Day 10 - 11: Sienna

Ahhh...Sienna!

Along the way towards Rome from Florence lies the wonderful little city of Sienna. A walled city, much like Lucca, its roads are free from bothersome cars, giving it a special character that is irresistible. From the train station, we hiked up the steep hill to find the city proper, tucked away behind its tall walls.

Sienna is a very cool town. Everything is cramped inside its walls, resulting in twisting & winding streets and walkways, much like the canals of Venice, and residences, businesses, and shops all crammed in together. Sienna is the origin of a famous color of Crayola fame. All the municipal buildings are built with bricks made of clay from the surrounding area, and these bricks happen to be that orangish, rusty, color we all know and love - Burnt Sienna! (Since it was dark and snowy, everything was more of a grayish gray - probably won't find that one in your box of crayons).


Sienna has its Duomo of course. And its Duomo museum. A Michelangelo stained glass. Some other old stuff and lots of Baby Jesus. Sienna at one point decided it was going to build the largest church in the world, but only got one wall finished before a plague wiped out their workforce. We climbed to the top of that wall (it obviously still stands) for an incredible view of the city below. The walkway atop the wall was impossibly narrow, room for barely two people abreast, and the spiral staircases leading up to the top were even narrower. Only room for someone to go up, or someone to go down. No passing!

One of the neatest things about Sienna is the Palio. The town is split into 17 different neighborhoods, or contrade. Twice a year, they each choose a champion who will race his horse around the tiny town square. Victory in the Palio is to be elevated to the level of local hero. For a year at least. While we didn't get to see the actual horse race, it was fun to sit in the square and imagine the huge crowds of people cheering for their contrada and the horses whipping around at breakneck speed.

Day 7- 9: Florence

The train to Florence from Venice was quiet and uneventful. We got in the city late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, and had our first difficulties finding a place to sleep. Almost nothing was open, and we really didn't want to have to choose a 4-star, several hundred Euro hotel over spending the night on the street. The Tourist Information (TI) near the train station recommended a hostel, and we headed off on foot. Florence has this system for addresses that would have been curious at any other time, now it was just annoying. Every building has two numbers, one for residences, and one for businesses. So you could be standing in front of a door that was labeled 21 and 97. We eventually found our hostel, but it was closed! We headed out again, hoping the other recommendation would actually be open.

What we found was European travel is turning into for a whole generation of youth. The idea of backpacking through Europe is rapidly fading into yesteryear. Nowadays, kids from the world over, (although mostly English speaking countries, and from those, mostly Australia) are seeing Europe by train-hopping from one of these mega-hostels to another. They are really just large, cheap hotels in which you share rooms with strangers. Owned by large corporations with significant investments in them, they offer all the amenities you could want: English speaking front desk, TV's, cafeteria, bar, pool table, dance floor, pool!, sauna, and on and on. Want to see the countryside? Try our deluxe tour bus package....Need to relax, get one of our luxury spa treatments! They are nice because you know exactly what you are getting, and the sense of familiarity can be relaxing. But you can't help but wonder if this generation of world travelers are missing the point of getting out into the world. Its fun to be able to meet some fellow Americans and do things together, or stay up late playing drinking games in the hostel bar, but I couldn't help but think that they were getting the Discovery Channel, drive by & look out the window, "look kids, Big Ben," sanitized version of Europe. Get out and get dirty people!


Christmas Eve we spent getting settled, eating a simple dinner and watching Trading Places in Italian on one of the little TVs. That night Babo Natale came to the rest of Italy, and the world, while we dozed with 6 other people in our cozy little room.


Christmas morning, because everything in Florence would be closed, we took the opportunity to take a day-trip to Pisa. Apparently, all there is to do in Pisa is see the tower, take the obligatory picture holding it up, and then leave. We met a couple of American students studying abroad in Amsterdam in the lobby, and together we caught the 1215 train to Pisa. It was fun to chat with fellow Americans, but a little painful to feel the difference in age and maturity. To me there was quite a chasm between a 30 yr old Naval Officer in charge of a nuclear reactor on a submarine, and a 21 year college kid spending a semester abroad "studying" in Amsterdam. Regardless, they were good company, and something for Heather and I to talk about amongst ourselves later.


Pisa was pretty neat. It would have been underwhelming if we weren't forewarned by Rick, and everyone else we talked to about the city. We took our pictures and toured to church. Before we left, we sat and watched all the silly tourists taking pictures holding up the tower.



Before we went back to Florence, we stopped at the ancient (everything in Italy is ancient) walled city of Lucca. Luckily for us, since the crackers and cheese that Heather had snuck from the hostel that morning were gone, the Italians traditionally eat Christmas dinner out. We wandered the narrow, carless, streets until we found a very nice restaurant, each of us trying something new and sharing with the others. We had a good time watching the local families celebrating each other, and I think they had a good time watching the Americans embaress themselves.

