Getting there
So having turned the wrong direction coming out of the business lounge in Singapore, G and I found ourselves running to the plane to Paris. We arrived at the gate breathless, then were told Peter’s seat had gremlins and needed to be fixed. The end result was we were moved in business class to just outside the toilets. Admittedly not as foul as cattle class, (a better quality poo I imagine), but still got to examine a vast collection of ‘hurry up I’m busting’ jigs from around the globe as punters clenched whatever they could waiting their turn. Paris in a couple of hours thank the lord.
Paris
Contemplating Paris with the first day almost done. A two hour drive from the airport for a total of 30 ks set the scene. First impressions; lots of cool old buildings, nice looking cafes, quaint laneways. But…. Filthy dirty streets, and drizzling rain. We can only hope and pray tomorrow is sunshine and good times.
We scooted around Paris on foot all day today after a traditional breakfast of loverly croissants. We said hello to a few more icons before preparing for Rodin and Louvre tomorrow. The streets were damp, the atmosphere cold and uninviting despite working with reasonable temps of 5 to 12.
Finding ourselves absolutely buggered tonight from doing laps of the city. Dropped in on Rodin today to see how he did things. Fairly typical Frenchman as far as we could see. Mad as a cut snake, with a few women to keep him company and still managed to get paid for interesting work. We learned later his next door neighbour was Napoleon the second and his mum.
The Louvre ( definitely pronounced Louv rrrrre apparently) was a hit. We felt individually loved as one of 19 million to visit each year. Our guide was hoot. With a master’s in French history, and about 26 languages up her sleeve, she made our visit a cracking good three hours. To top of a good day we also had about 200 horses head down the road in some sort of parade to make the day a special one.
With a must do trip to Versailles on the cards, today we scrambled out of bed, trudged 40 minutes to the bus meeting point. It was stupid cold yet invigorating. Not seeing a bus we got sceptical and soon learned why. Our indigenous French guide, all the way from Poland, handed out our train tickets. As we followed her little red flag along the Metro platform, we felt like we were in kindy again. Arriving in Versailles, we were greeted with an over the top expression of elegance and pure waste of money. It’s no wonder the people loped the heads off Louis the some-number and his bride if they spent all the cash on this place. Actually the story goes that their relatives spent the money, they just copped the beheading. Watch out Albo this could be coming your way soon! After a super crowded tour with the guide going through the motions we were set free. Thank god. Another 25th century masterpiece and we would have slept standing up. Lesson; don’t do this place after the Louvrrrre! It’s like hopping out of your Bugatti into a Hilux ute. We found a bakery at half Paris prices, scoffed down some swirly things, took a pic of the bus that might have been and headed home. Not before a crepe or two.
Well if yesterday was cold, today was freezing. Freezing then wet and freezing then sleet, and a bit of hail freezing.
We had a late breakfast opposite Notre Dame that came close to killing us. How hard is an omelette for god sake?
The highlight of the day came next with a visit to St Etienne’s cathedral. This is where the crypt of St Genevieve is located. Inside was beyond magnificent. The story of St G the same. Our G posed eloquently on the steps of her very own cathedral realising a dream come true.
Later we battled the dropping temps to visit, what was for us the least cool icon of Paris, being the Eiffel Tower. Big but not impressive. We did however begin new careers as photographers as it appeared we were the only ones who knew the vertical Panno trick to capture tall subjects with mobile phones.
Dinner was a sublime pizza with a backdrop of the Louvre. Off to Dubrovnik early tomorrow.
Croatia:
Dubrovnik:
Out of bed really early we said goodbye to Paris and jumped on the well-used Air France plane to Dubrovnik. The last half hour was like the final round of a bull riding event at a local rodeo. For a while there we didn’t think we’d ride the full 8 seconds in one piece. Safely grounded we mindlessly followed the guys in front through the terminal. Didn’t realise they only had hand luggage, so we found ourselves with our greeter outside the security area having forgotten to pick up our bags. Now apparently it is a small misdemeanour to go back into an airport the same way we exited! We know that now after the cranky man told us repeatedly, ‘it has taken a picture, now I have to write’. We remained silent and respectful admitting we were in fact dim wits, so he let us back in. Lesson learned. We were however, fleetingly imagining what type of cuisine they served in Croatian prisons.
Off to the hotel we went in a spanking Mercedes driven by a 45 year veteran of the Croatian military and police including years in the Balkan war. He showed us the hills he fought in just behind Dubrovnik. Humbling.
The hotel and view was breathtaking. This part of town is stunning with quiet cafes and bars. G found a gin and tonic at the only bar that does not sell food. So glad we chose now to come here. Only 8 flights a day coming in. In summer it’s 90! We almost had the place to ourselves.
