Distracted1

Day 3, warm enough for you?

Those of you who know me at all probably know that I’m not a big fan of the heat. Anything above say 65 I generally consider questionable and above 75 I head for an airconditioned basement. So I thought the beautiful cloudless blue sky above Rome this morning was a mixed blessing. The city is confounding in its beauty, its majesty and its grime and chaos. Nearly 3 million people live here, around, amongst and sometimes in the ancient ruins and remnants of the eternal city. You see some of the sleekest, most modern cars, furnishings and appliances. The biggest contemporary design houses in the world are seen here. Modern design and fashion are everywhere, even the cats and dogs have cell phones, but the soul and spirit of the city is the past still present in everyone’s every day. It is a city of contradiction and an amazing adaptability. So it must be in the air and the water here because 94 degrees today and it didn’t bother me a bit.

First stop Basilica San Clemente. It’s a bit of a hike, about as far as Piazza Novona, so we know we can do it. South to the Coliseum, then south west. We go through what seems to be just regular folks neighborhoods, nothing fancy, no big signs for tourist “attractions”, just tucked in amongst the houses and the shops with a little courtyard. From the outside it’s not particularly dramatic or commanding. Inside it is mostly plain grey stone except for the ceiling which is very ornate with some of the deepest coffers I’ve ever seen. (and I’ve seen a lot of coffers.) It also has a very ornate tile floor. The amazing part of San Clemente is what you get for a 5 euro ticket. There is a flight of stairs behind a glass door at the back of the gift shop. The first flight down brings you to the remnants of a church built in the 4^th century. At one point a Roman nobleman’s house it was converted to a church. Beautiful mosaic floors and a worship space of unusually pleasing proportions. There is a just thought that was kind of odd.

Down another narrow twisty flight of stairs and you are in a 1^st century public building. This area was used as a secret church… there are apartments and a water supply rushing through tunnels from a spring. There’s an ancient alleyway where who knows what went on in that crazy party century after getting out of the negative years. No pictures allowed in Basilica San Clemente… sorry. How can they sell post cards if they let people take pictures? (so I stole these off their site.)

Well as long as we were that far south/west we might as well check out the Basilica di San Giovanni in Laterano. One of the big 4 on the pilgrim’s tour. Not that we’re pilgrims mind you … we just like old churches… and I wouldn’t wear buckles on my shoes on a bet.

A little farther south… a little farther west and we emerge from the nice little neighborhood to see San Giovanni across the way… way across the way… like 23 lanes of traffic across the way. Ah Roma. This is the view from half way… oddly, the traffic picked this exact moment to be camera shy. Notice the COMPLETE ABSENCE OF LINES IN THE ROAD!

cross walk? we don’t need no stinkin’ cross walk!

Stepping into San Giovanni is dramatic. It is all designed to impress in intimidate. It has possibly the second most impressive ciborium after St Peters, with a cage on top holding silver statues of Peter and Paul. One of the most interesting things is that there is a very special chair here. After a new Pope is elected, within the first month, he is supposed to come and sit in this chair to make him really Pope. I have to wonder… with Francis and his pragmatic style, did he just tootle up in his Fiat, dash in, plop himself down for a minute and back to work?

I swear! it was so hot his face just melted right off!

The Pope maker.

There was a choir practicing somewhere too and that always makes all the gold shinier and all the frescos more colorful somehow.

The huge bronze doors on San Giovanni are ancient originals and were relocated from the curia, or the Senate House, in the Imperial Forum. Only about 25 feet tall, but still there is something impressive about them. It gives me the electric shivers to grab hold of the doorknob that all those dudes at the granddaddy of toga parties touched when they were making up the rules to the western civilization game.

Back to the apartment for salami and cheese sandwiches and a bit of a break.

