Tag Archives: Italy travel

Italy travel

High Water (Not Hell) in Venice, part 1

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^ the best greengrocer in Venezia, near Campo San Barnaba – at low tide!

This weekend Enrico and I were invited to Venice by my Woodstock classmate, Jeet, who’s renting a large apartment from Views on Venice, and keeping it filled with friends and family. In all my years in Italy, I’ve only been to Venice twice before, and have never stayed in the city overnight. So this is new and different and fun.

We arrived by train from Milan – in this week’s heavy rain, traffic all over Italy is a mess, we would have spent hours on the highway. The train got us right into the city with no car to dispose of, and Jeet’s place on Campo San Barnaba was a simple water bus/vaporetto ride away (we paid 30 euros for the 72-hour ticket, but ended up walking more than riding). NB: We didn’t bring much luggage, a tactic I would advise to anyone travelling to Venice. If you carry more than one piece per head, they charge you six euros extra on the water buses, and it wouldn’t be any fun hauling luggage around Venice.

We met Jeet at a caffé in Campo San Barnaba, and he led us back to the apartment, which is comfortably furnished and decorated in a cool, modern style.

^ This chair is surprisingly comfortable to sit on… yes, I know what you’re thinking!

As always with old friends, the joy is in conversation. We talked at home over wine, talked more over an excellent dinner at the Ristoteca Oniga in Campo San Barnaba: the others had sauteed mussels and clams, followed by roast lamb shank. I had lasagne baked with fresh ricotta and pumpkin, followed by prosciutto di San Daniele with a salad of fresh pears, figs, and arugula – all excellent. The house Merlot wasn’t bad, either. Then home for conversation and cards until past 1 am.

I was awoken this morning by the bells of a nearby church, ringing so insistently that I thought it might be some sort of alarm. And perhaps it was. With the heavy rains, the canals had been near to overflowing yesterday, Jeet told us – and then it rained last night.

Enrico and I went out, tiptoeing through some spots to avoid flooding our shoes, in search of breakfast – coffee and croissants at a nearby bar. Venice’s own variation on coffee is the macchiattone (“large spotted”); I haven’t quite figured out what that is yet. At this particular bar, both cappuccino and espresso were served in charming glass cups.

^ My first cappuccino of the cool season.

We wandered off through the calle, and eventually got on the #1 water bus to return to the apartment. The passerelle (mobile walkways) had been installed at the Ca’ Rezzonico boat stop – the pavement there was under water.

The last stretch of pavement between us and home was also now under 8 cm of water. Enrico waded through, I turned back and bought one of the last pairs of rubber boots available from a nearby shop.

Venice 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 , restaurant

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Italy travel

Cartoceto: A Geometric Town in Le Marche

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After the phenomenal dinner at Symposium, Susan and I shared a room at the Villa Cartoceto B&B. Though it’s a lovely place and I probably would have enjoyed it in other circumstances, I conclude that the old village houses in this part of Italy are built to withstand cold (or maybe invaders) rather than heat: our room was an oven, and by the time we got back after dinner (2 am) it was far too late to ask our hosts for a fan. We left both windows open, but there was hardly any breeze. I woke up at 5:30 am and sought relief on the rooftop terrace. If there’d only been something to lie on, they’d have found me still out there when they came to serve breakfast.

The view (above) did make up for quite a lot.

After breakfast we had some hours to kill, so we went to have a look at the village (which proved to be almost entirely stone and brick), on a day of record heat. It’s no wonder that we had the place practically to ourselves.

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^ This goddess sort of person sits atop a map of the town and one of its churches. Very mysterious.

I love the geometry of Cartoceto. There’s a lot of very tasteful (and very expensive) reconstruction going on – I wonder who’s behind that, and why. There is really not much to look at in the immediate town, no particular monuments (we couldn’t look inside the churches because we were not appropriately dressed).

Many of the houses were being beautifully restored, though few seemed to be inhabited that day.

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To give you an idea of the verticals, the photos above and below show the same man. He didn’t move for at least an hour. Not that I blame him: in that heat it was wiser to sit still.

2007 07 20 276 2007 07 20 272 2007 07 20 246 2007 07 20 240 2007 07 20 226  2007 07 20 203 2007 07 20 185 2007 07 20 187

 

full photo gallery here

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bio, Italian culture

Where Italians Go on Vacation

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Someone asked on Frommer’s: “Where do Italians go on vacation?”

The majority go to the beach. For at least a century, a seaside vacation has been considered healthful: during the Fascist period, ocean front “colonies” were built, where urban children could be sent to escape the grime of the cities.

The month-long summer vacation is still a reality for many Italians, who transfer their families (often including one or more grandparents) to a seaside hotel, apartment, or a trailer and tent in a campground. Even if Dad’s working, Mom and the kids will be there, with Dad perhaps driving down at weekends. Many families own second homes at or near the seaside, so take their vacations in the same place, year after year. It seems to be part of Italian culture to crave the comfort of familiarity and routine, even when you’re away from home.

Italy is a long peninsula, and also owns a lot of islands in a range of sizes, so there are plenty of beaches to go to, depending on your tastes and the size of your wallet. Choices range from the upscale, such as Portofino, Sardegna’s “Emerald Coast”, and Capri to… places that normal people can afford.