Today we headed off on bus number 4 to the Dubrovnik old town. Holy big stone walls Batman, this place smokes. We were blown away by the majesty of the town completely surrounded by walls with building beginning in the 12th century and lasting 500 years. We walked the entire city perimeter atop the walls, bouncing between ‘oh my god that’s spectacular’ and ‘oh my god this is so high I have a little bit of wee running down my leg’. Our afternoon was a bit lazy with G having wine and Peter going for a bush walk. The walk turned out to be a find a disused war tunnel walk. The hills were filled with them, so foot placement was critical, given there are likely a few unexploded devices still around. Off to Montenegro tomorrow.
Montenegro:
Our day trip to Montenegro was brilliant. We drove into the hills through border checks, because they are not EU mates, before checking out The Lady of the Rocks church on an island. Somewhere in there we dropped down into the City of Kotor, then into the old town surrounded by 12th century stone walls. G found an historic leather maker and grabbed a new jacket. Actually we think it was a bogus dealer using stolen lamb hide from Pakistan, but once she wears it a few times, no one will be able to tell. Then to a winery for food wine and a gut ache for P.
Split
Picked up at the hotel at 11am today was mostly a transport leg. We headed north towards Split for three or so hours looking at incredible coastlines and mountains. We saw the first snow covered landscape in the distance at one point. Finally we arrived in Split to our beautiful hotel. In the old town it is recently restored . It turns out Split is a long way from being as nice as Dubrovnik. Just doesn’t have the feel but does have every high end fashion shop known to man, woman. We lunched, walked and relaxed in the bitter cold.
Today we spent with a guide headed to Trogir. Another old town with walls, it spent its hay day shit scarred of the Turks over the hill and the pirates off the coast. All until Napoleon came along and beat the crap out of everyone. We then endured a history walk of Split that took us under the Castle to an area built in 305AD. We lucked upon preparations for a massive flower show so got the whole treatment. We finished with a viewing of a church dating back 1900 years complete with its stolen pillars and 3500 year old stolen Sphinx. Gotta love the Catholics. More than a few Hail Mary’s said over that affair I reckon. We ended the day with a walk up the hill behind the city in search of some lovely spots on the Dalmatian Coast.
With the same guide as yesterday, we choofed off to Sebinik and the Krka National Park. Sebinik, pronounced Scheninik because it’s got a little thing above the S, was a smashing little city with, you guessed it, an old town and big bad walls. It is also one of the rich and famous hang outs in summer. The national park is pretty much just a cracking waterfall and a bit of pre BC infrastructure including a water driven grinding mill. Our evening was full of entertainment as the Croatians were playing the French just up the street in soccer. No wonder they have soccer violence; the game starts at 9.30pm, so the fans were drinking and singing since early afternoon. What could go wrong? Still for us it was fun.
Plitvice Lakes:
A late breaky at our cafe next door had us fed for the three hour trip from Split to Plitvice Lakes. Our driver was a nice bloke but preferred passenger silence and listening to ABBA played by a philharmonic orchestra. Arriving mid-afternoon, our promised high end hotel…….wasn’t. Apparently all the amenities like outdoor gym, pool etc open in May. We had a late lunch, P went bushwalking. No unexploded ordinances this time, only a group of giggling young girls hogging the trail. Give me a bomb any day. Croatia won the footy last night, so everyone is happy today.
Driven in luxury to the park entrance we attacked the Plitvice Lakes National Park. We managed to keep our spot in front of the pushy bloke on our left and slide in a minute ahead of the big group from a continent north of ours, intent on taking selfies. We walked, we boated, we absolutely froze, and we walked some more. But mostly we stood in awe at the show nature put on. It was simply stunning.
Opatija:
Mid-afternoon we jumped in the flash Mercedes driven by Philip and headed to Opatija. Our hotel room overlooked a magnificent bay; if only the fog would go away so we could see it. In Opatija today for a day of relaxation and sightseeing. Short story is we went for three walks and got saturated each time. Probably a nice place in the sunshine. We did go to Roko restaurant for lunch having incredible risotto and pasta. As usual there was so much food dinner was a cup of tea.
Italy:
Venice
The clouds were heavy, dark and full of rain. Then they went. Our predicted very wet day of travel to Venice was a stunning day of sunshine. Our driver was a talker and a total crack up. He kept us entertained as we zoomed through Slovenia then into the flat lands of Italy.