One thing on the afternoon agenda… Santa Maria Maggiori. Another of the big 4. (This was not planned.) As we finally don’t have to consult our map we are marching along, window shopping and dodging scooters and pedestrians when we are approached by a woman holding a guide book. “Do you know where Boschetto Street is?” “Via Boschetto? It’s right down there about 2 blocks, where you can see those vines hanging.” We say. “And Panisperna?” “You’re on Panisperna.”  “Thank you” she says enthusiastically “It’s nice to be able to speak English!”   We start to feel a little bit like we’re getting the hang of it.

Down a hill and up a hill and across another 8 lanes of traffic. I don’t know if it’s just me, but in the US we tend to pass to the right, even on the sidewalk, we just naturally move to the right when we meet up head on. Right? Well in Italy it’s a little different… you have to make eye contact and have a quick little telepathic debate. Half the time it’s to the left and half the time to the right and the third half of the time they don’t move aside at all!

Santa Maria Maggiori. The most interesting thing to me about this church is the fact that Bernini’s tomb is here and that it is so inconspicuous. For a guy who’s name is on some of the most conspicuous things in this city his final resting place is marked by a couple of lines inscribed on a step on the side of the alter. Trod upon every day. I had to wait for people to step down from taking pictures of the alter so I could get a picture of it.

There is a lot of gold on the ceiling and I have to wonder what the sum total of all that gold leaf weighs up there and where did it come from?

Back down to the apartment… we stop for an espresso (me) and a caffe freddo (D). The baristo asks us where we are from. We tell him Michigan, USA. He says he is from Ecuador. By the look on his face, I don’t think he knows where Michigan is.

It’s laundry night so take-out pizza for dinner. I go in, I special order a pizza, I watch the guy throw the dough, make the pizza pop it into the wood fired oven and I walk out with a hot perfect pizza in 5 minutes. As it should be!

A motorcycle I saw parked by the Coliseum because I like old motorcycles and D said she would buy me one when I turn 60. A sign in a shop doorway that reminded me of Midsummer Night’s Dream!

Full day 2

A little stiff this morning, the stiff mattress was a little stiffer perhaps without the benefit of a transatlantic voyage to redefine “stiff” and to knock us out. But we woke up in Rome and that can have a remarkably invigorating effect. A good strong cup of coffee, a couple of fresh bandaids and off we go.

There are small cars here and being one of the style centers of the world one would expect to see a pink Hello Kitty Smart Car … right? Also these wee green cars… the scooter next to it was taller. !

We head west this morning for Santa Maria sopra Minerva. A church built over a pagan temple. Not so unusual but this is a pretty spectacular church. There is the body of St. Catherine of Sienna here (her head is in Sienna) and there is the odd “Risen Christ” statue by Michelangelo. Messed up by his assistant Pietro Urbano who was tasked with installing it. He apparently did his own finishing touches to the hands, feet and face which most folks think didn’t do it any favors. I guess there were some individuals with delicate sensibilities at some point who thought the statue a bit immodest and a bronze diaper was added to cover his naughty bits.

There is also the body of St Victoria, martyr. Supposedly she was a pretty tough cookie who refused to worship some pagan deity even while being tortured. Killed sometime between the 1^st and 5th century. She looks pretty nonplussed about the whole thing if you ask me.

The candle sticks on the main alter were pretty cool too.

Off now to Chiesa St. Ignacio. Supposedly the ceiling is a remarkable feat of forced perspective and illusion. Supposedly the painted ceiling is supposed to “fool the eye” into thinking it is higher than it is and that the architectural elements below continue up… and the fresco’s leap right off the wall… and there are real dragons in a magical place called Kansas.

Ok… maybe not the last part but the rest is “true” and I suppose it could be pretty amazing by candle light and after a lot of wine. At the center of the church there is a completely fake dome. Flat flat flat ceiling, but if you stand in one particular spot (marked by the yellow circle of marble inlay in the floor) and look up it actually does look kind of domed.

