Woke this morning to the sound of birds and bells. Dorsoduro is wonderfully quiet - no traffic noise apart from the occasional motor launch down the San Trovaso Canal, and the only sounds footsteps, voices, birds and bells. The little boats often have a dog on board, sometimes a silent dignified figurehead and sometimes enjoying the watery echo of its barking.
Today we set off to explore Venice and see if we could decode the Vaporetti water bus system. We decided we'd buy weekly tickets on the basis that we will likely use the vaporetti every day. First one we caught terminated at San Marco, which was already a solid mass of people. Got a map showing the ferry routes, the caught one to Lido and then one back along the grand canal. A nice, relatively comfortable and economical way to get a tour of Venice. Had a nice salad for lunch - we are feeling a bit over-carbed, then got pleasantly lost getting back to the hotel as our known route was blocked off for bridge works.
Anne settled down for a siesta, while I headed out for a walk back over past San Marco through the dense crowds and on to the Arsenal, where many of the ships which transported the Fourth_Crusade on to devastate Constantinople were built. The first assembly line in history probably. What a different world it would be had the Venetians been less efficient in organizing and building that fleet.
Caught a vaporetti back, then wandered along by the waterfront, and watched a huge cruise ship carving its way through the bustling water traffic. So much of Venice seems still to be medieval scale, the sight of something so vast and modern seemed weirdly incongruous.
We shared a bottle of local wine up on the little terrace on the roof of the hotel with an American couple who are staying here. The warmth and light at the end of the day was very relaxing. Anne and the American lady compared knee ailments and we discussed cultural over-saturation - the too many Madonnas not another church syndrome and ways to approach it. Some of the artworks we've seen are so marvellous that you want to stop right there and not see another thing. This is what we're learning to do.
Headed off to yet another lovely dinner, followed by an icecream, and then getting creatively lost yet again. The upside of this episode of navigational embarrassment was the discovery of the closest thing we've seen to a supermarket in Italy. It was very entertaining. Supermarket culture seems like another modern invention which doesn't quite fit in Venice.
Tomorrow we want to get out and over to San Marco's before the crowds descend. We have a plan!
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Venice Wednesday 14 May, Day 21
Three weeks on the road - or on the rail to be more accurate - and we are both feeling a bit worn out, and glad to be staying put for a few days. We had to be out early to catch a train to be in time for our booking to view the Scrovegni_Chapel in Padua. We left our bags at the checked baggage service at the station, and unencumbered walked down to collect our Padua pass and chapel ticket. Only 25 people maximum are allowed in, and you have to sit in a special room for 15 minutes to control the atmosphere in the chapel to help preserve the paintings. The Giotto frescos in the chapel are well worth the hoo-ha. The frescoes depict old testament stories and then the life of Christ in a narrative series. I particularly admired the Last Judgement fresco which covers the whole of the rear wall. It is interesting that the Hell section of the picture is way more active and interesting than anything else in the painting. Heaven looks pretty bland by comparison.
After the Chapel viewing we wandered into the attached pinoteca museum. After the Chapel, we were beginning to suffer from sensory overload, but every time we would try to sneak out an exit or take a short cut, one of the charming and enthusiastic attendants would kindly direct is into yet another gallery. After eventually making our escape, we caught a tram down to the Basilica of San Antonio. The building is massive, and includes both the tomb of the saint, and various bits of him in the Reliquary chapel. The grisliest collection of bits we've seen, the reliquaries included what looked like his lower front jaw, with teeth visible, his tongue, and his vocal chords. Heaven knows what is left of him in his tomb.
We had definitely had enough by now, and headed back to the station. Our tickets give the train number, the time of departure and destination. You stand in front of screens which display those details and tell you from which platform your train departs. Except today, the screen had the right number but a different destination and a different departure time. There was an earlier train to Venice leaving and I had to physically restrain Anne who wanted to leap onto that one. But our train did arrive at the scheduled time, and did go where we wanted it to go, and a nice man on the train brought us a cup of tea and some biscuits as well, so we arrived in Venice in good spirits. My GPS led us through the little streets, some almost too narrow to let two people pass, and brought us to the right place, but the place we are staying is so discrete we walked past it a few times.
But here we, in a lovely room looking out over the Canal San Trovaso. This pic of the canal was taken on the way back from dinner in a great seafood restaurant not too far away.
