Photos

Uploaded the photos I took in Rome (just a few; I've already got a lot from my last trip) and Monterosso al Mare, the third and final village I visited in Cinque Terre.

Pari'

Flew to Paris today, then caught a cab to my hostel.

Was a bit pricey, but the cabbie was AWESOME. Kept pointing out things I had to make sure I saw, and kept explaining the history of the things we were passing. Tried to tip her, and she just waved it away, saying, "No, I've been a student before, living on a student's budget. You go have fun."

And they say the French are mean =)

Tuscany

Daytrip 1: Sienna, Montelicino, Piensa, Montelpulciano

I woke up around 7, showered, and made my bleary-eyed, runny-nosed way downstairs, where I met the driver who was taking me to the tour meeting point. Very nice guy. Worked as a jeweler until the economy crashed and wiped out most of Naples jewelry market. As a result, he moved up to Florence and started in the tourism business.

Anyway, he dropped me off at the bus, where my guide Elio took over. Short, squat, and very Italian are words that all applied to Elio, and he was quite friendly and talkative (i.e. Italian). Anyway, me and about 10 other people crammed into the van and were off!

First stop: Sienna, home of the Palio horse race, 17 districts of the city that all hate each other, and the banks that started the banking families of Tuscany (the Medici included) on their way to power. We had a short tour of the town, past a few churches and through a few squares (you can see how much attention I pay to those now), eventually ending up at the main square of Sienna, where the Palio horse race (viewed shortly in the James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace) is held twice a year. It's essentially the Italian version of the Kentucky Derby. People spend weeks getting ready for the event, even though it only lasts about 3 minutes start to finish.

Anyway, after exploring the town, the tour took us to a shop where we tried some Siennese sweets: Panforte (fruitcake with more fruit than cake), Ricetta (cookies made with almonds, honey, and egg yolks), and panepato (spicy fruitcake). I bought some of the Ricetta and a half-bottle of dessert wine, then went exploring. We only had about an hour, so I didn't get far, but I did buy a souvenir map and a breakdown of the 17 districts and flags.

After that we went to Montelcino, where we explored the town for a short while (pretty medieval town, not many tourists) then went to a winery where we tried Brunello, a dry red wine famous in the region (which, much like Chianti, can only be made in one specific region of Tuscany). We crammed into a cellar, drank wine, and ate salami and prociutto for about an hour, learned how to decant old wine (apparently you should decant a bottle of wine older than about 20 years at least 20 hours in advance), then jumped back in the van.

Next up: Pienza, another small medieval town, to try some pecorino cheese, and get lost in a few back alleys. After exploring for a bit, I went back to the meeting point, but only Keikko (a Japanese woman whose Navy husband was stationed in Sicily) was there on time. I was worried they had left us, but the rest of the group showed up 15 minutes late (there was a Brazilian couple that was slooooooow, and they apparently held everyone up).

Last stop of the tour: Montepulciano, another wine making city, this time famous for making Vino Nobile, a slightly sweeter red wine than Brunello, but still very dry for my taste (I love dry whites, but dry reds just make my face pucker). After that, back in the van and back to Florence. The ride back was interesting; the only other Americans on the tour had a son who was just about to start his second year of college in business. His school didn't have a good career department, but he wanted an internship, and wasn't sure how to do about it. I told the couple everything I knew about getting internships, and they just about hugged me.

Anyway, back in Florence, I grabbed some pizza at the train station, walked back to my hostel, grabbed all my things, and dragged it (and me) to my new place. Once I got it all there, I CRASHED. My cold had been dragging on me all day, so I was exhausted.

Daytrip 2: Sienna, Chianti, San Gimignano, Pisa

This probably would've been my favorite trip, except I felt sick for most of it.Thanks to my cold, I didn't get to sleep until around 1-2 am, and I had to be up at 6 to make the tour on time (no pickup at the hotel, so I had to walk to the station). So, a combination of sleep-deprivation and coughing had me feeling a little sluggish.

But: I wasn't about to pass up a chance to see Tuscany, so I just bit the bullet. (Oh, and note to family: I feel fine now)

Anyway, the first stop was Sienna again, and was slightly more informative. The Siennese guide the first day was in a hurry for another apointment, so we didn't see much. This guide walked us through the history of the city and its rivalry with Florence, showed us the original banking offices, walked us through the monastary-turned-hospital, and then let us wander the square. I had some calls to my hostel to make (the bathroom in my hostel was jammed, I didn't know the wifi password, and I wasn't sure if I had to swap rooms for my last night) so I just found a cozy spot in the square.

Next, lunch at an organic farm in Chianti. 'Twas very tasty, and the cows they kept were adorable (including the one that looked like it was about to explode it was so pregnant). Why they walked us through there before feeding us beef ragu (made from those cows' colleagues) is beyond me. It was tasty, though. As was the rest of the meal (another post). The white wine (Vernaccia) was particularly good; it reminded me of vinho verde in Portugal. After lunch (where I talked with a design student from Kansas and a couple from Singapore), we took some photos in the Tuscan contryside and crammed on the bus.

Next up was San Gimagnano (San-Jimmy-Nyan-Oh), a medieval town famous for its towers. The town was gorgeous but, unfortunately, I have no real thoughts on it. By this point, I was EXHAUSTED from lack of sleep, so I grabbed a soda and sat on some church steps for most of the time there. I did some shopping towards the end too (they're famous for their alabaster and wine), but that's about it. It didn't help that there was a medieval festival going on, so the main square was shut down (otherwise I would have tried to climb one of the towers). Anyway, coke, sit, shop, BACK ON THE BUS!!!

Next up was Pisa. Thankfully, it was an hour and a half away. The tour guide managed to say this and "Feel free to take a-" before I was asleep. I woke up ten minutes outside of Pisa and felt like I could run a mile. Take the sleep deprivation out of a cold, and it gets much better, apparently. Who knew?

Anyway, we got to Pisa and hopped on a tourist train to take us to the Cathedral Square (saving us 20 minutes of walking in 85 degree heat. I felt like kissing the driver. Despite the fact he was a hairy, 40-year old, Italian man). Once on the square, our guide showed us how to take the typical cheesy picture (I refrained, and I have several photos showing WHY I refrained), but I did take a picture with the tower. Afterwards I went to the Campo Santo (the burial ground there, where Fibonacci is buried, and where Galileo WOULD have been buried if Florentines hadn't claimed his remains). Next, I went to the Baptistery, just in time to hear a demonstration of the acoustics of the room. Well. Demonstrations. One official one and about a half-dozen unofficial ones. Bring a 4-year old into a room with an echo and tell him to be quiet. See how well that goes. (The kids who would stomp around then protest, "But I didn't say anything!" were my favorite). After that, a few last minute photos of the tower (and accidentally crashing an impromptu photoshoot where a spanish teenager laid in the grass and umm...strategically placed the tower to mimic a certain part of his anatomy. Nice to see all teenagers are stupid, and not just the American ones) then back on the bus.

Officially, the tour ended here, though it was another 2.5 hours back to Florence. It normally took 1-1.5, but there was a ton of traffic from the beach, too. So, I sat and listened to the lady behind me smack her gum for 2 hours and her daughter complain about how her water wasn't cold anymore (try not leaving it in the sun, sugar). I was quite happy to scamper off the bus by the time we were home. Once there, I tried to grab a cab, couldn't find one, so I just walked home, skyped my dad (who suspiciously had video turned off. Can't imagine why), and went to bed.

Daytrip 3: Chianti

I got a much better night's sleep that night and REALLY felt the difference the next morning. I strolled down to the Florence Town office (the company leading the tour) and hopped on the bus with our guide, Matteo, a Tuscan sommelier. He drove us through Chianti for a bit, then up to the Castello Sonnino winery in Montespertoli, which he thought to be the finest wine-making town in the world. It WAS very good, I'll give him that. Anyway, he gave us a tour of the whole process, from growing to harvesting to fermentation to three kinds of aging (including opening up one of the casks, which he was NOT supposed to do). Afterwards, he showed us how they made Vino Santo, a VERY sweet dessert wine made by basically drying the grapes to raisins before fermenting them (more sugar percentage at the start means more sugar left over when the yeast get killed by the alcohol percentage). They don't actually sell much of the stuff outside the vineyard. It's so expensive to make that no one would buy it after shipping and markup, so you have to get it at the winery. Even then they sell it at a loss; most wineries just use it to try and get people to come try their other wines, too.