A gelato to fortify and over to the Pantheon. This is one place we have been before. There is something about it though that brings us back. The dome is pretty much perfect and you can sense it. A perfect dome 140 feet high with an uninterrupted open space beneath it 140 feet in diameter… designed by Apollodorus of Damascus and opened in the year 127. You have to be dead not to get goose bumps!

Piazza Novona next… just because. It’s kind of cool, the fountains and the hustle bustle craziness of it all. Way to expensive there for lunch so we head further west and stop on the side of the street for a salad and a cannelloni al carne. Nothing outstanding… but there was shade and beer so it was perfect.

Campo al Fiori and the outdoor market. YIKES. Lots of vendors and very small isles between them. The varieties of peppers and pastas and tomatoes and …. It was a feast for the eyes. We didn’t buy anything. Amazing.

A good long shlep home and a nap before dinner. Dinner across the street again. The mixed skewer of grilled beast with potatoes for me and a pasta pomadoro (boreing) for D.

We waddled off for an evening stroll. The night is getting lively and we… are headed off to bed.

Wheee, how about a push?!

The end of day 1
So after the Irish Pub burger food coma we enjoyed after lunch on day 1 we decided to go for what looked like a little walk to the Giardini del Quirinale. We walked and we walked and we knew we were on the right street but where we thought the gardens should sort of maybe be we came to a 4 lane wide very long tunnel. We knew we were going in the right direction, it must be shortly beyond what turned out to be a tunnel 3 blocks long. About two blocks in we began to wonder if we should have taken the stairs up on either side of the entrance to the tunnel… we began to wonder if we were at this point UNDER the gardens. Turns out funnily enough (ha .. ha .. haa) that we had passed under the gardens. As we exited the tunnel we see a street to the right called Via Giardini. Not enthused by the prospect of walking back through the tunnel, Via Giardini sounds promising. The map shows the gardens surrounded by a huge building and after what seems like way longer than possible we see a garden. It’s on the other side of the street from where it should be but hey, we know we’re in the right vicinity. We cross the street, headed for the garden. We stop at a church on the way (because that’s what we do when we’re here) which turns out to be Chiesa Sant’ Andrea. Designed by Bernini (as half the city seems to be) it is a small, sumptuous oval shaped church with lots of playful cherubim or “puti” all over the place. One of my favorite churches so far I think.

puti peering down, I hope they don’t have water balloons.

Hey guys!
A little help here?!

The garden was right next to the church and was called the garden of Sant’ Andrea. Very tropical with palms and flowers and a play area. There is a sculpture commemorating the 200th anniversary of the founding of the Carabiniere, the Italian federal police.

   Turns out that wasn’t the garden we were looking for and as we circled around to where the entrance to the Giardini del Quirinal should be, we were chased away by a dude in a very fancy uniform. The Quirinal Palace seems to be the Italian version of the White House, where the president of the republic hangs out … (who knew?) and the gardens are closed until July 2. There was a small exhibit of Greek/Italian art that we could view in a tiny corner of the palace though so after a couple of minutes at the metal detectors and bag x-ray machine, we did. Lots of reeeeeeeeeealy old stuff. Plus a bonus El Greco, a Caravaggio and a Preti.
 

We wandered back to the apartment for a little freshening up before dinner. Funny thing, 6-8 miles a day walking on the cobbles and hills and steps of ancient Rome is turning out to be a little tougher on the old hip joints and knees than was planned on. Bah!
A couple of amazing pizzas and a bottle of wine (served in tumblers) and all was right again.

So, maybe we didn’t get to see the gardens we were planning on, but we were compensated with some amazing art, a lovely little park and a bit of adventure. This is why we travel!

Full day #1

Good morning Rome!

