 18 Yesterday we re-vamped our plan for the week. I had originally wanted to take the ferry to Positano today, but the ferry was expensive and now I wasn’t sure what we would do there. More shopping? An expensive lunch out? We decided we’d rather have a leisurely day at our pretty villa in Ravello. We all slept late. It was cooler today and a bit windy. We had a very late breakfast—Kelly actually made hers an early lunch. Kelly and I sat out in the garden and read. It was warmer in the sun. I wore my bathing suit and worked on my tan, forcing myself to lay on my stomach so I don’t end up with just a front tan. Charley read on the porch. About 2 pm we walked into the village and had a late lunch at The Garden restaurant, looking south down the coast… another absolutely beautiful view. I had fried seafood and sautéed vegetables, Charley had a salad, and Kelly had pasta with butter. Our meal cost too much for what we got, but I think part of the cost was for the view. There’s just one internet place in Ravello and it just has one terminal… in a bar with loud music. Unfortunately there wasn’t a spectacular view like the bar/internet place I used on Lake Como. I spent 45 minutes on the computer, mainly working on arrangements for the next part of our trip. I had a message from Jeanne about the boxes we’ve shipped home in the last several weeks, most of them from Provence. She’s received 17 boxes so far. The two big boxes we shipped from Provence were in very bad shape and one has obviously broken open. She reported that two empty envelopes (addressed to me at her house, which she had sent to me in France several months ago) had arrived separately. I wanted to save the return addresses and had just put the envelopes in one of the boxes. This was a very bad sign. What else could be missing from the Provence boxes? When Charley took over on the computer, Kelly and I left to do our ceramics shopping. We planned to buy several gifts as well as some things for ourselves. The big ceramics place can ship a box to America at a reasonable price. We must have been at the shop for at least an hour, trying to make our decisions. Two very dressed-up and made-up American women were also in the shop fussing over the ceramics. I felt like Kelly and I were from another planet from these two ladies. Their husbands waited impatiently in the courtyard, terribly bored with the shopping but obviously willing to hand over their credit cards. We got a 10% discount for paying cash and ended up buying about 20 pounds of ceramics. We also needed some groceries for the next two nights. We made the rounds of the little shops in Ravello—the alimentari, the produce shop, and then a different butchers shop. The shops didn’t even open up in the afternoon till after 5 pm. The butcher shop we liked didn’t seem to be open today. This new butcher talked on the phone the first five minutes we were in his shop, but then redeemed himself by spending at least five minutes cutting up the chicken breasts for us. Charley was worried about us because we were gone so long. He had actually walked back into the village to look for us, and then made another trip up and back on the 190 steps to take the cash to pay for our purchases at the ceramics shop. It was too cool to eat outside tonight, so we ate in little dining room. I attempted my beef stroganoff again tonight, but still didn’t quite find magical recipe I’d created back in Rome. I think it all relates to the cream. I’m having a harder time with the grocery shopping here than I did in France, where we had a huge supermarket and I understood what I was buying. We also had green beans and pasta tonight. Kelly has been anxious to eat more vegetables. She seems to be eating more responsibly and has definitely slimmed down. We had a quiet evening. We worked on photos and postcards, and we read. Charley and Kelly walked back into the village to get milk and an evening treat. Thursday, May 19 We had planned to go on a day trip today. We initially planned to go to Pompeii, the ancient city destroyed by a volcano in AD 79. Kelly was lobbying to go to Mount Vesuvius, the volcano that did the destruction and is now the only active volcano in Europe. She thought maybe we could go to both places. I didn’t particularly care about going to either of them and left the decision (and the guidebook research) to Charley and Kelly. When we got up this morning, Charley had read the guidebooks and said it didn’t seem we could visit both in the same day… not with an hour and a half drive each way. He had changed his mind and thought we should go to Mount Vesuvius instead of Pompeii. He said we’ve seen all kinds of ancient ruins (especially last week in Rome), but we haven’t ever seen a real volcano. I think he was also trying to support the experience Kelly wanted to have. So we did our morning things and waited to see what the weather would do. It had rained overnight and was cool and windy. Unfortunately, the morning fog never really cleared and by 9 am we could tell it wasn’t going to be a good weather day—not an ideal day for hiking up to the crater of a volcano. We decided to postpone Mount Vesuvius until tomorrow and stay local today. There were still several things we wanted to see in Ravello, and we also wanted to hike across the valley to the village of Pontone and have lunch at a restaurant that had been recommended by our Slow Travel friends from England, Wendy and Richard. We poked around the house until 10:30 and then walked to the village. It definitely looked like rain, so we carried umbrellas. We went to the post office to buy stamps and mail a few small packages to some of Kelly’s friends. We’re sending a lot of postcards since we left France, I think because we are visiting very unique places we’ve never been before. Kelly is faithfully sending a weekly postcard to her class at the village school in Bonnieux—one way for her to keep up with her French language skills. We finally visited the duomo (cathedral) in Ravello, founded near the end of the 11th century. For a small village, it’s an impressive church. The big pulpit is decorated in mosaics, supported on four glittering spiral columns set on the backs of little lion statues. The most important relic in the church is a vial of blood of St. Pantaleone, the patron saint of Ravello. (Charley of course wondered if the saint is an ancestor of our gardener, Signore Panteleone, who we seem to run into somewhere in the village once or twice a day.) The blood of St. Pantaleone miraculously liquefies each year on July 27th, which even more miraculously happens to be the feast day of St. Pantaleone. Charley and I both went into a tiny space back behind the altar where you could get a close-up view of the vial of blood. I’m okay looking at a vial of a saint’s blood… but I’m not that interested in seeing a 2000-year-old arm or leg close up. I also think I’ll also pass on the head of St. Catherine when we get to Siena. Just as we began our walk to Pontone, it started to drizzle. We used our umbrellas most of the way. Pontone is a small village on the opposite side of the Valle dell Dragone, about halfway up the mountain. We can see the village from our house. We used our map of walks from the Tourist Office, and followed the well-marked path, which involved mostly steps again. This narrow path was apparently the main way out of the village until the paved road was built in 1930. In a couple of places we crossed over the twisty road we had taken on the bus from Amalfi up to Ravello. Finally—when we were just above the little Dragone River that runs down the valley—we crossed under the portico of a building to arrive in the yard of a vehicle repair station and then turned right at the crossroads to take the tiny road to Pontone. When we looked up across the valley, we could see our little white house… right at the end of the village with vines across the top of the veranda. Next to our house we could see the gardens of the Villa Cimbrone with the little temple at the very end of the cliff. The road passed through two short tunnels that we can see from our house. As we started into the first tunnel, we heard the sound of bells and then a group of goats—about 20 of them—darted out of the tunnel toward us. Each goat had a little bell, and we were delighted to see a couple of little kids. Charley has claimed to hear bells across the valley at night, and now we’ve found the source. We have no idea where the goats were going, since there didn’t seem to be any easy access to pasture land… and no goatherd anywhere in sight. We climbed up the road in the continuing drizzle to reach Pontone and found the Ristorante-Pizzeria San Giovanni. The narrow road by the restaurant was being re-paved, and as we approached, a man carrying a tray of food crossed the wet cement on a wide board. The kitchen and indoor part of the restaurant were on one side of the street and the outdoor terrace was on the other side. We headed for the outdoor terrace. Kelly didn’t realize the cement was wet and tromped right through the cement, leaving her imprint on the newly paved street of Pontone. The restaurant terrace had a great view of the valley looking across to Ravello, beautiful even in the drizzle. And once again, there was our little house clearly visible on the other side. The owner indicated that several of the tables were reserved, but pointed us to a table for three. We arrived just past noon, and a group of six enjoying a meal at another table. A bit later an English couple arrived and were seated next to us. We found ourselves eavesdropping on the other group—five Americans (three women and two men) and one very talkative Italian speaking English very quickly. After a time it became obvious that he was the tour guide for the group and was very well acquainted with the restaurant and the owner. He ordered the food for the group and gave a detailed explanation of everything they were eating and drinking. He absolutely dominated the conversation. I couldn’t imagine spending 15 minutes with him, much less a whole day. Several of the people in his group sat almost silent through the whole meal. Three bottles were brought to their table at the end of the meal—one was limoncello—though not everyone at the table took a sample. At one point we interacted briefly with a few of the Americans. We pointed out our house across the valley, and they told us that they were on a two-week Mediterranean cruise and rattled off a list of ports in several countries they were visiting… Monte Carlo was one place. The prices were reasonable, and we ordered a lot of food. We had a liter of red wine, a bottle of water, and Kelly’s normal Fanta. They brought us a complementary plate of bruschetta. I had a plate of parma ham and mozzarella (the cheese in little balls) that I shared with Charley. Kelly and I shared pasta arrabitatia. Charley had a veal dish in a lemon sauce, a bit like saltimbocca. I had fried calamari. Kelly had a pizza that she shared. The food came out in a strange order. I’ve noticed that in many restaurants (including in France), when people order different numbers of courses, they bring everyone something on the first round of food. One person may be having their appetizer, but another person who didn’t order an appetizer will get their main course. In America, all the main courses come at the same time, and a person who doesn’t get an appetizer just watch and watches. We struck up a conversation with the two English people at the next table. The husband was a very large man with a great smile and a mop of gray/white hair…. very outgoing and quite humorous with a droll wit. They are staying in Amalfi—someplace they’ve apparently been several times—and had taken the bus up to the village of Minuta and were walking down. The man definitely didn’t seem in good enough shape to make the walk up. We talked about our trip, including our time in England, and chatted about their travels. About the time we were finishing our main courses, the whole environment of our quiet little terrace changed… not for the better, I’m afraid. The cruise ship group and their chatty guide had departed earlier, but now four other big tables filled up with Americans and their Italian guides. We assumed everyone was from the cruise ship, out for a day tour of the Amalfi Coast. The Americans seemed totally helpless with the language, the menu and the food. Their Italian guides—most of them wearing suits and ties—bustled around their groups like mother hens, placing their orders and even carrying their drinks and food across the street from the kitchen. It was obvious they were on a tight time schedule. “Everyone must go to the toilet while we are here,” we heard one of the guides tell his group loudly. We walked around to back side of Pontone and looked down next valley. We could see English couple heading down stairs on the other side, making their way to Amalfi. Our walk back to Ravello was harder… we’d just had a big meal and now we had to go up the steps on the other side of the valley. We didn’t count the number of steps, but we had to stop several times to catch our breaths. The day turned sunny for just a while… wouldn’t you know it, just when we were climbing uphill. We stopped in the main square of Ravello to have cold drinks under an umbrella. We watched the American tour groups moving back and forth, following their guides—one guide held up a closed umbrella; another one held up a fan. After eleven months of traveling in Europe, how did we somehow end up surrounded by Americans here in Italy? “I’m not really sure I like all these American tourists here,” I told Charley. “Why?” he replied. “Do you feel like you’re not so much of a novelty?” That wasn’t it, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Perhaps Italy seems less foreign because so many Americans are here… Or perhaps I watched some of the American and found myself horrified by their clothes, their inability to say even hello and thank you in Italian, their loud demeanor, their intense desire to fit Italy into some kind of American mold. Yesterday at lunch—a very nice restaurant—the American man at the next table… I’m certain in his mid 40’s… was wearing a baggy San Francisco Giants tank top with a pair of above-the-knee khaki shorts. He looked like he was going outside to wash his car. And today an American man sitting at the next table in the square talked loudly on his cell phone for at least 15 minutes… I tried not to listen, but he was so loud… it sounded like he was talking to his office back at home, doing a business deal. “Yeah, I’m sitting here in Ravello…” We walked back to our villa. It really was much cooler today. Kelly and Charley read on the deck wrapped in big bath towels, but I read inside and took a nap. For dinner I fixed chicken, steamed broccoli, and pasta. We ate inside again. I went to bed early. I like this life. Friday, May 20 I woke up around 6 am, the sun streaming in the window. It was a perfect day for our trip to Mt. Vesuvius. This was the first time we have used our car since last Saturday, other than Charley’s two trips to move it to other parking spots. We’ve made some decisions about our trip to Florence on Saturday. My original plan was that we’d take the car to Florence and figure out—somehow—where to park it… likely in an expensive spot. The more I thought about that, it wasn’t an ideal solution. Instead (based on advice from our rental agency), we’ve decided to drive tomorrow to Chiusi—not too far from where we’ll spend our month in Tuscany—and park our car in a safe place near the station. We’ll then take the train from Chiusi to Florence (about an hour’s trip), leaving the car in Chiusi while we’re gone. I have my fingers crossed that this really will be a safe approach. We’ve also decided not to haul all our luggage to Florence for just four days. We’ll leave the two big bags hidden in the trunk space of the car, filled with things we don’t need for the short stay in Florence. Ever since last Saturday when we (mostly Charley) dragged our luggage up and down almost 200 steps to our villa on the edge of Ravello, we’ve been dreading the thought of getting the luggage back to the car. The first 100 steps are all uphill. Charley doesn’t want to pay 20 euro for the man with the motorized cart. Today we decided to take the two big bags with us when we went to the car. We also took a bag of books we hope to trade at a place called The Paperback Exchange in Florence. This way we’ll only have to make one trip with luggage when we leave tomorrow. This plan worked just fine. Kelly and Charley managed the two big bags and I handled the bag of books and the backpack for today. Kelly and I waited at the bus stop while Charley walked to the edge of town where he had parked the car on the side of the road. He swung by to load the bags and pick us up… and by 10:30 am, we were off. We should have researched a little more about the logistics of visiting Vesuvius. Two guidebooks indicated we should drive to the station in Ercoleno (Herculaneum), park at the station, and take a bus. We drove up over the mountain through the Valico di Chiunzi and found our way through a town called “Angri” to the A3 autostrada. From there it was a 30-minute drive toward Naples to the exit for Ercoleno. The impressive mass of Mt. Vesuvius (4190 feet) rose before us on the plain, and we had a spectacular view of Naples and Naples Bay as we began our descent. It’s really a lovely drive over the mountain, though a bit harrowing. At one point—not too far out of Ravello—we came around a curve to find a man herding goats right along the mountain road….perhaps as many as 100 goats in the road. This is a busy narrow road used by trucks, buses, cars and speeding motorcycles! Like the goats we had seen in the tunnel the other day, there didn’t even seem to be a place to graze the goats. Where were they going—and what are they for? Unlike France, where goat cheese is a really big thing, we haven’t heard anything about goat cheese here. Ercoleno was a mess… a big, dirty town filled with vehicles and people. Somewhere in the midst of all this is the archaeological treasure of Herculaneum, an ancient town destroyed by the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 AD and buried in lava. We never did see Herculaneum—or