Barbara's Travel Blog

Viva la Venice

After a couple days in Venice (my second time here), I once again have to say that any guidebook or person who tells you Venice isn’t worth visiting is nuts. Yes, it’s overcrowded with tourists. Yes, sometimes it smells bad. But it’s such a unique city with so much character and history – how could you not love it?

We lucked out again with our hotel, staying at the Locanda Orseolo, where the staff may be literally the nicest people on earth. My mom and I immediately developed a shared crush on Francesco, the sexy and charming front desk guy. Sadly, I was so dizzy with lust every time I was around him, I neglected to get a photo of him. But trust me, he’ll live on in my and my mother’s memories.

We did some obligatory sightseeing, wandering down narrow allies and across winding canals. We saw San Marco’s cathedral and square, where tourists and pigeons flock in seemingly equal numbers. We also saw the bridge of sighs, which was once used to transport prisoners between the courthouse and the jail. And of course, no trip to Venice is complete without a trip to the Rialto bridge.

But in truth, sightseeing took a back seat to the shopping bug we both caught as we saw shop after shop of gorgeous Venetian glass products. We spent hours visiting different shops to find the perfect purchases, though of course most of what we saw was way out of our budget.

Before we arrived, my mom had been reading up about La Fenice, Venice’s gorgeous opera house. We lucked out and managed to get tickets to see La Traviata. The inside of the opera house was beautiful, and the show was fantastic. The only down side was that it was in Italian, so our understanding of the story line was limited, as evidenced by the fact that we accidentally left early. Yes, you read that right. Apparently La Traviata has two intermissions, but at the end of the second there was so much applause, we thought it was the end, so we left. We felt a bit foolish when we realized it later, but enjoyed what we saw, and were glad to have beat the rush for dinner at the restaurant in front of the theater.

As always, I had my eyes peeled in Venice for the unusual and unexpected. It turns out the incident in Florence of the man in the lavender pants has become a trend, with sightings in Venice of men in lime green and coral pants (note that I didn’t realize until later that I’d captured the latter in a semi-compromising position).

Another more shocking sight was when we spotted a 20-something guy dive into the grand canal for a swim. Given the amount of garbage and raw sewage in the canal, I’d be amazed if he made it out without contracting something unpleasant. Blech!

More photos at http://babas.typepad.com/photos/my_gap_year_4/index.html.

Under the Tuscan Sun with my mom

For our last day in Tuscany, we rented another Smart Car and headed southeast this time, toward Arezzo and Cortona. We’d read good things about Arezzo in one of our books, and even better about Cortona, which was made famous in Frances Mayes’ Under the Tuscan Sun.

The drive to Arezzo took a few hours by back roads that wound through rolling hills of grape vines and olive trees, interspersed with villages, towns and castles. But as we navigated our way through the suburbs into the center of Arezzo, we realized it was much bigger than we’d anticipated. We weren’t interested in being anywhere large enough to have suburbs, so we nixed that part of the plan and continued on to Cortona.

Thankfully, Cortona was all that and a bag of bruschetta. Perched on top of a hill with stellar views, Cortona is cute and quaint personified, with winding little streets, window flower boxes, open-air restaurants, and tiny shops with friendly shopkeepers. I can see why Frances Mayes fell in love with the town.

Heading back to Florence, we opted for the faster route of the toll highway, zipping back to Florence in about an hour. We had time to spare, so we drove up to Piazzale Michelangelo, a peak with spectacular views of the city. We were so pleased we had time to stop there, but in the end it meant another race back to the rental car office in order to make the 7pm deadline. Thank goodness we don’t have any more plans to rent cars on this trip, because another one of those crunch endings might just be too much for both of us!

Planes, trains and automobiles (or in this case, trains, bikes, buses and segways)

In the last couple days we’ve continued to see the sights of Tuscany, while inadvertently testing out as many modes of transportation as possible.

Yesterday we hopped a train to Pisa to see the ever-famous leaning tower. I know plenty of guidebooks that will tell you it’s not worth the trip just to see this one sight, but I heartily disagree. This is my second time visiting it, and as before, I was struck by how dramatic the white tower (as well as the church and baptistery) looks against the blue sky, and how simply novel its sharp tilt is.

