A
2017 ITALIAN ADVENTURE
Many of us have “bucket lists” of things to do or
places to go to before we shed our mortal coil—i.e. kick the bucket. With
Ireland already checked off my bucket list, my attention—and Beth’s—turned to
Italy. Yes, that Mediterranean nation that was once the center of the universe
when “all roads led to Rome.”
Interestingly, our Roman holiday commenced via Aer
Lingus, the Irish airline which brought us from Boston to Dublin to Rome. The
delightful ginger-haired flight attendants with their Irish brogues made us quite
comfortable on both legs.
As we approached Rome’s International Airport, I
looked out the window, anticipating metropolitan structures and ancient ruins.
But while descending, all I saw were green fields, a few trees and some cows.
The airport was well outside Rome-proper, necessitating a 30-minute train ride,
through graffiti-covered residential neighborhoods. But finally we pulled into
the Eternal City’s train-station. And on time!
WHEN
IN ROME …
Rather than a hotel, Beth (our tour planner) opted for
a “Bed and Breakfast.” The BnB was in south Rome, near the Apian Way, and the
location allowed us to experience a real Roman neighborhood, with its little
cafes, pizzerias, stores, and wine shops, as well as real Italians—and their
dogs.
A nearby bus-stop was our launching point for numerous
forays into the great metropolis, starting with a visit to Vatican City, where
we actually saw—and were blessed by—Pope Francis, along with many other
thousands of visitors to St. Peter’s square. It was magnifico!
Subsequent trips brought us to such “must see”
attractions as the Coliseum, the Forum, the Vatican Museums, the Sistine
Chapel, the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps and so much more, including a
visit to our American embassy.
For a history person, Rome represents an overwhelming
challenge. Consider that “historic” Boston has a 300 year time-line. Rome’s
narrative is over 3000 years. The layers of history are mind-boggling. We never
made it to the Pantheon. One could spend weeks seeing all there is to see. We
had to pick our spots and they were all memorable.
A
“KEY” LESSON
Finally it was time to check out of our BnB and take a
bus to the train station to head to Florence. We were to leave the keys on the
table. But we needed one of the keys to open the gate to leave the very secure
apartment complex. A quandary. But one easily solved by me taking the keys to
unlock the gate, then propping it open, and throwing the keys back up to Beth
on the third floor balcony. Good idea?
“Bad idea,” said Beth.
“Trust me,” said Mike.
I went below and unlocked and held open the gate. I looked
up at Beth—who is much smarter than me—nervously peeking over the third floor
balcony.
“Stand by for incoming!” I yelled. I then tossed the
keys skyward—but didn’t get quite enough on my throw. Beth leaned and reached
but couldn’t quite grab the keys, which fell onto the second balcony, arousing
a huge dog which commenced to bark viciously.
“I TOLD you!” said Beth.
“You just needed to reach a couple more inches!”
replied Mike.
“#$@%&!!!” yelled Beth.
We were about to miss our bus and then our train. We
were screwed.
I stood slack-jawed.
“Just stay there and don’t move,” yelled Beth. My
quick-thinking spouse had a translation app on her smart-phone and she created
the following message on her screen.
“Mio marito ha lanciato le nostre chiavi sul tuo
terrazzo!” (My husband threw our keys on your deck!)
Fortunately, the woman who owned the big dog on the
second floor was home and Beth retrieved our keys and we made our bus and train
connections.
“Grazie
Dio!”
TO
FLORENCE (FIRENZA)
A 90-minute train ride through the beautiful Italian
countryside brought us to Florence, birthplace of the Renaissance and home to the
likes of Michelangelo, da Vinci, Machiavelli, Galileo, Dante, and so many more.
The Uffizi Museum contained an astonishing number of priceless works of art—and
it was but one of many museums. Imagine being a passionate baseball fan and
dreaming of one day visiting Cooperstown, and upon arriving there finding not
one Hall-of-Fame/Museum, but a dozen!
