Sorry for the delay - pictures are finally up! As promised, there is a big album with all of the photos we took for those of you with time to kill. For everyone else, there is a captioned "Best of" album (which still has 189 pictures).
Link: europevicariously.shutterfly.com
We hope you enjoy them!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Home again, home again...and Paris!
We're officially back in the US, safe and sound. Before I launch into how wonderful it is to be typing this entry from my couch at 70 Arbor Street (having slept on a real bed, with a clean indoor bathroom, and a real cup of American coffee by my side), I have to tell you about grand Paris (pronounced Par-ee, of course).
Before you ask, yes it is possible to camp in Paris. There is a grand total of one campsite, located in the city's version of Central Park (Bois de Boulogne). They provide a not-so-courteous courtesy shuttle, which you have to pay for, that takes you to Porte Maillot, a stop on Paris' Metro line number 1. Though the park itself is definitely sketchy during the evening, I assure you we felt quite safe throughout our stay.
Like Rome, it would be impossible to give a detailed account of everything we did during our five days in Paris, so instead, I'll stick to the highlights. The good news is that I can also use photos in this post (since is a picture is worth 1,000 words, of course). Unfortunately, it rained for almost the entirety of our stay in the City of Lights, so we didn't get to hang out in grassy parks and people-watch as much as we'd hoped. BUT, as far as I'm concerned, the weather didn't stop us from having a fantastic time.
Day One: Before the rain really set in, we had the chance to do an early morning city walk where we saw the shockingly-gothic Notre Dame Cathedral. Though we weren't able to spot Quasimodo himself, we did see some creepy gargoyles and got some great photos of what our guidebook referred to as the church's "muscular buttresses" (tee hee).
The photo here doesn't quite do justice to this awe-inspiring church, but it certainly gives you an idea. Imagine starting construction on this massive project, which was largely the work of community volunteers, in the hopes that your great, great, great grandchildren would one day be able to attend the opening ceremony nearly 200 years later.
Next we went to the gorgeous Saint Chapelle church. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but the inside walls are constructed almost entirely of stained glass, an overwhelming effect. Each giant panel of stained glass (of which there are 16) contains hundreds of tiny biblical scenes which proceed in chronological order from left to right. It ultimately tells the story of the entire history of the world from start to finish (according to the bible, of course).
We also saw the Conciergerie, where prisoners such as the infamous Marie Antoinette waited for the guillotine to make them a foot shorter on top; the Opera Garnier, a lavish opera house with a grand ceiling painted by Chagall in his very recognizable, whimsical, primary color cartoon-like style; and the Galeries Lafayette, where we purchased some fleece blankets to get us through the rainy nights in our tent. We finished off the night with a guided boat cruise of the Seine, where we were able to see many of Paris' biggest hits framed by pale yellow floodlights from our dry, cozy seat on the boat.
Day Two: We spent the entirety of our second full day in Paris at Versailles. The chateau itself was just as luxuriously gaudy as you could possibly imagine, and the gardens were truly amazing. Perhaps lesser known than the palace itself is the imaginary village Marie Antoinette created for herself so that she could pretend to be a peasant. The set-up was like something out of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, truly an 18th century Disney World:
Day Three: Day Three had the misfortune of falling on August 15th. August 15th happens to be a French holiday that must rank up there with Christmas and New Years, because the first three museums we tried to go to were closed. Darn. We did get to wander around a few beautiful neighborhoods and ultimately ended up at the Pompidou Center which was open for the day. The Pompidou Center is a museum of modern art, including the building itself. It was constructed as an "inside out" building, which means all of the escalators, pipes, tubes, and wires are outside the walls. Casey and I both enjoyed the top floor of artwork which represented the years 1900-1960. The other floor was work from 1960-present and housed a special exhibit consisting entirely of works of art by women. It was cool in concept, but proved to be a bit too modern for our tastes. (Many of the exhibits were meant to elicit shock, disgust, confusion and sadness). As it turns out, the perfect remedy to recover from a long rainy day full of closed museums is some hot, delicious falafel, a bottle of wine, and some card games.
Day Four: Rain again. Ugh. Not to be deterred from having a good time, we started the day with a climb up l'Arc de Triomphe to look over Paris' wheel spoke layout. Then we strolled down the Champs Elysees. To an outsider, it may have looked less like a stroll, and more like me clutching onto Casey's arm for dear life to avoid slipping on the slick wet curbs and cobblestones in my flip-flops.
Despite this, we had a grand time window shopping, perusing the 450 euro t-shirts and paying the equivalent of 7 dollars for some chapstick. Paris, overpriced? No! Next we visited the Orangerie, a small museum that's best known for housing Monet's waterlily paintings. This beautiful display (which we both loved) is considered by some to be the very first art installation, as the 80 year old Monet actually designed the canvases knowing they would be displayed in the oblong, skylit rooms of the museum. The afternoon was reserved for our visit to the Louvre where our Rick Steves tour gave us a two hour long crash course of all of the museum's most famous pieces of artwork. We did, of course, see the Mona Lisa. Though I certainly appreciated the painting, it was nearly impossible to be emotionally moved by it. The giant mobs of tourists shoving and snapping photos at the tiny canvas which was housed behind the glare of a sheet of bullet-proof glass made me feel underwhelmed by the whole experience. So physically moved by mobs of people? Yes. Emotionally moved by Lisa's elusive smile? Not so much. But, Casey loved it and neither of us regretted the trip to see it.
The final activity for the day (as the rain let up and the skies began to clear) was a hike up the Eiffel Tower in the evening. I say hike, because there was no way were were going to stand in a huge line and pay 8 euro for an elevator when we could stand in a short line and pay only 3.50 to climb the 750 stairs to the second story. The climb itself was an adrenaline-pumping experience. The wobbly stairs are enclosed by a cage so you can't fall, but I would not recommend the climb to anyone with a fear of heights...On the second platform, the tower began to shimmer as the clock struck 10pm. This new-ish light display was installed for the turn of the century and it was such a hit that the tower now sparkles every evening on the hour. As we ascended the final third of the tower (in an elevator by necessity this time), I couldn't help but think of how old this structure was. And why am I trusting my life to this tower, which was hastily erected as a temporary structure for the 1889 world's fair??? Rest assured, I did my research first. The construction of the tower is so sound and the weight so evenly distributed that the pressure per square inch of the 10,000 ton structure on it's four massive concrete bases is no more than a man standing on tiptoe.
