The Adventures of Team H

Once again, we've stumbled by chance into an internet cafe (or 'internet point' - in fact there's no coffee here). This one in Venice is the strangest we've seen yet, but the details are not central to the story. So enough about the internet point...

Yesterday we arrived in Venice by rail. Once you get off the train and step out of the station, there it all is - no build-up or suspense - simply what you expect and came to see: the Grand Canal, lined by quant old buildings, trafficked by motorboats and gondolas. Just like the movies, the photographs and paintings.

Gondolas at Dusk

Crossing a typical canal in Venice

The most interesting unexpected impression was the quietness here (albeit New Years Day). There are absolutely no cars or motorcycles anywhere, a charming and welcome realization after Rome and Florence. We bought a map, took the tall footbridge over the canal and found our humble hotel with minimal trouble.

At this end of the city the tourists were sparse, and we felt empowered, able to take on this truly walkable city. We set out that afternoon for St. Mark square located at the other end of town. Initially the map helped. We followed a highlighted path on the map that guided us through dozens of narrow zigzag stone-paved streets past some churches, statues, pizza joints and shops along the way. Then, we discovered, an hour or two later, we were still going along like this, zigzagging, now joined by more tourists, mostly European and American window-shoppers. We gradually gave up on the map and started relying on signs and arrows. Night fell, and we continued. At least once, we went in a circle. More small canal crossings, statues and churches and piazzas - dozens maybe? At least 2 statues of St. Bartholemew, it seemed. Finally we arrived (with everybody else) at St. Marks square and the waterfront.

St. Mark's Square

Church in scaffolds, from our water taxi

Like in Rome and Florence, much of the area seems to be under winter season renovation, creating eyesores where impressive monuments should be. But we found the perfect condition of the buildings here to be suitably impressive. We walked the waterfront and passed vendors, games and a circus like atmosphere. At last it got cold and we headed back.

Ah, if it were only that simple... We tried that night to retrace our steps. Several hours and one shameful Burger King stop later, we finally made it back to the hotel. (Pictures and videos will be up asap)

Today, having had our fill of the inner streets, we took the water taxis around and visited the nearby island of Murano (where we even got a glass pendant or 2). This place was a bit more laid back, conducive to strolling. Funny though, a whole island of almost nothing but glass shops.

Time to sign off. Tomorrow at 6:51 am is our train to Innsbruck.

Etruscan Ampitheatre Ruins

Pathway through the ruins

The last day in Florence, we braved the bus system to get outside the city center, up to Fiesole, for the afternoon. Fiesole is famous for its Etruscan ruins and supposedly cooler climate, which wasn't really a draw, seeing as how we were already freezing. Nevertheless, the thinner crowds, relatively open spaces, and expansive views were definitely worth the trip.

The museum at the Etruscan ruins site emphasizes that Fiesole is not necessarily the only site where the Etruscans lived, but that red tape keeps other sites from being excavated. We saw the ruins of a temple, some baths, etc. As with a lot of sites in Italy, there wasn't much information about what we were looking at, but the ruins were situated in an exceptionally peaceful place so we stayed for a while and mainly enjoyed the place as you would a park.

At that point, we were starting to peter out and desperately required some rest, which is why this entry is extremely short.

Etruscan Temple Ruins

Roman Bath Ruins

The morning of our final day in Rome, we hopped on the bus to cross the Tiber river over to Vatican City.

We held reservations for 8:15 am, so we felt confident as we got off and began our approach to the imposing Vatican. Only one thing troubled us: Where do we go stand in line? We know we have to meet the guide at the Museum entrance. That must be here, at the Church, right?
Oops...
With some fumbling and direction-asking, we determined we were around 1 km away from the Museum entrance! Time to hustle... We speed-walked down the street, obeying some rough directions. We came upon an intersection, and a mysterious American woman, sensing our befuddlement, instructed us to turn left and pass everbody standing in line, and to carefully use the street to get around them if need be. Running out of time now, we did exactly this, passing hundreds of visitors in a line 10 people thick - evidently the ones lacking reservations. Then we kept passing more hundreds of people. Dodging motorcycles and little cars every now and then. Finally we made it to what appeared to be the Museum entrance... Now, where's our guide? The frantic search for him began. There seemed to be a half dozen tour groups swirling around. Then by accident we found a few of our own tour group members. Then, our smiling guide showed up, and we were finally back in business.

The next few hours were total immersion in art. Our guide took us through rows of sculpture, paintings, frescos, tapestries, explaining everything he could and answering any and all questions, offering a lot of historical context. After some anticipation, we finally entered the Sistine Chapel (where no photography is allowed), followed up by Saint Peter's Basilica. It's tough to do justice trying to describe these sights, while writing from a timed terminal at an internet cafe. But again, imagine total art immersion! Sistine = Paintings, Everywhere! St. Peters = Sculpture and tombs and marble decor, everywhere! My hope is that some choice photo uploads will help where the prose falls short.