After the Chapel viewing we wandered into the attached pinoteca museum. After the Chapel, we were beginning to suffer from sensory overload, but every time we would try to sneak out an exit or take a short cut, one of the charming and enthusiastic attendants would kindly direct is into yet another gallery. After eventually making our escape, we caught a tram down to the Basilica of San Antonio. The building is massive, and includes both the tomb of the saint, and various bits of him in the Reliquary chapel. The grisliest collection of bits we've seen, the reliquaries included what looked like his lower front jaw, with teeth visible, his tongue, and his vocal chords. Heaven knows what is left of him in his tomb.
We had definitely had enough by now, and headed back to the station. Our tickets give the train number, the time of departure and destination. You stand in front of screens which display those details and tell you from which platform your train departs. Except today, the screen had the right number but a different destination and a different departure time. There was an earlier train to Venice leaving and I had to physically restrain Anne who wanted to leap onto that one. But our train did arrive at the scheduled time, and did go where we wanted it to go, and a nice man on the train brought us a cup of tea and some biscuits as well, so we arrived in Venice in good spirits. My GPS led us through the little streets, some almost too narrow to let two people pass, and brought us to the right place, but the place we are staying is so discrete we walked past it a few times.
But here we, in a lovely room looking out over the Canal San Trovaso. This pic of the canal was taken on the way back from dinner in a great seafood restaurant not too far away.
Really looking forward to a few quieter days exploring.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Verona Tuesday 13 May, Day 20
There.was a mighty thunderstorm last night with huge flashes of lightening and lots of rolling thunder. But when we woke up early this morning it was a golden dawn, and the city walls still standing on the hills were in clear relief against the sky. We had a great breakfast - where else in the world do you get fresh strawberries and crème caramel provided at the breakfast buffet ? - then headed off with our Verona passes to sample some of what the city has to offer. Juliet's house - Casa de Capulet - is as made up as Shakespeare's story, but it is right round the corner so we visited it first thing, before the crowds descend upon it. It is a 14th century Veronese house with lots of prints of different representations of the Romeo and Juliet story, and a balcony which was added in the 19th century but which looks the part.
We caught a local bus over to the Basilica of St Zeno, the patron saint of Verona whose remains lie in state in the crypt beneath. There was a funeral service in progress so we did not get to explore the church. Caught the bus back to the Castelvecchio, which was the highlight of the day. We enjoyed the collection and the remarkable restoration of the building by local architect and teacher, Carlo Scarpa.
A new favourite painting - The Madonna_of_the_Rose_Garden - and some fascinating 14th and 15th century variations of familiar themes but in some novel and ingenious representations. The curation and display were brilliant. And best of all, the museum was relatively empty - it seems to be off the tour group circuit.
We were a bit stunned when we emerged -we hadn't expected such a rich collection. Next activity was to get a stamp for a post card, which required the intervention of three Italian postal service employees, cost 2.5 times more than the French equivalent, and required me to sign a form. The process was so exhausting we had to stop for lunch at one of the rows of restaurants near the Roman arena.
After lunch Anne headed back for a siesta and I set off for the nearest Laundromat, located over the bridge outside the old city. "Don't go there at night" the lady from the hotel told us, and it certainly had a very different feel to the charming Verona this side pf the bridge. A couple of people seemed to be living in the Laundromat - mine seemed to be the only machine going so I guess they were there for the warmth and for the entertainment of watching honkeys like me trying to work the machines.
We had the best pizza ever for tea, then strolled down along what was once one of the main Roman roads through a succession of squares, arches and quiet carless streets back to our hotel. Mmm. We've loved Verona - definitely on the come back again list.
Tomorrow we need to be up bright and early to go to Padua for half a day, to see the Giotto frescoes in the Scrovegni Chapel, then continue on to Venice.
We caught a local bus over to the Basilica of St Zeno, the patron saint of Verona whose remains lie in state in the crypt beneath. There was a funeral service in progress so we did not get to explore the church. Caught the bus back to the Castelvecchio, which was the highlight of the day. We enjoyed the collection and the remarkable restoration of the building by local architect and teacher, Carlo Scarpa.
A new favourite painting - The Madonna_of_the_Rose_Garden - and some fascinating 14th and 15th century variations of familiar themes but in some novel and ingenious representations. The curation and display were brilliant. And best of all, the museum was relatively empty - it seems to be off the tour group circuit.
We were a bit stunned when we emerged -we hadn't expected such a rich collection. Next activity was to get a stamp for a post card, which required the intervention of three Italian postal service employees, cost 2.5 times more than the French equivalent, and required me to sign a form. The process was so exhausting we had to stop for lunch at one of the rows of restaurants near the Roman arena.
