Sunday, November 27 - Last day in Florence

Well here we are - the day we knew would come, without knowing exactly how we'd feel about it. I would say that we both are experiencing mixed feelings; on the one hand, we have lives that have been placed on "pause" in order to come, and we are anxious to get back to them. On the other hand, we've made a lot of friends, and breaking ties to the city we've called home for the last three months is far more difficult than I would have imagined. Some students talked about ways in which the experience has changed them for the better, and expressed fears about whether they would be able to maintain these new feelings/perceptions/habits. I can relate. For me, it's been an eye-opener in a different sense; I get to a new place where people speak another language, and it's easy to focus on small but annoying differences in customs and creature comforts. Then, after I've been around long enough, I begin to realize - even though I've known this all along - that the people around me are motivated by many of the same concerns and hopes that I am, and the differences between us are really just superficial. I realize that's not exactly a major newsflash, and I suppose that's the purpose of these kinds of programs to begin with, but it seems that once you go through it, it doesn't seem as trite as it sounds.

Meanwhile, though, I'm typing away, trying to capture a few events and thoughts in writing before I crash. First event was one that I missed in my last blog... last Tuesday, I actually got a chance to play! There's a jazz club here in Florence, and on Tuesday nights they hold an open jam session with the house band. Now, "open" in the world of jazz jams is somewhat ambiguous - although it might suggest that anyone is invited to join in, the welcome mat is generally extended mostly to folks who a) have some clue as to what they're doing, and, b) aren't so hopelessly out of their league in the venue that others get frustrated and want to throw things at them. I'd been to this club a few times before, and most nights I was perfectly happy to sit and watch, as many of the players were really, really good - one trumpet player, for example, was a New York guy who was smoking hot, and no way in hell would I have set foot on that stage that night. Last week things had slowed down to the point where I might have given it a try, but I didn't have a horn with me and we left early anyway. This week, I came prepared, and since I'd gotten to know (okay, well, at least we might recognize each other if we met on the street) the other musicians, I decided to give it a try. Only had time for one tune - St. Thomas - but it was fun, and I'm anxious to get home and get back to the horns.

By the way, we just lost power here. The weather has been strange all of a sudden; last week we had this major cold snap (below freezing several days), and for the last couple of days it's been raining. Tonight, we've got lightning, thunder, and wet snow. I don't know if this is normal in cold climates, but it's the weirdest thing I've seen in a long while. Thank heavens for laptops!

Today - our last full day in Florence - also turned out to be the day of the Florentine Marathon, and since we were awakened at about 7:00 by race organizers who were starting people at the Piazalle Michelangelo, we decided to get out and have a look. The route seemed to wind itself all over town, and ended up at the Santa Croce church, about a half mile away, where we walked out to see what was happening. At the time they were running a kids' junior marathon, so I hung around taking pictures while the kids finished. Man, there's nothing like events like that to provide photo-ops. It seemed that everywhere I pointed the camera, there was some image that compelled me to press the shutter. You don't even have to be good to get these, I don't think - you just have to keep your eyes open.

After the kids' race we walked over to the Duomo, and caught a few glimpses of the wheelchair competitors and the leaders of the main event. They ran by and we were appropriately impressed, but what really stuck with me was this one guy who hobbled by on crutches. I don't know what time he must have started, but this was 26 kilometers into the race (a little over sixteen miles), and he was plugging along. People cheered - it was impossible not to - but then we had to run over to the train station for an extra suitcase, so we left the route, thinking we'd hurry up and catch some lunch before it got too late.

After picking up the suitcase and dropping it off at home, we decided to walk back by the finish line at Santa Croce and have another look. By this time the leaders had long since finished and rain was threatening, and when we finally got there it was actually hailing on the runners who were crossing the line at the four-hour mark. This compelled me to find a spot along the barrier and cheer for the people coming in, and so we spent a few minutes taking pictures of these guys who were going for it in such miserable weather. Just when we were ready to take off for lunch, though, we heard a round of cheers from the rest of the crowd, and so we stopped to see what was happening. Turns out that the guy on crutches - the one we saw at the 26 km mark - was rounding the corner and finishing the race. All I could think was, man... that's hardcore. We all have our crosses to bear, but if that guy can do 42 km on crutches, then he has my profound respect.

Pretty soon, though, it was time to grab lunch, go back to the apartment and finish some last-minute packing and clean up, get dinner with Judith and Amy, and get ready to leave. One minute we're here, and now we're almost gone. Seems now like there's so much more I would have liked to do, but I suppose that's all the more reason to come back. It was a drag to say goodbye to the people we've befriended, but we'll have to make sure we see them all again.

Next stop, Los Angeles. Hope the weather isn't too bad to fly out tomorrow...

Arrivederci!
-Leanne

Friday, November 25th - Florence

Well, with the exception of our one day in Venice, we've been hanging around Florence since the Rome trip, which - I think - is the longest unbroken streak since we left for Scotland last September. Wow. It's been nice to have a break from non-stop travel, but it's sort of weird to be spending so much time in one place. Like, hmm... what do we do now?

What I do, of course, is catch up on work, not the least of which includes working on getting a job. Doing that involves getting my resume whipped into shape, of course, and also writing cover letters for whatever academic institutions I apply to. Unlike other times I've been job hunting in the past, though, this time it's nice to have a clear sense of what I want to do. Now, it's just a matter of where I do it.

Other projects include getting survey groups set up for another project I'm working on, and also looking over my study guide for the math portion of the GMAT. I know, I know... since I've already got the MBA, what on earth do I want to torture myself with all that again? It's because I'm such a masochist that I'm going to see if I can endure just one last gauntlet, ending this time with a change in title from Ms. To Doctor. Or, en Italiano, it would be Dotoressa. Either way, it requires a better math score on that God-forsaken test than I was able to get by walking in cold like I did the last time, so I have to study. That's okay, though... if I get into my first choice, UCLA, I'll need to go back and take a refresher or two in calculus, so I might as well get a jump on it all now.