Oh, also. I'm a bit of a troll, if you don't know, and when I see an opportunity to troll someone, I take it. Out of curiosity, I asked how an average Chianti wine differented in taste from an average Napa Valley wine (meaing drier, sweeter, oakier, etc.). Matteo just looked horrified and said, "It's better. There's no comparison there." So, sensing an opening, I asked, "If I wasnted to get, say, a bottle of Merlot from California, could I get that in Florence?" Matteo just kind of paled and said, "I don't know. Yes? Why would you do such a thing. You're in Tuscany." I couldn't help but poke at his overdeveloped ego. So sue me.

Anyway, after the tour, the winery fed us lunch and let us try some wine. The wine was good (the chianti especially, obviously) as was pretty much everything else. I felt like I was in some kind of movie, though, when the door to the courtyard opened and the matron of the vineyard came in carrying a basket of fruit, dog glued to her side, and said, "I have some fresh-picked fruit for you, here. Let me go wash it and I'll be right back with it." Seriously? How 'Under the Tuscan Sun' can you get?

After lunch, some shopping at the vineyard store (I was pretty much the only one who didn't stock up), then off to another vineyard. Can't remember the name of this one, but it was a bit bigger. They had some gorgeous gardens with a lot of Lavender (which was actually blooming. Didn't see that in Provence). Also had a chat with a fellow touree, who was originally from Quebec, but retired to Thailand. He was planning on stocking up as much as possible, since the Thai government taxes foreign wine imports something like 150%. After seeing the gardens, Matteo explained how olive oil was made (the winery was also an organic olive farm), then we headed up for a wine and cheese tasting. I didn't like this wine as much (it had a more industrial-size feel to it; the other winery was TINY compared to this one), but the cheese was excellent. The conversation was also good, too. Six glasses of wine over the course of an afternoon works wonders with turning strangers into new friends. We talked about politics, travels, technology, and a couple other things, then crammed back in the van and headed home. Thankfully, we got back mid afternoon instead of late at night, so I had time for a nap before dinner.

Florence

Day 1

Turns out, there was a regional train to Florence from La Spezia, so I didn't need a seat reservation. I just hopped on, and we were off.

I was incredibly sedentary my first day, and sat around the hostel. Not because I was lazy, but because I had grabbed a STACK of brochures from the front desk, and was trying to figure out which daytrips I wanted to take. I eventually settled on three (described below), bit the bullet, and made around 250 euro of charges to my card. I just about melted.

Anyway, after I made the decisions, I wandered the city a bit, then crossed the Arno to eat dinner at Piazza Pitti. On the way back, I stopped to grab some shots of the sun setting over the Arno.

Day 2

OH LORD THE RUNNING.

I spent pretty much this entire day running around doing errands. First I ran to the train station to reserve a seat to Rome, but the computers were down, so they couldn't. Next, I ran to the tourist office next door to have the tour pick me up at my hostel (otherwise, I'd have to be up at 6 to make it to the departure point near the train station in time). Thankfully, that wasn't a problem.

Next, hostels. I had to split my time in Florence between two hostels, but since the desk at the second hostel was only open while I was on my tour, I had to run and grab my key and check in early. So, I booked it across town to my hostel (funnily enough, it was next door to where I had eaten the night before), grabbed the keys, paid up, and left.

After that, I swung by the hostel I had been staying in and made sure they wouldn't throw my stuff away if I left it after check out (so I didn't have to take it on the tour with me the following morning). They said 'no problem,' so I ran back to the train station. Thankfully, it was up and running again, so I grabbed my ticket.

By this point, it was around dinner time, so I grabbed dinner and headed home. I didn't get to see many sights in Florence, but, then again, I've seen them all already. Only thing I still haven't seen was the Uffizi, which wasn't high on my list anyway.

Cinque Terre

Day 1

The next day, Sean and I bid each other a tearful farewell and hopped on trains heading different directions. Sean went to Genova for a daytrip, and I left for the next city on my list: Riomaggiore, one of the five villages in Cinque Terre. The trip was pretty uneventful. Met two couples (one Brazilian and one Australian) that were headed the same way. (Sidenote: I ended up accidentally stalking the Brazilian couple all through Cinque Terre. They passed me on a hike, then I bumped into them at a restaurant in Monterosso, then walked past them on the beach). Once in Riomaggiore, I had to walk down a tunnel from the station to the main street, which was lined with all sorts of colorful mosaics and tiles. When I got to my hostel, I found out I wasn't quite done lugging stuff around. Turns out, the front desk of my hostel was on the main street, but the room itself was a ways down the road, then up 6 flights of stairs. Blech.

Anyway, I spent day 1 just exploring Riomaggiore. I wandered down to the 'beach' (a stretch of about 10 feet of rocks along the water), up to the main street, up just a bastard of a hill, to a little castle overlooking the town and the water. I sat there and read for a bit and texted with my family, then went down for dinner. 

On the way back to the hostel, I passed my roommates, who were all watching a soccer game on TV outside a bar, so I joined them. That actually became the theme of Cinque Terre. Euro 2012 was going on while I was there, so every night there was a different game on. None of us were huge soccer fans, but we all headed down and watched anyways. Good excuse to chat.

Anyway, everyone had about a glass of wine, and the guys were ready to call it a night...then the girls decided they wanted more. So they ran up, grabbed the 1.50 euro cartons of wine (yes, cartons. Real quality stuff there) they had bought earlier, and started refilling their glasses. They each had about 5 glasses apiece and were...solidly not sober by the end of the night. This led to one of them giving me a lecture on the dangers of Romney's Mormonism. I just nodded solemnly and promised to take her warnings to heart.

Day 2

The girls woke up nursing some rather nasty hangovers, and me and the other guys tried (with very little success) to not smile too obnoxiously. Anyway, the room pretty much cleared out except for me and the two girls from Vancouver. I spent the day walking the Via dell'Amore, a paved section of trail between Manarola and Riomaggiore. I laughed at what some creative people used when they realized they had forgotten a lock to lock to the railing (some romantic tradition); some people tied bags and food wrappers around it, which was just funny to see. When I got to Manorola, I walked a ways up the main street, saw how steep it was, and walked right back down. After that, I grabbed some tasty lunch and kept walking the Cinque Terre trail.

Normally, you can walk straight through all five towns, but a mudslide this winter knocked out the one between Manorola and Corniglia, so I could only go a little ways. Still, it was enough to get a really pretty photo of Manorola, so I was happy. I even bumped into two of the girls from the hostel. After that, I walked back home.

That night, my roomates and I did a repeat performance of going to the bar to watch soccer. This time, it was me, the two girls from Vancouver, and two girls from the UK (one from Shropshire and the other from Manchester). No, I don't know why so many of my roommates have been pretty girls. No, I'm not bribing the front desk. Whyever would you think that? Anyway, when the game finished, we headed upstairs, met our two new Norweigan roommates, Tina and Tonya, and three new female Australian roommates (Dear world, Please send some of this surplus of women on the road to Tech. Love, Chris), planned the next day, went go to bed. By the way, if you're keeping count, that's me as the only male in a full 8-bed hostel room. I haven't felt that outnumbered since the last time I went to one of John Zelek's acapella concerts.

Day 3

I woke up with a nasty cold, and my throat in particular was not happy with me. I wheezed a bit, then got up and decided to go on with my plans. I caught the train to Monterosso al Mare, the largest of the five villages, and the only one with an actual beach (unless you count the nude beach near Vernazza. Which I certainly don't). I got there, sat watching the waves for a bit, then grabbed lunch, where I met two girls from Florida, who were studying in Florence and had taken a day trip to Cinque Terre. We chatted a bit, and when I ordered, the waiter poured me a shot of limoncello. I don't know why. He didn't say anything either, just plunked it down, smiled, and left. Then again, I'm not complaining.

