So after an embarrassingly long
and inexcusable blogging absence, it’s back!
I am all over this blogging stuff.
Oddly enough, my spelling is getting ever more interesting as my brain
tries to process all these new things!
Hopefully Word will catch all the really bad mistakes.
Last week Joern and I needed to
use up some leftover rental car points.
What better way to use them than a vacation in Italy! We had such a good time, driving, cooking and
taking over 3,000 pictures between the two of us (I became a master of the
out-the-car-window-shot). We stuffed so
much into one week, I’ll try to lay it out here. It was a trip to remember!
Rome
We flew late Friday and spent
the night in Rome (lucky us, with no jet lag!).
By spend the night in Rome, I mean we spent most of the night searching Rome
for our hotel using the Train/Metro/Tram/Bus system. I think this would have been a lot easier had
it not been pitch black and pouring rain while we carried all of our
luggage. The trick of it is that the
names of the stops seemed to be limited to that same six names arranged in
different orders. Anyway, we found the
hotel and after drying out, were ready to hit the city!
In
Rome, we basically completed the greatest hits route. The problem is, you really can’t see all the
greatest hits Rome has to offer in one day.
So we hit our top five-ish. We
saw the Coliseum (Joern’s favorite), the Pantheon, toured the piazza in front
of the Vatican (I’ve already been inside and line was insane), the Trevi, the
Spanish Steps, and put our hands in the Mouth of Truth (my favorite!). We also walked through the free parts of the
Roman ruins and went through a very cool neighborhood called Trastevere (this
is where you should eat). The sheer
number of people who were there in the rain was almost as astonishing as the
sites themselves. I’m proud to say that
Joern and I learned the public transport system, which is a combination of
guesswork, luck, and running, but also very affordable. We took a break for dinner (pizza of course!)
and gelato. Joern then took all kinds of
really fancy night pictures.
The Amalfi Coast
The
next day we picked up our rental car, the faithful Lancia Delta. We got it at the airport so luckily it spared
us from driving though downtown Rome (that day at least). We plugged in our German GPS, Sheila, and
took off south. The going was great,
there were so many mountains and olives and grapevines! We then took the famous Amalfi Coast drive
through twists and turns and switchbacks.
When one isn’t used to sheer rock faces and cliffs while driving, it can
be a bit stressful. Good thing we’ve
gone down roads like that before. Bad
thing we’ve never done it with Italian drivers.
A
few notes on driving in Italy: Let me
say, I found the Italian people warm, welcoming, and completely crazy when it
came to driving. It could be a feature
of Fiats, but it seemed that the pedals only worked when pressed completely to
the floor. If you look at our pictures
sequentially, you can actually see Joern and me visibly aging. It could be because all road signs, traffic
markings, and rules were treated more like suggestions. Same for helmets and seat belts. Some people decided to follow them, others
not. Many cars fit through turns because
they took them on two wheels. Joern was
a brave, daring, and acrobatic driver the whole time! I think there may be nail marks on my side of
the dashboard, but after just two days, Joern drove like a pro, with just the
right amount of honking to add flavor and panache.
As
our drive along the coast with a few stops for pictures, pottery, and lunch
ended, we began to look for our Bed and Breakfast in Sorrento. It was still breathtakingly beautiful with
the ocean, the mountains, and all of these tiny colorful houses perched impossibly
close to the edges. We were admiring the
olive groves in the fading sunset when Sheila announced we had reached our
destination. There were only olives
around us, some with nets under them to catch the harvest (don’t work more than
you have to, right?).
After
some investigating, we concluded that there was no Bed and Breakfast in the
trees. We double-checked the address;
drove around a bit more, and nothing proved very helpful. Finally, Joern stopped at a different hotel
to ask directions. Another thing I loved
about Italy is how helpful everyone is.
It didn’t matter if you spoke no Italian (very careless, I really should
have learned at the very least Spanish, I was told), or if they spoke no English-
it never got in the way of a 15 minute conversation. I watched through the window as Joern began
his conversation with the concierge, who was joined by the bellboy. The bus driver in the parking lot also jumped
out of his bus to join in. All three men
made enormous, urgent hands gestures in seemingly opposite directions. Joern stood in the middle of this all,
nodding and sometimes gesturing helplessly at his long-forgotten address. Another concierge came out and started up the
computer and then all four began the conversation anew over the map.