After lunch Anne headed back for a siesta and I set off for the nearest Laundromat, located over the bridge outside the old city. "Don't go there at night" the lady from the hotel told us, and it certainly had a very different feel to the charming Verona this side pf the bridge. A couple of people seemed to be living in the Laundromat - mine seemed to be the only machine going so I guess they were there for the warmth and for the entertainment of watching honkeys like me trying to work the machines.
We had the best pizza ever for tea, then strolled down along what was once one of the main Roman roads through a succession of squares, arches and quiet carless streets back to our hotel. Mmm. We've loved Verona - definitely on the come back again list.
Tomorrow we need to be up bright and early to go to Padua for half a day, to see the Giotto frescoes in the Scrovegni Chapel, then continue on to Venice.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Verona Monday 12 May, Day 19
We left Turin without too many regrets this morning. Our train to Milan was one of the fast trains and we had seats in business class, which was indeed very comfortable. We were back to the real world of second class on the next leg from Milan to Verona, and where the first train was super fast, the second was achingly slow, stopping for long periods in the baking sun in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason. But the landscape all the way from Turin is spectacular, as the line seems to run more or less in parallel to the Alps. Strange to be sitting cooking in the sun gazing at snow covered mountains. We spent a lot of time looking out the window as the young couple in the neighbouring seats - a pretty Italian girl and a handsome French boy - spent most of the trip improving Franco-Italian relations. They were very nice though when they managed to come up for air.
A bit of a slog from the station to our hotel, not helped by me heading off in totally the wrong direction, but we got our bearings and found our way to our hotel on the Piazza Erbe in the old city. Where Turin is black with fumes, car choked and dark, Verona seems filled with light, bicycles and charm. It feels like there is something delightful around every corner and down every little street.
We walked over to visit the 13th Century church of Saint Anastasia, which amongst other wonders has hanging from the roof in one side chapel the rudder from an Ottoman galley destroyed in the Battle_Of_Lepanto.
After the church we walked over the Roman bridge Ponte Della Petra to visit the Roman theatre, which unfortunately was closed. Stopped for a drink in a café next to the river near the bridge, and liked it so much we stayed there for a simple but delicious dinner, then back to our hotel where we had a fruit plate on the terrace watching the world go by in the piazza below.
The influence of Venice is evident here in the proliferation of statues and crests of the lion of St Mark, which became the emblem of Venice. There is a marvellous example on the Piazza Erbe outside our window.
A bit of a slog from the station to our hotel, not helped by me heading off in totally the wrong direction, but we got our bearings and found our way to our hotel on the Piazza Erbe in the old city. Where Turin is black with fumes, car choked and dark, Verona seems filled with light, bicycles and charm. It feels like there is something delightful around every corner and down every little street.
We walked over to visit the 13th Century church of Saint Anastasia, which amongst other wonders has hanging from the roof in one side chapel the rudder from an Ottoman galley destroyed in the Battle_Of_Lepanto.
After the church we walked over the Roman bridge Ponte Della Petra to visit the Roman theatre, which unfortunately was closed. Stopped for a drink in a café next to the river near the bridge, and liked it so much we stayed there for a simple but delicious dinner, then back to our hotel where we had a fruit plate on the terrace watching the world go by in the piazza below.
The influence of Venice is evident here in the proliferation of statues and crests of the lion of St Mark, which became the emblem of Venice. There is a marvellous example on the Piazza Erbe outside our window.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Torino Sunday 11 May, Day 18
Last night on our evening stroll we saw a poster "Il PreRaphaeletis" with Millais' wonderful painting of Ophelia - a travelling exhibition from the Tate which was on in Tokyo when I was there in February. We thought this was a good first stop, so after a bit of a Sunday sleep-in, we headed on down to the Palazzo Chiablese where the exhibition is housed. Today being Mothers Day - Festa Della Mamma - and a nice warm Sunday as well, the streets were filled with people out buying flowers - the custom seems to be white or red azaleas for mamma - heading off to church dressed to the nines, or just walking around, generally having a good time.
Because of our late start, there was a substantial queue and we were told at least half an hour. After about 10 minutes in the hot shameless queue where most people seemed to be passing the time by smoking heavily, and being a sitting target for the particularly persistent Torino beggars, we could feel our enthusiasm for PreRaphaelites beginning to wane, and we decided to visit the nearby Museo Archaeologico instead.