Soon enough we jumped aboard the flash canal boat in Venice on our way to our accommodation. Then we dragged our bags across St Mark’s square, up the cobbles, up the steep stairs and into our lovely old room. The remainder of the day we spent looking at shops, dodging crowds and getting lost. We called it a day when G reached that ‘if one more person bumps into me, I’ll flog them senseless’ stage, but not before she rounded up a new wallet and a couple of set of new shoes. As for Peter, let’s just say Venice needs to lose only two things to be a great place…..people and shops!!! Otherwise it’s cool.
Venice on our second day continued to set the bar low a mostly failed to clear it. A recommended three island tour turned out to be a hideous waste of time and money. Always the trooper, G stood tall and rustled up a purchase at the Murano glass factory, then followed it up with a scarf as well. The afternoon got better as we walked well away from the city and found a locals café, got a snack before lucking upon the best prawn pasta we have ever eaten at a canal side restaurant. Hopefully tomorrow will bring some good moments so we don’t leave totally disappointed.
So finally Venice delivered. We chanced upon a great breakfast at a random cafe then began walking. About 14km later we had left the City behind and discovered the back streets where only the brave or lost go. We had a cracking good time in sunshine, hardly any crowds and a few swanky galleries. G scored a fancy jacket and Peter a jumper. Dinner at our now favourite place and life is good. And to top off a good day, we finally found The Merchant of Venice!!
Fun fact; the Gondola drivers earn 3000 euros per week.
Well what a day. We were out of bed early so we didn’t miss the train to Bologna. Overachieving meant we had scoffed breakfast, taken a ferry ride and still had 90 mins left to wait. Paying a few quid extra for a business class seat was worth it. We were fed and entertained. Pity the entertainment was a very woke south Australian mother explaining male gender stereotypes to her brat child.
Bologna
Bologna appeared soon enough with its grey skies and governmenty drab buildings. It seemed to have about the same number of dress shops that Venice has bag shops. Indeed, one was an entire premises of just lipstick ‘far cheaper than at home’.
Lunch was average with only seven brokers of umbrellas attempting to lure unused euro from our clutches. The eighth was going to be bashed by the umbrella we already had.
Afternoon drinks were an episode of faulty towers gone bad.
Entering the bar at the hotel we spotted Basil the manager sitting idle in the corner addressing his phone. After a bit Manuel appeared complete with black eye. We ordered drinks and sat quietly. After a while they appeared. Basil was motionless. As people traipsed in Basil finally leapt to his feet and all hell broke loose. Manuel disappeared presumably to be the cook. The pizza we ordered arrived . Our request to set the table such that we had half a chance of eat the food was met by less than eager cooperation. Our plates came . Our cutlery did not. Upon further request resplendent knives and forks lobbed up. Two knives for G and two forks for Peter! All the while Basil was scooting around managing things but achieving bugger all. By now we were prepared to pay good money for the show but decided to retire and await the next episode.
Better luck tomorrow.
Who would have thought that the staff at the famed Ducati factory would so closely align to their equally famed product. But they are. Both failing to work at the most inconvenient time!! A couple of hours trying to get anyone to answer their phone finally led to the realisation that the Ducati workers were on strike and Peters eagerly awaited tour would be replaced be a few hours exploring Bologna in the cold and sometimes drizzle. Not all bad, we discovered a fantastic lunch spot that served an indigenous Italian dish of fried chicken wings. After pasta and pizza almost every day we were in heaven. Our afternoon was spent quietly with Peter trying to stay on top of his usual holiday cold/flu. After last night’s episode we just had to visit Basil and Manuel again. Not sure why but Basil took one look at us, grabbed his backpack and headed out never to be seen again. Manuel had been replaced by at least his father, but maybe even grandad who spoke English as well as we stumbled across Italian. Lucky we all understood wine, coke and pizza. Tomorrow we tackle the multi-level Bologna train station and head to Florence.
Florence
Being just a little nervous about Italian trains we arrived way early at the station. We found the right platform and listened intently for any possible schedule changes. Yes our train was running 35 mins late. No problem. G suggested I look on the opposite side platform as her intuition reckoned something was wrong. Ok our train had changed platforms with no notification. No problem. Hang on that looks like our train with doors shutting. Peter ran his version of flat out to the official standing by the one open door. Showing our tickets he asked if this was the right train. In short grumpy man said it was as he snarled at us in the most unhappy voice. Half an hour later we popped up at Florence and were at our hotel 10 minutes hence. We took a walk to Pont Vecchio for 20 odd minutes then turned around and headed 30 minutes in the opposite direction to the Pont Vecchio!! There is absolutely no way of finding bearings in this place. The crowds are ridiculous. Every street has hundreds of marketeers all selling leather goods. So every street looks the same as the last. Still, Florence is everything Bologna wasn’t. The buildings are next level stunning. We found two leather jackets we can grab as a pair for a price you have to steal them for, from a reputable shop near our hotel. Maybe…..