Our first night in the apartment we slept the sleep of the dead, despite the remarkably firm mattress. The apartment is small and by small I mean I’ve seen more square footage of living space parked in a spot at a KOA Campground. Note the bathroom sink the size of my hand and the child friendly railing in the loft sleeping area…

our street

It has everything we need though and the neighborhood is amazing. Rione Monti is one of the oldest and most central areas of Rome. The Coliseum is about five minutes walking and there are many reasonable small restaurants, café bars, shops and tiny grocery stores all around us. [ neighborhood pics]

the obligatory pic of The Coliseum. it will be nice when the finish installing the new windows…

Today we set off for the Jewish Ghetto neighborhood. The ghetto was established by Pope Paul IV in July 1555. Called in Italian: serraglio degli Ebrei or claustro degli Ebrei, it was a walled neighborhood where the Jews were required to live and where the gates were locked at night and opened in the morning. As we entered from the north, we come across the turtle fountain, at one point the only source of fresh water for the entire ghetto.

turtle fountain

which at the time was over 2000 people.

Sophia’s place

On the way to the ghetto we passed Trajan’s market, his column and his forum. Emperors sure can be full of themselves. We also checked out Augustus’ forum, the Portico d’Ottiavia (later a fish market) and teatro di Marcello (where Sophia Loren had a flat!)

safe haven

Trajan’s tall pokey thing with the story on it.

Il Duce reincarnated?

On the way back we we stopped in to see the Largo di Torre Argentina excavation site and cat sanctuary. Yes, I know a lot of you are thinking “what?” but the folks who know me will not be surprised, I can hear them groaning from here.

We decide to head back to the apartment for a little rest and to tend our (not mine) blisters. Lunch on the way at The Shamrock… Irish pub. A burger and potatoes, a good Irish beer, delicious, no pictures needed.

The indignity of travel by air, or, portrait of the artist as a young sardine.

It really is a miracle. To leave one’s home in West Michigan at 2 pm and 15 hours later be sitting in a piazza in the center of the eternal city of Rome. A trip that took my great grandparents some weeks! I try to keep this thought in mind as we jostle and jockey for position in the “line” at the gate, then the Tetris championship tournament of carry on and overhead bin space. Only to be rewarded with a thin cushioned seat and the armrest joust game. Now I make no claim to be a small guy, I think I would be considered the definition of average… 5 feet 11 inches wearing a 36 inch waist, but the space allotted per passenger in economy (steerage) class on a commercial airliner would have the aspca, peta and the friends of fowl protesting in Washington if I was a chicken. Now I know what the two year old child stuck in the back seat of the stroller made for twins must feel like. The only possible next step is to take the seats out all together and install poles and handles and require everyone to stand. The gate attendants could shove people in the door Tokyo subway style.

Eating at 40,000 feet is always a special experience. As the seats and the space between them have slowly evaporated, the size of the tray table has followed. So when that tray of little individual dishes, each with a cover on it or wrapped in plastic, is unapologetically dropped in front of you the only place to put the lids and wrappers is under and on top of each dish. It’s quite the puzzle exercise. Heaven forbid you have to cut your food. The only way to make that work is to get everyone in your row synchronized, lest one get or give an elbow to your neighbor’s liver… aaaaand, cut, right left right left one two one two…

We made it though, stiffer than last time, but better fed. (that last part was facetious).

As we gather the luggage and the socks and tiny tubes of toothpaste, as we close our eyes and push the “Purchase Ticket” button, forcing the obscene numbers out of our minds, I am at once anxious and excited to travel again. Being not the most pragmatic personality, I muse philosophic. So why do we travel? For some people it is to get away, for some it is to get to, for some it is to check off the things on the list (poor souls). Many great minds have pondered why we travel.

“Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.” – Anatole France

I like that, I wander a lot. I pace around my office, I pace back and forth from my desk to the kitchen, from the family room to the garage. This is how I think. For me wandering is pondering.

But why do we travel? To simply know of more?

“The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. – Saint Augustine

Certainly true. But it is not just the world that we travel to know more of. Intentionally or unintentionally, whether we know it or not, when we travel we come to know more about ourselves. When we travel, no matter how absurdly complicated the arrangements and the planning can be, we are forced to experience everyday things more immediately, more essentially. Where is the next meal ? Where is the next toilet? How do I ask for directions ? It is oddly liberating to have control over so little. When we take nothing for granted our understanding and so our appreciation of simple things is enhanced.