Day Five: Our final day in Paree! We visited the Musee D'Orsay in the morning where we got our impressionist fix in the converted train station. Casey got a bit cranky because some of the display was being renovated. Consequently, when Rick Steves told us which paintings to look at, they were not in their proper locations. Tragedy! We recovered from this traumatic reorganization with a trip to the Rodin museum, where the sculptor's works were displayed exactly in the order Rick Steves predicted. Phew! We made a mandatory stop at a patisserie for some sweets before heading over to see Napoleon's tomb and the Army Museum. There was a fascinating and very moving exhibit on WWII (with a focus on French involvement, of course). General Patton was mentioned more than a handful of times which inspired a bit of hometown pride.
At this point in the evening, our lovely last day in Paris, which was not as rainy as the others and therefore considered to be good weather, was far from over. We had initially planned to spend a final night at our campground before catching our early morning flight, but the man at the information desk shook his head sadly while informing us that we "need to be sleeping in airport" as there was no form of public transit from our campsite that would get us there in time. Alright. No problem, right? So we had one last dinner and packed up camp for the last time on continental Europe. To minimize time in the airport, we planned to catch a late train out of the city. And that's when the trouble began. We arrived at the train station to find ALL ticket windows were clamped shut. Unfortunately, said train station was in a not-so-nice part of town, we were lugging around heavy backpacks, Casey desperately needed to pee, and one of us (whose name will not be mentioned) decided to discard his metro ticket despite knowing that we needed it to be allowed to exit the station onto street level. Several mini breakdowns ensued, for once, not one of them mine (!) before we located a coin-only ticket machine, sprinted to a bakery where the owner was cashing out, asked for 20 euro in coins in broken French, purchased our tickets, and got the h*ll out of Dodge.
One night of restless sleep in Charles de Gaulle airport, and we were on our way home. Sort of. More like on our way to Iceland, which, believe it or not, is cold. (See previous post).
Thus concludes our Europe Blog. Thanks for reading along. Seriously. If a few people enjoyed reading this half as much as we enjoyed writing it, then the whole thing was worth it. Our next (and last) post will be a link to our photo albums where I'll do my best to provide helpful captions that label everything we tried (sometimes futilely) to describe to you. We'll make two albums available, one with all 500 hundred and some-odd pictures we took, and a second with our "best of" hits for the reader with better things to do than scroll through 500 pictures (some of which would make the bloopers reel if this were a video special...)
Vaarwel, Auf Wiedersehen, Ciao, Au Revoir, Goodbye!!!
Before you ask, yes it is possible to camp in Paris. There is a grand total of one campsite, located in the city's version of Central Park (Bois de Boulogne). They provide a not-so-courteous courtesy shuttle, which you have to pay for, that takes you to Porte Maillot, a stop on Paris' Metro line number 1. Though the park itself is definitely sketchy during the evening, I assure you we felt quite safe throughout our stay.
Like Rome, it would be impossible to give a detailed account of everything we did during our five days in Paris, so instead, I'll stick to the highlights. The good news is that I can also use photos in this post (since is a picture is worth 1,000 words, of course). Unfortunately, it rained for almost the entirety of our stay in the City of Lights, so we didn't get to hang out in grassy parks and people-watch as much as we'd hoped. BUT, as far as I'm concerned, the weather didn't stop us from having a fantastic time.
Day One: Before the rain really set in, we had the chance to do an early morning city walk where we saw the shockingly-gothic Notre Dame Cathedral. Though we weren't able to spot Quasimodo himself, we did see some creepy gargoyles and got some great photos of what our guidebook referred to as the church's "muscular buttresses" (tee hee).
The photo here doesn't quite do justice to this awe-inspiring church, but it certainly gives you an idea. Imagine starting construction on this massive project, which was largely the work of community volunteers, in the hopes that your great, great, great grandchildren would one day be able to attend the opening ceremony nearly 200 years later.
Next we went to the gorgeous Saint Chapelle church. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but the inside walls are constructed almost entirely of stained glass, an overwhelming effect. Each giant panel of stained glass (of which there are 16) contains hundreds of tiny biblical scenes which proceed in chronological order from left to right. It ultimately tells the story of the entire history of the world from start to finish (according to the bible, of course).
We also saw the Conciergerie, where prisoners such as the infamous Marie Antoinette waited for the guillotine to make them a foot shorter on top; the Opera Garnier, a lavish opera house with a grand ceiling painted by Chagall in his very recognizable, whimsical, primary color cartoon-like style; and the Galeries Lafayette, where we purchased some fleece blankets to get us through the rainy nights in our tent. We finished off the night with a guided boat cruise of the Seine, where we were able to see many of Paris' biggest hits framed by pale yellow floodlights from our dry, cozy seat on the boat.
Day Two: We spent the entirety of our second full day in Paris at Versailles. The chateau itself was just as luxuriously gaudy as you could possibly imagine, and the gardens were truly amazing. Perhaps lesser known than the palace itself is the imaginary village Marie Antoinette created for herself so that she could pretend to be a peasant. The set-up was like something out of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, truly an 18th century Disney World:
Day Three: Day Three had the misfortune of falling on August 15th. August 15th happens to be a French holiday that must rank up there with Christmas and New Years, because the first three museums we tried to go to were closed. Darn. We did get to wander around a few beautiful neighborhoods and ultimately ended up at the Pompidou Center which was open for the day. The Pompidou Center is a museum of modern art, including the building itself. It was constructed as an "inside out" building, which means all of the escalators, pipes, tubes, and wires are outside the walls. Casey and I both enjoyed the top floor of artwork which represented the years 1900-1960. The other floor was work from 1960-present and housed a special exhibit consisting entirely of works of art by women. It was cool in concept, but proved to be a bit too modern for our tastes. (Many of the exhibits were meant to elicit shock, disgust, confusion and sadness). As it turns out, the perfect remedy to recover from a long rainy day full of closed museums is some hot, delicious falafel, a bottle of wine, and some card games.