find the station where we could park our car and take a bus to Vesuvius. Charley hated driving in Ercoleno. He’s a very polite driver, unusually kind about beckoning people into traffic and yielding to other drivers. In this culture, though, if you yield to one driver, five others will also follow and no one will yield back to you. “Let’s just give up and go back home,” Charley said at one point in frustration. We’d been driving in Ercoleno for maybe 10 minutes (I’m sure it seemed like an hour to him), and he was tense over the driving and repulsed by the squalor of the town. I wasn’t driving and wasn’t as tense. I sure didn’t want to give up on the whole plan for Mt. Vesuvius and waste our day. I suggested we go ahead and drive to Vesuvius ourselves and figure out how to hike up onto the crater. This turned out to be a good plan given our timing today. (The parking at the top is very limited, so maybe that’s why the guidebooks suggest another approach.) The route to Vesuvius (Vesuvio) was clearly marked out of Ercoleno. We took small roads winding out of the town, so small it was hard to believe the roads were even going anywhere, much less somewhere important. We finally came to a park office, in what seemed to be a family’s home. The woman didn’t speak English, but we somehow understood that the Vesuvius crater was 9 km further up the road and that there were restaurants on the road too. It was almost noon—Charley needed a break and we were hungry. Two or three kilometers ahead we found a restaurant (the Kona Restaurant) that looked decent. They were still cleaning off their outdoor terrace, but we waited a few minutes and then sat outside in the sun to relax and eat. Italians eat later than Americans—their lunchtime doesn’t really start until 1 pm or so, though restaurants may open earlier for tourists. Dinner is probably more typically at 8 pm, though again, places open earlier for tourists. The menu was all in Italian and quite limited (maybe four options for each course), but we had a good meal. The staff spoke just a little English but they were pleasant and polite. Charley had some kind of ravioli and I had some kind of pasta. Kelly had just spaghetti with butter (burro). We had a small bottle of wine and little frozen ice cream desserts. It was a pleasant hour or so in the sunshine and shifted our day away from the 15 minutes of stress in Ercoleno. We wound our way up toward the top of Mt. Vesuvius, spotting our first lava flow. The road twisted and turned and all of a sudden we came upon cars and buses parked on the side of the narrow road and people trudging up and down, to and from their cars. We decided to keep on going and finally parked right at the very end of the road—only 2.50 euro to park. It wasn’t necessary to take a bus after all—at least not at 1:30 pm on this Friday in late May. It cost 6.50 euro per person to enter the restricted area and walk up to the crater of the volcano. We had read that it was necessary to go with a guide, and we thought our tickets were for a guided tour, but every place we asked, they kept beckoning us on, and we never saw a guide. My theory is that all the guides were at lunch. We were just as happy to walk on our own, and it wasn’t unusually dangerous. It’s a bit of a tough walk… a dusty path that winds up the side of the volcano and quite steep. For the first time since we arrived in Venice three weeks ago, we weren’t surrounded by other Americans. The other walkers headed up the path seemed to be German, French and English… but not Americans. The walk was strenuous, and we had to stop a few times to rest. Today was a good science lesson for Kelly. The whole environment is very strange. The lower area of the mountain was unexpectedly beautiful with bright yellow broom, cherry and apricot orchards, and vineyards. Even higher up, scrub and beautiful wildflowers have managed to grow on top of the charcoal-gray lava. But the top it was totally barren and desolate… just the dusty gray rock. There were absolutely beautiful views out across the Mediterranean though. We could see the large island of Ischia off the coast of Naples and the rocky peaks of Capri further to the south. Finally we reached the top of Vesuvius, where the path circles almost halfway around the massive crater and we could look down into the forbidding pit. The crater is 2145 feet wide and 759 feet deep. A plume of smoke trickled up from somewhere deep in the earth. There have been five eruptions in the last 400 years. The most recent eruption was in 1944, so it’s believed they are due for another eruption. The area around Mt. Vesuvius is now densely populated—especially the city of Naples which has a million people. There are even several villages right on the mountain. It surprised us to find so much investment and so many people in an area of such high risk. The walk down was much, much easier. The lunch hour was over, and as we walked down we passed many more people going up… several groups of schoolchildren and also now people following Vesuvius guides. We were glad we had arrived at lunchtime—fewer people and no guides to deal with. We bought a book so we could learn all the details. We had an easy drive back to Ravello, though there was more traffic on the little mountain road and anxious Italian drivers wanting to pass in very dangerous spots. Some of the local people use tiny three wheeled trucks as utility vehicles—one wheel in the front and two wheels in the back. We got behind one of these little vehicles, loaded with stuff, creeping up the mountain at about 10 miles an hour. We couldn’t believe the driver could even get his heavy little vehicle to go up the hill, and I prayed that he had good brakes. Charley finally found a place to pass him. We arrived in Ravello about 4:30. Charley parked the car along the road in another “free” spot and we walked the 30 minutes back to our house. We had tickets to a concert at the Villa Rufolo at 9:30 and planned to have dinner at the Vittoria again. We relaxed at the house, and Charley and Kelly took their showers. I’ll take my shower in the morning when we have hot water again. We had another good meal at the Vittoria, though the service wasn’t as good as the other night. There was a large party in the front room that must have stressed the staff. Our complimentary appetizer today was some type of little salty fish in oil instead of the fried courgette flower, which we would have preferred. I saw other diners with the courgette flowers, so I’m not sure why we ended up with the little fish. Charley and I shared parma ham and buffalo mozzarella again, then he had lamb chops and potatoes and I had grilled prawns. Kelly had a pizza. Charley and I passed on dessert, but Kelly had fresh pineapple. It seemed to take forever to get our check. We arrived at the Villa Rufolo about 9:15 for our 9:30 concert. I had hoped to get a look around the Villa, but it was too dark and they had blocked off access to the other areas. We should have visited earlier in the week. Some of the most spectacular views from Ravello are from this villa’s gardens. Ravello has a music festival for several months each year, with concerts a couple days a week. Our concert featured a pianist, who played six very heavy and dark pieces. We had chosen this concert because the original information said the pianist would play Liszt, Chopin and Beethoven, but when we arrived the program for the evening seemed different and we’re not sure what he played—perhaps all Liszt. He stood and bowed at the end of each piece, but never smiled at all. There was an intermission in the middle and several people left. We really only liked the piece he played as an encore. The concert was okay, not great. In some ways I was glad we went, but I probably would have been just as happy to keep my 50 euros and stay at home and read a book. We walked back to our house through the tiny streets one last time, this time in the dark. It was a late night for us, and we have an early start in the morning. I got to sleep finally around midnight. I have really enjoyed our week here—maybe one of my favorite weeks of the entire trip. I think we all would have liked to stay another week, though we will not miss all the steps!]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.843 2005-06-02T16:01:31Z 2006-11-05T19:35:53Z

Then some holy-type music was played over the loudspeaker. I had expected the Pope to come walking out of the big doors of St. Peters, but he was driven down a ramp in a vehicle (some type of jeep), standing up and wearing his white robe and little white cap. There didn’t seem to be any bulletproof glass… it wasn’t the “Pope-mobile” John Paul II used after he was shot. People went crazy. Everyone stood up and some people stood on their chairs.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com We really enjoyed our week in Rome… one of civilization’s most famous and influential cities. Kelly was the leader for our week of sightseeing, and did a wonderful job researching and planning our activities. She barely let us break for lunch, and we saw most of Rome on foot. It’s a very walk-able city, but we were glad we were in pretty good shape. We visited many of the sites of Ancient Rome (the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Trajan’s Market, Palatine Hill, Circus Maximus). We must have walked inside fifteen churches... filled with paintings and sculptures by the great masters. We also visited many of Rome’s famous squares and fountains—the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain, Piazza Navona, and Campo di Fiori. The highlight of our week was our day at the Vatican City. We were able to attend Pope Benedict XVI’s first public audience in St. Peter’s Square. We also toured the Vatican museums (including Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel) and St. Peter’s Basilica. Kelly and I climbed up into the dome, and then I climbed all the way to the cupola for a wonderful view of Rome. Saturday, May 7 I didn’t sleep well last night and neither did Charley. I think Charley was anxious about the logistics of getting the luggage to the train station on the vaporetto. I was excited about going to Rome, but also found myself thinking of Provence in the sleepless early hours. We’ve been gone for three weeks, and I still miss it a lot. We got Kelly up at 6:30 am and finished getting her big blue bag and Charley’s big bag ready. Although we originally planned to take an expensive water taxi back to the train station, we settled on a better plan that cost us almost nothing extra. We used the 24-hour vaporetto (water bus) pass we’d bought yesterday mid-morning (it was still good till mid-morning today) and took the vaporetto to the station. Charley took the two big bags to the station first and put them in storage, rather than us trying to take all the luggage in one trip. Charley left on this first trip just before 7 am. After he left, Kelly and I took showers and finished our packing. We even had time to sit on the floor and play a game of double solitaire. Charley was back before 8:30, and his trip to the station had gone just fine. The Contessa came down with her little dog Webby at 9. We settled up on utilities and said our goodbyes. She’s a very nice person, and she works hard to run a first-class operation with her four apartments. I like the fact that she still lives in the home that’s belonged to her family for 400 years. We told her how much we liked Webby. She told a story about a bigger dog they had when she was a girl, a dog who normally lived at their bigger palace in the country. One day the dog was at the palazetto in Venice—in the room that’s been our living room—and saw a cat in a gondola on the canal below. The dog jumped out of the window down two stories to get the cat, but landed at the other end of the gondola. We left the palazetto at 9 am, each with a backpack and one rolling bag (I had the computer bag.) It was tricky navigating up and down the steps of the several bridges we had to cross, so I can only imagine how tough it was for Charley with the two big duffel bags. I felt a little sentimental about making this now-familiar trip along the tiny streets one last time. We must have walked the same route least 10 times during our week. I saw the Italian mama from our Thursday night restaurant on the street (the one who I think we offended when Charley had a question about the bill) and I said “Buon Giorno” to her. She recognized me and gave me a big smile. We rode on the vaporetto with two nice American women from St. Louis. We chatted with them the whole way to the station—they were headed to Florence and then Rome…what seems a typical itinerary for many Americans. The boat got quite crowded, but fortunately we boarded early in the route and had staked out our territory. The train station was very busy on this Saturday morning. Charley retrieved our big bags from storage and we waited for our platform to be posted. Our train seemed totally full. I like riding on the trains, but getting on and off the trains is very stressful because of our luggage. It’s hard lugging the bags up onto the train and then finding a place to store them. If I were starting over again on this trip, I would definitely do our luggage differently. We have too much stuff, but it really has been hard to pack for such a long trip that extends over all four seasons. Kelly and I were sorry to leave Venice, but Charley seemed glad to leave it behind and isn’t inclined to come again. I told Kelly maybe she and I will come sometime on a “girls trip.” The trip to Rome took five hours. The train stopped at several places, including Padua, Bologna and Florence. I had hoped to get a good view of Florence, but the route didn’t show us much of anything. We’ll have to wait to see it up close in two weeks. I read a little, dozed off for a while, and looked at scenery. We ate some sandwiches that Charley and Kelly bought at the Venice station. The countryside was very beautiful, and we spotted several castles and hilltop villages. We were especially interested to get our first look at Tuscany and Umbria, areas where we’ll spend a lot of time this summer. Kelly was very busy almost the whole trip working on our Rome itinerary. She is the family “leader” for Rome and is taking her assignment very seriously. We arrived in Rome (Roma in Italian) about 3:15 pm. Kelly was extremely excited—she is especially interested in Rome since this is “her” city. We let everyone else get off the train before us, which made it a lot easier with our luggage. We’ve rented our apartment in Rome through an agency, and I called from the station to let them know we were heading to the apartment. Kelly bought a Rome map at a newsstand, and then we took a cab to our apartment in the Trastevere area of Rome. We all looked eagerly out the windows during our drive across the city—our first time in Rome! It seemed an exciting and beautiful city with ancient history integrated everywhere. There were many more trees than I had expected—even palm trees. We drove along the famous Tiber river (Tevere in Italian), lined with big leafy trees on either side. At one point we passed a big limousine with a bride in the back—the man sitting beside her was considerably older. Was it her father or groom?? Our taxi ride to Trastevere took about 20 minutes. Trastevere (which is “across the Tevere”) is the Roman version of Paris’ Left Bank…kind of a bohemian neighborhood with lots of nightlife. Sounds just the place for the hip Wood family! We passed a couple of nice looking cafes with people sitting at the outdoor tables enjoying a late lunch. The driver let us off a few blocks away from our street—Vicolo del Bologna—since it’s a pedestrian area. The streets are dark and almost gloomy… very narrow and made of old cobblestone. Laundry hangs out the windows of the old, dirty buildings and tiny cars and motorcycles are parked wherever a spot can be found. The graffiti makers have been very busy in this area… it’s absolutely everywhere, and not especially artistic. As we searched for number 20, a woman called to us from a window above the door. It was the owner of our apartment, a woman whose name I never quite understood—Dalu or maybe Daria. Her last name was Jones but also possibly Patane. She told us she had once been married to an Englishman named Jones. The mailbox had four different last names. Maybe her adult daughter sometimes lives here too. I decided just to think of her as Signora Jones. She seemed to be in her 60’s, perhaps even older… white/gray hair arranged in an untidy knot on the back of her head… an art historian who specializes in Islamic art. Her English was very good… that of a very educated person. It was difficult to place her accent—she said she was part Belgian and part Italian but had lived many years in London. Our time with Signora Jones—perhaps thirty minutes—was quite frantic and somewhat confusing. She gave us a tour of the apartment and told us what we needed to know about various appliances. She gave us a map of Rome and made several suggestions of where to go, what to do and how to get there. She answered our practical questions about grocery stores and internet cafes, what to do with the trash, what to do when we leave next Saturday. She was clearly in a hurry to leave… her husband was downstairs somewhere in a car and they were headed to another house they own in the countryside—near Grosseto in Tuscany. Her cellphone rang several times. Her dog cowered in a corner of the hallway. Several plastic sacks and suitcases she was taking with her were scattered in various places. She was very interested in our trip and then—surprisingly and quite seriously—invited us to come visit them in Tuscany… even to spend the night. Finally she bustled out with the dog, in a flurry to meet her husband. Charley helped her carry down some of her bags. He shook hands with her husband downstairs and reported back that the husband seemed much younger. Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door—Signora Jones again, back to pick up several things she had forgotten. The apartment—our home for seven days—was a tremendous shock to all of us, an enormous contrast to the refined and elegant environment of the Palazetto da Schio in Venice. I had looked at a lot of options in Rome and finally found this apartment through a rental agency website. I liked what I saw in the photos—a comfortable décor, lots of books in the living room, two bedrooms, and a reasonable price for Rome. The agency website noted that this was a “subrental,” which meant it was someone’s personal apartment… not an apartment that was only rented out to vacationers. I had e-mailed the agency representative to try to understand this, and he responded that the owner lived mainly in the countryside and that there would potentially be a closet with the owners’ clothes or most personal belongings. The reality is that this is a very much lived-in apartment—a first floor apartment in an 18th century building. I think it’s possible that Signora Jones has had this apartment for 20 years or so, since it certainly seems like there are 20 years of accumulated possessions all over the apartment…. not just stored in a personal closet. I do like the living room—three very comfortable couches covered with pretty blue and white throws and bright sofa pillows, a square blue table with chairs. What was supposed to be a “balcony,” is just a tiny outdoor area—maybe nine square feet—holding the electrical box, a bucket and mop, a bunch of plants, and the large head of a statue. It does provide some natural light into the living room. As I had seen in the website photos, there really are lots and lots of books—not just in the living room but crammed into floor to ceiling bookcases both sides of the narrow hallway. There must be a few thousand books and even a ladder to reach books on the high shelves. We were all excited about the idea of new reading material, and I climbed on the ladder to look at the titles on the higher shelves. Unfortunately, almost all the books relate to Islamic art or Asian history. Although most of the books are in English, there aren’t any page-turning novels. There really isn’t a single book that I want to read and not anything for Kelly. The apartment also has lots of “stuff” on the walls and shelves—personal photos, mementoes, and lots of Islamic or Asian type prints and objects. All the artwork seemed appealing on the website, but the theme hadn’t been evident in the small photos. There are two dresser drawers and a closet for our use. Every other bit of space is filled with Signora Jones’ stuff. Only the refrigerator was totally empty—and absolutely spotless—when we arrived. I didn’t quite know what to do. Kelly was really turned off by the Asian theme for some reason… actually afraid of a few things. And Charley is so fastidious—I could tell he was almost horrified. Was the apartment going to be clean enough for him? I found myself apologizing and even asked if he felt we could stay here. He responded that I’d done a great job with all our accommodations throughout the long trip and that we could make it work. It didn’t make me feel a whole lot better about this particular place. We also had a problem with the bedroom assignments. I had been so pleased to find an economical apartment with two bedrooms so Kelly could have her own room instead of sleeping on a couch as she did in London and Paris. The two bedrooms are off of the book-lined hallway, both with windows out to the narrow street. Neither of the rooms has a proper door—just curtains separating them from the hallway. One room has a queen-sized bed and the other room has a very small double bed. The second room should have been Kelly’s, but she was frightened by some of the Oriental art. The bed in this room is too small for Charley and I to share. We decided that Kelly and I would share the larger bed this week and let Charley have the smaller bed. At least he can sleep with his window wide open. The kitchen and bath are next to each other on the other side of the living room. Both are very small and I could see Charley checking out the cleanliness. It was too depressing to unpack. Charley and Kelly both seemed to plan to live out of suitcases for the week. We went out to get gelato, walked around the neighborhood a bit, and then went to get some groceries at a very small alimentari. There wasn’t much of a selection. Kelly had planned dinner at a pizzeria ( Dar Poeta) she read about in the guidebook that was actually on our street. We walked by, but it wasn’t open. It didn’t seem possible that there was a pizzeria worthy of being in a guidebook behind those closed doors. We went back to the apartment for a while. I did go ahead and hang up a few of my clothes and used one of the empty drawers. At 7 pm we went out for dinner. The Dar Poeta pizzeria still wasn’t open. Some of the workers were sitting at one of outdoor tables and seemed very indifferent to us. The pizza must have been great, because the environment sure wasn’t. We walked on down the street and found an ideal place called Da Otello—a pizzeria and trattoria. The atmosphere was wonderful—just what we were looking for. It wasn’t expensive and the people were nice… and most important, the food was really good! There was a self-service antipasto bar that I ordered… at least 20 different bowls and plates of various vegetables, either marinated in olive oil or lightly fried in breadcrumbs—artichokes, zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes, white beans, olives. I had saltimbocca (veal with prosciutto, sage and white wine) for my main course. This is something I often order at Italian restaurants at home and one of my favorites. Charley had the menu turistico (lasagna, saltimbocca, and dessert). Kelly had a spicy pasta (arrabbiata) that she really enjoyed and then chicken. Two musicians came inside and played for a few minutes as we were leaving. We paid 41 euro for a good meal and a lot of food. We definitely will go back to this place later in the week. Trastevere was very busy when we left the restaurant at 9 pm. The area is packed with restaurants and clubs—though fortunately our little street is mostly residential and very quiet. On the other streets and squares we saw lots and lots of people… sitting at sidewalk tables or just out walking. We heard music coming from several directions. This is kind of an unusual place for our family to be… we really aren’t hip! Charley said it reminds him of the French quarter in New Orleans. The apartment will take some getting used to, but I hope we can adjust and have a good week. ]]> Sunday, May 8 I didn’t sleep well again last night. Once again we were in a strange place and a new bed. Although Kelly and I had shut the window in our room, it was kind of cold and it was also different to be sleeping next to Kelly instead of Charley. The bright streetlight seemed almost next to the bed. I got up for a while at 4 am and worked on the computer, then went back to bed after an hour or so. My shoulder hurt from dealing with the luggage yesterday. When I did get up, Charley had gone to get breakfast. He found a bakery a block or so away. Kelly is our leader for Rome, and this helped us to motivate her out of bed. We had our breakfast of very good pastries, juice and coffee. Charley has mastered the special little espresso-type coffee makers used in Italy. He brought back the London Times from yesterday... the big Sunday Times we like so much wasn’t available yet. Charley asked us not to use any dishes in the kitchen unless he has washed them first. He’s already set aside a pile of dishes we’re allowed to use. He’s very particular about cleanliness… much more so than me. I keep apologizing about the apartment. How did I screw this one up when there were so many apartments in Rome? Kelly had a detailed plan for the day and carried the map. Charley and I have barely read up on Rome. She has a little notebook where she’s been writing down the things she wants us to see on each of our six full days here. Since she’s not in school, the process of being in charge for a week is an important part of her educational experience. She’s definitely learning a lot about Rome. The day started out overcast. Kelly and I both wore sweaters. We were five minutes into our walk (ready to cross the river) when we decided it definitely looked like rain, so Charley turned back to get our umbrellas. It turned out we never did need the umbrellas and it ended up a very pretty day. Our location in Trastevere is really very convenient. We’re on the same side of the river as the Vatican, just 20 minutes away. We can cross the river and in another 20 or 30 minutes we can reach most of the major sites of Rome. We plan to walk most of the week, though there is a public transportation system. I’ve read some things about pickpockets on the buses, so we may prefer to walk. Charley will use a money pouch hung around his neck here instead of carrying a wallet. I’ve decided to let him handle the money in the Italian cities, so I won’t carry my heavy shoulder bag. We crossed the river on the Ponte Sisto and Kelly began to lead us on her itinerary. She was very official with her map and guidebook, concerned about any possible deviation to her plan. Our first stop was the Largo di Torre Argentina, a huge excavation of old Roman temple ruins that wasn’t discovered until the 1920s. It sits right in the middle of the more modern city, surrounded by shops. Julius Caesar was actually killed here in 44 BC. As we were leaning down looking at the ruins below, we noticed several cats—maybe 30 or more—wandering around in the ruins. Then I saw a sign that said “cat sanctuary.” Quite a few people were around the perimeter of the ruins, which sit down in a hole of sorts occupying a large city block. I think most people were more interested in the cats than the ruins. Since our stay in Provence with Chico the cat, Kelly has become a “cat person” and was intrigued by all the cats down among the ruins. There was a small gift shop selling cat items down on the edge of the ruins, but it wasn’t open this early on a Sunday morning. We passed a huge church and decided to go in... the Chiesa (church) del Gesù built in 1568. The church exterior was being restored, and like many we saw in Venice had a giant piece of material covering the front with a picture of the original façade. We like this—it covers the otherwise-ugly scaffolding and lets you see what the real building looks like. This church must have decided to also generate some income for the restoration, since there was a huge advertisement on a part of the covering. We arrived just after 11 am, and the Sunday morning mass was underway—maybe 200 people up near the front of the church. We sat in the back for 20 minutes. I enjoyed the organ music and the singing. The church was absolutely magnificent with painted ceilings in its two domes, lots of gold, and elaborate statuary. We want to come again when we can really take a look around. A bit further on in our walk we came to the Piazza Venezia, a huge plaza filled with flowers and traffic and surrounded by imposing buildings. At the end of the piazza is a huge white building at the top of wide steps… a modern building (finished in 1911)… honoring Vittoria Emanuele II. There’s also a tomb of an unknown soldier here. We took a few photos and crossed the street to window-shop on Via del Corso. We went inside to browse in a wonderful kitchen store. One of Kelly’s major destinations today was the famous Trevi fountain—made especially famous for its role in the movies La Dolce Vita and Three Coins in a Fountain. We could tell we were close by because of the growing crowd of tourists and street sellers. As in Venice, there are lots of African men here selling purses along the street. There seem to be more purses than anyone could possibly need. Why are all the purse-sellers African men? Kelly had read about a possible place for lunch called L’Archetto. Her guidebook said they served spaghetti with 100 different sauces. We stopped by and looked at the menu and the prices—it looked good to all of us. They didn’t open till 12:15 pm, but we decided to come back for lunch. Meanwhile we walked a few blocks to the fountain. The fountain was amazing… an elaborate scene with Neptune and his chariot. Horses and half-naked men seemed to leap out of the rocks. The fountain is almost as big as the piazza and the whole area was mobbed with people. I held my purse tightly. Like everyone else, we took photos, though it was impossible to get a picture without other tourists in it. The tradition is that you throw coins over your shoulder into the fountain and you’ll come back to Rome one day and also get a wish. Of course we all did it, along with all the other American tourists. We enjoyed our lunch at L’Archetto. We decided not to sit outside at a table on the street (Charley didn’t think they looked that appealing right there on the narrow street… he said something about gas fumes), so we ate inside and were just about the first people there. They had a self-service antipasto bar, like the place last night. I had the antipasto bar and then spaghetti with gorgonzola cheese sauce. I loved the antipasto bar and went back twice… artichokes, thinly slices zucchini and eggplant, tomatoes, white beans, mushrooms, potatoes. Everything was cold, some marinated in olive oil and some fried in a breading. Kelly had focaccia (a big pizza crust baked with olive oil, herbs and parmesan) and then spaghetti bolognaise. Charley had bruschetta with some type of tapenade and then spaghetti with pesto sauce. None of us were all that adventurous with the sauces, but they really did have 100 different sauces—only one choice of noodles though. They did have some other dishes as well. We had a very good meal and nice waiter—44 euro, so a reasonable price… especially compared to Venice! Our leader Kelly then took us onto the Spanish Steps, winding our way down the city streets with impressive buildings and various columns and statues. We kept passing good-looking gelato places, but we told Kelly we needed to wait a while for gelato. The tourists who weren’t at the Trevi Fountain were all at the Spanish Steps, located at a big busy plaza called the Piazza de Spagna. The fountain in the piazza was a sinking boat. The wide steps (built in the 1720’s) rise from the piazza to a beautiful church. The piazza and fountain would have been absolutely beautiful except for all the tourists—of course we were there too, so it’s hard to complain. The Spanish embassy is nearby, which is the origin of the name. At this time of year big potted azaleas in full bloom are brought out to decorate the steps—either white or a reddish-purple. The flowers looked better from afar than close up. We took photos among the flowers and sat on the steps for a while. The plaza and the steps were mobbed. There were lots and lots of street sellers—again mostly African: purse sellers, sunglass sellers (sunglasses displayed on some sort of posterboard), and bracelet sellers. The men carried the bracelets on long tubes. The sellers here were very aggressive and a few actually chased after tourists trying to make a sale. We finally walked up to the top of the steps to the big church and another plaza. The church seemed be under restoration and was closed. At least 25%… maybe more… of the churches we’ve seen in Europe are being restored, scaffolding and cranes covering their steeples and domes. There were more sellers at the upper plaza… mostly artists selling their wares… scenes of Rome and big pencil sketches of movie stars like George Clooney, Julia Roberts, and Marilyn Monroe. Who comes to Rome and goes home with a big pencil sketch of Julie Roberts? It’s not a particularly special souvenir of Rome. Some of the artists were doing similar sketches of tourists. A snack truck wanted 4 euro for a bottle of PowerAde, so we only bought water. We did get one good deal though: a pack of decent Roman postcards—20 cards for only 1 euro. Right next to the steps was a Keats/Shelley museum. The English poet John Keats died in an apartment in this building in 1821; he was just 25 years old. We’ve seen the birthplaces, homes or graves of several famous literary figures on this trip (such as Jane Austen, William Wordsworth, and William Shakespeare). I would have liked to add Keats and Shelley to the list, but it wasn’t on the agenda for today… maybe another time. We were also on a mission today to find English language books. Kelly had a list of several possible bookstores and had marked them all on her map. We decided to stop by these shops when they were adjacent to our other plans for the day. I suspect one reason Kelly chose today’s agenda was because we could detour to several of the bookshops. The first two shops were closed, but the third bookshop—The Lion Bookshop—was a real find. It would have been a good bookshop in America. They had a large children’s section and a lot of books that interested Kelly. They also had a big table of two books for the price of one. I worked my way through that pile and found two books for me. I also decided to buy a Maeve Binchy book that was 564 pages long. I gave Kelly a budget of 25 euro (all the kid books were new) and she picked out four books. We tried to pick books that would occupy her for a while. The nice young Englishman running the shop gave us a 10% discount (thanks to Kelly, who asked!) and also gave Kelly a little bracelet-making kit. He told us there are 50,000 English-speakers living in Rome. Many American and English students come here for a year or semester of college. The bookshop also had a little coffee shop—Charley and I had espresso and cappuccino while Kelly agonized over her book choices. Our drinks came with a plate of really good chocolate chip cookies. Kelly led us on through crowded shopping streets to the Piazza del Popolo, another huge and mobbed square containing a 3200-year old obelisk brought to Rome from Greece. The obelisk was surrounded by statues of four huge lions spouting water. On our way to the square we passed several street performers… one was a man doing tricks with birds. We also passed lots of designer clothes and shoe places—Versace, Armani, Prada, Gucci. Rome—like Venice—seems very into fashion. Suddenly I feel awkward and dreadfully unfashionable… I should pay more attention to my shoes and handbags. I typically have a black purse for winter and a beige or straw purse for summer and wear the same few pairs of black shoes for everything. But