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.” – Cesare Pavese

One of my favorite things when I travel is the feeling of not knowing, or at least not feeling like I know. I try to un-know when I travel, to open myself to that glorious feeling of discovery that my 4 and 5 year old self lived in. We all have memories of what it felt like to be unjaded. I long to be ignorant of the most likely. I get more excited when I travel, I am more eager and, good, bad or otherwise, I believe more.

I like the feeling of being part of something bigger than what I know. I am made bigger by being shown that I am so much smaller than I am in my familiar world. The world is so much more than my home town, my company, my commute. There is so much more to think about than my phone bills and getting my car tires rotated. In a way, travel can be a form of mobile monasticism. When we travel we must live simply. We choose to experience new places and new situations with no more possessions than we can carry with us. We must open our minds and be ready to learn and to be closer to the universe as a whole in order to simply get from table to table and bed to bed. Camus said “What gives value to travel is fear”. It’s not the fear like fearing for one’s life, it’s the kind of fear that makes you giggle nervously. Fear of what comes next? No, fear of not knowing ( but being pretty sure it will be OK).  It is exciting but a little scary not knowing… it opens the senses, it opens the mind and the heart and the whole world of possibilities. Otherwise what would be the point?
Of course there’s always the food… and the wine…

It is the depths of winter in Michigan. There is ample snow and ice for the building of forts and skating, skiing and gazing at the beauty of a snowy forest in the moonlight. Half of the parking spots in the city are gone and there’s no way to really know how long it will take to get to work. Who doesn’t love soggy shoes and all the joys of a winter wonderland?  This is when the Eternal City of Rome and the Tuscan villages that we love so much grow insistent in their whispers to our hearts. Schedules are consulted. When is the last performance? When is the beginning of the summer intensive program? When are the special publications sent to print? When would we have to be back?

Dates are picked. The search has begun for an apartment in Rome. In all the years of visiting Italy we have only a few hours of Roman memories. It is time to get to know the city that so much of what we are and what we believe in, was born in. It only makes sense that it would eventually become our destination, all roads lead one there don’t they?

Somewhere between the train station and the Colosseum, 3rd floor with a loft bedroom, a little kitchen and a place to sit and write postcards at the end of the day. The pictures promise a perfect home base.  Should we book it? I think we should, it sounds great. So I should then? Yes, I think so. Ok, I’ll book it then…

Friends have been contacted for accommodations in Tuscany and the little streets of our village home away from home are growing nearer.

There are flights to book and cars to rent and … the Michigan winter is getting a little prettier, a little shorter  and just a little easier to enjoy.

A very pleasant breakfast (the usual coffee, yogurt, rolls and stuff) and we gather our wherewithal for Venice. The walk down the crazy steep hill, with our luggage, is a little scary but easier than the walk up empty handed.

The reviews we’ve gotten from people we actually know or from people who actually know people we actually know who have been to Venice, have been split pretty much 50/50 like/dislike. It’s a 330 kilometer drive from Urbino (205 miles) so we have a little time to prepare.

Now, we have a 13 year old road map of Italy that has been our sole navigational aid for 10 trips and probably six or seven thousand miles of driving around Italy. You know what happens when they re-number one highway and build another highway and give it the same number as the old one? You zip right past a city the size of Venice and find yourself headed straight for Trieste.  Meh.

A minor inconvenience.

We turn ourselves around and in no time are crossing the causeway and looking for the tronchetto parking area. The biggest parking ramp I have ever seen. We end up parking on the roof (of course) and wander off in search of a ‘vaporetto’ or water bus.

Unafraid as I am of looking ignorant or simple, I ask the first person who looks at least possibly local which way to the the vaporetto? The gentleman in business clothes with a shopping bag and a nice leather satchel informs us that  he is going there and we can follow him. He then proceeds to demonstrate his Olympic speed walking technique.

