Roadtrip 2005

Sunday, November 27 - Last day in Florence

2005-11-27T23:44:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-25T22:38:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-13T21:56:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-12T23:17:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-11T22:48:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-06T23:07:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-05T23:27:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-04T22:52:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-03T23:05:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-02T16:39:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-31T22:22:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-30T21:01:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-29T22:38:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-28T23:14:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-27T12:50:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-22T13:21:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-16T22:35:00.000-07:00

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

Saturday, October 15 - Athens

2005-10-15T22:30:00.000-07:00

Up again after somewhat of a fitful nights' sleep. Seems that about 2am there was about fifteen seconds of gunfire near the hotel. I didn't hear it (I must have actually been sleeping at the time and woke up later), but I guess I must have been the only one who didn't. Nobody seems to talk about what it was, and I'm guessing it's the anarchists the cabdriver told us about. Hope they missed whatever they were shooting at.

Found a travel agent today and booked passage to Crete and a hotel. We'll leave on Friday morning from Athens, stay one night in Iraklion, and then return on Saturday to Athens as we have a 9:00 flight back to Rome on Sunday morning. Cool. Also booked a rental car for the rest of this week, and it'll be dropped off at the hotel tomorrow. Apparently, it's customary for the agencies to do that here, which is kind of neat. Sure beats having to go back to the airport to pick it up, or to have to find a rental car lot here in the city somewhere.

Next of the agenda was to track down a couple of geocaches here in Athens. The whole premise behind geocaching is to get the seekers of your cache to neat places, and because of this it ends up being a cool way to explore parts of a city you might not see otherwise. The first caches we looked for were located in the National Gardens, which are very much like Athens' version of New York's Central Park. Out of three caches hidden there we only found one-there were far too many people around to grab the other two without tipping someone off (non-geocachers who stumble across caches often move, throw away, or pillage them, and in rare cases get suspicious and call bomb squads), so we skipped them and moved on. The park was fun to explore, though. It's a popular place for families, and in the center of the park is a small zoo with a handful of critters who seem well-enough taken care of.

Moving on from the National Gardens, we boarded a subway to the location of our next cache. This one was located on the Hill of the Nymphs, and we got there by walking through a residential neighborhood near the Acropolis and then taking a trail that began right behind a small church. The trail actually led to several interesting spots; the first was an observatory that was built in 1842. It was closed (it's open to visitors one day a month, apparently), but in front of the observatory was a stunning view of the Acropolis, the surrounding hills, and the city. After gawking at the vista and taking my travel bug photos (ha!), we moved on to the adjacent hill of the Pynx, which was an ancient assembly site at which the great orators would address the citizens. It was awe-inspiring to think of who spoke in this place at one time: Aristides, Pericles... and the site is supposed to have held an assembly of about 5000. Wow.

Back on the trail once again, we got to the summit and were greeted with a cool breeze and a great view of the Saronic Gulf. From there it was a short walk to the cache, and after locating it in a crevice we signed the log and swapped a travel bug I picked up in Scotland for one in the cache. We went back the way we came along the trail, and taking a right turn just before arriving back at the church put us right at the ancient city again, which gave us a great chance to walk over to the theater of Dionysos. This ampitheater, first built around the fourth century B.C.E. and then reconstructed in stone and marble in about 345 B.C.E., is where theater as we know it is supposed to have begun. Of course we couldn't leave Athens without paying homage to such a place, so after taking a few pictures, we took seats and waited for ancient voices to speak to us from beyond as the sun set in a cloudless sky.

By this time we were getting hungry, so we went off in search of sustenance. Tonight's feast turned out to be a tomato and cucumber salad, bread, and an unbelievable risotto, made with pork, cheese, onions, tomatoes, peppers, and who-knows-what-else... one of those meals that will stand out in my memory as a highlight of the trip. Finished it off with a white wine and some sort of apertif supplied by the waiter (I've got the name of the stuff written down somewhere, but I can't seem to find it), and feeling somewhat dumbstruck after all the great food, we wandered back down the hill toward the hotel. Once we had left the tourist center, it seemed everything was deserted except for the cats, which are EVERYWHERE in Greece (this country is in desperate need of a spay-and-neuter program). So we scratched a couple of ears along the way, bidding our thanks for the hospitality, and retired for the night. Hope there's no shooting this time.

Friday, October 14th - Athens

2005-10-14T22:58:00.000-07:00

The first of a couple of days in Athens, we think-we'd like to go to the island of Crete, so our length of stay here in the city will depend some on when we're able to arrange a trip over there. Woke up kind of late this morning... should really stop doing that. The shower was sooooo nice, though, and that probably doesn't help speed progress in the mornings either. Argh.

Set out after a quick breakfast at the hotel, and got immediately sidetracked at a CD store. Being in a music store anywhere in Europe is somewhat of a hazard, as it's usually possible to find jazz that's impossible to locate at home. So we browsed some, limiting ourselves to a couple of especially hard-to-find titles. Dropped those off at the hotel, and then I end up stumbling across a bookstore that caters to the business school at the Polytechnic University of Athens, and it's got GREAT stuff-practically the entire management "canon," such as it is. So, I narrowed things down to a couple of things I've had trouble finding, took down a lot of titles, and moved on, vowing to avoid this side of town for the duration of the trip. The guys at the store were very helpful, though, in helping me with contacts at the business school (for a project I'm working on), so that helped make the distraction worthwhile.

After one more hotel drop we were ready to get out and see some of the ancient sites. First on the list, of course, was the Acropolis and the Parthenon, and that was only a moderate walk from the hotel. Soon we were at the bottom of the hill, and since we could see one side of the temple of Athena from there I thought it would be a good place to take pictures of my travel bugs. What transpired next was truly baffling: as I'm getting ready to take a picture of a traffic-cone key chain with the Acropolis in the background, a woman employee of some sort approaches me and asks me what I'm doing. So I explain that the key chain was a toy given to me by a friend, and I was taking it on this trip. Unbelievably, she insisted that I *not* take the picture, because the object I was holding was a "symbol" (of what I never could figure out), and that it wasn't allowed. Huh? So after looking around at the multitudes of other tourists with their cameras, having their own various pictures taken with the hill in the background, I put my stuff away and made a private vow to get the shots from somewhere else.

That minor irritation over, we paid our entrance fees and walked up the hill. As people who stayed awake during their world history class (alas, not me) already know, the Acropolis is home to a number of ancient sites. You begin at the Propylaia, the entrance to the ancient city that was first erected around 430 B.C.E. It's being restored right now, but visitors still enter through the structure, proceeding up a walkway that switchbacks up to the temple of Athena Nike. It was on this footpath where we ran into Judith and Amy, who had hired a guide for their visit. They invited us to join them but we decided instead to explore on our own. We did take this as an opportunity to be annoying, though (so what else is new?), and made sure we got a few compromising photos of their party as we ran into them at the site. I think it's this quality that endears us to all our friends.

Moving on from the Propylaia, you walk up a gently sloping pathway to the Parthenon. The path is made up of both soil and exposed marble, and over the years the marble has become VERY slippery, making me glad I wear my hiking boots just about everywhere I go. After exploring the outside of the Parthenon and taking a bunch of pictures, we walked around it to the south and checked out the museum there. This is where the collection (well, most of it) of sculpture from the site is housed, and we spent an hour or so looking around before we moved on.

The next structure--to the north this time-was the Erechtheion. This particular temple was built on the site where Poseidon was to have struck the ground with his trident, and where Athena produced the olive tree. The distinguishing feature of this building is the six "Caryatids," women figures who support the southern portion of the structure in place of columns. We took a stroll around it with the cameras, and by this time were somewhat saturated... there's a lot to look at and learn about, and it gets to be a lot to take in. So we decided to head down through the Agora (the central meeting place/administrative center in ancient times), and we had just about made it through as the site closed. Not a bad bit of exploring for one afternoon.

Needing to relax a bit and soak it all in, we stopped at a restaurant just outside the Acropolis gates. Thinking we might end up someplace different for dinner, we decided to have appetizers here, and ordered a Greek salad, some sort of meatball dish, and a half-liter of wine, all of which were excellent. Dinner never ended up coming together (we were pretty wiped out by the time we got back to the hotel) but we finished up the evening with a slice of cheesecake at-this still cracks me up-Starbuck's. There's one right near the hotel, and at 10 p.m. it was the only place still open.

Off to dreamland once again. Tomorrow, we do some geocaching...
-Leanne

Thursday, 13 October

2005-10-13T23:17:00.000-07:00

Began the day with another trip to the laundromat. Maybe I’ve mentioned that the only time having no clothes dryer gets to be a MAJOR inconvenience is when you have to catch up on eight day’s worth of laundry (including sheets and towels) in three days. It’s especially problematic when at least one of those days turns out to be cloudy and drizzly. So, I occasionally have to catch up the expensive way. This time, though, I got away with only spending €6. Cool.

So today we’re back on the road again—this time, to Greece. Getting there from Florence involves taking the little bus to the Santa Maria Novella train station in Florence, then taking the Eurostar (the fast train) to the central station in Rome, then to a local train to the airport, and then finally, a flight on Aegean Airlines to Athens. We’ve are also headed for Athens, and as it turns out we’re on the same flights and even ended up sitting next to one another on the train. Considering that we booked our trips with different travel agents, that’s just plain weird. Go figure.

But we had fun getting there—Judith and Harry had to talk shop (ha ha), while Amy, Ruth, and I poked fun at them for having to work. We also enjoyed the scenery—this train goes through some really pretty countryside. One thing that struck me as odd, though, is that there is a substantial difference in pressure when the train passes through a tunnel—it’s enough that I have to equalize my ears on the way through. Amy is a scientist and I should have asked her about it, but I forgot to for some reason. I’ll have to remember when we catch up with them again.