For family reasons, most of my Italian beach experiences to date have been very much in the affordable category, in Abruzzo on Italy’s central Adriatic coast. Having grown up in Thailand when it was still an unspoiled tropical paradise, I was astonished the first time I saw the Italian idea of a holiday beach: row after row of umbrellas, so close together that you could barely see the sand between them. I never have learned to see the charm of this.

(^ The photo at top shows a relatively roomy beach, by some Italian standards!)

Far from being relaxing, Italian resort towns are usually buzzing with activity: from early morning until late at night, you see (and hear) everyone (old and young) out and about, swimming, sunning (yes, tanning is still considered healthy here), strolling, chatting, eating gelato, being “animated“, until late at night. At least the afternoon siesta is held sacred!

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I Bersaglieri

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I’ve been trying for years to capture a fanfara (band) of the Bersaglieri, and yesterday finally had my chance. Because I was commuting back home from Milan, the only equipment I had on me was my new Canon SD800IS digital camera, which I’d never tried for video before. Now I’ve learned the hard way not to use the zoom during video. But the sound quality is surprisingly good.

The occasion was a teaser for an exhibition of marching show bands held in Lecco last night, which we did not attend, nor did I stick around to record the interventi (speeches) by local politicians which always “grace” such occasions.

Note the military deployment of cellphone at the very end of the video!

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Italy travel, travel

Airport Reports: Malpensa

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Looks as if I’m a frequent traveller again this year, and I hope that will hold true for some time to come. I’ve been relatively quiet for the last six years – usually only one annual trip outside Europe – but it’s time to spread my wings again. Travel woman: that’s who I am and what I do.

Today’s flight, courtesy of Sun Microsystems, takes me from Milan to Frankfurt to Denver, on a United Airlines-Lufthansa code share. First problem arises from “code share.” I woke up at 3 am with an anxiety attack (I do that sometimes) and thought I should check in online in advance, as I had done coming back from my last trip on British Airways (they even had a very cute online application that let me choose my seats).

The tickets for this trip were purchased (by AmEx Business Travel, using my credit card), from United Airlines, but the aircraft appears to be Lufthansa all the way. So I went to the Lufthansa.com to check in. They didn’t recognize my credit card, kept asking for another. And that was the only option offered – no possibility to enter the record number, which I have on the printed out e-ticket.

I tried United’s website, and they apparently recognized me via the credit card, but told me I had to check in with Lufthansa. Argh.

Went back to sleep, woke up at 5:15, showered, drank coffee, dithered and fiddled until Antonello (o peerlessly faithful taxi driver!) arrived bang on time at 6. In spite of a sudden thunderstorm along the way, we reached Malpensa just after 7, and I was checked in by 7:15.

Malpensa is not the world’s most interesting airport – no real bookshops and no music/video shops. I had another coffee (decaf this time), fresh-squeezed OJ, and a chocolate croissant for breakfast, went on through security (no line! I am always going to fly on Tuesdays from now on for the rest of my life – flights on Tuesdays are cheaper, too).

There are lots of expensive fashion shops at Malpensa, but nothing I’d actually buy. A nice business class lounge would be a welcome refuge, but KLM, in spite of the Platinum status they reinstated me to a while ago, won’t let me sit in their lounge because I’m not flying on them or one of their partner airlines (what good is Platinum membership if I can’t use it anytime I damn well please?). And I can’t use Lufthansa’s lounge because I’m not flying business class with them.

So I’m sitting on the floor by the departure gate next to a wall socket (look for them on the columns near the windows) – might as well save my laptop’s battery while I can, it’s going to be a long trip. This is the only socket for miles and I’ve got it – several other laptop owners are eyeing me jealously.

Destination for this flight is Frankfurt. Also not my favorite airport. I’ve flown through there to India several times, and the terminal those flights leave from is remarkably lacking in services. Probably the US flights leave from a different terminal, hopefully with something a little more exciting in the way of food than German sausages and beer (which are only available from smoke-filled bars).

Security

Here in Milan, I did not have to take out my laptop or take my shoes off. Does this mean their equipment is different (it looks the same as any other airport x-ray)? Or should I be worried about lax security? Or (sshh! don’t tell!) does this mean that the elaborate procedures at other airports are designed to make us feel more secure when actually we aren’t?

Dressing for Travel

In the travel forums I frequent, American tourists often ask how they can dress to not look like tourists in Italy. Some other American tourists reply: “They’re going to know you’re a foreigner anyway, so why bother?” But that misses the point.

I wish all American tourists were so attentive to the cultures they are visiting as to actively research how to dress for the local culture. On my last trip through Heathrow, I noticed a group of teenage girls travelling together (I always wonder where these globetrotting kids are going, and why), and was horrified by their attire. Most were wearing sweatshirts, baggy capri-length trousers, and flip-flops. One even had her U-shaped travel pillow stuck firmly around her neck. They all looked as if they had just come off the beach.

I’m neither a prude nor a snob, and there is something I like about Americans’ relaxed attitude towards dressing. It can be a profound relief after the “keeping up with the Joneses” fashionability of Italians (I don’t always bother). But, when in a foreign country, it seems disrespectful. I wish some of my fellow citizens would think a little harder about the impression they make on others.

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