We find the ticket office, we buy 2 tickets for 14euro and we know we need to get on the #2 waterbus to the Piazzale Roma stop where we are supposed to change to the #1 waterbus to the Ca d’Oro stop. We promptly get on the #2 waterbus which is going the wrong direction. Waterbuses go both directions on any give route and stop at the same stops no matter which way they are going. You have to make sure that you get on a clockwise #2 waterbus at the Tronchetto station going to the Piazzale Roma station because if you get on a counterclockwise #2 waterbus to the Piazzale Roma station  it is a very long trip.  We jump off the counterclockwise bus and jump on the clockwise bus and soon we have changed to a clockwise #1 waterbus at the Piazzale Roma station and shortly thereafter we are where we are supposed to be… ish.

Approximately 300 meters and one hard left turn from the bus stop, we arrive at the front door of  Hotel Bernardi Semenzato. It is a front door on a “street” that I can touch the walls on both side of without fully extending my arms.

Old and out of date, the tiny front desk is covered with paperwork and brochures, there are rows of little boxes behind the clerk with a single key with a great brass fob hanging from a hook in each one. The pictures on the walls are all askew and there is a bar directly across the “street”. The whole place looks like it could have been the setting for a 60s Italian movie.  It does have WiFi, it is considerably cleaner than first impressions would lead one to expect and, there is plenty of quick hot water. What more could you ask for? (Earplugs actually but we never travel without.)

 Our first walk in Venice we don’t stray too far from the neighborhood or the larger streets to get our bearings. Diner canal side was good but the atmosphere was more memorable than the food.  We make an early night of it in preparation for a big day of exploring tomorrow.

 Day 13… earplugs out, breakfast in and here we go.  First target is the Rialto Bridge.  Wow. That’s quite a bridge. It has shops on it a la the ponte vecchio in Florence (only smaller) but since we got a fairly early start to  big day of exploring, the shops still have their steel shutters closed. So the impression of the Rialto is covered with graffiti and tourists taking pictures of each other with the grand canal in the background. (Like this)

Next on the agenda? St Marks Square. Winding streets and lots of little shops later we pop out of the shadows into the blindingg sunlight and there it is. It is an impressive place, I must say. But even more impressive is the line to get in. So we don’t.  With only one day to see Venice most of our seeing will be of the outside of places. We look for a place to get a coffee and look at our map. There are cafes set up all around the square. Half of them half little orchestras playing (at 11am !) We take a seat at the one closest to us at the moment. The menu arrives. The first thing on the menu is a a 6 euro charge per person on the first order for the orchestra. Coffee is 5 euro so for a mere 22 euros ($27.50) we can have a cup of coffee. We thank the man in the little white jacket and be on our way.

 Standing in the shade opposite said cafe, we remark on how it seems like there aren’t as many pigeons as we expected… at which moment a seagul drops out of the sky and pins a pigeon to the paving stones, grabs it by the neck and shakes it then flies off with it! That explains that then.

 Around the corner in the square along the side of the ducal palace we find a patch of steps to sit on and review our map and our handy xeroxed pages from the guide book. After about a minute two young blond women wearing red shirts that say “St. Marks Square Guardian” on the back inform us that sitting on the steps in the square is not allowed… alrighty then.

 Campo San Stephano. Quiet, Pretty, nobody selling ‘original’ watercolors or handbags or ‘I heart Venice’ hats… or telling us we can’t sit. The head waiter guy at the cafe (no orchestra) seemed like he was glad to see us. A couple of pannini, a beer and no orchestra. We sit for a while just enjoying the calm of the piazza.

We scope out the Chiesa di Santo Stefano, built in 1200s it was the scene of a fair amount of drama and bloodshed and had to be reconsecrated 6 times over the centuries. Oddly, there’s nothing in the literature available in the church tells us why or that even mentions this. For some people, there’s just never enough drama I guess.