With a great stroke of timing, I left the restaurant right as my two new british friends were walking past. We wandered for a bit, then grabbed some gelato, ate it near the beach, and mocked Suzanne for her inability to keep the chocolate ice cream off her hands. The mockery only intensified when she started licking it off, realizing that she still had sunscreen on her hands.

Anyway, after ice cream, the girls went back home, and I wandered up the hill aways, intending to kill 20 minutes while waiting for a train. I ended up finding the other half of Monterosso hiding behind the mountain, and spent about an hour and a half exploring (and watching the end of a game of petanque).

Afterwards, I headed back to Riomaggiore, tried a glass of the girls' 2 euro white wine, made a face, and poured them a glass of some 12 euro wine (which, after tax and shipping, would go for about $40 in the States). Lydia now hates me, because she can't drink the 2 euro stuff. Then, dinner (at Ripa del Sole, a swanky slow-food seafood place at the top of Riomaggiore), watching the tail end of the soccer game, then bed.

Milan

Okay, catching up on all my posts up to Rome:

Day 1

Got in, got a set of metro tickets (with some unasked for help at the metro station) and checked into our (rather swanky) hotel. Not sure why that place was only 35 euro a piece per night, but I'm not complaining. It was a rather long train ride, so we got in right before dinner time. We planned a bit, thumbing through travel guides and whatnot, then headed to Dinner at a little place down the street, where the Italians began their ongoing campaign to feed me to death. That night, I bought an hour of internet, and caught up on posts and such, then bed.

Day 2

The next morning, we realized two things, in the following order:

1. Hey! Da Vinci's "Last Supper" is here!
2. Hey, we're NOT getting to see Da Vinci's "Last Supper!"

Apparently, you have to book 2-3 weeks in advance, and the booking fee is 15 euro. To see one painting. Then, apparently, it's often sold completely out, WEEKS in advance, because scalpers buy all the tickets, then sell them for upwards of FIFTY EURO outside the church where the painting is.

Needless to say, we didn't go.

Instead, we went to the Duomo of Milan (apparently, the second biggest cathedral in the world), where we were kinda bowled over by the sheer size of it. St. Peter's has it beat on both size and quality, but the cathedral in Milan just FEELS massive. After that, we went to the Galleria, the first "shopping mall" in the world. It's basically two intersecting covered walkway full of (really really pricey) shops. I did find it HILARIOUS however that the four stores on the intersection are Gucci, Prada, a ritzy antiques store, and...McDonalds. 'murica. After that, we headed over to the Parco Sempione to wander a bit. They were setting up for a local music festival, so it was fun to just wander and listen for a bit. There was a roving brass band that was HYSTERICAL. They were playing in a clearing when the bandleader spotted a couple making out in the grass. They snuck over and surrounded them (everyone following them of course), then started playing while standing all around the (now very embarrassed) couple.

After that, dinner (we were boring and went to the same place), avoiding a huge thunderstorm by a few minutes, then bed.

Day 3

The next day, we realized that we missed one of the main draws of the Duomo: going on the roof. So, we got our lift tickets, went up, and were massively underwhelmed by how small the section we could walk on was. Then we realized that that little square was about 1/10 of where we could go, so we wandered about, much more satisfied.

Afterwards, we went into a ten-story shopping mall full of NOTHING but Armani, Gucci, Prada, Versacce, Burberry, etc. etc. etc. ... and one tiny electronics store. I'm not complaining, that's what got me my baby back! Anyway, after that, we wandered through an electronics/games/movie/musical supply store in the Galleria and headed home.

Ah, Roma!

In Rome, after what was probably the most uneventful train trip of the summer.

Good to be back, even if it is hot as all hell here!

Monaco

Getting to Monaco from Nice is criminally easy. You hop on the #100 bus, pay the driver a euro, and hop of 45 minutes later. So, we went to visit our third day in Nice. Oh, and Robin came with us, too.

We got in at the foot of the ‘hill’ (it’s a ‘hill’ at the base of the Alps. So…not a hill) that the prince’s palace is on top off, hiked up to the palace and got a GORGEOUS view of the country. We didn’t go in (it’s a palace, and we’ve seen just a few of those since we got here), but it was worth the climb just for the view. The entire country is 0.75 sq miles, and you can walk from one end to the other in about 20 minutes (and later we did).

After that, we wandered to the Oceanographic Institute, which was just a wee bit crazy. Mix equal parts royal history, aquarium, and modern art, and you’re pretty close. The ground floor had several samples of sea life that a former prince (who did oceanography as a hobby) collected, pickled, and brought back, as well as some cool/weird modern art. The next floor had a ton of the equipment the prince used while at sea, as well as a reconstruction of his lab. It also had some of the weirdest modern art I’ve ever seen. Think “Bronze statues of skeletons having sex while the entire pedestal is on fire.”

The roof was supposed to be a great view of Monaco, but the floor and walls were solid white, and the sun was reflecting off of them so much we couldn’t see anything, so we left pretty quickly (but not before seeing some tortoises get into a very, very sloooow fight over their food bowl). The bottom floor was an aquarium, which was so-so. After Atlanta and New Orleans, anything else is underwhelming.

After that, we grabbed a couple of sandwiches and ate on the plateau where the prince stashes his cannons. Then, we started the walk to the casino, which was not difficult, but a little confusing. The Monaco Grand Prix had just been the week or two before, and the stands and barriers were still up, so we had to back-track a couple of times. Once we got on the right path, though, it wasn’t bad, especially since we got to ogle the yachts, some of which just made me shake my head. Why do you need a helipad on your yacht? Are you just too lazy to walk from your mansion to the dock?

Anyway, after passing the yachts, we actually made it to Monte Carlo. To get to the casino from sea level, you have to take an elevator up a ways. We weren’t sure we had the right spot, until we noticed that the tunnel leading to the elevators was lined with marble. Once we made it up the hill and around the opera house, we found the entrance, where the cars out front didn’t disappoint. There was Bentley, two Lamborghinis, and a Ferrari in the spots immediately in front. We drooled a bit. Not too close to the cars, though. The security didn’t look even slightly friendly.

Anyway, cameras aren’t allowed in the casino, so no photos unfortunately. Shame, too. The place is GORGEOUS. The ceilings are covered in crown moldings and paintings, gaming tables and bars are all carved hardwood, and there are huge hunks of semi-precious stones set into the ceiling at regular intervals (we saw hunks turquoise, agate, aquamarine, and some others we didn’t recognize that were as big as our heads).

Anyway, Sean and I went into the private salons (no shorts allowed, so Robin had to stay behind), which were slightly more ornate than the main rooms, but the people were a great deal more…serious…about their gaming. We watched some people play roulette for a while, and were just ever so slightly amazed at the money some people were dropping. One guy was playing with 10 euro chips, and would bet 20-30 of them per game. He had a stack of 500 euro bills with him, and he’d change one out for new chips every 3 or 4 spins.

We decided to try our hands at roulette (the only game there that had a minimum bet we could actually afford), so we each got a few chips. I didn’t really consider it ‘gambling.’ I just assumed I’d get none of the money I put down back. Which wasn’t too far off. We played a few rounds just playing red or black, seeing as the odds on playing any particular number were so low we were basically guaranteed to bottom out before we one. One bet was (literally) stolen from me. A guy walked over, picked up one of my chips on black and flipped it to red. When red one, I reached for it, and he shouted me down. I just let him take it. Not a soul in there was speaking English, and I wasn’t about to start an argument in French.

After that, we cashed out (I lost about 20 euro in half an hour), but kept a few chips for souvenirs. Then, we wandered out to the terrace, where we saw a guy playing Baccarat on his own, surrounded by about 4 casino employees. We didn’t see how much he was betting per hand, but we did see three 10,000 euro chips, two 50,000 euro chips, and a 100,000 euro chip in front of him.

