Copyright (C) 2003 Adam Boggs
My last report covered Switzerland and Chamonix, and the totally awesome crossing into Italy. My first impressions of Italy were not that great: it felt dirty, the food was just OK, it was horribly crowded everywhere you went, and the Italian men wouldn't give you the time of day unless you had breasts and a nice ass. After spending some time here, I came to realize that all of that is true about Italy, but I've learned to appreciate it a bit more. I realized that I went through the same experience I had when entering France (without realizing it at the time), which was CULTURE SHOCK. For the first couple of days I really didn't like Italy (and France) much. After that I started to get into the groove of things and it was much more comfortable.
I mentioned the underwhelming Italian food. Italians are known for their food, so I feel I should clarify my position here. First, PIZZA is everywhere. Italian pizza is very different from American pizza though. It's thin crust, tomato sauce, a sprinkling of cheese, and maybe a few mushrooms, fatty ham, or an olive or two for toppings. I really miss the chewy crust, spicy sauce, and piles of cheese and toppings found on yummy American pizza. It's just different, that's all. It's also cheap, so despite it's shortcomings I've eaten at least as much pizza here as I did chocolate in Switzerland. Traditional Roman food tends to be what they call 5th quarter meats: oxtail soup, boiled head of baby goat, etc. Needless to say, I haven't tried much of it. Most meals come with bread (they charge you for it, as well as a typical 2 euro cover charge just for sitting down, and often an 18 percent gratuity automatically added as well, so they get you however they can). The bread is typically dry, bland, and not even served with the "Italian butter" of olive oil and fresh pepper that you find in american italian restaurants. French bread was much better.
However, Italian chocolate is much better than Swiss in my opinion, and if there's one thing Italians got right, it's ice cream. I upped my normal 1 cone a day to 2 cones a day because on every corner there is a shop that makes their own homemade ice cream with all sorts of wacky flavors. Truely heavenly. It almost makes up for the guy serving it, who will serve all the pretty ladies behind me before asking me what I want. Sigh. Can't say I don't blame him.
I have to make a brief digression here just to get this off my chest. If there's one thing that Italy has taught me, it is that I now have a great disdain for the tourist industry. I created a new word while I was here that sums it up for me: TOURRORISM. I find myself despising tourists, and often find the quality of the place I am visiting diminished by the fact that millions of people with cameras come there to consume and then leave. While tourism is the life blood of many of the people who actually live in these places, I feel it strips the culture bare, turns the locals into money mongers trying to squeeze every cent out of their prey, and sometimes with little ethics or subtlety even behind it. It's a bit awkward feeling this way, because I am one of those people myself. It makes me want to leave those places... leave them alone and go to a virgin town somewhere that doesn't know tourism, and are just happy that you dropped by to say hi. They are very difficult to find in today's Italy. Today's Italy is hardly one that Michaelangelo would find to be a cultural hotbed for true art, or that Da Vinci would be able to experiment with nature without also being able to juggle on the street for a crowd of onlookers. Ok, enough on the tourrorism, but I'm sure you will see some of this sentiment pop up throughout my tour of this country.
So, I started my Italian tour in Aosta in the far northwestern part of Italy, which was recommended by a book I have and was where I needed to be after the tram ride over from Chamonix, but I wasn't very impressed, so I took off for Cinque Terre, or "5 Cities", on the Italian Riviera. The cities, from north to south, are: Monterroso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore. I saw all but Riomaggiore.
My timing was impeccible too, since I arrived on august 17th, and August 15th happened to be a major catholic holiday after which most Italians close up shop to take the rest of august off and go on vacation. So they all leave the big cities and take off for nice little spots like Cique Terre. So, while most of the tourists were actually Italian, it was still impossible to find a place to stand, nevermind sleep. The difficulty in coping was compounded by the fact that Monterroso, the northernmost and most popular town, was completely out of water due to the heat wave/drought and all of the tourists wanting to take showers. But, I spent a couple of days there anyway, one night in Monterroso and one in Vernazza, just to the south. The towns really are lovely (in October), and each has a very distictive character. They're all built on cliffs and appear to be sliding into the ocean. They are connected by very scenic hiking trails, and I managed to hike between most of the towns and at least get a feel for them in the couple of days I was there. Monterroso has a beach and is the biggest, but has the least character. Vernazza has a castle on top and is literally draped over a cliff and seems to be pouring into the sea.
Corniglia was my favorite, but is off the water a little bit. It has a huge stairway leading up to the town with a million steps, and a very interesting central plaza. I had a great conversation with 3 old Italians as I tried to find my way back to Vernazza in the diminishing day light. We talked for about 20 minutes, though I spoke no Italian, and they spoke no English. It's so great to find someone willing to have such a conversation, and since they were just sitting there on a bench with nothing else to do anyway, why not? The guy said he thought it would take me an hour to walk to Vernazza, and the two ladies said no it was at least 2 hours and it would be dark. The guy said no, no, he's a big strong guy, he can do it in an hour. Then one of the old ladies, who was half my height, looked at me and said "You're at least 2 meters tall aren't you?" (In Italian of course!) I shook my hand like "Almost but not quite." Then she looked at the other old lady, pointed her thumb at me, and said "John Wayne", which I understood perfectly. We all laughed about her calling me John Wayne, and after that they all figured I could make it back to Vernazza in an hour, which was good because it was getting late. At the top of the hill descending into the city, I found a restaurant right off the trail called the "Ristaurante di Torre" (Tower Restaurant) with a great view of the castle and Vernazza disappearing into the darkness as it's twinkling lights came to life. A great seafood spaghetti and some red wine was just what I needed after such a day of hiking, followed by the obligatory ice cream cone down in town.