maybe when we go home I’ll be more fashionable and colorful… more European. We wanted to see the Santa Maria del Popolo church, but it was closed and didn’t open again until 4:30 pm. We would have had to wait more than 30 minutes and we were all were getting tired, so we decided to go on. There were supposedly some very important paintings there… but so be it. Kelly got her gelato on the way back. Charley and I were still very full from our big lunch and didn’t have gelato today. We’ve decided we simply can’t have gelato every day we’re in Italy—combined with all the good pasta, we would just get too fat. Perhaps fortunately, the bread in Italy just isn’t too good… so we don’t have the temptation we had in France where the bread is just so wonderful. We took the same route back to Trastevere. We stopped again at the Largo di Torre Argentina and watched the cats. This time the small gift shop was open. A handmade sign said the shop was a charity to raise money for the cats. The nice woman spoke English and told us about the cat sanctuary. There are about 300 cats there! In addition to the cats out in the ruins, there were quite a few cats inside a small center, some in cages. The woman said people bring them cats from all over Rome. They have a no-kill policy and run an adoption center. They give the cats shots and health care and also spay or neuter all the cats. (We had wondered why we didn’t see any kittens!) The whole program is run by volunteers and she said they get no support from the city. (I don’t know how they got the use of the Largo di Torre Argentina site.) Kelly and Charley enjoyed visiting with some of the cats, and Kelly bought some notecards. Our daughter—now a cat person! We got back to our apartment about 5:30 pm. We were all tired, and Kelly and I were anxious to read our new books. Since we’d had a big lunch, we had a very simple dinner. Kelly had ramen noodle soup and Charley went out and brought back sandwiches for us—they weren’t really all that good, but we didn’t want much. Kelly and I read until very late in our little shared bedroom. She is racing through Grisham’s The Summons. Another interesting outcome of this trip is her transition to adult books. Monday, May 9 Kelly and I both stayed up way too late last night reading. Like mother, like daughter. She was desperate to finish The Summons. I just finished it last week and totally understood how difficult it was for her to put the book down until the “mystery” was solved. I had my 564-page Maeve Binchy book to occupy me. Charley went to bed in his room next door before 11, but Kelly and I stayed up reading in bed until after midnight. I miss my husband, but it’s interesting… fun…different… to be a roommate with my daughter this week. As a result, we were slow getting going this morning. We all took showers, anxious to see how the little shower worked in the tiny bathroom. There’s no “wall” around the bottom of the shower… just a slight slope in the tile down to the drain. Signora Jones had cautioned us just not to stand on the drain hole. The bathroom’s really quite small, so the shower is right by the sink and the toilet. I had visions of water spraying all over the bathroom or of the toilet paper getting soggy, but it worked surprisingly well. We finally left the apartment at 10:30 am. I wanted to go to an outdoor market in Trastevere to get some fresh fruit and vegetables, since there was a very limited selection at the little grocery store on Saturday. We walked about ten minutes to the piazza (square) where we thought the market was supposed to be, but the square was totally ripped up in construction. We did find a larger grocery store and bought a few things while Charley went to the post office. We also found a really good internet café, and I bought a card for five hours to use this week… there’s a nice set-up with terminals in several rooms around a pretty courtyard… lots of light and modern furniture. Charley took our grocery bags back to the apartment while I worked on the computer to check a few things on our finances and trip plans. I worked for maybe 30 minutes, but Charley never came back. Kelly and I wandered down to the big main street (Viale Trastevere) where we saw some clothing stands out on the street. We didn’t’ wander too far from the internet place and kept watching for Charley. I bought Kelly some capri pants at a flea market stand for eight euro. We were worried Charley had gotten lost and couldn’t find his way back to the internet place. By this time it was after noon. Our Rome leader Kelly decided we would just have a Trastevere day, since we had gotten such a late start. She was frustrated with us and our various delays and detours, struggling so hard to be in charge of the day. We walked down to look at St. Francesco a Ripa church but the church was closed over the lunchtime. There’s a famous statue in this church of a woman saint that’s apparently quite scandalous—I was interested to see it, but maybe it’s a good thing the church was closed. We did find the place where the market was set up, and Kelly wondered about buying food and taking a picnic home. I knew we were going to have dinner in the apartment and really didn’t want to have both lunch and dinner in the somewhat-depressing apartment when it was such a pretty day outside. Charley and I pushed instead for lunch at a pizzeria in Trastevere… there are so many places to choose from. “I thought I was the leader for Rome,” Kelly said. “I’m not even getting to decide what to do for lunch.” We ended up eating in the little outdoor terrace of a place called La Scala, not far from the apartment. Charley had a chicken salad and Kelly and I had pizza. I had a “white” pizza with mozzarella, gorgonzola, mushrooms and sausage. Good! Charley and I had beer. The waiter spoke good English and was quite nice. A man with an accordion played outside the terrace for about five minutes and added to the atmosphere. After he played, he walked around the outside of the terrace with his little cup. We’ve decided we like Trastevere. It feels like a large town… not necessarily part of the huge city of Rome. It is kind of a hip place to stay—lots of clubs, restaurants and young people. The tourists here seem more laid back, and it doesn’t seem to be on the tour-bus route. Kelly finally agreed that we’d just make this our Trastevere day and get to know our own neighborhood. We went back to the apartment for about 20 minutes, but went quickly back outside to continue our exploration of Trastevere. We had our daily gelato fix and then walked up a steep hill to Gianicolo, where our guidebook said there’s one of the best views in Rome. It was a strenuous walk, but there was a pretty park at the top with lots of statues of the heads of famous Romans and then a giant equestrian monument. We could see for miles. The guidebook listed Gianicolo as one of the most romantic places in Rome, but it definitely wasn’t romantic for us today. Kelly wasn’t happy about having to walk up a hill and wasn’t interested in seeing any views. She wasn’t happy that we had taken over her day. She was being very headstrong, and then Charley got angry with her and gave her the silent treatment. I was frustrated by the whole dynamic and the turn of events. The views were beautiful, but it was not a beautiful family moment. We tried to re-group as a family and recover our day together. We all wanted to see the Santa Maria in Trastevere church, considered to be Rome’s oldest church (from the 3rd century) and also one of the most famous churches in Rome. According to the legend, the church was founded on a spot where olive oil sprang from the ground on the day Christ was born. When we got to the church, an empty hearse and five men in dark suits were waiting outside. We peeked inside, but there was definitely a funeral going on. We’ll have to go back another day—since this church is close, it will be easy to get to. It was only 4 pm—too early to go back and face a whole evening in the apartment. We found another English language bookstore right around the corner from our apartment (the Almost on the Corner Bookshop)—all new books. I wish we could find a used English bookstore with some great deals. I resisted Kelly’s pleas for a new book. We walked back across the river to look at a shop we’d seen on Sunday that sold only handles. There were some beautiful ceramic knobs… we had tried to find new cabinet door handles for our kitchen before we left home and never found what we were looking for. We saw several things we liked at the handles shop. We walked not far to the big Campo de Fiori and had a drink at an outdoor café. We each tried to independently determine how many cabinets and drawers we have in our kitchen at home… and we each ended up with a different answer. There are probably around 35, so buying handles would cost almost 300 euro… 400 dollars. Since we don’t know what we really want to do with our cabinets, we decided it wasn’t a good move to spend that kind of money on handles now. It was a fun diversion and an interesting reminder of home as we each projected ourselves back into the kitchen we haven’t seen in almost a year. I said it reminded me of one of those questions they used to ask on the Newlywed Game: “How many cabinets and drawers are in your kitchen?” A young boy played the accordion by the tables at the café. Charley had his back to him, and didn’t realize it was a child. Of course, we gave some money. Campo de Fiori supposedly has a wonderful morning market, but I didn’t like it too much in the late afternoon. A homeless looking man kept staring at us and the piazza was just too big and dirty of a place. In the center is a depressing statue of a man with a hood. This was once a place of executions. It gave me the creeps. I finished my beer quickly and suggested we move on. We walked on back to Trastevere, warming up to each other again. Kelly and Charley had a talk after we got home about how we can make the trip go better. We read and I did computer work. I fixed a really good dinner tonight—pieces of steak in a mushroom cream sauce, pasta tossed with butter and garlic, and fresh green beans. Charley and Kelly both asked when I could make this again. We got to bed at a more respectable hour tonight. Tuesday, May 10 Kelly planned a really good day for us today—we saw a lot of Rome and had a very positive family day too. Charley gave Kelly an incentive today: if she could go the whole day without arguing, he would buy her a book she really wanted. The deal was that if she started arguing, he would simply say “book,” and if she continued arguing at that point, she would lose the book. He only had to say “book” one time the whole day, and so she did earn the book. She knows that she is not getting an incentive like this every day, but she’s excited about the book. She already has one picked out. Kelly had studied her books and maps again all evening and laid out a detailed plan for today... another day with lots of walking. We managed to leave about 9:30 am. It wasn’t as pretty of a day—a bit overcast and we probably weren’t dressed quite warmly enough for part of the day. First we walked about 30 minutes down the river to a big fortress called Castel Sant’Angelo, right on the river. It was a pretty walk along a tree-lined road with the river down below…lots of traffic out this morning, the motorcycles zooming to the front at every traffic light. As we reached the castello, we looked back to our left, and we were also right there at St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican City. We stopped at a tourist information booth, and Charley and Kelly went in to find out about transportation to the airport on Saturday morning and also about the Pope’s public audience tomorrow morning. We found out that the new pope (Benedict XVI… Benedetto is his name in Italian) will give his first public audience tomorrow at 10:30 am. I think he just appears on the balcony and waves or gives a blessing, I’m not really sure. It’s open to the public, but tickets are required. We had to go to the Vatican City prefecture to get the tickets, so we decided to go on and get the tickets at that point before continuing with the agenda Kelly had planned. Kelly protested a little about the change in plans, but also seemed intrigued by the idea of seeing the Pope. We walked down the wide street to one of the most famous places in the world—St. Peters Square (Piazza San Pietro, a big and extremely busy place… thousands of tourists from all countries, many in groups. The square itself is imposing and quite incredible (designed by Bernini)—facing the great Basilica and circled by porticoes filled with columns. There are 140 statues of saints along the top of the porticoes. In the center of the piazza—surrounded by tourists—is another ancient obelisk incorporated into a fountain. We saw lots of priests and nuns in the square, the nuns wearing habits in a variety of colors. Some of the nuns were quite old, usually being helped by a younger sister. We even saw a monk… a normal looking man in a loose brown robe tied with a rope, wearing a pair of sandals… and carrying a briefcase. We walked on past and once we were by, Kelly and I turned to each other and gasped, “A monk!” This is not someone we would likely see walking down the city street in Knoxville, Tennessee. Later in the afternoon we passed another monk in downtown Rome. Again, we looked at each other and whispered, “A monk!” We wandered around the square trying to locate the prefecture. The Tourist Office had told Charley and Kelly to look for the Swiss Guards outside. I finally saw a few Swiss Guards by a gate. The Swiss Guards were formed in the 16th century to protect the Pope. They have extremely unusual uniforms… kind of a medieval costume in bright colors of blue, orange and red with short pants, tights, and a big white collar. They wear a black beret cocked to one side. One of the guidebooks said the uniforms were designed by Michelangelo, but another book said they were designed by an Italian seamstress. The Michelangelo story definitely has more appeal! There were three of the Swiss Guards—all young and very clean-cut—and they were doing some kind of saluting exercise. One of them spoke English and he directed Charley around to the other side of St. Peters. He was to look for something called The Bronze Door. We finally had to go through some security gates—joining hoards of other tourists, most trying to visit the Basilica or the Vatican museums, the only two areas open to the public. I think we actually entered the Vatican City when we passed through the security gates. We were looking for something called the Bronze Door. The Vatican City is the world’s smallest nation, totally separate from Italy. It covers 120 acres and has less than 600 citizens. I wonder how many millions of visitors annually? We followed a sign pointing to The Bronze Door and finally saw a couple more Swiss Guards at the top of some steps. A security man said only one of us could go up the steps, so Charley went up and talked with the guards and came back with three tickets for tomorrow. I would have expected a long line of people trying to get these tickets, but there was no one else at all. Supposedly the tickets actually give us seats in St. Peters Square tomorrow. Thousands of chairs are already set up at the front of the square, facing a little stage up on the steps of the basilica. The audience is at 10:30 am, but the gates open at 8:30 am. We plan to be there early. We then walked back to Castel Sant’Angelo, a very imposing circular structure. The castello was originally built by Hadrian from 123-139 as his own mausoleum, but it was incorporated into the city walls and made a fortress for the popes in the 6th century. There’s even a little raised aqueduct that leads over to the Vatican so the popes can hide out over at the fortress. Kelly was interested in touring the castello, so we paid our five euro each (discounted tickets were available only to members of the European Union) and started climbing a circular ramp leading up to the top of the castello. At the top of the castle there were a few papal apartments, a rather large display of armor and old weapons, and (surprisingly) a set of tourist offices for other areas of Italy. There was a really good view from the top ramparts. After our visit to the castello, we walked across the beautiful Ponte Sant’Angelo, a pedestrian bridge lined with imposing statues (more Bernini, I think). We found a little café for lunch on the other side of the river… decent but nothing really special. We all had pasta. From there it was just a short walk to the famous oval-shaped Piazza Navona. The square stands on the site of an ancient sports stadium. The square is just beautiful, including not one, but three big fountains. The most famous of the fountains is the Fountain of the Four Rivers by Bernini, built in 1651. The buildings around the piazza were very impressive—several palaces, a big church, and of course, lots of sidewalk cafes. At one end of the piazza was a big circus tent set up as a bookstore…. unfortunately the only books in English were souvenir type books. On the other side of the tent the piazza had almost a carnival atmosphere—almost overwhelming really. There were the usual purse, sunglass and bracelet sellers, women wandering around trying to sell scarves, stands selling sports shirts and hats, artists selling their work, and several street performers. We had to wave the scarf-selling women away several times. We had some very good gelato…maybe the best we’ve had so far. The best gelato is usually homemade, packed in big tubs often with the key ingredients piled attractively on the top. Charley usually gets cioccolato (chocolate) and pistacchio. I really like the amareno (cherry). Kelly often orders fragole (strawberry) and some other fruit flavor. You can get two or more flavors, regardless of the size of your cone or cup. Today Kelly got greedy and ordered a larger cone than normal…then tilted her cone and lost part of her ice cream. She said she learned just to stick with a smaller cone. Kelly led us a few blocks to the Pantheon, another of Rome’s most famous ancient structures and probably the best preserved. Hadrian built the Pantheon as a pagan temple