We could only buy a group ticket to three museums, the Palazzo Reale - the royal palace of House of Savoy - the Armeria - a collection of armour and weapons from 15th century on, and the archeology museum. Don't think we are really palace sort of people - room after room of gilt and stuff gets oppressive quickly. We got lost trying to find the archealogy museum, which when we did locate it seemed to be closed. Anne had a sit outside the lovely church while I retraced our steps to visit the Armeria. While I was contemplating a few centuries worth of man's ingenuity in devising nastier and more efficient ways of inflicting damage on his fellow man - I was particularly impressed with a dagger which had two spring loaded side pieces - Anne was watching the local children who had just made their first communion issuing forth from the church. I think she got the better deal.
We then headed down to the Museo_Egizio which is said to be the second largest collection of Egyptian antiquities in the world. A jaw dropping collection of statues, household objects, paintings, sarcophagi, altar pieces. One room has around a dozen imposing statues of Sekhmet, the lionheaded goddess of healing, all beautifully carved. One room had a huge rams head, again, meticulously carved. Moving from one gallery to another is a window through which you can see a storage area. As well as racks of mummies, sarcophagi and other stuff, there was a milk crate filled with mummified cats. In the main collection there were more mumified cats, a cat sarcophagus, a lovely little statues of a litter of cats, and this wonderful cat effigy.
Because of our late start, there was a substantial queue and we were told at least half an hour. After about 10 minutes in the hot shameless queue where most people seemed to be passing the time by smoking heavily, and being a sitting target for the particularly persistent Torino beggars, we could feel our enthusiasm for PreRaphaelites beginning to wane, and we decided to visit the nearby Museo Archaeologico instead.
We could only buy a group ticket to three museums, the Palazzo Reale - the royal palace of House of Savoy - the Armeria - a collection of armour and weapons from 15th century on, and the archeology museum. Don't think we are really palace sort of people - room after room of gilt and stuff gets oppressive quickly. We got lost trying to find the archealogy museum, which when we did locate it seemed to be closed. Anne had a sit outside the lovely church while I retraced our steps to visit the Armeria. While I was contemplating a few centuries worth of man's ingenuity in devising nastier and more efficient ways of inflicting damage on his fellow man - I was particularly impressed with a dagger which had two spring loaded side pieces - Anne was watching the local children who had just made their first communion issuing forth from the church. I think she got the better deal.
We then headed down to the Museo_Egizio which is said to be the second largest collection of Egyptian antiquities in the world. A jaw dropping collection of statues, household objects, paintings, sarcophagi, altar pieces. One room has around a dozen imposing statues of Sekhmet, the lionheaded goddess of healing, all beautifully carved. One room had a huge rams head, again, meticulously carved. Moving from one gallery to another is a window through which you can see a storage area. As well as racks of mummies, sarcophagi and other stuff, there was a milk crate filled with mummified cats. In the main collection there were more mumified cats, a cat sarcophagus, a lovely little statues of a litter of cats, and this wonderful cat effigy.
After the Egyptian Museum we had a late lunch, then back for a bit of down time. Caught the end of stage three of the Giro, another horrible cold wet day for the riders by the look of it. I'll bet they will be glad when the race returns to Italy after the rest day tomorrow.
Tomorrow we head off to Verona. Early night then ...
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Torino Saturday 10 May, Day 17
A long day travelling today. After breakfast in the lovely courtyard of the hotel we headed off to join the rugby scrum at the Nice Ville railway station. We caught the French SCNF train to Ventmille, which is magically the same place as Ventimiglia, the start of the Italian train system. The train passes through Monaco as it winds along the Mediterranean coast. The equivalent of the GNP of a fair few nations floating just off that shore line, not to speak of the real estate.
From Ventimiglia the next leg off our journey took us to Genoa, a quick stop long enough to buy some supplies then onto the last leg to Torino. I like train travel - a bit like cycling in that it gives a good sense of the landscape and the geography - and a lot less tiring.
But we were still troppo stanco when we got here. The good news is that being Italy the Giro d'Italia is broadcast live, and we are in the right time zone, so we chilled out watching the poor riders slog through the Irish rain, and trying to glean something from the rapid fire Italian commentary. Can't imagine what having the Giro start in Ireland will do for Irish tourism though - put it back 10 years I'd reckon.
Torino has a nice vibe, and a lot less touristy than Nice for example. We had dinner in a very self respecting restaurant with lovely food then went for a stroll round some of the streets. A lot of the streets are a narrow with tall buildings right on the street - not a pretty city and the parking is a killer - I am glad I am not driving or looking for a parking spot here.
Tomorrow hopefully we will wake up full of energy and head off to explore some of the city's museums.
From Ventimiglia the next leg off our journey took us to Genoa, a quick stop long enough to buy some supplies then onto the last leg to Torino. I like train travel - a bit like cycling in that it gives a good sense of the landscape and the geography - and a lot less tiring.