After arriving in Athens, we hailed a cab at the airport (it was nearly 11:00 pm, and nobody felt like trying to navigate on our own through the subways). The cabdriver was very friendly, filling us in a little bit about the Greek sentiment toward Americans (generally, they like Americans but aren’t as fond of our current Administration… where have I heard *that* before?) as we went along. We spotted some police in riot gear as we got into the city, and the driver explained that there is a bit of an anarchist movement here in Athens, and they sometimes express their displeasure with the establishment by attacking police stations. Ouch. Glad we’re not staying in one.

Finally, though, we arrived at our hotel and checked in. Another set of twin beds, but this time the room was VERY comfortable, and has an AWESOME bathroom. Marble tile, great shower… it’s nicer than our bathroom at home. I could live in there.

Bed beckons. G’night!

-Leanne

Reality check: Fifth week

2005-10-12T12:49:00.000-07:00

So life goes on here in Italy. It goes on elsewhere, too, and I suppose that's one of the weird things about being away for an extended period. Yes, I know we're talking about three months, not years. Still, it's long enough to get an idea of time marching on with-or without-your participation. And with this in mind, here's my short list of...

The things I miss about home:

1. The dogs. Though I get to pet dogs a lot, life without Dexter and Punky is definitely not the same as life with them. It's nice that Deborah sends updates a lot, otherwise I'd really be a basket-case. That reminds me, though, that I have made a friend: the neighbors on the first floor (that's the first above street level) have a little tiger-striped cat named Misha, and she gets let out into the stairwell to explore at regular intervals. Since that's where I go type when I'm trying to be quiet, we've become pals, and now she's in the habit of coming up to see if I'm working there (as I have gotten into the habit of propping the door a little open if I think she might come around).

2. Mom and Dad. Though I don't like to rank them against the dogs, the major difference is that I communicate with my parents at regular intervals, where the dogs haven't yet learned to send e-mail.

3. My broadband internet connection. It's HARD to have to go to an internet café a quarter-mile away every time you need to get connected.

4. My bari sax. I've got that rented tenor, and it helps, but it's not a particularly good one-it needs adjusting and misses low notes-and I'm not really a tenor player.

5. Bands. Gosh, I had no idea how much I'd miss playing. For me, music is most fun as a collaborative thing, and it's bumming me out in no small way when I realize it could be next fall before I'm able to get worked back in to any of the groups I've played with. Argh again.

7. Hot showers. Going on trips and staying in hotels really underscores how it positively sucks to be freezing as you shower in the mornings. 'Nuff said.

8. Work time. Although I've been doing my best to get stuff accomplished, it's hard when the necessities of life (cooking, laundry, etc.) take up a lot more time, and then you're without a stable base of operations the rest of it. It's great to travel, but it sure plays hell with getting projects done.

Now that those are out of the way, here's a list of

Things I'm gonna miss when I get home:

1. Not having to drive every day. It's weird-I thought I would have more of a problem with this, but as it turns out, I'm not missing $3.00 a gallon gas or the hassle of having to wash, park, and otherwise deal with cars. I also think that we Americans need to start taking smaller cars a lot more seriously. Some of these little two-seaters have plenty of pep and get something on the order of 50mpg. Now, why can't we figure out how to make something like this available at home?

2. Regular opportunities to work on a second language. I realize I can take lessons at home and make progress, but there's nothing better than being able to practice every day.

3. The food in Italy. It's AWESOME. Don't know how else to describe it.

4. Italian wine. I arrived in Italy not liking wine of any kind, and it only took about a week to clear up that problem. Gosh, I hope the stuff isn't too expensive back home.

5. Gelato de Neri. If this were a normal ice cream shop, I'd lump it in with food, but this place deserves its own mention. If there were a way to transport the whole place back to Burbank I would.

6. The dog-friendly culture in Italy. People who allow dogs into nearly all public places (including shops and on buses) just seem... I dunno... more civilized.

7. The pace of life in Florence. That's not to imply that Italians are lazy-in fact, nothing could be further from the truth. It just doesn't appear that they share America's tendency to live life at an impossible, break-neck speed.

8. Live performances of classical music by world-class ensembles. They're just a short walk and a few euros away here, and we've seen some wonderful stuff.

9. Being in a culture where I don't have to feel like a moral failure because I can't function before 9am. The typical workday here is from 9am-1pm, and then from 3pm-7pm. Gets people home for lunch, too, which has to be good for families.

Anyhow, those are my lists for today. I'm sure they'll change over the next six or so weeks, so I'll probably revisit the topic.

Cheers,
Leanne

Saturday, 10/8/05 11pm

2005-10-08T23:00:00.000-07:00

Made it to Madrid and back, and had a blast! Found the U.K. Airliners.net contingent by nearly-quite literally-running into them on the moving walkway. My arrival into the lounge had been delayed by having to drive all over the airport on the terminal shuttle and THEN go through passport control for some reason, and so I was running to catch up with the rest of the group. As I hopped onto one of those moving sidewalks, I was being slowed down by a bunch of English folks who seemed preoccupied with the equipment they had just been flying on, and suddenly... it clicked.

The next couple of hours were an airplane geek's heaven: being able to wander slack-jawed through an international airport, in the company of people who didn't seem to think that sort of thing was odd. We hung out in the terminal cafeteria (good windows) while we waited for more of our brethren to arrive. By 1pm we'd collected most of the lot, which included members from the U.K., Spain, France, the Netherlands, and me from the U.S. Then, finally, we were ready to roll.

So we headed out-with Andy, our representative from the Isle of Man-driving. Of course Andy was on the wrong side of the road (for him), so I was quite impressed with his ability to navigate the streets of Madrid... he did a far better job that I would have been able to, and I'm used to driving on the right. In any case, after checking him out of a hotel on the opposite side of town (he would join the rest of the group that night), we proceeded to a spotting location that Alfonso (our guide from Spain) had showed Andy the day before. It was right near the taxiway, with arrivals coming from one direction, and departures headed the opposite direction, and the traffic was great-I got pictures of at least a half dozen airlines I had never seen before. Thus it went for the next couple of hours... about ten photographers were there in all, and we had a great time until, all to soon, I had to head back to the terminal for my flight back to Barcelona.

The ride home on Iberia was pleasant enough, but this trip was way too short, and I only got to read about the fun the rest of the crew had over the next couple of days. Still, it was a total kick to be able to jump over there and meet them, even if only for a few hours.

Until Amsterdam, that is... :-)

Bye,
Leanne

Saturday, October 8th

2005-10-08T09:33:00.000-07:00

On an AM flight to Madrid...

Another early morning. Today the plan is for me to fly from Barcelona to Madrid to meet my airliners.net friends. A bunch of us are invading Madrid to photograph stuff there and generally hang out. I can't wait-it's been a year and a half since I joined that community, and I've never met anyone in person in that time. This should be cool.

Harry graciously offered to drive me to the airport, and so we headed out. I had a map of Spain to work with (hint: not the best scale in the world), and I thought I had a pretty good idea of how to get there. But the airport turned out to be nearly impossible to find; after making about a thousand U-turns, it seemed as though we weren't much closer. We hopped off the highway onto a side street, and having no real idea where to go from there (none of this is helped by the fact that the road signage-throughout Spain, it seems-truly sucks), Harry deposited me in a cab to get me the rest of the way there. It cost nearly €30 to get there, but I made it just in time to run up to self-check-in, and then run onto my flight. Now, I'm on an Iberia A320 headed to the MAD (an airline I only see in pictures, let alone actually FLY on). Also managed to get a window seat, since the person who was apparently supposed to be sitting next to me never showed up. And I even got a peek at a Russian jet-probably an Ilyushin IL-62-which was sitting on the ramp as we took off. Very cool.

We're descending now over some hilly terrain. I see what appears to be a nuclear power plant in the distance off the right side of the plane. The ground below me looks like a desert with a number of what must be freshwater lakes strewn about. I don't know if the appearance is because crops have been harvested by now, but I suppose I'll find out. At any rate, I guess I'll have to finish this later, so...

Ciao for now,
Leanne

Friday, 10/7 - Lloret de Mar, Spain

2005-10-07T22:52:00.000-07:00

Woke up shivering this morning. Apparently, all the rooms at this hotel come with twin beds, which would be tolerable if they had provided adequate blankets. Argh. Memories of the inferno hotel in Glasgow are floating deliciously through my head...

But we had things to do. First on the agenda was breakfast; turns out there was a little boardwalk-style shopping area behind the hotel, where we found a café that served these awesome chocolate croissants. Gotta love a country in which chocolate is practically a national treasure! Also behind the hotel was a small Catalunian chapel, and I had to grab a few pictures before we moved on. That style is like nothing else I've seen in Europe; bright colors, polished tiles... looks a lot like something I'd put on the wall at home.

Next on the agenda was to find the car and head toward Barcelona. That turned out to be a slow process, mostly because the signage in Spain is almost completely useless to the tourist. For example, the signs on roads coming out of a roundabout may not be visible until AFTER you've had to turn on that road. This results-in our case, anyway-in a lot of U-turns, and it took until almost 1pm to find a place to catch a train into the Barcelona city center (driving there is sort of like driving to central Manhattan-not worth the trouble). Once we found it, however, the remainder of the trip was smooth, and it was fun to speed along the coast, often within a stone's throw of the water's edge.