The train ride back to Florence turned out to be one of the more uncomfortable, if not scary, parts of the trip. Over the course of a couple of stops, our otherwise empty car filled up with 10 or so haphazard youths. They wasted no time in breaking out the beer and wine, and lighting up the joints. In short order, the air was thick with marijuana, and I had to open one of the windows - I had urinalysis as soon as I got back! At one stop, their defacto leader showed up - a charismatic youth with six or eight piercings on his face, a rail-thin physique, and a sucker-fish of a cling-on girlfriend who looked like she had hit the meth pipe a few too many times. Full of bravado and confidence, he was definitely in charge of the little group.


Several of the kids wore their hair shaved to the skin, to about half-way up, and medium length above that. All of them were dressed alike, in urban-style, baggy clothes, and with piercings. I had no idea what group, or organization they belonged to, or what social principles they stood for, but I could definitely ascertain that there was something that bonded them besides hanging out on trains drinking and smoking. One look at my new American friends, who happened to be Jewish as well, and I knew that they were thinking along the same lines as I was.


Nothing ended up happening. The charismatic skinny kid offered us some of his vino and a hit from his joint, which I politely declined, while my mates all graciously took a drag. His girlfriend became quite flirtatious, and then quite lascivious. The others were much more reserved, they seemed to wait for their leader to give them direction. They got off at the same stop we did, but went off in the opposite direction.

Maybe all that tension was for nothing, but everyonce in a while you remember that you are in a foreign land, don't speak the language, and don't know the cultures. I also couldn't help remember that this is the land where nazis, skinheads, and fascists still roam and where Mussolini is revered by some as a hero. Probably it was nothing, just some young and misunderstood kids out having fun. But I'm glad that I didn't find out otherwise.


The next two days was our time to fill up on important culture. Afterwards, we would be slightly more sophisticated world citizens. Again we visited the Duomo (famous because they built it before the technology existed to build a dome to span its cathedral. So it sat without a lid for >100yrs waiting for someone smart enough to build it was born). After that, we headed to the Academia to see a little marble statue.


David defies words. Without being able to explain it, you just know when you look at him that he is perfection, a masterpiece. I could just sit there for hours, and I did, observing that statue. It's said that as soon as David was unveiled, the people of Florence knew that it was a world-class work of art and instantly became the civic pride of the city. Michelangelo's unique interpretation of the David story resulted in the creation of a pensive, stoic David, peaceful in his victory, and thankful to God. David reminded Florence of her struggles against her enemies to the North, Venice, and those to the South, Rome. The basicala David stands in was created specifically for him in the mid- 1800's and he has stood here ever since. I paraphrase when I read a quote that said that, "when studying art, one only has to study David. After him, all other sculpture is insignificant and unimportant." After shamelessly ogling for quite some time, it had to tear ourselves away.


The only thing that could compete with such a powerful moment for the soul, was an equally as inspiring one for the stomach. Florence has some of the best gelato shops in Europe, and we weren't disappointed. As difficult as it is for me to adequately describe David, I find it hard to describe the gelato you find here in Italy. Imagine all of your favorite flavors, infinitely richer in flavor, with the best fresh ingredients, and presented in such a manner that makes your mouth water and stomach rumble. Va bene, molta bene!


The next day we went to the Medicia Chapel, the huge tombs of the Medici family that reminded us of a perfect vampire lair. Huge and dark, most of the family was buried in the basement, but a few lucky ones were buried in the expansive chapel. Their tombs were easily 40' tall and 60' wide with huge statues atop each one. We kept expecting blood-sucking bats to fly out of a slowly opening crypt and attack. No pictures from inside, sorry.


After stocking up on good nightmare material, we went to the Uffuzi Gallery. This collection of art it world-famous, and there is always a long line. For us it was no exception. I think we stood in line for about 3-4 hours. But it was worth it! The gallery was chock-full of Raphael, Michelangelo, Donnatelo, all the ninja turtles. We saw Botticelli's Birth of Venus and Spring. I found it really intersting to see how much of the art was merely the same scenes re-interpreted by different artists. Some of it was fantastic, but honestly, some of it looked like it was painted by 4 year olds. By the end of the day, we definitely had our fill of the Assumption of Mary, Adoration of the Magi, the Sacrifice of Isaac (what a horrible story!), and enough Baby Jesus to last a lifetime.

Day 5- 6: Venice

Ah Venice...Venice is definitely one of those cities that you have to see in person before you leave this Earth. Uniquely beautiful, its character and personality are forces of nature, emanating from every mortared brick and from out of each murky green canal. From the second the train leaves mainland Italy and you are riding just feet above the ocean, you can sense how special this island city is. Wide-beamed powerboats, instead of big-rig trucks, bring in supplies. Not a single car honks as it speeds past; instead gondoliers paddle by and insist that you take a ride. Best of all, the impossibly narrow, forever twisting walkways intertwining with the dozens of convoluted canals inevitably result in getting lost, yet no one seems to ever mind.


