=============
Monday 19 April
===========
Prague . . .
First thing I try to do is to get my train ticket to Berlin. So I know the times. And it is paid for. They want Czech krowns. OK, so I look for a cash machine. Try to figure out how much I might need for the week. Then I make a withdrawal. Go back to the train ticket window, and they want practically all my bills for the ticket. OK, so I slipped a decimal or two. So a 1000 krown bill is only worth 30 euro (25 dollars).
So I get my train ticket just fine. And then head for the subway. The ticket for this is 8 krown. Seems like nothing.
On the subway, most people are sitting and quietly reading. Quite a different scene than Italian subways.
I find my place to stay just fine. I had reserved and paid in advance in Vienna through a shared reservation system. This is a busy place with lots of foreign visitors.
I meet Lawry, an Irish guy living in Scotland. Kevin, from Seoul, South Korea. A group from Denmark - Dorthe from Esbierg, Annette from Odense, and Belinda from Vejle.
Then for dinner, I just go next door. Downstairs. Ask the waitress for Czech food. She points her recommendations. I point my decision. I get a stuffed pork chop. And half a liter of local pilsner. The cost of the beer is equivalent to 75 cents. No wonder the per capita consumption here averages 1 liter per person per day.
The pork chop comes stuffed with fresh smoked bacon. And with cabbage, grilled onions, and potatoes that are in the shape of mushrooms. This could be the best dinner of the entire trip.
There is extra room at my table, so 5 guys from Amsterdam (Holland - Netherlands) join me. Turns out their tradition is to take a week long trip together each year - to a different European city. Next year Lisbon? Their favorite so far is Istanbul. So that makes my list. Stories from David and Janis prepared the way too.
Dessert is blueberries (maybe some blackberries too) with small thick round pancakes, with chocolate, whiskey, and caramel sauces. And whipped cream. This seems Czech to me. This is worth the trip. A good way to end the day!
Nite nite.
=============
A fool's journey
Friday, April 30, 2004
Thursday, April 29, 2004
=============
Monday 19 April
==========
Vienna to Prague . . .
Sunny and warm. Turns out I am going the same direction as Aaron from Prague (as an exchange student from Berkeley). He is wanting to extend for another 6 months. He gives me the run down on my essential Czech words and numbers. Thanks Aaron.
Flat farm land. Trip takes about 5 hours. Deciduous trees here. Makes it look like the Eastern US. Except there it is hillier.
Things look old here. The trains. The infrastructure. A hold over from communist times and practices perhaps. Even the graffiti is old. Faded and peeling. Perhaps there is less of a reason to spray now?
There are stone barns. May be hundreds of years old. I see some deer. And a ring-necked pheasant. And now some evergreen trees.
The train tracks are getting better as we get closer to Prague. They are even rebuilding the roadbed in places. Putting in concrete ties. And updating the stations. Seems like a bee hive of activity. So something is working here. Where the economy is generating funds for public works like this.
It starts to rain now. And the trees are starting to leaf out here.
Well, I get to Prague just fine.
While trying to get oriented, I realize, this is my third language, and my third currency.
More adventures in store for sure.
==========================
Monday 19 April
==========
Vienna to Prague . . .
Sunny and warm. Turns out I am going the same direction as Aaron from Prague (as an exchange student from Berkeley). He is wanting to extend for another 6 months. He gives me the run down on my essential Czech words and numbers. Thanks Aaron.
Flat farm land. Trip takes about 5 hours. Deciduous trees here. Makes it look like the Eastern US. Except there it is hillier.
Things look old here. The trains. The infrastructure. A hold over from communist times and practices perhaps. Even the graffiti is old. Faded and peeling. Perhaps there is less of a reason to spray now?
There are stone barns. May be hundreds of years old. I see some deer. And a ring-necked pheasant. And now some evergreen trees.
The train tracks are getting better as we get closer to Prague. They are even rebuilding the roadbed in places. Putting in concrete ties. And updating the stations. Seems like a bee hive of activity. So something is working here. Where the economy is generating funds for public works like this.
It starts to rain now. And the trees are starting to leaf out here.
Well, I get to Prague just fine.
While trying to get oriented, I realize, this is my third language, and my third currency.
More adventures in store for sure.
==========================
==============
Sunday 18 April
==========
Vienna . . .
Cool and quiet. Sunny.
Go to the Treasury - where they have all the jewels and vestments. The most impressive I have seen. One of the vestments for a coronation took 10 years to make. It almost looks new. Well taken care of, and good thing too.
My favorite jewelry has opals and emeralds. And there are some big emeralds here. One is the size of a small fist.
Go to the lower Belvedere - see the baroque and medieval stuff, including things that were used by the order of the golden fleece - a secret society of knights. I think they had something to do with the crusades.
An area is excavated. We can look down and see first and fourth century Roman walls. About 15 feet down. So here too, the ground has gradually risen over the centuries. In addition, there are drainage canals, and structures that show the under floor heating system in the homes.
Gelato flavors today are mandarin and grapefruit.
Walk through the city gardens. It is a nice day. There is an outfit called city bike. They rent bikes. Self-service. Put in your credit card, and a bike gets released. Looks like there are many return locations about town.
Well, Pasifal calls. Starting time is 5 pm. Early, since it is long - 5 hours. I go check it out. Yes, they have tickets. So what the heck. Might as well see a Wagner opera too. It turns out to be a fitting story. Since in the museum today, I saw the head of the holy spear in a requliary, the one that pierced Jesus on the cross. Parsifal was wounded in battle and cannot heal. He needs the holy spear to heal him before he can die. I wonder if this somehow has a parallel in politics right now - with leaders who are wounded and seeking a way to heal - themselves and the world. There is something here in this Parsifal story.
I met a father who had a son in the Vienna Boys Choir. 10 years ago. He sang and traveled from when he was 9 until 13. Singing was paramount. Education was secondary.
The music was great in this show. Dramatic. A fellow next to me had the entire score, and he followed along reading the music during the entire performance.
So after a long show, again I head home for rest. Sleep. To dreams with music, wounds, and magical times.
Nite, nite.
===================
Sunday 18 April
==========
Vienna . . .
Cool and quiet. Sunny.
Go to the Treasury - where they have all the jewels and vestments. The most impressive I have seen. One of the vestments for a coronation took 10 years to make. It almost looks new. Well taken care of, and good thing too.
My favorite jewelry has opals and emeralds. And there are some big emeralds here. One is the size of a small fist.
Go to the lower Belvedere - see the baroque and medieval stuff, including things that were used by the order of the golden fleece - a secret society of knights. I think they had something to do with the crusades.
An area is excavated. We can look down and see first and fourth century Roman walls. About 15 feet down. So here too, the ground has gradually risen over the centuries. In addition, there are drainage canals, and structures that show the under floor heating system in the homes.
Gelato flavors today are mandarin and grapefruit.
Walk through the city gardens. It is a nice day. There is an outfit called city bike. They rent bikes. Self-service. Put in your credit card, and a bike gets released. Looks like there are many return locations about town.
Well, Pasifal calls. Starting time is 5 pm. Early, since it is long - 5 hours. I go check it out. Yes, they have tickets. So what the heck. Might as well see a Wagner opera too. It turns out to be a fitting story. Since in the museum today, I saw the head of the holy spear in a requliary, the one that pierced Jesus on the cross. Parsifal was wounded in battle and cannot heal. He needs the holy spear to heal him before he can die. I wonder if this somehow has a parallel in politics right now - with leaders who are wounded and seeking a way to heal - themselves and the world. There is something here in this Parsifal story.
I met a father who had a son in the Vienna Boys Choir. 10 years ago. He sang and traveled from when he was 9 until 13. Singing was paramount. Education was secondary.
The music was great in this show. Dramatic. A fellow next to me had the entire score, and he followed along reading the music during the entire performance.
So after a long show, again I head home for rest. Sleep. To dreams with music, wounds, and magical times.
Nite, nite.
===================
=================
Saturday May 17 (continued)
===========
I had to bail on my last post. Internet cafe is going to open a non-smoking room in two weeks. When I started, there were no smokers. Then three lit up. So I left. The guy was nice about it and gave me a refund.
It is cloudy, cool, and breezy. First stop . . . Ephesos Museum. This was a civilization from 300 to 100 BC. They have quite an armor collection too. Austrians made beautiful armor. Intricate design work.
In town, there are fountains, cobble stones, horses and carriages, statues, domes, and spires. This is Vienna. There are even buskers with violins and violas.
St Peter's has an elliptical dome (not round). And carved wooden pews.
St Stephen's has gothic arches, and I am lucky to be there during on organ demonstration for some school kids. Really fills the place up with sound.
Then Belvedere Museum. Three must sees here! Wow. Two Klimt paintings (one portrait with a pink dress - an earlier work, the other is Judith with Holoferens). And the third for me is Renoir. Makes it a great day.
So I figure, why not try to get into the opera. I got in line after 6 pm, after the museums closed. For a 7 pm show. I got a ticket. For Aida (thinking of you Steve). And there were only 12 sold after me. So that was close. But what better way? I got a ticket. And I didn't have to wait in line but 15 minutes.
I am not in the balcony area, but on the side. This is a great view down onto the stage and into the orchestra pit. The choreography is great. Didn't expect there to be dance too. Music is great. Good old Verdi. I remember finding his memorial in Milano. So it seems fitting to go to one of his operas.
I don't understand the words (sung in Italian). But they do have subtitles on little screens. Press a button and the language changes (Italian, German, English, etc).
Then home to bed.
Nite nite. Sleep to the memory of the music.
==============================
Saturday May 17 (continued)
===========
I had to bail on my last post. Internet cafe is going to open a non-smoking room in two weeks. When I started, there were no smokers. Then three lit up. So I left. The guy was nice about it and gave me a refund.
It is cloudy, cool, and breezy. First stop . . . Ephesos Museum. This was a civilization from 300 to 100 BC. They have quite an armor collection too. Austrians made beautiful armor. Intricate design work.
In town, there are fountains, cobble stones, horses and carriages, statues, domes, and spires. This is Vienna. There are even buskers with violins and violas.
St Peter's has an elliptical dome (not round). And carved wooden pews.
St Stephen's has gothic arches, and I am lucky to be there during on organ demonstration for some school kids. Really fills the place up with sound.
Then Belvedere Museum. Three must sees here! Wow. Two Klimt paintings (one portrait with a pink dress - an earlier work, the other is Judith with Holoferens). And the third for me is Renoir. Makes it a great day.
So I figure, why not try to get into the opera. I got in line after 6 pm, after the museums closed. For a 7 pm show. I got a ticket. For Aida (thinking of you Steve). And there were only 12 sold after me. So that was close. But what better way? I got a ticket. And I didn't have to wait in line but 15 minutes.
I am not in the balcony area, but on the side. This is a great view down onto the stage and into the orchestra pit. The choreography is great. Didn't expect there to be dance too. Music is great. Good old Verdi. I remember finding his memorial in Milano. So it seems fitting to go to one of his operas.
I don't understand the words (sung in Italian). But they do have subtitles on little screens. Press a button and the language changes (Italian, German, English, etc).
Then home to bed.
Nite nite. Sleep to the memory of the music.
==============================
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
==============
Saturday 17 April
============
Vienna . . .
Well, yesterday was a lot of orientation walking. I got a good night´s sleep. See what today brings.
I did go to the opera for tickets yesterday. The guidebook says try the day before for half price tickets. None available. Too popular a show, and on a busy night (Saturday show). So perhaps I will try tonight for a "stehplatz" ticket - standing room only. They go on sale 80 minutes beforether show.
=======================
Saturday 17 April
============
Vienna . . .
Well, yesterday was a lot of orientation walking. I got a good night´s sleep. See what today brings.
I did go to the opera for tickets yesterday. The guidebook says try the day before for half price tickets. None available. Too popular a show, and on a busy night (Saturday show). So perhaps I will try tonight for a "stehplatz" ticket - standing room only. They go on sale 80 minutes beforether show.
=======================
Monday, April 26, 2004
===========
Friday 16 April
=========
Vienna . . .
Wake up, and my right eye is pink. Maybe the smoke is bothering my eyes. Bothersome and a bit troubling. It's one thing to not tolerate smoke very well. It is another to have my body react so much. So I will have to make an effort to avoid smoke.
Cool and cloudy today. Plan is to go to the opera today for tomorrow's show.
Got to see another cobblestone worker. He is working with smaller stones. He puts them together like a puzzle. They kind of locktougherr in place. He has to hunt through the pile to find one of the proper size. Once in a while, he has to chip one to the necessary size, when he can't find one.
Go visit the market area. It is very sedate compared to the Italian one, inFlorencee. Perhaps this has somewhat to do with it not being the day before Easter. But I suspect there is a big cultural difference too.
Go to the local Schloss - palace. Discover via apostcardd, that there is some Klimt work here in town at a gallery. So that goes on my list to see, as a top priority. And I find out from anotherpostcardd that I missed some Klimt in Munich at the Nue Pinakotek. I only went to the Alte Pinakotek. So I will have to get back there. Sometime.
I am early for dinner. 6 pm. So by being an early bird, it is non-smoking. I have a really German dish. I had to convince the waiter that I wanted it. It is a heart and lung ragu. With gnudle (potato dumpling). And then viener snitzel with potatoes. So viener is Austrian, not German!
I am less tolerant oftheh smoke. I have to clear out and skipdessertt, as other customers come and start to light up. Oh well, I do well getting my desserts at bakeries.
I am tired of not knowing the norms. Simple things like tips and taxes. Each country seems to have its own way. Here it seems that service is NOT included, but I have no idea how much to tip. So when in Vienna, I act like an American.
My dessert end up being gellato on the way home - mango, cheese (like cheese cake), and peach.
I am tired, cranky, and weary. Time for rest.
Nite nite.
==============
Friday 16 April
=========
Vienna . . .
Wake up, and my right eye is pink. Maybe the smoke is bothering my eyes. Bothersome and a bit troubling. It's one thing to not tolerate smoke very well. It is another to have my body react so much. So I will have to make an effort to avoid smoke.
Cool and cloudy today. Plan is to go to the opera today for tomorrow's show.
Got to see another cobblestone worker. He is working with smaller stones. He puts them together like a puzzle. They kind of locktougherr in place. He has to hunt through the pile to find one of the proper size. Once in a while, he has to chip one to the necessary size, when he can't find one.
Go visit the market area. It is very sedate compared to the Italian one, inFlorencee. Perhaps this has somewhat to do with it not being the day before Easter. But I suspect there is a big cultural difference too.
Go to the local Schloss - palace. Discover via apostcardd, that there is some Klimt work here in town at a gallery. So that goes on my list to see, as a top priority. And I find out from anotherpostcardd that I missed some Klimt in Munich at the Nue Pinakotek. I only went to the Alte Pinakotek. So I will have to get back there. Sometime.
I am early for dinner. 6 pm. So by being an early bird, it is non-smoking. I have a really German dish. I had to convince the waiter that I wanted it. It is a heart and lung ragu. With gnudle (potato dumpling). And then viener snitzel with potatoes. So viener is Austrian, not German!
I am less tolerant oftheh smoke. I have to clear out and skipdessertt, as other customers come and start to light up. Oh well, I do well getting my desserts at bakeries.
I am tired of not knowing the norms. Simple things like tips and taxes. Each country seems to have its own way. Here it seems that service is NOT included, but I have no idea how much to tip. So when in Vienna, I act like an American.
My dessert end up being gellato on the way home - mango, cheese (like cheese cake), and peach.
I am tired, cranky, and weary. Time for rest.
Nite nite.
==============
Friday, April 23, 2004
===========
Thursday 15 April
============
Vienna (Wien) . . .
Sunny and cool. Looks to be a warm day. My jacket goes back into my luggage bag. And I move my stuff over to my first choice accomodations. They let me keep my things there for teh day, befoer checking in.
I like the architecture here. Especially the fennestrations. It isn't overdone. It isn't too busy visually.
There are gardens and shrubs. Park like in many palces.
First stop - Kunsthistorisches (which I think translates to Art History Museum). I go to the Egyptian section first. There is stuff here from 2500 BC. I especially like the papyrus columns. Pinkinsh granite. Three of them are incorporated into the building structure. They are holding up the roof here. Very old, and stil useful.
The Greek & Roman section is closed. Something for next time. Also the sculpture section is closed. Something else for next time.
There are lots of paintings. My favorite is one by Furini. It has a gloamy dark blue background. Called "Madgelena". I am learning to make a note of these painters I have never heard of when I like one of their works. Then I have a better chance of finding more paintings by them, because I have a chance to recognize the name.
A big museum. It took me all day. I though they might kick me out at 6 pm. But it appears they have some special evening program. So I could stay longer. But I am done, and my feet are tired.
As I walk along the river, I see my first rat, running along the edge of the Danube River.
And I see a very small Polezia vehicle. It is a "Pulse". Even smaller than the Smart Car. No room for any prisoners.
I walk the old inner city loop. I happen upon the Opera House. The opera has already started. I check about tickets. Too late. The show is Parsifal and it started at 5 pm.
Well I am tired. So tired, I do not even remember what I did for dinner. I go to my new place. And I do not recall beyond that.
Nite nite. Out like a light?
===============
Thursday 15 April
============
Vienna (Wien) . . .
Sunny and cool. Looks to be a warm day. My jacket goes back into my luggage bag. And I move my stuff over to my first choice accomodations. They let me keep my things there for teh day, befoer checking in.
I like the architecture here. Especially the fennestrations. It isn't overdone. It isn't too busy visually.
There are gardens and shrubs. Park like in many palces.
First stop - Kunsthistorisches (which I think translates to Art History Museum). I go to the Egyptian section first. There is stuff here from 2500 BC. I especially like the papyrus columns. Pinkinsh granite. Three of them are incorporated into the building structure. They are holding up the roof here. Very old, and stil useful.
The Greek & Roman section is closed. Something for next time. Also the sculpture section is closed. Something else for next time.
There are lots of paintings. My favorite is one by Furini. It has a gloamy dark blue background. Called "Madgelena". I am learning to make a note of these painters I have never heard of when I like one of their works. Then I have a better chance of finding more paintings by them, because I have a chance to recognize the name.
A big museum. It took me all day. I though they might kick me out at 6 pm. But it appears they have some special evening program. So I could stay longer. But I am done, and my feet are tired.
As I walk along the river, I see my first rat, running along the edge of the Danube River.
And I see a very small Polezia vehicle. It is a "Pulse". Even smaller than the Smart Car. No room for any prisoners.
I walk the old inner city loop. I happen upon the Opera House. The opera has already started. I check about tickets. Too late. The show is Parsifal and it started at 5 pm.
Well I am tired. So tired, I do not even remember what I did for dinner. I go to my new place. And I do not recall beyond that.
Nite nite. Out like a light?
===============
============
Wedneday 14 April (continued)
============
Venice to Vienna . . .
The land is flat with hills in the background. There are vineyards all over the place.
Once we exit a long tuneel, we are in to snow covered mountains. Then things flatten out again pretty quickly.
There is no graffiti here. My body gives a visceral sigh of relief.
There are old hilltop walls. Now there are large homes perched up on these old castle sites.
We pass a meadow with a large herd of highlanders (cattle from Scotland).