Arriving in Barcelona, we transferred to the Metro (subway), and found the Sagrada Familia cathedral. This is the famous gothic cathedral designed by Gaudi, and it lived up to its billing in a big way; the art that covered it was nothing short of amazing. We walked around the cathedral (it takes up about a city block), shooting pictures along the way. Most intriguing to me was the gargoyles; they came in all shapes, including animals such as frogs, lizards, serpents, and snails. Lunch came next at a café across from the cathedral, and consisted of a very decent paella (seasoned rice and vegetables baked with chicken or shrimp in a metal pan). It was fun to sit there and people-watch-we were very close to the metro station and saw people ranging from the most jaded tourists to Spanish schoolkids.

Hopping back on the metro, our next stop was Las Ramblas Avenue, which is sort of a "Tourist Central" in Barcelona. They say that if you get pickpocketed anywhere in Europe, it will most likely happen here, and I can see how that's true-there are about a gazillion people walking along this road (it's actually more like a very wide median that goes down the center of the avenue), and lots to distract oneself with. It started with bird vendors, then progressed to flower stalls, with street performers in all kinds of costumes along the way. Fortunately we didn't get pickpocketed, and before turning back toward the metro that evening we stopped for dinner... at an Indian restaurant. Leave it to us to eat Indian in whatever country we end up in.

This took us up to our witching hour, and it was time to hit the metro back to the regional train that would take us toward Lloret de Mar. After about a 45-minute wait in the underground station (we found we could doze by sitting back-to-back on a bench), we were on a train speeding back up the starlit coast. Back to the car and back to Hotel de Frigidare for the night. Still, a hot shower makes up for a lot.

More manaña,
Leanne

Hitting the dusty trail again

2005-10-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

Well, my birthday came and went without any ill effects, and as of 3:45 this morning, we're on our way to Spain. The hideous hour is necessary because Ryanair (one of Europe's low-cost airlines) keeps its flights cheap by flying at strange hours to the strange airports it flies to. Since more of the low-cost airlines fly from Pisa than from Florence (well, actually, more of the regular airlines fly from there, too), the trip to the airport involves about a mile or so walk to the Santa Maria Novella train station in Florence (no buses operate at that hour), a 1 1/2 hour train trip to Pisa, and then the 2-hour flight from Pisa to Barcelona. The airport we're flying to (again, this is a Ryanair thing) is Girona, about 70km north of Barcelona. To split the difference, we booked a hotel in between, in Lloret de Mar. It's right on the coast, so it should be a nice place to hang out.

After getting off the plane, we waiting in an interminable line at the Hertz rental counter--seems the system was running a bit slow. Our patience was rewarded, however, with an upgrade to a Renault Magane instead of the tiny hamster-powered car we'd booked, and it's pretty nice. It's also diesel-burning, which seems odd but is obviously very common in Spain. Gets some nice pick-up on the roundabouts, too.

Once we had the car, we drove north. One of us noticed that the French border was just about 75 km away, and so we thought, hey... what a cool place to go for lunch. Then, having no other agenda for the day, I persuaded (though it wasn't all that hard) Harry to stick in southern France for the day, and we drove on toward Tolouse, home of the Airbus plant and the test facility for the behemoth A380. The drive was gorgeous, and in a couple of hours (allowing for a few twists and turns), we were at the airport, looking for anything that resembled a super-jumbo aircraft. Somehow, we found the active runway, and a cool spot right at the threshold where we were able to watch the arrivals at close range. The only drag about this spot was that it was totally backlit at this time of day, but it was still fun, and I even found a spotter's platform with a couple of guys there taking pictures over the fence. Incredibly, one of them-a French chap with a Canon set-up similar to mine, asked (in French) if I'd like to see a spot on the other side of the airport. Of course I did, and after collecting Harry, we drove around the end of the runway to the opposite side, parked, and walked up a short hill to a spot at the top. It had an unbelievable view of the taxiway, the touchdown point, and--as a bonus--full sun that made for great photography.

Needless to say, I was having a blast clicking away, but the best was still yet to come. Soon, a Virgin Atlantic A340-so new it wasn't yet painted-was taxiing by for a run-up test. A few minutes later, a Turkish A330 did a high-speed taxi and brake test on the runway. Then, when I thought things couldn't get any better, Beluga Five, one of Airbus's five Super Transporters, began a slow roll toward us, preparing for its takeoff to Hamburg, Germany. The Beluga is a wild-looking airplane; it's used to ferry large assemblies (like fuselages) from one Airbus plant to another, and its enormous fuselage is the widest of any transport except, possibly, for the Antonov AN-225. I got some great shots of it taxiing by, then as it made its takeoff roll and lifted off into the blue sky. It was the weirdest-looking aircraft I've ever photographed.

Unfortunately, it was getting late in the afternoon by this time, so we had to bid my new friend good-bye and head back south to Spain. It was a lovely drive and we were treated to a beautiful sunset. Soon, we were in Lloret de Mar and hunting around for the hotel. We found it-right on the waterfront overlooking the Mediterranean-and although it isn't exactly the Ritz, it's clean and has a wonderful bathroom with GREAT water pressure. Funny how those little things can mean SO much.

Ciao for now,
Leanne

The second chapter...

2005-10-04T11:55:00.000-07:00

… of a very busy month. It seems that, over the month of September, none of the planned trips ended up being scheduled and instead, they got stacked up in October. Given that the semester break also falls this month, it may well turn out that we end up spending more time out of Italy than in it. It’s kind of cool in a stupefying sort of way—we end up getting three days between trips to get work done and do laundry, and then we’re off again. But hey—far be it for me to complain. This is still the opportunity of a lifetime. The next stop: Spain—a day or so in Barcelona, and I’ll also take a one-day side trip to Madrid to meet some of my airplane-geek friends and hopefully, do some photography at the airport. Can’t wait.

Meanwhile, though, I’m trying to get some website work out for a couple of clients, and wishing I had time to edit all the pictures I’ve been taking. I just looked, and it seems that they’re really beginning to stack up. Might take me longer than the duration of this trip to get them all posted.

What else is happening… oh yeah, it’s my birthday. Whoopee… I’m screaming down that awful hill toward forty. It’s kind of weird to be celebrating it six thousand miles from home, but then again, it could be worse—a few years ago, I spent a birthday doing a press check in Greenfield, Ohio, which is this tiny town hidden in the cornfields, somewhere between Dayton and hell. I remember, like it was yesterday, going to Bob Evans for dinner that night (it made Denny’s look like the Ritz Carlton) and sleeping on a couch at the printing plant for about an hour and a half at a time before they’d wake me again to check something. And the worst part about that entire trip? The plant STILL managed to screw up our job when they trimmed it. What a wasted birthday.

On other fronts, it seems the vermin wars down on the Arno have taken a sinister turn. This afternoon we were walking across the bridge toward home when we noticed that one of the rats had made a kill and was dragging the spoils away toward its lair. I didn’t see the event, but a couple of British gents had and confirmed that the rat had scrambled up the wall pigeons sit on to grab its prey. Yikes! I don’t think I could have possibly influenced this behavior (any rat that’s snatching pigeons off a wall knows what it’s doing), but it’s creepy nonetheless. Could I be contributing to a race of super-rats? Ew.

That’s all for the moment… got to get back to work. I’m putting electric fencing around the apartment building. Just in case.

Cheers,
Leanne

In search of Nessie

2005-10-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning we were back in the car-driving on the left, of course-and headed north to chase monsters. Judging from our map, the Loch Ness and its famous inhabitant should be about 130 or so miles away, so we figured it would be a workable day trip. However, first on the agenda was to try again to find that geocache by the river. Having taken another look at the cache page I felt pretty certain I knew where it was, and so we drove back out to the airport. With Harry standing guard at the car, I took a brisk stroll back out to the beacon, found the cache (yay!), said goodbye to Builder Bob as I swapped out two travel bugs I was carrying for two different ones, and jumped back into the car just as it started to rain again. With that find, I've now logged geocaches in three different countries. Cool, eh? (Yeah, I know it's geeky... but it's fun.)

Hopping back on the road, we turned the car north toward what we thought would be the highway junction at Dumbarton. And it might have worked, except that we missed the turnoff and found ourselves headed west along the Firth of Clyde-and there were no other bridges nearby that would get us to where we needed to be. Fortunately we're used to stuff like that happening, and so we decided instead to see if we could find a ferry to a town called Dunoon, take highway 815 north to highway A83, and take that back to the highway we originally needed to be on.

Lesson #1 about highways in Scotland: they always do WAY more winding around than you realize when you look at a road map of the entire country, and that results in speeds far slower than what you'd experience on, say, I-395 in the middle of the California desert.

Oh well. At least the car ferry was fun, and using my long lens I was able to get some great pictures of the coastline. A 20-minute boat ride put us into Dunoon, and we drove around the Argyll Forest Park, stopping frequently to take pictures.

Once we hit highway A83-hours after we had originally planned to-we drove north around Loch Long, and then ambled north up A82 in the hopes of getting to Loch Ness before Nessie turned in for the evening. Sad to say, we searched and searched, but I didn't see her anywhere. I took a few pictures, though-some say she's actually easier to spot that way, and I've posted the results here for further inspection. Seems she's a friendly monster, and I also heard a tale that she actually follows the odd visitor around. I didn't notice anything of the sort, but you know how those legends are... maybe I'll be surprised.

Heading southeast now around an area known as Rob Roy Country, we were treated to some beautiful views of mountains and waterfalls. We drove through the tiny towns of Strathyre and Callander, and then stopped in Doune to visit the Doune castle. It's closed to visitors for the winter, but we were able to walk around the castle and the surrounding streams and take pictures. Along the way we passed several fly fishermen who were taking advantage of an evening hatch, and the setting couldn't have been more idyllic... it looked exactly like the pictures I've seen in fishing calendars. I would have liked to hike out a little farther, but the sun was beginning to set so we had to begin the journey back to Glasgow.