We arrived in Venice at the main train station and headed straight for our hostel - after we stopped to eat, and shop a little :) Our hostel was a quaint little converted convent. The church was situated neatly between the Rialto Bridge and San Marco's. Surrounded by canals on all four sides, the views from the rooms were incredible. Some of the hostel rooms even had frescoes decorating their ceilings! The hostel was nice, if austere. They had several guestbooks, with signatures going back to the early 60's! There, I also met my soon-to-be-best-friend, Jemel, a drunk from Lebanon who hated everyone, except me, and really wanted me to drink with him. At 4 in the afternoon. I politely turned him down, met up with Heather, and went out to check out Venice.


We spent two days in Venice, and could have spent two weeks, if there wasn't yet Florence, Rome, Amalfi, etc left to visit. The city is electric, if hectic. Even in this cold, wintery, "off-season," there were wall-to-wall (canal-to-canal?) tourists. We could only imagine what the crowds must be like in the summer months. We did get off the beaten path a little, and explored some of the lesser visited sections where the aging local population lived. It was nice and quiet there, and it was fun to wander through the walkways and try to figure out where the heck we were, and how we would get to where we were going.


San Marco's church was of course incredible. I'm running out of ways to describe these churches individually. Each one is magnificent in its own right, and I wish I had the toolbox to adequately separate them. I do remember the floor of San Marco, undulating like a carpet being shaken out for dust. The sub-surface of Venice has shifted so much over the 500+ years since its construction and the floors have adjusted to reflect this. Even broad, strong columns, tilt in awkward directions, making you ponder their (and your) security. San Marco is the patron saints of the Venicians, his symbol is the winged lion that you see all over the city, in fact, we saw him all over Italy.


It seems like everyone came to Venice to shop. There are only clothing boutiques and restaurants. Every window either showcases leather boots, fur coats, ridiculously priced watches, and on and on. Heather scored a pair of "cheap" Italian sunglasses near San Marco, and the perfect pair of boots right before closing time in a little shop on the glass-making island of Murano. I bought a wine-stopper.


I did notice the absence of any nasty smells that I had heard people mention when talking about Venice. First of all, in the summer, when there are tons more people, and their trash, it must be hell to keep the city clean. Also, the heat must percolate the lagoon and bring out its finer odor. But after a day or so, I noticed what must have been a major culprit. For a tiny, cramped city with very little green space, there were lots of dogs! All over the place, italians were walking their fancy (not leather, thankfully!) dogs. In the morning, at almost every doorstep, you'd find a small plastic bag and a little puddle.


The dogs owners, having nowhere else to go, would let there dogs poo and pee right on the sidewalk, right in front of their house. They wouldn't clean it up, because the small army of people the city paid to clean the city at night while the tourists are dreaming of Pinnoccio and Versace, clean up the poo too! Sometimes though, they don't. And those little plastic bags get stepped on and, well, you can imagine. It got kinda nasty. [Ever since Beijing, I've noticed that people who live in cities where the govn't cleans up the streets, are generally really bad about littering and just don't care - someone else will take care of it.]


My favorite time in Venice was when I woke up early and went for a walk. The tourists had yet to arrive by vaporetti, the cleaning army was finishing up, and the locals were throwing down coffee and setting up their shops. I wandered around, dodging little plastic bags and yellow puddles, and found myself at the base of the Rialto Bridge. I took up residence on one of the platforms they use to navigate the walkways when the city floods (which is >100 times a year!), and just watched. [In the pic above, I was sitting almost right in the middle, in front of the restaurant, behind where that guy is standing.]


It was fascinating watching the mechanisms of the city work as she slowly came to life. Supply boats brought all the goods, from new shiny leather to vino rosso. Vaporetti, the water taxis, brought in the workers who couldn't afford to live in the city itself, (or just didn't want to deal with it). Even garbage boats faded in and out of the fog lifting bins from the sidewalk, and dumping their contents into their bowels. Just like the trucks back home, they were loud, stunk, and seemed to take forever to dump the trash!


Workers unloaded the supplies onto wheeled caddies, and then sped off on foot to deliver them to stores. Just so you know - if you ever got hurt in Venice, they'd load you up on one of these and scoot you off to the hospital :) After an hour of so of pensively watching boats coming and going in and out of the fog, the sudden swell of mad tourists was a shock to my senses. In no time, I was surrounded by people hurriedly walking in every direction, looking, pointing, smiling and generally having a great time on the day before Christmas. I quickly gathered my things, well really just me, and retreated.


In the interest of trying to finish this blog in a reasonable amount of time, I'll save these stories for the book - exploring the prisons at the Doge's Palace, the night at the bar with the guy from the Italian army and the scary one wearing the Mussolini shirt, buying wine by the liter from distinguished gentlemen who made it himself, getting lost in the marine fog trying to find Murano, drinking spritz' in a corner bar watching old men play the same old slot machine they've been playing together for years, Jemel losing his shit and me almost killing him, sleeping in the nursery, and more fun stories :)