thoughts on italy

I’m baaack!

It’s been a week since I returned from Italy in a day and some’s worth of plane travel. I may be caught up, at least in chores and errands, anyway. Not sure about the brain. It always lags. We went through a time change in Italy, then we flew through many time changes, stayed over a few hours in Chicago, and then more time changes to reach Oregon, and then another time change a few days after my return, so who knows where my brain really is right now. Getting back to adult responsibilities took some doing after ten days of sitting looking, standing looking and walking looking.

My stepdaughter, Kathy, and I visited Rome, Florence, and Venice, with smaller towns and villages in between, such as Pienza, San Gimigano, Siena (the Fortress), Verona, Murano, and Burano. We tasted cheeses and gelato, and drank wine everywhere, every day. We saw Romeo’s family home and Juliet’s supposed home and balcony made expressly for tourists. We learned what each of these places produced to great acclaim, whether cheese, gelato, saffron, glassware, or lace. We learned about the horserace put on by the Contradas of Siena, The Palio.

I’m so glad I was a 78-year-old’s fit before I left because we were thrown right into a 40-year-old’s fitness regime. Or maybe 35. I feel as though I’ve trained for the Olympics and I’m finally ready. Thank goodness I’m determined. We walked from about 9 a.m. through about 10 at night because walking is the only way to get about in the places we went, old villages, old historic sites comprised of narrow cobblestone streets, or walkways of pitted, divoted stone, and many, many stairs up and down, without handrails. Never any accommodation for handicaps whatsoever, because let’s face it, people when these places were built rarely lived past their 30’s or 40’s when infirmities begin to set in. I saw one wheelchair ramp and handrails when I was at the Vatican and that was it—the Pope needs it. There were ramps along the waterfront at St. Mark’s Square and that was for the many tourists who must wheel their own suitcases to the place where they are staying for the duration. Because of that, I recommend you visit the Big Three—Rome, Florence, and Venice—when you are young and fit, even if you must take out a loan to do it, because it’s a slog when you are elderly and not a fan of pain. There aren’t a lot of bathrooms around, either, and most public ones are pay-only, so if you are one of those who need to use the bathroom frequently, finding one can be difficult. Again, when you’re younger, you can hold it longer. We learned the trick of finding a coffee café or a gelateria and then after ordering asking to use the bathroom.

One of our hotels was very nice and Kathy and I had our own bathrooms which facilitated getting ready quicker. Also, we had instant coffee in the room. Our mattresses were comfortable as well. None of those things was present in our following hotels. In the second one, we had to lug our own suitcases up and down the stairs because the elevator was so small it couldn’t have held me and the suitcase together. I knew this might happen, having traveled in Europe several times before, so I took a smaller suitcase and re-wore my clothing a couple of times. In order to bring anything back, though, I had to buy a small carry-on to accommodate my purchases.  The bed in this hotel was what my former brother-in-law calls a “Chevy Bed.” Like a rock. Our third beds were a modicum softer, but not a lot.

I learned I liked a chocolate candy called “nocciola foyaten gourmet.” It’s hazelnuts covered with chocolate, a bit like those big shiny gold-covered balls by Ferraro Rocher that I used to give my mother for Christmas. Kathy bought some and shared a couple with me. Yum!

While our hotels did not have their own restaurants, they did have amazing breakfasts with many, many options. In particular, besides eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, there were charcuteries, pancakes, and a wide variety of cakes and sweetbreads. There were fruits and fruit juices as well, and lots of coffee options. I think cake should be available at every breakfast, don’t  you? My favorite was a chocolate-lemon bread.

Of all the cathedrals we visited, my favorites were the St. Maria del Fiore Basilica in Florence, the 4^th largest cathedral in the world, and St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice.  All the architects, Cambio, Ghiberti, Giotto and Brunelleschi, who designed and built St. Maria del Fiore Basilica, the dome, the tower, and the Baptistery were geniuses in my estimation. We saw only the outside but that was astounding, amazing and beautiful with its pink and green marble, in and of itself. The reason I loved St. Mark’s was because of the golden mosaic work made and re-made over 800 years by Medieval and Renaissance artists. I could have spent a LOT longer inside looking closely at all the mosaics, religious scenes created in gold-ground smalti. 