Arriving back at the hotel after stopping for dinner along the way, we had to shower and crash pretty quickly so we could catch a 7:00 flight the next morning back to Italy. It was kind of an exhausting pace, but I'm glad we came. Scotland is beautiful, and I'd love to return again someday. Even if Nessie really *is* just a mythical creature...

More from Italy,
Leanne

Argh... it's HOT!

2005-09-30T13:29:00.000-07:00

Not the weather, mind you, but our hotel room. Although I'd like to claim there was some good reason for it being this way (like us doing jumping jacks... get your dirty little minds out of the gutter), it was just that dang radiator. I can barely stand to pull a sweater on, even for the few seconds it takes to grab my key and get out of the room to breakfast. Yuck.

Fortunately, we made it down to the dining room (the hotel rate included a full Scottish breakfast-yummy!), and then headed outdoors where it was safe. The bad news, f you can call it that, is that the weather is chilly and kind of damp. But we expected that-it is Scotland, after all-and so we jumped into the car, determined to find a nearby geocache and swap out a couple of travel bugs. The cache was located near the Glasgow airport (not to be confused with the Prestwick airport, which is where we arrived), and it took a little hunting around to find the right road-I've got to get into the habit of printing out cache pages again. But we finally found the correct road and followed it-first by car and then on foot-out toward a beacon next to the river. Once we got there we hunted around in the mud and thistles to no avail-it seemed this cache was nowhere to be found. Scratched (a part of a retaining wall collapsed under my foot), muddy, and a little disappointed, we headed back to the car, cleaned up as best we could, and headed for a local pub for a sandwich. Afterward we turned toward Edinburgh, driving about an hour in mild traffic toward the city.

At first glance, Edinburgh seemed like nothing special. We parked in a very run-of-the-mill neighborhood and set out on foot, looking for the Edinburgh castle (I should point out that we had no guidebook for Scotland and no time to get one, so we were really "winging it" on this trip), which seemed to be somewhere on the other side of town. Our first stop-only a few blocks away-was the Gorgi Community Farm, which was a tiny, honest-to-goodness farm right smack dab in the middle of the city. The farm comes complete with friendly piglets, friendly calves and goats, and friendly staff members who patiently answered my questions about the state of agricultural exports and general economics of farming in Scotland. It seems that this place is supported mostly by donations and staffed by a few regular paid hands and a number of volunteers, and it exists, apparently, as an educational resource for the community. It was both weird and neat to see this little haven in the middle of the city, and after taking a few pictures and scratching a few heads, we got back on the sidewalk and headed east toward the city center.

Our destination now (courtesy of the lady at the postcard shop, who did her best to give us directions) was the "Royal Mile," which was supposed to be in the middle-more or less-of the city. Nothing that fit the description was showing itself, and after a while we began wondering if we had either missed it or if the place simply didn't live up to its billing. Then, we turned a corner, and were suddenly greeted by a stunning view of the castle from Prince Street. It was breathtaking-the castle sits atop a hill, and is separated from Prince Street by a gorge that has been turned into a city park. We turned on the next street--I don't remember the name, but it's the site of the Scottish Gallery--and the crossed the bridge toward the Royal Mile and the castle itself. Although the site was closed to visitors for the day, we got a nice look around the Scotch Whiskey gallery (gotta love a country that has a gallery like that for one of its most important exports) before heading east again.

Turning south again, across the bridge that crosses over the train station, we stopped and watched the most spectacular sunset I've seen in many months. The sky turned bright gold, and then shades of pink while we took pictures and watched the sun disappear. We continued back on Prince Street, but the fireworks hadn't ended just yet; soon, scattered orange and red clouds lit up the evening sky. It was a great evening to cap off a fun day.

Getting hungry by this time, we turned our attention toward the restaurant menus, and Harry convinced me to give a Nepalese place a try. It was really, really good-a lot like Indian food, with a slightly different (and somewhat more potent) mix of spices. Despite my initial trepidation, I ended up enjoying the meal, and we'll definitely have to stop in again the next time we get out to Edinburgh. Walked back to the car-about 2 1/2 miles by this time-stopping into an internet café along the way to check e-mail. Arrived back at the hotel in one piece ("driving on the LEFT!") and found that the housekeeping folks were able to shut down the radiator. Awesome.

Cheers,
Leanne

And we're off!

2005-09-29T13:23:00.000-07:00

So Monday, we have no weekend plans. Tuesday, we've got tickets to Glasgow, Scotland, and on Thursday we're on a plane to the land of rainbows and Nessie, the Loch Ness monster. How cool.

The flight was about 2 1/2 hours on Ryanair, one of Europe's most popular no-frills low cost airlines. The flight was actually kind of interesting-I had heard a lot of horror stories about Ryanair being bad, and not having any specifics I didn't quite know what to expect. What we got was exactly what they promised-no frills service and a trip to an out-of-the-way airport, but we arrived in Scotland for just a few pounds, to a windy Prestwick airport with scattered clouds blowing across the sky. Not bad at all.

Prestwick is about 25 miles from the city of Glasgow, and after getting our rental car (another Nissan Micra-the same car we end up with every time we rent a car in Europe, and EVERY time we've ended up returning the car with a missing hubcap), we were on our way into town. Since Scotland is part of the U.K. you drive on the left here, and it's always a little terrifying the first time we get on the road. It's also easy to forget, and every morning (or at various points throughout the day, like when we pull away from a restaurant onto a two-way road with no median), our mantra-left over from the trip to Ireland-is "we're... driving on the LEFT!!!" Chanting it-especially when the driver has forgotten and oncoming traffic is looming ever closer-seems to keep us out of mischief.

The hotel-the Devoncove Hotel-was located in a very working-class neighborhood, which is almost always more interesting than the sterilized realms of the tourist resorts. Once we checked in we went for a short walk, stopping in for a burger and some really good tomato basil soup at a local pub. Indian restaurants abound-they're very popular throughout the U.K. and Ireland-but we'll save that for tomorrow night.

Dropping off to sleep-and the room is roasting. How on earth do we turn off the heat? There's a radiator in the room, but no switch or dial that we've been able to find seems to help matters. Ugh.

G'night!
-Leanne

A day in the life of an American in Florence

2005-09-28T11:12:00.000-07:00

It seems that, after international trips, I usually come home and find—to my regret—I didn’t take as many photos as I would have liked that show what everyday life is like in that country. Part of the problem is that as a tourist, you never get all that clear a sense of what life really *is* for the locals; we usually tend to get a sterile view of what it means to be a resident of any particular place until we’ve lived there a while. With this in mind, I offer up this little photo-documentary of a typical morning in my little world. Apologies in advance to those who will undoubtedly be bored stiff by this blog entry, and thanks for allowing me this brief self-indulgence. Clicking on any image will get you a large version.

Every day begins in the shower. Here’s another shot of the bathroom; to better imagine what I couldn’t show you in this picture, keep in mind that I shot it from a semi-prone position on my bed.

On to the dining room, which is where I work and write blogs. My laptop is visible in the picture, as well as my Flashtrax and a few assorted foodstuffs. The doorway to the left leads to the bedroom, and the infamous bathroom is immediately to the left after that door.

Here's our living room, viewed from the front door. In the foreground at the very top of the picture are ceiling beams that just barely clear my head. On the left you'll see my laundry-I was drying sheets. Just after I took this, I moved the laundry outside to dry, as it was sunny this morning.

Once I've completed the morning routine and am ready to head out, I begin descending the 68 stairs. Here's the first landing, complete with a bench that can be used in case of a heart attack.

And here's the second landing... to the right is our landlord's apartment.

The third landing; there's a chair lift visible at the bottom of these stairs. It's too slow and noisy to be of much practical use to the able-bodied, but we do use it to move heavy suitcases up to the third floor.

Here's the fourth landing. To the left is the apartment where Houdini the Cat lives between escape attempts.

And here's the fifth landing...

...and the sixth. Not visible to the left is a marker that shows how high the Arno rose when it overflowed its banks in 1966.

Here's the seventh landing...

... and finally, we're at ground level. It's a lot easier going down than up!

Down this hallway, and then out the door to the street.

Here's the outside of our building door, photographed from across the street.

On most days, I turn left and head up toward the river. Here's the scene this morning from about fifty yards away from our apartment.

And here's a close-up of what they were rolling up the road. Hope a bus doesn't hit them.

A right turn at the end of our block points me north. This particular block takes a while to warm up in the mornings.

And finally, I get to the Arno river. Here's a look to the east.

And here's a peek to the west. The Ponte Vecchio is in the background, maybe a quarter-mile away.

Here's a candid shot of some residents of the Arno bank. I've enlarged the highlighted area to give you a close-up look at my little warrior friends.

Turning north, here's a look down our bridge, the ponte alle Grazie.

Here's where the local drivers wait while the pedestrians get into the best position to be run over.

I think these little electric buses are cute; they're tiny and very quiet. I'm also glad they have beepers to warn you when they're coming. It's a little like putting a bell on a cat; it gives the pedestrians a sporting chance.

A delivery van, European-style.

It looked like these guys were racing up the hill.

This piazza has about three clubs that get over-run by college students nearly every night. I'm glad I'm a few blocks away.

Parking is notoriously difficult here in Florence, and when drivers can't find a space, they often create one. This is the only city I've been in where you are not only -NOT- safe in the crosswalks-you're at risk even on the sidewalks.