As we pass through a town called Zeltwey, there are tanks out, with machine gunners atop, and all prepared to shoot. Don't know if it is an exercise. Or if there is something really going on.
There are planted flowers here. And dark bread, based upon what fellow passengers are eating.
There are evergreens on the hills. Looks like it could be southern Oregon with the mountains and trees, with a dry undercover. Like Grants Pass.
I get to Vienna just fine. I can'f figure out how to get the phones to work. Nowhere does it say how much to put in. At least these machines don't keep my money. I come to learn that most of the phones are inoperable. When working properly, there is a screen that displays how much money to insert.
I eventually just show up at my first choice. It is getting late - after 10 pm. They are full of course. I go ahead and reserve for the following nights. They let me use the phone to call some others. I say Grazie by mistake. Oops. Speak German now. No luck with my second and third choices. Time to do some more research.
I go figure out options four, five, and six. And I find a phone booth that works. Option five has room, and they are close by. I get directions and head that way.
I notice no one crosses the street here on the red do not walk light.
I find the place in no time. Check in. And then go to try and find dinner. It is getting too late. Kitchens are closing. I find a place that is still open for desert. I have the local traditional topfenstruedel - a strudel made with cheese - like across between cheese cake and riccotta cheese. It isn't too sweet. Nice and warm, spongy (not sticky like cheese cake).
Well it is late now. I find my way back home. And go to bed.
There is a new town to get to know and to explore tomorrow.
Nite nite.
=======================
Wedneday 14 April (continued)
============
Venice to Vienna . . .
The land is flat with hills in the background. There are vineyards all over the place.
Once we exit a long tuneel, we are in to snow covered mountains. Then things flatten out again pretty quickly.
There is no graffiti here. My body gives a visceral sigh of relief.
There are old hilltop walls. Now there are large homes perched up on these old castle sites.
We pass a meadow with a large herd of highlanders (cattle from Scotland).
As we pass through a town called Zeltwey, there are tanks out, with machine gunners atop, and all prepared to shoot. Don't know if it is an exercise. Or if there is something really going on.
There are planted flowers here. And dark bread, based upon what fellow passengers are eating.
There are evergreens on the hills. Looks like it could be southern Oregon with the mountains and trees, with a dry undercover. Like Grants Pass.
I get to Vienna just fine. I can'f figure out how to get the phones to work. Nowhere does it say how much to put in. At least these machines don't keep my money. I come to learn that most of the phones are inoperable. When working properly, there is a screen that displays how much money to insert.
I eventually just show up at my first choice. It is getting late - after 10 pm. They are full of course. I go ahead and reserve for the following nights. They let me use the phone to call some others. I say Grazie by mistake. Oops. Speak German now. No luck with my second and third choices. Time to do some more research.
I go figure out options four, five, and six. And I find a phone booth that works. Option five has room, and they are close by. I get directions and head that way.
I notice no one crosses the street here on the red do not walk light.
I find the place in no time. Check in. And then go to try and find dinner. It is getting too late. Kitchens are closing. I find a place that is still open for desert. I have the local traditional topfenstruedel - a strudel made with cheese - like across between cheese cake and riccotta cheese. It isn't too sweet. Nice and warm, spongy (not sticky like cheese cake).
Well it is late now. I find my way back home. And go to bed.
There is a new town to get to know and to explore tomorrow.
Nite nite.
=======================
=============
Wednesday 14 April
=============
Venice . . .
Cloudy and cool.
I decide to try to see St Marks Basilica before catching th etrain to Vienna. The first day, the line was way too long. And the other morning it wasn't yet open. INstrad of opening at 7:30 per some signs and my guide book, they are on reduced hours, and don't open until 9:00 or 9:30. I am hoping the crowds have thinned. I go wait in the baggage que. For about 30 minutes. Then they open that and start checking ruck sacks. I have all my luggage - ruck sack and hand bag - since I go from here to the train.
I luck out. I was expecting to have to go wait in the big long line to get into the church. But since I checked a bag, I got a pass, and got to go in directly. So it was a time saver to have a bag. I guess they do this so that those poor folks who wait in the big long line and then find out they have to check a bag don't then have to retuen to the end of the big long line. So I luck out, and get in right away.
Glad I made the effort. Lots to see.
The mosaics on the walls and ceilings have lots of gold. The floors are rolling mosaics too, made from pieces of marble that fit together perfectly. And by rolling, I mean not flat. The ground underneath is not that firm or stable. So the floor is resting on a thick liquid mud. The marble pieces on the surface move up and down according to pressures. It is like a puzzle that stays together eventhough the surface underneath is heaving and receeding.
I see many Byzantine treasures. Stolen. They are from the 8 through the 11 centuries. Impressive workmanship. Especially relative to what was going on in Europe at the same time.
And there is a stone chalice - Egyptian - from 400 BC. Stolen. And stolen again.
Also, 4th century cut glass - it is very dark purple. And first century rock crystal bowl. 9 inches high, by 12 inches across. The rock crystal is so pure, it looks like glass.
And then ther are relics. Teeth. Arm bones. The skull of St Jacob - a "minor apostle".
And of course St Mark. The sarcophogus says "corpvs divi marci evangelitae" Latin for the divine body of Mark the evangelist? From watching hte crods, it appears that over 75 percent of those going through here have no idea that here lies St Mark. I was wrong earlier. He was brought here (stolen) from Alexandria in 828.
It is the horses that were brought (stolen) from Constantinople. There are four of them. Copies were made and are on the church. I get to see the real ones conserved inside. They were stolen from the hippodrome in Constantinople during the 4th crusade (in 1204). They wer guilded. And the surface is all scrathed up on purpose - to reduce the reflection of light. They would be too bright otherwise.
They think these bronze statues originate from the first or second century. Roman in origin. So they are among the oldest intact bronze statues that exist.
Next stop is the the top of the Basilica. I visit the replica horses. Each is unique. Two turn to the right, and two turn to the left. And then each pair that is turning the same way has a different leg raised.
This is a nice view from the top of the basilica. Can see Venice and the surronding water, islands, and sights. Other than the view, for me, the floors were the best part. In particular, a spiral design, that looks like sunflower seeds still in the flower.
OK, I'm done. Off to the train station. By boat of course. On the way, I see the fire station. The fire boats are blue.
I get my train ticket. Have time for lunch (pizza). Fill up my water bottle (good Alpen water here in Venice). Sell my boat pass to an arriving German tourist - it is good for the rest of the day. And then Ciao Venice!
=============
Wednesday 14 April
=============
Venice . . .
Cloudy and cool.
I decide to try to see St Marks Basilica before catching th etrain to Vienna. The first day, the line was way too long. And the other morning it wasn't yet open. INstrad of opening at 7:30 per some signs and my guide book, they are on reduced hours, and don't open until 9:00 or 9:30. I am hoping the crowds have thinned. I go wait in the baggage que. For about 30 minutes. Then they open that and start checking ruck sacks. I have all my luggage - ruck sack and hand bag - since I go from here to the train.
I luck out. I was expecting to have to go wait in the big long line to get into the church. But since I checked a bag, I got a pass, and got to go in directly. So it was a time saver to have a bag. I guess they do this so that those poor folks who wait in the big long line and then find out they have to check a bag don't then have to retuen to the end of the big long line. So I luck out, and get in right away.
Glad I made the effort. Lots to see.
The mosaics on the walls and ceilings have lots of gold. The floors are rolling mosaics too, made from pieces of marble that fit together perfectly. And by rolling, I mean not flat. The ground underneath is not that firm or stable. So the floor is resting on a thick liquid mud. The marble pieces on the surface move up and down according to pressures. It is like a puzzle that stays together eventhough the surface underneath is heaving and receeding.
I see many Byzantine treasures. Stolen. They are from the 8 through the 11 centuries. Impressive workmanship. Especially relative to what was going on in Europe at the same time.
And there is a stone chalice - Egyptian - from 400 BC. Stolen. And stolen again.
Also, 4th century cut glass - it is very dark purple. And first century rock crystal bowl. 9 inches high, by 12 inches across. The rock crystal is so pure, it looks like glass.
And then ther are relics. Teeth. Arm bones. The skull of St Jacob - a "minor apostle".
And of course St Mark. The sarcophogus says "corpvs divi marci evangelitae" Latin for the divine body of Mark the evangelist? From watching hte crods, it appears that over 75 percent of those going through here have no idea that here lies St Mark. I was wrong earlier. He was brought here (stolen) from Alexandria in 828.
It is the horses that were brought (stolen) from Constantinople. There are four of them. Copies were made and are on the church. I get to see the real ones conserved inside. They were stolen from the hippodrome in Constantinople during the 4th crusade (in 1204). They wer guilded. And the surface is all scrathed up on purpose - to reduce the reflection of light. They would be too bright otherwise.
They think these bronze statues originate from the first or second century. Roman in origin. So they are among the oldest intact bronze statues that exist.
Next stop is the the top of the Basilica. I visit the replica horses. Each is unique. Two turn to the right, and two turn to the left. And then each pair that is turning the same way has a different leg raised.
This is a nice view from the top of the basilica. Can see Venice and the surronding water, islands, and sights. Other than the view, for me, the floors were the best part. In particular, a spiral design, that looks like sunflower seeds still in the flower.
OK, I'm done. Off to the train station. By boat of course. On the way, I see the fire station. The fire boats are blue.
I get my train ticket. Have time for lunch (pizza). Fill up my water bottle (good Alpen water here in Venice). Sell my boat pass to an arriving German tourist - it is good for the rest of the day. And then Ciao Venice!
=============
============
Tuesday 13 April
===========
Venice . . .
Raining. Get out my coat for the first time in Italy. I will likley need it for my planned water trip today. Going to some other islands.
First stop is the Academia Gallery. They have a painting from 1400 that shows a procession in St Mark's Piazza. It is recognizable today. It looks pretty much the same. This is impressive. Not only a building or two that is ols. But an entire plaza. 600 plus years.
Sweet treat time. Get an apple streudel like pastry. And then gelati - pistacio, cherry, and hazelnut. This pistacio is the best gelato I have had on the entire trip, including that from Florence (has the best reputation for gelato).
Next stop, Frari Church. I actuall walk to this one. Acroos some canal bridges. Get lost at least twice. Takes a couple of hours. Get see see lots of the less traveled parts of town. When I am lost, I try to keep an open mind, and notice things I am not seeking or looking for. A good purpose this being lost serves.
I eventually get there. There is lots of sculpture in place. And relics galore. And a wooden sculpture from 1438 by Donnatello. Is he the guy with the sculpture in Rotenburg?
Most impressive are the carved pews. Each is unique. May have been portraits of the people who sat there for church. Much inlay work too. This is from 1468. And it is in excellent shape. Pretty good for wood. And for something that ahs been used and useful all these years. As pews. Maybe they aren't using them now. But still, could have fooled me - they only look a 100 years old.
On the way to explore the fish market, I run across a sculpture shop. The owner was visiting from London 5 years ago. And decided to stay. Went home, resigned, and then came here and set up shop. She has large marble pieces. Hand carved. Says Burano is better to visit than Murano. So I shift my plan to go to Burano first.
Off to the market first. Vegatables and fish. Then I catch the boat to Burano. This is the town/island known for its lacework. Out on the water it is sunny and warm. Didn't need to bring my coat after all. Then we gwet outon the open water. And it is downright windy. Turns out I do need it.
Burano has a leaning tower too. This one is a square tower with a pointed top. One side has sunk down a foot. Then in the distance, I notice a second one. Leaning. So Burano is the town of two leaning lowers.
This is a cute town. All stucco, in bright pastel colors. Maybe this make it something other than pastel. Quite cheery.
I try an almond crucciti. It is like a biscotti, but softer. Mmm good. They know how to handle their almonds here.
Two young entrepreneurs have set up shop right by the boat stop. Spread their wares on a blanket. They are mostly childhood treasures. The kinds of things that would be a garage sales at home. When I ask how much something costs, they giggle. Whisper in each others' ears. Then they shuffle through a stack of price signs they made up, and show me the price.
I can't believe it. I get my first souvenir. And hopefully only. I am trying to stay light, so I have to be willing to get rid of something if I end up too heavy. And what I got is made of glass. Fragile. No sense whatsoever. Well, if I get home without any breakage, then I will carry some good memories. Instead of the traditional Murano glass, I have Burano glass.
The I take the boat to Murano. The place famous for glass blowing. The operations used to be in Venice. But the town got burned down once too often way back in 1500 or 1600, so the glass blowing operations were moved in their entirety to this Murano Island.
Glass is everywhere. There are even huge handblown galss chandeliers in the church.
The boats are quite slow, so by the time I get here to Murano, the shops are starting to close. So I am in town for not much more than an hour. Catch the boat back to Venice.
Along the waterfront in Vencie, we pass the depot for the ambulance boats. They are bright orange. Makes sense, since there are no roads for vehicles.
This captain is really good. His mate only ever uses 18 inches of rope to tie up. So the Captain gets the boat to the right spot. Time after time. Smooth too. The boat stops are floating docks.
Off to dinner upon arrival. The place is smoke free. A rare thing here. Much appreciated. I have to wait about 15 minutes for a table. Dinner is sardines with polenta, pasta with squid and a squid ink sauce, and fresh salmon with mushrooms and pumpkin. I am full full.
So on the they home, what do I do? Gelato of course. I get pineapple, rum rasin, and licorice. The pineapple is quite refreshing. Gets rid of that full feeling. Maybe this is why gelato is popular here. Settles the stomach. Especially after pasta.
I get to the right boat stop just fine. When I board, I confirm with the rope guy that it goes to my desired dtop. He says Si, Si. Well, we get to the end of the line and we stil haven't looped across the lagoon to the island where I am staying. I ask about my stop. He says sorry, have to transfer way back when. We are headed back that way. So I take a long boat ride home.
Spent a lot of the day on the water. Sea legs are doing just fine. When I get back onto tierra firma, I still feel the waves. So I am rocked to sleep.
Nite nite.
==============
Tuesday 13 April
===========
Venice . . .
Raining. Get out my coat for the first time in Italy. I will likley need it for my planned water trip today. Going to some other islands.
First stop is the Academia Gallery. They have a painting from 1400 that shows a procession in St Mark's Piazza. It is recognizable today. It looks pretty much the same. This is impressive. Not only a building or two that is ols. But an entire plaza. 600 plus years.
Sweet treat time. Get an apple streudel like pastry. And then gelati - pistacio, cherry, and hazelnut. This pistacio is the best gelato I have had on the entire trip, including that from Florence (has the best reputation for gelato).
Next stop, Frari Church. I actuall walk to this one. Acroos some canal bridges. Get lost at least twice. Takes a couple of hours. Get see see lots of the less traveled parts of town. When I am lost, I try to keep an open mind, and notice things I am not seeking or looking for. A good purpose this being lost serves.
I eventually get there. There is lots of sculpture in place. And relics galore. And a wooden sculpture from 1438 by Donnatello. Is he the guy with the sculpture in Rotenburg?
Most impressive are the carved pews. Each is unique. May have been portraits of the people who sat there for church. Much inlay work too. This is from 1468. And it is in excellent shape. Pretty good for wood. And for something that ahs been used and useful all these years. As pews. Maybe they aren't using them now. But still, could have fooled me - they only look a 100 years old.
On the way to explore the fish market, I run across a sculpture shop. The owner was visiting from London 5 years ago. And decided to stay. Went home, resigned, and then came here and set up shop. She has large marble pieces. Hand carved. Says Burano is better to visit than Murano. So I shift my plan to go to Burano first.
Off to the market first. Vegatables and fish. Then I catch the boat to Burano. This is the town/island known for its lacework. Out on the water it is sunny and warm. Didn't need to bring my coat after all. Then we gwet outon the open water. And it is downright windy. Turns out I do need it.
Burano has a leaning tower too. This one is a square tower with a pointed top. One side has sunk down a foot. Then in the distance, I notice a second one. Leaning. So Burano is the town of two leaning lowers.
This is a cute town. All stucco, in bright pastel colors. Maybe this make it something other than pastel. Quite cheery.
I try an almond crucciti. It is like a biscotti, but softer. Mmm good. They know how to handle their almonds here.
Two young entrepreneurs have set up shop right by the boat stop. Spread their wares on a blanket. They are mostly childhood treasures. The kinds of things that would be a garage sales at home. When I ask how much something costs, they giggle. Whisper in each others' ears. Then they shuffle through a stack of price signs they made up, and show me the price.
I can't believe it. I get my first souvenir. And hopefully only. I am trying to stay light, so I have to be willing to get rid of something if I end up too heavy. And what I got is made of glass. Fragile. No sense whatsoever. Well, if I get home without any breakage, then I will carry some good memories. Instead of the traditional Murano glass, I have Burano glass.
The I take the boat to Murano. The place famous for glass blowing. The operations used to be in Venice. But the town got burned down once too often way back in 1500 or 1600, so the glass blowing operations were moved in their entirety to this Murano Island.
Glass is everywhere. There are even huge handblown galss chandeliers in the church.
The boats are quite slow, so by the time I get here to Murano, the shops are starting to close. So I am in town for not much more than an hour. Catch the boat back to Venice.
Along the waterfront in Vencie, we pass the depot for the ambulance boats. They are bright orange. Makes sense, since there are no roads for vehicles.
This captain is really good. His mate only ever uses 18 inches of rope to tie up. So the Captain gets the boat to the right spot. Time after time. Smooth too. The boat stops are floating docks.
Off to dinner upon arrival. The place is smoke free. A rare thing here. Much appreciated. I have to wait about 15 minutes for a table. Dinner is sardines with polenta, pasta with squid and a squid ink sauce, and fresh salmon with mushrooms and pumpkin. I am full full.
So on the they home, what do I do? Gelato of course. I get pineapple, rum rasin, and licorice. The pineapple is quite refreshing. Gets rid of that full feeling. Maybe this is why gelato is popular here. Settles the stomach. Especially after pasta.
I get to the right boat stop just fine. When I board, I confirm with the rope guy that it goes to my desired dtop. He says Si, Si. Well, we get to the end of the line and we stil haven't looped across the lagoon to the island where I am staying. I ask about my stop. He says sorry, have to transfer way back when. We are headed back that way. So I take a long boat ride home.
Spent a lot of the day on the water. Sea legs are doing just fine. When I get back onto tierra firma, I still feel the waves. So I am rocked to sleep.
Nite nite.
==============
============
Monday 12 April
===========
Venice (Venizia) . . .
Cool today. Windy on the water. Clear skies. Things look better in the morning. After a rest.
Go to Ducal Palace. This system of government lasted quite a long time. And it had popular support. It was stable, enduring, and popular. The rulers nurtured the myth of the Ducal system and its powers. This was great public relations. People gave the attributed magical powers or luck to the system. Those in power tapped in to the symbolic and archtypal aspects of itself. It gave the public much confidence.
The eventual decline came because of economics I think. The power shifted away from this crossroads of trade routes.
In the palace, there is a solid stone panel. It is on a pivot rod. So by pushing on one side, it rotates. Kind of a hidden passageway behind it. No castle should be without one.
It is strange to see life sized statues standing atop the spires here.