Such it is for lovers of history and the
arts when visiting Italy.
Once again we opted for a BnB and our location put us
across the street from the Accademia, which always had long lines outside it.
“Why are there always so many people out there?” I
asked Dr. Beth—who is much smarter than me.
“That’s where Michelangelo’s ‘David’ is,” she replied.
“The world’s most famous statue.” (We visited, of course.)
Florence is also home to the massive Il Duomo, a
gigantic church that took many decades to build.
That such a structure was
created many centuries ago without modern construction equipment also boggled
my mind. Less imposing but also remarkable were such landmarks as the Ponte Vecchio
Bridge, the Santa Croce Cathedral, and the Baptistery.
A day trip to an ancient winery allowed us to learn
much about the craft of wine-making while also allowing us numerous samples of
vino. Along with the other tourists in our group we learned how to make pasta
from scratch, which was fun, educational, and delectable.
Magnifico!
Another day-trip, via bus and train, brought us to the
northwest coastline, where we hiked the Cinque Terre Trail, just south of
Genoa—home of Christopher Columbus. The tiny, historic seacoast villages we
visited are protected under a UNESCO fiat, and owners are not allowed to modify
their properties. (So much for local control!)
We saw where there was bomb damage from World War II,
speaking of recent Italian history. It was a torturous time for Italy when its
Fascist dictator, Benito Mussolini (Il Duce) unfortunately cast his lot with
Adolf Hitler’s Nazis—with dreadful consequences.
TO
VENICE
We regretfully left our Florentine delights and took a
train to Venice. En route I did some homework, via the www, and learned that
Venice was ranked as the most beautiful city in the world (meshnews.com). I
imagined gondolas, music, wine, and great food. The reality would surpass my
imagination!
Originally founded as a refuge from invading hordes,
Venice grew into a center of trade between the east and west.
A visit to the Venetian Palace that once housed the
Doge—the Venetian ruler—further demonstrated the incredible wealth accumulated
in Italy over the many centuries. Six hundred years ago Venice was the world’s
greatest city, and Venetian fleets brought back riches beyond imagination,
booty that that resulted in the City State creating edifices and infrastructure
beyond belief. Just the artwork in Rome, Florence, and Venice is worth billions
of dollars. While Venice now shows much decay, that there were glory days
remains obvious.
When Mark Twain visited Italy in the 19th
century, he was stunned by the riches accumulated by the city-states. Much of
the wealth accrued to the Catholic Church, and in his book “Innocents Abroad,”
Twain’s narrator seemed to urge Italian locals to rob the rich Catholic clergy.
(Twain, of course, was a Protestant!) But those works of art—paintings,
sculptures, and architecture—are what brought the likes of us to Italy to spend
lots of dollars/Euros that clearly help sustain the Italian economy. A rising
tide lifts all gondolas!
The packed plazas resounded with English voices and
the many Yankee caps indicated a strong American tourist presence. Although, I
suppose Italians may opt for the Yankee attire to honor “the great DiMaggio,”
as Ernest Hemingway might put it.
We got boat passes—instead of bus passes—and traveled
all over greater Venice, to include the island of Murano with its glass-blowing
wonders. Then Torcello, where Atilla the Hun once holed up between sacking
expeditions—a year before he died on his wedding night!
Our local travels exposed us to countless shops,
pizzarias, osterias, trattorias, farmicias, thousands of pigeons, and water
rats. Venetian rats are amphibious, as one would expect. And there were lots of
beggars and street musicians.
It was an adjustment to continually have to fork over
a euro or two to use the rest-rooms. Considering all the vino we bought and
consumed, free water closets should have been a fringe benefit.
Our return home meant boarding a water bus bound for Venice’s
Marco Polo Airport and Aer Lingus, where we were reunited with the delightful,
ginger-haired flight attendants with their Irish brogues. I pondered the next
place to visit to cross off my bucket list.
Or should we just return to Italy?
I decided to just return to Italy. Heaven can wait.
Italia
es Magnifico!
.