Here's the Internet Train, where most of my e-mails and blogs get transmitted.

Tour groups are a fact of life in the middle of Florence, and most of the guides carry some sort of tall stick (or sometimes an umbrella) that they hold up for their ducklings to follow. This one seems to be calculating the life expectancy of her group should they cross at that particular corner.

Here's Café Mario, where I get breakfast most mornings.

Here's one of the staff members at Mario's.

And here's the cappuccino guy. He's Mario's grandson.

Finally, we have Mario himself. He's a fixture in the café most mornings.

Postal vehicles are a bit on the smallish side here in Italy.

They've installed these so the American kids can call our mothers when we get homesick. Most are designed with calling cards in mind, it seems-even though they're supposed to take coins, that function is usually broken.

Here's the lady at the orologeria up the street who fixed my watch. She's also quite a talented painter, and watercolors of her cats adorn the shop.

Moving on to the CAPA office, we'll take a peek up the stairs.

Nothing interesting is happening at CAPA this morning (everyone besides me is working), so we'll move on to the piazza around the corner. Visiting American faculty have dubbed this spot the "Drunken Tunnel," in honor of the ne'er-do-wells that usually inhabit it. You can spot them drinking beers here beginning at about 9am.

Here's Standa, our local supermarket. Although many things are more expensive here in Europe, tomatoes are not. This morning, they sold at €1.69 per kg, which comes to a little over four pounds for less than two dollars. This place rocks.

Here's the Laundromat, where you can spend insane amounts of money to run a couple of loads. Needless to say, I've gotten very good at washing and hanging my own at home.

Right up the street, we see a local chef taking a smoke break. It seems smoking has recently been banned inside restaurants within the city limits. Four hours later, we walked by again and found him in almost exactly the same place. Must be one hell of a cigarette.

Back on my (the south) side of the Arno, I managed to catch this bell tower at the stroke of noon. This is about a block and a half away from the apartment.

Just around the corner from the bell tower, we see a typical Florentinian street.

My favorite little deli/convenience store. This is where most our bottles of wine are purchased.

For €10, you can get a GREAT buffet lunch here, complete with wine. Best of all, it's less than a block from home.

Heading back to the apartment, we peek in at a local woodshop, where these two gents are busy restoring antique furniture.

Finally, we go in the building door, climb the 68 steps, and we're home!

So that's a spin around the neighborhood, with more to come at some later date. I'll also recap the Siena/San Gimignano trip shortly. Meanwhile...

Ciao!
-Leanne

So much to write about, so little time…

2005-09-26T13:20:00.000-07:00

…at the computer.

Rick and Donna have been here, and we’ve been out having a good time, so I haven’t had much time to work, edit pictures, or write blogs. Sorry, Mom… I’ll try to mend my ways.

Fortunately, it’s been fun. Sunday and Monday were those get-settled-in-and-used-to-the-time-difference sort of days, and so we did a fair bit of wandering around, had a couple of great dinners, walked up to the Piazzle Michangelo and then up to San Minato, and generally had a good time doing nothing really earth-shattering. Since Rick and Donna are foodies, we tried twice to show them the Mercado Centrale over the weekend, but each time we showed up the place was closed—finally, we checked the hours and found that it’s closed EVERY day after 1:00. Doh.

Tuesday, we hopped a train headed for the coast. The trains here can be a little confusing at first, and it took a few minutes to sort out which ticket we needed and then where to go meet the train itself. It’s also been a challenge to figure out how the international trains are scheduled and what tickets cost, so we still don’t really know what we’re doing next weekend. But once you’re on the train with ticket in hand, it’s a pleasant trip. They’re convenient, they’re fast, and some trips can be VERY cheap—tickets to Pisa (a little over an hour away) were something like €5 each way. It’s also a nice way to see the countryside, and this part of Italy is really beautiful.

Our first stop was in Pisa, with a plan to check out the city and its famous leaning tower. The train station and the area where all the tourist stuff is are on opposite sides of town, so we had a walk of maybe a mile or so each way. Along the way, we saw this tiny chapel along the river—Chiesa Santa Maria della Spina. Besides its age (it was built starting in 1230), it was especially interesting for the way it was placed aside the Arno; it looked almost as though it was there long before the river was routed along that particular path. Later in the day we ran into a Scottish chap who explained that a bridge used to cross at that point, and that there was some interest among the artists and history buffs in the community to have it rebuilt. In any case, it’s been perched in that spot for hundreds of years now, and I’m sure it will go on long after we’re all gone, barring any major overflows of the Arno that might carry it away.

Moving along from the chapel, we headed toward Pisa’s tower and the Duomo. We were able to spot the tower from a couple blocks away, and it most definitely leans… I think it’s got about an 80-85 degree angle of tilt (this image doesn't really do that justice), and it’s pretty weird to see it hanging there like that. There, we took the obligatory tourist pictures and also one of my travel-bug hitchhiker, Builder Bob. After checking into the cost to climb the tower and finding that tickets were €15 and involved a two-hour wait, we decided to skip it and headed back toward the train station, taking a bunch of pictures along the way.

The next stop, about ten minutes away, was Viareggio. Rick chose it because it was on the coast, but I didn’t realize until we hit the street there that it was very much a beach town, complete with the same laid-back attitude of every place I’ve ever surfed in California. We walked the mile and a half or so to the shore, crossed the sand to the water, and then Donna and I shed our shoes so we could get our feet wet in the Ligurian Sea. The water was warm and there were still kids playing in the waves, and we picked up shells and watched the sun set as we walked another half mile or so down to the marina. It was one of the most profound reminders I’ve had of home to date, and it wouldn’t have taken much to make me paddle out until dark. You can take the kid away from the ocean, I suppose, but you take the ocean out of this California girl.

We grabbed a slice of pizza on the way back in a little snack shop near the train station. Since we had a few minutes to wait out before our train left, we stopped into another café to see about having a drink. As it turned out, this was really more of a cappuccino bar, but they had a few liquors on the wall and with some specific explanation of what we wanted, we all had drinks in hand in the five minutes or so before the place closed. Trouble was, the inexperience behind the bar translated into a “part” being about three ounces of whatever liquor went into the drink, and Donna and I ended up with some serious firewater that we both knew we’d never be able to consume without keeping our proprietors WAY beyond their closing time, so we asked for plastic cups and, unbelievably, got them. After crossing the road to the train station and finding our train, we asked the Trenitalia employee on the ramp if it was okay to have our drinks on the train, to which she replied that there was no drink service on this trip. After trying again to clarify what we meant, the woman says, “Oh! Drunks on train! Yes, yes! Go ahead!” We boarded with a laugh, and although I still was never able to finish my own drink, we sipped them carefully as the train passed through the Italian night toward its last stop in Florence.

More to come about Siena and San Gigimiano. ‘Till tomorrow…

-Leanne

Stuff I don’t normally get around to writing about…

2005-09-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

Since I’m up (at 5:18 am), I guess it’s a good time to describe a few things I keep forgetting about. One such topic could be the cause of my being awake. Although I believe I may be the first to write about this as a syndrome, it was first identified by Judith, so I will henceforth refer to it as:

The Branzburg Effect
The Branzburg effect is a neurological condition caused when a mosquito approaches within six inches of the auditory canal of its intended, sleeping host. The high-frequency sound waves generated by the beating of the mosquito’s wings result in a state of immediate consciousness from which the host requires several hours (or, often, an entire 24-hour period) to recover from. The long-term effects of chronic exposure to the Branzburg effect are not known, but are thought to include gradual deterioration of the host’s emotional state, general malaise, and in rare cases, insanity.

Mental Housecleaning
Other items I should include here are things I’ve forgotten to address in other blogs. Of note is one contributing factor to the situation at the bus station last Saturday. As my readers (whomever they might be) should recall, I took a stroll down to the Laundromat earlier that day to dry towels, and we were going to head for the airport shortly thereafter. After getting moderately-to-hopelessly lost, our leisurely trip via the bus became a mad scramble for any means of transport to our destination. Anyhow, the thing I neglected to mention was that this situation was exacerbated by the fact that the streets here in Florence were temporarily—but seriously—gridlocked by a parade of what must have been about a thousand Harley-Davidsons. Apparently here for a meet of some sort, they descended upon the community like a swarm of B-17s, managing first to keep me from arriving home on time with my freshly-dried towels, and then to keep us from arriving on time to the Santa Maria Novella stazione. Although I was intrigued by the obvious popularity of motorcycles with engines larger than those of many cars here in Europe, the chaos it caused in the streets could not have come at a more frustrating time. Still, it was interesting to watch as the riders were a Harley owners’ group in full biker garb, and we saw chapters that hailed from all over Italy, Switzerland, a few from the U.S., and one particularly dedicated gent from Malaysia. Counterculture lives!

And now for something completely different…
I have to preface this story with the disclaimer that what I’m about to describe is easily one of the most juvenile things I’ve done in—I dunno—at least a week or so.

Anyhow… it seems there’s quite an elaborate little ecosystem in our corner of the Arno River. In some sections, there are soil banks within the brick and concrete walls, and they support a surprising variety of wildlife. I’ve mentioned the nutria and the bats, but at various times we’ve also seen herons, ducks, turtles, rats, the ubiquitous pigeons, and whatever fish live in the shallow areas.