Being in Florence for a while has also given us a chance to get to a few tourist-type places we haven't really gotten around to yet. One such place was an art exhibit at the Palazzo Pitti. It was billed as "Mythologica Erotica," which is provocative enough all by itself to have us clamoring at the door to get in. But what I actually thought was even more compelling than the exhibit itself was the part of the Palace it was being displayed in. The Pitti Palace was the home of the Medici family, and it was lavishly - as in, jaw-dropping, oh-my-look-at-that-ceiling - decorated. It's also been recently restored, so the paintings on the walls and ceiling in these particular rooms were magnificent - just swimming in color and detail. Unfortunately the exhibit was closing and we didn't have as much time in there as I would have liked, but I was still very glad we checked it out.

We also made it to the Boboli Gardens, which are just off the Palazzo Pitti. The gardens are much along the same lines as, say, Descanzo Gardens, except that these particular gardens are filled with Renaissance sculptures modeled after pieces from Greek antiquity. The day happened to be sunny and brisk, and that made for a gorgeous hike through the grounds, finally ending when it got a little too chilly to stay out there any longer. Interestingly enough, one thing that really struck me about the site was the half-dozen or so cats I saw hanging around the exit gates. I immediately launched into the same frame of mind I had in Greece - like, oh no, another bunch of homeless cats - but after realizing most of them bordered on obese and then seeing them trot after a woman carrying a grocery bag, I realized that the folks at the museum must be maintaining these guys. How cool is that?

Another must-see site in Florence is the Uffizi Gallery, and that was our stop for today. This is the home of a lot of the world's most important art, with paintings by Botticelli, Ruben, Michelangelo, Raphael, hundreds of sculptures that include a number of hugely famous pieces, and a gorgeous collection of Catholic sacred paintings. The class had already visited this museum, but I happened to be on day-two of the cold I picked up on the trip home from Amsterdam, so I just couldn't drag myself out to go. I didn't mind going another time, but wouldn't you know it: the day we set aside to visit this gallery is the day a general national strike takes place in protest of proposed government cuts in cultural funding. We managed to get in for an hour and a half, but sadly, the rooms where most of the blockbuster pieces were had been closed. Argh!

(Of course I recognize that this leaves me with an imperative to visit Florence again, but I'm going to throw the appropriate tantrum now, and I trust that all my readers will note my apparent chagrin.)

Backing up a bit here... on Thursday, all the classes combined to give their final presentations, and I have to say they did a great job. The mandate was to draw from all of the classes each student was enrolled in - humanities, music, film, or the literature classes - and relate that in some creative way to their experiences on the trip. The presentations ranged from a couple readings of students' original stories, to short plays based on the life of American students in Italy (with pratfalls we could all relate to), to at least one short film that a group put together. It's neat to see that, in spite of what we might have thought they were doing these twelve weeks, the students have really learned a lot from their classes and the opportunity to travel. The high spirits carried over into Thursday night's farewell dinner, and we all had a lot of fun. The restaurant, knowing we were all American and it was Thanksgiving Day, served up a spread of turkey, gravy, potatoes, and a few Italian favorites, which was good even though it wasn't home. Perhaps a bit surprised at how nostalgic we were suddenly feeling, we all toasted the friendships made and the mind-expanding that had taken place over the last three months. It was a nice end to the formal portion of the experience for all of us.

So now, we just have to do a bit more shopping, pack up, and get ourselves back on the plane home. Only three more days... wow.

Good night,
-Leanne

November 13 - The Holy See

Back to the Vatican this morning, this time because I had been told that the Pope gives a public blessing to the pilgrims in St. Peter's Square, and I wanted to see what the vibe was like there. I had also heard that there was going to be a canonization of a new saint this morning, and although one student who was Catholic doubted it, given that it hadn't been publicized much, we figured we'd go anyway and if the place was too crowded to tolerate, we could turn back.

We took the subway out to the Vatican station, and it didn't seem too busy so we guessed we had been wrong about the canonization. No matter - it would be interesting to watch the goings-on at St. Peter's, so we braved the gauntlet of trinket vendors as we walked up to the Vatican gates. Upon arriving inside, we joined the hordes of visitors, and I noticed a procession of cardinals entering the basilica from the west (I think) side. There were two giant video screens - much like you'd see at a ballgame - and they showed an enormous ceremony beginning inside. Three banners with photographs - two women and a man - hung outside, suggesting to me that we were right, except that there would be not one canonization, but three. As it turned out, that was the very event we were witnessing - these were people recommended for consecration by John Paul, but he died before he could bring it about. So, in about fifteen minutes, all three had been proclaimed saints by his successor. Guess I found myself in Rome on just the right day.

With all this going on, we thought perhaps the Pope wouldn't be giving the usual Sunday blessing, but the crowd amassed in the square wasn't budging, so I kept the camera handy and continued to watch. Soon, a window opened several floors over the plaza, and after about five minutes of preparation the Pope appeared, first explaining the significance of the event in Italian, and then greeting people of various nations in Spanish, English, Polish, French, and German, before going back to Italian to complete his address. While I can't claim to be religious myself, it was clear that people in the square were moved by the experience, so I was glad we'd made the extra trip.

After the Pope concluded his greeting, the pilgrims gradually dispersed. While this was going on, however, an impromptu celebration broke out right behind us. This involved a handful of musicians strumming guitars and singing, and others forming a circle around them and dancing. It must have been a well-known Italian folk song, because complete strangers would join the circle, sing a couple of verses, and then continue on their way. Pretty cool.