Day Four: Rain again. Ugh. Not to be deterred from having a good time, we started the day with a climb up l'Arc de Triomphe to look over Paris' wheel spoke layout. Then we strolled down the Champs Elysees. To an outsider, it may have looked less like a stroll, and more like me clutching onto Casey's arm for dear life to avoid slipping on the slick wet curbs and cobblestones in my flip-flops.
Despite this, we had a grand time window shopping, perusing the 450 euro t-shirts and paying the equivalent of 7 dollars for some chapstick. Paris, overpriced? No! Next we visited the Orangerie, a small museum that's best known for housing Monet's waterlily paintings. This beautiful display (which we both loved) is considered by some to be the very first art installation, as the 80 year old Monet actually designed the canvases knowing they would be displayed in the oblong, skylit rooms of the museum. The afternoon was reserved for our visit to the Louvre where our Rick Steves tour gave us a two hour long crash course of all of the museum's most famous pieces of artwork. We did, of course, see the Mona Lisa. Though I certainly appreciated the painting, it was nearly impossible to be emotionally moved by it. The giant mobs of tourists shoving and snapping photos at the tiny canvas which was housed behind the glare of a sheet of bullet-proof glass made me feel underwhelmed by the whole experience. So physically moved by mobs of people? Yes. Emotionally moved by Lisa's elusive smile? Not so much. But, Casey loved it and neither of us regretted the trip to see it.
The final activity for the day (as the rain let up and the skies began to clear) was a hike up the Eiffel Tower in the evening. I say hike, because there was no way were were going to stand in a huge line and pay 8 euro for an elevator when we could stand in a short line and pay only 3.50 to climb the 750 stairs to the second story. The climb itself was an adrenaline-pumping experience. The wobbly stairs are enclosed by a cage so you can't fall, but I would not recommend the climb to anyone with a fear of heights...On the second platform, the tower began to shimmer as the clock struck 10pm. This new-ish light display was installed for the turn of the century and it was such a hit that the tower now sparkles every evening on the hour. As we ascended the final third of the tower (in an elevator by necessity this time), I couldn't help but think of how old this structure was. And why am I trusting my life to this tower, which was hastily erected as a temporary structure for the 1889 world's fair??? Rest assured, I did my research first. The construction of the tower is so sound and the weight so evenly distributed that the pressure per square inch of the 10,000 ton structure on it's four massive concrete bases is no more than a man standing on tiptoe.
Day Five: Our final day in Paree! We visited the Musee D'Orsay in the morning where we got our impressionist fix in the converted train station. Casey got a bit cranky because some of the display was being renovated. Consequently, when Rick Steves told us which paintings to look at, they were not in their proper locations. Tragedy! We recovered from this traumatic reorganization with a trip to the Rodin museum, where the sculptor's works were displayed exactly in the order Rick Steves predicted. Phew! We made a mandatory stop at a patisserie for some sweets before heading over to see Napoleon's tomb and the Army Museum. There was a fascinating and very moving exhibit on WWII (with a focus on French involvement, of course). General Patton was mentioned more than a handful of times which inspired a bit of hometown pride.
At this point in the evening, our lovely last day in Paris, which was not as rainy as the others and therefore considered to be good weather, was far from over. We had initially planned to spend a final night at our campground before catching our early morning flight, but the man at the information desk shook his head sadly while informing us that we "need to be sleeping in airport" as there was no form of public transit from our campsite that would get us there in time. Alright. No problem, right? So we had one last dinner and packed up camp for the last time on continental Europe. To minimize time in the airport, we planned to catch a late train out of the city. And that's when the trouble began. We arrived at the train station to find ALL ticket windows were clamped shut. Unfortunately, said train station was in a not-so-nice part of town, we were lugging around heavy backpacks, Casey desperately needed to pee, and one of us (whose name will not be mentioned) decided to discard his metro ticket despite knowing that we needed it to be allowed to exit the station onto street level. Several mini breakdowns ensued, for once, not one of them mine (!) before we located a coin-only ticket machine, sprinted to a bakery where the owner was cashing out, asked for 20 euro in coins in broken French, purchased our tickets, and got the h*ll out of Dodge.
One night of restless sleep in Charles de Gaulle airport, and we were on our way home. Sort of. More like on our way to Iceland, which, believe it or not, is cold. (See previous post).
Thus concludes our Europe Blog. Thanks for reading along. Seriously. If a few people enjoyed reading this half as much as we enjoyed writing it, then the whole thing was worth it. Our next (and last) post will be a link to our photo albums where I'll do my best to provide helpful captions that label everything we tried (sometimes futilely) to describe to you. We'll make two albums available, one with all 500 hundred and some-odd pictures we took, and a second with our "best of" hits for the reader with better things to do than scroll through 500 pictures (some of which would make the bloopers reel if this were a video special...)
Vaarwel, Auf Wiedersehen, Ciao, Au Revoir, Goodbye!!!
Saturday, August 21, 2010
August 21, Already?
Hi All--
Well, we were major slackers for the last week or two of our trip, and very little news surfaced on the blog. Our apologies! And now I´ve got a little timer ticking away on the bottom of my screen, and only ten or so minutes to hit you with some relevant info, so here goes.
The Loire Valley:
Most importantly, we had a bed! It was in a lovely B&B run by a strange, little Frenchman who had no end of recommendations for restaurants. So we ate well, marveled at the chateaux, and were very happy to have a warm room, complete with four walls and a roof, when the rain rolled in.