Now, on a seemingly-unrelated note, we’ve also noted that the bread we buy here, although some of the best I’ve eaten anywhere in the world, has an astonishingly short shelf life because it lacks all those preservatives that poison us in the bread at home. Simply put, it turns to granite in about two days, and since our mothers impressed upon us all those years ago that it was a sin to waste food, we’ve had these rocks that resemble bread sitting around in the apartment. At some point it was suggested that a hammer might render these edible to the local birds, but we just hadn’t gotten around to finding a hardware store in order to procure the necessary implements. So…

The other morning, Donna and I trekked out to Mario’s café for a breakfast panini. Since Donna is gluten-intolerant (I forgot how she described it in technical terms, but apparently gluten is an enzyme or whatever that’s found in wheat flour, and in certain folks it acts sort of like a flesh-eating bacteria—something that can’t be a whole lot of fun), she avoids bread and ended up with a leftover roll from her panini, which we tore up and tossed to the birds and ducks down in the Arno on our way home. This gave me the idea—evil as it might be—to take one of the bread-flavored rocks from home and give it to the river fauna. Except that instead of breaking it up (remember, I don’t have a hammer), I’d just toss it out there whole and see what happened.

What can I say? It was a slow morning, and I had until at least lunchtime before I was expected to meet with Judith and begin behaving like an adult.

So I stopped by home, grabbed a large rock—I mean, roll, and took it out to the Arno. By this time the ducks had moved to the center of the river, but there were still pigeons hanging around and a few rats were running about in the grass. I tossed the roll out, whole, and we leaned over the railing like spectators at a gladiator bout to see what happened. The toss, apparently, was spotted by all the critters, and as the ducks made their way toward the bank across the current, the pigeons and rats moved in. This was gonna be good. :-)

One end of the roll broke off in the drop, and it was one of the rats that spotted it first. Like lightning, he grabbed the piece of bread and disappeared into a hole under the brush. The rest of the roll remained intact, and while the pigeons scoped out the situation and made a few attempts to get to the prize, two more rats chased them away. The rodents then jumped on the bread, ending up in a hilarious tug-of-war with each rat trying to drag the roll toward its respective hideout. After settling down for a moment and munching at opposite ends, greed overcame them and they leveled their sights on one another. The result was a spectacular rat-fight that kept the combatants preoccupied for probably thirty seconds, until one or the other realized that the pigeons and ducks were about to snatch up the spoils. Abandoning the tussle, the larger of the two rats decided to try and outrun the competition. So he grabbed the roll (which was about as big as he was) and bounded away through the grass in a jumping motion, looking every bit like an inebriated jackrabbit and leaving the human spectators of this bout helpless with laughter.

On that note, I’ve noticed it’s getting light outside, so I’ll go get dressed. We’re off to Pisa this morning, and it’s time to go get lost again at Santa Maria Novella.

More as it happens…
-Leanne

Back at the computer

2005-09-19T00:22:00.000-07:00

Finally, I get a chance to get to the computer! It’s been a fun couple of days… now I just have to remember what I was doing when I left off. Hmm…

Saturday afternoon, we headed to the airport to meet my friends Donna and Rick. We walked up to the bus station because we had been told one could catch a bus to the airport from there, and it was immediately apparent when we got there that we had absolutely no clue what bus to take or where to find it. The bus station here is made up of berths on a couple of off-street lanes for local buses, and one of the city streets where the inter-city buses board. It’s right next to the train station, which just adds to the confusion, and it must have taken at least twenty minutes to figure out where the airport shuttle stops, and by that time we had just missed one and didn’t know when the next would arrive. Switching to plan (B), we jumped into the taxi queue, and after another ten minutes or so were speeding along to the airport, arriving about 25 minutes late for the flight. Lucky for us, Air France was also about 20 minutes late, so that hadn’t even made it out of the baggage claim yet. Whew! Note to myself: The airport shuttle isn’t worth the hassle of finding it. For about €15.00 (about seven € more), one can get there without running across town and getting all stressed out about being in the right place at whatever moment the bus is supposed to go by.

Anyhow… we captured our friends, took a cab back to the apartment, dropped off their stuff, and set out for a short city tour and some food. Had another great dinner at the Fox and Rooster (can’t think of the Italian name at the moment), stopped afterward for the nightly gelato, and then off to bed. If you can imagine two people being cramped in the munchkins’ apartment, try to imagine FOUR. Fortunately, Donna and Rick are easy to be around, and, most importantly, aren’t very BIG. It appears (because we just tried it this very moment) that Donna might actually graze her head on the beams in the kitchen, but only the guys have to worry about the doorways. Va bene.

Yesterday, we ended up heading back up to the Piazzle Michelangelo and to the San Miniato chapel. I’ve covered those before in these blogs so I won’t repeat myself, but we had a great time. Lunch was a round of appetizers at a patio café we had been wanting to try and hadn’t had the chance to yet, and dinner was at the Osteria de Pozze, where we had the CAPA welcome dinner, and the food was simple but amazing. I had spaghetti with a terrific spicy marinara sauce; Donna got a chicken breast that was stuffed with zucchini, red peppers, and Parmesan, and Rick’s pasta with pesto sauce was the best I’ve tasted anywhere. Top that off with a liter of the house wine, and it was perfect… right up until we went out for gelato to finish the evening. Yum.

Now we’re off to catch up with Harry, so… ciao!

-Leanne

Back at the Laundromat

2005-09-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

This time, I’m waiting for towels to dry. I’ve gotten the hang of doing laundry at home, finally—mostly, I’ve just got to stay on top of things, since it takes a couple of hours to wash a small load (the washers here are microscopic compared to what we’re used to at home), and then it’s several more hours—or a day, depending on what it is—to hang dry. Still, it sure beats paying a fortune to do it outside the house. Today is kind of an unusual circumstance; Rick and Donna will be arriving in a couple of hours, and I’m out of clean towels, so… eventually, I’ll learn to plan ahead for these things.

Other than the odd complication, though, it seems like life has settled into a comfortable routine. I guess that’s how it works—you experience brief culture shock while the adjustments you have to make sink in. Then, as you knock the obstacles down one by one, you get more comfortable and everything stops feeling so weird. Once I get home, I’ll probably go through it all over again. But for now, I’ve figured out how to order in a café, get my super-duper blister protection from the Pharmacia, get my watch fixed (I kinda smashed the crystal against a building) at the orologia, get around on the autobus, and generally handle the stuff of daily life. It’s somewhat empowering to realize that I can do almost anything an Italian grade-schooler can do!

Went to Fiesole on Thursday, and saw the Etruscan/Roman ruins there. They’ve got an archeological site there where they starting finding remains of these ancient cultures way ban in the early 1900s. After private citizens completed some test digs, the site was acquired by the community of Fiesole, and a larger-scale excavation was undertaken. What they found must have been astonishing at the time: a sizable Roman bath, a temple that went back to Etruscan (200-400 B.C.E.) times, and a well-preserved Roman amphitheatre. It’s hard for me to get my mind around sometimes—these structures I’m looking at were built thousands of years ago by people whose lives, like my own, were just a short blip on the planet’s timeline. It also makes me wonder whether my generation—with our histories recorded on paper and increasingly in electrical impulses—will leave any legacy besides a depleted ozone layer and millions of used CRTs. Let’s hope there remains something a little more noble in our wake.

Friday (yesterday—I’m always about a day behind in these notes), we finally got to that hike on Mount Ceceri. Reading the CAPA flyer, one might have expected a bit of a nature walk… but that’s before you realize that your guide is Lorenzo the Mountain Man, and he’s up on these trails all the time. Whew! We stood around and watched Lorenzo’s dog, Spiga, chase sticks as gathered the troops at the bus stop just before the main village at Fiesole. Setting off initially to the west, the trail made a couple of long, steep switchbacks up the hill until we came to a couple of caves which were actually quarries for the grey stone used in the main buildings here in Florence. We explored those for a few moments, got in touch with a small party who had gotten separated and were by now on a different trail (cell phones are a wonderful thing), and then ascended to the summit, which lay at about 1300 feet—a 1000-foot climb in just over a mile. The views were spectacular. It is said that Da Vinci sent his assistant off this very same summit to test a pair of wings designed by the master. The unfortunate gent was supposed to have crashed into the valley below, so we didn’t make any attempts of our own. Instead, we descended on foot into Fiesole, took another steep side trip to see the abbey just above the archeological area, and then invaded a local restaurant for pizza and wine. According to my GPS, the total distance was somewhere around six miles, so my feet earned their blisters that day. Coming home from Fiesole, we took the bus the entire distance instead of walking from the Piazza San Marco (another mile or so on foot—we usually just hoof it) and collapsed for a nap. I can’t say I remember what we did Friday night other than a trip to the grocery store, but I don’t suspect it was much after all that.

Okay… enough for one post. More later.

Ciao,
Leanne

Motoring along...

2005-09-15T14:07:00.000-07:00

Current location: a bus headed to Fiesole.

The Forte Belvedere walk was fun. We met near the apartment, walked up a STEEP road to the forte, and enjoyed a nice sunset overlooking the city. The outdoor display was made up of Folon sculptures. According to our guides, Vittoria and Laura, Folon is a Belgian with connections to the city of Florence. He’s a 20th century contemporary sculptor/painter, and many of his paintings are on display at another galleria in the city center. After a brief tour (we’ll go back some other time for a longer visit), we had a glass of wine with Vittoria, Laura, and Judith, and chatted about world events. It’s always interesting to see how our own political scene is viewed from abroad—and the surroundings completed the lovely evening.

We eventually descended and bid goodbye to our hosts. After letting a few students into the apartment to reclaim some bags they’d stashed there, we made one last trip out for the nightly gelato. The feet were tired, but other than a coupe of small blisters they seem to be doing okay.

By the way, here’s a few candid shots of the CAPA staff. Pictured here is Lorenzo, our logistics man and hiking guide.

Pictured here are Laura (left) and Vittoria (right), our all-around patient and friendly hosts.