Anyway, afterwards, we got our cameras from the coat check, and decided to go see the Prince’s rare car collection. It wasn’t on our map, though, so Sean ran in to ask someone in the casino. He said he walked up to one of the doormen and asked if he spoke English, and the reaction was as follows:

“He looked at me over his Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses with a ‘How dare you talk to me, you grimy commoner?’ look, and responded, ‘Nyuh. Yes.’ I asked if he knew where the car collection was, and he said, “I don’t know. Go that way, maybe,’ and waved his hand in a random direction”

After that, we decided that if we ever came into money, we’d show up at the casino in hoodies and shorts and break the bank, just to spite the bastard.

Turns out, he was waving us in the general direction of the tourism office, so we went there and got directions, after which Sean and Robin were slightly distracted by an odd voltmeter on the wall. We started wandering back to the palace (the map made it look like it was attached), and passed a few realty offices (who pays 1.5 million euro for a 300 sq. ft. studio?). Turns out, the collection is next to the palace on a map, but is, in reality, at the foot of the cliff the palace is on. So, we climbed to the top, realized our mistake, sighed, and climbed back down. The cars were worth it, though. The prince had everything from a Mercedes-Benz concept car, to one of the first automobiles ever made, to a racing boat, to a polar excursion vehicle. We drooled over those for a long while, then grabbed the bus back to Nice.

Uploading photos

Doing things a bit out of order. Uploading my Cinque Terre photos before Nice, Monaco, or Milan, for no other reason than I like them better.

Hope you enjoy!

In Cinque Terre, Headed to Florence today!

Hi all,

Sorry for being so behind. I've been in Cinque Terre (a series of five villages on the west coast of Italy, near La Spezia) for the past three days, and am headed to Florence in about 4 hours. Cinque Terre was one of my favorite places so far, so I'll definitely be uploading some posts about it, but for now, just a quick update.

Left Sean in Milan (he's back in the states by now), and caught the train to La Spezia, then a regional train from La Spezia to Riomaggiore, where I stayed all three nights. It's actually one of the smaller villages, which made finding a place to stay tricky (very few places would rent a room to just one person; most would require me to pay for two), but was really cool, as it meant I got to know the village pretty well, even though I visited two others as well. Anyway, it's absolutely beautiful here, so I got a ton of photos I'm really happy with.

Now, I'm off to Florence, which I'm going to use as a base to explore Tuscany for five days. Don't have any particular plans for what to see, though I'd like to go on a vineyard tour in Chianti. I figure I'll just head to the tourism office as soon as I get there and see what day trips I can book.

Anyway, off to catch a train!

Nice

(Apologies for the lack of photos. I literally didn't think WiFi could function if the upload speed was this slow. Oh well, I didn't come to Cinque Terre for the internet. I'll upload some when I get to Florence, hopefully.)

Nice is very much a beach town, so we kinda followed a beachy schedule the entire time we were there.

Day 1, we got in mid-afternoon, and it was surprisingly cool, since it had just finished raining, so we just went and chilled at the beach. We walked down the Riviera, wandered a ways down the Promenade Anglais, found a good-looking bar on the beach, grabbed a beer, and sat looking at the water for a while. An excellent day, even if we had to pay 8 euro a pop for the beers. Was also funny to sit there and watch the police driving the lifeguard boat show off to impress the girls on the beach, almost grounding the blade on the motor in the process.

The next day, we did some more exploring, this time along a guided walk in Rick Steve’s guide to the Riviera. We got started at the Hotel Negresco, which can be summed up quite aptly as “old money.” Big, fancy place, covered in portraits, paintings, marble, mahogany, and crystal. The chandelier, by the way, was actually designed and built for the czar of Russia, but he couldn’t take delivery when it was completed, seeing as he was, you know, dead. So, the hotel bought it at a discount. It was funny going in; we weren’t sure if they’d let tourists go wandering around, so we just tried to look fancy enough that we could conceivably be staying there. We figured they wouldn’t turn people away unless they obviously were tourists, in case they were staying there. Turns out that was a good idea, as they had a guy in a suit in the lobby who looked like he was profiling people as they came in.

When we left, there was a team of people getting two girls ready to go parasailing, so we stopped to see how it worked, since neither of us had actually seen parasailers get up in the air. Turns out, they just hook you up to the boat, start driving, and tell you to run. Was fun to watch, especially since we’d occasionally hear one of the girls squeal when they drivers would take a corner. (Keep in mind, they were NOT driving close to the beach, so they had a set of lungs on them).

The next day, we were in Monaco, which will be its own post, but the next day was just kind of a chore day. We hauled our stuff to the laundromat to get some clean clothes, and I ran to the post office to get rid of some souvenirs. Oh, and ship my mom her (very belated) mother’s day gift. The post office was funny; apparently the French dislike for receipts extends to their shipping philosophy. I expedited two packages to the states, dropped them in the box, and left. About a block away, I had the realization that I’d just handed the French postal system around 200 euro of souvenirs, and didn’t even get a receipt, let alone a tracking number. I ran back, and the guy said it was 5 euro extra per package. C’est la vie.

Anyway, after that, I pretty much just wandered Nice on my own for a bit. Wandered around a few shops, through the touristy old city, through the actual old city, and back up the Riviera. Actually saw something in one of the shops that even I wouldn’t eat (yes, Ponnie, it does exist). They took a suckling pig, stuffed it full of scrapple (ears, snouts, tails, etc.), roasted it, then chilled it so the scrapple would recongeal. They sold it by the slice. Also passed a store that sold different kinds of salt, which was actually pretty cool. They had black volcanic salt from Hawaii, blue salt from the Mediterranean, red salt from the atlantic, and a few others.

My baby's back!

Laptop's working again. Thank you random electronics store in Milan.

Now: I have a week's worth of photos and posts to get started on. Ciao for a bit!

Pebble beaches

So, Nice is famous for its beaches, but they're not beaches like we think of them. Instead of sand, they're smooth pebbles. It's a lot of fun to look at, but not much fun to walk on or lay on. You pretty much have to buy special shoes and mats if you want to be at the beach.

But! They do have one cool thing about them: the sound.

When a wave hits the beach, it splashes just like it would normally, but when it goes out again, you hear this loud 'woosh' as the water goes through all the little spaces between pebbles. Then you can hear the smaller pebbles rolling and clattering around, which is surprisingly entertaining to listen to.

Last days in Provence

So, for our last two days in Avignon, we booked a daytrip around Roman Provence (the baths, arena, and monument to Austus in Nimes, the Pont du Gard, and Uzes thrown in for good measure) and tickets to Arles for a day trip.

The tour was a lot of fun. The company was called Provence Panorama and had several tours based on the things provence is famous for (wine, truffles, flowers, roman ruins, etc). They picked us up in a van outside our hotel and drove us to all the sites.

Nimes has some amazin roman architecture (it's hard to call them 'ruins' when they're still standing and in pretty good shape), and their arena is excellent. The commentary was very un-provencal in that it was actually fun to listen to. They did a great job of explaining what life and the games were like back then, and even walked through a day of particularly interesting games.

Nimes itself was pretty interesting, too, or at least the description our guide gave us was. The city was a huge textile and industrial center for decades, so he city was (and to some extent, still is) swimming in money. As a result, they didn't really want or need tourism, so the city flat out refused to allow a hotel to be built there until the middle of the 20th century. It's still not exactly a tourist-friendly town, apparently.

Next, we headed to Uzes, the definition of a sleepy little French town. The guide walked us through the city, showing us all the little alleys and the gorgeous main square that make the city a lot of fun to walk around. She pointed out a mulberry tree which had some ripe berries on it (tasted like a very sweet, seedless blackberry), and explained how the Protestant nature of the city shaped its architecture.

The guide also told us how a descendant of a ducal family still lives in the palace at Uzes. He's apparently a crafty little bugger, as he has found a way to sneak around the tax laws in France. Apparently, anyone livin in a historic palace or castle in France has to pay a tax to live there, unless they allow public access. So, this guy basically roped off 3 or 4 rooms of his castle, sells 12 euro tickets to whoever's stupid enough to pay for them, and basically thumbs his nose at the government.