Sunday in Florence appears to be a very busy day. We decided that we would jump online and grab a ticket to see the Statue of David. Try as we might online, acquisition was impossible. Not deterred, as it was still early we rocked up in person to buy a ticket at the entrance. If we took a conservative estimate and divided by three there was still over 1000 waiting to go in. We decided Dave would have to wait till another time to say g’day. No half naked man will make us wait that long.
So it became a day of walking away from the city centre guided by the recommendation of the lovely lady in a restaurant. We headed to the Piazzale Michelangelo on top of a massive hill overlooking all of Florence. We finally got to see the Tuscan hills and snow on distant mountains. We shared the experience with not more than 2000 of our closest friends. Not deterred we visited the must see rose garden, Today it was just a garden; not a rose to be seen. G charged off up a hill beside the old town wall. It soon became a veritable mountain leading to stunning laneways and villas of the rich and presumably famous. We walked forever turning back only when we saw the border gate of the next country!! We quickly found a steep track that dropped us out not far from town. Finally making the decision, G grabbed herself a beautiful green lamb leather jacket and Peter followed up with another sacrificial baby sheep in brown. Dinner was a stab in the dark but served us some of best risotto and pork chops imaginable. More walking tomorrow; we still reckon Dave has done his dash so it may be a gallery or the like.
Still reeling from last night’s embarrassment of dropping a few euros into to the hat of an incredible opera singing busker only to learn he was lip sinking, we toddled off to see the town. First entertainment was watching a tour guide doing random circles holding his flag high looking for his flock only to find none. We determined the poor old bugger was probably in the wrong spot or town. Then we headed to the Ferragamo museum. Well ‘holy fancy footwear Batman’ this place was amazing. An entire history of this bloke and his designs was on display. G got in free by pulling the age card, whilst Peter was unfairly discriminated against for being younger. We were blown away by how good this place was.
Then, with hopes bursting, we both paid to see the Gucci museum. Absolutely no words could do this place justice. It started with a video completely unrelated to anything Gucci which was basically a young woman describing in explicit detail (every possible detail) having sex with an imaginary lover. Then there were a few ghastly handbags on display and not much else. We both left in disgust vowing never to buy anything Gucci again. Peter then found a cracking set of shoes so added them to the quiver. Our afternoon was spent at a roof top bar promising the best possible views of Florence. We can tell you the red roof tiles and rusting air conditioners make for a unique vista but that’s about it. Some people desperately need to visit the Coolum Surf Club to get perspective on what a good outlook is. The day ended at a favourite restaurant with a new waiter who was obviously Manuel’s cousin!! Off to Siena tomorrow.
Siena
Congratulations all round today for we caught the correct train to the correct destination and ultimately emerged to the comparatively desolate sidewalk of Siena. A quick taxi ride and we were 50 steep metres from our old, refurbished and quirky accommodation. We were presented with three keys to unlock a maze of doors leading to our room. A step outside let us know today was about 10 degrees lower than yesterday on the verge of uncomfortably cold. We spent the afternoon getting to know Siena. We now know it’s steep. Everything is a hill. We have a completely marble church outside our front door. And it has shops. Its saving grace is that it has hardly any people! Tomorrow we will try to organise a tour of the countryside for a look at a couple of the villages.
Feeling like a floppy bag of crap after not training much since we left home, Peter jumped out of bed early and headed to the cathedral steps just outside our front door. After ten sprints up and down coupled with a few other hill ascents, he left his lungs somewhere on the streets of Siena. Later on we decided to spend 21 euro on a tour of the cathedral because we needed yet another cathedral tour in our lives. The best 21 ever spent. We ended up climbing to almost the tallest point of the structure via tiny spiral staircases to the best view of Tuscany in all directions. They called it the Gates of Heaven tour, and they were not far wrong. To top it off we then dropped to the dungeons underneath to view 12th century wall paintings and a grave with a see through glass top. Our afternoon was spent looking leading us to another bag shop and custom made shoe shop.
Today ended up being a cracker. Peter did the, ‘get fit stair climbing’ thing again, learning that Italians don’t much like saying g’day to strangers running past at dawn. Strange!
Our driver, Kosmo, being a quality immigrant from Romania, was the perfect guide. He knew the area, history and politics of Italy and his homeland; educating us well.
We headed out of Siena to Monteriggioni and San Gimignano. The first a beautiful tiny walled village measuring three steps wide by six long. The vistas from the top of the walls of the countryside was postcard perfect. The second was probably more beautiful, sitting high upon a hill dominating the landscape. Downside, you guessed it, shops and people.
