First stop, ROME.
I can’t tell you why, but I wasn’t expecting to get real excited about this city, but then I went to the Colosseum and everything changed. I mean, how could I not like Rome? It’s my kind of city. Grand. Outgoing. Hedonistic. I can’t imagine anyone have an in between opinion about this city. Either you like it or you don’t.
Oh and look, my house is just next door.
I stayed three nights in Rome, and fortunately, since I was staying in a hostel that made connecting with folks a lot easier (lots of Australians this time of year). My highlight, though, was while venturing out alone.
Last night in Rome. Two men. Italian. Both with heads shaved bald. Both shared the same birthday (different years). There names: Stefano and Sandro. Great guys. They actually became friends while traveling in America, and we all shared a laugh over their similarities. The best part was when the three of us were walking around, and Sandro turned it into an architectural tour, giving us insights into the how’s and why’s of Rome’s stunning buildings. My experience was made complete when they drive me back to my place in one of those little European cars. It was a blast! At the end, we exchanged email addresses and such, and I had to start laughing, when Sandro asked, “MySpace?” Oh, such a small world we are becoming.
By the time I had to say goodbye to Rome, I didn’t want to leave. I felt like I had become a resident. Well, maybe I dream about that for the future. Right now, LUCCA is waiting. Off we go!
Well, after a stop in Florence, of course. See, I left Florence without buying a pair of boots. Over the course of days that had passed, those boots became a damn near obsession of mine. So the plan was on the way to Lucca, stop in Florence, get the boots, get on the train, and go.
It was going to be my one big splurge. I didn’t even know if by buying these boots, I would wind up penniless at the end of the trip. Oh well, I figured, if that happens, at least I’ll look great at my funeral. But there was a snag in my plan. Or rather, a tear. Seems like the only pair in my size required a little stitching at the seam. If I wanted them to do it, I would have to wait for the seamstress to return from lunch, hours later. Buy or don’t buy?
Oh hell, let’s get ‘em. We’ll fix ‘em in Lucca. And that set the pace for my visit. I was a LOCAL IN LUCCA. I was there for two nights (or one full day) and I had all these errands to do. Laundry, post office, and such, so that’s what I did. I stayed at this adorable place, and had the shared dorm room all to myself.
The tourist information office pointed me to the place to get my boots repaired. The man spoke English because he had lived in Australia for some time, but we didn’t need to speak the same language for him to understand the look on my face when he mentioned replacing the whole seam. I told him to do the best that he could so that I could have them by 10am the next morning.
Then I stepped out, navigating my way through the beautiful historic center of Lucca,
to eat local treats at the open-air market, went to the local post office and successfully handled that transaction in my broken Italian, and even had a bottle of wine uncorked at the local grocery store. I even took a stroll up along the ramparts (the walls surrounding the city). Lions are everywhere in Italy and here is no exception.
And when no one was looking, I even did a cartwheel. (I only do that when I’m really happy.)
And sure enough, the next day, at 10am, my boots were ready, one hem slightly imperfect, but perfectly mine. Then, to make it unforgettable, he wouldn’t charge me. Smiling, he said, “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
With boots in hand, I hopped on the train again, and continued to head north to CINQUE TERRE.
Cinque Terre literally means “five lands”, and it is five small coastal towns strung together by hiking paths. I stayed in RIOMAGGIORE for three nights, and what an experience!
I made my way to Bar Centrale. There I met Alberto, Richardo, Stefano (some locals) and Kim, whose name received a quick translation: Cassandra. Some hours and quite a few drinks later, Kim and I agreed to meet the next morning to walk the Cinque Terre, and then later that evening, meet up with Richardo and Stefano for dinner. Richardo insisted on cooking for us.
The next day, her and I took a local train up to the first town, Vernazza,
had lunch, and then walked two towns south to Cornegia. Perched high up on a mountain, the trails weave between breathtaking views of the sea and inland farms.
By the time we were down, we couldn’t wait for dinner. Kim and I met Stefano at Bar Ivo, and on our way to Richardo’s home, we stopped and picked up a bottle of wine, from a local grower. Dinner, of course, was amazing and just whole lot of fun.
And then, like that, it was time to leave. Cinque Terre felt so like home that it was strange to get on the train again. And as the train moved north, the sunny sea disappeared and turned into a gray sky and flat land.
Next stop: MILAN. My plan was to only stay a night, because I was really hoping to catch a quick train to Lake Como. Although radically off-season, I wanted to buy my friend, Tania, a poster that she fell in love with at one of her favorite restaurants in Los Angeles. But since I had to stop in Milan, I figured while I was there, why not walk through area around Via Montenapoleone to explore Milan’s most-known asset: Fashion. (Yeah, it was fun.)
The next morning, my plan to go to Lake Como was underway, that is, until I was holding the ticket in my hand, but couldn’t find the train. Unfortunately, there wasn’t going to be a train. But on the bright side, the previous night, while visiting the Tourist Information office, the agent was so generous to give me a gigantic Lake Como wall calendar. So, feeling a little comforted by the fact that I had something, I settled in my seat as the train took me, instead, directly to VENICE.
Well, what started as a short train ride turned into a Day of Misdirection. The hotel I booked was on the mainland, not the island. (Be careful about that should you travel to Venice.) And when I was able to negotiate my way out of my current room, it then took hours to find the new hotel.
In the process, I met Eric. He was trying to get out of his room, too, and I couldn’t have walked in at a more perfect moment. When I said I wanted out, he jumped up. “Me, too.” I thought, “Cool, look at that. I already have a buddy.”
Not so fast. Eric (not his real name since he was born in China), who works for DHL in Germany was visiting due to amazing flight specials offered in Germany, like “10 Euros to Any Destination in Europe.” Anyways, after we finally made it to the new hotel, we went back out to catch a bite to eat and check out the Venice nightscene. And that’s when things took a turn.
Every place we walked into he was rude to the waitstaff, and then he was trying to get all over me. Needless to say, the first chance I had, I ditched him. And of course, as my luck would have it, I have a photo of him.
The next day, under gray skies and light showers, I experienced an almost perfect day. I was just peaceful to walk around, watch people play with pigeons in St. Mark’s Square,
eat gelato, and when my feet started to hurt too much, I sipped on quiet a few Proseccos (a sweet drink native to Venice) during happy hour at Buraco Jazz club. Soon after I decided to leave, it didn’t take long before I made friends at another bar. Eventually a group of four of us all had dinner together. I guess you could call it a feast for my last true night in Italy.I had a hard time saying goodbye to Venice, and fortunately the slow vaparetto took an hour to get to the train station. That actually did make it easier.
I went back to Florence, hung out at a pub before catching a bus to the airport. And for my last adventure, I spent the night, there, in the airport with a local resident who was flying out on early next morning to visit her family in China.
So we talked on and off, between our attempts to sleep on hard plastic chairs. And then before I knew it, the airport came to life, I boarded my plane, and came home.
With that, I just wanted to say THANK YOU again for making this all possible, for all your support and encouragement. This was an experience of a lifetime.
And stay tuned, because I’m not done yet. It’s time to get back to some running.