Paris:
E will almost definitely post a longer update on this in the next day or two. For now: it rained, then it poured; sometimes it was just overcast, but that only lasted for an hour or so, after which it rained again. Thank goodness Paris has so many excellent museums -- between the Louvre, the Orangerie, the Musee d´Orsay, etc etc, we rode out the weather. And we also managed to tromp around the Champs Elysees and hike up the Eiffel Tower during the few dry bouts. As I said, more on all that later.
Iceland:
Note for future travelers to this country: Packing to sleep outdoors in Italy during August does not prepare you to camp in Iceland at any time of year. Yes, it is greener than Greenland, but no, that does not mean it is warm. When everybody around you is marvelling at the wondrous weather, and you´re busy counting the number of toes that you´ve lost to frostbite, it´s safe to conclude that you failed to prepare for the weather.
Despite the miserable sleeping conditions, however, we loved Iceland. It was one of the only outdoorsy destinations during our six weeks, and the other -- Cinque Terre -- easily ranked among our favorites. The landscape is bizarrely alien, devoid of trees and wildlife, with volcanic ridges rearing out of grassy plains and the occassional sheep wandering freely nearby. We hiked among geysers, straddled tectonic divides, and rafted down a glacial river. Excellent times all around.
The Future:
We fly home this evening, and the feeling is bittersweet. It´s quite sad that our adventure is coming to an end, but six weeks is a very long time, and frankly, we´re missing some of the comforts of home. We greatly look forward to kittens, normal coffee, predictable weather, a newspaper in the morning, and bathrooms available whenever we need them. We will also have much better internet access, and more on Paris, along with massive picture updates, will soon follow.
So stay tuned!!
Well, we were major slackers for the last week or two of our trip, and very little news surfaced on the blog. Our apologies! And now I´ve got a little timer ticking away on the bottom of my screen, and only ten or so minutes to hit you with some relevant info, so here goes.
The Loire Valley:
Most importantly, we had a bed! It was in a lovely B&B run by a strange, little Frenchman who had no end of recommendations for restaurants. So we ate well, marveled at the chateaux, and were very happy to have a warm room, complete with four walls and a roof, when the rain rolled in.
Paris:
E will almost definitely post a longer update on this in the next day or two. For now: it rained, then it poured; sometimes it was just overcast, but that only lasted for an hour or so, after which it rained again. Thank goodness Paris has so many excellent museums -- between the Louvre, the Orangerie, the Musee d´Orsay, etc etc, we rode out the weather. And we also managed to tromp around the Champs Elysees and hike up the Eiffel Tower during the few dry bouts. As I said, more on all that later.
Iceland:
Note for future travelers to this country: Packing to sleep outdoors in Italy during August does not prepare you to camp in Iceland at any time of year. Yes, it is greener than Greenland, but no, that does not mean it is warm. When everybody around you is marvelling at the wondrous weather, and you´re busy counting the number of toes that you´ve lost to frostbite, it´s safe to conclude that you failed to prepare for the weather.
Despite the miserable sleeping conditions, however, we loved Iceland. It was one of the only outdoorsy destinations during our six weeks, and the other -- Cinque Terre -- easily ranked among our favorites. The landscape is bizarrely alien, devoid of trees and wildlife, with volcanic ridges rearing out of grassy plains and the occassional sheep wandering freely nearby. We hiked among geysers, straddled tectonic divides, and rafted down a glacial river. Excellent times all around.
The Future:
We fly home this evening, and the feeling is bittersweet. It´s quite sad that our adventure is coming to an end, but six weeks is a very long time, and frankly, we´re missing some of the comforts of home. We greatly look forward to kittens, normal coffee, predictable weather, a newspaper in the morning, and bathrooms available whenever we need them. We will also have much better internet access, and more on Paris, along with massive picture updates, will soon follow.
So stay tuned!!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Is Nice nice?
Ciao/Bonjour!
Since Casey is hacking away beside me at the impossible layout of the French keyboard to tell you about Florence, I figured I would use this time to give a little update about our time on the Italian and French Rivieras.
First stop - Cinque Terre. This amazing place, literally meaning "Five Lands", is the very picture of quaint-ness. (That's a word, right?) I should warn you now that this part of the trip went pretty smoothly so all I can do is gush about how perfect it was. This is your cue to skip to the next entry if you're the kind of person who only watches sports to see someone mess up and fall.
Our train ride was amazing not only because it was clean and quiet, but because the scenery was unbelievable. There had been thunderstorms all morning, so my first glimpse of the Mediterranean as we emerged from the train tunnel was bright blue churning water under a darkened, stormy sky. Wow. Our campsite in Levanto was gorgeous too -- we had our own little shady terrace surrounded by olive trees. Since this was the part of the trip where nothing was to go wrong, the skies cleared up just as we finished setting up the tent and we spent the afternoon lounging on the beach. Rough life, huh?
The next morning we embarked on what would ultimately be a 12 hour day of hiking between six towns. Because we camped in Levanto, which is not technically one of the 5 Cinque Terre cities, we added an extra leg of hiking to our trip. This part, our first hike of the day, turned out to be not only the most difficult, but the most beautiful. We wound along cliffside paths with panoramic views of the Mediterranean and the surrounding coastline. We went through vineyards, found secluded beaches, and hiked to the top of several small peaks. Not bad for a day's "work". And of course, we got something to eat in each of the towns -- both to give us a literal taste of the local culture, and to keep us going on the next leg of our trip.
An early morning train ride out of Levanto was when we bid farewell to Italy (or so we thought). Our connecting train was booked so we sat in a local Italian train station for a couple of hours until the next one came along.
There isn't too much else to report on the last couple of days in Biot (a small town on the French Riviera). We have been spending the majority of our time eating picnics and drinking cheap wine on the beach. Last night we ventured to Antibes for dinner and to explore the little downtown area. We ate an authentic French meal of garlic naan and chicken tikka masala, got a bit lost, did some window shopping, then meandered back to Biot. (Which, incidentally, is not prounounced "B.O." like body odor but "bee-ot". Way not as funny.)
