Friday, May 1, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Ok, so maybe THIS is the last post...
Wasn't expecting to get to the web again, but the Fiumacino hotel, in the small seasice town near Rome airport were we decided to spend our last night has it in spades.
Yesterday finished with a stroll back into Reggio, looking once again for a restaurant - we finally found one. It looked quiet-as, but once inside we were led in to the cellar, and it was jumpin'! They eat under ground! We'd been seeing lots of people and lots of cafes, but no resturants... wierd, but now we know. The cellar was medieval updated - lots of cool brickwork across the roof - and as usual the pizzas were great. We ended this time with profiteroles (yum!).
After a mornign of futzing around packing, we bade a tearful goodbye to Mik, who was about to imerse herself in her conference - 400 early childhood educators all bangin' on about the Reggio approach. The hotel was full of Aussies, kinda wierd!
We jumped in the car, programmed Kowalski for Rome and set off. It was about 470km of Autostrada driving. You get a ticket as you enter the freeway, then pay the requisite amount when you get off - about A$50 in our case. They're not too bad as freeways go - usually three, sometimes two and occationally four lanes wide (at least between Reggio and Roma on the A1, which is the main Milano-Naples Autostrada). There's a bunch of little Fiat Puntos in the right lane doing 90kmh, a bunch of Audis and Mercs in the left land doing 150 - and us somewhere inbetween doing something approaching the speedlimit - 130kmh. And no trucks. I guess that's the advantage to driving on a Sunday.
But it rained. And rained - probably for about 350 of the 470km - and that kinda ramps up the angst a bit. Still, we got here in the end. I dunno what I would have done without the GPS - and the kids who kept me fed and entertained for the duration. We did stop off at an "Autogrill" fuel and food spot, wehre I found Deep Purple's Greatest Hits - the education continues.
We got to our hotel, checked in, de-stunk the room, watched Asterix and Cleopatra (in Italian) then went for our last Italian pizza. Nice! The kids reckon this one was equal first - though Sasha still prefres the chip pizza from Venice!!
Now it's final packing and on to the plane for two ~10 hour flights - oh, and 12 hours in Hong Kong in between.
Ciao again.
Yesterday finished with a stroll back into Reggio, looking once again for a restaurant - we finally found one. It looked quiet-as, but once inside we were led in to the cellar, and it was jumpin'! They eat under ground! We'd been seeing lots of people and lots of cafes, but no resturants... wierd, but now we know. The cellar was medieval updated - lots of cool brickwork across the roof - and as usual the pizzas were great. We ended this time with profiteroles (yum!).
After a mornign of futzing around packing, we bade a tearful goodbye to Mik, who was about to imerse herself in her conference - 400 early childhood educators all bangin' on about the Reggio approach. The hotel was full of Aussies, kinda wierd!
We jumped in the car, programmed Kowalski for Rome and set off. It was about 470km of Autostrada driving. You get a ticket as you enter the freeway, then pay the requisite amount when you get off - about A$50 in our case. They're not too bad as freeways go - usually three, sometimes two and occationally four lanes wide (at least between Reggio and Roma on the A1, which is the main Milano-Naples Autostrada). There's a bunch of little Fiat Puntos in the right lane doing 90kmh, a bunch of Audis and Mercs in the left land doing 150 - and us somewhere inbetween doing something approaching the speedlimit - 130kmh. And no trucks. I guess that's the advantage to driving on a Sunday.
But it rained. And rained - probably for about 350 of the 470km - and that kinda ramps up the angst a bit. Still, we got here in the end. I dunno what I would have done without the GPS - and the kids who kept me fed and entertained for the duration. We did stop off at an "Autogrill" fuel and food spot, wehre I found Deep Purple's Greatest Hits - the education continues.
We got to our hotel, checked in, de-stunk the room, watched Asterix and Cleopatra (in Italian) then went for our last Italian pizza. Nice! The kids reckon this one was equal first - though Sasha still prefres the chip pizza from Venice!!
Now it's final packing and on to the plane for two ~10 hour flights - oh, and 12 hours in Hong Kong in between.