St Mark was chosen as the patron saint, because of his independence from Rome and the Vatican. The Venetians didn't want to concede any power to the Holy See. They stole his bones from somehwre - Constantinople. And brought them to Venice. Thus St marks is here as a monument to St Mark, whose remains are under the church. He has been quite a draw over the centuries. And continues to be.
Venice chose the lion as a symbol for the city. Because the lion is associated with St Mark. More of that symbolism.
Lots of Veronese work here in the Museum. So that wish has come true. Also big swords, armor, and arrows galore.
The best part of the palace tour is the dungeons. It is fun to be down there. Can imagine the clanking of chains. The dungeon was right below the court. So when the court verdict was made and the sentence was given, it could be carried out right away. Down down you go. The dungeon is right below the courts.
I hop on a boat and ride down the Grand Canal. It is obvious the water is rising. Steps are under water. Patios are covered with sea weed. Walls are crumbling. Appears to be in slow decay. But given the age of things here (some at 100 years old), slow may take centuries more. In time, the first floor will become the ground floor (meaning the first floor up will become the entry ground level). Here, the first floor (piano) means up one floor.
Somewhere I see a great sculpture - by Antonio Gai (1689 to 1769). A piece called Fede; Fortessa. It is of a figure with a light veil over the face. Someone to track down. I like the pieces where the imagination has to fill in some of the form.
Guggenheim Museum is next. Heiress Peggy retired here. And her art collection remains. There is a temporary exhibit of old drawings. They are borrowed from Vienaa. So I won't miss them when I go there next stop.
Then the rest is quite a shock. I haven't seen any modern pieces for most all of this trip. Things like Jackson Pollack.
Lots and lots of shops here. For the tourists. At least some of them are selling art. And then there are all the guys on the corner selling imitation hand bags (Versache? No Lious Vitton - somethng like that). They too scatter upon seeing anyone in authority.
Took a boat ride home. Have dinner on my side of the lagoon.
Rain on the roof puts me to sleep. Like at home.
Nite nite.
==============
Monday 12 April
===========
Venice (Venizia) . . .
Cool today. Windy on the water. Clear skies. Things look better in the morning. After a rest.
Go to Ducal Palace. This system of government lasted quite a long time. And it had popular support. It was stable, enduring, and popular. The rulers nurtured the myth of the Ducal system and its powers. This was great public relations. People gave the attributed magical powers or luck to the system. Those in power tapped in to the symbolic and archtypal aspects of itself. It gave the public much confidence.
The eventual decline came because of economics I think. The power shifted away from this crossroads of trade routes.
In the palace, there is a solid stone panel. It is on a pivot rod. So by pushing on one side, it rotates. Kind of a hidden passageway behind it. No castle should be without one.
It is strange to see life sized statues standing atop the spires here.
St Mark was chosen as the patron saint, because of his independence from Rome and the Vatican. The Venetians didn't want to concede any power to the Holy See. They stole his bones from somehwre - Constantinople. And brought them to Venice. Thus St marks is here as a monument to St Mark, whose remains are under the church. He has been quite a draw over the centuries. And continues to be.
Venice chose the lion as a symbol for the city. Because the lion is associated with St Mark. More of that symbolism.
Lots of Veronese work here in the Museum. So that wish has come true. Also big swords, armor, and arrows galore.
The best part of the palace tour is the dungeons. It is fun to be down there. Can imagine the clanking of chains. The dungeon was right below the court. So when the court verdict was made and the sentence was given, it could be carried out right away. Down down you go. The dungeon is right below the courts.
I hop on a boat and ride down the Grand Canal. It is obvious the water is rising. Steps are under water. Patios are covered with sea weed. Walls are crumbling. Appears to be in slow decay. But given the age of things here (some at 100 years old), slow may take centuries more. In time, the first floor will become the ground floor (meaning the first floor up will become the entry ground level). Here, the first floor (piano) means up one floor.
Somewhere I see a great sculpture - by Antonio Gai (1689 to 1769). A piece called Fede; Fortessa. It is of a figure with a light veil over the face. Someone to track down. I like the pieces where the imagination has to fill in some of the form.
Guggenheim Museum is next. Heiress Peggy retired here. And her art collection remains. There is a temporary exhibit of old drawings. They are borrowed from Vienaa. So I won't miss them when I go there next stop.
Then the rest is quite a shock. I haven't seen any modern pieces for most all of this trip. Things like Jackson Pollack.
Lots and lots of shops here. For the tourists. At least some of them are selling art. And then there are all the guys on the corner selling imitation hand bags (Versache? No Lious Vitton - somethng like that). They too scatter upon seeing anyone in authority.
Took a boat ride home. Have dinner on my side of the lagoon.
Rain on the roof puts me to sleep. Like at home.
Nite nite.
==============
=============
Easter Sunday 11 April
===============
Florence (Firenze) . . .
Clear cool and sunny today. No wonder to sky was so beautiful last night. It was clear and deep. So that deep deep blue was visible.
The surrounding terrain is flat with hills in the background. Lots of land being farmed. Looks nice.
I decide that with all the crowds here, perhaps during the day would be a good time to make my move. Before everyone tries heads for home. Monday is a holiday too. Hope I can find a place to stay. Head for Venice. The train ride seems quick.
Venice looks like Willemstaad (Netherlands Antillies). Pastel building lining the water.
My first choice accomodation is booked. 2nd chice, no answer. Not a good sign. I go there anyway. On a boat. From the train station. They have a room for me. For three nights anyway. That will be fine. Perhaps another night will free up for me, if I need.
I drop my bag in the room and head for town. Across the logoon. Another boat ride. The water is a nice pastel green clor. A touch of milkyness. Very calming.
Glass shops galore. And mask shops. Carnivale is a big thing here. Carries over to souvenirs for the rest of the year. The glass shops are no longer in Venice, as fire prevention. But there wares are in abundance.
The gondoliers PUSH the boats along. Rowing is a pull. The gondlier power stroke is a push. And the lean and walk into the stroke. Some have a little platform on the back of the boat to give them a longer walkway to push from.
First sight - Correr Museum. The Ballroom is huge. An old palace here. Two scuplures are temporarily exhibited elsewhere. Oh well. I do see a 1200 year old coin! And there are some good old sculptures here. From 300 BC. And a bunch of Egyptian things from 1300 BC. These are part of the palace collection. This place used to be the center of world commercial power. Back in 1200. So these art treasures gravitated here.
Well, that's enough sights for me. I am tired out. And hungry. The main square is huge. With high four story buildings. And this place is more crowded than Florence. Many French tourists. The most I have seen anywhere.
It is damp and cool here. Must get humid in the summer.
I go to a pizza shop. No room for me. Need reservations. Since I see empty seats, I wonder if this is a password or currency situation. Or mabe I am looking too rough around the edges? Who ever heard of a snobby pizza place?
Did I mention that there is a leaning tower here too. In the back ground. Not leaning as far over as the Pisa tower. But for sure leaning.
I find a better place. And have pizza with artichoke hearts. On the wander home (to the boat), I see a crowd heading into a church. I get in line. They are going to a sold out concert. At San Vidal Church. I get a peek inside. Wow! The front altar sculpture is superb! Who did this? I try to ask. I try to find out if there is a sign indication the sculptor. No such luck. Or at leat per the level of my communication. So I hope to find out who eventually.
Almond tart for desert. I get my 72-hour pass for the boats. So I can hop on and off at my convenience. And I stock up on more oranges. And take a boat ride home.
A tired and weary traveler.
Nite nite.
=============
Easter Sunday 11 April
===============
Florence (Firenze) . . .
Clear cool and sunny today. No wonder to sky was so beautiful last night. It was clear and deep. So that deep deep blue was visible.
The surrounding terrain is flat with hills in the background. Lots of land being farmed. Looks nice.
I decide that with all the crowds here, perhaps during the day would be a good time to make my move. Before everyone tries heads for home. Monday is a holiday too. Hope I can find a place to stay. Head for Venice. The train ride seems quick.
Venice looks like Willemstaad (Netherlands Antillies). Pastel building lining the water.
My first choice accomodation is booked. 2nd chice, no answer. Not a good sign. I go there anyway. On a boat. From the train station. They have a room for me. For three nights anyway. That will be fine. Perhaps another night will free up for me, if I need.
I drop my bag in the room and head for town. Across the logoon. Another boat ride. The water is a nice pastel green clor. A touch of milkyness. Very calming.
Glass shops galore. And mask shops. Carnivale is a big thing here. Carries over to souvenirs for the rest of the year. The glass shops are no longer in Venice, as fire prevention. But there wares are in abundance.
The gondoliers PUSH the boats along. Rowing is a pull. The gondlier power stroke is a push. And the lean and walk into the stroke. Some have a little platform on the back of the boat to give them a longer walkway to push from.
First sight - Correr Museum. The Ballroom is huge. An old palace here. Two scuplures are temporarily exhibited elsewhere. Oh well. I do see a 1200 year old coin! And there are some good old sculptures here. From 300 BC. And a bunch of Egyptian things from 1300 BC. These are part of the palace collection. This place used to be the center of world commercial power. Back in 1200. So these art treasures gravitated here.
Well, that's enough sights for me. I am tired out. And hungry. The main square is huge. With high four story buildings. And this place is more crowded than Florence. Many French tourists. The most I have seen anywhere.
It is damp and cool here. Must get humid in the summer.
I go to a pizza shop. No room for me. Need reservations. Since I see empty seats, I wonder if this is a password or currency situation. Or mabe I am looking too rough around the edges? Who ever heard of a snobby pizza place?
Did I mention that there is a leaning tower here too. In the back ground. Not leaning as far over as the Pisa tower. But for sure leaning.
I find a better place. And have pizza with artichoke hearts. On the wander home (to the boat), I see a crowd heading into a church. I get in line. They are going to a sold out concert. At San Vidal Church. I get a peek inside. Wow! The front altar sculpture is superb! Who did this? I try to ask. I try to find out if there is a sign indication the sculptor. No such luck. Or at leat per the level of my communication. So I hope to find out who eventually.
Almond tart for desert. I get my 72-hour pass for the boats. So I can hop on and off at my convenience. And I stock up on more oranges. And take a boat ride home.
A tired and weary traveler.
Nite nite.
=============
============
Saturday 10 April
===========
Florence (Firenze) . . .
Yesterday was a good Friday. I have one more sight I want to see. And then I will experience the Eastrer crush here. It is much moer crowded than my prior visit. Streets are packed.
It is sunny and cool.
At the bakery just down the street, I find some nice traditional Easter buns. Get some of those. And a couple of sanwiches for lunch. And some Sicilian oranges from the fruit stand.
Go to the precios stones museum. Isn't jewels. But inlaid marble artwork. The pictures look like paintings. Someone cut put each piece and fit it all together. Shading in the marble was achieved by selective heat treating. There are some big brass door knockers here. Don't get to touch them. And a fireplace mantle made out of malchite (the green grainy semi-precious gem stone).
Most impressive are the tables. Set into black marble. The deep blues glow. And some of the marble slices are cut so thin that you can see into the stone. Gives a three dimensional feel.
It is such a nice day, I need sunglasses upon exiting. I wander off and find the fish market. It was recommended to me as entertaining. It is extra busy. Crammed with pre-Easter shoppers. In addition to fish, there is every kind of meat imaginable hanging. And upstairs is the fruit and vegatables.
People order what they want. And the fish monger guts it right there and cuts it up the way they want. In the case of the meats, the butcher cuts off the parts they want. In one case, the heads, split right there with a big cleaver. Someone else orders lungs, liver and kidneys. Someone else tongue.
No packaging here. Straight from the butcher to the hands of the consumer.
There is quite a bit of banter one of the fish counters. And some haggling. At one counter, one of the mongers was clearly enjoying himself. He would prepare the fish, and then have his co-worker weight it and wrap it up. And give the price. The fish monger would then lambast the other guy. From the gestures and facial expressions it went something like this: What? That's too much! You overcharging blankety-blank. It's Easter for heaven's sake. Show some compassion. 5 euros would be a fair price. No matter.
All the while the customer is the audience. The wrapper would concede. So in effect, the butcher haggled for his customers. He loved it. So did the customers. His counter was packed. The customers left feeling like they got a good deal. And they didn't have to do the haggling. And the wrapper guy had to put his tail between his leg. Mama mia, we are going to loose our shirts. And the monger was having the time of his life. He enjoys his work.
This scene likely evolved over time. And maybe has been in use since the dark ages. I don't think the wrapper is really brow beaten. They are playing roles. And it is a great show. The classic good guy, bad guy. And I didn't even have to understand a word.
Upstairs, I get some blood oranges.
On the street the crowds are increasing even more. And there is less and less car traffic. I think the police may be blocking off some streets to keep traffic out of the city center.
Did I mention how sharp the Swiss knives are?
There are a lot os street vendors out and about. With makeshift stands. Anytime there is a police person in sight, they scatter. Must be some rule against it in certain places. But enforcement seems supeficial. No one is going undercover and making buys to nab any of them.
I have time to re-visit some of my favorite sights here in town. One of them is Giambologna's Rape of Sabine, from about 1583. This is near the outside David in Piazza Signorina. If it didn't make my must see list, it would be in second place here.
I go meet Geri. He is a jewler. He wasn't giving a talk. Just talks English. Alba is there. So much gets cleared up. Geri has a different last name, because he had a different father than Alba's last husband. Dante is an old family friend. Not her husband. And not Geri's father. And Geri is not married. So we understood somewhat last night. The basics. Not the details.
I get to see Geri's gold smith work up close. He carves nto the gold. I get to use the loupe (10 times magnification). Unbelievable work. So fine. He uses special glasses to see while he works. Alba gives me a couple of first day issue stamps from a few years ago. And she didn't even know I collected stamps. SHe had them set aside in an envelope just in case I showed up. If I hadn't, she was planning to mail them to me.
The people here are very nice. Geri tells me the four other jewelry shops that have the best work in town. I set off to go see them He warns me that I won't have the privelege of using the loupe. Something about proefessional pride or jealousy. I don't quite understand. Maybe he means protectiveness - of trade secrets and gold working methods.
The jewelry places are all on this bridge. I manage to get to three of them before closing for the night. Great gold work. And very fine setting and jewels. And one place had cameos. Of course, teh one I liked was the most expensive one in the shop. Very fine carving. Artistic.
Geri also recommended a place for dinner. It was already on my short list, so I would be headed there, after a sunset stroll about town. He gave me a card of introduction.
After sunset, there is a gloaming sky. My favorite time. On the horizon, a greenish yellow hint of a glow. Above that, teal. Then a deep blue, purple, purple black, blue black. But not yet night. Not yet black anywhere in the sky. That moment just befoe night. As it is falling. The color is moving. In my guts. Like great art. Or maybe is is the art with these colors that moves me. Hmm.
Dinner is at Brindellone. This is the name of the Easter cart that will be exploded at noon tomorrow in the town square. An Easter tradition here. So it seems fitting to eat here tonight. I meet Geri's friend Francesco, the chef. Have caprese salad (tomato, basil, fresh matzerella), tortelli (pasta) stuffed with potato, and a local dish - stracotto - beef with tomato sauce - slow cooked. I am stuffed.
The basil here is different. It has spiky leaves. And the taste is a bit bitter.
On the wall are a pair of notices. From 1944. From the Allied Military Government. Must have been when the area was occupied by the liberation forces. The notice required the mandatory reporting of any overnight guest or visitors. Penalty for non-compliance would be up to the commander in charge. Seems pretty harsh in retrospect. Maybe it seemed harsh then. It is certainly not forgotten. Even though we were supposedly the good guys. Not all good, as this evidence shows.
How to take the longer view. Long-term strategic. What matters in the end. What will make a difference?
Something to ponder and sleep on.
Nite nite.
=================
Saturday 10 April
===========
Florence (Firenze) . . .
Yesterday was a good Friday. I have one more sight I want to see. And then I will experience the Eastrer crush here. It is much moer crowded than my prior visit. Streets are packed.
It is sunny and cool.
At the bakery just down the street, I find some nice traditional Easter buns. Get some of those. And a couple of sanwiches for lunch. And some Sicilian oranges from the fruit stand.
Go to the precios stones museum. Isn't jewels. But inlaid marble artwork. The pictures look like paintings. Someone cut put each piece and fit it all together. Shading in the marble was achieved by selective heat treating. There are some big brass door knockers here. Don't get to touch them. And a fireplace mantle made out of malchite (the green grainy semi-precious gem stone).
Most impressive are the tables. Set into black marble. The deep blues glow. And some of the marble slices are cut so thin that you can see into the stone. Gives a three dimensional feel.
It is such a nice day, I need sunglasses upon exiting. I wander off and find the fish market. It was recommended to me as entertaining. It is extra busy. Crammed with pre-Easter shoppers. In addition to fish, there is every kind of meat imaginable hanging. And upstairs is the fruit and vegatables.
People order what they want. And the fish monger guts it right there and cuts it up the way they want. In the case of the meats, the butcher cuts off the parts they want. In one case, the heads, split right there with a big cleaver. Someone else orders lungs, liver and kidneys. Someone else tongue.
No packaging here. Straight from the butcher to the hands of the consumer.
There is quite a bit of banter one of the fish counters. And some haggling. At one counter, one of the mongers was clearly enjoying himself. He would prepare the fish, and then have his co-worker weight it and wrap it up. And give the price. The fish monger would then lambast the other guy. From the gestures and facial expressions it went something like this: What? That's too much! You overcharging blankety-blank. It's Easter for heaven's sake. Show some compassion. 5 euros would be a fair price. No matter.
All the while the customer is the audience. The wrapper would concede. So in effect, the butcher haggled for his customers. He loved it. So did the customers. His counter was packed. The customers left feeling like they got a good deal. And they didn't have to do the haggling. And the wrapper guy had to put his tail between his leg. Mama mia, we are going to loose our shirts. And the monger was having the time of his life. He enjoys his work.
This scene likely evolved over time. And maybe has been in use since the dark ages. I don't think the wrapper is really brow beaten. They are playing roles. And it is a great show. The classic good guy, bad guy. And I didn't even have to understand a word.
Upstairs, I get some blood oranges.
On the street the crowds are increasing even more. And there is less and less car traffic. I think the police may be blocking off some streets to keep traffic out of the city center.
Did I mention how sharp the Swiss knives are?
There are a lot os street vendors out and about. With makeshift stands. Anytime there is a police person in sight, they scatter. Must be some rule against it in certain places. But enforcement seems supeficial. No one is going undercover and making buys to nab any of them.
I have time to re-visit some of my favorite sights here in town. One of them is Giambologna's Rape of Sabine, from about 1583. This is near the outside David in Piazza Signorina. If it didn't make my must see list, it would be in second place here.
I go meet Geri. He is a jewler. He wasn't giving a talk. Just talks English. Alba is there. So much gets cleared up. Geri has a different last name, because he had a different father than Alba's last husband. Dante is an old family friend. Not her husband. And not Geri's father. And Geri is not married. So we understood somewhat last night. The basics. Not the details.
I get to see Geri's gold smith work up close. He carves nto the gold. I get to use the loupe (10 times magnification). Unbelievable work. So fine. He uses special glasses to see while he works. Alba gives me a couple of first day issue stamps from a few years ago. And she didn't even know I collected stamps. SHe had them set aside in an envelope just in case I showed up. If I hadn't, she was planning to mail them to me.