After all this we were pretty hungry and tired, ready for a quick pizza lunch down the street. This was achieved with ease. Now refueled, we walked out toward a fortress-like castle just to the east, then followed the river south, sort of aimlessly, half trying to make it to another church. But we had already had a full day and a full Rome experience, and remembered the adage, that you can' see everything on one trip. Satisfied, we took a bus back to the hotel and began plotting our next move up through Italy.

Our wake-up call was for 6 a.m., but we did not get up. Finally, we got up around 7. Lucky us -- ten minutes more and we would have missed the last train to Florence until 10 p.m. We did not know where the train station was, how we would get there, or whether we needed to validate our Eurail passes before boarding. To say we were winging it would be an understatement. After a little misplaced (thankfully, not stolen) ipod drama, the woman at the hotel front desk called us a taxi.

One look at the departures-arrivals screen revealed we were two minutes away from missing the last train of the morning (or the afternoon or early early evening, for that matter), which was idling on track 5. I vaguely remembered from my last trip to Europe that the rail system is somewhat informal and that we might be fine if we just boarded. I started running toward the track (it was very dramatic), hoping Eric would just trust me on this one.

After the first stop, we got two seats together and were travelling in comfort, despite the fact I was still concerned we might be on a car destined to split off and head for who-knows-where instead of Florence. Everything ended up fine in the end. We discovered that we should have indeed validated the tickets, but the conductor gave us no trouble. Also, the entire train was headed to Florence. The only problem was that the trip took three hours when it was supposed to take an hour and a half. We were starving and thirsty because we had not planned for such a long trip and grew increasingly frustrated with each stop (not to mention the extremely physical teenage couple that sat in front of us halfway through the ride). We still do not know what happened!

Sleeping under frescoes

The hotel was a few blocks walk from the station (again, a lucky break). If you ever stay in Florence, you have to stay at the Hotel Burchianti. It is as comfortable as it is beautiful ... there is an original 15th century fresco on the domed ceiling in our room. The scene is hard to describe ... all I can say is there are cherubs, a family, clouds, and a tiger.

Once we settled in, we headed out for lunch and to get the lay of the land. After pizza, calzone, and chianti from a Tuscan region we had passed not more than two hours prior on the train (Figlene), we were at Santa Maria del Fiore within ten minutes of walking. Pictures do not do justice to the scale of the tower and the Duomo. We wandered all around the piazza, just staring up at the structures. We got in a line we thought might be to climb the dome and were entertained by a truly talented street performer. Eric took video; when we get it up on the blog, you have to watch it. We did not really know what to expect, but we were soon climbing in excess of 460 steps spiraling upward in a narrow column. We got to the top of the dome interior, where we got a closer look at the heaven-hell painting all around. We were surprised to learn that there were more steps to climb after circling the dome. At the top of the stairs was an outdoor balcony. At first it was scary especially since I was dizzy from climbing the spiral steps, but the view was unbelievable (again, I cant do it justice, and neither can our pictures). It was all a wonderful accident.

Leather goods and shiny things

After that, I figured we would just set out in the direction of the river. That took us through the shopping district and straight into some serious crowds. I was annoyed, but could not resist the outdoor markets. For those of you who are counting, I have already bought two purses (I probably will not be buying any more, it just cost me 98€ to ship everything home, but that is a story for another day). We did finally make it down to the Arno and the Ponte Vecchio. I was both disappointed and delighted. The bridge itself was more enclosed than I had envisioned, but the whole thing is filled with jewery shops! Of course the crowds -- and the scornful look on Erics face -- stopped me from going inside any of them.

We are just a little bit north of Rome, but already it is much, much colder. As we were forced back to the hotel by the cold, I stopped off for some leather gloves. I was getting worried because we still have much further north to go, we both bought warmer coats today, so things should be manageable for at least a while (all bets are off in Prague).

Today, we went the the Gallery Accademia (sp. -- this is costing me 4€ an hour at the Internet cafe, you will have to forgive any mistakes) and the Uffizi. We got to the Accademia as it opened. Because we had the place to ourselves for the first ten minutes, we decided to race right to the David. One of the better ideas I have had this trip. I will be honest, I sometimes get bored looking at art (I like what I like and have not yet learned to truly appreciate the rest), but I could have looked at David all day. The space, lighting and treatment (not to mention, ample room to sit) they give the most prominent works probably help. Overall, it was an impressive museum. It is a manageable size and the crowds were small, so we really enjoyed ourselves.