Ciao again.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
It’s nearly over
We’ll look we did. The view was great, even when the weather closed in the next day. The glug closed in on me too – I got quite a heavy cold, and it was using a gps to get around my system, so a quiet day was called for. About all we really did (apart from some more shopping!!) was drive down the western side of Lake Garda – fascinating and breathtaking for a whole bunch of other reasons. You remember the cliffs I was waxing lyrical about in the last entry? Well, they fall straight into the water, so to get through them, you have to go through them. Tunnels. We did the James Bond thing (only in a lime green Fiat, and with no gun totin’ clowns in Alfas), before finally retiring to our villa for an early night.
Feeling much better the next morning, we decided to head for Reggio Emilia, where Mik’s conference is to be held. We programmed the GPS, whom we have named “Kowalski” – because there’s always a Kowalski. I have my reasons, which all my mtb buddies will instantly get, and the kids like the Kowalski character in the Madagascar films – a very talented penguin who is forever fixing things – hence the appropriate nature for our little savior on the windscreen. We popped past another castle at the bottom of the lake – there are pictures – then told Kowalski to ignore the toll roads and had a fascinatingly rural trip down to Reggio.
Checked in, and a bit of a wander around the old town, we for some reason couldn’t find a restaurant. Plenty of cafes, and the odd Chocolate Salon (ask Indi and Sash about the Reggio hot chocolate!!!) – before much to the children’s delight, returning to the hotel for room service, videos, internet and bed.
Next day, the last full touristic day, we asked Kowalski to find the Ferrari museum, and she obliged. All things red, with prancing horses, come from Maranello, and it’s a cracker! From really really really old Fiat precursors, right through a huge posse of F1 cars and the ‘consumer’ model right up to 2008, there’s some hardcore in that place! There were also a heap of engines (like 20) sitting alone, all alloy and carbon fiber – and of course a shop!
The adventure home took us to Modena, which was kinda busy with something we didn’t quite get, so we got Kowalski to take us back to Reggio, via an Itallian megacoop. That’s a huge supermarket. It’s always good to check the consumer goods – even if we’re not actually too sure what’s in the box.
We gathered some supplies, us for the 4hr road trip back to Rome tomorrow and Mik for the next week doing the conference thing. Four star hotels are all very well - till you want to eat, etc.
So this is probably it till we’re back. I’ll add a bunch more photos when I get my head around the thousand or so on my camera, not to mention the other couple thou on Mik, Indi and Sash’s. Then I’m sure you’ll get to see a slide show down the track if you’re so inclined.
Ciao!!
Feeling much better the next morning, we decided to head for Reggio Emilia, where Mik’s conference is to be held. We programmed the GPS, whom we have named “Kowalski” – because there’s always a Kowalski. I have my reasons, which all my mtb buddies will instantly get, and the kids like the Kowalski character in the Madagascar films – a very talented penguin who is forever fixing things – hence the appropriate nature for our little savior on the windscreen. We popped past another castle at the bottom of the lake – there are pictures – then told Kowalski to ignore the toll roads and had a fascinatingly rural trip down to Reggio.
Checked in, and a bit of a wander around the old town, we for some reason couldn’t find a restaurant. Plenty of cafes, and the odd Chocolate Salon (ask Indi and Sash about the Reggio hot chocolate!!!) – before much to the children’s delight, returning to the hotel for room service, videos, internet and bed.
Next day, the last full touristic day, we asked Kowalski to find the Ferrari museum, and she obliged. All things red, with prancing horses, come from Maranello, and it’s a cracker! From really really really old Fiat precursors, right through a huge posse of F1 cars and the ‘consumer’ model right up to 2008, there’s some hardcore in that place! There were also a heap of engines (like 20) sitting alone, all alloy and carbon fiber – and of course a shop!
The adventure home took us to Modena, which was kinda busy with something we didn’t quite get, so we got Kowalski to take us back to Reggio, via an Itallian megacoop. That’s a huge supermarket. It’s always good to check the consumer goods – even if we’re not actually too sure what’s in the box.
We gathered some supplies, us for the 4hr road trip back to Rome tomorrow and Mik for the next week doing the conference thing. Four star hotels are all very well - till you want to eat, etc.
So this is probably it till we’re back. I’ll add a bunch more photos when I get my head around the thousand or so on my camera, not to mention the other couple thou on Mik, Indi and Sash’s. Then I’m sure you’ll get to see a slide show down the track if you’re so inclined.