After a walk around we headed literally two minutes to a very small family owned vineyard (correctly pronounced ‘wine yard’ according to Philippe the head bloke). What an experience. Even being a non-drinker Peter loved the details of how they made their small selection of high end wines. G tasted and tasted……a lot.
Lunch was cooked by Nona, and oh what a grand feed it was. Pasta, pork and potatoes followed by ice cream. We spent the later afternoon doing our club seal impersonations whilst the food finally settled. A good day.
Today, being our last full day on Siena was a pretty slack arrangement. We’d seen all we needed to, so set sail for a barber. We lucked upon old mate who spoke as much English as Peter did Italian. What looked like being a haircut only a mother could love, turned out to be a more than decent affair. G did a bit more shopping. Peter found the boot maker again, but he was not open. A quick web search proved there is a god as the old fellas’ hand stitched masterpieces apparently start at 900 euros escalating to 1600 and take 3 months to make. Not sure they were ever in our ballpark, but they were spectacular. We ended up outside the old town on top of yet another city wall as spectacular as ever. Tomorrow we head to Rome and whatever that brings.
Rome
Two mostly on time trains delivered us to Rome by mid-afternoon. We no wasted time in realising Rome is not that different from Paris. The river area near our hotel could be considered a near enough copy, if not a perfect one. Our planned guided tour of Castel Sant Angelo with a mob called Get Your Guide turned out to be a disappointment with Forget Your Guide. The guide was an app on our phones that didn’t work. Still we climbed a lot of steps, took lots of photos and generally got our bearings. After having the best pizza and ham and cheese toasted at the Siena rail station in the morning, we learned that Rome has as its signature dish absolutely disgusting desert. We walked off that swill in some beautiful alleys leading back to the hotel for a well needed rest. Tomorrow it’s the something gallery but a mere 60 minute walk away.
We headed out reasonably early today for the almost hour walk to the Borghese Gallery tour. We got there early, then waited and waited; met our fellow tour mates, waited, messaged the tour company and waited. Finally a crazy Italian lady turned up and we were away. Not that we like people being late, but the crazy lady almost made the experience worth it. She was quintessentially Italian with added flare and a very passionate art historian who knew all there was to know about the Borghese family. Short story is they were filthy rich then stopped working so became poor and had to sell everything. So all the brilliant works on display are copies of the real things now in private collection across world.
We then headed to a roof top bar for a snack before trying to see the Trevi Fountain and Spanish steps. Pretty much a sea of people prevented but a glimpse of either, before it was time to revert to the sanity of the hotel. We found a cracker of a restaurant for dinner where we watched the world go by. Up early tomorrow to battle the Catholics at the Vatican.
Out of bed way earlier than usual today, we walked in four degrees to the Vatican. Unlike our last tour, the guide was there, we had time for a coffee, croissant and nervous pee. In the half hour before we entered, the crowd went from a few stragglers to an ocean of hopefuls. Thank had we had a tour. The parts we saw were not that crowded, save the Sistine Chapel that was packed to the rafters. We even got to see into the room where they hold the Conclave and select a new Pope. Tour over we had some of the worst pizza at the Vatican cafe (no wonder the pope was sick recently) before heading to St Peter’s square. We got within a couple of hundred metres before deciding to battle the heard was just not worth it for anything. Just for our friend Michelle, G went dress shopping and found one of the shops you mentioned with two young models outside wearing the product. She’ll buy one tomorrow.
Last night we ended up have dinner at this cool little place that served its food in a thick pocket bread. Gs’ chicken and Peter’s slow cooked meat equivalent were splendid. The highly recommend gelato around the corner was its equal. We walked home with Peter only nearly getting run over once by an animated lady waving her arms madly.
Today we headed over towards the Colosseum to have a look before our tour of the Roman Forum later on. We climbed some stairs to the best cathedral of the entire trip, and it was free! We had an outside look at the Colosseum as the crowds were ridiculous before lunching at a nice haven away from the madness. Once again tour group Forget Your Guide let us down. The promises on their website when we selected our tour simply didn’t eventuate. Our completely self-guided tour of the Roman Forum was however quite magnificent. Getting up high to overlook the ruins was worth the climb. Thankfully tomorrow we leave the crowds behind to venture out of town to a restaurant owned by a friend of a great friend at a town with a forgotten name.
Holy shit! Just realised it was our King Charles and Carmila who dropped in to the Colosseum when we were there today. We wondered who the old bloke was who kept waving to us. Bugger, was looking forward to saying g’day to Charlie.