Confessions of a carnivore

I have a confession to make. After we left, we stopped into a McDonalds. We didnt just go in for cappucino. We didnt even use the restroom (as we have done there so many times over the last week -- it is one of the only reliable places to find a restroom). We had a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for the Big Mac. I will leave you to picture what happened next. We are not proud.

Our bellies full of ground beef (or whatever they make those patties out of), delicious secret sauce, and the first onions I have had all week (do Italians not cook with onions?), we headed again to the river to get to the Uffizi. The Uffizi is a test of endurance. We had reservations, but it took some time to find Door 3, where we would exchange those for tickets. There was a line to do this. Then, it took time to find Door 1, where we would supposedly gain entrance. There was a line at Door 1 just to be told to go to Door 2, where, you guessed it, there was a line. Then, there was a line for the metal detector, which comes in second to the airport for screening rigor -- we had to remove our coats and scarves. Then we reached an entrance where we showed our tickets and thought we were in. Then, there were four or five flights of stairs before we had to show our tickets again. But Boticelli made it (and the exceptionally rude employees) all worth it. Having spent some time on Boticelli in UCSD art history classes (Its a fact: Art History was the only subject I ever got an A in in college), I was really looking forward to "Birth of Venus" but was delighted to rediscover "Spring." Needless to say, they sold enough Boticelli schwag to appropriately extend the hapy half hour I spent taking those two works in. Other standouts were Titian and Caravaggio (why do I love the Medusa so?).

There is lots more to say, but my pre-paid hour at the Internet cafe is coming to a close and I am looking forward to some hot bean soup and (a Tuscan specialty, so I read) and more chianti. Tomorrow, we go to Fiesole. Ciao!

We woke up too late to take advantage of the hotel's breakfast offerings, so we stopped at a cafe around the corner called "Cafe de Paris." Walking by the morning of Day 2, the impressive pastry cases had made a lasting impression. Knowing it was probably a mistake, I tried to order quiche. I don't know the rules, but everything Americans eat for breakfast seems to be a no-no before noon in Europe -- the quiche had "not arrived yet." Eric and I both settled on a ham and cheese sandwich, criossants, cappucino, and canoli to finish! I say breakfast here is like "eating in a vacuum." If it's not ceral or eggs, what's the difference between pizza and a sandwich?

All roads lead to Rome (but who knows where they go once you get there?)

Next, we attempted what we thought was a straight shot to the Borghese Villa, but no "straight shots" exist in Rome (even if a street continues in a straight line for some time, the name changes at least twice before you reach your turnoff). Getting there was tricky -- signs for major attractions in Rome often get you going in the general direction, but leave you hanging a few blocks later. Eventually we decided to hang a left and follow the wall we surmised surrounded the considerable grounds. Bingo! The villa was one of the only things we opted not to reserve in advance. The museum was sold out for the day, so we made reservations for tomorrow and decided to walk the grounds. They were unlike anything we had ever seen before, and proved to be a peaceful, spacious respite from the bustling city outside, which we would soon find was more crowded than the previous two days.

We happened upon the Spanish Steps again, and stood still for too long. A man selling roses approached us and proceeded to "give" me three roses. I really didn't want them, but he insisted, saying they were a gift because he was so enchanted with my beauty (my own words, but you get the idea) as he placed them in my arm. Finally I gave up and we started to walk away when he demanded "just a little money." Eric fished coins out of his pocket and gave the man two euros. He asked for more, and after Eric stopped with five euros, the man took back two of the roses!

The Pantheon had been closed the day before (We realized later that this was most likley due to rain, given the fact that the famed opening in the dome is not covered by glass, and marble floors plus water equal liability). We got overconfident and stopped consulting the map, which meant it took us longer to locate the Pantheon today than the day before. While navigating streets increasingly crowded with people and cars was annoying, we got some great shopping in. OK, I got some great shopping in; I've been waiting months to go to Zara!. Finally, we turned a corner and suddenly saw the behemoth building -- these moments of surprise being one of my favorite things about Europe. What can I say about the Pantheon that would do it justice? Personally, I prefer the exterior.

Was it something I said?

We left and had pizza a taglio, which you pay for by weight! After greeting me with "Ciao," the girl behind the counter did a double-take and corrected with, "Hi." As Eric and I ate our pizza (truly an upgrade from the stuff back home; wiah I had ordered more), we wondered what it was about our appearance that instantly gave us away as Americans. We narrowed it down to our hair, the cut of our pants, and our facial expressions before setting out to see the Trevi Fountain. We wrestled our way to the front of the fountain, threw in our coins, and took some proper photos. all with shopping bags in one hand and gelatto in the other. A note about gelatto: Eric would never eat it at home because it looked "too wet," but now he's hooked like me.

Tomorrow is our last day in Rome, and we will be making the most of it with a Vatican tour and a much-anticipated return to the Borghese Villa. Buonasera!