Making our way out of the city now, we walked north toward the river and then on another mile or two to the Spanish Steps. There, we were hungry and running short on time, so we grabbed a burger at McDonald's (our first of the trip, thankyouverymuch), and headed back to the hotel to meet our bus. The trip home was uneventful, and by 8pm or so we had arrived back at Santa Maria Novella station in Florence. That gave us just enough time to walk back to the apartment before collapsing. No late night dinners tonight!

Ciao,
Leanne

Saturday, November 12 - The Holy See

The next stop on the travel itinerary was the Vatican, and due to the sheer vastness of the place and the quantity of its treasures, we had a show-up-late-and-die call time of 7:30 Saturday morning. Those of you who have had the misfortune of dealing with me any time before 9:00am know that I'm just not at my best at that hour, particularly when I'm still getting over the effects of a cold. Well, never one to disappoint, I hauled myself out of the hotel in a grumpy mood, completely unfit for the holy site we were about to visit. It was early, I was tired even beyond my usual level at that hour, and I had managed to knock my camera battery charger off the Kleenex dispenser in the bathroom (the only available outlet in the room) into the toilet. Sometimes, I'd have to confess that I'm probably not good for international relations.

But we pressed on into the daylight. As the world's second-smallest independent nation, the Holy See nevertheless receives staggering numbers of tourists-some 10 million last year-and nowhere is this more evident than in the morning queue for the Vatican museums. On this morning, the line snaked out the museum doors, the remaining length of the north walls, and about three-quarters the distance to the east wall's opening at the mouth of St. Peter's Square. Apparently this line is particularly long in the mornings because the museums aren't yet open, so we optimistically took our place in the queue and waited for our local guide. After she arrived and gave a brief introduction to the site the museum opened, and-to my surprise-the line began to move. Before long we were at a security checkpoint, and with a wave of the officer's hand, we were in. Surprise!

Unfortunately, my feelings of rapture were to be somewhat short-lived. The Vatican museums are impossibly vast, and today they were brimming with all the tourists I had observed earlier while waiting in line. These both make the site somewhat difficult to take in, and although I walked that day among some of the world's finest masterpieces of devotional art, I came away with precious little that I could say about them. Our tour began at the Cortile della Pigna (Pinecone courtyard), proceeded through the tapestry collection, the Gallery of Maps and the Raphael rooms, and concluded at the Sistine Chapel. This testament to Michelangelo's genius is truly awe-inspiring, but was packed so tightly with visitors that it's nearly impossible to fully appreciate on a normal visit. Still, we doggedly made our way through, but after getting completely separated I spent the last 45 minutes of the tour trying to locate the rest of our group among the throng of tourists and pilgrims. Although I eventually found our party, they were leaving the museum and I would be unable to go back on this visit. Dang.

Needless to say this didn't do my already-glum disposition any help, and I moped along, now feeling especially sorry for myself. I briefly protested as we got in another frightfully long queue to enter St. Peter's Basilica, but more optimistic heads prevailed and we went anyway. By this time my moping had just given way to full-scale pouting, and I resigned myself to another dreary visit to another boring site I wouldn't even be able to see for the crowds. So I stood thus, waiting... for death or some similar fate to overcome me.

Upon entering the sanctuary, I immediately realized that death might well be the only human spiritual experience comparable to that which inspired St. Peter's Basilica. The interior, which houses hundreds of enormous and incredibly gorgeous works of art, is built to such an impossible scale that-as author Bill Bryson attests to in his book Neither Here Nor There-you have to be standing right next to a column or some other part of the physical structure to get any idea of just how huge it is. I walked around the Baldacchino and the papal altar to the south, dragging my jaw along the floor as I went, until I arrived at the back of the shrine directly under the dome. There, a Saturday afternoon service was in progress, and after listening to the choir and the magnificent organ, I collected myself and made my way dumbly back to the exit, taking pictures as I went. Thousands of other visitors were probably in the Basilica at the same time, and I never once noticed. The overall effect was just far too overwhelming.

After leaving St. Peter's, we stopped for a few moments in the Vatican bookstore to look around a buy a couple of stamps. Later that afternoon we toured the interior of the Colosseum, stopped to hunt down a geocache, and got a bite to eat, but those activities went by in a blur. Soon, it was time to head back to the hotel and digest what I'd seen. I tried for a while to read through a visitor's guide we picked up at the bookstore, but I just got overwhelmed all over again and had to go to sleep. I'll sort through it at a later date, I guess.

Good night,
Leanne

Friday, November 11 – Rome

So this is actually my fourth time in Rome, with the first two visits being very ho-hum trips through the city by train on our way to the airport, and the third being the disaster last week. Given these previous experiences, I was perhaps understandably reluctant to get on a bus and go back, but one of the realities of exploring Europe the way I have is that I don't always get a vote on how we get around... I just have to be glad I get to go at all. And this time around, Rome was to be our destination, not just a stopping point on a trip someplace else, so it seemed there was only so much that could go wrong.

Nevertheless, I was pleasantly surprised in this case by how smooth the trip actually went. It seemed that in no time at all we had arrived in the city, checked into a hotel, grabbed a quick lunch, and were on our way to meet our guide for the afternoon walking tour at the Colosseum. This legacy to ancient Rome manages to stand despite being bathed in automobile exhaust 24/7 and also having been looted time and again for material to build other structures. Commissioned by Emperor Vespasian and built in 72, the Colosseum was inaugurated in 80 with a series of gladiatorial battles between men and thousands of wild beasts. One of the most popular legends about the site - that Christians were fed to lions - seems to have been discredited by today's historians. However, the Colosseum's popularity as a tourist attraction experienced an unprecedented surge as a result of the recent Russell Crowe film, The Gladiator, which seems to indicate that historical accuracy isn't nearly as effective in drawing visitors as a good, thrilling story. Glad I don't have to tell that to the anthropologists.