What a fantastic day…. Eventually!! With the totality of our tasks today being to catch a train and have lunch, we were immediately challenged. We caught the train, got off where we needed to, caught the next train ( read the wrong train going in the completely wrong direction) and ended up in a lonely little station somewhere in the Italian countryside with no help evident. Retracing our steps we got back to the point of geographic confusion, caught another train and somehow got to Castel Gandolfo for lunch. This place is the summer residence of the Pope, but he was not on our train today. We climbed 400m up a steep hill to a restaurant called Pagnanelli. It’s been in the same family since 1882. The owner, Gabriele, is a friend of a friend. We were treated royally having some scrumptious food overlooking a stunning volcanic lake. To top it off, we got a tour of the 15000 bottle wine cellar lined with tools and trinkets gathered throughout the history of the restaurant. Getting home was easier with only one train to catch. We sit with full bellies after a great day. Tomorrow’s challenge, two more trains!
Cinque Terre
Being a travel day, today was pretty average for the most part. We taxied, we trained, we missed a train by literally one second. Not kidding we had our finger on the green door opening button when it turned red and the step retracted. Ten minutes later we were on track again with a manic Australian lady with two the biggest suitcases you could imagine. Off at Riomaggorie for our Cinque Terre adventure, we elected to taxi to our hotel. I think the meter is wired for altitude as a 1.6 km trip cost 15 euro. We were happy to pay as the walk up was quite a bit steeper than vertical. Our hotel is brilliant. We literally look down on everything. Given lunch had alluded us we decided upon an early dinner. Google told us the cafe we desired was but a couple of hundred metres away, so off we went. Almost an hour later we had been all the way back down to see level and back again only to figure Google’s doesn’t easily understand when locations are on top of each other. No exaggeration, that’s how steep it is. We finally chanced upon our cafe and the food was outstanding as was the entertainment from the owner’s little girl playing with her dog. Cold set in so we headed back to the hotel for tea and sleep. But not before accidentally whatsapping Peter’s sister at stupid o’clock Queensland time. Sorry Bron!!
How do we describe today. Frankly no words can come close but here goes. Now being locals we managed to find our way from Up Town to Down Town pretty easily. We jagged a few times before locating the coastal walking track between Riomaggorie and Manarola. Producing our passes, the lovely lady told us they were passes to everything except the track we wanted to walk on!! Back to the 20 deep line at the information office we went.
Now with passes in hand we were off. The track traced the coastline being stunning as it perched 60 or so metres above the water. To top it off we spent a bit of time watching a Helicopter deliver goods to the centre of Manarola from a base built into the cliff face near us. We had a leisurely breakfasts in Manarola before setting off on the equally stunning coastal path to Corniglia. Finally finding the track, we found ourselves high above town on a narrow dirt offering leading closer to the water. After half an hour or so we came to a closed track due to landslides. With no options left we climbed back up, found the alternate track and carried on. Within ten minutes we were both grasping blades of grass, grape vines, small children; whatever it took to stay stuck to the mountainside now hundreds of metres above the clear waters of the Ligurian Sea, full of nasty rocks just waiting for a tourist to fall. It is no exaggeration to say there may have been just a little bit of wee dribbling down at one stage. And this, as we found out, was not the steep or high part!! Up we went. We climbed rock stairs for the best part of a week before finally popping out at a small village for a well-earned Cornetto. We yarned to Stuart and Stuart’s wife who had moved from Melbourne to France to live because she they could not stand Daniel Andrews. They reckon they love it.
On we went again grabbing grape vines to stay hillside before plummeting down a slippery, rocky track into Corniglia for a pretty crappy lunch. Homeward bound we jumped the train back to Manarola then repeated the coastal walk. Because last night was so good, we returned to the same restaurant for dinner then collapsed. Our walk tomorrow is apparently harder than today, God help us.
Dinner at our favourite restaurant below our accommodation with our new American friends, rounded out yet another great day in Cinque Terre. We said goodbye to the owners with a bit of sadness as they had helped make this place a winner.
Our morning started with a train ride to Monterosso with the intention of waking back to Vernazza then to Corniglia, finishing the day with a train ride back home.
Monterosso turned out to be a lovely seaside place, just waking up. We had a grouse breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast before heading off on the walking trail.
The advice that this trail was much harder than yesterday’s was not at all true, but the initial 400 metres of steps straight up the mountain still stung the legs. The track was busy and not as picturesque as yesterday. We continued to marvel at the way these slopes are farmed with only a flimsy toothed monorail every now and then used to carry stuff up and down. Dropping down into Vernazza proved popular opinion to be spot on. It is truly beautiful. It did however contain thousands of one of the two great evils…..people! Thankfully the shops were so trashy not even G entered but one with any intent.