between 118 and 128, on the site of an even earlier temple. In 608 it became a Christian church. It’s a beautiful and very open building, dominated by a huge dome that is exactly as high as it is wide (142 feet). There’s a huge opening at the very top of the Parthenon that allows a lot of natural light. Supposedly when it rains the water pours down this hole into the building itself. But where does the water go then?? The tombs of several famous Romans are in the Pantheon. We were really only interested in Raphael’s tomb, but it was covered up for restoration. We walked a bit further beyond the busy Piazza della Rotunda, passing shops and restaurants. Kelly led us to the ruins of another structure—eleven huge columns… all that remain of Hadrian’s Temple, built by his son in 145. The columns were surrounded by buildings much more modern (only a few hundred years old). Rome is so astounding because there are so many very old… ancient… buildings here. The more modern city is just built up around them. And who knows what else is still underneath the city? Kelly took us a few more blocks to see a bit of a statue she read about: a huge foot that’s probably over 2000 years old, just sitting on a street corner next to a tiny parked car… all that remains of a once proud statue I took Kelly’s photo by the foot. As we walked away, I heard an American tourist exclaim: “Oh look, what’s this? A foot!” The name of the street is Via Pie’ di Marmo… actually named after the foot! We tried to go to the Gesù church again… the one where we had watched part of the mass on Sunday morning… but it was still closed for the long (very long) lunch hour. So instead we visited the Cat Sanctuary one more time. Kelly has been fixated on buying one of the t-shirts from the shop, talking about this several times a day. She and Charley stayed in the little cat center for a long time visiting with the cats and choosing the shirt. The cat smell bothered me, so I went up to the street-level to wait. Tourists kept walking up to look at the ruins and then spotted the cats—just as we had done on Sunday. I ended up telling several people about the cat sanctuary. They were all very appreciative! We walked across the Ponte Garabaldi back into Trastevere. The bridge passes by the tip of Isola Tiberina, the only island in the river and the site of Rome’s maternity hospital. We stopped by the internet café in Trastevere, but there wasn’t a terminal available and we didn’t want to wait. Instead we decided to try again to see St. Maria church in Trastevere—fortunately it was open, and there wasn’t a funeral. Several women were begging on the wide portico, right by the door. We just walked on by. There are quite a few beggars in Rome… several dirty young people with dogs are based on the bridge we normally cross over to the main part of the city. Today we saw a really pitiful man who was clearly handicapped, and Charley gave him some money. But this week I also spotted a beggar—a woman—arranging herself in her prostrate begging position. She was checking out how much money she had in her little scarf, and as I looked at her, I realized that she wasn’t a woman. I think it was a younger man pretending to be an old woman. Although some of the beggars are very elderly or seriously disabled, others seem perfectly employable. Many use dogs or babies to attract sympathy. There are just so many more of them than I had expected. The Santa Maria Church in Trastevere was worth going back to see. It’s decorated inside and out with beautiful mosaics from the 12th and 13th century. And of course it’s filled with unique little side chapels, a beautiful altar, statues, and paintings. We stopped at the Almost Corner Bookshop to get Kelly her book, and then went back to the apartment for an hour or so to read and rest. We left about six o’clock to go back to the internet café before dinner. We passed lots of restaurants as we walked through Trastevere, all with sidewalk tables. Italians love to eat outdoors, even if the outdoor spot isn’t at all attractive or private. But many of the restaurants we passed have a really nice atmosphere, and some early diners (or drinkers) were already out on the terraces. After we left the internet café, we decided to eat at Da Otello again. We were the first ones there at 7:00, and the staff was still eating their dinner. A nice older man waited on us today, and we also spoke with the waiter from the other night. We got a complimentary aperitif at the beginning of our meal. Our waiter tonight really liked Kelly a lot—he patted her shoulder and pinched her cheek several times. I think he responded to her because she tried so hard to speak Italian. We had a really good meal again, but I ate too much off the antipasto bar…today I went back for seconds. We finished dinner about 8:30 pm and went back to the apartment for reading and our various projects. We are actually amazingly busy… writing postcards, keeping up this blog, organizing our digital photos, researching the next day, making plans for our travel on Saturday. A week’s vacation in a big city is definitely different than a week in the countryside. After two weeks in cities, I’m looking forward to relaxing on the Amalfi Coast next week. Wednesday, May 11 We got up early so we could leave the apartment by 8:30 and walk to Vatican City. It took us about 30 minutes to get there this morning. Once we got near St. Peter’s, we stopped to buy a few “Pope” postcards. Kelly got a Pope keychain. The street leading up the Vatican City is lined with souvenir shops selling Pope souvenirs and religious items…. related to the new Pope Benedict XVI and also Pope John Paul II, who was clearly very much loved. The crowd was arriving for the Pope’s mass audience, which is apparently held every Wednesday that the Pope is in town. This was the first public audience for Pope Benedetto since he was selected just two weeks ago. Many of the people were in groups and identified themselves in some way… schoolchildren in matching ballcaps, adults with matching neckerchiefs. We saw one large group of monks in brown robes and sandals, following a monk carrying a Brazilian flag. Kelly and I are no longer quite so intrigued to see a monk… it’s starting to seem normal. We went through the security check and were able to get seats about five rows back from the front of the middle section. We were in our seats by 9:15, over an hour before the 10:30 start. Although there were Swiss guards and other officials everywhere, no one checked our tickets. In front of us was a big stage, right in front of St. Peter’s Basilica. The very center of the stage had a small white awning covering a big white chair. There were several rows of chairs on either side of the stage. To the left of the stage were two rows of people in wheelchairs. To the right of the stage were two rows of cardinals in their magenta hats. We watched as other cardinals arrived, and eventually there were at least twenty in attendance. As the sun grew higher, the cardinals’ chairs were moved to the back of the stage where they were shaded by the awning. The wheelchair people stayed out in the sun. The thousands of chairs filled and many people stood in the back. Others clustered under the columns of St. Peters Square where they found some shade. There were at least 20,000 people. Charley thought maybe 40,000, but I don’t know how to even guess at the size of the crowd. We were really quite far up in the front, close enough to almost see the expression on the Pope’s face. About 10:15 several officials got up to the microphone and read out names of groups in various languages. Two men and a woman sang. We all waited. Then some holy-type music was played over the loudspeaker. I had expected the Pope to come walking out of the big doors of St. Peters, but he was driven down a ramp in a vehicle (some type of jeep), standing up and wearing his white robe and little white cap. There didn’t seem to be any bulletproof glass… it wasn’t the “Pope-mobile” John Paul II used after he was shot. People went crazy. Everyone stood up and some people stood on their chairs. The German people next to me got very angry at some people in front of us who stood on their chairs and managed to get them to just stand on the ground. There were several big screen TV monitors. Because the seats were all on the same level and everyone was standing, it was hard to see exactly where the Pope’s vehicle was. We watched the cameras positioned on the top of the columns to see where they were pointing, we watched the big monitors, and we also watched where people seemed the most excited. Then all of a sudden, the Pope passed within 20 yards of where we were standing. Kelly took a couple of photos and actually got a few good ones. We really could see his expression as he waved to the crowd. The Pope traveled all around the square for maybe 10 minutes, while the holy music played. Then the vehicle drove right up on the stage—we thought it somehow drove up the stairs, but later we saw that a section of the steps was actually a ramp. The public audience was an interesting process. The Pope shared some sort of message in Italian. Several different cardinals or other high-ranking people stood at a microphone and spoke—six different people, each speaking a different language: French, English, German, Spanish, Polish (we think) and Italian. Each person welcomed the speakers of their language and then read through a list of groups that were there. The English cardinal (with an absolutely beautiful voice) named groups from England, Scotland and America, describing most of them as “pilgrims.” Most were groups from churches or parishes. (“A group of pilgrims from St. Stephens parish in Baltimore, Maryland….“) One group he announced was a group of executives from an Italian-American association. As each group was called, they waved madly, cheered or stood up, and the Pope waved in their general direction. Some groups had signs or banners. The groups of teenagers went absolutely wild. Some of the kids started chanting “Ben-ne-det-to” over and over again. After the end of each set of introductions, the Pope gave a welcome or blessing in that language. We were very impressed that he spoke all six languages—he is apparently very much an intellectual. We watched the Pope up on the big screen TV… he had a very nice and genuine smile. In this environment, the Pope was very much a celebrity. Goodness—how much this man’s life has changed in just two weeks! I almost felt like we were at a rock concert or sporting event—there was so much excitement. Or maybe it reminded me of the time a couple of years ago when Kelly and I got to see George Bush give a speech in Knoxville… the experience of being at an important event, seeing and hearing one of the most important and famous people in the world. At the end of the formal program, the Pope stood and began to individually greet each of the cardinals. It was obvious that this would take a long time, and the crowd kind of drifted away. There wasn’t any real “ending” to the event. It was so horribly hot and sunny right there in the square… there was nothing else really to see and no reason to stay until the Pope left the square. We went to the Vatican City post office and bought a few stamps so we could send some postcards. (I had written my parents a card while I was waiting for the Pope to appear.) The Vatican City has their own postal system, so these are unique stamps. We wandered north of St. Peter’s Square to look for lunch. There were thousands of people milling down the street, most of who had been at the square for the audience. We picked a pizzeria that seemed reasonably price and each ordered a pizza. Charley and I shared a salad, and we had drinks. It was another one of those “average” 50 euro lunches. I have to keep reminding myself that it isn’t 50 dollars… 50 euros is more like 65 dollars. I’m never quite sure how the money adds up to be so much, when the pizza prices seemed reasonable on the menu. There was another child playing the accordion outside the restaurant. His little brother—not much more than a toddler—came around to collect money. I have a feeling the young accordionists may collect more money than most of the adult accordionists. After lunch we walked around the back of Vatican City and toured the Vatican Museums, located in the Vatican palaces, homes to the popes since the 14th century. This is truly an amazing complex… the works of art just overwhelming. Many of the rooms were decorated with painted ceilings or wall frescoes. We were especially interested in a room decorated with paintings of maps… the world as it was seen several hundred years ago. There was a large map of Provence, which even included our former home village of Bonnieux, which was a summer home of the Popes when they were based in Avignon. There are works of art by many of the great masters (Raphael, Bernini, Caravaggio) but the most famous spot in all the museums is Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. You can bypass many of the other rooms to go right to the chapel, but we tried to save it as a climax of our visit. It’s a relatively small chapel built as part of the palace, not a separate building… a rectangular hall separated into two parts. Paintings and frescoes cover basically every available inch of space in the room—the most famous done by Michelangelo. He painted the ceiling from 1508 to 1512 with scenes from the Old Testament. The most famous sections are probably “The Creation of Adam” and “The Original Sin.” On the back wall behind the altar is a huge fresco called “The Last Judgment,” painted by Michelangelo between 1536 and 1541. The Sistine Chapel was restored between 1981 and 1994 and the colors are vibrant and fresh, probably much as they were 500 years ago. Just two weeks ago the cardinals had gathered here to select the new pope. We probably didn’t take full advantage of our time in the Vatican Museum or in the Sistine Chapel. You could definitely spend the whole day there. I should have invested in a detailed guidebook to carry with me so I could better understand what I was seeing. Charley had a somewhat negative reaction to much of what he saw at the Vatican…he doesn’t like the idea that a modern church has retained so much incredible wealth, is charging large admission fees and selling expensive guidebooks… especially when there is so much poverty in the world. After our daily gelato break, we went back into St. Peters Square and up into the basilica, the largest church in the world. The basilica is named for the apostle Peter, who was likely martyred somewhere here around AD65. The remains of St. Peter (at least what are considered to be his remains) were re-discovered in the 1940’s and are now kept in the crypt. The first basilica was constructed in 326 on the site of Peter’s tomb, but the current building was built beginning in 1506; Michelangelo took over responsibility for the project in 1547 when he was 72, and he designed the famous dome. There was a long line of people lined up to see the tomb of John Paul II and pay their respects. The basilica was truly spectacular. Just inside the door on the right is Michelangelo’s famous Pieta… carved in 1499 when he was only 25… the Madonna holding the dead Christ. The statue is now in a glass case… a man smashed the Virgin’s hand with a hammer in 1972. We wandered around the basilica, truly impressed. The high altar is topped by an enormous canopy (baldacchino) designed by Bernini. The canopy sits atop four swirling bronze columns. A lot of people were lined up at the statue of St. Peter, sitting on a throne. Most of the people touched or even kissed his foot, believed to bring good luck. Kelly and I wanted to go up into the dome (435 feet high), but Charley said he wasn’t that interested and would meet us outside. He said it wasn’t because of the heights, but I’m not sure. (Maybe he didn’t want to pay the admission cost, since he struggles with the idea of churches charging for entry. Fortunately, entry to the basilica was free.) Kelly and I waited in the line to go up into the dome, but when we got to the ticket window, we didn’t have enough money to ride the elevator. We ended up walking—over 700 steps. We came out onto the roof and then went back inside to climb a few more steps. You actually are inside the basilica and walk around a little catwalk high up in the dome. The top of the dome is decorated with mosaics. We had a great vantage point to see the basilica far down below. I decided to go on up to the top of the cupola—outside on the very top of the dome. Kelly didn’t want to do this and waited for me. Once I started climbing up into the cupola, I wondered what I was thinking of to do this… everyone else climbing up the narrow twisty steps seemed to be a college kid. I tried not to get claustrophobic, but I did worry a little about reconnecting with Kelly back down in the dome somewhere. Should I have left my 11-year old daughter down there? The views made it all worthwhile though. I took a few photos and headed down quickly. Fortunately Kelly had figured out where I would be coming down and was there to meet me. We got something to drink at the little snack bar on the roof of St. Peters and took some pictures of the back of the 13 statues that line the front of the basilica. Then we walked the hundreds of steps down to meet Charley who was waiting patiently by the Vatican post office. We had been gone well over an hour. We walked back to Trastevere. We were all really tired from the long and busy day… but very impressed with ourselves. We had seen the Pope. We had visited Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. I had climbed to the very top of St. Peter’s Basilica. We were totally saturated with history, architecture and art. We had a simple dinner at the apartment… Charley’s famous chicken soup, a special request by Kelly. Kelly was very busy again tonight with her maps and guidebooks, working on her plan for tomorrow. Thursday, May 12 Another Kelly day—our focus today was Ancient Rome. She warned us that there would be lots of walking again. We are definitely getting good exercise in Rome. We bought a USA Today yesterday, and it forecasted rain and cooler weather for Rome, so we carried umbrellas and wore warmer clothes. We never