On we wander. We would like to see the Peggy Guggenheim Collection but $30 is just a tad past reaonable for entry. Venice is pricey, no doubt about it. It is the first city I have felt like is preying on tourists not just living off them.  So Chiesa Santa Maria Salute is next.  A beautiful building with an amazing dome in the center. I think this is one of my favorite churches.  We sit on the steps and enjoy the view of the grand canal. I guess Santa Maria is less fussy about her steps than St. Mark.

A different route back to the hotel, the winding narrow streets, the gelato, the Ferrari store (!) and after 6-1/2 hours of walking we are back to rest and clean up for dinner.

 Pause…. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz …

 A little reading, a little map studying and it’s time to go find dinner.. I’m kinda over the big cafe on the big street by the big canal thing so we find a little cafe on a little street by a little canal.  Greeted by the chef and the head waiter we tak our seets at a little table. It was a delicious meal… definitely more effort into it than the big street cafes we’ve done so far.

Fresh peas, fresh pasta, cod and grilled polenta, stuffed pumpkin flowers on a bed of diced succini and tomatoes (wow) and a charcoal grilled steak with balsamic reduction… and french fries (?)   

MMMmm, fed, full and happy, an arm in arm stroll through Venice back to the room.

We done did Venice and enjoyed it.

 Day 14,

Morning is a splash and go and were off to find our car. (After a quick stop for a couple of gift purchases.) Waterbus ticket? check. Get on the right waterbus? check. Crazy grumpy old Venition guy gets all up in my face because he doesn’t like where I’m standing on the waterbus. (yes it was kinda in the door but the thing was packed… where was I supposed to stand?)  He gets a bit red in the face, pokes his finger at me and calls me crazy, calls all Americans crazy. I was tempted to caution him about the dangers of anger stress and strokes… I wished I knew how to say “let’s talk about it next time Italy gets invaded” in Italian. Instead I just nodded and appologized and pretended I didn’t understand him and let him grumble and rant his grumpy self off the boat at the next stop.

Switch to #1 counterclockwise waterbus at Piazzale Roma, next stop Tronchetto and the biggest parking ramp ever. The car was right where we left it. The parking ramp ticket? well it turned out to be in the bottom of my back pack. (Whew!)

 Back on the road again… la la la… Milan (Malpensa) bound. We have booked a room in the Hotel Visconti, a small hotel about 10 minutes from the airport. They have suggested that we return the car when we arrive and they will take us to the airport in the morning. So, we check in and leave the bags. Donna stays while I go return the car. 2192 kilometers (1359 miles) and one front bumper scuff older than when we picked it up in Rome. (the scuff happened while it was parked, it had nothing to do with my driving.)

 A nice dinner with a couple from New Jersey and early to bed. That pretty much wraps it.

Note… I think the airlines are all run by honey badgers… I’m just sayin’.

Ascoli Piceno to Urbino.

The sun seems to rise here at about 5am. It can really mess with you when it gets light that early and make you think you’ve over slept. It is another beautiful day and breakfast on the terrace looking across the river at the walls and towers of the old city is very pleasant. Fresh homemade apple and raisin tarts, cappuccino, espresso, orange juice, ricotta cakes and yogurt.. I could get used to this kind of breakfast. (served to me on a terrace in Italy…)

Getting out of Ascoli Piceno is a lot easier than getting in to it and soon we are zipping along the A14 Autostrada along the coast of the Adriatic Sea, mountains on one side and the sea on the other. The scenery is absolutely lovely.

After we leave the Autostrada and about 400 roundabouts which always seem to exit to the left (?) we find our way up and in to the very small walled city of Urbino without much trouble. The Albergo Italia is a lovely, modernized place at the base of the back wall of the Ducal Palace and the cathedral.