Right now we are in the midst of a day trip to Nice which I am told is nice, but I wouldn't know yet because the only things I've seen have been the train station and this internet cafe. We are planning to grab some lunch and head to the Chagal and Matisse museums, climb a hill of some sort, and likely do some more lounging on a beach.
Miss you all!
Since Casey is hacking away beside me at the impossible layout of the French keyboard to tell you about Florence, I figured I would use this time to give a little update about our time on the Italian and French Rivieras.
First stop - Cinque Terre. This amazing place, literally meaning "Five Lands", is the very picture of quaint-ness. (That's a word, right?) I should warn you now that this part of the trip went pretty smoothly so all I can do is gush about how perfect it was. This is your cue to skip to the next entry if you're the kind of person who only watches sports to see someone mess up and fall.
Our train ride was amazing not only because it was clean and quiet, but because the scenery was unbelievable. There had been thunderstorms all morning, so my first glimpse of the Mediterranean as we emerged from the train tunnel was bright blue churning water under a darkened, stormy sky. Wow. Our campsite in Levanto was gorgeous too -- we had our own little shady terrace surrounded by olive trees. Since this was the part of the trip where nothing was to go wrong, the skies cleared up just as we finished setting up the tent and we spent the afternoon lounging on the beach. Rough life, huh?
The next morning we embarked on what would ultimately be a 12 hour day of hiking between six towns. Because we camped in Levanto, which is not technically one of the 5 Cinque Terre cities, we added an extra leg of hiking to our trip. This part, our first hike of the day, turned out to be not only the most difficult, but the most beautiful. We wound along cliffside paths with panoramic views of the Mediterranean and the surrounding coastline. We went through vineyards, found secluded beaches, and hiked to the top of several small peaks. Not bad for a day's "work". And of course, we got something to eat in each of the towns -- both to give us a literal taste of the local culture, and to keep us going on the next leg of our trip.
An early morning train ride out of Levanto was when we bid farewell to Italy (or so we thought). Our connecting train was booked so we sat in a local Italian train station for a couple of hours until the next one came along.
There isn't too much else to report on the last couple of days in Biot (a small town on the French Riviera). We have been spending the majority of our time eating picnics and drinking cheap wine on the beach. Last night we ventured to Antibes for dinner and to explore the little downtown area. We ate an authentic French meal of garlic naan and chicken tikka masala, got a bit lost, did some window shopping, then meandered back to Biot. (Which, incidentally, is not prounounced "B.O." like body odor but "bee-ot". Way not as funny.)
Right now we are in the midst of a day trip to Nice which I am told is nice, but I wouldn't know yet because the only things I've seen have been the train station and this internet cafe. We are planning to grab some lunch and head to the Chagal and Matisse museums, climb a hill of some sort, and likely do some more lounging on a beach.
Miss you all!
Great Expectations
Hi All!
It's been awhile since our last post, and it's now my job to fill you in on what you've missed. So bear with me as I cast my mind back to the days of yore, when we first arrived in Florence...
This city came with extremely, extremely high expectations, at least for me. Many people promised that it would be the most wonderful, romantic, gorgeous city that I had ever seen, that no other city in Europe could compare... And anything that receives that much hype is destined to disappoint in some respects.
For example: we came into the city having successfully located our campsite in multiple foreign locations, we knew that Florence had a simple, single-ticket bus system, and there was a bus route that began at the train station and ended at our campsite. We expected, therefore, to have no problems with our arrival.
These expectations were not met.
We had explicit directions to the exact corner near the station that the bus would stop at, but lo and behold, no stop was to be found. Some further searching located a sign for our bus a good 400 meters away -- unfortunately, the sign did not list the camping stop among the 45-ish destinations of the route. Okay, we told ourselves, no worries, we'll wait until the next one comes and ask the driver. Forty minutes later, with no bus on the horizon and the sun really laying the heat on thick, a miracle occurred: I randomly glanced at the route of a different bus, saw a "Camping" stop, and our tent was set up and ready to go ten minutes later. (Whew.)
We also expected no difficulties locating internet access. Our campsite had none, but we had been told that an excellent chain had sprouted multiple locations around the city, driving the sketchier joints out of business and providing super-easy access for tourists. Unfortunately, they have since gone out of business themselves, leaving a wasteland of abandoned computer terminals sprawling across Florence. (We did manage to find somewhere for Eliza to type up her Rome post, but declined to enter any delicate password information while there...)
The city itself, of course, could never live up to the fairy-tale land that I had created in my mind. Major differences between my imaginary Florence and the real one include the existence of a sewer system, pigeons, garbage cans, and other tourists.
And the art came with quite possibly the highest expectations, as Florence's museums are widely regarded to be some of the best in the world. I anticipated incredible things and occassionally got them (more on that later), but the collections ultimately focus on a very narrow time period, and there are only so many ways that you can marvel at the transition from flat, gilded medieval saints to brightly-colored, realistic, 3D Renaissance work.
That said, several expectations were not only met, but wildly exceeded.
Food, for starters. Okay, we'd been eating in Italy for a week and a half -- it's been wonderful, but there's only so much that one can do with cured meat, pasta, and pizza, right? Wrong! Maybe we just got lucky, maybe the food really is that much better, maybe we were just relieved that nobody tried to swindle us tableside. But as I look back over my notes from those three days, over half of them are spent describing meals and restaurants, talking about the free wine and the variety of cheese (one was made with pistachios!), the olive tapenades and the fresh, flaky bread, the tender beef carpaccio and the creamy tiramisu -- let's just say that if you ever visit, we have plenty of recommendations to send your way.