saw a cloud and wished we had worn lighter clothes. We won’t rely on USA Today for European weather predictions again. We left the apartment about 10 am, following our tour guide Kelly. She took us across the river, and then we walked along the river, in the opposite direction from the Vatican, passing alongside the little island in the river. As we’ve come to expect in Rome, there were ancient ruins here and there, just tucked in among modern structures. All of a sudden we arrived at Circus Maximus, a big grassy field below us where the chariot races were held over 2000 years ago. At one time the circus had a capacity of 320,000 spectators! Today we saw a group of people—maybe 20—riding horses along the other side of the circus. We cut left at the end of the circus and walked up the street to arrive at Constantine’s Arch, the largest of Rome’s ancient arches built in AD 315. And there just beyond the arch were the ruins of the Colosseum, one of our major destinations for our day in Ancient Rome. The Colosseum was the largest amphitheater ever built in Rome, the construction of the current structure beginning in AD 79. This structure could seat more than 50,000 people… this was where the gladiators had their bloody fights against each other and sometimes against wild animals. The emperor Trajan once held games at the Colosseum that lasted 117 days… more than 9000 gladiators fought to their death. And now here we were… As we are finding at most of the famous sites in Rome, there were tourists everywhere. And where there are tourists, there are street sellers and the ever-present carnival atmosphere. Two men were dressed as Roman soldiers and you could pay to get your photo taken with them. Two young women tried to solicit us for a group tour… I couldn’t quite figure out the deal and waved them away. She jokingly told some other tourists, “These Americans are always very suspicious.” We decided to just tour ourselves, though we did get the audioguide for Kelly. She listened to every single bit of information on the tape very intently. This made it a very slow process for Charley and I, but Kelly just loved it and would report bits and pieces of information to us every few minutes. The Colosseum is an absolutely amazing structure… even now, almost 2000 years after it was originally built and with huge chunks missing. It is much larger than Charley and I had expected (576 yards in circumference and 187 feet high)… we were thinking something more like the Colosseum in Arles, but this one made Arles seem so small. We did see many people doing the tour with a guide. If I ever come to Rome on a “normal” vacation (not as part of a 14 month budget-sensitive trip), I think it would be beneficial to tour the ancient sites with a guide. After our time at the Colosseum, we had lunch at a café on a side street a few blocks away. We sat at one of the sidewalk tables—I had a perfect view of the Colosseum from my seat. The things we have seen on this trip! We had a good meal: ravioli for Charley, pasta bolognaise for Kelly, lasagna for me. Continuing on Kelly’s well-planned itinerary, we climbed up a nearby hill to see “Nero’s Golden House,” also known as Domus Aurea. Nero’s house once took up two-thirds of Rome, but after his death in AD 68, much of it was destroyed and built over. Today you can still tour some of the ruins, set on the hill above the Colosseum in a pretty parkland. We arrived near the end of the long Italian lunch hour and would have had to wait 30 minutes for the afternoon opening. Kelly decided not to wait. We then walked over into the Roman Forum area… more amazing ruins, almost too much to absorb: arches, columns, temples, bits of statue. We used our Colosseum admission ticket to go up onto Palatine Hill above the other forum ruins… masses of other ruins… palaces, fountains, gardens, even a stadium. Our little Top 10 guidebook listed a few of the sights of Palatine Hill, but there was very little signage up among the ruins and I found it all somewhat confusing…hard to figure out exactly where to go and what exactly we were looking at. Some of the ruins are almost 3000 years old. The views of the modern and ancient city all around us were quite impressive. We continued back down through the various forum areas… again, an incredible number of ruins and several forums built by different Roman emperors over the years. Kelly and I were both busy snapping photos. We walked up some very steep steps to emerge again in more-modern Rome. Outside the Capitoline museums we saw a famous status of the “she-wolf” nursing the two twins—Remus and Romulus—who legend has it founded Rome and were raised by the wolves. Today we were finally able see the inside of the Gesù church. It was absolutely beautiful and well worth our three attempts to visit. And from that point were then very familiar with the route back to our Trastevere apartment. We got back to the apartment about 6 pm—a very long day. I fixed pasta with chicken in a cream sauce, using the multi-colored pasta noodles we’d bought in a little shop earlier in the week. Kelly seemed excited about the meal. After dinner I worked on writing. I listened with one ear to Charley and Kelly’s conversation—they were having an informal history and geography lesson. Kelly wants to be an architect when she grows up. She has learned an incredible amount on this trip… and what architecture she has seen in our travels in England, France and Italy. I definitely think this trip has occurred at the right age for Kelly… young enough to miss a year of school and to be open to a year away from friends and activities, but old enough to really participate and learn… and to remember it all for the rest of her life. Tonight was laundry night—one of the practicalities of a long trip like this. There isn’t a dryer and no place to dry outside, so we have laundry hung up on a big drying rack in the living room. Friday, May 13 I didn’t realize until I typed the date that it had been Friday the 13th… funny how our sense of time has changed on this trip. Three months from today we will be at home, staying at my parents’ house for a few days until our movers come to Ethans Glen. We still have a very meaningful vacation ahead of us, though we all have a sense that our trip is approaching its end. We carried umbrellas today “just in case” and we all took sweaters. But Kelly and I did wear our capri pants today—we just weren’t happy in our long pants yesterday. We had five minutes of sprinkling mid-morning, but otherwise it was a beautiful day. Kelly had her hair in braids and wore a bandana on her head. She rolled up her capris and at one point even rolled her t-shirt sleeves up to her shoulders. Walking behind her, I was shocked to think that she looked like a college student touring Europe. My little girl! It was our last day in Rome and another very busy walking day. We tried to cover several things we hadn’t seen and to do something each of us wanted. Charley and I wanted to go to the Galleria Borghese, a museum of paintings and sculpture. This seemed like a long walk, and Kelly lobbied to take a bus instead. We didn’t have information on the bus routes, so we walked first to the Tourist Information stand in Trastevere to get help. The woman gave us the bus information, but then asked if we had a reservation for the museum. We didn’t. We called the museum from a pay phone and there was no availability today. Charley and I weren’t all that disappointed (we have seen so much art already this week), and Kelly of course was delighted not to spend the morning in an art museum. I guess we’ll visit the Galleria Borghese on another visit to Rome. (We do think this is a city we’d like to visit again.) We did decide to take the bus though...l from the stop across the street up to the Piazza della Repubblica, right near the train station. The bus was very quick for the first part of the trip and then bogged down in traffic once we reached a long busy street called Nazionale. There were just a few seats on the bus, so we stood up and tried to keep our balance as it lurched up the hill, holding onto poles, straps and each other. The bus was very hot but definitely quicker than walking—and very reasonable too… just 1 euro for any travel in a 75-minute period. We bought our tickets at a newsstand. The Piazza della Repubblica is a beautiful traffic square surrounded by a semi-circular grand hotel, palaces and other old buildings with an elaborate fountain (by Bernini) in the middle. I had read that there were some used booksellers nearby, and we wandered over to the stands to look… we spent several minutes browsing, but we didn’t find anything that would work for us… the only books in English were romance novels. Right across the street was the Santa Maria delgli Angeli church, constructed in a section of old Roman baths that had been built in the early 4th century. The church project was led by Michelangelo in 1561. This was Michelangelo’s last architectural project… done when he was 86 years old. There was a big white limousine right outside the church and a wedding taking place inside… a bride and groom in full wedding regalia up in front with the priest and about 100 guests. We joined the other tourists who were standing in the back watching the wedding. I thought it was interesting that a wedding would be scheduled at 11 am on a Friday morning. While some tourists watched the wedding, others wandered discreetly around the church. At one point the priest seemed to pronounce the couple man and wife… everyone applauded including me and the other onlookers. When they went up front behind the altar to sign some sort of book, we decided to leave… I was hoping to see them walk smiling down the aisle to their waiting limousine and friends throwing rice, but it seemed like there was still a lot of business to take care of up front. We walked around the side of the baths where there was a big museum (the Museo Nazionale Romano Terme di Diocleziano) that was on Kelly’s list. In front of the museum was a beautiful garden filled with bits of old Roman buildings and statuary. It’s amazing how much “stuff” there is in Rome that really can just sit around here and there, not even in a museum. The archaeological museum was fairly expensive… we would have gone if Kelly was interested, but she decided she didn’t really want to go after all. There was a nice shop and we bought her a little journal book decorated with sketches of the Colosseum instead of the museum ticket. We posed behind head-less statues of men in togas, placing our heads on the necks for funny photos. We continued on to another of Rome’s basilica’s—Santa Maria Maggiore, most of which was built in the 5th century. Rome is filled with beautiful churches. Kelly had quite a few churches on her list of things she wanted to see. The churches are really wonderful museums of art… paintings and statues, often by the great masters. This basilica had two domes and a bell tower, decorated inside with gold and mosaics. I saw a woman in a tank top get turned away at the door for her dress. You're not supposed to be in churches in skimpy tops or shorts. We had lunch near the church at little pizzeria/trattoria that was just opening at 12:30. This turned out to be a decent meal… big portions, good food and economical. I never even saw the name of the place—nothing really special but good. Charley had pizza, Kelly surprisingly ordered risotto Milanese (an absolutely giant plateful), and I had an big serving of gnocchi with gorgonzola. We also had bread, a mezzo liter of wine, a soft drink, and our normal Aqua Naturale. The bill for all this was 31 euro. Our half-liter wine was about the same price as Kelly’s can of Fanta. We walked down through the parkland area above Nero’s Golden House, with various ruins here and there. We sat for a while in the park. We walked past the crowds at Colosseum and then back down toward Forum area again. This time we took a different route to pass by Trajan’s market, the remains of a very large shopping/office complex from the 2nd century AD. A massive column honoring Trajan stood at the end of this area of the Forum. We peeked in another little church-- Santa Maria di Loreto (from 1501) as we left Ancient Rome. We were ready to head home, but Kelly secretly planned our route to take us by Piazza della Minerva near the Pantheon. She knew I wanted to see a statue in the square—a small elephant statue by Bernini holding an ancient Egyptian obelisk on his back. The little elephant was delightful, and I was so excited when we arrived on the square and there he was. We also looked in the church, Santa Maria sopra Minerva... one of the most beautiful churches yet (Rome’s only real Gothic church, built around 1280) with a beautiful painted ceiling. There was a Michelangelo statue (called Risen Christ) and a beautiful altar. St. Catherine of Siena is buried here, though apparently her head is in a church in Siena. I’m glad we came to Rome near the end of our trip. The many Roman sites we saw in England and France… and all the beautiful churches… would have seemed anticlimactic compared to Rome. There’s just so much packed into this one city. We have enjoyed our week in Rome a lot, and Charley and I are very proud of the good job Kelly has done in planning our sightseeing. We had about an hour at the apartment. Around 6 pm we walked to the internet café, though I had to wait for a computer and Charley ended up with just a few minutes on-line. I had hoped to post my blog, but my computer didn’t take a CD disk. I’ll figure this out in Ravello next week. Trastevere was very busy on a Friday evening... everyone was going out for dinner and the cafes were getting ready for the weekend. Hundreds of people were out on the street and in the big square by the fountain. Some children were playing soccer in the square. We had dinner again at Da Otello, our third meal there. The waiters were glad to see us and as always, we like the feeling of being “regulars.” We got another complimentary aperitif. I had the misto bar, though only one serving today. I had pasta alla carbonara, Charley had lasagna and chicken, Kelly had the spicy pasta arrabbiata and a steak. The waiter said the steak was small, but it totally filled her plate. We got back to the apartment about 8:45 to start packing. Kelly and Charley never really unpacked, so they didn’t have much to do. We packed another box to send home, which Charley will take to the post office in the morning. Tonight Kelly and Charley both said our Rome apartment had grown on them. I know that when we’ve come in at the end of the day, there has been a sense of coming home, but it’s still been a strange place to stay. The strangest thing is that out of the couple thousand books in this apartment, there was really not one that any of us wanted to read. ]]> tag:www.slowtrav.com,2005:/blog/kaydee//9.830 2005-05-16T10:44:54Z 2006-11-05T19:35:52Z

We were in Venice—probably the most unique city in the world. Venice (Venezia in Italian) was founded over 1000 years ago and is a city built around 117 islands in the midst of a swampy lagoon. Charley rode in the cabin, but Kelly and I both climbed into the open back seat and got our cameras out as the water taxi moved slowly down the canal. We took pictures of gorgeous old buildings and our first gondolas, propelled by drivers in striped shirts and little straw hats. Finally our taxi turned onto the famous Grand Canal, a wonderful moment. It reminded me of my first taxi ride in Paris or the first time I saw Manhattan… just the amazement of finally being in such a famous, dazzling place. The Canal was very busy on this Saturday evening—crowded with gondolas, vaporetti, water taxis, and private boats. Kelly and I were delighted at all the elaborate and colorful buildings fronting the Grand Canal; many of the buildings had big candy-striped striped poles in the water. It was a truly a magical trip.