After spending some time looking at the Colosseum's exterior, we moved on to immediately adjacent Roman Forum. Walking from one site to the other, you pass through the Arch of Septimius Severus, erected in 203 to commerate the 10th anniversary of the Emperor's accession. Then, proceeding past the Temple of Saturn and the Rostra, we arrived at the impressive Basilica Julia, erected by Julius Cesar in 54 B.C. This temple, which has been restored and used as a church, was the seat of the civil magistrates court.

Moving on from the temple, we walked through a small meadow, finding ourselves at the House of the Vestal Virgins. The priestesses who lived here were selected for this duty at between six and ten years old, and were expected - on pain of death - to preserve their virginity until their 30-year term was served. They were also whipped if the sacred flame died out, as this was their primary duty. For this they enjoyed status, financial security, and the power to pardon condemned criminals. Was it worth it? I supposed that's anybody's guess. Opposite the House of the Vestal Virgins was the Basilica of Constantine, upon which construction began in 308 by Maxentius and was completed by Constantine in 312. Finally, as we followed the path out of the site, we ascended Palatine Hill to get an overview of the entire forum, before continuing on the rest of our walk.

At this point we left the forum and proceeded north to the Piazza del Campidoglio. This Piazza's geometric paving and building facades were designed by Michelangelo and added as a "facelift" to the existing buildings in 1536. From that piazza, one descends a long staircase to arrive at the side of the Victor Emmanuel Monument, inaugurated in 1911 in honor of the first king of the unified Italy. This building is particularly immense, and it's guarded by the fiercest traffic imaginable. Since there are few traffic signals in this part of town, crosswalks are negotiated by getting together in a very tight herd and crossing as one single unit. Lone pedestrians rarely survive a crossing unscathed.

Although we still had three major sites to visit, it was beginning to get dark by this time and I was unable to get much else in the way of pictures. Still, we got to visit the Pantheon (completed in 125), the Fontana de Trevi (famous as a result of the film, Three Coins in the Fountain), and then our tour ended at dusk at the Piazza de Spagna and Trinita dei Monti, better known to English-speaking tourists as simply the "Spanish Steps." Here, among the rest of the sightseeing horde, we decided to call it a day and give our feet a rest, heading back to the hotel via a very crowded subway.

That put us in bed by 10:00. A rare occurance, but we had a 7:30 date with the Vatican, so it made sense to turn in early. Can't keep the Pope waiting, you know.

Buona sera,

Leanne

Sunday November 6 - The good, the bad, and the ugly

Today was a travel day, headed back to Italy. As usual, that meant an early morning, but this time we were able to arrange a flight back to Florence - rare, but cool, since it meant we wouldn't have to endure some hellacious transfer from Pisa like we typically do.

So we walk to Amsterdam Central Station, catch a train to Schiphol, and board our flight on time. So far, so good, and it was an uneventful trip to Rome, where we were to change planes. I didn't quite get why they made us go through security all over again in Rome (did they think perhaps the Dutch authorities smoked dope while they screened passengers or something?), but I was too preoccupied to care much as I had spotted something on the tarmac that I'd been hoping to see the entire trip: a Russian jet, this one being a Tupolev TU-154. We just don't see these in the U.S. anymore (not that they were ever common on our shores), and I was bound and determined to get a photo of this one, regardless of how much I hate shooting through terminal windows. Fortunately, we exited the security checkpoint at exactly the right place to get a reasonably clear shot of the Tupolev, and although it's certainly not stock photo quality, it will always occupy a special place in my collection.

All good things must come to an end, I suppose, and of course this applies to good days, too. However, it's always preferable if good days end as the clock strikes twelve, rather than turning miserably, horrendously BAD, and I had no way of knowing how wrong our day was about to go until we got to our departing gate in Rome and were informed that our connecting flight was cancelled. This pronouncement is enough to strike terror in the heart of even the most intrepid traveler, but it's worse when you're in Italy and are flying We-Don't-Care-What-Happens-to-You-as-Long-as-You-Go-Away Airlines. When I asked what they were going to do with us, they let us know that they would take us to Florence by bus. That's right... a BUS. Florence to Rome is, under perfect conditions and no stops, a 3-1/2 hour bus ride, and perfect conditions rarely happen on Sunday nights. Normal people make this trip by train unless they're flying someplace entirely different and are connecting through Rome. And we certainly didn't intend to be in Rome in the first place - our outgoing flight had connected through Milan, and for some inexplicable reason this trip took us south. But a BUS? Wasn't there something else we could do?

As it turns out, were thoroughly and royally stuck. When we asked about the possibility of getting back by train, Alitalia refused to give us a reimbursement that would come close to covering the cost, and we had no way of knowing whether seats would be available on the Eurostar to Florence anyway until we had foregone the bus ride back and gotten ourselves to Rome Central Station. Frustrated by this time but having no other viable options, we trooped miserably downstairs, collected our bags, and then trooped back upstairs to the ticket counter where our boarding passes would be traded for bus vouchers. By this time an angry mob had assembled in front of the counter, and the mob didn't get any happier as an hour went by after we had been told the bus would depart and still... nothing. At about two-thirty we were finally herded outside and put on our coach home, but the nightmare wasn't over yet. As the bus drove on north, clouds that had looked pretty threatening for the last hour gave way to rain, slowing things down until road construction could deliver the final coup de grace, bringing traffic to a virtual standstill for over an hour and a half. Nothing anyone could do and no amount of muttered-under-the-breath oaths could change the fact that about 50 people who purchased and paid for plane tickets so they could get home from their weekend trips at a decent hour were stuck on a bus that wasn't going ANYWHERE.

And for me, insult would soon be added to injury. While the mob in the bus got on each others' nerves and plotted bloody revenge against anyone associated with the airline that had put us in this situation, some combination of being over-tired and trapped in confined places with coughing, sniffling people finally took its toll on my own constitution. Occasionally, a head cold can take over my system with remarkable speed, and after leaving Rome in what I considered to be a normal, healthy state, I was actually surprised by how crappy I felt when we finally hit the pavement in Florence, over five hours later. Unbelievable.