We then headed up to Pont du Gard, the roman bridge that supported the aqueduct from the spring at Uzes to the baths at Nimes. The bridge is a marvel of engineering, and it's amazing that it's still standing. What's even cooler is that the river it spans is still used as a beach area for people in Provence. How is that fair? When I go to the beach, I have to look at condos and high-rises. They get to look at 2000-year-old aqueducts. Not. Fair. At all.

After that, we crammed in the van (after chewing on some local rosemary bushes) and headed back to town.

The next day, I woke up and just had no desire at ALL to do anything, let alone go to Arles. No idea why, but I just decided to take a lazy day in Avignon. Sean still wanted to go, but came back really quick, thanks to alternating rain and bug storms. I wandered around Avignon for the day, where is was just slightly misting, and pretty much just people-watched. That turned out to be a little interesting, as the kebab shop I was eating in was visited by some Ren-faire folk, which was a little...unexpected. But, after that, I headed home to blog and upload photos.

Food in Avignon

Day 1 in Avignon was short, so we only had dinner there. Our first night we did NOT go to the place our hotel recommended (30+ a plate), and instead went to a little creperie. I was still a little veggie-starved from Spain, so I got the Legumes a la Provencal, which was basically grilled veggies served with oil and garlic, a stuffed tomato, and potatoes au gratin. Also got a ginormous sundae, but I have no idea what was on it (asked the waiter what he liked, and he knew enouh english to answer but not say what it was). 'Twas delicious, though!

The next day, we were in a hurry, so I grabbed a basic sandwich made with ham, provolone cheese, and some French butter. Sounds kind of "meh," but the butter made it taste great. For dinner, we went to a Provencal restaurant, where I got the honey roasted duck (which actually tasted like honey, and not just generally sweet, like most honey roasted things in the States), which came with fried gnocchi and sautéed mushrooms. That was excellent, but dessert (a biscuit topped with slices of grapefruit and thyme) was so-so.

Lunch the next day was another ham sandwich and coffee near the market in Avignon. Went to a little pub that had one poor waitress running the entire place (waiting tables, making food, and taking deliveries). To save some money, for dinner that night, we just grabbed some bread, sausage, jam, and cheese at the grocery, and ate that. French bread and cheese continued to be delicious, particularly with jam made from melons from provence. We also split a bottle of wine from Chateuneuf-du-Papes, a wine-making region that used to serve the pope. We had grabbed that earlier at the papal palace.

The next day, we grabbed a weird burger-type thing with a fried egg on top on the way to catch the bus to St. Remy. Not exactly gourmet, but it was cheap and filling. Dinner that night was bread, super super runny cheese, and tapenade (Wasn't really hungry. It's amazing how filling a slab of meat topped with a fried egg can be).

Lunch on day 5 was actually swankier than dinner. We went to a place called Newground while we waited for our tour to start, where we got the daily special, which was salad, saffron rice, prociutto and melon with a few drops of really sweet wine, baked chicken in mushroom and pear sauce, and mango tart. Dinner was way more low-brow, but just as tasty. We went to a place called Tartine, which served everything on toast. So, we got some with pate, some with goat cheese and honey, and some with gorgonzola and prune compote, which was actually our favorite. I also got a glass of pastis, which is an anise flavored liquer you drink mixed with water and ice. Tasted like a glass of licorice flavored lemonade, but in a good way.

 

Our last day, I just grabbed a kebab and a coke for lunch, but we splurged for dinner and went to a really high brow French place, where the husband cooked and the wife waited tables. I got a salad topped with balsamic vinegar and goat cheese in pastry for the first course, and a tuna steak and sautéed veggies after that. I actually like the veggies better than the tuna (though that was still quite tasty); they were basically a ratatouille without the tomato sauce. Anyway, the next day we headed to Nice, and I didn't eat a bite until dinner, where I may or may not have pigged out a bit. But that's another post.

Folks in Nice and Avignon

Combining these two into one, as Avignon's would be too short on its own, but we met a ton of cool people in Nice.

So, Avignon first. Since we stayed in a hotel, not a hostel, we didn't meet anybody new like we have been through sharing rooms or hanging out in common areas. But, we could only get WiFi in the lobby, and we met an older Japanese couple there when we were uploading photos. The wife was...entertaining. She kept very subtly bragging about how successful she was, and was very careful to note that she was only staying at our budget hotel for a night, because the Hotel Grand Avignon was booked that night. She also said she didn't consider herself a success, but that she owned a few businesses. Sean asked how many, and she said 11 or 12, she couldn't remember -_- Oh, and she flew into Avignon just to see an opera.

Also met a couple on the tour we took of Nimes and Uzes that were funny. Nice folks, but they were just a touch of your typically clueless Americans. When we were in Uzes, they asked if it was supported by tourism, and the guide said no. They were shocked that it could support itself then. 

Wife: "But what does it do! How does it get money?"
Guide: "Umm...normal town things?"

Now: Nice. Our hostel was a small place near Place Massena that was awesome for meeting people. The common area was the manager's office, and every night folks would pile in to talk, swap stories, drink wine, and occasionally head out to a nearby bar (We stayed in. Not my type of place). It was a lot of fun to hear where everyone was going and what brought them to Europe, and we met a bunch of cool folks.

First, Valerio (or Val). His dad owns the hostel, and Val pretty much runs it. Funny guy, knew Nice pretty well, and could play the guitar. I got a kick out of one of the girls attempting to teach him "Sexual Healing." That just became even funnier when I found out the girl was studying vocal performance at Berklee School of Music. Favorite story with Val was when he asked me to check someone in when he got to the hostel, so he could get everyone to the bar. Left me the keys and told me how to buzz him in. So, I think I can officially add "hostelier" to my resume.  Even if the guy didn't show up.

Next, roommates. The first two nights, we roomed with Joanna and Michelle from Alberta in Canada. They were studying in Italy, and decided to pay France and Spain a visit while over here. They also gave Val a bottle of homemade limoncello as a gift, which he then doled out to the rest of us. Again, Val's a cool dude (and probably reading this. Hi Val!). They left after two days to be replaced by a pair of Australians who we didn't get to know well, thanks to one of them getting food poisoning from what sounded like a sketchy kebab. 

Robin was the source of that quote I posted earlier about Scottish rednecks. Nice guy, and smart too. He's going into his last year of Mechanical engineering in Aberdeen, Scotland, and is going to work at BP soon. He came with us to Monaco and put me to shame in terms of shutterbugness. He and Sean also nerded out momentarily at the tourist office in Monte Carlo, where they spent a few minutes trying to read a cool voltmeter. I, of course, didn't tease them at all.

Next up, Adam, from Australia. HYSTERICAL guy, who hopped from hostel to hostel to the floor of a hostel while he was in Nice, based on who was where and where the cheap beer was. Fell asleep on the beach, and woke up with a sunburn in the shape of his necklace (you could actually see the individual links on the chain). He also apparently woke up half the hostel one night (I slept through it) when he was...umm..."fraternizing" with someone else. I'll let you be the judge of what that means.

Next up, some people from the States, finally! (So. Many. Canadians.) Alex and Steven both just finished off med school, and are starting residencies the week they get back. Nice guys, who had a few entertaining stories to share, including a few ways to NOT set an A-line IV, how they remove drugs from drug smugglers' bowels (I'll give you a hint: it involves laxatives and a bucket), and some stories from the ER. And a few medically-backed hangover cures that really got some of the girls' attention. Apparently a Compozene or a Finargin when taken with an IV bag of normal saline clears it right up. And there's apparently a guy in Las Vegas who goes around doling this cure out to tourists. Pay him extra, and he'll actually come to your hotel room. I don't know whether to be disusted or impressed by his entrepreneurism.

Next, Eva and Julia, two girls from Berklee School of Music, studying Vocal performance and music business, respectively. Julia was the girl who tried to teach Val "Sexual Healing," which apparently wants played at her wedding. Eva also played the Piano, even though she's not majoring in it, and has been playing since she was 5.