The people here are very nice. Geri tells me the four other jewelry shops that have the best work in town. I set off to go see them He warns me that I won't have the privelege of using the loupe. Something about proefessional pride or jealousy. I don't quite understand. Maybe he means protectiveness - of trade secrets and gold working methods.
The jewelry places are all on this bridge. I manage to get to three of them before closing for the night. Great gold work. And very fine setting and jewels. And one place had cameos. Of course, teh one I liked was the most expensive one in the shop. Very fine carving. Artistic.
Geri also recommended a place for dinner. It was already on my short list, so I would be headed there, after a sunset stroll about town. He gave me a card of introduction.
After sunset, there is a gloaming sky. My favorite time. On the horizon, a greenish yellow hint of a glow. Above that, teal. Then a deep blue, purple, purple black, blue black. But not yet night. Not yet black anywhere in the sky. That moment just befoe night. As it is falling. The color is moving. In my guts. Like great art. Or maybe is is the art with these colors that moves me. Hmm.
Dinner is at Brindellone. This is the name of the Easter cart that will be exploded at noon tomorrow in the town square. An Easter tradition here. So it seems fitting to eat here tonight. I meet Geri's friend Francesco, the chef. Have caprese salad (tomato, basil, fresh matzerella), tortelli (pasta) stuffed with potato, and a local dish - stracotto - beef with tomato sauce - slow cooked. I am stuffed.
The basil here is different. It has spiky leaves. And the taste is a bit bitter.
On the wall are a pair of notices. From 1944. From the Allied Military Government. Must have been when the area was occupied by the liberation forces. The notice required the mandatory reporting of any overnight guest or visitors. Penalty for non-compliance would be up to the commander in charge. Seems pretty harsh in retrospect. Maybe it seemed harsh then. It is certainly not forgotten. Even though we were supposedly the good guys. Not all good, as this evidence shows.
How to take the longer view. Long-term strategic. What matters in the end. What will make a difference?
Something to ponder and sleep on.
Nite nite.
=================
Thursday, April 22, 2004
===========
Good Friday 9 April
============
Florence . . .
Raining overnight. And continuing in the morning. It is like home here.
Have I mentioned these emergency pull cords they have in every shower here? There is a switch way up high. Too high to reach. There is a long string attached to it. If you pull on the string, they come help you. It is in case you fall and need help. Luckily I never tried pulling one when I was attempting to flush.
Well the thing is, they have always been tied up. So if you did fall, it would be too high to reach anyway. But installing them must be part of the building code. Well, I am impressed by the place I am staying. For once, the cord reaches far enough down so that it could be pulled if one fell. Then I look up. Alas, it isn't even attached to the switch. It is tied to a knob in the wall. So no 5 stars even here. But they actually have hot hot water (instead of the usual luke warm hat water).
Did I mention I don't have a place to stay? They had room for me last night, but not after. So I wait for the receptionist/owner, who is due in at 9 am. In order to see if things have changed so that I might extend my stay, or else check out.
Meanwhile some new guests show up, hoping to check in. We get to chatting. Hello there Rick and Becky from Nashville.
As it turns out, they move into my room. And the owner says as longs as one other person agrees to change rooms, I will have a place for tonight and Saturday night. So there is a 99% chance. Whew.
Meanwhile Rick asked if I knew of any good places for dinner. I gushed about Sabatino's. And explained that tonight was it, since they closed over the weekend. And I was going back. It sounded good to them, so we arranged to meet back here in the hall at 7 pm. Which would give us enough time to walk across the river, have dinner, and have them done in time to get to the train station to meet their daughter. Arriving tonight at 10:45.
So off I go to see my sights missed from last time.
First stop, San Lorenzo. To see the stairs leading to the Medici library designed by Michelangelo. Well they are nice stairs. The only eliptical designed stairs known. But there is no sculpture with them. So he was an architect too. And didn't always combine in sculpture.
The books are on tilted tables. With pew like benches. Row after row. The first person in the row would be the last one out. The shelves were this way because the books were so big. They had to be propped up and open in order to use them.
They are all hand written books. On sheepskin paper.
Next stop, Michelangelo's home. Have I mentioned that the cars park on the sidewalks here. Often times theer is no room to walk on the sidewalk. So us pedestrians are out in the street walking along with the traffic.
Michelangelo's home: there are some small sculptures here attributed to Michelangelo. I have my doubts. And there are a few drawings. Many are works of others based upon something Michelangelo did or sketched.
So far, these missed sights are proving to be secondary. So it was OK to miss them.
Next stop, Medici Chapel. This proves to be not a must see, but a close second. Worthwhile to go see if in town. And worthwhile to schedule around, to make sure they are seen. There are six statues by Michelangelo - Day, Night, Dawn, and Evening. And then two portrait statues. Of the two Medicis entombed here. As a whole, teh group of four forms is a work of art. The portrait statues don't have the same quality. They seem dead in comparison to the allegory statues. Maybe on purpose, since this is their tomb.
It is still rainy. And wet wet. My other sight to see closed at two, so will have to catch it tomorrow. Have a nice afternoon in town, and then get back to meet Rick and Becky before 7.
We walk to the restaurant across the river. I take the longer way by mistake. But we eventually get there. So much for being a guide. Dinner is great - fish on Friday. I have squid. And I order that great cabbage salad again. It doesn't arrive by the time we have our dulce course, so I order it for desert. Mmm good.
During dinner, we meet an Italian couple. Dante and Alba. [At least I thought they were a couple. Turns out they are just old friends.] We kind of communicate. My Italian book helps some. And Alba's English helps some. It is a great dinner. I love it. Italian food in an Italian place full of local Italians. And we meet some of them.
We come to understand that Geri, a child of Alba's is giving some kind of talk tomorrow afternoon near one of the big museums. We make note of the address.
Upon leaving, the proprietor again makes sure we understand that they are closed tomorrow and Sunday. Great service too.
Then we head for home. The train station is on the way. We are about 25 minutes early. So we go wait in the waiting room. I peel some oranges. And get a few looks. So I get out the dictionary and translate the text of a sign there in the room. No smoking. No this. No that. Item six or seven turns out to say no eating or drinking. Oops.
The train arrives. No Annie. Now what? Did she catch a different train? Maybe she sent an e-mail. Maybe she left a message with a contact in Florence. These possibilities are pursued. By now, it is almost time for the next train. Which is late. So we wait. And sure enough, Annie is on it.
A touching family reunion. And we head home. And to be immediatly, since it is after midnight by now.
A great day. Wow!
A great sight, a great dinner, and great company - both American and Italian!
================
Good Friday 9 April
============
Florence . . .
Raining overnight. And continuing in the morning. It is like home here.
Have I mentioned these emergency pull cords they have in every shower here? There is a switch way up high. Too high to reach. There is a long string attached to it. If you pull on the string, they come help you. It is in case you fall and need help. Luckily I never tried pulling one when I was attempting to flush.
Well the thing is, they have always been tied up. So if you did fall, it would be too high to reach anyway. But installing them must be part of the building code. Well, I am impressed by the place I am staying. For once, the cord reaches far enough down so that it could be pulled if one fell. Then I look up. Alas, it isn't even attached to the switch. It is tied to a knob in the wall. So no 5 stars even here. But they actually have hot hot water (instead of the usual luke warm hat water).
Did I mention I don't have a place to stay? They had room for me last night, but not after. So I wait for the receptionist/owner, who is due in at 9 am. In order to see if things have changed so that I might extend my stay, or else check out.
Meanwhile some new guests show up, hoping to check in. We get to chatting. Hello there Rick and Becky from Nashville.
As it turns out, they move into my room. And the owner says as longs as one other person agrees to change rooms, I will have a place for tonight and Saturday night. So there is a 99% chance. Whew.
Meanwhile Rick asked if I knew of any good places for dinner. I gushed about Sabatino's. And explained that tonight was it, since they closed over the weekend. And I was going back. It sounded good to them, so we arranged to meet back here in the hall at 7 pm. Which would give us enough time to walk across the river, have dinner, and have them done in time to get to the train station to meet their daughter. Arriving tonight at 10:45.
So off I go to see my sights missed from last time.
First stop, San Lorenzo. To see the stairs leading to the Medici library designed by Michelangelo. Well they are nice stairs. The only eliptical designed stairs known. But there is no sculpture with them. So he was an architect too. And didn't always combine in sculpture.
The books are on tilted tables. With pew like benches. Row after row. The first person in the row would be the last one out. The shelves were this way because the books were so big. They had to be propped up and open in order to use them.
They are all hand written books. On sheepskin paper.
Next stop, Michelangelo's home. Have I mentioned that the cars park on the sidewalks here. Often times theer is no room to walk on the sidewalk. So us pedestrians are out in the street walking along with the traffic.
Michelangelo's home: there are some small sculptures here attributed to Michelangelo. I have my doubts. And there are a few drawings. Many are works of others based upon something Michelangelo did or sketched.
So far, these missed sights are proving to be secondary. So it was OK to miss them.
Next stop, Medici Chapel. This proves to be not a must see, but a close second. Worthwhile to go see if in town. And worthwhile to schedule around, to make sure they are seen. There are six statues by Michelangelo - Day, Night, Dawn, and Evening. And then two portrait statues. Of the two Medicis entombed here. As a whole, teh group of four forms is a work of art. The portrait statues don't have the same quality. They seem dead in comparison to the allegory statues. Maybe on purpose, since this is their tomb.
It is still rainy. And wet wet. My other sight to see closed at two, so will have to catch it tomorrow. Have a nice afternoon in town, and then get back to meet Rick and Becky before 7.
We walk to the restaurant across the river. I take the longer way by mistake. But we eventually get there. So much for being a guide. Dinner is great - fish on Friday. I have squid. And I order that great cabbage salad again. It doesn't arrive by the time we have our dulce course, so I order it for desert. Mmm good.
During dinner, we meet an Italian couple. Dante and Alba. [At least I thought they were a couple. Turns out they are just old friends.] We kind of communicate. My Italian book helps some. And Alba's English helps some. It is a great dinner. I love it. Italian food in an Italian place full of local Italians. And we meet some of them.
We come to understand that Geri, a child of Alba's is giving some kind of talk tomorrow afternoon near one of the big museums. We make note of the address.
Upon leaving, the proprietor again makes sure we understand that they are closed tomorrow and Sunday. Great service too.
Then we head for home. The train station is on the way. We are about 25 minutes early. So we go wait in the waiting room. I peel some oranges. And get a few looks. So I get out the dictionary and translate the text of a sign there in the room. No smoking. No this. No that. Item six or seven turns out to say no eating or drinking. Oops.
The train arrives. No Annie. Now what? Did she catch a different train? Maybe she sent an e-mail. Maybe she left a message with a contact in Florence. These possibilities are pursued. By now, it is almost time for the next train. Which is late. So we wait. And sure enough, Annie is on it.
A touching family reunion. And we head home. And to be immediatly, since it is after midnight by now.
A great day. Wow!
A great sight, a great dinner, and great company - both American and Italian!
================
==============
Thursday 8 April
===========
Carrara . . .
Sunny and cool today.
Sure enough, I get lost riding the bike back to Noe's place. Things sure look different in the morning. In the light. And from the opposite direction.
I stop to get directions. Repeatedly. Have I mentioned the language barrier?
I know how to ask. And I get answered in Italian. I get closer. And get clues. The hand gestures help.
I am avoiding calling, because I have even had more trouble with the phones here. The recordings are in Italian, and the screen prompts are in Italian.
Well I finally find the place. Just after 10 am. And no Noe. The night before we had said about 9 or so. So I guess I am going to have to figure out the phone anyway.
I call after getting directions to a pay phone. In the process, I see a button with a flag on it. I press that, and lo and behold, some of the instructions on the screen turn into English! This helps.
Noe answers - sounds like from a deep sleep. We say hello. Then the connection is lost. I go back, knock on the door. No answer. Hum. I go call again. After waiting about 10 minutes for someone else to finish with the pay phone. Now, no answer at all. Noe said he was low on his cell phone minutes. Maybe he ran out.
I go back, knock on the door. No answer. I leave a note. Don't know what else to do except proceed on to Florence. Just as I am about to leave, I try one last time. This time, Noe wakes up and answers the door. He looks terrible.
No, he didn't sleep well. Trouble with is love life. Matters of the heart. The phone call last night? Yes. It must have gone badly. So he didn't have a good night's sleep. So it doesn't work out to go to the caves anyway. Back to bed for Noe. And Back to Florence then for me. To see Michelangelo's home.
I had bought bus tickets that morning for getting to the caves. Won't need them. The tobacco shop wouldn't buy them. They only sell them. I sell them to someone at the train station.
And catch the train that leaves in about 40 minutes.
Stop in Pietrosanta on the way. There are shops and workshops theer. Ful of carved marble. I know there is a school around somewehre. I don't find it. I am in town during the siesta hours (which is really two or three hours). Most shops are closed. And there is harly anyone out and about.
This town has old walls. Looks like a nice place.
Back on the train. Next possible stop for me id Lucca. Head this was a nice town. Stopping over for an hour or two may be worthwhile.
As we approach Lucca, the view from the train doesn't look too promising. I decide to skip it. Get on to Florence. In time to get a place to stay, hopefully. With Easter weekend fast approaching.
I get to Florence. And try to call the place I stayed last time. Can't get the phone to work. It keeps my coins. So does the second. And the third. I learn to start with a 5 cent coin instead of a 50.
Evntually find one that works. The place I stayed befoer is full tonight. And for Easter. I acll a place that someone else told me about when I was on my way to Florence the first time. They have room tonight. But not on Easter. I go for it. Will solve the Easter problem later. Even if it means moving on to another less popular town.
Then I go out for dinner at my favorite place - Sabatinos. Have green and white pasta, pheasant, beets. And a second pasta (with meat sauce). I meet an Italian woman who sits at my table. SHe has a cabbage salad. Looks good. So I try that too. It is excellent. Basically shredded raw cabbage with olive oil and a dash of vinegar. Yum.
She has pears with her cheese. Her favorite. And she gives me her extra wine.
Have gelati on the way home - tasted the rose - no get ammeretto and green melon.
A great day. Feels like I am back home - in Florence. A familiar and liked place. And sleep comes right away.
Nite nite.
================
Thursday 8 April
===========
Carrara . . .
Sunny and cool today.
Sure enough, I get lost riding the bike back to Noe's place. Things sure look different in the morning. In the light. And from the opposite direction.
I stop to get directions. Repeatedly. Have I mentioned the language barrier?
I know how to ask. And I get answered in Italian. I get closer. And get clues. The hand gestures help.
I am avoiding calling, because I have even had more trouble with the phones here. The recordings are in Italian, and the screen prompts are in Italian.
Well I finally find the place. Just after 10 am. And no Noe. The night before we had said about 9 or so. So I guess I am going to have to figure out the phone anyway.
I call after getting directions to a pay phone. In the process, I see a button with a flag on it. I press that, and lo and behold, some of the instructions on the screen turn into English! This helps.
Noe answers - sounds like from a deep sleep. We say hello. Then the connection is lost. I go back, knock on the door. No answer. Hum. I go call again. After waiting about 10 minutes for someone else to finish with the pay phone. Now, no answer at all. Noe said he was low on his cell phone minutes. Maybe he ran out.
I go back, knock on the door. No answer. I leave a note. Don't know what else to do except proceed on to Florence. Just as I am about to leave, I try one last time. This time, Noe wakes up and answers the door. He looks terrible.
No, he didn't sleep well. Trouble with is love life. Matters of the heart. The phone call last night? Yes. It must have gone badly. So he didn't have a good night's sleep. So it doesn't work out to go to the caves anyway. Back to bed for Noe. And Back to Florence then for me. To see Michelangelo's home.
I had bought bus tickets that morning for getting to the caves. Won't need them. The tobacco shop wouldn't buy them. They only sell them. I sell them to someone at the train station.
And catch the train that leaves in about 40 minutes.
Stop in Pietrosanta on the way. There are shops and workshops theer. Ful of carved marble. I know there is a school around somewehre. I don't find it. I am in town during the siesta hours (which is really two or three hours). Most shops are closed. And there is harly anyone out and about.
This town has old walls. Looks like a nice place.
Back on the train. Next possible stop for me id Lucca. Head this was a nice town. Stopping over for an hour or two may be worthwhile.
As we approach Lucca, the view from the train doesn't look too promising. I decide to skip it. Get on to Florence. In time to get a place to stay, hopefully. With Easter weekend fast approaching.
I get to Florence. And try to call the place I stayed last time. Can't get the phone to work. It keeps my coins. So does the second. And the third. I learn to start with a 5 cent coin instead of a 50.
Evntually find one that works. The place I stayed befoer is full tonight. And for Easter. I acll a place that someone else told me about when I was on my way to Florence the first time. They have room tonight. But not on Easter. I go for it. Will solve the Easter problem later. Even if it means moving on to another less popular town.
Then I go out for dinner at my favorite place - Sabatinos. Have green and white pasta, pheasant, beets. And a second pasta (with meat sauce). I meet an Italian woman who sits at my table. SHe has a cabbage salad. Looks good. So I try that too. It is excellent. Basically shredded raw cabbage with olive oil and a dash of vinegar. Yum.
She has pears with her cheese. Her favorite. And she gives me her extra wine.
Have gelati on the way home - tasted the rose - no get ammeretto and green melon.
A great day. Feels like I am back home - in Florence. A familiar and liked place. And sleep comes right away.
Nite nite.
================
=========
Wednesday 7 April (continued)
============
Carrara . . .
I am excited about going to class tonight. Hope it works out. I get myself oriented so I can find my way back. Earlier, I found out that it is a three year program. This includes math, English, and other general courses. I communicate that I already have a degree (not a PhD - they didn't understand what a Bachelor of Science was but they did understand not a PHd Doctorate). The administration person said that yes, many credits mmight transfer. Especilly the English. But of course, I would need to take Italian.
Then I switch back to tourist mode. And go to explore Carrara for the day. There are dogs sleeping on the side walk. And dog poop and graffiti in abundance. And unlike the toursits towns, it doesn't seem to be anyone's job here to clean up. Which is too bad. Because even the side walks here are made of marble.
Here's a good idea to export. Want a shopping cart? Put in 2 euro. When you return the cart, yiou get the 2 euro back. The cart costs more than 2, but most people would rather have their 2 euro back. I only see one stray shopping cart the entire time. SO visitors to Portland would likely notice and comment on the number of stray shpping carts that are used by the homeless.
I follow signs to the marble museum. It is further than I thought based upon some directions I got along the way. On the way theer, it hails. Now where is that umbrella hat when I need it? Make use of an old bus stop for a time.
The best part of the marble museum is the exhibit they have outside in front of the museum. They recovered some old roughed out columns, column bases, and tps from Roman times. These were left up on the mountain. Perhaps there was a flaw noticed, or an error made. Or a few extras that were left behind. Anyway, it shows that the pieces were roughed out up on the mountain, before being moved the 7 kilometers to the sea, and then on to Rome or where ever.
And they have some old blocks that have the crew markings from Roman times. The crew who worked the stone would chisel their mark into it.