The rest of the ordeal has faded to a bad, blurry memory now, and I think I prefer to leave it that way. Eventually, I'll get healthy again. But one souvenir will remain...



God I love Russian jets!

Cheers,
Leanne

Saturday, November 5 - Amsterdam

A quick note to readers: if airplane-geek stuff bores you, you might want to skip today's blog and move right on to tomorrow's. You've been warned.

Today was my chance to do one thing that I secretly hoped for since this whole journey became reality: visit Schiphol airport with a camera. Amsterdam's KLM hub is a Mecca for aviation enthusiasts: interesting traffic, and VERY spotter-friendly. Fortunately for me, the European contingent of my airliners.net friends is easily manipulated into a meet, and this event just worked itself together a couple of months ago.

So off I went on a train to the airport. I arrived at about 8:45, located a few of the group who had already assembled in the arrivals lounge, and once we'd met everyone (most of them came from the U.K.), we trooped off to the panorama terrace, probably one of the best of its kind anywhere in the world. We hung out there for a while, watching the action on the ramp, while our Dutch host, Erwin, took groups of four at a time to the spotting location known as "Polderbaan," which was where the rest of the day's events would take place. A popular hangout for local airplane nuts, the Polderbaan is a grassy strip next to a rural road that is separated from one of the runways and the Martinair cargo facility by only a narrow canal. In practical terms, that means a perfect shot of departing aircraft with no fences to get in the way. Plus, when the cargo planes depart, they taxi right past the far end of this strip - coming within 20 yards - and wait there if there is traffic on the runway they have to cross. Needless to say we had a good time, and in the six or so hours I was there I shot about a gigabyte of photos. Wow.

All too soon, however, we were shivering and it was time for the U.K. crew to catch their flights back home. I made my way back to the airport train station and was soon back at Amsterdam Central. Since we enjoyed our first nights' dinner so much and knew it would be a while before we had the chance to have it again, we decided to return to the Indonesian restaurant where we'd had that amazing rijstaffel. It didn't disappoint.

Back then to the hotel to prepare for an early morning flight back to Italy. I can't wait to return someday...

-Leanne

Friday, November 4 - Amsterdam

Another morning in this terrific place! Woke up and skipped the hotel breakfast this morning. One thing we've come to learn is that the included-in-the-room-price breakfasts that you get throughout the continent get to be monotonous. Generally, they'll have a buffet of some sort (though not always), which will include some dry cereal, bread, sliced ham and cheese, perhaps hard or soft boiled eggs, juice and tea. That's not bad if you're on a tight budget and I don't mind eating the same thing every day at home, but it's kind of a drag when you fill up on that stuff and then, the moment you step out of the hotel, you find really good food EVERYWHERE. So, this morning it's a waffle at a place up the street. I got mine with the white chocolate frosting, and although it tasted really good, it's was also overwhelmingly sweet and I don't think I could make a habit of eating these. I'd be diabetic in about two weeks.

While we were wandering about, we also stopped back at the photo store for a sensor cleaning kit. Digital SLR cameras share one drawback with their film counterparts in that dust can get into them when you switch lenses. Unlike the film camera, however, the digital SLR has a CMOS sensor (a chip of sorts) that is used to record the image, and dust spots on that are both unavoidable and a major drag to fix once you've taken your photograph. The solution is to clean the sensor, which is a somewhat tricky job but one I'm getting tired of paying $50 for other people to do. So... now I have the implements, and it's just a matter of getting on the web long enough to print out a guide on how to get it done. Cool.

Next stop was the University of Amsterdam, where I needed to obtain some contact points for my project. The university is spread out among several buildings in the city, several of which - interestingly enough - are located in the heart of the red light district. It strikes me as a bit of a distracting place to study, not because it's all that dangerous, but because of the scores of tourists who descend on the place every night. Soon, however, I was able to get the information I needed, and we were able to move on pretty quickly.

Next on the agenda was to get to the museum of modern art, the Stedelijk. We're both fans of contemporary art, making this one a must-see. Speaking for myself, it's interesting because it serves as inspiration to be creative in whatever ways I do. One highlight here was an exhibit of short films by a Chinese filmmaker, Yang Fudong. They're very thought-provoking, but hard to describe; one that comes to mind used a total of 10 screens in a room, configured in such a way to make viewing all of them from one location impossible. On the eight outer screens, one or two musicians stood on rocks at the edge of the sea, playing long tones. On the two inner screens (which were on opposite sides of the same wall), one couple was riding a horse on the beach and a second had been shipwrecked. I'm so far unable to understand the message the artist wished to convey with this piece, but I normally have to ruminate on things like this for some time before I'm able to "get" them.

Once we'd overwhelmed ourselves at the Stedelijk, we decided to explore the wharf on foot for a while. Amsterdam is a city of canals, much in the same way Venice is, and most are navigable by boat. Canal tours are very popular, and houseboats, owned (I would assume) by local residents, line the waterways as well. Some boats at the wharf were designed more for channel tours, and one captain we spoke with said that his 9-passenger boat specialized in multi-day charters during the summer. Sounds like a neat way to see the coastline.

At this point the sun was setting, so we walked back to the hotel. After dropping off camera bags it was off to dinner, and this time we tried an Argentinean steakhouse. While I didn't like it as well as one we have at home, it was still a pleasant meal. Eventually, it was time to turn in, so one more walk back up Rokin Avenue, and soon were snoozing away. I'm always amazed at how tired one can get while on vacation...

More tomorrow,
Leanne

Thursday, November 3 - Amsterdam

Well, we made it! Woke up this morning to a nice, sunny day, which we weren't really expecting. Wow. The hotel here is pretty basic, but the bathroom and shower are wonderful, and after all... that's what we look for in a hotel most these days.