Isabel showed up on our third night, and came to dinner with Sean, Robin, and me. She's originally from Vancouver (hey, my neck of the woods!) though she's been studying business in Pamplona in Spain for a while. She also spoke way better French than pretty much anyone there, and shared my enthusiasm for photographing dinner.

Finally, there's Stacy and her sister Jennifer (I think. Only talked to her briefly). They only stayed at the hostel for a few hours, as they accidentally booked a bus for 4 am instead of 4 pm. Val called them a taxi and they headed out after a short nap.

Oh! And I'm not sure if you can count them as "people" per se, but we met some guys from UGA there, too. Nice guys, but they apparently got in an argument with some Canadians over whether basketball was better than hockey, and woke up most of the hostel. They did give us instructions on how to play at the Casino Royale, though, so I owe them that!

Anyway, long story short: if you want to meet new people, small hostels >> small hotels.

And so I'm back!

(from outer space)

So, our hotel in Milan (oh, got here in one piece, by the way!) has free computers and cheap wifi, so I can blog again!

No photos, though. The USB ports are inaccesible, so I can't plug in my camera.

But, I have a few quick posts to make at least! I'll get them up asap.

Updates!

First off; typing this from a French keyboard, which has just a few random characters moved, so apologies for any typos.

(Typed normally: First off; typing this fro, q French keyboqrd; zhich hqs just q fez rqndo, chqrqcters ,oved; so qpologies for qny typos:)

Anyway; I ordered a new chord to be delivered to our hotel in Milan; BUT, amazon.it doesnt have expedited shipping, so there is only a 50% it will arrive while Im there. Im going to book my venice hostel tomorrow; and order a second one shipped to there:

Nice and Monaco are awesome and sunny and gorgeous and way more fashionable than I am. Met a ton of awesome nice people here (special shoutouts to Robin, Isabel, Valerio, Steve, Stacy, and Alex), the scenery is gorgeous, and the sun is warm.

Have a ton of stories (including royal car collections, snooty casinos, and a bunch of new friends), but Ill wait until I have a normal keyboard (one where I can actually find the apostraphe key) to post them!

Scottish wisdom

Me: Well, I guess they have rednecks all over the world.

Robyn: Yep. But in Scotland, we don't call 'em "rednecks." We just call 'em "Scottish."

Technical difficulties

Hi all,

So, my posts are going to be a bit shorter and more sparse for a few days. My laptop charger died, so I'll be blogging from my phone for a bit.

Plan is to order a new charger after we book our next hostel and have it delivered there. If that doesn't work, then I'll just be extra careful to book hostels with computers from here on out.

In Nice!

Took the train to Nice today.
Got in around 4, dropped our stuff, and went for a walk along the beach.

Tomorrow, we're going to explore Nice some more, then Wednesday we're going to Monaco. As for Thursday, no plans of yet, though we might use it as a backup in case we need more time for Nice or Monaco.

St. Remy-de-Provence

Day trip numero uno from Avignon was to St. Remy-de-Provence, a sleepy little French town about 10 miles south of Avignon. It has the perfect mix of “things for tourists to do” and “being an actual town,” since all the main attractions in town are actually a 20 minute walk south of town. So, we got to see some cool sights, but didn’t have to walk through hordes of folks trying to sell us cheap stuff.

First, though, we had to get there. Despite only being 10 miles south of town, it’s about a 40 euro cab ride, so we nixed that pretty quick (at that price, we could almost get a guided tour of the city that would pick us up at our hotel). Instead, we found out a bus leaves Avignon for St. Remy every 2 hours, and only costs 3.50 euros. Much better. Only catch to this was that the bus station in Avignon is…less than clean. It’s funny, the people aren’t sketchy at all (plenty of grandmas, school kids, and commuters were on the bus), and the station isn’t in a sketchy part of town, but it’s…kinda awful. The ticket office reeked of urine, and the entrance was right off a big highway, so we were a little put off at first. But then again, it’s kind of hard to feel sketched out when you’re standing next to a 13-year-old boy headed home from school for lunch and a group of chattering teenage girls with bags of shopping.

Once we got there, we tried to head to the tourism office, but they were closed for lunch. Since we only had a few hours, we couldn’t wait for them to reopen, so we just headed straight for the main sights south of town.

First: the St. Paul Monastery and Sanitarium, where Van Gogh was kept for a year after he cut his ear off. He was here for only a year, but in that time, he painted almost 200 paintings, and about that many drawings. It was really cool seeing all this, especially since they would put prints of his paintings next to scenes he had painted. For example, next to the olive tree grove were two prints of paintings he had done of the grove. They also had the room where he slept, which was amazing, as you could look out his window and see the wheat fields he painted. They’ve since converted them to flower fields, but it’s still cool, especially since little bits of wheat still grow as weeds around the flowers.

Another cool thing is that the monastery still acts as a psychiatric hospital, and they specialize in art therapy to help patients recover. The gift shop (in addition to the typical Van Gogh-themed mouse pads, mugs, and calendars) sold the patients artwork, which was pretty amazing.

After that, we wandered the fields for a while, looking at the trees, flowers, and mountains, then headed further south to the ruins of the Roman city of Glanum. Glanum was a totally NOTHING roman town, which is part of its charm. When you go to Rome, you see grand basilicas, arenas, and monuments, but no ordinary buildings; the modern city was just built on top of those. At Glanum, though, you can just see what a blacksmith’s house was like, or how a Roman village’s roads were laid out. There was also a tour group of little schoolchildren, who were all dressed in togas and traditional Roman clothing. It was just ever so slightly adorable.

Afterwards, we started to head back, but took a wrong turn on the way, so we got kind of turned around. The map from the guidebook we had only had the main roads, so we couldn’t figure out where to go at first. In a city like Paris or Barcelona, this could be a bit of a problem, but St. Remy is about half the size of my neighborhood at home (i.e. really frickin’ tiny) so it took us all of five minutes to find the bus stop again. Once we found it, we killed time in a truly American way: snacks! Mint chocolate chip is apparently just as tasty on this side of the Atlantic, too.

Once we got back, we pretty much just bummed around for the rest of the day, then grabbed dinner from the super market.

St. Remy photos are up!

Photos of St. Remy-de-Provence are up!

Set is here.

Avignon

Day 1 in Avignon was pretty straightforward: catch train, check in, grab food, sleep. Had a rather amusing moment where we pulled out cash to pay and the hotelier looked at us like we were nuts and said, “Non, monsier. You pay at checkout.” We thought this was sketchy as all hell (budget travellers always have to be on the lookout for places that try and squeeze extra fees onto checks), til we realized that’s how it works in the real world (i.e. the non-hostel part of the world). We ended up paying the next day, anyway, though. After that, we grabbed dinner at a creperie (and not the 30-euro-a-plate restaurant the front desk sent us to), which was plenty tasty. After that, Facebook, blogpost, and bed.

Day 2 was a planning day. Since we were spending 6 days in Provence, a general schedule was necessary, so we spent about an hour checking train schedules, calling tour companies (…okay, our hotelier did that for us), and asking the front desk about the bus schedule. After that, we got tickets sorted out (which actually took less time than the planning did, walks to and from the station included) and set off to actually see the city we were staying in.

First stop, something horribly, horribly touristy: the tourist train. Most European cities have them: a train on wheels that tourists are shoved into and then driven around the city in. Conductor in full-on engineer attire and decorative front car optional. We’d been snickering at them pretty much everywhere we went, but this train was only 7 euro, so we figured it would be a good way to get oriented to the city. While we weren’t wrong, it wasn’t a mind-boggling experience, either. The train went in front of the palace, up to and through the botanical gardens, down to the River, and past the bridge before coming back to its starting point. Not a waste of 7 euro, but we didn’t really see anything amazing or learn anything new aside from a general orientation.

Anyway, we headed up to the botanical gardens, where we got a great view of the city and saw a few rather adorable families of ducklings in the pond. We grabbed a snack and watched the ducks for a while, then headed down to the Rhone and up to the bridge.