The second best part was seeing all the old tools. To work the stone, and move the stone. This part of the exhibit could use more light. SOme of these places are very dim, in order to conserve the items on display, but I don't see how light would hurt steel tools.
By the time I get back to town, there isn't enough time for dinner before class. So I find the school again pretty quickly. I go to the lab, and no one is there. It is locked up. I wait until class is scheduled to start. Still no one.
So I go try to find someone to ask. Have a mentioned a language barrier? Eventually, by using the teacher's name, I am made to understand that class is postponed. So I mill around in front of the building for a while.
When the teacher gets there, I introduce myself. He doesn't understand English at all. A student steps in and helps translate. The students have to take English, but I guess the Professors don't. The teacher is very agreeable. There is a small class tonight since many students have already left for the holiday.
My translator turn out to be Noe from Spain. Like Noah. He explains many things and then I get to watch the students and teacher work. The lab is actually two big rooms. So I jump back and forth.
The students use a wooden T frame divice that rests on the item being copied in three places. There is a movable pointer that is clamped on the tee. Then a pointer is made to point to a certain point on the original (or a centimeter above it for safety margin). The tee frame is then moved over to the copy, and the pointer indicates how much more material may need to be removed from that particular point. The depth is indicated because the pointer can slide away from the point. The distance it slides indicates the depth of material that still needs to be removed. Then they chisel away. And then rest the tee frame again. Until they get down to the point. This process is repeated over and over, until the entire form has been ropughed out this way.
I fond out that they progress through a few basic exercises. First: By eye, they copy a flat design. Second: then they copy a bas relief (making use of the pointer device). Third: Then they copy and enlarge an item. From a small model to the size of their marble block. Scaling it up involves a triangle that they make based upon the model and the raw block (the model size is one leg of a right triangle, the block size is the hypotenuse - then this triangle can be used to translate any distance on the model to the proper desired distance on the block). Fourth: Then the big project - they copy a large in-the-round sculpture.
Noe expects his fourth project to take him a few years! Patience and persistence. All the tools are provided. And all the marble. The scholl keeps the finished work. If the student wants it, they have to buy it from the school.
There is also a series of machine related exercises (make a box, make a vase, make a column, make a flat patterened surface). These exercises all involve saws, drills, lathes, and other big equipment. There was no machine lab class tonight, so I just got to see the room and the equipment.
Well this is just great. Worth the trip here. Couldn't have worked out better.
Then it just keeps getting better. I get to try chiseling. So by trying, I realize I do not know which handed I am. The same old story. Write with my left hand. Catch with my right. Throw with my right. Mouse with my right.
The norm is to hammer with your dominant hand. And to hold the chisel with the non-dominant hand. So most people have the hammer in the right, and the chisel in the left.
Neither way feels natural to me. So I start opposite from my laft handed ways. I hammer with my right, hold the chisel with my left. And based upon my hamering training, I watch the head of the chisel. Nope, have to watch the point - the cutting edge. And it takes quite a swing. Ideally from behind the ear. And with a regular steady beat. And listen - hear the stone, and the iron.
Sometimes my strike is off, and the steel vibration stings my hand. No, I didn't hit my hand with the hammer. Not yet, anyway. And my swings aer too small. So I expand thaem. And chip off some marble. My first. It is a big thrill. There is something about it. Like singing.
I could practice hammering both ways, so that neither hand is dominant. Then I could chisel from two directions. And when one hand got tired, I could switch. So my hope is to be both handed.
Noe is happy with having completed one point on his sculpture. After class, we go out for pizza. I missed dinner after all. Seems to be a tradition. Silvia, Ana, and Jon are all from Morocco. Here for three years too.
Turns out tuition for the school is only 50 euro per year! So the issue is to support yourself for that time. And once you get your certificate, then you can get work.
Noe is going to stick around for the holiday, so he offers to show me the marble caves tomorrow. Since classes were over, I was plannnig to go on back to Florence, but going to the caves sounds fun. I think he worked there at some point, so he knows his way around.
Noe is a bit distracted, frantic even, to get ahold of a girlfriend on the phone. No answer all evening. He tried agian before we got on the bus. He too lives by the ocean. The plan is for us to go to his place. And then for me to go on to my place. Then I will know where he lives.
He even lends me his bike. I am not so sure. Since we had wine with dinner. Seems like my balance may be off. I do fine with riding. But not directions. I end up in the next town. And not by the ocean. So I back track and start over. I eventually get there. At about 11:40. So it is late. I had a full day. Dinner, wine. And my first carving! I saved a piece of chipped off marble. Great memories. And Noe was a great teacher. And I have a nice memento.
Nite nite.
====================
Wednesday 7 April (continued)
============
Carrara . . .
I am excited about going to class tonight. Hope it works out. I get myself oriented so I can find my way back. Earlier, I found out that it is a three year program. This includes math, English, and other general courses. I communicate that I already have a degree (not a PhD - they didn't understand what a Bachelor of Science was but they did understand not a PHd Doctorate). The administration person said that yes, many credits mmight transfer. Especilly the English. But of course, I would need to take Italian.
Then I switch back to tourist mode. And go to explore Carrara for the day. There are dogs sleeping on the side walk. And dog poop and graffiti in abundance. And unlike the toursits towns, it doesn't seem to be anyone's job here to clean up. Which is too bad. Because even the side walks here are made of marble.
Here's a good idea to export. Want a shopping cart? Put in 2 euro. When you return the cart, yiou get the 2 euro back. The cart costs more than 2, but most people would rather have their 2 euro back. I only see one stray shopping cart the entire time. SO visitors to Portland would likely notice and comment on the number of stray shpping carts that are used by the homeless.
I follow signs to the marble museum. It is further than I thought based upon some directions I got along the way. On the way theer, it hails. Now where is that umbrella hat when I need it? Make use of an old bus stop for a time.
The best part of the marble museum is the exhibit they have outside in front of the museum. They recovered some old roughed out columns, column bases, and tps from Roman times. These were left up on the mountain. Perhaps there was a flaw noticed, or an error made. Or a few extras that were left behind. Anyway, it shows that the pieces were roughed out up on the mountain, before being moved the 7 kilometers to the sea, and then on to Rome or where ever.
And they have some old blocks that have the crew markings from Roman times. The crew who worked the stone would chisel their mark into it.
The second best part was seeing all the old tools. To work the stone, and move the stone. This part of the exhibit could use more light. SOme of these places are very dim, in order to conserve the items on display, but I don't see how light would hurt steel tools.
By the time I get back to town, there isn't enough time for dinner before class. So I find the school again pretty quickly. I go to the lab, and no one is there. It is locked up. I wait until class is scheduled to start. Still no one.
So I go try to find someone to ask. Have a mentioned a language barrier? Eventually, by using the teacher's name, I am made to understand that class is postponed. So I mill around in front of the building for a while.
When the teacher gets there, I introduce myself. He doesn't understand English at all. A student steps in and helps translate. The students have to take English, but I guess the Professors don't. The teacher is very agreeable. There is a small class tonight since many students have already left for the holiday.
My translator turn out to be Noe from Spain. Like Noah. He explains many things and then I get to watch the students and teacher work. The lab is actually two big rooms. So I jump back and forth.
The students use a wooden T frame divice that rests on the item being copied in three places. There is a movable pointer that is clamped on the tee. Then a pointer is made to point to a certain point on the original (or a centimeter above it for safety margin). The tee frame is then moved over to the copy, and the pointer indicates how much more material may need to be removed from that particular point. The depth is indicated because the pointer can slide away from the point. The distance it slides indicates the depth of material that still needs to be removed. Then they chisel away. And then rest the tee frame again. Until they get down to the point. This process is repeated over and over, until the entire form has been ropughed out this way.
I fond out that they progress through a few basic exercises. First: By eye, they copy a flat design. Second: then they copy a bas relief (making use of the pointer device). Third: Then they copy and enlarge an item. From a small model to the size of their marble block. Scaling it up involves a triangle that they make based upon the model and the raw block (the model size is one leg of a right triangle, the block size is the hypotenuse - then this triangle can be used to translate any distance on the model to the proper desired distance on the block). Fourth: Then the big project - they copy a large in-the-round sculpture.
Noe expects his fourth project to take him a few years! Patience and persistence. All the tools are provided. And all the marble. The scholl keeps the finished work. If the student wants it, they have to buy it from the school.
There is also a series of machine related exercises (make a box, make a vase, make a column, make a flat patterened surface). These exercises all involve saws, drills, lathes, and other big equipment. There was no machine lab class tonight, so I just got to see the room and the equipment.
Well this is just great. Worth the trip here. Couldn't have worked out better.
Then it just keeps getting better. I get to try chiseling. So by trying, I realize I do not know which handed I am. The same old story. Write with my left hand. Catch with my right. Throw with my right. Mouse with my right.
The norm is to hammer with your dominant hand. And to hold the chisel with the non-dominant hand. So most people have the hammer in the right, and the chisel in the left.
Neither way feels natural to me. So I start opposite from my laft handed ways. I hammer with my right, hold the chisel with my left. And based upon my hamering training, I watch the head of the chisel. Nope, have to watch the point - the cutting edge. And it takes quite a swing. Ideally from behind the ear. And with a regular steady beat. And listen - hear the stone, and the iron.
Sometimes my strike is off, and the steel vibration stings my hand. No, I didn't hit my hand with the hammer. Not yet, anyway. And my swings aer too small. So I expand thaem. And chip off some marble. My first. It is a big thrill. There is something about it. Like singing.
I could practice hammering both ways, so that neither hand is dominant. Then I could chisel from two directions. And when one hand got tired, I could switch. So my hope is to be both handed.
Noe is happy with having completed one point on his sculpture. After class, we go out for pizza. I missed dinner after all. Seems to be a tradition. Silvia, Ana, and Jon are all from Morocco. Here for three years too.
Turns out tuition for the school is only 50 euro per year! So the issue is to support yourself for that time. And once you get your certificate, then you can get work.
Noe is going to stick around for the holiday, so he offers to show me the marble caves tomorrow. Since classes were over, I was plannnig to go on back to Florence, but going to the caves sounds fun. I think he worked there at some point, so he knows his way around.
Noe is a bit distracted, frantic even, to get ahold of a girlfriend on the phone. No answer all evening. He tried agian before we got on the bus. He too lives by the ocean. The plan is for us to go to his place. And then for me to go on to my place. Then I will know where he lives.
He even lends me his bike. I am not so sure. Since we had wine with dinner. Seems like my balance may be off. I do fine with riding. But not directions. I end up in the next town. And not by the ocean. So I back track and start over. I eventually get there. At about 11:40. So it is late. I had a full day. Dinner, wine. And my first carving! I saved a piece of chipped off marble. Great memories. And Noe was a great teacher. And I have a nice memento.
Nite nite.
====================
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
==========
Tuesday 6 April
==========
Siena to Carrara . . .
Sunny and cool. I am back tracking now in my travels. The train that goes to Carrera ends up in La Spezia. That is back at the Cinque Terra. Earlier I went from La Spezia to Florence, through Pisa. Carrera is the southern route. So I don't go through Pisa again.
I do pass through Pietrosanta and Marmi. Both towns have big blocks of stone all over the place. In commercial yard after commercial yard. This area supplies much of the world with architectural marble. That's alot of stone.
I was seeking to find Pietrosanta when I was in Florence. I met Matteo there. He has a friend Marco who still lives in Carrera. He says the best marble carving school is in Carerra, not Pietrosanta. So I shifted my plans to Carrara instead.
Meanwhile, did I mention that I met Carole and Mo on the train (I think it was from Roma to Assisi)? Another knife story. The first English words I hear in a long time as I am going down the aisle on the train are something about do you have a knife (from one passenger to another - not to me). So I ask, metal or plastic? Huh? Metal or plastic knife? Oh, yeah, plastic would be fine. So I dig out a reserve set that some pizza place had given me.
Turns out they are from Eugene, Oregon. We are relativly neighbors. We have a nice train ride together. And they are meeting up with a friend who is teaching for a time abroad in Pietrosanta - teaching sculpture! Now what are the odds?
And then I ran into them in Assisi a couple of times.
So anyway, I stick with my Carrara plan. I can't really call it a plan though. It feels like I am stepping off a cliff again. Risky. Don't even have any idea if I am headed in the right direction. Kind of a random walk. Or make that leap. Into the abyss.
Before I leave Siena, I actually call ahead and contact Marco. He says he will pick me up at the train station. Now that is hospitality. I call Matteo too, to see if he might be able to visit home while I am there. The timing isn't good for him. He has gigs booked through the weekend and won't be able to get away.
So I get to Carrara. Marco picks me up. He's having a busy day. A meeting in the morning. A meeting later in the day. Cell phone calls. And a conversation on the road with another driver - between cars - a girl friend as it seems to turn out. Quite heated, very dramatic and expressive. Hand gestures abound.
He takes me to Nicoli. He knows them. I meet Francesca - the daughter or granddaughter of the founder. It is a long family tradition. Well it turns out they make sculptures based upon artist's completed designs. And they provide marble and workspace for craftsmen who are rendering designs for artists or for the artists themselves. They are not really geared for teaching. She points me on my way to the Academia - the local art school. And she lets me hang around and watch the craftsmen there work for a while. Big sculptures. These are for buildings. Too big for even a park.
I notice that some of the craftmen counter weight their tools. So they don't have to keep picking them up. They just lay it on the surface of the marble. And the counterweight keeps gravity from taking over.
By now it is early evening. Time to settle in. Marco takes me directly to the place by the sea where I am staying. So I am all set. He even found an alternate place for me in town, if the commute from the sea side proves to take too long (7 kilometers) or if it is inconvenient.
Dinner is served at 8, so I have time to do some hand washing, hang it on the line to dry - by sea breeze. And I go for a walk by the surf. Strong waves here. And the beach stones are mostly marble. All sizes and shapes. The stones make this great loud tumbling sound as the waves come and go.
At dinner I meet Ard (spelling?) from the Netherlands. And Nicole from Switzerland (east side of the alps in the Romanish area, but in a town that speaks Swiss German). Two fellow travelers with like minds.
Ard is 198 centimeters. Down to 196 with age. He is trekking around. Ran into some snow blocking his way over the mountain route. So he had to change plans. Makes me feel better about my Alpen hike to Gimmewald. [Hey Ard].
Nicole has elfin qualities. That Cetlic sparkle in her eyes. She agrees that there was likely some Celtic bloodline in her past - maybe even mauraders. She only has two names. No middle name. Yet. I think that leaves space for a Celtic middle name. I tell her I will let her know when a good one comes to mind. Meanwhile she may get one in a dream. Even though she doesn't remember dreams. [No name for you yet Niclole from me].
Well, the marble thing didn't magically happen as I had fantasized. But all in all a good day. And a good dinner with fellow travelers to end the day.
Nite nite.
===================
Wednesday 7 April
============
Carrara . . .
It is windy and cool. Clothes are dry from being out overnight. Without the breeze, the pants usually take longer. It is cloudy and sunny.
I go to the Academia. Of course it is moer involved than this. Where is it? How do I get there? Of course there is a language barrier.
Well I get a couple of bus tickets from the reception desk. One for my return trip. And catch the bus into town. There is marble everywhere. I have to transfer after about two stops. I see a bakery/sausage shop so I stock up for lunch. And then wait for my next bus.
I get on the next bus. There are two ticket control guys. About three quarters of the people who were waiting to get on the bus scatter. They don't get on. They saw the control guys and fled. Some system.
I had already validated my ticket when I got on the first bus. So I din't do so again. They wanted to see my ticket. I showed them. They say it is no good. As far as I can figure out. Did I mention a language barrier?
Basically, I am busted by the ticket control. I am dumbfounded. I validated my ticket less than 30 minutes ago. Typically they are good for 90 minutes. So I ask if I need two tickets to get into town? Doesn't make sense to me. But I validate my second ticket anyway and show them. They are somewhat appeased. I still need to find out what the issue is so that it doesn't happen again. Well with writing and some translating by passengers, it turns out I got type A tickets for 90 cents. They are only good for one ride. The time stamp does not matter. I needed to use a type C ticket which costs 1 euro and is good for 90 minutes. Boy, I sure would love to simplify this system and its operation. Including the control process. The savy free loaders just don't get on. And the even savier ones hold a ticket in reserve and only use it when there is a control.
So now I know, get the type C tickets, or else walk a few blocks to the transfer point, and catch the main bus into town without having to transfer.
Again, there is a language barrier. I ask for directions. And follow them as best as I can. I eventually get to the Academia. I had seen it the day before. But that doesn't mean I knew how to get back there.
And the signs that have a "you are here" indicator do help. But I still have to figure out which direction from here is where I want to go. So street signs also help. Many times there are none.
Eventually, I get to the Academia. As far as I can figure out, they are more of an art school. Not a lot of actual carving seems to be going on here. So I get re-directed to the craftman school. Where the carvers are trained. Up the street. They train the people who do the carving work. Typically they would make an exact copy from another sculpture or a full-sized plaster (gesso) model. Or they can scale a sculpture up. From a small model to any size. So this world is divided into designers (artists) and those who do the carving.
Again, with directions, and pointing, and gesturing about marble carving craftsman school, I find the school. I ask as best as I can about marble carving (marmo sculturo courso). Turns out this is the last day of classes before spring break. And there is one last marble lab. Tonight at 6:40 PM. I get the name of the teacher. And I plan to return.
A good morning. I have class to look forward too. Just hope the teacher will let me watch.
==============
Tuesday 6 April
==========
Siena to Carrara . . .
Sunny and cool. I am back tracking now in my travels. The train that goes to Carrera ends up in La Spezia. That is back at the Cinque Terra. Earlier I went from La Spezia to Florence, through Pisa. Carrera is the southern route. So I don't go through Pisa again.
I do pass through Pietrosanta and Marmi. Both towns have big blocks of stone all over the place. In commercial yard after commercial yard. This area supplies much of the world with architectural marble. That's alot of stone.
I was seeking to find Pietrosanta when I was in Florence. I met Matteo there. He has a friend Marco who still lives in Carrera. He says the best marble carving school is in Carerra, not Pietrosanta. So I shifted my plans to Carrara instead.
Meanwhile, did I mention that I met Carole and Mo on the train (I think it was from Roma to Assisi)? Another knife story. The first English words I hear in a long time as I am going down the aisle on the train are something about do you have a knife (from one passenger to another - not to me). So I ask, metal or plastic? Huh? Metal or plastic knife? Oh, yeah, plastic would be fine. So I dig out a reserve set that some pizza place had given me.
Turns out they are from Eugene, Oregon. We are relativly neighbors. We have a nice train ride together. And they are meeting up with a friend who is teaching for a time abroad in Pietrosanta - teaching sculpture! Now what are the odds?
And then I ran into them in Assisi a couple of times.
So anyway, I stick with my Carrara plan. I can't really call it a plan though. It feels like I am stepping off a cliff again. Risky. Don't even have any idea if I am headed in the right direction. Kind of a random walk. Or make that leap. Into the abyss.
Before I leave Siena, I actually call ahead and contact Marco. He says he will pick me up at the train station. Now that is hospitality. I call Matteo too, to see if he might be able to visit home while I am there. The timing isn't good for him. He has gigs booked through the weekend and won't be able to get away.