Ciao!!
Day 197. Weird men and sublime lakes.
After the afore mentioned killer hotel breakfast, and a frustrating morning first finding, then wrestling with the inhabitants of Bolzano’s laundormat (weird fat man who was very very helpful with better English than our Italian or German – but with the wrong kind of attention for the girls) – we finally shifted the behemoth of laundry that’s been backing up since Rome. A late check-out was tops, but Indi and I were still pressed to get around Oetzi – the iceman.
Some 5000 years ago a dude had a stouch on a glacier, ended up with an arrow in his back and died. Fast-forward 4980 years and he’s dug up. People are stunned by the state of the mummy and the materials found with him. Indi does like her mummies, so when we found that Oetzi was forming the core of an exhibition of 60 odd (very odd) mummified things at the Bolzano museum, well, it was rather a must-do. There were bog people, desert people, and every other kind of mummified thingy you can think of, but the star was our glacier boy. He lives in a fridge now, but all the gear, and reconstructions of all his stuff is on display to gawk over. It’s stunning the amount of info they gleaned from him. From his last meal to where he was likely born. When he died based on what pollen they found in his intestine, to how he died and speculation on what he was and did. Let me suggest you google him. It’s fascinating stuff.
All in all, though, we are getting a bit tired. We’d set a cracking pace, so we decided to can the idea of a sprint to the Mediterranean coast in favour of two nights in one rather beautiful place. Lake Garda was on the cards for a while ( Mik does rather like Daniel Craig’s James Bond – and when she found the opening scene in Casino Royal (the car chase) was shot in a Lake Garda tunnel, she was keen. Add that I’ve been reading about Lake Garda as a windsurfing destination for about 20 years and we didn’t need Eddie to lock it in. More Autostrada antics, then a quieter road deposited us at the head of this huge glacial lake. Some googling last night had a 3 star resort hotel targeted, found and now we’re installed on the second floor with a balcony overlooking the lake for a very nice price indeed (Easter marked the end of the spring school holidays, so it’s very quite – perfect!). There’s even a +1500 year old castle up the road for the kids to clamber all over.
Prosseco on the balcony as the sun set over the lake, and no-where to be for a few days now. Phew. What a relief. In fact it’s about the ideal place for me to shake this Venetian head-cold that I seem to have come away with.
We’ve looked at Roman culture, Etruscan, renaissance, and Venetian history – taken in the shopping and the food (the food!! – it’s true, magnificent, even at the tourist supermarkets) – listened to and watched the people – and now it’s time to sit back and stare at the huge glacier-cut walls on the far side of lake Garda as they change colour while sun sets behind them.
It’s time to just look at Italy.
Some 5000 years ago a dude had a stouch on a glacier, ended up with an arrow in his back and died. Fast-forward 4980 years and he’s dug up. People are stunned by the state of the mummy and the materials found with him. Indi does like her mummies, so when we found that Oetzi was forming the core of an exhibition of 60 odd (very odd) mummified things at the Bolzano museum, well, it was rather a must-do. There were bog people, desert people, and every other kind of mummified thingy you can think of, but the star was our glacier boy. He lives in a fridge now, but all the gear, and reconstructions of all his stuff is on display to gawk over. It’s stunning the amount of info they gleaned from him. From his last meal to where he was likely born. When he died based on what pollen they found in his intestine, to how he died and speculation on what he was and did. Let me suggest you google him. It’s fascinating stuff.
All in all, though, we are getting a bit tired. We’d set a cracking pace, so we decided to can the idea of a sprint to the Mediterranean coast in favour of two nights in one rather beautiful place. Lake Garda was on the cards for a while ( Mik does rather like Daniel Craig’s James Bond – and when she found the opening scene in Casino Royal (the car chase) was shot in a Lake Garda tunnel, she was keen. Add that I’ve been reading about Lake Garda as a windsurfing destination for about 20 years and we didn’t need Eddie to lock it in. More Autostrada antics, then a quieter road deposited us at the head of this huge glacial lake. Some googling last night had a 3 star resort hotel targeted, found and now we’re installed on the second floor with a balcony overlooking the lake for a very nice price indeed (Easter marked the end of the spring school holidays, so it’s very quite – perfect!). There’s even a +1500 year old castle up the road for the kids to clamber all over.