Started our day by making our way on foot toward the train station. The goal was to get Metro passes that would cover any bus or tram (light rail) trips for the next three days. Unfortunately, it's not all that easy to get somewhere in a hurry here; there is SO much to look at that we ended up stopping a million times along the way. One of those stops was at a camera shop, where I found a great deal on a really nice 22-55mm lens I've needed, to replace the piece of crap short lens I've got. Cool.

After getting our Metro tickets, we caught a tram out to the Rijksmuseum. The museum is located in this neat park with ponds and a giant "I amsterdam" sign, so we - along with a couple dozen other tourists - took our pictures next to the sign as the wind blew leaves around. It was one of those gorgeous fall days that you hardly even hope for, so we're making sure we take advantage of every ray of sunlight.

The Rijksmuseum, located in a very upscale neighborhood, is home to many of Rembrandt's most famous works, as well as a lot of his pupils' and teachers.' Here again, it was thrilling to see in person many works of art I've only seen in pictures. Among the museum's collection are pieces such as Jeremiah lamenting the destruction of Jerusalem, The syndics of the Amsterdam drapers' guild, The denial of Peter, and The Night Watch, as well as many, many others. Wow.

Once we'd made it through the museum, we set back out for the hotel to drop our bags before foraging for food. At the recommendation of one of my airplane friends, we set out on a mission for Rijstaffel, an Indonesian meal consisting of numerous meat and vegetable dishes, served with bowls of rice. We ended up near the flower market at an Indonesian warung (I'm assuming that means "restaurant") called Sukabumi, and that's where the REAL fun began. Started the evening off with a really nice bottle of the house wine, and then an array of dishes appeared, the likes of which I had never eaten. Beef, pork, chicken, three kinds of vegetables, tofu, eggs... and every single one was a culinary event in and of itself. I was very sorry to come to the end of it all, but I'm sure we'll be back as soon as I get my wits about me again. It was really that good.

A quick trip through the red-light district (we're tourists so we had to see it, but it wasn't all that interesting), and a stop at the internet café to e-mail home wrapped up the evening for us. Pretty soon, we were heading back to the hotel to crash. More museums to visit tomorrow, and my feet are still just getting their calluses back. Better set aside at least a little recovery time...

Good night,
Leanne

Wednesday, November 2 - Florence Airport

Unbelievably, we're off again... this time to Amsterdam. Normally we wouldn't leave on a Wednesday afternoon like this, and especially not after being in Florence for less than 48 hours after the previous trip. However, in this case availability became a bit of a problem; partially because of the holiday, and partially because Amsterdam seems to be a popular destination. Leaving early helped get flights and hotel accommodations, so we're sitting in the departure lounge, nodding off. Such are the wages of sin, I suppose.

More later, when I wake up...
ZZZZZzzzzzzz.

Monday, October 31, on an Easyjet flight from Paris to Pisa

Well, we're on our way back to Italy. Paris was cool, but as with most of our trips, this one was pretty short. Just a taste of the city, but it's better to do that than to potentially miss out on seeing it until who-knows-when.

Today we really only had until early afternoon, but that gave us time enough to see a couple of things we hadn't gotten to yet. First on the agenda was Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart), a beautiful cathedral in Montemartre. To get there you take the metro to Pigalle, which puts you smack dab in the red-light district - kind of an odd place to keep a famous cathedral when you think about it. From there, we walked up, up, up (more than twice the length of our staircase in Florence - I counted 'em), until you get to the summit of the hill near the church and THEN, when you're bent over and panting, you see the funicular that you could have used to make the ascent. Grr.

Anyhow... we walked through the church sanctuary with the million or so other tourists, and tried not to disturb the faithful as they meditated. It made me feel a little voyeuristic, actually... there were SOOO many of us that it must have been a challenge to focus on what they had come here to do. Although the place was beautiful and I would have liked to linger a little longer, I felt uncomfortable enough that I was glad when we headed out the door.

This landed us back at the funicular station, where we listened to a harpist for a few moments before taking the stairs down. Back to the red light district again, to the Metro station, with our next stop being the Pompideou center. This complex houses both an art museum and a bunch of shops. We didn't have time to explore the center itself, but we stopped for lunch across the way - I had a steak with a red wine and onion sauce, which was pretty good. We've been eating so much pasta in Italy that I've felt a bit on carbohydrate overload, but this trip seems to have satisfied my protein cravings for a while, I think.

Now, as I mentioned, we're on the plane back to Italy. This time around, we were actually able to *board* a flight the first try, and the only hassle seems to be some turbulence. No big deal there; when it gets really bumpy, I just put the laptop on standby until things smooth out.

Next stop... Florence, perhaps.

Ciao,
Leanne

Sunday, October 30 - Paris

Up again for another day in Paris. We're on a mission this morning, to get over to the Louvre and see the art. So, after grabbing a quick breakfast, off we went.

Anyone familiar with the Louvre can attest to the overwhelmed feeling you get when you visit the place for the first time. It's a giant place, with pieces that cover every period form antiquity to the mid-19th century. You have to be a SERIOUS art person to be able to cover it all, and even then it usually takes several days. The average visitor like myself can usually only hope to cover the blockbusters and a few of the representative collections before collapsing, head spinning from trying to absorb the magnitude of what you're seeing. Such was my experience, but it was a happy one. I saw the Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa, the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and dozens of other famous pieces. Up close and in the flesh (so to speak), it's pretty awesome. It's going to take me a while to get my photographs posted, but as soon as I'm back to Florence I'll get going on them.