Upon the recommendation of our hotel owners, after going to Pisa we headed north to the cute walled town of Lucca. Our plans to ride the train there fell through when we couldn’t find a cab to take us to the station, but as luck would have it we found a bus line to Lucca instead. At the bus stop we met Diane and Gene, a friendly couple from northern California who proved to be a wealth of information as far as the bus and train schedules were concerned. Before long we were making plans to join them for lunch in Lucca, where they have spent a couple months a year for the last seven years.

After lunch we rented bikes (thankfully much more comfortable than the ones in Rome) and rode around the town on top of the wall that surrounds the city. The views of the town were lovely, and at one point we found ourselves joining a crowd watching a rooftop fire being extinguished.

Today we set out for a tour of the sights of Florence. We had debated whether my mom could handle a three-hour walking tour, what with her ankle still recovering, when we stumbled on what seemed like a clever solution: A tour company that specializes in Segway tours. Segways are a sort of electric scooter that you stand on, which meant we could zip around town without all the walking.

While the Segways were amusing and attention-grabbing (virtually everyone we passed was curious about them), they didn’t provide quite the relief we’d hoped for. We found our knees, ankles and feet just as sore (if not more) at the end of the tour than if we’d walked, since you tend to be a bit tense while learning the nuances of operating a Segway. It was also tough to get good photos, and the tour guide wasn’t up to par with the ones I’ve had on walking tours in Florence. Nonetheless, we had fun and I’ll definitely add that to the list of unusual and unexpected experiences I’ve had on this trip.

While on the tour, we saw most of the expected sights (visit http://babas.typepad.com/photos/my_gap_year_4/ for more photos), but my two favorite unexpected moments were spotting a man in lavender pants (I thought Italy was supposed to be a fashion capitol?), and finding out that Nero (or at least his statue) is as much of a hunk from the back as from the front. Now that’s culture.

Ees NOT imposeeblay!

We arrived in Florence a few days ago, where we have settled into our lovely (and cost-effective, by European standards anyway) hotel just a few blocks from the famous Ponte Vecchio bridge.

On our first night, we found a cute little trattoria just down the block for dinner, and my mom delightedly ordered the lobster spaghetti, which was listed at a mere 6 euros (approximately $9 U.S.). Unfortunately, what was unclear on the menu (but which the waitress was happy to explain after the fact) was that it was 6 euros per 100 hectograms (or at least that’s what it sounded like the waitress was saying, after I took issue with the 36 euro item on our bill). She laughed when I said we expected it to be 6 euros, saying “ees imposeeblay!” Grrr.

Yesterday we rented a car (my first time driving the cute Smart Car brand I’ve seen all over Europe) and headed south to explore some of the Tuscan countryside. But first we had a little tussle at the rental car shop, where I asked for a breakdown of the 34 euro rate (which was much higher than the 13 euro reservation I had made on their web site). I knew there would be fees, but more than double? When I mentioned the 13 euro base rate, again I was met with “ees imposeeblay!” I swear, if one more Italian woman tells me “ees imposeeblay,” it’s poseeblay I may get violent.

When we finally settled into the car (and after an embarrassing return to the rental car counter to ask how to put the car in gear) we tootled down to San Gimignano, a hilltop village dating back to medieval times. We enjoyed a delicious lunch overlooking the Tuscan hillside, and walked around soaking up the utter cuteness until we could soak no more. Most importantly, I bought I fantastic red leather shoulder bag for a steal – 60 euros, talked down from the 79 euros on the price tag. The guy told me he’d just make it up on his next sale to a Japanese tourist (Who am I to argue? The dollar is weak right now!).

Next we tracked down a winery to buy some wine we’d had over lunch, followed by a drive to Siena to visit a government wine shop that we’d read had afternoon wine tastings. Unfortunately, we didn’t time our trip quite right, and by the time we got to Siena it was already time to leave in order to make it back before the rental shop closed.

Between the traffic getting out of town and our fear of rush hour in Florence, I ended up driving the 60 kilometers back like a madwoman, going 120 km/hour in a 90 zone. My mother only gasped in fear for her life a few times (possibly a world record for her), and we made it back with just five minutes to spare. Phew!