Prosseco on the balcony as the sun set over the lake, and no-where to be for a few days now. Phew. What a relief. In fact it’s about the ideal place for me to shake this Venetian head-cold that I seem to have come away with.
We’ve looked at Roman culture, Etruscan, renaissance, and Venetian history – taken in the shopping and the food (the food!! – it’s true, magnificent, even at the tourist supermarkets) – listened to and watched the people – and now it’s time to sit back and stare at the huge glacier-cut walls on the far side of lake Garda as they change colour while sun sets behind them.
It’s time to just look at Italy.
Leaving Venice, and climbing.
So that was Venice. The ride in the gondola, though expensive (A$160 for 40 minutes) was a great way to conclude the experience. We’d spent the day trippin’ across the lagoon to the small island of Burano, famous for its lace (meh) and colourfully painted buildings – kind of a mini Venice – and it was almost a spur-of-the-moment decision to jump in a gondola on our return. But we did, and it was great. I was a little reluctant to do the gondola thing from in front of St Mark’s, the busiest part of Venice (think queues of people 40 minutes long to get into the Basilica – we didn’t), but even around there the difference between the calles (streets) and the canals was chalk and cheese. You can hardly walk past the souvineer shops, but drifting under the bridges looking up at the rubbernecking tourists was almost sublime in its calmness. I knew then what all the people we’d been seeing in gondolas had been thinking as we’d stared down at them from bridges. “Ahhhh’, just about sums it up, though there’s likely a thought or two cast towards a time not so long ago, before the motorboat, when gondola was the only way to travel. Casanova, Marco Polo and Lord Byron weren’t so clueless afterall…
But the Vaperetto tickets were validated (bonk!) one more time as we travelled an encore length of the Grand Canal with our bags on our final morning. Cast once again into the world of the car, ours was lime green! I’d booked a Peugeot 407 wagon, “or equivalent” – and that’s what we got. A Fiat “Qubo” – kinda like a delivery van, passengerised. But neat in its own very Italian way. The boot is too small, and in a land of Audis and Mercs it screams TOURIST. But we slapped the gps on the windscreen and following its instructions we made it onto the Autostrada, heading north.
There’s always something a bit funny about driving in another country. Some are easy, like England and New Zealand. All you need to do is find the unwritten local rules and kinda stick to them. Add the wrong side of the road and things change a bit – then there’s changing manual gears (not for a while) with the wrong hand, and working out how to use the tollways (take a ticket when you get on, pay when you get off) or the automatic petrol stations. It’s all a bit of a learning curve – and 130kmh speed limits, no shoulders, Polish/Austrian/German/Belgian/etc trucks all colour the canvas as we travelled north over the Veneto flatlands.
But then a mountain heaves into view. Wow. Big. And another. And a tunnel, and suddenly we’re in a glacial valley with snowcapped peaks on each side, lakes to the right, hillside villages to the left – and poor old me, stuck with my eyes on the afore mentioned trucks and shoulders, etc. Soon enough, though, we were off the Autstrada and, having chosen a mid- Dolomites GPS destination, winding up some smaller roads, getting smaller by the minute.
You know the Tour de France? When they get to the mountain stages and the roads are narrow and tight, the hairpins numbered, the panorama spectacular? It don’t end at the border! Au contraire! The Dolomites are something to behold. The peaks are magnificent stone bluffs, thrusting hundreds of meters up out of what would be impressive mountains in their own right, but here just foothills, or entrée for the main event. And nestled among the green green fir trees, village after village of fairytale houses – we are within a yodel of Austria here, so much so that most of the signage is in both Italian and Austrian/German.
We stopped for lunch at random restaurant #987 – and it was great, despite neither they nor us sharing a common language – chips for the kids and antipasti with coffee for the grownups. Then off again, and suddenly we’re seeing skiers, not just beside the road, but next to us – above and below us, as we climb one of the major passes (that I think the Giro does in less than a month). Imagine if the Alpine Way climbed all the way up through Thredbo to the top, switch backing up the Supertrail. That’s exactly how it was, bar the thousand-foot cliff faces in every direction, then the 27 hairpins on the way back down into the valley on the other side.
Amazing.