Also, the sunset. Everybody says that it's mind-boggling, and best viewed from the top of a very steep hill on the Piazzale Michelangelo. But did we really want to hike up 20 minutes worth of stairs just to watch some pretty colors flare over a river? Frankly, no -- but because our campsite was on top of the same hill and there was no way that I was dealing with the bus system again, we didn't have much of a choice. And the one night that this allowed us to catch the show in its entirety was truly spectacular. (I swear that we have pictures to prove it, you just have to wait until we find a way to upload them!)
And finally, David. The David. One of the most famous statues in the world, endlessly photographed, reproduced in every art history book ever, and even cast into multiple copies on display throughout the city. After seeing variations on this guy soooo many times, I truly didn't think I would be that impressed -- but absolutely none of the reproductions comes close to the splendor of the original.
I wish I could tell you exactly why. It was partly the display, at the end of a hall with a glass dome above, designed to filter and reflect natural light over him evenly; partly the size, a towering 17-some-odd feet; partly the backstory of Michelangelo carving him freehand out of a block of flawed marble, rejected by other, more senior sculptors; and partly David himself, the complexity of his expression, the angles of his limbs, the beauty of his pose. But there's something more ephemeral as well, something you can only know by experiencing. All else aside, Florence ranks among the top cities of our trip if only for the forty-five minutes that we spent walking around this single statue.
Other things you should know:
- We continued topping things, climbing 465 stairs to the heights of the Duomo.
- The Boboli Gardens contain an exquisite marble statue of a morbidly obese dwarf riding a turtle.
- McDonald's coffee is just as bad in Europe as it is in the States.
- And Eliza remains unbeatable in cribbage, but I shall never abandon hope.
LOVE TO ALL!
It's been awhile since our last post, and it's now my job to fill you in on what you've missed. So bear with me as I cast my mind back to the days of yore, when we first arrived in Florence...
This city came with extremely, extremely high expectations, at least for me. Many people promised that it would be the most wonderful, romantic, gorgeous city that I had ever seen, that no other city in Europe could compare... And anything that receives that much hype is destined to disappoint in some respects.
For example: we came into the city having successfully located our campsite in multiple foreign locations, we knew that Florence had a simple, single-ticket bus system, and there was a bus route that began at the train station and ended at our campsite. We expected, therefore, to have no problems with our arrival.
These expectations were not met.
We had explicit directions to the exact corner near the station that the bus would stop at, but lo and behold, no stop was to be found. Some further searching located a sign for our bus a good 400 meters away -- unfortunately, the sign did not list the camping stop among the 45-ish destinations of the route. Okay, we told ourselves, no worries, we'll wait until the next one comes and ask the driver. Forty minutes later, with no bus on the horizon and the sun really laying the heat on thick, a miracle occurred: I randomly glanced at the route of a different bus, saw a "Camping" stop, and our tent was set up and ready to go ten minutes later. (Whew.)
We also expected no difficulties locating internet access. Our campsite had none, but we had been told that an excellent chain had sprouted multiple locations around the city, driving the sketchier joints out of business and providing super-easy access for tourists. Unfortunately, they have since gone out of business themselves, leaving a wasteland of abandoned computer terminals sprawling across Florence. (We did manage to find somewhere for Eliza to type up her Rome post, but declined to enter any delicate password information while there...)
The city itself, of course, could never live up to the fairy-tale land that I had created in my mind. Major differences between my imaginary Florence and the real one include the existence of a sewer system, pigeons, garbage cans, and other tourists.
And the art came with quite possibly the highest expectations, as Florence's museums are widely regarded to be some of the best in the world. I anticipated incredible things and occassionally got them (more on that later), but the collections ultimately focus on a very narrow time period, and there are only so many ways that you can marvel at the transition from flat, gilded medieval saints to brightly-colored, realistic, 3D Renaissance work.
That said, several expectations were not only met, but wildly exceeded.
Food, for starters. Okay, we'd been eating in Italy for a week and a half -- it's been wonderful, but there's only so much that one can do with cured meat, pasta, and pizza, right? Wrong! Maybe we just got lucky, maybe the food really is that much better, maybe we were just relieved that nobody tried to swindle us tableside. But as I look back over my notes from those three days, over half of them are spent describing meals and restaurants, talking about the free wine and the variety of cheese (one was made with pistachios!), the olive tapenades and the fresh, flaky bread, the tender beef carpaccio and the creamy tiramisu -- let's just say that if you ever visit, we have plenty of recommendations to send your way.
Also, the sunset. Everybody says that it's mind-boggling, and best viewed from the top of a very steep hill on the Piazzale Michelangelo. But did we really want to hike up 20 minutes worth of stairs just to watch some pretty colors flare over a river? Frankly, no -- but because our campsite was on top of the same hill and there was no way that I was dealing with the bus system again, we didn't have much of a choice. And the one night that this allowed us to catch the show in its entirety was truly spectacular. (I swear that we have pictures to prove it, you just have to wait until we find a way to upload them!)
And finally, David. The David. One of the most famous statues in the world, endlessly photographed, reproduced in every art history book ever, and even cast into multiple copies on display throughout the city. After seeing variations on this guy soooo many times, I truly didn't think I would be that impressed -- but absolutely none of the reproductions comes close to the splendor of the original.
I wish I could tell you exactly why. It was partly the display, at the end of a hall with a glass dome above, designed to filter and reflect natural light over him evenly; partly the size, a towering 17-some-odd feet; partly the backstory of Michelangelo carving him freehand out of a block of flawed marble, rejected by other, more senior sculptors; and partly David himself, the complexity of his expression, the angles of his limbs, the beauty of his pose. But there's something more ephemeral as well, something you can only know by experiencing. All else aside, Florence ranks among the top cities of our trip if only for the forty-five minutes that we spent walking around this single statue.
Other things you should know:
- We continued topping things, climbing 465 stairs to the heights of the Duomo.
- The Boboli Gardens contain an exquisite marble statue of a morbidly obese dwarf riding a turtle.
- McDonald's coffee is just as bad in Europe as it is in the States.
- And Eliza remains unbeatable in cribbage, but I shall never abandon hope.
LOVE TO ALL!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
When in Rome...