At check in the girl gives us a parking pass so we can get some lunch before taking the car out of the walls to the parking area. This is common that you can drive into the city to check in to your hotel and drop your luggage but you have to park outside the walled city itself. The directions I am given take me right through the main piazza and down a very narrow, very steep road with people and cars and strollers and doors (whee!) through a stone gate and to the free parking area. I am ‘lucky’ enough to get the second to the last spot before the paid parking area starts. The spot is tight… the drivers door very much in the bushes and I have to climb over the stick and out the passenger side. (agh… tomorrow morning is going to be even more fun getting back in.)

The climb back up to the hotel will leave me feeling it in my legs for a while.

Urbino is a college town and the home town of the painter Raphael. It is positively crawling with young people. A couple of hours of wandering aimlessly and we have seen most of the place. I think it gives Cortona a run for the charming hill town prize but D. doesn’t think it can compete.

It does have a restaurant called Tratoria Del Leone though. Recommended by the front desk clerk at the hotel, we have no reason to doubt so down the hill and under the church we are seated near a window looking up at the crazy steep road. We don’t know it but we are about to have our socks knocked off.

We share an antipasti of breaded fried olives stuffed with broccoli and sausage. The sausage stuffed ones are unbelievable and the broccoli ones merely delicious. D. .has a frittata with pumpkin, cheese and mushrooms and a plate of spinach (again) with pecorino cheese.

I have the coniglio,,, rabbit stuffed with sausage, olives and pancetta seasoned with fennel top and a plate of leaks and spinach.    This is without question the best rabbit I have ever had. For desert D. has the chocolate tart with “wild berries” sauce. The tart like a flourless cake is excellent. I have a chilled almond mouse with an amaretto reduction on it. What a way to end a great meal and a lovely day.

Urbino will not be soon forgotten.

Today is Jeanette’s birthday! She has invited Alessandra over to join us for breakfast. We take our time and chat over waffles with strawberries (Alessandra’s first ever waffles!), coffee, Juice, more coffee, ricotta tart, etc. It was a very nice way to say arrivederci to Cortona this time.

 The escalators to the parking area are still out of service… oof

 We head out of town on the road that passes Casa Fontelunga, the first place we stayed, the first time we came to Cortona, the first time we came to Italy 13 years ago… sigh.

It was a fairly easy drive through the mountains to the Le Marche region. We have been curious about this area for a long time. When we were looking at houses, the prices in Le Marche were markedly lower than Tuscany (most everywhere is) and it was touted as the “next Tuscany” after Umbria was the “next Tuscany” and the Umbrian prices pretty much caught up with Tuscany. So Ascoli Paceno here we come. We only had to stop and ask directions once (different category than wrong turns) and when we did we were only a few blocks from the B&B! The B&B is a little gate on a somewhat decrepit looking street and we are very pleased to see that once you pass through the gate, the place looks like the pictures on the internet. A beautiful view of the old city, a nice loggia and a patio on which we will have breakfast in the morning.

A.P. Is a town of about 50,000 or so and is obviously economically stressed. There is a lot of graffiti and a lot of disrepair. The old city is still a very intriguing place though and there is a lot of vitality in the shops and the piazzas. There are a lot of young people and I have never seen so many babies and children in any town in Italy.

I guess we could have waited to do our laundry here. There is a laundromat just a few steps from the B&B, it is a little old, but seems functional…

Dinner is quite good. I have a pasta with pancetta in a grappa sauce (a lot like a vodka sauce) and Donna has a pasta with “papera” and pecorino. Neither one of us know what this critter is and after eating it and studying the bones… we still don’t know. It turns out it was goose, and it was quite tasty. We are only here for one night but I am left wondering if Ascoli Piceno might turn into a destination. Of course there are no main roads anywhere near it so that’s probably going to be a problem. (and the Italian economy… but we won’t get into that.)

WiFi is a little dodgy at the B&B so I am not able to publish but that’s what happens when you stay in a place with 2 foot thick stone walls…  It’ll have to wait.