Today we tromped down to the Uffizzi museum to learn about Italian of art over the centuries. There was some lovely art, of course, but we found ourselves raising our eyebrows and chuckling at the snooty voiceover on the museum’s audio guide. “Note how the artist has created an otherworldliness by placing the subject in a setting that transcends time and space” – imagine two hours of this nonsense! As we exited one of the halls, my mom cracked me up, saying, “Note how the architects have created a sense of relief with the placement of the 20th century benches.” (Upon which we promptly collapsed.)

Hail and Damnation

On Sunday I bade farewell to India, and flew to Italy to meet my mom for two weeks in Rome, Florence and Venice. It was far from difficult saying goodbye to India – I was ready to be done with all its headaches, and had already left behind the best part of my experience there when I left Dharamsala weeks earlier.

Nevertheless, it’s strange to find myself in Italy sleeping in nice hotels, dining at quaint restaurants, and riding on comfortable trains. We’re on the train to Florence right now, and to be honest I’m struggling with what to write – everything here is just so easy and normal compared to where I’ve been for the last several months. The only really unexpected thing that has happened so far was the freak hailstorm that hit yesterday afternoon, after a day of sunshine and temps in the mid-70s.

We spent the last few days in Rome, and saw the usual assortment of tourist attractions – the Forum, the Colosseum, the Vatican, the Sistine Chapel, Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon. I was pleased when, after a couple days, it really hit my mom that she was in Rome. Having been here a handful of times already myself, I still love the city, but there’s no longer that “holy crap, I’m in Rome!” kind of novelty.

We’re taking things a bit slower than we might have, since my mom tore a ligament in her ankle a few weeks ago. But she’s toughing it out as best she can, especially given that Rome really is a walking city. As are Florence and Venice, for that matter. We took a shot at riding our hotel’s free bikes on the first day, but they were so ill-fitting, we ended up with more aches and pains than if we’d just walked.

Our hotel turned out to be as good as the reviews we’d read. Located in the Trastavere neighborhood, we were away from the noise of the city center, but within a reasonable walk of most of the sights. And in the evenings we had a virtually endless array of restaurants to choose from within blocks of our hotel.

Oh yeah, have I mentioned the food yet? Homemade pasta, genuine Italian pizza, salad (I’m so excited to have salad after two months without fresh veggies in India), bruschetta, delicious cheeses, fresh tomatoes, aromatic basil, creamy tiramisu, real salami, fresh bread… I could go on and on. And don’t even get me started on the wine!

We have a full week ahead of us in Florence, during which we plan to visit some nearby towns, take a wine-tasting tour, and of course see plenty of Florence itself. Hopefully we’ll have a few more colorful experiences to keep my blog entries lively – though I suppose with my return home less than two weeks away, I’d better start getting used to a more “normal” lifestyle.

The songs that get me through

Over the course of this trip, I have been building a playlist on my iPod of songs that help me through difficult times. These moments include everything from deep soul searching to annoyance at the passengers around me on an airplane. It started as the “Rainy Day Road Trip” mix in Vietnam, but has gotten me through much more than that over the last five months. Somehow, when I put my headphones on and press play, my breathing slows, my muscles un-tense, and everything feels a little more manageable.

So for those of you who are interested, here’s the playlist:

• I Don't Care What You Call Me, David Ford
• In the Sun, Joseph Arthur
• Lost Cause, Beck
• Don't Panic, Coldplay
• I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You, Colin Hay
• Fade Into You, Mazzy Star
• Breathe Me, Sia
• The Blowers Daughter, Damien Rice
• Only Talking Sense, Finn Brothers
• Goodnight Moon, Shivaree
• Eyes, Rogue Wave
• Honey and the Moon, Joseph Arthur
• What Can I Say, Brandi Carlile
• New Slang, The Shins
• Wicked Game, Bassboosa
• Into Temptation, Crowded House
• Save Me, Aimee Mann
• Hallelujah, Jeff Buckley
• Miss Misery, Elliott Smith
• The Funeral, Band of Horses
• Love Hurts, Damien Rice
• Days Go By (acoustic version), Dirty Vegas

Click on the song titles to find them on iTunes, or click on the artists to go to their MySpace pages, where you can listen to samples of their songs. I've linked to Amazon.com for bands with no MySpace page, and for the songs that aren't available on iTunes, feel free to e-mail me and I’ll do my best to help you track it down.