I have been putting off composing an entry about Rome because we did so much in a few short days that the prospect of compiling the experience into a coherent post (within a 30 minute time limit) is daunting, to say the least. We hit all of the classic sites, with a few not-so-classic detours, ate lots of good food, ate some not-so-good food, and had a memorable night walk of the city in the rain.
Since I can't possibly describe everything in detail, I'll stick to a few sites and stories and the rest will have to wait for our return to the US. Our arrival was a complete disaster, to put it lightly. It was sweltering hot (even when you are expecting this kind of weather, the experience is not any more pleasant). Now, Casey did a great job planning, but for some reason, the campsite in Rome was unable to provide us with coherent directions for our arrival. We clung desperately to the hope that we would get on the Metro "A Line", the only public transportation we knew anything about, and would be able to find someone who could help us to navigate. Imagine our chagrin when we exited the train station to find a line of police officers directing crowds away from the "A Line" sign and signaling them to go elsewhere. Oh shoot. So we milled around a bit like lost sheep until we found some signs that looked like they may have been bus route listings. After much complaining, a little bickering, and a mild breakdown on my part, we boarded a bus that may or may not have been headed in the right direction (based on the driver's ever-so-unhelpful, non-committal shoulder shrug when I asked him about the camp ground).
After crossing a treacherous two lane highway on a blind corner (we looked both ways Mom, don't worry), we arrived at our campsite relatively unscathed. It was VERY worth it. The campsite had a pristine pool, and the most decadent bathrooms I've ever seen, complete with mosiac tiled floors, fountains, and classical music.
The evening brought a visit to the Borghese gallery, one of Casey's favorite parts of the city. The weather had cooled a bit as we strolled through the lovely villa grounds toward the museum, which houses unbelievable Bernini sculptures, gorgeous frescoes, and of course, some Caravaggios.
My favorite day was Day 2 in Rome. We spent the morning in St. Peter's Basilica, which was breathtaking. The entire basilica was designed with some ingenious optical illusions that are actually meant to make it look smaller than it is. It is for this reason that any picture you've ever seen of the interior simply cannot do it justice. For example, there is a tiny gold ribbon running along the top of the interior with some "best of" quotes by St. Peter. Once you learn that each black letter on the gold ribbon is actually 7 feet tall, you can start to get a sense of the actual size of this place. We followed the visit with a fantastic lunch at a little market. I'm starting to really enjoy this type of eatery because instead of trying (futily) to translate a menu, I can just point at something that looks delicious and smile. We ended up with salmon pasta salad, polenta in spinach cream sauce, meatballs, and a big old hunk of italian bread with cheese. My mouth still waters thinking about this random mish-mash of a picnic...
That afternoon we went to the Vatican museum, which was predictably clogged up with giant tour groups, but was a great experience nonetheless. Perhaps my favorite part of the day, however, was the evening. We had planned a night walk across Rome to see some of the famous piazzas and other outdoor attractions. And of course, it rained. I would like to remind you that Rome gets an average of one evening of rainfall per month in the summer. I guess we're just lucky? Anyway, we decided the show must go on, so we purchased sketchy umbrellas from a sketchy guy on the street and started our stroll. Anyone who has ever slipped on a slick curb wearing flip flops in the rain can picture the scene as we tried walking along Rome's cobblestone streets. As it turns out, the rain was a blessing in disguise. It was barely sprinkling, but it was enough to send most other not-so-brave tourist running for the hills. Who else can say they got the Trevi fountain completely to themselves on a summer evening??
During the rest of our stay in Rome, we also saw the Colosseum (of course), took a half day trip to a well-preserved ancient city called Ostia Antica (like a mini Pompeii without the volcano), checked out the Roman Forum, several more museums, the Pantheon (really incredible), and saw some gorgeous churches.
Our final meal in Rome was one that we will never forget. I'd like to say it was a romantic, delicious meal, but that would be a lie. We had intentions to check out a small restaurant recommended by our guidebook, but it was closed for the owners' three week vacation (not an uncommon thing in Italy). Instead, we got sucked into what we should have guessed was a tourist-trap restaurant -- something that our guidebook strongly recommends against. We thought, how bad can it be? The food looks good and not too expensive. So we sat down and order some food, which was indeed, quite tasty. It wasn't until I asked for the bill that we realized we'd been had. They sent out the muscular Roman owner, who crouched over our table and hand-wrote a completely illegible list of "charges" on our bill. I had the courage to ask what one of them was for, and he said, "You sit at my table, you pay this fee". Then, he informed us sternly that his services were NOT included in the price, took one step back from the table, folded his arms and waited for us to pay. Fearing for our lives, we paid the sketchy bill, left a generous tip (despite Italy's no-tipping norm), and ran. It's amazing how right it feels to pay 50 euros for 25 euros worth of food when you feel like you're going to be squashed by somebody. So yes, lesson learned. Ask about ALL charges and fees before you sit down. Otherwise, they can charge you for wearing a blue shirt and you can't say boo about it.
Ah well, you win some, you (really, really) lose some.
On to Florence!
Since I can't possibly describe everything in detail, I'll stick to a few sites and stories and the rest will have to wait for our return to the US. Our arrival was a complete disaster, to put it lightly. It was sweltering hot (even when you are expecting this kind of weather, the experience is not any more pleasant). Now, Casey did a great job planning, but for some reason, the campsite in Rome was unable to provide us with coherent directions for our arrival. We clung desperately to the hope that we would get on the Metro "A Line", the only public transportation we knew anything about, and would be able to find someone who could help us to navigate. Imagine our chagrin when we exited the train station to find a line of police officers directing crowds away from the "A Line" sign and signaling them to go elsewhere. Oh shoot. So we milled around a bit like lost sheep until we found some signs that looked like they may have been bus route listings. After much complaining, a little bickering, and a mild breakdown on my part, we boarded a bus that may or may not have been headed in the right direction (based on the driver's ever-so-unhelpful, non-committal shoulder shrug when I asked him about the camp ground).