So I get to Carrara. Marco picks me up. He's having a busy day. A meeting in the morning. A meeting later in the day. Cell phone calls. And a conversation on the road with another driver - between cars - a girl friend as it seems to turn out. Quite heated, very dramatic and expressive. Hand gestures abound.
He takes me to Nicoli. He knows them. I meet Francesca - the daughter or granddaughter of the founder. It is a long family tradition. Well it turns out they make sculptures based upon artist's completed designs. And they provide marble and workspace for craftsmen who are rendering designs for artists or for the artists themselves. They are not really geared for teaching. She points me on my way to the Academia - the local art school. And she lets me hang around and watch the craftsmen there work for a while. Big sculptures. These are for buildings. Too big for even a park.
I notice that some of the craftmen counter weight their tools. So they don't have to keep picking them up. They just lay it on the surface of the marble. And the counterweight keeps gravity from taking over.
By now it is early evening. Time to settle in. Marco takes me directly to the place by the sea where I am staying. So I am all set. He even found an alternate place for me in town, if the commute from the sea side proves to take too long (7 kilometers) or if it is inconvenient.
Dinner is served at 8, so I have time to do some hand washing, hang it on the line to dry - by sea breeze. And I go for a walk by the surf. Strong waves here. And the beach stones are mostly marble. All sizes and shapes. The stones make this great loud tumbling sound as the waves come and go.
At dinner I meet Ard (spelling?) from the Netherlands. And Nicole from Switzerland (east side of the alps in the Romanish area, but in a town that speaks Swiss German). Two fellow travelers with like minds.
Ard is 198 centimeters. Down to 196 with age. He is trekking around. Ran into some snow blocking his way over the mountain route. So he had to change plans. Makes me feel better about my Alpen hike to Gimmewald. [Hey Ard].
Nicole has elfin qualities. That Cetlic sparkle in her eyes. She agrees that there was likely some Celtic bloodline in her past - maybe even mauraders. She only has two names. No middle name. Yet. I think that leaves space for a Celtic middle name. I tell her I will let her know when a good one comes to mind. Meanwhile she may get one in a dream. Even though she doesn't remember dreams. [No name for you yet Niclole from me].
Well, the marble thing didn't magically happen as I had fantasized. But all in all a good day. And a good dinner with fellow travelers to end the day.
Nite nite.
===================
Wednesday 7 April
============
Carrara . . .
It is windy and cool. Clothes are dry from being out overnight. Without the breeze, the pants usually take longer. It is cloudy and sunny.
I go to the Academia. Of course it is moer involved than this. Where is it? How do I get there? Of course there is a language barrier.
Well I get a couple of bus tickets from the reception desk. One for my return trip. And catch the bus into town. There is marble everywhere. I have to transfer after about two stops. I see a bakery/sausage shop so I stock up for lunch. And then wait for my next bus.
I get on the next bus. There are two ticket control guys. About three quarters of the people who were waiting to get on the bus scatter. They don't get on. They saw the control guys and fled. Some system.
I had already validated my ticket when I got on the first bus. So I din't do so again. They wanted to see my ticket. I showed them. They say it is no good. As far as I can figure out. Did I mention a language barrier?
Basically, I am busted by the ticket control. I am dumbfounded. I validated my ticket less than 30 minutes ago. Typically they are good for 90 minutes. So I ask if I need two tickets to get into town? Doesn't make sense to me. But I validate my second ticket anyway and show them. They are somewhat appeased. I still need to find out what the issue is so that it doesn't happen again. Well with writing and some translating by passengers, it turns out I got type A tickets for 90 cents. They are only good for one ride. The time stamp does not matter. I needed to use a type C ticket which costs 1 euro and is good for 90 minutes. Boy, I sure would love to simplify this system and its operation. Including the control process. The savy free loaders just don't get on. And the even savier ones hold a ticket in reserve and only use it when there is a control.
So now I know, get the type C tickets, or else walk a few blocks to the transfer point, and catch the main bus into town without having to transfer.
Again, there is a language barrier. I ask for directions. And follow them as best as I can. I eventually get to the Academia. I had seen it the day before. But that doesn't mean I knew how to get back there.
And the signs that have a "you are here" indicator do help. But I still have to figure out which direction from here is where I want to go. So street signs also help. Many times there are none.
Eventually, I get to the Academia. As far as I can figure out, they are more of an art school. Not a lot of actual carving seems to be going on here. So I get re-directed to the craftman school. Where the carvers are trained. Up the street. They train the people who do the carving work. Typically they would make an exact copy from another sculpture or a full-sized plaster (gesso) model. Or they can scale a sculpture up. From a small model to any size. So this world is divided into designers (artists) and those who do the carving.
Again, with directions, and pointing, and gesturing about marble carving craftsman school, I find the school. I ask as best as I can about marble carving (marmo sculturo courso). Turns out this is the last day of classes before spring break. And there is one last marble lab. Tonight at 6:40 PM. I get the name of the teacher. And I plan to return.
A good morning. I have class to look forward too. Just hope the teacher will let me watch.
==============
==========
Monday 5 April (continued)
==========
Siena . . .
At the Cathederal Museum (Museo Opera), I find some great things.
An original and weather worn sculpture by Giovanni Pismo. I especially like the hair and the lion.
And they have the floor design of the church documented. Think it might have been documented after it was installed. There is a 1 to 100 scale drawing that shows the entire design. Then there are detailed sheets (about 1 to 10 scale). So I am able to get an idea of the parts that are currently covered over in the church.
Also see a requilary - a fancy container that holds a religious relic - and it has an entire skeleton in it. All nicely done up with ribbons. Seems very strange to me. It is the skeleton of SanClemente the 17th.
Then I pass a sculpture of a sleeping child. This is so well done I expect to see it breathing. It seems as if the child might awaken at any moment. This is also a must see; carved by Giovanni Dupree. Besides, it is next door to another must see. And it is on the way to the tower.
I climb the tower. The view is beyond post card. There are vineyeards, orchards, green hills and fiels, blue sky and distant mountains, white clouds, villas, the town with tile roofs (they are a brownish color - not as dark as those in Florence).
From the tower, I can also see that one unsupported column on the church is buckling. There are steel tie rods in place to keep it from falling.
I do the 360 degree tour. In every direction, it looks like it could be 300 or 400 years ago. There is only one building in sight that is modern looking. Time has mostly passed this place by.
Done with my sight seeing, I ventuer off for dinner. Siena is crowded with tours - even in April. I find a Medioevo place called Gallo Nero (means black cat). This place is great. It is like going back 500 years. And it is geared for us tourists. And they have done well - created an entire environment. We go down into a dungeon to eat. The ceilings are arched. All stone and brick. We eat by candle light. The waiters are in costume tunics. There is flute and drum music playing.
Dinner starts with feast bread and spiced mulled wine (cloves). The feast bread has ground rasins and ground fennel in it. Yum. I get pea soup. And also the ribolitta - since that is a local soup (tomato, beans, cabbage, spinich, carrot, and garlic.
The rice has spices and almonds - old flavors. Comes with some kind of small game bird (quail).
Desert is a pear tart with ricotta and honey. A very nice way to top off a double don't miss day. The view from the tower could be a third. Yeah, hill towns.
Nite, nite.
============
Monday 5 April (continued)
==========
Siena . . .
At the Cathederal Museum (Museo Opera), I find some great things.
An original and weather worn sculpture by Giovanni Pismo. I especially like the hair and the lion.
And they have the floor design of the church documented. Think it might have been documented after it was installed. There is a 1 to 100 scale drawing that shows the entire design. Then there are detailed sheets (about 1 to 10 scale). So I am able to get an idea of the parts that are currently covered over in the church.
Also see a requilary - a fancy container that holds a religious relic - and it has an entire skeleton in it. All nicely done up with ribbons. Seems very strange to me. It is the skeleton of SanClemente the 17th.
Then I pass a sculpture of a sleeping child. This is so well done I expect to see it breathing. It seems as if the child might awaken at any moment. This is also a must see; carved by Giovanni Dupree. Besides, it is next door to another must see. And it is on the way to the tower.
I climb the tower. The view is beyond post card. There are vineyeards, orchards, green hills and fiels, blue sky and distant mountains, white clouds, villas, the town with tile roofs (they are a brownish color - not as dark as those in Florence).
From the tower, I can also see that one unsupported column on the church is buckling. There are steel tie rods in place to keep it from falling.
I do the 360 degree tour. In every direction, it looks like it could be 300 or 400 years ago. There is only one building in sight that is modern looking. Time has mostly passed this place by.
Done with my sight seeing, I ventuer off for dinner. Siena is crowded with tours - even in April. I find a Medioevo place called Gallo Nero (means black cat). This place is great. It is like going back 500 years. And it is geared for us tourists. And they have done well - created an entire environment. We go down into a dungeon to eat. The ceilings are arched. All stone and brick. We eat by candle light. The waiters are in costume tunics. There is flute and drum music playing.
Dinner starts with feast bread and spiced mulled wine (cloves). The feast bread has ground rasins and ground fennel in it. Yum. I get pea soup. And also the ribolitta - since that is a local soup (tomato, beans, cabbage, spinich, carrot, and garlic.
The rice has spices and almonds - old flavors. Comes with some kind of small game bird (quail).
Desert is a pear tart with ricotta and honey. A very nice way to top off a double don't miss day. The view from the tower could be a third. Yeah, hill towns.
Nite, nite.
============
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
================
Monday 5 April (continued)
==========
Siena . . .
See some paving stone workers. Working with stones that are about 8 inches by 12. Not the smaller cobbles stones. They move them around by walking them - tilting them up and then tipping the stone so that all the weight is on one corner, and then pivoting the other corner forward, alternating sides so that the stones gets walked over to its place. No lifting. Another guy scooped in some grout so that was there underneath. They also wet the sides of the stone. Fill in the edges with grout. And then they pound on the stone with a long steel rod to settle it into place. Perfect fit.
Go to my priority sight here, which is the Duomo. It was built - or at least started - in 1179! This is my top site because this church has sculptures by Michelangelo and Bernini.
The Duomo has stripes of dark green. Every other lift was with a dark green stone. Alternated with white marble. The church has a square tower and a round dome.
The floors here are fabulous. Most of them are covered. They have pictures outlined into them. And have large inlaid pieces - depicting bible scenes. It is dark inside the church. The columns inside are also striped. And there are sculptures of popes' heads all around the top of the church inside.
I go into a side chapel - Modonna del Vito - WOW! Of course, this must be Bernini's work. Turns out it is. Two full sized sculptures. One of Mary Magdalene, one of St Gerome. As a pair, their forms and poses complement each other. Makes it a great day. This makes it to my must see list. A trip to Siena would be worthwhile just for this chapel.
These sculpture look great dirty. In places, the surface has a rougher texture. More dirt accumulates here. Gives it more contrast. The patina looks nice. These have aged well. These are a must see, even if it means going to the library and looking at a picture. That gives two diemensions. 3-D is is close to a religious experience.
I locate the Michelangelos. Peter's hands are great - the one on the right. But somehow, after the Bernini's, they just don't have the impact.
Next stop, the Cathederal Museum.
============================
Monday 5 April (continued)
==========
Siena . . .
See some paving stone workers. Working with stones that are about 8 inches by 12. Not the smaller cobbles stones. They move them around by walking them - tilting them up and then tipping the stone so that all the weight is on one corner, and then pivoting the other corner forward, alternating sides so that the stones gets walked over to its place. No lifting. Another guy scooped in some grout so that was there underneath. They also wet the sides of the stone. Fill in the edges with grout. And then they pound on the stone with a long steel rod to settle it into place. Perfect fit.
Go to my priority sight here, which is the Duomo. It was built - or at least started - in 1179! This is my top site because this church has sculptures by Michelangelo and Bernini.
The Duomo has stripes of dark green. Every other lift was with a dark green stone. Alternated with white marble. The church has a square tower and a round dome.
The floors here are fabulous. Most of them are covered. They have pictures outlined into them. And have large inlaid pieces - depicting bible scenes. It is dark inside the church. The columns inside are also striped. And there are sculptures of popes' heads all around the top of the church inside.
I go into a side chapel - Modonna del Vito - WOW! Of course, this must be Bernini's work. Turns out it is. Two full sized sculptures. One of Mary Magdalene, one of St Gerome. As a pair, their forms and poses complement each other. Makes it a great day. This makes it to my must see list. A trip to Siena would be worthwhile just for this chapel.
These sculpture look great dirty. In places, the surface has a rougher texture. More dirt accumulates here. Gives it more contrast. The patina looks nice. These have aged well. These are a must see, even if it means going to the library and looking at a picture. That gives two diemensions. 3-D is is close to a religious experience.
I locate the Michelangelos. Peter's hands are great - the one on the right. But somehow, after the Bernini's, they just don't have the impact.
Next stop, the Cathederal Museum.
============================
================
Monday 5 April
==========
Assisi . . . to Siena
The plan is to take a bus from Assisi to Siena.
I have breakfast with fellow traveler Margarita from Uraguay. She ventures off to the train station on foot. I venture off to the bus stop, to take the local bus to a transfer point near the train station. Figure there is less a chance of loosing my way.
I get directions to the bus stop. And walk down the hill. Takes me a while to find it. Just a small orange sign. And there was and extra turn in there, not in the directions I wrote down from the reception desk person.
The bus comes. I try to ask if the bus goes to the Churh near the train station. By pointing to the destination I have written on the ticket (not yet validated - have to punch it once I get on the bus). The bus driver starts yelling at me in Italian. I finally figure out he is bothered by the directions I wrote on the bus ticket. So I guess he is asking who wrote on the ticket. I say I did. He is still upset. Asking me something over and over, in Italian, louder and louder. Oh my. I finally figure he might be asking why. So I say it is directions to the bus stop - to find my way. He is still upset, but lets me on the bus. I validate my ticket and sit down. Not a good start to the day.
Not being understood is getting old. Having to rely on someone understanding some English is also getting old. And it seems silly to me that he is upset about me writing on the ticket. I figure I am doing good just to get where I need to go. And to get the proper tickets from the proper place, and get the ticket punched (some places it has to be before boarding, other times upon boarding). So his being upset does not feel like a welcome. Does not feel pax. Where's that olive branch? I wanted to bring some home, but figured that the Agriculture folks at Customs wouldn't approve.
Meanwhile I haven't recognized anything that looks like the train station. And we are getting further away from a church. I know the church I want to see is near the train station. I am planning to go see it before boarding the train. It is the church where St Francis started his order.
So I ask someone on the bus (in Italian), where the train station is. Sure enough, we passed it already. So I push the stop button and get off at the next stop. And walk back to the church. So it turns out, I took the bus. And walked further than Margarita did. At least it was a straight shot back to the church. No chance of getting lost. And it does turn out to be the church I want to see.
This is the little bit of land that was granted to St Francis when the Pope figured out that it was better to give in to the guy than fight him. Which was good for St Fancis. Meant no more chance of heresy. Less chance of becoming a martyr. And the order continues to thrive.
The little church that St Francis used is still standing. This big newer church was built around the old little one. It stands cutely inside. A small beginning.
So meanwhile, my pen ran out of ink. You know, from writing too much on the bus ticket. So that is my next task upon getting into town. You know you are looking a bit like a vagabond when you go into the store trying to buy a pen, gesturing to your old pen with a questioning look, and the propietor thinks you are a bum peddling pens, instead of a customer wanting to buy one.
I eventually find a store that had some pens on dislay. I kept mine in my pocket this time. Bic is it.
Then I find the bus stop for the long distance bus. Did it this way since taking a train would have reuired at least two changes and a few more hours of time. The bus goes directly to Siena. It turns out to be a private operation. Not a public transport bus. These guys are also not happy with me. Wheres your ticket? I was told I HAD to buy it on the bus. No, you are supposed to buy it at a travel agency. Not at a tobacco shop like the public transportation tickets. So you have to pay a penalty. Somehow this would sound better if they just told me the price and skipped the whole penalty thing. Or maybe just mentioned that there is a discount for buying it at the travel agant.
So I get on this bus and get on my way to Siena. Glad to be on my way.
Did I mention that the moon was close to full last night. I nice walk through the olive orchards home after the soccer game.
Today, the sky is blue with bright white clouds. Sunny. Yet cool. The ride to Siena is a few hours. Bus seems insulated compared to the trains. I like the trains better. But I am glad for a direct trip. No connections to make. I actually get there fine. And I get off at the right town. The highway signs help.
Siena is now home.
=======================
Monday 5 April
==========
Assisi . . . to Siena
The plan is to take a bus from Assisi to Siena.
I have breakfast with fellow traveler Margarita from Uraguay. She ventures off to the train station on foot. I venture off to the bus stop, to take the local bus to a transfer point near the train station. Figure there is less a chance of loosing my way.
I get directions to the bus stop. And walk down the hill. Takes me a while to find it. Just a small orange sign. And there was and extra turn in there, not in the directions I wrote down from the reception desk person.
The bus comes. I try to ask if the bus goes to the Churh near the train station. By pointing to the destination I have written on the ticket (not yet validated - have to punch it once I get on the bus). The bus driver starts yelling at me in Italian. I finally figure out he is bothered by the directions I wrote on the bus ticket. So I guess he is asking who wrote on the ticket. I say I did. He is still upset. Asking me something over and over, in Italian, louder and louder. Oh my. I finally figure he might be asking why. So I say it is directions to the bus stop - to find my way. He is still upset, but lets me on the bus. I validate my ticket and sit down. Not a good start to the day.
Not being understood is getting old. Having to rely on someone understanding some English is also getting old. And it seems silly to me that he is upset about me writing on the ticket. I figure I am doing good just to get where I need to go. And to get the proper tickets from the proper place, and get the ticket punched (some places it has to be before boarding, other times upon boarding). So his being upset does not feel like a welcome. Does not feel pax. Where's that olive branch? I wanted to bring some home, but figured that the Agriculture folks at Customs wouldn't approve.
Meanwhile I haven't recognized anything that looks like the train station. And we are getting further away from a church. I know the church I want to see is near the train station. I am planning to go see it before boarding the train. It is the church where St Francis started his order.
So I ask someone on the bus (in Italian), where the train station is. Sure enough, we passed it already. So I push the stop button and get off at the next stop. And walk back to the church. So it turns out, I took the bus. And walked further than Margarita did. At least it was a straight shot back to the church. No chance of getting lost. And it does turn out to be the church I want to see.
This is the little bit of land that was granted to St Francis when the Pope figured out that it was better to give in to the guy than fight him. Which was good for St Fancis. Meant no more chance of heresy. Less chance of becoming a martyr. And the order continues to thrive.
The little church that St Francis used is still standing. This big newer church was built around the old little one. It stands cutely inside. A small beginning.
So meanwhile, my pen ran out of ink. You know, from writing too much on the bus ticket. So that is my next task upon getting into town. You know you are looking a bit like a vagabond when you go into the store trying to buy a pen, gesturing to your old pen with a questioning look, and the propietor thinks you are a bum peddling pens, instead of a customer wanting to buy one.
I eventually find a store that had some pens on dislay. I kept mine in my pocket this time. Bic is it.