By now we were spent. We had no intention of climbing the mountains again so opted for the train back to Riomaggorie. Tomorrow we head to Santa Margherita for a couple of nights.
Santa Margherita
In a major turn of events we were out early catching trains like pros, not missing one on the way to Santa Margherita. For once the Italian equivalent of the BOM was spot on with the prediction of rain. It rained all day.
We braved the wet streets of Santa Margherita learning they were dominated by restaurants and fancy dress shops. This all made sense when we noticed every second car was a Ferrari, Lamborghini or Audi R8 all headed to Portofino just down the track. We intend to walk or catch the bus tomorrow to see how the high class holiday.
Not sure this place will be on the ‘come back and see’ list as it is essentially pretty second hand with its blue/grey stone beaches. Hopefully tomorrow changes our minds.
With the intention of walking to Portofino this morning, we woke to rain with the forecast of more throughout the day. Off to the information hub we headed to grab a ferry ticket. Greeted by Basil’s younger sister, we were quickly dismissed with flick of the hand towards the ferry terminal. Off we went to be met by a sign that clearly demonstrated why punctuation is so important. In hand scribble it said, ‘Cancelled for group tours only’. No dramas, we were nothing like a group tour. Soon enough we realised a comma dropped in the right place would have given us the true meaning. We were not joining the boating fraternity today!!
Back to the information hub. G’s turn this time. After a fair time she came out in fits. Apparently amongst all the mayhem of Basil’s sister trying her hardest to get rid of filthy tourists, an old lady’s chihuahua decided to bite the hell out of the leg of the bloke ahead in the line. For G it was right up there with her favourite Monty Python dead parrot skit. We relived it many times throughout the day.
Finally we got to Portofino by bus. How to describe this place. It’s pretty in a one shot postcard sort of way. It’s got a few very high end clothing shops. It’s tiny beyond belief and engages the mind for a little more than three minutes! The attraction is difficult to find.
After an average lunch we walked back to our hotel. Despite it raining for most of the time, the walk was quite lovely along the rugged coastline.
G took two trips to a shop to buy some ‘must have pants’ she had spied yesterday, but alas Mondays were their day off. God knows what she will wear now. The wardrobe is bare. We are off to Bellagio tomorrow by bus then train. What could possibly go wrong?
Bellagio
With practice comes efficiency and perfection. This morning both came together so well we caught a bus and arrived on the correct platform at the rail station an hour and a bit early for our train!!
The next couple of hours we zoomed through multiple tunnels and the Italian countryside finally arriving at the Milan train station. Holy God, this place is a city unto itself. It’s massive. Finding our way out was a difficult assignment. Luckily we did so, landing not 30m from our driver waiting to take us to Bellagio.
Giovanni was worth the price. Being a local to the Como, Lecco, Bellagio area, he gave us a history lesson, language lesson and quality tips for visits.
The words “after this tunnel the road becomes very small. Small and curved. OK for me but not maybe for you”, had hardly left Giovanni’s lips and our day changed.
A truck coming towards us and the taxi van in front of us realised they could not pass. What followed was a comedy. Our driver cursing the taxi driver ‘from Milano’ who can’t drive, followed by the mad scooter lady who overtook us almost head on into the truck, followed by her reversing almost hitting our car, the car in front reversing in zig zags; all the while our bloke out of the car trying to direct everyone. We could not have made this up.
Finally underway the scooter lady in front of us was so bad at riding we all thought she would meet an imminent death. Not wishing to see that, Giovanni pulled an F1 overtaking manoeuvre like no other to set us free.
Our hotel in Bellagio is stunning. We have our own three balconies and reading room overlooking Lake Como. The town is small but littered with dress, silk and handbag shops. For G things are not all bad. Tomorrow we head across the lake on the slow ferry that is apparently quicker than the fast ferry because it goes there direct. We are starting to learn how the Italians think.
Following a nice breakfast at our hotel, we headed off to the ferry intent on a leisurely cruise across to Varena. Truth was we mucked up our timings just a bit and found ourselves stepping on to the ferry at the last minute.
The 20 minutes on the lake revealed stunning scenery as the clouds put on one hell of a show against the mountains.
Varena is spectacular. Simple as that. The buildings, the scenery and the apple cake are unmatched. Especially the apple cake!!
After spending most of the day there we lined up for our ferry ticket from Varena back home. You guessed it, we ended up running to jump on just as the boom gate started closing and the ramp started rising. We are getting really good at this.
Back at Bellagio we took advice on a dinner venue. It did not disappoint…..until.
Peter, after four weeks of trying has finally nailed it with coffee. Order a macchiato and you get cup with a decent volume of usually like warm liquid pretending to be a decent coffee. Not tonight.