If we’d not been stopping for a “Kodak moment” every 2km, we’d have probably made it into Bolzano sooner than we did – in fact we should probably have stopped in one of the postcard perfect ski towns for the night, instead of ending up in a too-expensive Best Western. At least they had parking and a nice view of Bolzano’s Gothic Cathedral. We were reamed over dinner too – but that’s just one of those things now.
Breakfast, on the other hand rocked. I had strudel.
But the Vaperetto tickets were validated (bonk!) one more time as we travelled an encore length of the Grand Canal with our bags on our final morning. Cast once again into the world of the car, ours was lime green! I’d booked a Peugeot 407 wagon, “or equivalent” – and that’s what we got. A Fiat “Qubo” – kinda like a delivery van, passengerised. But neat in its own very Italian way. The boot is too small, and in a land of Audis and Mercs it screams TOURIST. But we slapped the gps on the windscreen and following its instructions we made it onto the Autostrada, heading north.
There’s always something a bit funny about driving in another country. Some are easy, like England and New Zealand. All you need to do is find the unwritten local rules and kinda stick to them. Add the wrong side of the road and things change a bit – then there’s changing manual gears (not for a while) with the wrong hand, and working out how to use the tollways (take a ticket when you get on, pay when you get off) or the automatic petrol stations. It’s all a bit of a learning curve – and 130kmh speed limits, no shoulders, Polish/Austrian/German/Belgian/etc trucks all colour the canvas as we travelled north over the Veneto flatlands.
But then a mountain heaves into view. Wow. Big. And another. And a tunnel, and suddenly we’re in a glacial valley with snowcapped peaks on each side, lakes to the right, hillside villages to the left – and poor old me, stuck with my eyes on the afore mentioned trucks and shoulders, etc. Soon enough, though, we were off the Autstrada and, having chosen a mid- Dolomites GPS destination, winding up some smaller roads, getting smaller by the minute.
You know the Tour de France? When they get to the mountain stages and the roads are narrow and tight, the hairpins numbered, the panorama spectacular? It don’t end at the border! Au contraire! The Dolomites are something to behold. The peaks are magnificent stone bluffs, thrusting hundreds of meters up out of what would be impressive mountains in their own right, but here just foothills, or entrée for the main event. And nestled among the green green fir trees, village after village of fairytale houses – we are within a yodel of Austria here, so much so that most of the signage is in both Italian and Austrian/German.
We stopped for lunch at random restaurant #987 – and it was great, despite neither they nor us sharing a common language – chips for the kids and antipasti with coffee for the grownups. Then off again, and suddenly we’re seeing skiers, not just beside the road, but next to us – above and below us, as we climb one of the major passes (that I think the Giro does in less than a month). Imagine if the Alpine Way climbed all the way up through Thredbo to the top, switch backing up the Supertrail. That’s exactly how it was, bar the thousand-foot cliff faces in every direction, then the 27 hairpins on the way back down into the valley on the other side.
Amazing.
If we’d not been stopping for a “Kodak moment” every 2km, we’d have probably made it into Bolzano sooner than we did – in fact we should probably have stopped in one of the postcard perfect ski towns for the night, instead of ending up in a too-expensive Best Western. At least they had parking and a nice view of Bolzano’s Gothic Cathedral. We were reamed over dinner too – but that’s just one of those things now.
Breakfast, on the other hand rocked. I had strudel.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Venice. WOW.
Finally.
We got off the train, followed detailed instructions to our key pickup, then via the Vaperetto (water busses) to the stop, right the way down the Grand Canal, nearest our rented apartment. Again, flawless directions led us to the front door, and not long after a text beckoned Aunty Margaret to our locale. Luck, and the end of a rather protracted PhD, had my sister Margaret in England as a bit of a reward and what better than to chase your nieces around the Serene Republic for Easter – so now we were five (though she did have a rather better class of accom than us, what with St Mark’s Basin views from her second floor window – and us in our back streets apartment.
Venice. It is an amazing place. There are far too many tourists. But there are some off the beaten tracks in the 1x3km city, where you do feel like you’re from mars. Unlike so many other cities around the world, this one really has hardly changed in 500 years. No new roads mean that, when you look out the window you’re seeing pretty much the same view Marco Polo and Casanova did, bar perhaps a bit of crumbling stucco. Best not try and capture it in words, because whoever said it’s hard to take a bad photo in Venice is right.