We
left half an hour later, relieved that soon we could finally get to our room,
unpack, and attend to the all-important question of dinner. We drove contentedly along a dark olive
grove, with high, ancient-looking stone walls on either side of us. The walls were dappled grey, with moss here
and there, and also a mosaic of paint from cars that had gotten too close. The walls grew in detail as they somehow got
closer and closer to our car. Finally,
Joern came to a stop as we had maybe 2 inches on either side. Looking ahead, it only got narrower, and it
became clear that we physically didn’t fit in the road! We had to back out for about 300 yards and
try to recalculate from there. This
happened twice more before we finally found our lovely bed and breakfast with a
view of the bay. We got in, changed, and
then enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the restaurant that we had passed maybe 6
times in our travels.
Matera to Lecce
The
next day we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast, chatting with the owner, Luigi. Next stop, Matera! There we saw some of the oldest human
settlements in the world, the Sassi. It
was pretty cold and raining that day, and also we got there during the quiet
lunchtime hour. So there really wasn’t
anyone there at all except us. It made
the stone houses look even older to me.
We took a bunch of pictures and then found a small restaurant that was
still open, where they recommended…pizza of course! We had a great meal and hit the road again,
into the heel of the boot, into Lecce.
Lecce
was one of my favorite cities. It was-like
every other city we visited-very old, but the buildings still had so much
energy. The streets were narrow and
wind-y and because of the rain, a little wet, which reflected off the limestone
of the shops and restaurants. It was
dark by the time we ate our fashionably late Italian dinner, and everything was
sort of bathed in a golden light. Very
romantic!
Our dinner was an antipasti of
different sorts of thinly sliced fish, and our primi was two famous Puglian (the
region) pasta dishes. By the way, you
have to be a professional competitive food eater to make it through more than
two Italian dinner courses. It just can’t
be done. Our pasta was ceci e tria (chick
peas with pasta - half fried and half not- in a butter sauce) and orecchiette
with turnip greens. Both were
amazing!
The next day we explored the Old
Town, which included a Roman Ampitheater (Italy is just crawling with cool stuff
thousands of years old) and lots of pasta shops. We saw a really cool old Fiat 500 and took a
few shots. A lady ran over to us from
across the street, yelling in Italian.
We said “sorry!” and tried to beat a hasty retreat, but she ran after
us, still talking in Italian. After a
while I made out “Entra! Entra!” She
opened up the doors and had me jump in so Joern could get a better
picture! Only in Italy! We then decided to hit the beach. It was a little cold, but perfect for walking
with a jacket. We spent the afternoon
trying to decide which stop we liked the best.
Then came what I was looking
forward to the whole trip- a cooking class!
We met the owner of a small restaurant in the Old Town, and a nice
couple from England. Together we made
pasta from scratch, Pappardelle and lasagna.
The pappardelle had a great tomato-garlic sauce and the lasagna was
basically pure cheese (mozerella and ricotta) and obscene amounts of truffle. Everyone had a great time trying to keep up
with the electric pasta roller! After
cooking up an appetite, we ate our creations along with a fish course and
dessert (I guess this means we can enter eating competitions now).
Alberobello and Bari
The next day saw us driving
north to the town of Alberobello.
Luckily, our crazy GPS Sheila took us on the scenic route through more
mountains and olives and wine. It’s a
lot like driving through Iowan corn fields, except prettier. We got our first glimpse of the Trulli, odd
little houses shaped like beehives. They
look perfect for hobbits to me. The old
town has a huge village of them, and it was fun to visit the tourist shops just
to see them from the inside.
We arrived in Bari and went directly to visit
St. Nicholas, aka Santa!!! We saw where
(most of him anyway) he was buried and enjoyed the paintings of him leaving
coins in children’s shoes.
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| IT'S SANTA! I KNOW HIM! |
That night,
we were so full of food and so tired, we decided to save Bari for the next trip. Also it was raining again (I’m impressed with
how many patched of blue sky Joern found to take pictures of). So we bought a few rolls from a bakery and
some cold cuts from the butcher and stayed in the hotel room that night. We found an English TV channel and found out
that half of America was underwater, without power, and many were now
homeless. It was a good night to stay
in.