Kaydee http://www.luberonexperience.com Saturday, April 30 We woke up early our last morning in Domaso… even Kelly was up by seven. We finished our final bit of packing and somehow managed to fit everything into two big duffel bags, two medium rolling suitcases (replacing the third big bag that we left in Provence), three backpacks and the computer bag. Somewhere buried in our luggage are 12 packages of ramen noodle soup, a variety of spices, our pepper grinder and supply of peppercorns, my olivewood herbes de Provence grinder, aluminum foil and plastic wrap, and a few other kitchen items. Kelly found a place for Charley’s jar of peanut butter, but I had to leave behind what remained of our big bottle of olive oil from Provence. The bags were incredibly heavy, especially my pack. Kelly and I are wearing our hiking boots to avoid having to fit them into our suitcases. And I have my jacket hanging off the back of my pack. We will definitely need to do another “purge” in Venice. Gio came down to the apartment a few minutes after nine to return our security deposit and say goodbye. He’s been a very good host. We left him with a small pile of clothes to give to a needy family (including Kelly’s well-worn sneakers), two boxes of food, and a couple of books. We took Gio’s photo with Kelly out in the flower garden by the pretty swimming pool and hugged him goodbye. Our morning route took us all the way down the west side of the lake to Como, a road we’ve now taken several times. It was another very hazy day and we could barely see the mountains and the other side of the lake. There were lots of cyclists out today, frustrating Charley as he tried to find the right moment to pass them. The motorcyclists then passed us… whizzing by at dangerous speeds. We drove through Gravedona and Dongo, Menaggio, and then Lenno. In Tremezzo we passed right by the Villa Carlotta where we’d been just yesterday, glimpsing the pretty azaleas and rhododendrons on the hillside and the little stone dwarfs at the far end. Just outside of Como—at Cernobbio—we swung away from the lake, passing right by the big mall where we had gone to the Spizzico restaurant with the two grandparents and Noami. At this point we took a motorway south toward the Malpensa airport, located almost an hour outside the big city of Milan. Charley had called twice to confirm our appointment with the Renault representative to return our leased car. The man didn’t speak very good English, but he told Charley he would meet us at Gate 16 of Terminal 1. Charley had said we’d be there at 11:45 am, but we got there much more quickly than we expected and arrived at the airport about 11. We circled the airport to find a temporary place to park for a short time, then I went in the busy airport to use the restroom. We circled again and pulled up to the curb just outside Gate 16 around 11:30. We piled our luggage on the curb and Kelly and I stood watch while Charley went in to use the restroom. I’m particularly nervous about protecting our computer bag. The Renault man arrived right at 11:45 am, and we turned over the station wagon that’s been our car since our trip to Barcelona over two months ago. We’ll be without a car for the next two weeks—in Venice and Rome—and will get another leased Renault for two months when we leave Rome. The man was very friendly and personally led us into the airport and then downstairs to show us where to catch the bus to the central train station in Milan. The bus was very economical—5 euro each for a 50 minute trip. We were able to store most of our luggage in the big luggage compartment underneath the bus, so even that was easy. Kelly and I read most of the trip—we’re both reading John Grisham. She finished The Testament and I finished The Summons. We didn’t see much of Milan, and what we saw didn’t impress us much. We didn’t get to see the big Duomo, which is the main thing we would have wanted to see in Milan—that and Leonardo DaVinci’s The Last Supper. We had two hours until our Eurostar train to Venice, so we found a bench where we could see the departures board and settled in for a long wait. Kelly and I brought back panini sandwiches while Charley watched the luggage and later brought back ice cream. Every time we got up, someone took our spot on the bench… a couple of them rather unsavory looking people. Finally our train’s platform was posted and we hauled our luggage out onto the platform. When the train pulled in, we found our car and managed to get the luggage on the train and the heavy pieces in the luggage compartment. It was all relatively easy except for my aching back and shoulders. I’ve been having problems with my left shoulder for some reason. My backpack was way too heavy today, and I definitely need to do something different for next week’s trip to Rome. The train trip to Venice was about two and a half hours. We read, had a snack, and watched the scenery. Our route took us across Italy, heading a bit further south, all the way to the Adriatic Sea. It was exciting when we finally saw the water and crossed the bridge over to Venice. The train arrived at the Santa Lucia Station; we went out the station and down some steps, coming to a big plaza overlooking the Grand Canal. It was extremely busy place with tourists coming, going and just waiting.]]> Palazzetto da Schio, owned by Contessa Anna DaSchio. I was worried about the logistics of getting to our apartment with all our luggage. The instructions from the Contessa had given two options—to take a vaporetto (water bus) and then walk about ten minutes or take an expensive water taxi that could take us down a small canal and let us off just a few steps from the Palazzetto. Kelly and I stayed with the luggage while Charley set off across the plaza to investigate our options. He found out that the vaparetto would cost about 15 euro for the three of us, but as we watched some of the boats pass by, they seemed absolutely jammed with people. I couldn’t imagine the three of us dealing with all our luggage on these boats, at least not at this time of day. The Contessa’s information said a water taxi would cost about 50 euro ($65), but we decided to begin our week in Venice in this less stressful way. When we arrived at the water taxi dock, they quoted us a price of 55 euro. I was a little nervous handing the man the computer bag as I looked down at the water between the dock and the water taxi. I had a horrible vision of the bag slipping from his grasp and falling into the canal—and of losing the computer and everything on it. “Be careful please,” I said. “It’s a computer.” The man laughed. “You are supposed to be on vacation,” he said. “You are not supposed to have a computer!!” He even made a joke of holding the computer bag over the water… not at all funny! The water taxi was a spacious motorboat with an internal compartment and an open space in the back. We settled our bags in cabin and our driver headed off down a small canal. We were in Venice—probably the most unique city in the world. Venice (Venezia in Italian) was founded over 1000 years ago and is a city built around 117 islands in the midst of a swampy lagoon. Kelly and I both climbed into the open back seat and got our cameras out as the water taxi moved slowly down the canal. We took pictures of gorgeous old buildings and our first gondolas, propelled by drivers in striped shirts and little straw hats. Finally our taxi turned onto the famous Grand Canal, a wonderful moment. It reminded me of my first taxi ride in Paris or the first time I saw Manhattan… just the amazement of finally being in such a famous, dazzling place. The Canal was very busy on this Saturday evening—crowded with gondolas, vaporetti, water taxis, and private boats. Kelly and I were delighted at all the elaborate and colorful buildings fronting the Grand Canal; many of the buildings had big candy-striped striped poles in the water. It was a truly a magical trip. Finally we crossed under a large wooden bridge—which I later learned was the Accademia Bridge—and soon after made a right turn onto our canal. Our directions said that the Palazzetto da Schio was at the middle bridge on this narrow canal. But before we reached the middle bridge, it was obvious that there was construction work down the canal and that we couldn’t go any further. I didn’t have the house number, so our taxi driver used his cell phone to call the Contessa, helped us off the boat, and pointed us to number 316. The canal was so narrow that he was going to have to back out to the Grand Canal. We were greeted by the Contessa, a very efficient woman of about 60 with a cultured English accent. She had a friendly little dog named Webby (like the World Wide Web, she said), still a bit of a puppy with a little corkscrew tail. Kelly was immediately on the floor with the dog—we hadn’t known there’d be the bonus of a dog here. She told Kelly that she’d had another dog—named Floppy (floppy disk)—who had died not long ago. The Contessa gave us an extremely detailed tour of the house and our apartment… we must have been together at least 40 minutes. Other than our 24-hour orientation to La Bastide Vieille, this was the most detailed orientation to a rental that we’ve had in our ten months of travel. One of the Contessa’s ancestors built this little palace over 400 years ago. In fact, our apartment includes her childhood bedroom (Kelly’s room this week), which she says still has the same furniture she grew up with. Her parents’ rooms were on the main level of the house above and she said her young brother slept on another floor with his nursemaid, but she and her two sisters lived in what’s now our apartment with their English nanny. The Contessa’s mother was English—her grandmother was American—which explains her perfect English. We found ourselves speaking back to her very politely, trying also to use perfect English. “Please excuse our curiosity,” Charley said. “We’re Americans and we don’t often encounter people with titles. You’re a contessa?” “Yes,” the Contessa said, seeming very official all of a sudden. “I am a countess.” She told us something about the history of her family, whose real palace was somewhere in the countryside. Apparently hundreds of years ago it was important to nobility to at least have a presence in Venice. Now she has turned part of her home into rental apartments, and we saw a little folder in the apartment where she’s trying to sell an old tapestry to raise money to help with the renovation of the house. The palazzetto has four floors—the main floor is the third floor, which is where the Contessa lives. There are four apartments: two on the second floor and two on the fourth floor. The first (ground) floor is kind of a utility floor, and there’s a small garden out back that we can use. I read that in Venice many first floors aren’t occupied due to problems with flooding. Our apartment comes with three pairs of tall boots for use in the flood season. The Contessa said we probably wouldn’t’ need to use them during our stay. I had my only potential mess-up (at least so far) related to the reservation for this apartment. When I contacted the Contessa about a rental over a year ago, I reserved a smaller apartment—a one-bedroom apartment that had a little sleeping nook where Kelly would sleep. The Contessa and I corresponded several times, and she said she had a problem communicating with AOL e-mail accounts. I gave her my Comcast address instead. Because our rental time was so far away, she didn’t require a deposit at that time. When we left Knoxville, I dropped my e-mail account with Comcast, not thinking at all about the Contessa. After the first of the year—while we were in Provence—I e-mailed her from Charley’s Yahoo account to confirm our arrangements and ask if I needed to send a deposit. This was about nine months after our earlier correspondence. The Contessa wrote me back that she had tried to contact me several times (at my old Comcast e-mail address) and even forwarded me the messages she had sent. When she hadn’t heard from me, she rented the apartment with the sleeping nook to someone else. When I read this in the message, my heart just sank. But then she offered a solution—she had a larger apartment overlooking the canal that she wasn’t renting out right now because there was supposed to be construction work on the canal that might be disruptive. However, if we understood there might be construction noise, she would be happy to rent us this larger apartment at the same price. I breathed a sigh of relief that there was a solution, and sent my deposit check off immediately. So now once again—as also happened at Lake Como—we have ended up with a larger apartment for the same price. In this apartment we have two bathrooms and Kelly has a proper bedroom. The apartment is furnished mostly with antiques but does have a very comfortable feel. There are elegant fabrics hanging on the walls and beautiful old etchings. As she took us through the apartment, the Contessa pointed to several special things: “This is a 16th century table” or “Right here is a 17th century chest.” I think even the bedspreads are antique—there are quilted pads on the beds for us to lay our suitcases on while unpacking so we don’t damage the bedspreads. We’ll need to be extra careful here. We have quite a lot of space too. The entrance hall opens to the living room and also leads on the right to the main bedroom, one of the bathrooms, and the kitchen. The living room looks out over the canal and is decorated in bright golds—a couch, three easy chairs, and a narrow antique table where we’ll eat our meals. There are two corner cabinets—one with an assortment of table linens and the other with some books. (We immediately pounced on the books to find new reading material.) The two bedrooms open off either side of the living room, both also facing the canal. Kelly has her own bathroom off her bedroom. The kitchen is in the rear. It’s just a narrow galley-style kitchen, but seems enormous after our small kitchen at the Villa AnnaMaria last week. We have a washing machine and a dishwasher. The Contessa has a computer we can use for internet access at no charge. And although we really have no one to call, the apartment also has a cell phone for our use. The Contessa gave us detailed instructions on how to manage our trash-- apparently in Venice all trash must be sorted. We have two different bins in our apartment and then there are five sorting bins down on the ground floor. There were also strict recycling requirements in Oberammergau. I don't mind this at all... She also showed us three little gadgets for mosquito control. We have to buy little pads to put in these each night. Apparently the mosquitoes here are really terrible. Charley carried our luggage upstairs while I filled out a registration form and settled our bill. We did a little unpacking and then went out for dinner. The Contessa gave us a little map of the neighborhood and recommended a pizzeria not too far away. By time we got there, it was after 8 pm. The man told us there would be an hour’s wait, but he said they had another restaurant not too far away. We followed his niece (one of the waitresses) who was leading another family through a maze of tiny streets to the other restaurant. The restaurant—Ristorante San Trovaso—was in an old building but had a spacious modern feel. I ordered the tourist menu (standard choices, but economically a good deal)—lasagna as a first course, then fried calamari with spinach. Kelly had spaghetti with butter (she almost licked her plate clean), then great piece of roasted chicken with potatoes and salad. Charley had a salad and then spaghetti with pesto sauce. My meal came with a dessert—I shared this with Kelly and she picked gelato. The price was reasonable, and we all enjoyed our meal. We somehow found our way our apartment, winding our way through little tiny pedestrian passageways and crossing several little bridges. We are anxious to explore more of Venice in the daylight. Sunday, May 1 I love Venice!!! We had a great first day and wonderful weather. To give me a break from all the travel responsibility, we had decided that Charley would take charge of Venice and Kelly would be responsible for Rome. They would each read the guidebooks, research possible activities, develop a daily plan, and be the leader. Kelly has jumped on her assignment with gusto and is spending a lot of time with the Rome guidebook. She is already making notes in a little book. Charley doesn’t seem as interested, and I’m not sure he wants to be the leader… at least not here in Venice. Charley’s style is different than mine and Kelly’s—he is more laid-back and go-with-the-flow. Fortunately, he is usually very agreeable to go with what Kelly and I want to do. Kelly and I are more alike—organized and planful… bordering on compulsive. It would probably be difficult if all three of us were that way—it’s sometimes hard with two. When I woke up this morning, Charley was already gone from the apartment in search of breakfast food. He had a good early morning walking tour of Venice, though he never found the supermarket the Contessa had marked on the map or any kind of bakery. He finally returned with two small cups of expresso and a couple of still-warm croissants that he bought at a little shop. We got ourselves organized and all headed out to locate the supermarket. Our apartment is just five minutes from an area called Zattere, a stretch of waterfront in the Dorsuduro area facing the Canal della Giudecca, a wide stretch of water that seems more like a big river. There’s a broad promenade with wonderful views, filled this Sunday morning with people out walking and enjoying the morning sunshine. The Contessa had warned us that the cafes and restaurants in this area are very expensive because of the views. The supermarket—called Billa—was about 15 minutes from the apartment, and I think Charley had walked right by it when he was out earlier. There wasn’t any kind of sign—just red and yellow streamers hanging down across the door. Maybe it was even closed when Charley passed by. Billa is a good-sized supermarket with a large produce department, fresh breads, and a good cheese and meat section. We got food for two dinners, today’s lunch, and some important staples like coffee, butter and toilet paper. Somehow we managed to spend 58 euro and fill four big bags. The line at the checkout counter was long, and a woman with just a few items cut in front of Kelly. She began talking loudly to Kelly and then to the world in general. I think she had some serious mental problems. Kelly wisely ignored her, but I know she was uncomfortable, and then Charley got pretty stressed out. The woman got into a heated discussion with the cashier—I don’t think she had money to pay for all her groceries. Then we held up the line because Charley forgot to weigh some green beans—our cashier had to go all the way back to the produce area to weigh them. Charley was unusually flustered. We struggled back to the apartment with our heavy grocery bags. (The apartment comes with a rolling cart, which Kelly begged us not to use… she thinks these carts are only used by old ladies.) Charley was still very agitated about the situation at the grocery store. We had lunch at the apartment—Charley made wonderful sandwiches with the breads, meats and cheeses from the supermarket. Fortified with a good meal, we set out a little after noon to explore Venice. We first went up to the Accademia Bridge, the wooden bridge over the Grand Canal—one of only three bridges that cross the Grand Canal. The bridge is arched steeply over the canal, allowing larger boats to pass underneath. We stopped at a kiosk by the canal to buy a detailed Venice map. There are 150 canals (called rio), 400 bridges (ponte), countless squares (campo or campello) and many tiny streets (calle or salizzada) and passageways (sortoportego). This is a whole new way of living… I’m absolutely captivated. But—we can already tell that it’s very easy to get lost—we definitely need our map! Once we had our map, we crossed the bridge (fabulous views looking down the canal in either direction) into the San Marco area. Venice seems absolutely packed with tourists…. all ages and from all countries—students with big backpacks, well-dressed beautiful people, groups of Japanese following a guide, families with children…. everyone eager to explore this wonderful city. Outside the San Vidal church (chiesa) we saw a sign advertising a concert of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons performed at the church several evenings over the next week. Vivaldi was born in Venice and lived here for many years, and The