Then I find the bus stop for the long distance bus. Did it this way since taking a train would have reuired at least two changes and a few more hours of time. The bus goes directly to Siena. It turns out to be a private operation. Not a public transport bus. These guys are also not happy with me. Wheres your ticket? I was told I HAD to buy it on the bus. No, you are supposed to buy it at a travel agency. Not at a tobacco shop like the public transportation tickets. So you have to pay a penalty. Somehow this would sound better if they just told me the price and skipped the whole penalty thing. Or maybe just mentioned that there is a discount for buying it at the travel agant.
So I get on this bus and get on my way to Siena. Glad to be on my way.
Did I mention that the moon was close to full last night. I nice walk through the olive orchards home after the soccer game.
Today, the sky is blue with bright white clouds. Sunny. Yet cool. The ride to Siena is a few hours. Bus seems insulated compared to the trains. I like the trains better. But I am glad for a direct trip. No connections to make. I actually get there fine. And I get off at the right town. The highway signs help.
Siena is now home.
=======================
Friday, April 16, 2004
===========
Sunday 4 April (completed . . . ran out of web time)
==========
Assisi . . .
High fog. Fresh air. Green fields. We are up on a hill.
Time seems to have passed this place by.
The chuches have side chapels built into them. These niches are nice and intimate. I wonder why houses don't make use of this design feature. All the space is connected in side the building, yet, it seems separate. Intimate space, yet connected.
The stone here is light. Has a pinkish cast. Then there is a lighter white variety. Has a slight greenish cast. Very calming soothing colors.
There is a hint of incense, from the prior celebrations/services.
The floors are polished from wear. I hear music from above. Have I mentioned the great accoustics? I guess the bare rock walls do not absorb sound. So it carries well, and reverberates.
Many arches. And in the ceiling, where four arches meet, there is a cross. I saw structures like this in Charlestown, South Carolina. In the dungeon there. Built in the 1600's. Seems strong and stable. Would make a great basement, and foundation. Even with all that brick overhead, it seems sound and solid - protected.
Above eye level, along the walls are rock ledges. Lights run along these. And they light up the wall above the ledge. Looks great. Another nice design feature to incorporate in homes. Soft and warm.
It is Sunday. People coming to church have olive branches. I wonder if this is the tradition here because of St Francis, the tau (Greek letter) and pax (peace in Latin) guy. No, turns out it is Palm Sunday. So olive branches are used since they are in ready supply. And here and there are some palm brances. Including in the procession of monks and priests. Don´t know if the olive pruning I saw upon my arrival yesterday took place in order to provide these brances, or if it is time to prune anyway. Anyway, I like the effect. Olive branch Sunday. This is how I will remener Assisi.
Now there is a low fog. No views as before. The hilltop is shrouded in fog.
The entire church is a monument to St Francis. He is buried underneath the church. Surrounded by four of his best friends. No wonder this traditon continues. It is quite impressive.
After services, I climb the hill further into town. And find a wonderful bakery shop. Concetta is the propritor. I get panpepato (a spiced panforte) and panforte al mazapane (with marzipan). And Torrone - almonds with honey and agg whites. OK, OK. I know I went over my limit of two. But the Torrone was just a taste. And then Concetta gives me a fourth - something to try. And I was really looking for my salty course first!
I find the Roman Foro. An old forum from long ago. Now it has a neighborhood build around it. Without the guide book to point it out, I would have never guessed.
And I climb up to Rocca Maggore. The big castle. Great view. The fog has burned off. There are mountains in the backgound - behind a flat green plain. Picture postcard from here.
Next, I go down the hill to the San Rufino Church. In places, they have installed glass in the floors. This shows the old foundations beneath the church. How it was built on old structures. Old, old here. And extra old below.
The treat from Concetta is a pie like pastry crust with fennel seeds then filled with plum. Mmm good.
Gellato treat is peach and berry.
And since I ate some of the pastries, I figure I can stock up some more. This time, I am only one over-limit. And then Concetta gives me some Easter Holiday bread to try. So I am back to being two over limit. Well, I am glad I didn't give up bakery goods for lent.
Dinner is pasta with game bird sauce, beef with artichokes. And all at a place with a non-smoking area! Very unusual, and appreciated.
Then on the way home, I stop in at the bakery again. Concetta is still working. SInce there are still plenty of toursits out on such a nice evening. As proprietor, she startede her day at 6 am. Worked at the shop for over 10 hours. And now she is going to go help her sister with some work. Very strong. Very dedicated. Hardy stock here.
So I say my Ciao to Concetta, and head home. Down the hill.
Just before my turn off into the olive orchards, I notice a large crowd inside a pub. I go investigate. They are all watching a live soccer game. Must be a regular scheduled event here - Sunday night soccer. The score is 1 zero (or 2 to 1). I watch for about half an hour. Lots of action and foot work. And shots. No goals scored.
The best part was when this completely bald referee over-ruled the other referees, and red carded a played. Every one was yelling at this ref. He took it all in stride. With serene confidence. He must have the last word, even without saying anything further.
The crowd is furious. And egtting louder. The star player has to leave the game for good. He removes his shoes, and then starts to walk off the field. Then the slow motion replay is shown. ANd it clearly shows this guy kicking the other played in the knees. Knocked him off his feet. So the crowd is somewhat appeased. The referee made a good call. He knew what he saw.
I later see this referee on a poster, endorsing some product (not allowed for US referees). And someone later tells me he is the best referee in the entire sport. So it was a lucky treat to see him in action.
Then home to bed. Really. It is getting late, so I don't stay out to see the final outcome of the game.
Nite nite.
Sunday 4 April (completed . . . ran out of web time)
==========
Assisi . . .
High fog. Fresh air. Green fields. We are up on a hill.
Time seems to have passed this place by.
The chuches have side chapels built into them. These niches are nice and intimate. I wonder why houses don't make use of this design feature. All the space is connected in side the building, yet, it seems separate. Intimate space, yet connected.
The stone here is light. Has a pinkish cast. Then there is a lighter white variety. Has a slight greenish cast. Very calming soothing colors.
There is a hint of incense, from the prior celebrations/services.
The floors are polished from wear. I hear music from above. Have I mentioned the great accoustics? I guess the bare rock walls do not absorb sound. So it carries well, and reverberates.
Many arches. And in the ceiling, where four arches meet, there is a cross. I saw structures like this in Charlestown, South Carolina. In the dungeon there. Built in the 1600's. Seems strong and stable. Would make a great basement, and foundation. Even with all that brick overhead, it seems sound and solid - protected.
Above eye level, along the walls are rock ledges. Lights run along these. And they light up the wall above the ledge. Looks great. Another nice design feature to incorporate in homes. Soft and warm.
It is Sunday. People coming to church have olive branches. I wonder if this is the tradition here because of St Francis, the tau (Greek letter) and pax (peace in Latin) guy. No, turns out it is Palm Sunday. So olive branches are used since they are in ready supply. And here and there are some palm brances. Including in the procession of monks and priests. Don´t know if the olive pruning I saw upon my arrival yesterday took place in order to provide these brances, or if it is time to prune anyway. Anyway, I like the effect. Olive branch Sunday. This is how I will remener Assisi.
Now there is a low fog. No views as before. The hilltop is shrouded in fog.
The entire church is a monument to St Francis. He is buried underneath the church. Surrounded by four of his best friends. No wonder this traditon continues. It is quite impressive.
After services, I climb the hill further into town. And find a wonderful bakery shop. Concetta is the propritor. I get panpepato (a spiced panforte) and panforte al mazapane (with marzipan). And Torrone - almonds with honey and agg whites. OK, OK. I know I went over my limit of two. But the Torrone was just a taste. And then Concetta gives me a fourth - something to try. And I was really looking for my salty course first!
I find the Roman Foro. An old forum from long ago. Now it has a neighborhood build around it. Without the guide book to point it out, I would have never guessed.
And I climb up to Rocca Maggore. The big castle. Great view. The fog has burned off. There are mountains in the backgound - behind a flat green plain. Picture postcard from here.
Next, I go down the hill to the San Rufino Church. In places, they have installed glass in the floors. This shows the old foundations beneath the church. How it was built on old structures. Old, old here. And extra old below.
The treat from Concetta is a pie like pastry crust with fennel seeds then filled with plum. Mmm good.
Gellato treat is peach and berry.
And since I ate some of the pastries, I figure I can stock up some more. This time, I am only one over-limit. And then Concetta gives me some Easter Holiday bread to try. So I am back to being two over limit. Well, I am glad I didn't give up bakery goods for lent.
Dinner is pasta with game bird sauce, beef with artichokes. And all at a place with a non-smoking area! Very unusual, and appreciated.
Then on the way home, I stop in at the bakery again. Concetta is still working. SInce there are still plenty of toursits out on such a nice evening. As proprietor, she startede her day at 6 am. Worked at the shop for over 10 hours. And now she is going to go help her sister with some work. Very strong. Very dedicated. Hardy stock here.
So I say my Ciao to Concetta, and head home. Down the hill.
Just before my turn off into the olive orchards, I notice a large crowd inside a pub. I go investigate. They are all watching a live soccer game. Must be a regular scheduled event here - Sunday night soccer. The score is 1 zero (or 2 to 1). I watch for about half an hour. Lots of action and foot work. And shots. No goals scored.
The best part was when this completely bald referee over-ruled the other referees, and red carded a played. Every one was yelling at this ref. He took it all in stride. With serene confidence. He must have the last word, even without saying anything further.
The crowd is furious. And egtting louder. The star player has to leave the game for good. He removes his shoes, and then starts to walk off the field. Then the slow motion replay is shown. ANd it clearly shows this guy kicking the other played in the knees. Knocked him off his feet. So the crowd is somewhat appeased. The referee made a good call. He knew what he saw.
I later see this referee on a poster, endorsing some product (not allowed for US referees). And someone later tells me he is the best referee in the entire sport. So it was a lucky treat to see him in action.
Then home to bed. Really. It is getting late, so I don't stay out to see the final outcome of the game.
Nite nite.
===============
Saturday 3 April
===========
Roma to ? somewhere . . .
Cool sunny. Waken to a loud band playing. Protesters.
Turns out it is thousands of pensioners, protesting changes being proposed in benefits. The US isn't the only one with looming and impossible to continue as is Social Security type situation. Italy has a strategic advantage here. Being helped by Marlboro man. The life expectancy in Italy has got to be lower by at least 5 or 10 years just because of the smoking and the second hand smoke exposure. So their pension funds won't have as large a draw on them. Might make the chances for eventual solvency much improved.
Foamed milk for breakfast (latte bianco).
Then off to the butcher shop - bye to Giuseppe. Also bye to Artur. And later, bye to Noel when we crossed paths (me lost on my way to the Pantheon). Something I want to see before leaving town today.
Glad I made the effort. I had seen it from the outside at night. But inside, WOW. This is an interior intact from 200 years ago. The barbarians left it alone. So it didn't get stripped of all its marble. So extrapolating to the coliseum, the forum, and Pallentine hill, this was some impressive place. Without seeing the Pantheon, I couldn't have pictured it.
Had I mentioned the Bernini work in St Peter's? I like his marble work much better. The bronze work didn't do anything for me. One big piece was the canopy in the middle of the church that is over the grave of St Peter. And it is where the sermons are given. It is huge. SO huge, that when it was being cast, all the available bronze was consumed. There was no more available to complete the work. So the Pope at the time said, hey, didn't I see some big bronze panels in the ceiling of the Pantheon? Use that. So the 1600 (or more) year old cast bronze panels were removed from the Pantheon and melted down to make this canopy in St Peter's. These things had survived the dark ages, barbarians, all kinds of times, but no the designs of a church. Seems to me that destruction of antiquities is criminal. Ought to be a law against it. But I guess it has gone on forever.
Have I mentioned traffic in Rome? Chaos, and go, and yield. I am getting into the flow. I am even winked at by a driver as I stepped in front of his car. His way of saying, it's OK, you go ahead and go on by, its OK. All in an instant. It's a smooth blend. Glad I wasn't mis-reading - or I would be flat, or at least dented.
I walk by some ruins called Argentine. The ruins are down a level - as in 15 feet. Over 2000 years, the level of the city has increased that much.
Had I mentioned congestion? As in mine? In my lungs. It has mostly cleared up for me. Maybe I am getting better at avoiding some of the second hand smoke. And trying to not get dried out at night.
I am craving those oranges - from Sicily. Sure are good. And maybe I need the vitamin C. A necessary nutrient on these long voyages, to avoid scurvy.
The sewer covers long ago were round stones. Not metal, but stone!
I look down on the spot 15 feet below, where Julius Cesar was assassinated on 15 March 44 BC.
Go by a church to see some sculpture. Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. Michelangelo's Redentore (or something like that). And Bernini's monument to a cardinal. Not must sees in my book. Glad I found them though.
So I finally make to Pantheon (discussed earlier). It was constructed in 27 BC, under Augustus. The hole in the top is open Designed that way. There are drain holes in the floor. Unobtrusive. The top most part of the dome is made of pumice. Quite an engineering feat.
This is Raphael's grave. And also from prominent Italian leaders. So this too is a monument. In this case, built long before those entombed here. But for sure, following the monument theme.
There are two square holes cut inside. I think these were the holes mentioned in the guide book. I imagined small holes. These are window sized. Big enough for a man to crawl through. Someone gave permission back in 1600 or so for the then leading dome Engineer to explore the structure, so that discoveries could be made and then put to use in building domes to meet or exceed this one in size.
Have I mention the inside of this Pantheon? Wow!. All marble - floors, walls. All different colors.
Off to lunch at the Trevi fountain - Neptune. A great spot in town. Just have to go back before departing.
Then decide on Assisi. So I go to catch the train there. The scenery from the train could be mistaken for Eugene. Same kind of colors and land.
The conductor is coming to check tickets. Oops. I forgot to validate mine. You have to buy it. And then stamp it too. This is a first. Very embarrassing. He was nice about it. Thank goodness. I do want to follow the local ways. And luckily the conductor doesn't turn it into a tourist horror story. Thank you for helping make my visit go well.
I catch the bus from the train and then walk from the bus stop to my place (I hope). With some help with directions given in Italian. The hand gestures make all the difference. So I hope to remember to give hand gestures to anyone asking for directions. Because, yes, I know how to ask for directions in Italian. But I don't understand one word of the reply. But somehow it works. And maybe I am beginning to understand right and left.
On my walk, the sunset is superb - a big red ball of a sun. No other pink. Just a nice dark blue sky as background. As I walk through an olive orchard. With recent pruning, as there are stacks of branches here and there.
I get to my place just after dinner started. They don't know if they have room, but they let me stay for dinner. I meet a group of students from Sweden. Atuidaberg - with an umlaut on the A. 200 kilometers from Stockholm. Hey there Joakim, Kim (long), Jard, Christian, Bjorn (means bear, just like Bern).
Dinner is great, and to my relief, with a bit of juggling, and accommodation, there is room for me at the Inn. So I have a place to call home.
As it turns out, I stay with the group I had dinner with. They are on a spring break trip. Going to Rome. Get to see a big football (soccer) game tomorrow. This is the first time they have slept in a bed in two days. They accommodate me by speaking mostly English. They all give it a try. They are quite nice to me for having been put into their adolescent midsts. Upon lights out, they shift into Swedish for their goodnights. It is like John Boy. Goodnights all around. I fall asleep knowing the world will be fine and in very good hands with youths like these coming along, close to adulthood. So there are other places in the world where families raise there children well. Sweden is for sure one of those places. And I rest well, knowing that since I have discovered this one more, there are likely many others, an all continents. Things will be fine. Yes, there will be problems. And yes, there will be kind, and responsible people there to help solve the problems, and to continue to strive to make this world a better place. And yes, to raise good families in turn.
Nite nite. And thanks guys. For the night's rest. And most of all, for peace of mind.
=======================
Saturday 3 April
===========
Roma to ? somewhere . . .
Cool sunny. Waken to a loud band playing. Protesters.
Turns out it is thousands of pensioners, protesting changes being proposed in benefits. The US isn't the only one with looming and impossible to continue as is Social Security type situation. Italy has a strategic advantage here. Being helped by Marlboro man. The life expectancy in Italy has got to be lower by at least 5 or 10 years just because of the smoking and the second hand smoke exposure. So their pension funds won't have as large a draw on them. Might make the chances for eventual solvency much improved.
Foamed milk for breakfast (latte bianco).
Then off to the butcher shop - bye to Giuseppe. Also bye to Artur. And later, bye to Noel when we crossed paths (me lost on my way to the Pantheon). Something I want to see before leaving town today.
Glad I made the effort. I had seen it from the outside at night. But inside, WOW. This is an interior intact from 200 years ago. The barbarians left it alone. So it didn't get stripped of all its marble. So extrapolating to the coliseum, the forum, and Pallentine hill, this was some impressive place. Without seeing the Pantheon, I couldn't have pictured it.
Had I mentioned the Bernini work in St Peter's? I like his marble work much better. The bronze work didn't do anything for me. One big piece was the canopy in the middle of the church that is over the grave of St Peter. And it is where the sermons are given. It is huge. SO huge, that when it was being cast, all the available bronze was consumed. There was no more available to complete the work. So the Pope at the time said, hey, didn't I see some big bronze panels in the ceiling of the Pantheon? Use that. So the 1600 (or more) year old cast bronze panels were removed from the Pantheon and melted down to make this canopy in St Peter's. These things had survived the dark ages, barbarians, all kinds of times, but no the designs of a church. Seems to me that destruction of antiquities is criminal. Ought to be a law against it. But I guess it has gone on forever.
Have I mentioned traffic in Rome? Chaos, and go, and yield. I am getting into the flow. I am even winked at by a driver as I stepped in front of his car. His way of saying, it's OK, you go ahead and go on by, its OK. All in an instant. It's a smooth blend. Glad I wasn't mis-reading - or I would be flat, or at least dented.
I walk by some ruins called Argentine. The ruins are down a level - as in 15 feet. Over 2000 years, the level of the city has increased that much.
Had I mentioned congestion? As in mine? In my lungs. It has mostly cleared up for me. Maybe I am getting better at avoiding some of the second hand smoke. And trying to not get dried out at night.
I am craving those oranges - from Sicily. Sure are good. And maybe I need the vitamin C. A necessary nutrient on these long voyages, to avoid scurvy.
The sewer covers long ago were round stones. Not metal, but stone!
I look down on the spot 15 feet below, where Julius Cesar was assassinated on 15 March 44 BC.
Go by a church to see some sculpture. Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. Michelangelo's Redentore (or something like that). And Bernini's monument to a cardinal. Not must sees in my book. Glad I found them though.
So I finally make to Pantheon (discussed earlier). It was constructed in 27 BC, under Augustus. The hole in the top is open Designed that way. There are drain holes in the floor. Unobtrusive. The top most part of the dome is made of pumice. Quite an engineering feat.
This is Raphael's grave. And also from prominent Italian leaders. So this too is a monument. In this case, built long before those entombed here. But for sure, following the monument theme.
There are two square holes cut inside. I think these were the holes mentioned in the guide book. I imagined small holes. These are window sized. Big enough for a man to crawl through. Someone gave permission back in 1600 or so for the then leading dome Engineer to explore the structure, so that discoveries could be made and then put to use in building domes to meet or exceed this one in size.