(Clinck once on the play icon to start the slide show - double click on the slide show to go to the photos in bigger form)
Mik says:
How many years have I wanted to go to Venice? Well one of my first memories was Life of Brian…and the travelogue that went with it, back to Venice” …think I was probably 13 at the time, the age Indi is now.
Well I have been leaving this blog stuff to jim as he really is the one that writes so much better than I but when he said he was leaving the rest of Venice to pictures I had to jump in and write a few words.
Travel fatigue had well and truly set in by the time we hit Venice. Jim and Indi had set us a grueling pace in Rome, Pompeii and Florence and I was looking forward to a bit of a slower time in Venice. But something happened when we crossed the bridge into Venice. A new lease on life! Even though every bone ached in my body like it does after a weeks skiing we were in VENICE the fog rolled in and shrouded the city successfully hiding the throng of tourists gondolas poked out alongside ancient buildings. DOGES palace was an incredibly amazing tour. I have to say the absolute highlight for me was the Gondola ride on our last arvo. I was kinda expecting it to be great but it was so so atmospheric!!! We were in the capable hands of our Gondolier “Mr Augusto” – Marg, Jim’s sister had just purchased a Gondolier calendar and it was a choice between Mr Augusto and Mr July…The younger soccer star! Well Mr Augusto (and his refitted grandfather’s gondola) did not disappoint especially when we hit the open water!
Since I first started glass I had wanted to see Murano and we finally made it. The Museum was good, although not as good as the American one! We watched some Maestro nonchalantly whip up a vase then a horse. He was so not into it. Unfortunately we missed the team of 12 who had of course just finished for the day. I think if you want to see the Maestro’s at work go to the USA! Anyway the shopping was great! So that made up for the lack of good glassblowing. So that’s me checked off, Indi checked off, Sasha checked off so we are looking forward to Jim’s choice… the Dolomites!
We got off the train, followed detailed instructions to our key pickup, then via the Vaperetto (water busses) to the stop, right the way down the Grand Canal, nearest our rented apartment. Again, flawless directions led us to the front door, and not long after a text beckoned Aunty Margaret to our locale. Luck, and the end of a rather protracted PhD, had my sister Margaret in England as a bit of a reward and what better than to chase your nieces around the Serene Republic for Easter – so now we were five (though she did have a rather better class of accom than us, what with St Mark’s Basin views from her second floor window – and us in our back streets apartment.
Venice. It is an amazing place. There are far too many tourists. But there are some off the beaten tracks in the 1x3km city, where you do feel like you’re from mars. Unlike so many other cities around the world, this one really has hardly changed in 500 years. No new roads mean that, when you look out the window you’re seeing pretty much the same view Marco Polo and Casanova did, bar perhaps a bit of crumbling stucco. Best not try and capture it in words, because whoever said it’s hard to take a bad photo in Venice is right.
(Clinck once on the play icon to start the slide show - double click on the slide show to go to the photos in bigger form)
Mik says:
How many years have I wanted to go to Venice? Well one of my first memories was Life of Brian…and the travelogue that went with it, back to Venice” …think I was probably 13 at the time, the age Indi is now.
Well I have been leaving this blog stuff to jim as he really is the one that writes so much better than I but when he said he was leaving the rest of Venice to pictures I had to jump in and write a few words.
Travel fatigue had well and truly set in by the time we hit Venice. Jim and Indi had set us a grueling pace in Rome, Pompeii and Florence and I was looking forward to a bit of a slower time in Venice. But something happened when we crossed the bridge into Venice. A new lease on life! Even though every bone ached in my body like it does after a weeks skiing we were in VENICE the fog rolled in and shrouded the city successfully hiding the throng of tourists gondolas poked out alongside ancient buildings. DOGES palace was an incredibly amazing tour. I have to say the absolute highlight for me was the Gondola ride on our last arvo. I was kinda expecting it to be great but it was so so atmospheric!!! We were in the capable hands of our Gondolier “Mr Augusto” – Marg, Jim’s sister had just purchased a Gondolier calendar and it was a choice between Mr Augusto and Mr July…The younger soccer star! Well Mr Augusto (and his refitted grandfather’s gondola) did not disappoint especially when we hit the open water!