I’d actually never heard of the Bridge of St. Benezet until Anna told me about it right before my trip, but it’s apparently pretty well known, thanks to a nursery rhyme I’d never heard. Basically, it’s a bridge that used to cross all the way over the Rhone, but over years, the current in the river kept knocking down arches, until the town stopped trying to maintain it. Now, just 3 of the original arches remain. Afterwards, we wandered a bit, then came back to the river to see it at night.

Day 3, we got an earlier start than usual (out the door around 10:30, I think) so we could go to the market, which is only open before 1pm. Was pretty cool to see, though we didn’t buy anything (wasn’t there as a sight for tourists, so we didn’t think they’d speak much English). Afterwards, we grabbed coffee and sammiches in Plaza Pie (pronounced pee-yay, though there was a ‘café 3.14’ to make fun of the double pronunciation).

Afterwards, we went to the papal palace. The story behind this is that in the 14^th century, Italy was undergoing a series of civil wars, which made the country a dangerous place to be for foreigners. So, when a French cardinal was named Pope, the king of France persuaded him to move the papacy to Avignon until things settled. The Italians, obviously, were outraged by this, but the papal seat stayed in Avignon until 1377.

The palace was enormous and obviously very grand, but it was hard to picture what it was like when the pope lived there. Avignon and Provencal cities in general have a bare-bones attitude towards preserving historic sites, in that they tend to only maintain the materials that are there, and nothing more. That’s fine, but it meant that the palace is BARE. Most of the frescoes were incredibly faded, there aren’t any tapestries or reproductions on the walls or ceiling, and there wasn’t any furniture. So, while it was cool and obviously amazing, we never really got a sense that it was a palace fit for the pope.

Oh, and Provencal tours are…amusingly literal and factual. They don’t really give you any juicy rumors or stories or tidbits, like most tourist sites; more just straight facts, like, “The ceiling is supported by 6 stone arches,” and “The hall has three windows, which you can see to the left.” I can see and count the arches and windows quite clearly, thank you. The tourist train had been the same way, telling us how long streets were or how tall buildings were, without really saying why they were important or interesting.

After dinner that night, Sean and I split up to wander on our own. Avignon is an incredibly safe city (there are very few foreign tourists around, so pickpockets and the like aren’t a problem), so it was cool to see what the city was like after dark. I wandered down to the river around sunset to grab some shots of the river, then pretty much just wandered the city trying to get lost. I ended up wandering through a residential area, which was fun, as I could hear French families finishing up dinner through open windows. There’s also apparently a lot of cats in these parts, all of whom are crazy skittish. I’d be twenty feet away, and they’d tear off down an alley.

That was our “last” day in Avignon, even though we stayed there for four more nights, as we did day trips every other day. I’ll post those as separate posts later.

Barcelona's done, Avignon photos are up

Read the title, yo!

Directions

Being mistaken for a local in a country where you don't even speak the language twice in one day is rather amusing.

As is giving people directions in a city you've only been in for 5 days.

Piece du l'Rennaisance

So apparently they have Renaissance fairs in France.

Was eating at a kebab shop, and a dude in full-on period medieval garb walk in and says, "Monsieur! Directions, s'il vous plait?" The kebab shop owner just kind of stared for a second, then said, "Uhh, oh, oui, monsieur," and helped him find where he was going.

I took the chance to look outside, and saw a guy dressed in a beggar costume and a woman in an aristocrat's gown.

It would appear the French are just as capable of geekery as Americans.

Souvenirs and mementos

I like souvenirs. Not the "I went to Madrid and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" souvenirs you see in shops, but things that are unique about a place. Much to my overfull suitcase's (and underfull wallet's) chagrin, I've been picking up stuff as I go.

So, my swag so far:

• Copper ginginha drinking cup from Lisbon
• Lapis lazuli prayer bracelet with the cross and scallop shell of St. James from Santiago
• Damascene carving of Toledo from Toledo
• Hyper-parabolic modernisme coffee mugs from Barcelona
• Watercolor of Avignon and the St. Benezet bridge from Avignon
• A wind-up music box that plays the Avignon nursery rhyme from Avignon
• Bottle from the Chateauneuf-du-Papes (the vineyards that served the French Popes) from Avignon
• Stalk of wheat from the wheat fields Van Gogh painted in St. Remy-de-Provence

Barcelona

The train ride from Madrid was largely uneventful and, thankfully, pretty short. The ride from Santiago to Madrid took almost seven hours, but to Barca, it was only about two.

Anyway, from the station, we grabbed a set of 4-day metro passes (which were incredibly expensive at about 25 euro apiece; I’d forgotten how expensive the metro system was. We got our money’s worth, though) and headed to the hostel. It was in a fantastic location (1 block from the Arc d’Triomf metro station, and a ten-minute walk from my old residencia), and the people running it were nice. Also did my laundry for 6 euro. Considering that’s about how much it costs to do it yourself, I was pretty happy with the deal!

After we checked in, we went to warm up for Sagrada Familia with some lesser-known Modernisme. The Arc d’Triomf was a block down the street, so we went there, grabbed some photos, and meandered into the Ciutadella, a big park in the heart of the city famous for two things. One, it was a former fort that the Castillians built to keep an eye on the rebellious Catalonians several centuries back. As soon as it was vacated, the Catalonians tore it down and built the park. Two, it has a fountain designed by Gaudi and one of his students in the middle of it. It’s also a phenomenal park in its own right.

After that, dinner, then bed.

Day 2, went back to the station to reserve our seats to Avignon, which was an experience. After two hours and four attendants who spoke about as much English as we did Spanish, we finally realized that we didn’t need to reserve seats, since we were taking local trains. After that, we did Sagrada Familia (which I’ve already posted about), then headed to La Rambla and slowly made our way down the water front. On the way, we stopped at La Boqueria (the big market here, where I grabbed some guava agua fresca) and shook our heads at a Catalonian bachelor party making its way across town. They were…thoroughly sloshed by the time we saw them, and had air horns, whistles, and megaphones to herald their arrival. Anyway, we wandered down the waterfront for a while, then headed back for dinner.

On the way, we walked through the Carrer de Ribes neighborhood (wanted to see if the Italian restaurant was open), and got to see the joyous sight of what happens when you give small children matches. While we were walking down the street, we realized, “Oh, that trees on fire.” Some kids had apparently wanted to see what happens when you held a lit match to the bark of a palm tree. They were initially highly amused by it, but when it worked its way up the tree, they got a little panicked when they realized they weren’t tall enough to put it out. It was honestly hysterical to watch all the adults scramble over to extinguish it (Though one guy started hitting it with a flip flop. I don’t know what he hoped to accomplish, but someone ran out with a 2 liter of water, which did the job).

The next day, we headed up to one of Gaudi’s other masterpieces, Parc Guell. After trying (and…somewhat succeeding) to get a photo with El Drac, we wandered around, meandered through Gaudi’s house (which, oddly enough, he didn’t design), saw the bench, and hike up a bit to get a good view of the city). On the way back down, we also got to see a rather amusing fruitbasket turnover, as all the Pakistani guys selling knick-knacks heard a police siren, wrapped all their wares in the sheets they were laid on, and VANISHED. They straight-up BOLTED out the front gate of the park in about a minute.

After that, we killed some time before dinner, then headed out for tapas. Unfortunately, a tapas place I remembered (the one I ate at my last night in Barca) was closed for the holiday (Spanish memorial day, basically), but a dim sum place nearby was open. So, we pigged out on Chinese food, then headed to Placa Espana to see the Magic fountain show.

Day four, we headed to the beach to grab a cable car up to Montjuic. The ride was expensive, but worth it for the views of the city we got. We hiked up to the peak, taking a few breaks for ice cream and coffee, then walked down the other side of the mountain, walking past the Olympic plaza, the Palau Nacional, and the Mies van der Rohe pavilion. That night, we just kinda chilled at the hostel while we ate dinner, then went downstairs to the TV room (which had a VERY nice screen) and watched the Spanish classic El Caballero Oscuro (i.e. Batman: The Dark Knight).