Pompei
The
next day we headed to Pompei (Italians don’t bother with two i’s). A little background: as a teacher, I’ve
brought up, read about, or used the story of Pompei and Vesuvius at least once
a year every year I’ve taught. I’ve read
so many stories, real or imagined, so it was a big deal for me to finally see
this place. I mean how many times can
you say you stood under a volcano?
Needless to say, I had very high expectations. Pompei exceeded them far and away. I really felt like I could see exactly how
people lived in this city, get a feel for the roads and infrastructure. I was constantly surprised by little
reminders of just how similar our daily lives were (people in Pompei ate fast
food, too!). We spent most of the day
there, just amazed by the landscape and the mosaics.
That
evening we had another two-hour driving adventure through downtown Naples,
trying to find our Bed and Breakfast in astoundingly narrow roads with even
more motorbikes zipping around in the maybe foot of space between the car and
the buildings. It got a little crazy,
and we may have ended up going through a pedestrian zone, perhaps twice, but
some nice firefighters lent us their cell phone to call the Bed and Breakfast
to get directions. We finally got rid of
the car and walked to the Pizza Road, Via dei Tribunali, where all the best
pizza places in the heart of the Pizza Capitol that is Naples were. We went to Sorbillo, and again our
expectations were exceeded. It was the
pizza of my life, hot, crunchy, wood-fire burned and oozing with real mozzarella.
Naples
We
got up ready to see a bit more of Naples, and marveled at the narrow roads and the
sheer amount of art just stuffed inside the city. We were both sad to see so much graffiti over
many of the UNESCO World Heritage sites, and a lot of trash lying around. My favorite was the right-hand chapel of the
Duomo. The ceiling seemed to float up
and away with all the little cherubs, so pretty. We walked back to the Metro station and went
up to St. Elmo (that’s not a typo) to see the whole city and the bay one more
time. I also enjoyed the art gallery
while Joern went crazy with photography.
After yet another amazing pizza, we picked up the car again and headed
for Rome.
Rome
Our last night in Rome was uneventful
as we got in pretty late and were still stuffed from lunch. We basically tried to fit everything into our
bags that we previously had just tossed in the backseat of the car. Everything made it in, barely. We got up early the next day to be on time
for our flight and to return the rental car, which in hindsight was a bit
silly, as no one else at the airport was in a particular hurry that day. Joern, me, and a lot of people headed for
Vienna (our connection) made a neat, orderly line in front of the check-in counter. We waited for about 45 minutes before two
nice ladies came up and began to talk on their cell phones and type furiously
at their keyboards. After about 20
minutes of this, they were ready to help us.
We made it through security in a
similar fashion and got to our gate.
Boarding time came…and went as the Austrians and Germans once more
rather hopefully formed a line to get on the plane. 15 minutes later another nice lady came to
stand behind the counter and talk on her cell phone. People began to fidget. She then left for a few minutes and returned
to keep talking. Joern broke first and
asked her if we were going to make our half-hour connection in Vienna. “Of course, it’s no problem,” the lady
replied. By this time the plane had
shown up, and the line breathed a visible sigh of relief and had their tickets
in hand (some pre-folded on the perforated line). Alas, it was not to be. The first lady was joined by another person
from outside, which led to an apparently intense discussion over what I can
only assume was what her boyfriend had said last night. Shortly before an international crisis broke
out, we were finally welcomed to Niki airlines and invited to show our boarding
passes. By that time, everyone just ran
up to the door and jumped in.
The flight was uneventful, but
Joern and I knew that we would have to run through the airport to make our next
flight. I truly believe that a team of
engineers and architects feverishly work together to determine the exact
geographical opposite end of the airport so that airlines know just where to
schedule connecting flights. As Joern
and I galloped down this carefully pre-planned path, awkwardly trying to keep
our multiple bags from falling off our various extremities, I heard our names
over the PA: “…Wendelken, would you please come IMMEDIATELY to your gate, you
are delaying our flight.”
That was it. I marched right up to the gate and screeched “It
was the Italians who delayed your
flight!” I thrust my ticket forward,
feeling justified in my actions. The
attendant looked me up and down and replied “I’m afraid that bag won’t fit in
the overhead bin, you’ll have to check it.”
We were home at last. 