Have I mention the inside of this Pantheon? Wow!. All marble - floors, walls. All different colors.
Off to lunch at the Trevi fountain - Neptune. A great spot in town. Just have to go back before departing.
Then decide on Assisi. So I go to catch the train there. The scenery from the train could be mistaken for Eugene. Same kind of colors and land.
The conductor is coming to check tickets. Oops. I forgot to validate mine. You have to buy it. And then stamp it too. This is a first. Very embarrassing. He was nice about it. Thank goodness. I do want to follow the local ways. And luckily the conductor doesn't turn it into a tourist horror story. Thank you for helping make my visit go well.
I catch the bus from the train and then walk from the bus stop to my place (I hope). With some help with directions given in Italian. The hand gestures make all the difference. So I hope to remember to give hand gestures to anyone asking for directions. Because, yes, I know how to ask for directions in Italian. But I don't understand one word of the reply. But somehow it works. And maybe I am beginning to understand right and left.
On my walk, the sunset is superb - a big red ball of a sun. No other pink. Just a nice dark blue sky as background. As I walk through an olive orchard. With recent pruning, as there are stacks of branches here and there.
I get to my place just after dinner started. They don't know if they have room, but they let me stay for dinner. I meet a group of students from Sweden. Atuidaberg - with an umlaut on the A. 200 kilometers from Stockholm. Hey there Joakim, Kim (long), Jard, Christian, Bjorn (means bear, just like Bern).
Dinner is great, and to my relief, with a bit of juggling, and accommodation, there is room for me at the Inn. So I have a place to call home.
As it turns out, I stay with the group I had dinner with. They are on a spring break trip. Going to Rome. Get to see a big football (soccer) game tomorrow. This is the first time they have slept in a bed in two days. They accommodate me by speaking mostly English. They all give it a try. They are quite nice to me for having been put into their adolescent midsts. Upon lights out, they shift into Swedish for their goodnights. It is like John Boy. Goodnights all around. I fall asleep knowing the world will be fine and in very good hands with youths like these coming along, close to adulthood. So there are other places in the world where families raise there children well. Sweden is for sure one of those places. And I rest well, knowing that since I have discovered this one more, there are likely many others, an all continents. Things will be fine. Yes, there will be problems. And yes, there will be kind, and responsible people there to help solve the problems, and to continue to strive to make this world a better place. And yes, to raise good families in turn.
Nite nite. And thanks guys. For the night's rest. And most of all, for peace of mind.
=======================
===========
Friday 2 April
========
Roma . . .
Sunny, warm. T-shirt weather.
Meet fellow traveler Artur at the caffe stand. Did I mention his bad Roma experience?
Off to the Vatican Museum today. I got through security just fine. Including x-ray scanning. Then I was looking for my admission money. Couldn't find it. So I started extracting things from my ruck sack. I was sure I stuffed it in right on top just before sending my bag through x-ray.
Have I mentioned change? Anything under 5 euro is given entirely in change. Not too handy when going through a metal detector. So I stuffed all my coins in my ruck sack, including a 10 euro bill that was to go toward my admission.
Anyway, this uniformed and armed security guard starts yelling some word over and over in Italian. All of a sudden, I am surrounded by three of them. Not the fancy dressed Swiss Guards. These guy were SWAT. Well, when looking for my bill, I heedlessly extracted my trusty Swiss army knife. They thought I had gotten around security and was pulling it out for nefarious purposes. He figured out I had no idea what they were saying, so he switched to English. Turns out he was yelling something like "knife, knife" in Italian, as an alert.
I explained that I had come through security, including having my ruck sack scanned, and I was looking for my 10 euro bill that I last saw just before putting my bag through the scanner. He calmed down, and said come this way. So I got hauled off to an office where all I had to do was check my knife for the visit. No shots fired. No blood shed. Then I am leaving the office with my claim check, and the guy comes back with two young women. One of them found my bill. I think it stayed in the cozy scanner for some extra rays. I thanked them in my best Italian (words and manner). No kisses though.
So on to the exhibit. My favorite painting was a Leonardo. Unfinished. Notice a pattern here? Unfinished works appeal to me. This is of St Jerome. Ghostly - since much of it is just sketched in brown outlines. And this painting is actually restored - in that it had been in two pieces for centuries. A square section had been cut out - around the head. Some art expert saw it somewhere (like on a chair in a shop or something) and recognized it as the missing head of St Jerome painted by Leonardo. So the head got reunited. Good restoration work. The square is visible, but only when looking at an angle.
I like the early Greek stuff here - 5th century BC. Then even better, some Egyptian - 600 BC, then 1200 BC, then 2500 BC. Including a 3000 year old papyrus scroll. Now what is the Vatican doing with this stuff, I wonder?
I like the Raphael frescoes.
And two stunning contemporary bronze sculptures, by Ciminaghi - a woman I believe. Dated 1967. Will have to look into seeing some more of her work.
St George and the Dragon, by Bordone. Great stuff.
After all the rooms, end at the Sistine chapel. I like Michelangelo's sculpture better than his painting.
Then off to St Peter' Basilica. See the Pieta. Michelangelo completed this when he was 24. Took him three years. He finished painting the chapel when he was 33. That took four years.
And there are many a corpus of former popes. Seems a strange practice. Then an aha. This entire basilica is a monument to Peter. Because in addition to the Popes, Peter too lies here. In the center of the church. People come to worship and pay respects to Peter. Sanctified by the Vatican, thus a saint. This creates quite a draw. So too the Popes. It is an honor. So thus by practice, others follow the example and create those monuments I saw in Milano. They were not created as a matter of beliefs, but as a matter of practice and example. And human nature perhaps. Looking back to the Egyptians.
St Peter's Basilica is longer than the one in Florence. But it doesn't seem as big. Maybe Florence has more volume. Or the length of St Peter's makes it seem smaller, by illusion. St Peters is 186 meters long. Florence is 149 meters. This is all clearly marked on the floor - with brass embedded in marble. This takes the old "mine is longer than yours" to entirely new proportions.
Also, no building in Rome is allowed to be taller than St Peter's dome. Thus no skyscrapers. Rome spreads out, not up. This has helped it keeps its old world feel.
The artwork in St Peters is exquisite. Even more so when I realize that all the images are not paintings - they are mosaics - created with tiny bits of glassembeddedd in mortar. From 10 feet, they look like paintings.
Head home for a rooftop dinner. Fellow traveler Florian from Munich came to Rome for the coffee. Noel came from Sydney. Artur from Rio by way of London - also came for the coffee. Hey there guys. Dinner is great - especially the fresh pesto. And if we stand up, we can see the coliseum.
Dulce course follows downstairs with our smaller group - Sicilian blood oranges and some Sicilian distilled wine (sipping sweet). Ready for bed. After a great day. Great sights and tastes.
Nite nite.
=====================
Friday 2 April
========
Roma . . .
Sunny, warm. T-shirt weather.
Meet fellow traveler Artur at the caffe stand. Did I mention his bad Roma experience?
Off to the Vatican Museum today. I got through security just fine. Including x-ray scanning. Then I was looking for my admission money. Couldn't find it. So I started extracting things from my ruck sack. I was sure I stuffed it in right on top just before sending my bag through x-ray.
Have I mentioned change? Anything under 5 euro is given entirely in change. Not too handy when going through a metal detector. So I stuffed all my coins in my ruck sack, including a 10 euro bill that was to go toward my admission.
Anyway, this uniformed and armed security guard starts yelling some word over and over in Italian. All of a sudden, I am surrounded by three of them. Not the fancy dressed Swiss Guards. These guy were SWAT. Well, when looking for my bill, I heedlessly extracted my trusty Swiss army knife. They thought I had gotten around security and was pulling it out for nefarious purposes. He figured out I had no idea what they were saying, so he switched to English. Turns out he was yelling something like "knife, knife" in Italian, as an alert.
I explained that I had come through security, including having my ruck sack scanned, and I was looking for my 10 euro bill that I last saw just before putting my bag through the scanner. He calmed down, and said come this way. So I got hauled off to an office where all I had to do was check my knife for the visit. No shots fired. No blood shed. Then I am leaving the office with my claim check, and the guy comes back with two young women. One of them found my bill. I think it stayed in the cozy scanner for some extra rays. I thanked them in my best Italian (words and manner). No kisses though.
So on to the exhibit. My favorite painting was a Leonardo. Unfinished. Notice a pattern here? Unfinished works appeal to me. This is of St Jerome. Ghostly - since much of it is just sketched in brown outlines. And this painting is actually restored - in that it had been in two pieces for centuries. A square section had been cut out - around the head. Some art expert saw it somewhere (like on a chair in a shop or something) and recognized it as the missing head of St Jerome painted by Leonardo. So the head got reunited. Good restoration work. The square is visible, but only when looking at an angle.
I like the early Greek stuff here - 5th century BC. Then even better, some Egyptian - 600 BC, then 1200 BC, then 2500 BC. Including a 3000 year old papyrus scroll. Now what is the Vatican doing with this stuff, I wonder?
I like the Raphael frescoes.
And two stunning contemporary bronze sculptures, by Ciminaghi - a woman I believe. Dated 1967. Will have to look into seeing some more of her work.
St George and the Dragon, by Bordone. Great stuff.
After all the rooms, end at the Sistine chapel. I like Michelangelo's sculpture better than his painting.
Then off to St Peter' Basilica. See the Pieta. Michelangelo completed this when he was 24. Took him three years. He finished painting the chapel when he was 33. That took four years.
And there are many a corpus of former popes. Seems a strange practice. Then an aha. This entire basilica is a monument to Peter. Because in addition to the Popes, Peter too lies here. In the center of the church. People come to worship and pay respects to Peter. Sanctified by the Vatican, thus a saint. This creates quite a draw. So too the Popes. It is an honor. So thus by practice, others follow the example and create those monuments I saw in Milano. They were not created as a matter of beliefs, but as a matter of practice and example. And human nature perhaps. Looking back to the Egyptians.
St Peter's Basilica is longer than the one in Florence. But it doesn't seem as big. Maybe Florence has more volume. Or the length of St Peter's makes it seem smaller, by illusion. St Peters is 186 meters long. Florence is 149 meters. This is all clearly marked on the floor - with brass embedded in marble. This takes the old "mine is longer than yours" to entirely new proportions.
Also, no building in Rome is allowed to be taller than St Peter's dome. Thus no skyscrapers. Rome spreads out, not up. This has helped it keeps its old world feel.
The artwork in St Peters is exquisite. Even more so when I realize that all the images are not paintings - they are mosaics - created with tiny bits of glassembeddedd in mortar. From 10 feet, they look like paintings.
Head home for a rooftop dinner. Fellow traveler Florian from Munich came to Rome for the coffee. Noel came from Sydney. Artur from Rio by way of London - also came for the coffee. Hey there guys. Dinner is great - especially the fresh pesto. And if we stand up, we can see the coliseum.
Dulce course follows downstairs with our smaller group - Sicilian blood oranges and some Sicilian distilled wine (sipping sweet). Ready for bed. After a great day. Great sights and tastes.
Nite nite.
=====================
Saturday, April 10, 2004
==========
Thursday 1 April
===========
Roma . . .
Overcast. Not raining.
Go through my morning routine. Visit Giuseppe & Dario at the butcher shop. And go to a fruit store. The oranges are red inside. They are mild and have a slight pomegranate taste. Even the street beggars know me. They have their spots, and so as I pass, we share a familiar Buon Giorno.
I see some guys working on the street paving - re-installing the cobble stones. I am surprised to see that the are wedge shaped. Not square blocks. They loosen the sand and then pound in each wedge. Quite quickly. In an arched pattern - not in a straight line. There are curbstones ready to go in also. No concrete here. All stone work.
By now it is sunny. So I can do my outside sights today. But first, the Gallery Borghese, since I have a reservation time. This is a must see recommendation from Brian. And yes, it is excellent! There are many Bernini pieces. SO many over such a period that I conclude that there must have been a father and a son. Upon second review, it seems that there was just the one. He live a long time. And he did a variety of work. There is even a fire place (mantle) here that Bernini did. Here are some of the pieces: La Verita (Truth), Prosperina, Apollo and Daphne. This one has vines and leaves that look alive. How could they be carved without breaking? Wow.
This is a scheduled and timed visit. They clear the place out every two hours. I get done a little ahead of schedule, and go get my ruck sack out of storage. And go check out the gift shop. I brows through a book on the works of Bernini, and I notice one list for this gallery that I did not see. So I go back in - or at least try to. No ruck sack allowed. Have to re-check it. By now, there is a long line of folks checking bags for the next round. By the time I check my bag, my time slot will be over. I go up the stairs outside to the upper exit. I drop my bag in a corner on the balcony and go in. She lets me in because I have five minutes remaining. I encounter a guard, and I asked him where this sculpture is. I directs me to the exit. No, no, I plead. He says, ciouso - closed. So I appeal to the guard at the door. She says, it will be OK. She will let me back in later - after the change over. All this with limited English. So after the next round streams in, she lets me back in. I find the piece - a small one. And then scoot. I have her pick a stone from home. She picks a green one. And asks where it is from. I think California, so that's what I tell her. She is thrilled. Her daughter loves California. She will give it to her daughter. She thanks me - "by the heart". A very nice expression. So it is mutual. A great encounter.
I pass the American Embassy. It is guarded by Caribinieri, in bullet proof vest, with their fingers on the triggers of sub-machine guns.
I go to the Bernini in the Vittoria Church again. Closed for the mid-day. I will be back.
Then on to the Roman Forum. Old old blocks. And columns. Old sections now make great seats for tourists.
Then on to the Capital Museums. There is a huge head here, hands, feet. Each foot is the size of a small car. Turns out it is bits and pieces of an old Constantine statue. There is a Bernini statue here - a Medusa head.
I like the painting by Veronese. Will have to look into what his other work (kept elsewhere) looks like.
Plazzo Nueve is full of sculpture.
Dinner time. Go to a fixed price place. Lots of courses. Best one was the anise root salad. And the nectar served at the end of the meal. Wow. Tangerine juice, fresh squeezed! Mmm.
Then it is mingle time. I am kicked off the steps of Parliament, while admiring a sculpture. Guess the guards are there to make sure you don't stop. They do keep the sidewalk open. Find another huge carved column. And find the Neptune fountain. This place takes up an entire block. Built by some Pope, to commemorate the re-opening of the old Roman aqueducts. Is still powered by aqueduct - gravity fed water. I toss two coins over my shoulder into the pool. Means good luck and a return visit. Time will tell.
Go by the Pantheon. Is closed of course. And find an old obelisk. Is quite damaged, and patched up. Was taken from Egypt. By Caesar Augustus. From Anthony and Cleopatra.
Have a cherry, blackberry, pistachio gelato. And I am on my way home to bed.
Nite Nite.
=========
Thursday 1 April
===========
Roma . . .
Overcast. Not raining.
Go through my morning routine. Visit Giuseppe & Dario at the butcher shop. And go to a fruit store. The oranges are red inside. They are mild and have a slight pomegranate taste. Even the street beggars know me. They have their spots, and so as I pass, we share a familiar Buon Giorno.
I see some guys working on the street paving - re-installing the cobble stones. I am surprised to see that the are wedge shaped. Not square blocks. They loosen the sand and then pound in each wedge. Quite quickly. In an arched pattern - not in a straight line. There are curbstones ready to go in also. No concrete here. All stone work.
By now it is sunny. So I can do my outside sights today. But first, the Gallery Borghese, since I have a reservation time. This is a must see recommendation from Brian. And yes, it is excellent! There are many Bernini pieces. SO many over such a period that I conclude that there must have been a father and a son. Upon second review, it seems that there was just the one. He live a long time. And he did a variety of work. There is even a fire place (mantle) here that Bernini did. Here are some of the pieces: La Verita (Truth), Prosperina, Apollo and Daphne. This one has vines and leaves that look alive. How could they be carved without breaking? Wow.
This is a scheduled and timed visit. They clear the place out every two hours. I get done a little ahead of schedule, and go get my ruck sack out of storage. And go check out the gift shop. I brows through a book on the works of Bernini, and I notice one list for this gallery that I did not see. So I go back in - or at least try to. No ruck sack allowed. Have to re-check it. By now, there is a long line of folks checking bags for the next round. By the time I check my bag, my time slot will be over. I go up the stairs outside to the upper exit. I drop my bag in a corner on the balcony and go in. She lets me in because I have five minutes remaining. I encounter a guard, and I asked him where this sculpture is. I directs me to the exit. No, no, I plead. He says, ciouso - closed. So I appeal to the guard at the door. She says, it will be OK. She will let me back in later - after the change over. All this with limited English. So after the next round streams in, she lets me back in. I find the piece - a small one. And then scoot. I have her pick a stone from home. She picks a green one. And asks where it is from. I think California, so that's what I tell her. She is thrilled. Her daughter loves California. She will give it to her daughter. She thanks me - "by the heart". A very nice expression. So it is mutual. A great encounter.
I pass the American Embassy. It is guarded by Caribinieri, in bullet proof vest, with their fingers on the triggers of sub-machine guns.
I go to the Bernini in the Vittoria Church again. Closed for the mid-day. I will be back.
Then on to the Roman Forum. Old old blocks. And columns. Old sections now make great seats for tourists.
Then on to the Capital Museums. There is a huge head here, hands, feet. Each foot is the size of a small car. Turns out it is bits and pieces of an old Constantine statue. There is a Bernini statue here - a Medusa head.
I like the painting by Veronese. Will have to look into what his other work (kept elsewhere) looks like.
Plazzo Nueve is full of sculpture.
Dinner time. Go to a fixed price place. Lots of courses. Best one was the anise root salad. And the nectar served at the end of the meal. Wow. Tangerine juice, fresh squeezed! Mmm.
Then it is mingle time. I am kicked off the steps of Parliament, while admiring a sculpture. Guess the guards are there to make sure you don't stop. They do keep the sidewalk open. Find another huge carved column. And find the Neptune fountain. This place takes up an entire block. Built by some Pope, to commemorate the re-opening of the old Roman aqueducts. Is still powered by aqueduct - gravity fed water. I toss two coins over my shoulder into the pool. Means good luck and a return visit. Time will tell.
Go by the Pantheon. Is closed of course. And find an old obelisk. Is quite damaged, and patched up. Was taken from Egypt. By Caesar Augustus. From Anthony and Cleopatra.
Have a cherry, blackberry, pistachio gelato. And I am on my way home to bed.
Nite Nite.
=========
travel log [latest posting is at the top]
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- Now blogging at my own domain.Go to blog.mydomain....
- French Polynesia Arrival Retrospective[going back ...
- Auckland Retrospective[going back to March 14, 15 ...
- Auckland to Mo'orea to HomeI am home now. For som...
- Wednesday March 14 Whakatane to AucklandThis is wh...
- Tuesday March 13 WhakataneIt it sunny in the morni...
- March 16 Auckland AirportAll checked in. Departure...
- Sunday March 11 Gisborne to Waiotahi Beach, Opotik...
- Friday March 9 (continued) Napier to Gisborne[don'...
- Wednesday March 7 in NapierAfter 3 pretzels, I vis...
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