I think they mistook what was asked. The cup was the tiniest we have ever seen. Picture a toddlers tea set then halve it! We had no option but to laugh. Water is beginning to taste so good.
Waking up this morning we were convinced we would have to cancel our plans or just get wet; really wet. It was pouring rain. The clouds were sitting on the lake. The scenery had run to hide.
Putting on our big boy and girl pants we boarded the slow boat to Lenno via San Giovanni. As we bobbed along all was quite peaceful until the 1950s, drive in theatre, style speakers crackled to life at 3000 decibels. ‘San Giovanni, San Giovanni, San Giovanni’ they belted out. Well levitation is a thing. Everyone on the boat leapt off their seat. We suspect the apprentice copped a slap from the captain for that was the last time any stop was announced.
We guessed our stop well followed by trapsing 20 minutes up hill to the spectacular gardens of a villa formally owned by Italian mountaineer Mr Monzino. Other than wanting to poison the ‘teenage girl posing for a picture’ weed that popped up absolutely everywhere, we had a great time amongst stunning surroundings.
The visit chewed up a bit more time than expected, but did not stop us discovering one of the best lunch spots of our trip beside the lake.
With our plans to visit Villa Carlotta but 37 minutes’ walk away, we headed off. We found the villa, photographed the villa, oohed and aaahed at the Villa then boarded the boat for home.
Not 5 minutes into the journey we pulled up at a ferry terminal directly outside Villa Carlotta!! We have no idea what the villa was we had visited earlier.
We headed home and up to a bag shop to grab a decent sling over for Peter. He will look might fancy in his jacket, boots and man bag back home.
Tomorrow we ferry to Varena, then train to Milan for two days.
Milan
We packed early today. Indeed to ensure no running to catch the ferry, Peter went down early to the ticket office (the same one where we had previously obtained tickets for the same ferry) to grab tickets. In a truly Italian way he was told that we don’t sell those tickets here. You must go 200m to the other ticket office. Sometimes you just have to say thank you and move on.
We were way early for our train to Milan, finally jumping on board from a platform not more than a metre wide at Varena.
Milan train station was manic as usual, but we somehow chose the correct exit into the arms of a loverly honest taxi driver.
Our afternoon was spent getting to know the area. We found some iconic buildings; dodged punters carrying brand name fashion bags and met a squirrel.
We figure we must be missing home just a bit as G mistook a bright red and yellow Lego carry bag for a Vegemite bag and got all excited!
Tomorrow we’ll have a look at the Cathedral nearby and put in a few foot miles discovering Milan.
Bit of a boring day today in Milan. An early morning walk, if 9am is early, revealed almost empty streets with not much happening. We visited another cathedral then another. Tried to get in to see The Last Supper but were about 6 months late with getting tickets. We started preparing for the trip home; packing what we could. We are going to try to drop in to the Duomo tomorrow. See how we go.
Well our last day in Italy was a pretty good one. We started with a visit to the Duomo mainly to take photos without crowds with the intention of later going to mass at 9.30.
We saw a line up at the entrance so decided it was going to be a huge 9.30 turnout. We joined the line hoping our bladders would survive the cold wet day, 90 minute wait, then the Easter mass.
Luck was with us. We somehow joined an unadvertised early service. So got straight in and underway.
Being Catholics we pretty much knew the way things worked, although the church foundations trembled a bit as we entered for it had been a while for both of us. Thankfully the bloke in front of us was a polished regular so we just followed him as the only word we understood was Amen.
The entire magnificent structure was filled with ‘no photos’ signs yet at the conclusion of a beautiful service two people just had to chance their luck. Well Gods angles come in all forms. Filled with a fresh dose of goodness, today it was G!! In one swift move she slid through the crowd and stood steadfast directly in front of their cameras till the idiots finally realised they were dealing with a higher power and desisted.
We then headed west, or it could have been east, to see a canal. After 50 minutes of walking we realised we had failed as had Google so retreated as the rain came in.
We scoffed a lunch at our now favourite restaurant before heading back to the hotel to finish packing .
We again visited our favourite restaurant that sits beside a tram track. Apparently Milan are playing a game of football tonight so we witnessed tram after tram pull up so packed not one person could squeeze on. The one in the pic is the last one we saw, almost empty!
Our dinner was again great with our waiter telling us our order before we asked. He gave G an extra huge wine. Thankfully one she loved. Then made two of the best coffees of the trip on the house. Peter took one for the team drinking both (G hates coffee) to balance the books where the same happened with terrible wine in Cinque Terre and G had to drink both.
Can’t say we are looking forward to 24 hrs of travel, but home is going to be so sweet.