I also liked the mausoleum/fortress/Pope’s residence/prison called “Castel Sant’Angelo,” or “Mausoleum of Hadrian.” This combo building has an interesting shape due to how it morphed from one thing to another. For one thing, it is round, because Hadrian admired Alexander the Great’s mausoleum so built his in the same way. The builders used every modern technique known at that time, such as how to let light enter and how to drain moisture. When one enters, there is a long, corkscrew road-sized, cobblestone path to follow and climb in a circular pattern until one reaches the crypt where the bodies and urns and whatever rested, none of which are there today. In 401 A.D., the building was converted into a fortress and came under attack numerous times. The second level reflects this change. In 590 A.D., the plague visited Rome, and as it was dissipating, The Archangel Michael appeared on top of the building, so Pope Gregory renamed the building “Castel Sant’Angelo.” Now there’s a beautiful angel statue standing where the archangel was seen.

In the 14^th century, the Popes converted the castle into a castle, and their efforts make up the third level and remaining levels. The Castel was intended as a place for the Pope to hide out if the Vatican were attacked. There’s a direct elevated passageway that leads from Vatican City to the Castel. Many famous Italians were imprisoned within the walls and executions performed. Nowadays the whole building is a museum. The artifacts reflect the times. On view was the contraption used to get water way up there in the living quarters. On the way up to the top, one can walk around a circular patio of sorts, where part of it is trellised greenery, and there are arches as viewing points. Up top, after climbing five floors, one can see the entirety of Rome, at least the old Rome, and it’s a beautiful sight, indeed! Another statue stands there as well. This huge, round, sturdy building is so different from the other buildings in Rome that one feels it will be there for another great, long time, like a plump grandmother surrounded by delicate bathing beauties. I simply liked looking at it and walking through it, not to mention looking down from the top of it.

Another building that was so interesting to me was the Doge’s Palace in Venice, mostly because it had figured in a novel by Phillippa Gregory and I wanted to see the prisons inside that had been described so well. For the same reason I enjoyed our trip out to Murano, the glass-blowing island, and Burano, the lace-making island, and hearing the narration about the islands along the way, because all of those featured in two other novels I had read. When I read about a place as the setting of a novel, it always inspires me to travel to see it for myself. 

Not many of us enjoyed the gondola rides. The gondoliers we had were rude, non-communicative, and spoke derisively about their passengers to each other. The canals stunk like rot and sewage. Slimy mold clung to the walls of the buildings above the water. We did get to see a variety of back yards and a couple of gardens but as usual, the backsides of things are not very pretty. The ride was short. I hated getting in and out of anything on the water because there were no handrails. Sometimes, the water men would help haul me up. People got sick by the end of our trip and felt they had caught something on the gondola ride. Imagine how dirty and germ-laden these must be by the end of a day.

Our guide, Ilaria, was perfect, everything you want a guide to be, and the city guides were vastly knowledgeable and precise with their English. Ilaria taught us how to use “alora,” a filler word like our word, “well,” which helps the speaker gather thoughts before going on. We also learned “si,” “molto bene,” and “bellisimo/ma.” Of course, we also used “per favore,” and “prego” and the word “bagni?” Italians also say, “Hmm” in the same way the French use, “n’est-ce pas?” After awhile, everyone would repeat “Hmm” after Ilaria said it.

One fun time we had with Ilaria and a guide was coming back from the islands in Venice when Dory, one of our group, asked them the sounds animals make, like “What does a cow say? What does a chicken say?” Everybody practiced what everybody else says, and it was hilarious. Ilaria made everyone laugh when she tried to say, “Cockle-doodle-do!” And we practiced saying, “Chicchirichi.” Since some of us knew French, we said all those words as well. It was a cosmopolitan comedy spot, for sure. These fun and bonding times are the reason it’s good to travel.

These are the thoughts that have surfaced since my return so far. There may be more as my memories are sparked in the coming days. If I think of anything worth repeating, I will write more. What I can definitely say now, however, is that if you are wondering if you should visit Italy or not, the answer is a resounding YES! The sooner, the better! I was in two tiny parts of it, in the Alps, and in Ventimiglia, when I studied in Nice, France, in 1995, and I’m so glad I finally was able to go back for more.

P.S. You can find all my photos on my Facebook account: Karen Keltz