But at 50 euros a night, and the complete unwillingness to help out a solo traveller, I was forced to move on. That's ok, the great thing about travelling like this is that there are always other awesome experiences right around the corner.
On my way out of Cinque Terre I took the train through Pisa and took a quick side trip to see the tower. That's about all that town has going for it, except for all of the news stands with porn. That night I spent in Florence (Firenza in Italian), and stayed at a campsite that was walking distance from town, rented tents with beds and a sheets, had a bar, mini market, internet, laundry, showers, and live entertainment, all for 12 euros a night. It's not like any camping I've ever done, but it helped make up for the expense of Cinque Terre. Plus it was very social, and I met a bunch of people. Florence itself is a great town too.
One of the highlights of Florence is seeing his sculpture of David. I've seen pictures, and I've seen copies, but seeing the original sent chills up my spine. It is very large, or at least it appears very large. The details of the veins in his hands, the musculature, the prepubescent penis (I've seen more stone penises in the last few days than I have the whole rest of my life), his pose and facial expression... all put together is quite impressive. Apparently the marble he used had been worked on by two other sculptors for different projects who rejected it saying it was too hard to work with. I also checked out the Uffizi museum (Uffizi means Office, which is what it was originally constructed for before the Medici family turned it into a museum in the 16th century), which also has many famous artworks ("The Birth of Venus" and "Primavera", by Boticelli, see http://users2.ev1.net/~stegturn/uffizi.htm)
Another task I had was to find a place to each lunch. Not just any place, but a place that I was told about by an old woman I met in France who used to live in Florence. She drew me a little map, which included a gate that you pass through that looks like you're walking into "someone's back yard". Indeed, it was tiny and remote, and filled with Italians so you know it was good. A 3 course lunch was only 5.50 euro, which is a score (8.50 since I had a bottle of wine too). It was very good, and left me pretty sleepy for the Uffizi museum that afternoon. :)
I rented a car in Florence to drive down to Rome, taking a couple of days to do it. I haven't driven in 3 months, and jumping in a car in Italy was a bit intimidating. They're not bad drivers, they just have different "rules of the road". Passing is a must, and they will scream up onto your ass and flash their lights, which means you pull as far over to the side of the road as you can while they pass you around a blind curve. Likewise, if someone is putting along in front of you, you are expected to pass them in a similar manner. It's a bit stressful in the cities (where the same rules apply), but out on the open road it wasn't bad. The area between Florence and Rome is known as Tuscany, part of which is the Chianti district. The terrain is quite hilly, and the dry soil and golden fields contrast with the huge fields of grapes and tall skinny juniper trees. "Agriturismo" is very popular in this area, in which a farmhouse will rent out rooms for a romantic weekend in the country. Sounds like it would be really nice for a couple on a romantic getaway, but not practical for a budget traveller like me.
The hill towns of Tuscany were pretty cool. Most of them are littered with tourists, but I found a couple that were just perfect without a lot of people and pouring with local character. In the more touristed towns they are loaded with local specialty shops containing olive oil, chianti wine, lovely (stinky feet) italian cheese, and all sorts of other things. EXCEPT for the one thing I was looking for: olives. They were nearly impossible to find! If I wanted olive oil I could get it by the gallon in a million different flavors, but to find olives themselves was a rare find indeed. The best place to get them: the grocery store. It takes some of the romanticism out of it, but they're still pretty darn good. Of the notable towns, San Gimignano had a lovely torture museum, Siena had a great plaza where the whole town went to hang out at night, Montepelluciano was steep and was a great climb to the top, and Orvieto was perched on top of a high plateau with wonderful medievil character. Outside of Orvieto I visited a small town called Civita de Borgneano, or Civita (pronounced chiVEEta) for short. This town with a population of 15 is to be treated like an old dying relative, because it really is. It is also on top of a narrow plateau, but much smaller than Orvieto, and the only way to get to it is by a long bridge, as no cars are allowed in (or able to get into) the city. It has rivers on either side of it that formed the original plateu, and continue to eat away at the walls that the town is perched on. The people are very friendly despite their slowly dissappearing city, and I was glad to get a chance to explore their town.
Arriving in Rome was a bit stressful, but I got the car dropped off at the airport and found a place to stay. The first evening I wandered around aimlessly get oriented and found a great hill with a view to watch the sunset from and a very good trattoria for dinner (that in fact had the boiled baby goat's head I referred to earlier, as well as pizza, pasta, and other more palatable things). The next day I spent exploring the Colloseum and the ruins of the Palantine Hill, the baths, and the Roman Forum. Then I spent another day at the Vatican Museum, St. Peter's Basilica, and the Sistine Chapel. The number of works by famous painters is unreal, though Michaelangelo steals the show again with the Sistine Chapel and the ceiling on the dome of the Basilica. A hike up 540 stairs to the coupala on the dome provided an awesome view of Rome, being the highest point in town.