Wrapping up that visit, we walked back through Tuilerie Gardens and then along the Champs-Elysees to a Metro stop that would take us to our hotel. After dropping cameras we wandered out for a meal, stopping this time into a café near the hotel. After dinner, were wiped out and my feet were killing me (damn these blisters!), so we decided to let discretion be the better part of valor and went back to the hotel early. For some reason, watching rugby and writing postcards seemed like the perfect way to spend the rest of the evening. We've got another Orly-Pisa-Florence trip ahead of us tomorrow, so it'll probably be a good idea to get some rest.

'Till then,
Leanne

Saturday, October 29 - Paris

I'm awake. Still in Paris, or was it a weird dream?

Yep, looks like we really made it. Cool.

The goal for today was to see all the "biggie" sites that one must see when visiting Paris. We started the day with breakfast (of course), and then walked over to the Metro for our first stop at the Eiffel Tower. Now, I have been known to be as jaded as anyone when it comes to tourist attractions. It's even bad enough that people have suggested to me that I might as well not bother with European travel, seeing as the vast majority of the best places to see are also teeming with other tourists. But even *I* have to confess sometimes that these tourist attractions are packed for a very good reason - they're totally cool - and the ones in Paris are no exception. The Eiffel is an awesome structure, and although we weren't willing to spend a couple of hours in line in order to go to the top, it was neat to see it from the ground. Even got a few travel bug pictures.

From there we walked along the Seine toward the Louvre. That's a bit of a hike, as it turned out, but we did a lot of fun sightseeing along the way. One thing that struck me was the number of boats (ships, whatever... I never know exactly what the distinction is) on the river, from barges to sightseeing cruise boats, many of which looked like they were residences, only a lot bigger than the ones you see in slips back home. Kind of a cool place to live if you ask me. We also passed by the Modern Art Museum (which was closed), and then turned along the Champs-Elysees, headed toward Place de La Concorde. That's (again, I'm including information here for those who might not have been here before) this giant intersection with huge roundabouts, two stunning fountains, an obelisk in the middle that, apparently, was a gift from Greece, and the gate leading into Tuilerie Gardens. We hung around for a while, taking pictures and dodging cars, then walked on toward the gardens. At the gate there was a stand selling crepes and waffles, and since we were getting the munchies by this time we indulged; mine was a waffle with powdered sugar. That was good for a pretty good glucose rush, but it was worth it... kind of reminds me of the beignets we used to live on in New Orleans.

Once we'd tanked up on snacks and avoided the panhandlers at the gate, we strolled down through the middle of Tuilerie gardens. The gardens lead up to the entrance of the Louvre, and they've got a bunch of sculptures, a couple of outdoor cafés, and several ponds. At one of the ponds, a guy was renting little sailboats to a group of enthusiastic young sailors. Perhaps they were a bit *too* enthusiastic; two boys in particular began fencing with their sticks, which turned into full-fledged swings as things began getting tense. That gave way to tears as the sticks connected, and the combatants were soon dragged away by their embarrassed parents. It reminded me of the way my brother and I would go after each other at times... I guess kids are pretty much the same, regardless of nationality.

By now the sun was setting, so we left the gardens and stopped briefly at the Louvre to check the next days' hours. Turning back down the Champs-Elysees, we walked to a nearby Metro stop and rode back to the hotel for a breather. Paris subways, incidentally, are different from any I've seen yet; instead of metal wheels on rails, many of them have tires that drive them along narrow tracks. I'm not sure whether that is intended to combat noise or improve the ride. The nearest line to our hotel, line #4, is also uncomfortably hot; it's got to be close to ninety degrees in the trains during the afternoons, which gets to be a serious drag if it's crowded. A couple of times, I found myself standing as close as I could to a window in order to grab any breaths of fresh air I could. Yuck.

After a quick break, it was time to set out for dinner. This time we headed out to the Latin Quarter. The neighborhood is named thus because it was the setting of the major university, and students who came from all over Europe would end up communicating in the language everyone knew: Latin. Dinner was a cheese and tomato salad, another steak, and a crème brulee. Not as good as the meal we'd had the night before, but not bad.

By this time we were thoroughly exhausted, so we headed back to the hotel and turned in. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I've also got new blisters developing, dangit. I thought I was through with all that.

G'night!
-Leanne

Paris, Take II

Friday, October 28

Okay, so we're trying this again. Back to the Pisa airport via the oh-my-god-I'm-really-on-a-bus-at-5am shuttle. It looked pretty foreboding again this morning, with the fog worsening the closer we got to Pisa. Dang.

Nevertheless, we went through the motions and checked in. This time, the airport security folks weren't letting people in to the departure lounge until it was time to board the plane, which made me immediately suspicious. It seemed WAY too much like they were wary of a repeat of yesterday's disaster. But, eventually, they allowed us in, and we lined up at the departure gate. So far, so good. At one point, the gate agents even started printing passenger manifests, which is always a good sign. So we waited.

And waited.

By now it's about 10:00, and the plane that would be used for the 7:00am flight to Gerona, Spain, hadn't shown up yet. But we waited patiently, hoping that the fact that they hadn't changed the departure time (even though we were already late) was still a good sign.

So we waited some more.

Finally, out of the fog comes a Ryanair arrival. The Gerona passengers cheered. We were filled with hope.

Then an Alitalia arrival rolls to the gate. Things are looking up!

Now, it's about 10:45. Air Dolomiti boards a flight headed for Munich. And my feet are starting to hurt, but I'm excited because I'm thinking, yes... we're actually going to Paris!

And then, at 11:00, the monitor over our gate flashes a succinct message: "CANCELLED"

Now, I'm nothing short of furious. I call EasyJet on my cellphone, explain we'd been waiting to depart for over 26 hours, and ask exactly what they plan to do with us. The guy on the other end puts me on hold for a few minutes, and then comes back and says the flight is still scheduled. Incredulously, I tell him that at the airport, they seem to have different ideas. So he puts me on hold again, and a few minutes later comes back on the line and tells me that he spoke to operations, and the plane has made a stop at Genoa, but will be inbound as soon as it's been refueled, and that he would contact Pisa airport so that they can get their story straight. Hmm. Okay.