This last picture is Ilaryia, who directs the Florence center.

Today’s trip is to see the Roman/Etruscan ruins that date back to about the 200 B.C.E. Tomorrow we’re supposed to do that hike that got rained out last week over Fiesole, but we wanted a closer look at the archeological sites. The bus we’re on is much like buses everywhere; a variety of people inhabit it with us—including some loud Italian students sitting across from us—and it’s pretty crowded. But we’re getting a really cool view of the city from the hills above. Maybe I’ll stop writing and check it out…

By the way, I've updated the pictures on the website. If you'd like to see them, check out www.leannepowers.com/florence.html.

Ciao ‘till tomorrow,
Leanne

The top of the world

2005-09-14T02:48:00.000-07:00

Well, we found that cache last night. It was great! To get there, we had to walk up a stairway (which was actually more of a steep road made of rocks) toward the Piazzle Michelangelo and the Basilica at San Miniato. The cache was hidden in a wall in a spot with a really nice view, but higher elevations beckoned. So, after dropping off a travel bug and signing the log, we continued up the road, which left us in a very nice (and obviously expensive) residential neighborhood. Farther up, we came to and crossed the viale Galileo Galilei (dodging speeding cars in both directions), and ended up at the stairs of the San Miniato al Monte. Ascending the stairs to the top, we were greeted with an unforgettable view of the city, just as the sun was setting. My only regret was leaving the camera back in the apartment (who knew where that road would lead?), but that just means that—oh darn—we’ll have to go again. The construction on this particular church began in 1018, and much of it was completed over the 12th and 13th centuries. A bell tower—constructed but never put to use as intended—was added in 1518 to replace an older one that collapsed in 1499.

After the hike, we walked back across the Arno to find a pay phone. A call to the back revealed that the problem wasn’t on their end—some ATMs just don’t process international transactions. So after trying a few more ATMs… success! Il molto bene!

This morning, I’m at the CAPA office checking e-mail and getting some work done on a couple of websites. A trip to the British Institute is on the agenda for later this afternoon, which will be great since it’s supposed to have very good research resources. Tonight, Vittoria and Laura will be leading a walk through the sculptures at Folon and the Forte Belvedere. The fortress was apparently designed in 1590 by Bernardo Buontalenti to guard the city from attacks by political rivals. Soon, it became a private refuge for the Medici grand dukes. Figures… seems like those aristocratic folks always spoil everything.

‘Till tomorrow…
-Leanne

On the road again...

2005-09-13T18:00:00.000-07:00

Well, on our feet, anyway. Today was a walking day, and we got quite a bit of it in. Started by heading east along the Arno until we got to ponte San Niccolo, then across the bridge and north to viale Duca d’Albruzzi. West again, past the University of Florence, over toward the CAPA offices for a noon meeting. After chatting with everyone there a while, we headed southwest to piazza Santo Spirito for lunch with Judith. Then, back up to the Duomo (got a little off-track there), and then back to the apartment. Maybe 4-1/2 to five miles total. Looks like those toes of mine are getting tougher—I survived the trip with no new blisters, and no worsening of the existing one.

Over at CAPA we told Lorenzo that we’d prefer to just stay put. He was actually really nice about it, given the fact we dragged him out for about an hour and a half yesterday when he could have been doing something more productive. I’ll have to see if I can make him some cookies or something as a thank-you. Wonder if I can turn on the oven here without burning down the building?

I waylaid a few dogs today with scratches, and didn’t seem to annoy their owners any. I think I may have mentioned that the Florentines love dogs, and we see them everywhere—on the sidewalks, in cafes, and even in the markets. Today’s pooches were especially cool; one was a little terrier-type guy who seemed surprised I would pay attention to him, another was a very pretty yellow lab, and a third was an unspeakably cute black-and-white Springer puppy. It’s no substitute for being with my own kids, of course, but it’s nice to be able to get a little bit of a fix from time to time.

Seems the ATM card has gone on the fritz (I just love how banks put these “fraud alerts” on your ATM card at exactly the most inconvenient of times, even though you called them ahead of time to let them know you’d be using it overseas), so that may require a couple of phone calls back home to see what can be done about it. Meanwhile, I may run up the road and see if I can take another stab at a nearby geocache (geocaching is sort of a worldwide treasure hunt for geeks; see www.geocaching.com if you’re curious about it) before it gets too dark. Until tomorrow, then…

Ciao!
-Leanne

Aha... I found it!

2005-09-12T23:36:00.000-07:00

Success! I’ve managed to get my hands on a saxophone!

I don’t think I mentioned this before. It seems that it’s getting harder and harder to fly with musical instruments, and upon arriving at LAX, I learned that I had the choice of checking the tenor sax I’d brought (and paying for an extra, non-insurable bag that they'd probably mutilate), or going without it. Fortunately my parents had remained nearby just in case this happened, so they came back and relieved me of the horn, and I crossed the Atlantic horn-less. It was certainly better than having the thing destroyed by Air France, but I was still pretty bummed at the thought of what three months of no playing could do to my already-suffering (28 units in six months cuts WAY down on practice time) chops. But Lorenzo, one of our friends at CAPA, knew of a music store very close to our apartment, and lo and behold… they happened to have a tenor I could rent for the duration of my stay! It’s a Maxtone--another of those ubiquitous Taiwanese labels that used to be awful and have gotten marginally better over the last five or six years--but it will give me something to play scales on. And I grabbed my mouthpiece out of the case before I left, so I’ve at least got a decent setup to hobble along with on this horn.

Last night we had dinner at Judith’s house, and we all went out for the nightly gelato afterward. As we walked toward the Ponte Vecchio, we noticed it was all lit up in a rainbow of color. Turns out that they were holding a commemoration of September 11th--kind of a show of solidarity against terrorism. One thing you notice right off the bat is that Italians (and perhaps this is true of most Europeans) seem to have more of a sense of themselves as being part of a global community than we do at home. They’re also very aware--and sympathetic--about the disaster in New Orleans, so it’s pretty clear we’re among friends here. It’s a perspective I’m going to try to bring home with me.

Today we looked at a couple of apartments that we could move to, but although both were larger and configured more conveniently, neither will be available until October 1st. That throws us into a bit of a quandary, since we’re likely to be that much more settled in where we are, so it’s looking like we’re probably going to stay. Also, given the benefits of our current digs (better location, very quiet, it’s cute, and the landlord seems nice), we’re getting more or less ambivalent about the need to move. Could be that this was part of Lorenzo’s strategy to let us adjust to the surroundings a bit and realize it isn't all THAT bad, but if that’s the case, well… it worked.

Getting back to music, though... tonight we saw the Orchestra da Camera Fiorentina (Florentine Chamber Orchestra) at the Orsanmichele, which is a beautiful chapel in the middle of town. First, they premiered a piece by Porro. Then they featured a wonderful cellist on Tchiakovsky’s Nocturne Op. 19 for cello and orchestra, and Boccherini’s Concerto for Cello and Orchestra (I think it was in C minor). Finally, the full chamber orchestra played Mozart’s Symphony Number 30 in B major. The cellist was Umberto Clerini—I’d never heard of him before, but he was excellent and got even better as he played. And the chapel was an incredible place to hear a group like this—fantastic art, and surprisingly wonderful (given the age of the place) acoustics. I’m really glad we sprung for the tickets.

So... that’s about all for today. Hope all is well with anyone who’s actually taking the time to read this, and I promise to add more pictures tomorrow or Wednesday.

Cheers, Leanne

Doing Laundry

2005-09-11T12:34:00.000-07:00

So here I sit at the laundromat… waiting for clothes to dry. So many of the simple things we take for granted turn out to be a little more complicated here.

Actually, one thing that really sucks is that it’s costing €15.00 to do what amounts to about two and a half loads of laundry. We do have a tiny washer in the apartment, but the weather has been kind of unpredictable as of late, so we haven’t been anxious to hang clothes outside to dry and have them get rained on. Ugh.

One of the other things that I’ve been taking for granted at home is a hot shower. Here, it’s more like: wait for the water to warm up, get wet, turn off the water, soap up and apply shampoo, rinse (by this time the water is getting quite brisk), and jump out as fast as possible to dry off. It’s tolerable right now, but it’s going to totally suck come November, since it’s against the law for the landlord to turn on the heat until November 15th. I think this is another of those things that falls under the heading of “character building,” so I’m going to mention it here by way of sharing the information, and I’m not going to say another word about it, except to curse quietly as I shiver in front of the bedroom sink. Brr!

My mom asked what it’s “like” here, so I guess I should try and find a few generalities with which to express this experience. For starters, the people here in Italy are pretty much like people everywhere. Most are friendly, some aren’t. There are a lot of tourists around, and they’re from all over the world. There are a lot of American students. Yesterday, we ran into some architecture students from the University of Boston who are here for a four-month stay. There are a lot of American tourists, too—you can usually spot them a mile away.

The Italians we interact with are usually the folks who work the counters at the cafes and tabacchi shops (that’s where you get international phone cards and bus tickets). They don’t always speak English, but seem to understand my patois of English and Italian, and I’m picking up enough Italian vocabulary to catch the gist of what’s being said to me. At any rate, I’ve been able to order in restaurants, find local points of interest, and find my way around with a minimum of difficulty, so I’d say things are working well enough.

Just put another token in the dryer (now we’re up to €18.00), so I’ve got a few more moments to ramble. For some reason, it seems odd that we’ve been here a week and have only seen one concert (the Philharmonia di Rossini last night), and have only been on one significant sightseeing hike. We’ve been doing a lot of walking around as part of our daily existence, but it hasn’t been the go-go-go pace I had expected, and to a certain extent I’m starting to get the itch to hop on a plane. I might have to check out the Ryanair website and see what’s cheap over the next couple of weeks.