But alas, I got robbed while I was in Rome. The Pope stole my pocketknife. A pocketknife is a traveller's companion. I've used it to cut more cheese than you can imagine. This was the cool one I got in the Algarve in southern Portugal with the cool spoon and fork on it for only 4 euros. I was forced to check it at the Vatican Museum. "Don't worry, you'll get it back" the guard said as I reluctantly handed it over. But alas when I came back to fetch it after exiting the museum, I found they had closed at 3pm, and the guard said I would have to come back tomorrow. I was leaving the next morning, but my train wasn't until noon, so I took the subway over to the museum, only to find out they no longer had the knife, they transfer all unclaimed items to another office a 15 minute walk away. To top it off, I lost the little 1" square piece of paper they gave me with the reference number on it. So, I ended up on a rat race around Vatican City (which was interesting, because most people aren't even allowed past the swiss guards into the city!), which culminated in a beaurocratic nightmare. Without the piece of paper the guard wouldn't give me the knife, and the museum wouldn't issue a new peice of paper. It was ridiculous, and I was nearly in tears. "What are you going to do, keep my stupid pocket knife?" I said getting choked up. "No document, no knife." he said cruelly, and I turned away defeated. So, I decided on my way out that it was my donation to their cause: fine, keep the damn pocket knife!
After Rome, Assisi, a small town I didn't hit on my car tour, was the destination for a night of relaxing before Venice. Assisi is the home of Saint Frances, who also visited Arles, France for a period (which I also went to), and spent a brief time in California in the 1960's as well, reportedly. San Francesco was a monk who recognized the corruption of the church (who was known even then to take small important personal posessions for unweary travellers and not return them because they did not possess proper documentation) and so he shed all of his material possessions, including his clothing and shoes (at least at first) to live a life of simplicity and try to return the church back to the roots he felt they had strayed from. He gained many followers and the support of several popes before dying of a hoard of diseases he picked up in the middle east. But many followers still make pilgrimage today to the church in Assisi where his remains, well, remain, and the monks of his parish still walk the streets of the small medievil town. It was a great place to stop and slow down before heading to Venice.
Ah Venezia... people say it like they think back on it with love and romance in their hearts, and think it's the most beautiful city around. I think that anyone who gets that look in their eye when they hear the name of that town are accidentally mistaking it with the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas. My first impression of Venice is that it smells like a sewer, the vampire bugs and biting flies will eat you alive, there is graffiti on every wall, and most of the city is dedicated to promoting the facade to tourists that Venice is a beautiful place by hiking prices way above what is actually reasonable. Seriously, I found it very difficult to see what the "real" Venice was all about. I had the opportunity to speak with someone who actually lives there over breakfast one morning, and he said that in the last 15 years or so about half of the residents have left the city, and about half of the remaining ones were involved in tourism somehow. I was going to bail on it altogether, but decided to stay an extra day. I actually found a hotel 10 minutes walk from the center (Saint Mark's Square) for 35 euros (I talked him down from 40... it was under construction), which is under half of what anyplace else but a hostal on another island would cost.
So on the second day I went over to a nearby island called Murano, which is famous for making glass. Venetian glass used to be made in Venice, but after the town caught on fire a few times they kicked all of the glass blowers out to their own island. I got a personal demonstration from a glassblower and went to the glass museum, and walked around the generally less touristy and more beautiful town. When my eyes finally started to glass over, I took the boat back to Venice and got off on a stop far from the center. I walked through the residential neighborhoods there and stopped at a little Trattoria whose specialty was fish and polenta. It was half of the cost of my dinner the previous night and 10 times better! So, my second day in Venice helped me not leave with a bad taste in my mouth, but I still think it would be a better place to go on a romantic honeymoon where you had lots of money to blow on nothing.
From Venice I headed north on the train into Austria, thus ending my 2 week stay in Italy. Aosta, Cinque Terre, Florence, the hill towns of Tuscany and Umbria, Rome and Venice, it has been quite a journey through this country. I'm not sure Italy has been my favorite part of the trip so far, but I'm glad I got to experience it, still enjoyed it immensely, and think that if you look closely there are glimpses of the grand culture that the country still holds in secret. My best advice though: Don't go to Italy in August.
Austria so far has been wonderful! The weather changed overnight from hot summer to cool wet fall. Now I miss the heat, but at least I get to use my fleece and jeans that I have been carrying around for 2 months! In Austria I hope to see Innsbruck, a small ski town, Salzburg, the hometown of Mozart, and Vienna before heading up to Prague and then Berlin, Germany. I rearranged my travel plans a little to hit Munich later to better meet my friend's schedules, and to maybe catch a glimpse of Oktoberfest in Munich towards the end of September.
Tomorrow marks the one month anniversary before my return. It's hard to believe I have been away from home for nearly 4 months! Hope everyone is doing well.
-Adam