Four Seasons is one of our favorite pieces of classical music—we’ve heard it performed in Prague and Salzburg on other European trips. We decided we would really like to go to this concert, though the church wasn’t open for ticket-selling. A few squares down, we found another church (Chiesa de San Maurizio) with a special exhibition about Vivaldi and violin-making. Charley had still been a bit in the dumps from the supermarket episode, but he perked up due to his interest in violin-making (he actually made a couple of violins a few years ago). They were selling tickets for the Vivaldi concert inside this church, so we went ahead and bought our tickets for Tuesday night. Charley and I have our 13th anniversary tomorrow, so this will be our special anniversary treat. We continued on our way to the famous St. Mark’s Square, passing by a variety of intriguing shops. Kelly and I especially liked the shops selling the beautiful handmade papers and paper items, though we wished the prices were much lower. We also liked the many shops and stands selling beautiful glassware, jewelry and Venetian masks. We stopped in one shop so Kelly could buy a Venice key chain for her collection and a few gifts. Charley usually patiently waits outside while Kelly and I browse in the stores. The streets and squares of Venice are incredibly busy, thronged with tourists. There are lots of street sellers, many of them African men selling fake designer purses. They all seem to be selling the same purses, right next to each other. Artists peddle their work. We watched several clever street performers, some gathering large crowds. And here and there were beggars, some pathetically prostrate on the ground. We stopped for gelato at a little shop on a narrow passageway. We really like the rich creamy ice cream… and the prospect that gelato will be a regular experience during our 11-week stay in Italy. Just after the gelato shop, we crossed a bridge that was also a gondola station. Several gondoliers in their striped shirts lounged nearby their long black boats, waiting for customers. The boats have luxurious velvet seats, each one a bit different. Charley stopped to ask about a ride. The man quoted him a price of 100 euro for the three of us. Of course, Charley walked away. Another gondolier followed after us. He quoted a price of 70 euro for thirty minutes. We kept on walking—it doesn’t look like we’ll be crusing the canals on a gondola. We passed many famous shops—Cartier, Versace, Chanel, Gucci. A man selling fake Gucci bags was brazenly set up right outside the Gucci shop. Finally we reached St. Mark’s Square, a gigantic open square (piazza) that is—in many ways—the central destination in Venice. It’s an incredible sight. Beautiful white buildings line three sides of the square, each with a long covered promenade. But the far end of the piazza drew our attention: the huge and ornate Basilica of San Marco (St. Mark’s Cathedral), the equally impressive Doges Palace, and the tall bell tower or campanile. Today there was also a tall picture of the Eiffel Tower—strangely out of place—hiding a beautiful clock tower. The piazza was filled with people, café tables, various sellers, and thousands of pigeons. There were two little orchestras—their members dressed in white dinner jackets—on covered stages, playing for café guests. I read that it can cost 15 euro to have a coffee or drink at one of those cafes! We are meeting a couple from Slow Travel this evening at 5 pm at their hotel near St. Mark’s Square. The woman—Janet—has been reading my blog and postings and e-mailed me about getting together for a drink. It was only 3 pm, but since we were right in the area, we decided to go ahead and find it now so we would know right where to go later in the afternoon. I had gotten directions off the hotel’s website, and we followed them carefully. We reached an iron gate off a little square—just as the directions said, went through the gate… and no hotel. We looked all around, but there was definitely no hotel there and it was a dead end I hadn’t written down the specific address because I assumed it would be clear when we got there. We went back to St. Mark’s Square to follow the directions again and ended up back at the same little iron gate. Kelly saw a couple go through the gate and decided to follow them—maybe they were going to the hotel. She followed them into what appeared to be a hotel… but with no sign outside. Then she heard the woman ask the man at the desk if she could use their computer to check her e-mail and see if she had a message from the people they were supposed to meet this evening. It was Janet and her husband Steve! We introduced ourselves quickly and said we would be back at 5 pm. Apparently their hotel (called a “locanda”) was a B&B and for whatever reason didn’t have any kind of sign out front. They said they had a hard time finding it when they arrived too. We wanted to go back and freshen up and change before our get-together with Janet and Steve. It took about 30 minutes to walk back to our apartment, partly impacted by the crowds of people jamming the narrow little streets. We had about 30 minutes to relax and freshen up at the apartment and then we headed off on another 30-minute walk across the Grand Canal back to St. Mark’s. We’re definitely getting a lot of exercise here. This time we had no problem finding Janet and Steve’s hotel. They were waiting for us in the little square, and we took photos of each other by a pretty fountain. We walked a little ways together and finally sat at a sidewalk table on a side street off St. Mark’s. We drank wine and talked mainly about travel. We really enjoyed meeting them—they’re from San Antonio on a 30-day trip to Italy. They were in Bellagio for a few days last week, so who knows—we might have walked by each other there. From Venice they go to Florence and then Tuscany and Rome each for a week. They’re celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary, and have several other family members joining them at a villa in Tuscany. Somehow we found out that Steve’s father had been with same government agency as my father—he had also lived abroad as a child. Strange coincidence! We spent about 1-1/2 hours together until we finally had to give up our table so the restaurant could make room for dinner guests. Steve very kindly picked up the tab. It was good to spend time with some other people after two and a half weeks on our own. We wandered back to our apartment a bit of a different way, actually getting ourselves lost at one point. We needed to use our map to find our way back to the Accademia Bridge. At least we got to see another part of Venice. I fixed dinner at home tonight-- pasta (orecchiette shapes requested by Kelly), meat sauce, mushrooms, and bread. It was a good meal. We relaxed after dinner, tired from all our walking today! Monday, May 2 Today is Charley and my 13th wedding anniversary. Who would have imagined 13 years ago that today we’d be in Venice as part of a 14-month adventure in Europe? We did talk about wanting to travel… but we never expected this! Charley went to the grocery store to get breakfast foods and a few other things, and we moved slowly this morning. I went upstairs to use the internet for the first time —the Contessa’s son Carlo showed me their set-up. It’s so great that they provide a terminal for their guests—and at no charge either. It’s much better than trying to find an internet café. We didn’t end up getting out of the apartment until noon. We decided to get a 24 hour vaporetto pass (10.50 euro each for Charley and I and 9 euro for Kelly) and spend today and then tomorrow morning doing things that are too far to walk. The vaporetti run just like buses on the main canals and waterways of Venice. Since we had the boat passes, we decided to hunt down the potential English-language bookstores in Venice. We had a list of possibilities that Kelly marked on the map. We all need books, especially Kelly who is not totally out of reading material. She’s almost frantic about this. She’s already read the only two books that are suitable for her in the apartment bookcase. We got our tickets at the Accademia bridge and took the vaporetto up to the beautiful Rialto bridge across the Grand Canal. The whole area around the Rialto bridge was extremely crowded. The first bookstore we wanted to visit (in the Cannaregio area of Venice) was a shop that had been recommended on Slow Travel… it was possible that they had some used English books. We found the bookshop on a pretty square by the big Santa Maria dei Miracoli church, and the friendly man did have a box of used English books. I found a book for me and there were two that potentially worked for Kelly. We wandered from this square in search of lunch, finally ending up on another square near another elaborate church. Charley and I admired a beautiful building on this square… lots of people coming and going… and then saw a sign “Ospedale.” It was a hospital! Our lunch place was not very good today—very average food and less-than-average service. Kelly just about had to saw through her pizza. The only good news was that it was relatively inexpensive (at least for a sit-down lunch in Venice, as we are finding)—just 9 euro each for one course, a drink and the coperto (cover charge). Still, for 27 euro (over $35) we could have gotten a really good lunch at home at some place like Ruby Tuesdays at home. We spent the rest of the afternoon in different parts of Venice trying to find English books. We visited two bookstores and finally gave up on finding a third. We took the vaporetto up to the train station and went to the Campo St. Geremia square. There was a big bookstore there, but all the books in English were “literature” like Shakespearean plays and Jane Austen books we’ve already read. The vaporetti were very crowded, and the canal near the Rialto bridge was a giant traffic jam. I actually felt nervous about all the boat traffic there. We had hoped to rent the Contessa’s boat for half a day and motor around the canals ourselves, but after seeing the mass of boats on the Grand Canal (which we would have to travel), Charley doesn’t really want to drive a boat here. He’s an experienced boat driver on the lakes of Tennessee—but he’s definitely not prepared to drive a boat in a situation like this. We’re amazed at how Venice has to operate—everything must come in and out by boat and then be hauled by hand on the tiny cobblestone streets and passageways: building materials, trash, restaurant supplies, furniture. No wonder it is quite expensive here—the logistics are extremely complicated. There are so many different kinds of boats on the canals—vaporetti, gondolas, water taxis, private boats, police boats, trash boats, truck boats, ambulance boats. I read that over 50% of Venetian families own a boat. We ended up back at St. Mark’s Square where there were supposed to be two bookshops. One bookshop simply wasn’t there (or we couldn’t find it) and the other shop (a tourist center) had some very good English books (fiction) set in Venice, but they were extremely expensive. So our search for English books wasn’t very successful today. Maybe we will have better luck in the much larger city of Rome. While we were at St. Mark’s Square today, I bought Kelly a euro’s worth of food to feed the pigeons. There are thousands and thousands of pigeons on the square and several little stands of people selling food. The instant Kelly started putting out food, the pigeons began to swarm her. She got spooked and threw down all of the food and ran away. There were pigeons everywhere and in 30 seconds all the food was gone. Kelly didn’t like this experience at all. I did see other people who were more patient (and less fearful) with the pigeons. One little girl had two pigeons perched on her arm. Today wasn’t really the greatest day, which is too bad since it was our anniversary. It wasn’t just because of the mediocre lunch and our lack of success with the bookstores—the three of us kind of sniped at each other all day. We’ve now been together 24/7 since we left Provence two-and-a-half weeks ago, and we’re not used to this much togetherness in a “vacation” situation. We haven’t done this since last September. We each have our own opinions about what to do, where to eat, when to get gelato etc., and it seems like Kelly is now struggling to be an equal with Charley and I. She doesn’t want to be a junior member of the family. Today she and I even argued over who would hold the map and find our way around the city. We all recognize we have a problem and are trying to do better, but it is difficult—especially here in a city where it’s somewhat stressful anyway. I also realized today that Charley was having a less-than-enthusiastic reaction to Venice. (Perhaps that is why he hasn’t really taken hold of researching and planning our time here.) I was in my own zone of just loving Venice and suddenly I sensed that Charley wasn’t having a similar experience. I asked him about this and I was right—he doesn’t like it all that much, though he says he’s trying to like it. First I thought his reaction was due to the idea of the city sitting on top of the water, somehow built on top of logs that were put there hundreds of years ago. I remembered that he was uncomfortable at Gants Mill in England because he didn’t like the idea of a river running underneath our house. How would he feel now about a city built over top of a lagoon? But now I think he’s turned off by the obvious decay of the city. One of our guidebooks said that our children’s children may not even see Venice—that it’s crumpling around us, actually sinking into the water a bit every year. Venice can definitely be seen in two ways. There are absolutely beautiful buildings, but many of them are very shabby with their paint flaking off. Graffiti artists have defaced much of the city. Many buildings and canals are being repaired—a good thing—but this makes many areas seem like a construction zone. The canals are beautiful, but they produce mosquitoes and sometimes a musty smell. The boat transportation is interesting and fun, but also frustrating, crowded and sort of dirty. The shops have lots of beautiful things (lovely glassware, high fashion, the unique masks), but then there are so many of the shops—all selling the same things—that it seems in a way like a giant tourist trap. There are beggars and endless African men selling the same fake designer purses. And then it really is very crowded… so many people drawn here to see this unique city—all clambering to visit St. Mark’s Square, ride the gondolas, walk over the Rialto Bridge, and feed the pigeons. We’ve heard more American voices in Venice in the past three days than we’ve heard since we left home in June. All this is such a very big contrast to the quiet little life we led outside in the countryside in Provence. I choose to see the Venice that is beautiful, unique and full of history. And I accept that it’s crowded because other people are drawn to have the same experience. But I can also understand how Charley can see another Venice that’s not so appealing. We need to plan our next few days to do less dashing around to the most popular spots using the vaporetti. Perhaps one day we should even do a day trip out of the city. We came back to the apartment for a couple of hours. I went upstairs to work on the computer and finally was able to post my blog about Oberammergau. I never found a way to post it from Lake Como last week. We went out to dinner about 7 pm, returning to the same restaurant where we ate on Saturday night after we arrived. We had another good meal, each of us having a primo and a secondo. Tonight Charley had lasagna and chicken, Kelly had buttered spaghetti and chicken, and I had spaghetti with clams and veal marsala. The chicken wasn’t as good as Kelly’s had been on Saturday, since both Charley and Kelly ended up with legs and thighs today instead of the juicy white meat Kelly had the other day. We all passed on dessert. Our main anniversary present will be the Vivaldi concert tomorrow night. Charley did give me a pretty pair of glass earrings (matching my turquoise sweater) that Kelly helped him pick out. I gave him a pretty card of Venice that I bought at one of the upscale paper shops. Tuesday, May 3 We were up early this morning, so we could use the vaporetti system for the rest of our 24-hour pass. Charley got breakfast bread at the little shop down the street where he bought breakfast pastries on Sunday. The nice owner speaks English and was extremely friendly to us when we stopped in on Sunday afternoon. He said he works all day every day but Monday… gets to his shop at 5 am in the morning to bake his fresh croissants. We managed to leave our apartment by 9:30 and were out before most of the crowds. Our first destination was the Rialto Market, supposedly one of the top produce and fish markets in the world. We decided to go today so we could buy a few things we could eat during the rest of our week here. We took the vaporetto from the Accademia Bridge to the Rialto Bridge and then walked up over the bridge. The Rialto Bridge is actually quite wide with pedestrian walks along both sides and two rows of tiny shops in the center with another narrow pedestrian walk between the shops. We stopped at two shops to look at leather purses—mine is getting pretty sad. I finally decided that if I bought a new purse, it would likely be ruined before we get home. I might as well save my money and just keep on ruining this purse I’ve been using since we started our trip. One young man got very angry with me when I didn’t end up buying one of his purses. I think perhaps we weren’t supposed to walk inside his shop or maybe we weren’t supposed to touch the purses… I’m not sure, but he shifted very quickly from pleasant salesperson to hateful salesperson. We walked down through the market area on the other side of the bridge. There are an incredible number of souvenir shops in this area—just as there seem to be all over Venice—selling t-shirts, masks, jewelry and glassware. I read that there are over 1000 glass shops in the San Marco area alone. The masks are quite interesting… a major feature of the annual Venice Carnival. There are tiny souvenir masks and then large (expensive)