The ‘joy’ of Indian airports

Something I most definitely will not miss about India is its airports (or for that matter, all public transportation hubs). But the airports have their own special charm, most notably the overwhelming body odor you encounter at every turn. I won’t even begin to speculate why there seems to be an aversion to deodorant among Indian air travelers, but I swear, at times it’s so strong it’s like a slap in the face. My worst experiences have been at the baggage carousels after long flights.

In all my flying to and around India, I’ve had a chance to sample a few different airlines. Indian Air was the smelliest, but that flight was also the longest, from Thailand.

Kingfisher was the freshest, though they failed to live up to their motto, “Fly the good times.” You can imagine my disappointment when I found out that not only would they not be serving Kingfisher beer (same parent company), but apparently alcohol is banned from all domestic flights in India. Pah.

Sahara Air, which I flew today, lands in the middle of the stink-o-meter, but at least made me laugh with their motto, “Emotionally yours.” Because when I’m checking in for my flight, I don’t want the experience to be efficient or expeditious or even merely effective -– I want it to be emotional.

One plus that all Indian airlines seem to have in common is the meals. Even on a couple-hour flight between normal meal times (say, 3-5pm), they serve a hot meal. I wish U.S.-based airlines would get back on that bandwagon, instead of literally laughing in your face if you merely inquire if a meal will be served.

Some like it hot (just not me)

Today I ventured to the nearby town of Anjuna for the Wednesday flea market. The market started in the '60s when visiting backpackers started selling of their possessions to fund their continued travels.

I was only able to tolerate the heat for an hour and a half before I caved and went back to the cool sanctuary of my hotel room. Not that I was finding the experience particularly enjoyable anyway, what with the aggressive tactics of the street vendors.

Meanwhile, earlier this week I ventured out to try a French restaurant that got good reviews in my guidebook, but had been closed over Easter weekend. It turned out the owner hadn’t reopened as planned because he just couldn’t work in this heat. You know it’s bad when even the locals think it’s too hot!

But hey, at least my tan is coming along nicely.

More R&R in Vagator

Yesterday I moved a little further north to Vagator, a small beach town in northern Goa. On the way I chatted at length with my driver, who told me about Goa’s history under Portuguese rule, which only ended about 40 years ago, after which Goa became part of India. That’s why so much of the population here is catholic, and this weekend are celebrating Easter (which means many restaurants and shops are closed).

Vagator is much more quaint and charming than Colva, with small beaches surrounded by palm tree-studded cliffs. The town is smaller and it’s much less crowded here, though unfortunately just as hot and humid. I’ve developed a routine of spending my days indoors or at the pool, and venturing out in the evenings after the sun has gone down to visit local restaurants and shops.

I’m staying at the Leoney Resort, which is very nice with a pool, cute cottages and lovely grounds. The only down side is that it’s a 5-10 minute walk to the beach, so I fall asleep to the sound of the air conditioner instead of ocean waves.

Back to the beach

This week I’m in Colva, a small beach town on the coast of Goa (a southern Indian state). I can tell I’m still in India by the food and the usual assortment of rickshaw drivers and shop owners pestering me whenever I’m out and about. But thankfully the begging is much less here, and for the most part I’m left alone except when I walk into the main part of town.

The beach here doesn’t begin to live up to those in Thailand, but it’s still nice to look at from my hotel balcony, and there’s a lovely hammock downstairs where I can enjoy the ocean breezes and the sound of the surf. It’s very hot and humid though, so it’s hard to get motivated to do much  more than that.

I’m here for the next week and half, though I may move to a different part of Goa this weekend if I can find a decent hotel at decent price (which is harder than you’d imagine – most everything is either $20 or below and a dump, or $200 and above, with not much in between). Either way, I doubt I’ll have a lot to blog about beyond lunches overlooking the ocean, but I should have plenty to share after the 15th when I meet my Mom in Italy.