But we were still troppo stanco when we got here. The good news is that being Italy the Giro d'Italia is broadcast live, and we are in the right time zone, so we chilled out watching the poor riders slog through the Irish rain, and trying to glean something from the rapid fire Italian commentary. Can't imagine what having the Giro start in Ireland will do for Irish tourism though - put it back 10 years I'd reckon.
Torino has a nice vibe, and a lot less touristy than Nice for example. We had dinner in a very self respecting restaurant with lovely food then went for a stroll round some of the streets. A lot of the streets are a narrow with tall buildings right on the street - not a pretty city and the parking is a killer - I am glad I am not driving or looking for a parking spot here.
Tomorrow hopefully we will wake up full of energy and head off to explore some of the city's museums.
Friday, May 9, 2014
Nice Friday 9 May, Day 16
Today we headed off through the quiet early morning streets of Marseille to catch our 7.30 train. Great coffee at the station, followed by a mad stampede of fellow passengers for the train once the platform was announced, but we managed to find seats together and sat watching Southern France slide past the train windows.
Left our bags at the hotel, and wandered over to the Chagall Museum. Some mighty expensive housing over that way. The climate is so nice and the place so pretty, I guess that's why the rich want to live here and I can't blame them.
We had a very pleasant lunch in the cafeteria in the lovely garden of the Museum, then headed back to check in and have a siesta which we both needed after the extremely early start today. The room is beautiful. It opens over a beautiful sunny court yard which has a nectarine tree laden with fruit. I feel like I am living in Matisse painting.
We have been wanting to send some stuff back home as we are moving into warmer climate and we have been accumulating stuff as we go along, so we set off down to the local post office with a bag of stuff winnowed from our cases. The whole experience would have made a great movie - fairly chaotic in there, with a rich cast of characters - but we got a box stamped and hopefully on its way back to Australia, and once again had cause to be grateful for the good humoured kindness that we have encountered so often in our time in France.
It was however a bit stressful, and we felt a bit frazzled on our walk around down town Nice, which actually felt a bit edgy and grungy - perhaps we walked down the wrong streets. The upside of getting lost was that we walked past the restaurant that the lady in the hotel had recommended. We seized the moment and made a reservation which was just as well as it was packed when we went back. And the food was excellent.
Tonight is our last night in France. We have enjoyed it enormously. My theory, which I formulated this evening over a bottle of lovely Cote de Provence Rouge, is that the French people are basically happy with their lives, and from that basis of happiness they can afford to be generous to strangers like us and also to one another. They have a real love of their country and a strong sense of being French, of a deep shared experience. Anyway, we would love to come back and maybe spend longer in some of the smaller places, perhaps more self catering next time.
Tomorrow a new country and a new language - just when I was getting the hang of Franglais.
Left our bags at the hotel, and wandered over to the Chagall Museum. Some mighty expensive housing over that way. The climate is so nice and the place so pretty, I guess that's why the rich want to live here and I can't blame them.
We had a very pleasant lunch in the cafeteria in the lovely garden of the Museum, then headed back to check in and have a siesta which we both needed after the extremely early start today. The room is beautiful. It opens over a beautiful sunny court yard which has a nectarine tree laden with fruit. I feel like I am living in Matisse painting.
We have been wanting to send some stuff back home as we are moving into warmer climate and we have been accumulating stuff as we go along, so we set off down to the local post office with a bag of stuff winnowed from our cases. The whole experience would have made a great movie - fairly chaotic in there, with a rich cast of characters - but we got a box stamped and hopefully on its way back to Australia, and once again had cause to be grateful for the good humoured kindness that we have encountered so often in our time in France.
It was however a bit stressful, and we felt a bit frazzled on our walk around down town Nice, which actually felt a bit edgy and grungy - perhaps we walked down the wrong streets. The upside of getting lost was that we walked past the restaurant that the lady in the hotel had recommended. We seized the moment and made a reservation which was just as well as it was packed when we went back. And the food was excellent.
Tonight is our last night in France. We have enjoyed it enormously. My theory, which I formulated this evening over a bottle of lovely Cote de Provence Rouge, is that the French people are basically happy with their lives, and from that basis of happiness they can afford to be generous to strangers like us and also to one another. They have a real love of their country and a strong sense of being French, of a deep shared experience. Anyway, we would love to come back and maybe spend longer in some of the smaller places, perhaps more self catering next time.
Tomorrow a new country and a new language - just when I was getting the hang of Franglais.
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