Sagrada Familia

So, in the race for “Chris’s favorite basilica,” Sagrada Familia and St. Peter’s have always been neck-and-neck. St. Peter’s interior and decorations pretty much blow any other church on earth out of the water (when your the headquarters of the Catholic Church for several hundred years, you tend to collect some swag), but I’ve always loved the exterior of Sagrada Familia so much more.

In a nutshell, Sagrada Familia has the typical cross-shaped layout of a basilica, with the Apse occupying the top section of the cross. The other three arms are tipped with three facades, representing three aspects of Christianity: the Nativity, the Passion, and the Glory (i.e. believers, faith, and the Holy Trinity). The Passion and Nativity Facades are mostly done, but the Glory Façade is just getting started. Currently, it just consists of the door pictured below, with the Lord’s Prayer in Catalan in the center, and the phrase “Give us this day our daily bread” in most of the world’s languages.

The Nativity Façade tells scenes fromthe story of Christ’s birth, including the actual Nativity, the flight of the Holy Family to Egypt, and Jesus teaching as a child in the temple. Modernisme (the architectural movement Gaudi was a member of) focuses a lot on nature, plants, and animals, and it really shows here. This façade is coated in little nubbly bits representing animals, fruit, and flowers surrounding the Biblical scenes. The main entrance through this façade is supported by pillars that end in two large turtles, whose long-lives represent the eternal nature of God’s power. Oh, and true to Barcelona’s orientation “La montans, y la mar” (the mountains and the sea), the turtles represent the city’s surroundings. The turtle on the sea-side of the entrance is a sea turtle, and the turtle on the mountain-side is a mountain tortoise. This imagery also extends to the exterior of the apse, which is covered in small animals “fleeing in awe of the Holy Spirit inside.”

The Passion Façade is, obviously, much more stark and somber, and features the other main aspect of Modernisme: geometry. The entire façade is harsh angles and odd curves, and gives everything a kind of shocked and inhuman feeling. The scenes here reflect the scenes of the Passion (you can see most of them HERE), and the shapes of characters and imagery are all meant to be simplistic and sad. My personal favorite part was the statue of the Ascension, which I forgot to snap a photo of. It’s a brass statue that weighs over 4 TONS, and is sitting on a stone slab waaaaaay up in the air. I also liked the magic square near the scene of Judas’ betrayal (where there are over 300 ways to combine the numbers and get 33, Jesus’ age at death), and the ripping of the sheet in the Temple, where you can see the light and colors of God shining through.

When I was there last, they were just finishing up the roof, and had maybe four stained glass windows in place. Now, the interior structure is mostly complete, and the decorations are nearly there too. But, now that Sagrada Familia’s interior is nearing completion, I have to say, it’s pulled ahead in a massive way. The church is absolutely STUNNING inside. I was blown away, and Sean’s reaction was, “It totally blew away my expectations, which were pretty high to begin with after hearing you talk about it.”

The columns are all made using a complex geometric formula that has them start as six-sided ones at the base, then slowly “grow” more and more sides as they reach the top. Once they reach the top, they split into more columns to simulate tree trunks supporting the ceiling, which is designed to look like the canopy of a forest. This is supposed to simultaneously create a sense of wonder at the scale of the church, while also making it feel enclosed, private, and personal (goals which, oddly enough, it achieves). When the sun sets, lights in the spaces between the “leaves” turn on, simulating seeing stars peeking through.

Light and color in the church are AMAZING as well. The altar and apse are surrounded by gold, stained glass, and windows, so it’s so full of color, you don’t really know how to process it all. The windows to the east (the Nativity façade) are blue and green, and the windows to the west (the Passion façade) are oranges and reds, so the sunrise simulates spring, water, and life, and the sunset simulates autumn.

The area behind the altar (where little chapels normally go) was also done differently. Rather than having chapels and shrines to various saints (which invariably get gated off to keep tourists out), it’s just a quiet place where people can go, sit, pray, and think (the original purpose of the chapels).

So yes, overall, Sagrada Familia is a very different church from most of the cathedrals and basilicas you’ll find in Europe. It might not have the gold and marble of St. Peter’s, but it more than makes up for that in character, creativity, and the thought that went into all the details. Even things that you wouldn’t think of (like the decorations around windows you can only see from the towers, the use of spring fruits on the Nativity towers and autumn fruits on the Passion towers) have a reason behind them.

All in all, it’s an absolutely fantastic church, and worth the visit to Barcelona all on its own. I see at least one more trip to Barca in my future, somewhere on the order of 2026-2028, when it’s supposed to be completed.

War of the French Artists

So apparently artists in Provence and Paris dislike each other. Walked past a woman selling some very nice, surprisingly cheap watercolors today and asked if they were originals or prints.

She got a little huffy and said, "Monsieur, these are ALL originals. We are NOT like those "artists" in Montmartre."

(Imagine it in a thick French accent to get the full effect)

Provence Schedule

So, schedule of Provence:

Yesterday (5/29): Train to Avignon

Today (5/30): Planned and booked tours, trains, and buses, went on a cheesy tour, saw the Bridge, walked along the river, got dinner

Tomorrow (5/31): More of Avignon; papal palace and wandering

Friday (6/1): Buses to and from St. Remy in Provence

Saturday (6/2): Taking a guided tour of Nimes, Uzes, and Pont du Gard all day

Sunday (6/3): Train to and from Arles 

Monday (6/4): Leaving Avignon for Nice/Monaco

Trip to Avignon

So, the trip to Avignon was…interesting.

Not bad interesting. Actually quite dull. But a little different.

Basically, there’s no direct line to Avignon from Barcelona. This is mostly due to the fact that Spanish rail lines use a different gauge (distance between rails) on their track than just about everybody else. So, anyone going into or out of Spain by rail has to change to a different line near the border. Most people going from Barcelona to Avignon change at either Montpellier (on the French side) or Figueres (on the Spanish side). These are the ‘official’ Eurail routes.

Not so with Sean and I. When we went to the train station in Barcelona, we realized two things. 1) Eurail’s official routes are not at all comprehensive and 2) People in Barcelona reaaaallly don’t like speaking English. We talked with 4 different train officials, two of whom knew a bit of English, but didn’t speak it to us, one of whom actually spoke to us in English, and one who didn’t speak English, but was a master of Spanglish. 

Anyway, long story short, after about 2 hours at the train station, we figured out what we were doing.

Interestingly enough, though, the officials had pointed us to an unofficial route. Instead of one of the other two towns, this route took us through Cerbere, France. We were happy, ‘cause it took only local train routes, which meant that we didn’t have to pay a reservation fee (which eurailers have to do when riding long distance or high speed trains).

The wait at the station the day of was fun. We got there plenty early, and were drinking coffee in the waiting area when an Asian woman runs up to us, drops two suitcases and a backpack, asks us to watch it, then scurries off with two other bags.

Enter Ellen, another of those characters you only meet once in a long while.

Ellen came back a few minutes later, and we realized the two other bags were (occupied) cat carriers. She plopped down, thanked us, and struck up a conversation. Turns out, she had just finished a year-long stint at Google, and was moving back to France. She was…vague, at best, with what she did. She did tell us that, before her initial move to France, she worked on “UI design in Silicon Valley for 1

When we got to Cerbere, though, it was a ghost town. Our train was there, but there were maybe a dozen people at the train station, of which maybe a half-dozen were actually on our train. The rest were ticket salespeople, janitors, and border agents (Who were a little befuddled by my passport. The border agent in Lisbon was running low on ink, so the visa stamp is kinda faint. The poor agent here looked at my passport which seemed to say I magically materialized on a train in his country. He was fine when I pointed the stamp out to him, though).

Anyway, aside from that, the trip was fairly vanilla. I read a book on Provence, Sean read a book on his iPad, and we arrived. Got a nice view of the countryside, too, but it was mostly on or near the border, not before. The Spanish like to build their trains a bit below ground level, so aside from a bit of Figeueres, we didn’t see much. Once we got to Portbou, though, it was gorgeous. We drove through a few marshes, across a river, and spent a hefty amount of time on the coast, which was nice.

Anyway, we arrived in one piece, got checked in, and got dinner. Check another country off my list!