After crossing a treacherous two lane highway on a blind corner (we looked both ways Mom, don't worry), we arrived at our campsite relatively unscathed. It was VERY worth it. The campsite had a pristine pool, and the most decadent bathrooms I've ever seen, complete with mosiac tiled floors, fountains, and classical music.
The evening brought a visit to the Borghese gallery, one of Casey's favorite parts of the city. The weather had cooled a bit as we strolled through the lovely villa grounds toward the museum, which houses unbelievable Bernini sculptures, gorgeous frescoes, and of course, some Caravaggios.
My favorite day was Day 2 in Rome. We spent the morning in St. Peter's Basilica, which was breathtaking. The entire basilica was designed with some ingenious optical illusions that are actually meant to make it look smaller than it is. It is for this reason that any picture you've ever seen of the interior simply cannot do it justice. For example, there is a tiny gold ribbon running along the top of the interior with some "best of" quotes by St. Peter. Once you learn that each black letter on the gold ribbon is actually 7 feet tall, you can start to get a sense of the actual size of this place. We followed the visit with a fantastic lunch at a little market. I'm starting to really enjoy this type of eatery because instead of trying (futily) to translate a menu, I can just point at something that looks delicious and smile. We ended up with salmon pasta salad, polenta in spinach cream sauce, meatballs, and a big old hunk of italian bread with cheese. My mouth still waters thinking about this random mish-mash of a picnic...
That afternoon we went to the Vatican museum, which was predictably clogged up with giant tour groups, but was a great experience nonetheless. Perhaps my favorite part of the day, however, was the evening. We had planned a night walk across Rome to see some of the famous piazzas and other outdoor attractions. And of course, it rained. I would like to remind you that Rome gets an average of one evening of rainfall per month in the summer. I guess we're just lucky? Anyway, we decided the show must go on, so we purchased sketchy umbrellas from a sketchy guy on the street and started our stroll. Anyone who has ever slipped on a slick curb wearing flip flops in the rain can picture the scene as we tried walking along Rome's cobblestone streets. As it turns out, the rain was a blessing in disguise. It was barely sprinkling, but it was enough to send most other not-so-brave tourist running for the hills. Who else can say they got the Trevi fountain completely to themselves on a summer evening??
During the rest of our stay in Rome, we also saw the Colosseum (of course), took a half day trip to a well-preserved ancient city called Ostia Antica (like a mini Pompeii without the volcano), checked out the Roman Forum, several more museums, the Pantheon (really incredible), and saw some gorgeous churches.
Our final meal in Rome was one that we will never forget. I'd like to say it was a romantic, delicious meal, but that would be a lie. We had intentions to check out a small restaurant recommended by our guidebook, but it was closed for the owners' three week vacation (not an uncommon thing in Italy). Instead, we got sucked into what we should have guessed was a tourist-trap restaurant -- something that our guidebook strongly recommends against. We thought, how bad can it be? The food looks good and not too expensive. So we sat down and order some food, which was indeed, quite tasty. It wasn't until I asked for the bill that we realized we'd been had. They sent out the muscular Roman owner, who crouched over our table and hand-wrote a completely illegible list of "charges" on our bill. I had the courage to ask what one of them was for, and he said, "You sit at my table, you pay this fee". Then, he informed us sternly that his services were NOT included in the price, took one step back from the table, folded his arms and waited for us to pay. Fearing for our lives, we paid the sketchy bill, left a generous tip (despite Italy's no-tipping norm), and ran. It's amazing how right it feels to pay 50 euros for 25 euros worth of food when you feel like you're going to be squashed by somebody. So yes, lesson learned. Ask about ALL charges and fees before you sit down. Otherwise, they can charge you for wearing a blue shirt and you can't say boo about it.
Ah well, you win some, you (really, really) lose some.
On to Florence!
Monday, August 2, 2010
...and Padova too!
Casey did a great job recapping Venice, but I wanted to add that we spent much of that part of our trip in a little city called Padova about 40 minutes to the west. Some of you may have heard of Padua -- this is, in fact the same city, so you can close your atlas. We were so so so lucky to have Elisa DiGiorgio (who still uses her CHB lanyard for her keys, FYI) host us at her lovely apartment. Our first day in Padova was a little walking tour. As Elisa put it, you can see everything there is to see in just about one hour. But what a lovely hour it was. The evening was capped with my first authentic gelato snack on the steps of a beautiful piazza. The experience was marred only by a brief encounter with an elderly Italian man on a bicyle who insisted on telling us the entire history of the city in Italian (despite our repeated attempts at "Io non capisco" (I do not understand) and "Parlo solo inglese" (I only speak English). Elisa also arranged some hang-out sessions for the evenings with some of her close friends from her PhD program. One of MY favorite parts was when one friend brought out his guitar. It turns out Italians love some American music, but often cannot understand the words so they just sort of guess at it phonetically. A great time was had by all.
So this post is dedicated to Elisa for showing us a GREAT time in her quaint, cobblestoned city, giving us real beds to sleep in, feeding us delicious food (if you've never tried stracciatella, go to your local Italian market and buy it!), and of course, offering us a shower in which we did not feel obligated to wear shower shoes. GRAZIE!!
After Padova/Venice we took a super fancy high speed train to Rome where we spent the last four days having a marvelous time. However the spacebar on this computer barely works and my thumb needs a break, so an update on our escapades in ancient Roma will need to wait...
So this post is dedicated to Elisa for showing us a GREAT time in her quaint, cobblestoned city, giving us real beds to sleep in, feeding us delicious food (if you've never tried stracciatella, go to your local Italian market and buy it!), and of course, offering us a shower in which we did not feel obligated to wear shower shoes. GRAZIE!!
After Padova/Venice we took a super fancy high speed train to Rome where we spent the last four days having a marvelous time. However the spacebar on this computer barely works and my thumb needs a break, so an update on our escapades in ancient Roma will need to wait...
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