Since I first started glass I had wanted to see Murano and we finally made it. The Museum was good, although not as good as the American one! We watched some Maestro nonchalantly whip up a vase then a horse. He was so not into it. Unfortunately we missed the team of 12 who had of course just finished for the day. I think if you want to see the Maestro’s at work go to the USA! Anyway the shopping was great! So that made up for the lack of good glassblowing. So that’s me checked off, Indi checked off, Sasha checked off so we are looking forward to Jim’s choice… the Dolomites!
Florence – then to Venice.
We were up early and, well, kinda slow actually. We enjoyed what was on offer from our kinda fancy Florentine hotel – including breakfast… beats the hell out of remembering to buy some cereal and milk on the way home the night before. Not that there’s anything wrong with that – and the other does tend to try the budget a little.
Finally we were packed up, checked out and free to wander for five hours or so before jumping on the Eurostar to Venice. We made a bee-line for the Archeological Museum – Indi had pegged this one months ago as a must-do. And we didn’t get lost or anything! Dunno what it is about Florence, but there’s one bit that’d a kinda navigational black hole – around Palazzo Strozzi, where the Galileo exhibition was. We ended up there, me scratching my head – map in hand, a few times over the 48 hours we were in town.
The Archeological Museum was kinda under repair – it seems like the whole of Italy is under repair to a certain extent. Earthquakes notwithstanding. None the less, there was some pretty impressive Etruscan and Egyptian gear on show. It’s interesting that, in a country with such a rich history, their treasures are treasured less well than ours. The National Gallery and Museums in Canberra have far higher conservation values (at least to a layman like me) than the institutions over here. It may be the glut of material they have to conserve, every city seems to have about six hundred museums, palaces, etc – or it may be the environment, the air quality and ongoing building works in Florence and Rome are hardly conducive to sterile storage. Then again, a bunch of stuff does rather stand up well. To this day, in the Vatican, thousands upon thousands of feet walk over the mosaic floor that Augustus Cesar had installed in his crib 2000 years ago. I wish we could get wear like that in Downer!
After more staring at old stuff, we exited and wandered in search of some Florentine gelato. Important to try gelato in every city – more than one if possible, just to be sure. Then to the station and onto the train to Venice. Tuscany is beautiful. It’s a bit rude flashing by in a train that will do 300kmh (according to my gps we were only maxing at about 170 – but it was kinda curvy and hilly) – but we get to drive through it in a week or so and that’ll be slower – though I fully expect to be far too stressed to care about how it looks, Italian driving scares me!!
Finally we were packed up, checked out and free to wander for five hours or so before jumping on the Eurostar to Venice. We made a bee-line for the Archeological Museum – Indi had pegged this one months ago as a must-do. And we didn’t get lost or anything! Dunno what it is about Florence, but there’s one bit that’d a kinda navigational black hole – around Palazzo Strozzi, where the Galileo exhibition was. We ended up there, me scratching my head – map in hand, a few times over the 48 hours we were in town.
The Archeological Museum was kinda under repair – it seems like the whole of Italy is under repair to a certain extent. Earthquakes notwithstanding. None the less, there was some pretty impressive Etruscan and Egyptian gear on show. It’s interesting that, in a country with such a rich history, their treasures are treasured less well than ours. The National Gallery and Museums in Canberra have far higher conservation values (at least to a layman like me) than the institutions over here. It may be the glut of material they have to conserve, every city seems to have about six hundred museums, palaces, etc – or it may be the environment, the air quality and ongoing building works in Florence and Rome are hardly conducive to sterile storage. Then again, a bunch of stuff does rather stand up well. To this day, in the Vatican, thousands upon thousands of feet walk over the mosaic floor that Augustus Cesar had installed in his crib 2000 years ago. I wish we could get wear like that in Downer!
After more staring at old stuff, we exited and wandered in search of some Florentine gelato. Important to try gelato in every city – more than one if possible, just to be sure. Then to the station and onto the train to Venice. Tuscany is beautiful. It’s a bit rude flashing by in a train that will do 300kmh (according to my gps we were only maxing at about 170 – but it was kinda curvy and hilly) – but we get to drive through it in a week or so and that’ll be slower – though I fully expect to be far too stressed to care about how it looks, Italian driving scares me!!
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