Oh, and speaking of walking around, here’s a toe update: the right little toe is doing better, but now the left little toe has a blister. It’s small, but it smarts, and switching to sandals isn’t helping this time. I may have to see if I can find a pair of backup shoes to wear when this happens, I think. Like I said, walking is part of our daily existence; it’s close to a half-mile to Standa (the grocery store), about the same distance to the capa offices, maybe a quarter mile to the place where we’ve been in the habit of grabbing breakfast or lunch, and about the same to the closest internet café, which is where I end up when the CAPA offices are closed or when I lack the patience for their slow connection. It doesn’t seem like much, but it adds up when you do it several times a day. Needless to say, I’m hoping my toes can toughen up enough to handle it all without blistering like they have been. We’ll see what happens.

Looks like my laundry is about done, so I’m going to take it home and find something fun to do. Until then…

Arrivederci!
-Leanne

End of the first week....

2005-09-10T14:34:00.000-07:00

Went for a walk today, up the steps to the Piazzale Michelangelo. The view was spectacular, and it was one of those gorgeous days with scattered clouds in the sky, making it all the more pleasant to be out there. The only annoying thing about it was that when we arrived at the top, we were greeted by several hundred tourists who had arrived by bus, and a number of those tacky souvenier stands at the top of the Piazzale. It was sort of like, huh... where the heck did all THESE people come from?

At the request of my mother, I’m posting a couple of pictures of the smallest apartment in the world. Here’s two: one of the front door, and the other of the infamous bathroom. You can’t really get an idea of the size from these pictures, but I don’t have enough space to really capture that without a wide-angle lens, which I don’t have. I'm also trying not to get too attached, since the folks at CAPA are trying to find us different digs. Monday, perhaps, we'll have an idea whether we're going to stay put where we are, or move someplace else. My only requirement is that whatever new place we get has a toilet and a shower in their own respective locations, and that hot water lasts for more than about 45 seconds in the shower. I don't think I ask all THAT much, after all.

After lunch and a nap, we went out again in search of an organ concert that was supposed to take place at 9:00. We never found the venue, but a troop of schoolkids playing drums led us to the steps of the Uffizi, where a community concert ensemble was playing. Now, as the veteran of a number of community concert bands, I was immediately prepared to run for cover. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that this was a VERY good ensemble as community groups go, and their literature--although definitely in the "pop" vein, was quite good. So we ended up spending the evening in the open air at the Piazza Signorina, eating gelatos and listening to their take on a few American pop and film tunes. Not bad.

I do have to sneak in a couple of words about the fauna here. First, there's bats all over the place, but especially under the bridge across the Arno. I want to take pictures of them, but I've found it's nearly impossible to track a bat through a camera lens. I tried to catch one by simply pointing the camera at it, arms outstretched, but that just got me a blurry picture of something that looks something like a bat... I just can't get the thing in focus. So I'm thinking about trying to get my hands on a motion detector that I can wire up to an electronic shutter release cable. If I can do that, then I can put the camera in focus at whatever that distance is, and fire away. Hmm. Where's a Fry's when you need one?

Other fauna: went geocaching today and while moving a rock aside, stumbled across a scorpion. Ack! I didn't realize they had THOSE things here? Also heard from Judith that they have nutria here (nutria are those critters that look like big sewer rats... the ones that used to eat the levees in New Orleans), and I'm pretty sure I saw one tonight. Looked like a big sewer rat, swimming along in the Arno. I'm also seeing dogs of every shape and size, which is making me miss my own beasties. Sigh. Not much to do about that except keep writing Deb and bugging her for pictures By the way, I heard the dogs are her headphones the other day... leave it to them to choose now to start chewing things again. :-(

Well, that's enough rambling thoughts for tonight. I'll leave with this picture, taken from the front door (the street door, that is) of our apartment. It's a really pretty street on a misty night.

Ciao!
-Leanne

Drizzlies!

2005-09-09T03:02:00.000-07:00

Here I sit, typing away…

At the moment, however, it’s not as torturous as it might seem. Today was the day we were supposed to go hiking, but after dinner last night (more on that in a moment), I just couldn’t force myself to keep working, so I was obliged to stay home and do it today. Harry went, though, and since they were meeting someplace this morning that was a bus ride away, I decided to walk him to the bus stop and grab a bit of breakfast at the same time, figuring it would be a good chance to get out. The bus stop was near the Duomo--roughly about eight or nine blocks away.

Interestingly enough, when you don’t know your way around, one picturesque street begins to look very much like every other. And one thing you don’t always learn when you grow up in Southern California is that navigating unfamiliar streets is far more difficult from under an umbrella. The umbrella, of course, was necessitated by the thunderstorm that broke, literally, the moment I left the bus stop. Probably the heaviest rain since we’ve been here, and I get lost. Argh.

I finally found my way back to the Arno, but by that time I was several blocks downriver from where I should have been, and over the walk back I had plenty of time to get thoroughly drenched. I’m not complaining, mind you--being lost in one of the world’s most beautiful cities is still pleasant, even when it’s pouring, but it certainly wasn’t something I was prepared for. Anyhow, I’m home now, and finding that listening to the thunder and the rain drumming on the roof isn’t bad, even if I have to be sitting here working.

Last night we had a welcome dinner put on by the CAPA staff, and it was easily the best meal I’ve had since I arrived in Italy. Innumerable courses of appetizers, glass after glass of really great wine, two pasta dishes as main courses (which I hardly had room for by that point), and an excellent tiramisu to finish things off. I felt as though I might explode by the time we left the restaurant. The students on this trip really seem to be a neat group, and we had a lot of fun chatting and taking pictures. One group of girls is headed to Munich for Oktoberfest at the end of this month, and if a class trip doesn’t get moved to that date it might be fun to join them. We’ll see how the schedule shapes up.

I best get back to work, but I’ll post again if anything interesting happens. By the way, I've been posting new pictures on the photography section of my website. To see them, go to www.leannepowers.com/florence.html .

Ciao!
-Leane

Another day, another round of database work...

2005-09-08T10:08:00.000-07:00

Not a whole lot happening today--I'm just doing my best to get a Posey job wrapped up so I can go play with a clear conscience. I ended up dozing off last night at around 11:00pm and sleeping until almost 11:00am, which seems to be a sign that I’m a little more jet-lagged than I thought. Hopefully, I’ll be more caught up on sleep so I can start feeling normal again.

Tomorrow will be another walking day. Lorenzo (one of the staff from CAPA, the Centers for Academic Programs Abroad), will be leading a hike on Mount Ceceri, which is southeast of Fiesole. Here we’ll see the ancient quarries of pietra serena (grey stone) used to build many of the palaces and monuments here in Florence. I’m hoping that my blister will have healed itself by then, since I’m not about to stay in just to nurse my little toe back to health. Since we don’t have a car every day involves some amount of walking, either to the market (and we’re now proud owners of a Standa membership card!), or just out for a stroll, but the distances vary with what’s going on and how energetic we feel. Sometimes a mile or two, sometimes more.

We’ve had rain nearly every day, which is probably typical for this time of year. Usually just a sprinkle, and today I didn’t even bother with an umbrella, but yesterday morning it came down in bucketfuls. Thank heavens I got my hair cut short before I left. Temperatures are warm right now--somewhere in the high seventies, I’d guess--and I’m making god use of my summer clothes, walking around in t-shirts, tank tops, and sandals. It’ll get cooler eventually, I’m sure, and I’ve been warned that Amsterdam will be chilly when we get there in November. Sounds good to me.

Okay, back to work. Hi to everyone at home.

-Leanne

Settling in

2005-08-28T08:17:00.000-07:00

Well, we're here. Survived the journey intact, and are now settling into a TINY one-bedroom apartment in Florence, Italy.

How tiny, you ask? Well, I'm 5'6" and not used to having to duck under doorways and the ceiling. I've smacked my head not once, but TWICE on the ceiling. This morning, I nailed it hard enough that I saw stars. Also, there's a toilet in the shower. Or, perhaps, there's a shower head over the john. Either way, it's weird. Could be efficient, I suppose, but I'm never so pressed for time that I feel the need to shower as I, um... relieve myself. Sixty-eight steps (yes, I counted them) separate the apartment's front door from the street, so my workout routine has been resumed, pretty much from the get-go.

Accomodations nonwithstanding, however, Florence is really, really cool. Home is about a block away from the Arno river, and about two blocks away from the heart of the city. The Duomo is just about a ten-minute walk, and there are museums right across the river. So much to see... and I've brought enough work to keep me busy the whole three months (sigh).

I'm missing the dogs, for sure, though I know they're in good hands with Deborah. There's enough people walking dogs all over the city that I can pet one from time to time, but it's not the same as being with my own kids. Still, I'll survive--even if not as well as they will. :-)

Took a few pictures while on a group orientation yesterday. I've posted some thumbnails here; I'll add the rest to the "Photography" area of my site tomorrow. There's plenty to take pictures of, so that'll take some work to keep up with. Seems like my camera will have a lot to do.

The students all seem nice, and many have a fair bit of travel experience. The food is good, though I can't say I've had any spectacular meals yet--probably because I've been eating mostly sandwiches and my own cooking. Still, it's a good opportunity to eat more healthy, since I don't have access to my usual chocolate chip muffin each morning. That's been replaced by a banana and bread, or a tomato-and-cheese sandwich. Different, but not bad.

Best get back to work now. Will write more later, as long as I don't give myself a concussion on the ceiling.

-Leanne