So we go back to the departure lounge. They have no information on the monitors at this point, and they're not letting anyone in past the security checkpoint, saying that only those whose flights are boarding immediately will be allowed in the lounge. Wow. Nothing to do but wait and hope a plane shows up. So, we headed up to the observation deck, staked out a couple of seats, and waited.

Noon comes, then 12:30, then 1:00pm. No sign of our plane.

But finally, at 1:30... an orange-and-white airplane touches down on the opposite side of the airport. Finally, after over 28 hours late, we're getting to Paris. Yay!

The trip itself was uneventful once we left. Arrived at Paris Orly airport (the other one), transferred to an Air France shuttle into the city, then from there took the Metro to within a few blocks of the hotel. Looked like a nice enough place, in sort of an out-of-the-way residential neighborhood. After stopping in for a moment to drop our bags, we headed out to dinner and to see a bit of the city. Dinner was steaks and some very good scalloped potatoes at a restaurant about three-quarters of a mile away. Afterward, we hopped back on the Metro and walked out the Champs-Elysees, stopping at the Arc de Triomphe. For those who haven't seen it, the Arc, built by Napoleon in one if his more narcissistic fits, is HUGE. It's supposed to boast one of the best vistas of the city, and I could see how that would be true; it's in the middle of an enormous roundabout, and (I think) twelve major roads radiate out from the center. It's a gorgeous place to be at night.

Soon enough we were completely exhausted, and so we headed back to the hotel to collapse. Tomorrow, we'll explore some more.

Bon soir!
Leanne

The trip that wasn't... well, yet, anyway

So we're off to Paris, right? wake up at 4:30am, troop over to the train station on foot because no buses run at that hour, and get on a shuttle to Pisa, where we're supposed to catch our flight. Hour on the bus, check in, get to the gate, and wait.

And wait.

And wait some more. Now they're changing the departure time, ten minutes each time.

So we wait. Then they tell us the flight will be delayed another hour, and our 9:30 takeoff is scheduled for 12:30. So we find a cafe and grab a sandwich.

Then the announcement comes. Flight's been cancelled due to fog--it's on the ground in another city. Then the fun REALLY begins.

No easyJet people at the airport. And they won't talk to us on their customer service line--they tell us to go to the main ticketing counter at the airport (staffed by airport employees who ticket all airlines). The staff there are getting yelled at, and they can't do anything. So we call again. All we can get is a flight out tomorrow morning... the last two seats.

So we get back on the bus, arriving in Florence at about 2:00pm. And we can't get our money back on the pre-booked hotel. Grr. One day down the drain.

We'll try again tomorrow, and we'll be happy about it, come hell or high water. By the way, in case anyone is reading this journal and wondering about the non-sequitur feeling you get as I jump around in time, it isn't that you're losing your mind. I rarely get a chance to post blogs on trips, and when I come back I end up in an eternal state of catch-up on many things, with blogs tending to drift down toward the bottom of the pile. Just keep checking, and things will fall into place. I promise.

Cheers,
Leanne

Trying out a new toy

Trying out a new toy…

Just found out that Blogger has a Word plug-in, and since I’m sort of stuck using this system with Windoze (yuck), I figured I’d give it a shot.  Apologies to those who are bugged by this – at least it isn’t one of those “testing, please ignore” messages people send to e-mail listservers, okay?!?

Sunday, October 16 - Delphi, Greece

Today we left Athens for the Peloponnese, with plans to drive around toward the south and see some of the archaeological sites. To do this we rented a car, which would be dropped off at the hotel. Unfortunately, neither of us remembered exactly what time the rental person would be showing up, so we checked out and installed ourselves in the hotel lobby beginning at about 11:00 and it turned out that we had a couple hours' wait. No big deal, though - the hotel has a wireless internet connection. Not a bad way to pass the time.

Made it out of Athens in one piece. It was kind of scary there for a minute; there were a couple of roundabouts to negotiate and it seems that, in Greece, the approach to right-of-way is something along the lines of "whoever makes the first move has the right of way." That sounds typical, but in practice it gets a little weird, especially when traffic starts merging in from out of nowhere. Guess we just have to be a little more assertive.

At any rate, we drove west for a while, then turned south off the main highway toward a bridge that would get us across to the Peloponnese (it's kind of an island, but I don't know if they actually call it that). Thibes was along the way, and we stopped there hoping to have lunch. We walked up a sort of promenade-type area with a bunch of restaurants, and stopped in at one that had a number of people eating on the patio. At that point, the waiter informed us that the place was a seafood restaurant, and that we would probably be happier at the place across the promenade. Although neither of us had any particular problem with seafood, we figured there must have been SOME reason this had been recommended, so we dutifully walked over to the second restaurant, where we were told the place was closed. By this point - and also having noticed some of the stares we got as we walked up the promenade - it was becoming rapidly apparent that we weren't exactly being welcomed, so after grabbing a brown-bag sandwich at a shop up the road, we moved on.

Before long, we were driving along a mountainside that overlooked the Gulf of Corinth. The scenery had changed from suburban areas and industrial buildings to farms and little towns, and the vistas from the road were often spectacular. By about six or so we had arrived at our destination, a sleepy mountain town called Delphi. Fortunately, the first place we stopped (having seen it in a guidebook), the Hotel Pan, had rooms available. So we checked into a charming little suite with a GREAT view of the valley, and, off in the distance, the gulf. Just to top it off, a full moon was peeking out over the mountains as the sun set, so we grabbed our cameras and headed out to take a few pictures before dinner. Later, after a great dinner of pork kebab and a tomato risotto, we headed off to bed. The only noise is coming from bells on a handful of goats grazing on the hillside below, so I don't think we'll have any problems getting to sleep tonight.

Cheers,
Leanne