Cortona, Italy

I am in Cortona.  I was one of two or three people who got off the train at Camucia-Cortona station and most likely the only tourist.  There was no tourist info booth and no one working at the ticket counter.  I walked in the most obvious direction towards town, skipping public transport again.  I considered looking for a map, but since I didn’t see any readily available, I decided to follow my instincts and all signs pointing towards Cortona.

The walk started off uncomfortably because I was the only one walking and I felt everyone was looking at me.  I fought off the unease and the heat of the sun and walked uphill towards all the buildings on the hilltop.  I found no shade as I walked uphill, and took solace where I could, mostly in the grove of olive trees along the road.  I was rewarded with fantastic views of the Tuscan region and a big domed church midway up the hill.  All the houses look new (made to look old) with gated fences and they are large in size judging by the façade.

I almost gave up several times as I continued up the hill without any other life in site except for the occasional motor vehicle that drove past me.  I thought I had seen all I could see when I found the Duomo, but I persevered and picked a path when I came to a crossroads.  This was my “Road Less Traveled” and I won’t chicken out and turn back.  There were no tourists around, Cortona was not mentioned in Let’s Go and Rick Steves’ “Europe Through The Back Door” only mentioned Cortona by name once, saying it had a fine youth hostel.  I knew nothing of this town except I was inspired to see the setting of “Under the Tuscan Sun.”  I was proud that I made it this far.

The steep, winding road led me to another church at the top of the hill.  Intimidated by the growing amount of vehicle traffic and lack of sidewalks, I walked along the road through a parking lot.  In doing so, I spied a set of stairs, which led to a bronze dome high above.  I took these stairs and an extremely steep incline (almost straight up) and found myself in the Town Center.  And here were the tourists.  I’ve only seen a couple handfuls so far.  This is nothing in comparison to other “lesser known” towns like Hallstatt, Cinque Terre, and Siena.  It’s still very quiet, but perhaps it’s also because it’s Monday.

Cultural Highlight: Italian men

The men are hard to escape when in Italy.  They LOVE women.  They love women of all shapes, sizes, age, and colors.  If you ever need an ego boost, come to Italy.  The Italian men will make you feel cherished and beautiful like none of them men back home will do. 

However, with the admiration comes passion.  They are a sensitive lot and will act spiteful when their advances are shunned.  I've had a few romantic affairs or encounters with Italian men in my lifetime and they were all similar to this story here of Hivo.

My girlfriend and I ordered two cocktails from the bar.  The bartender was a healthy looking Italian with a shaved head and olive skin.  Even with his hair closely shaven, you could see his receding hairline.  My friend was extremely tired from today’s travel and didn’t bother to hide it when she tried to order her drink.  The bartender told her, in English with the tiniest hint of an Italian accent, to smile.  Initially, he sounded pretty rough around the edges as he criticized her for being so tired when she’s on holiday and he works seven days a week without any time off and he doesn’t complain.  I asked him not to be so mean to her.  Well… maybe I TOLD him not to be mean to her.  He turned his attentions on me and I tried to soften him up by flirting with him so he wouldn’t be so rude to my friend anymore.  I ordered a pina colada and he said he would make it special for me.  He poured the blended cocktail into a tall glass and sliced a small strawberry to decorate the rim.  I told him that the drink was, “Very nice.”  He responded, with a straight face, meaning the corners of his lips turned downward, “I think YOU (pointing at me to emphasize the word) are very nice.”  I thanked him, with a smile, and my friend and I turned around to walk out of the bar.  The bartender’s name was Hivo.

In the middle of my conversation with my friend, Hivo came around to serve and clean the tables.  He called me from the next table.  Okay, he appeared to have softened up.  He asked to take me out after work.  I asked (yes, flirtatiously), “Aren’t you married, Hivo?”  He replied, “Yes.  And I have two mistresses.  I’m saving money to buy a house big enough for all of them.  Are you bisexual?”  I told him no.  He said, “That’s too bad.  They would loooove you.”  I laughed so hard as he moved onward. 

The next night we returned to the bar after another long day of sightseeing.  Hivo came around our table immediately and he knelt down to my level, kissed my right shoulder, and said, “Hello, Risa.  Can I take you out tonight?”  I smiled, feeling a little uncomfortable.  It’s been awhile since I had to turn down a date.  It’s also been awhile since I’ve been asked out.  Hivo looked at the guy who sat across from me, “Is she your girlfriend?”  At the same time, he shook his head No and I answered Yes.  I laughed.  Hivo stood up and gave me a dirty look.  I laughed again.  He took our drink orders (I ordered a pina colada again) and before he left us he said to me, “It would have been easier if you had told me no.” 

Hivo served our drinks; my pina colada was dressed with a slice of pineapple and cherry tonight.  As he handed me my glass he said, with that straight face and corners of his lips turned downward again, “This was made with my heart.  Broken.”  And walked away. 

I thought Hivo’s attitude was pretty comical and I was having a good time with it until I realized that he was really not talking to me every time he walked by.  He deliberately ignored me.  At one point my girlfriend and I were having trouble remembering the Italian word for dog so I asked Hivo when he walked by.  He didn’t respond.  So I asked her to ask him when he came around the next time.  She stopped him and he stopped and flashed a giant grin at her, his features softened up immensely.  “Yes,” he cooed.  She asked him the question that was weighing in our heads and he said, “Cane.”  Oh yes, of course.  Cane = canine.  I should have known that.  Before he left, he looked at my friend with the same Cheshire grin and told her, “Ask me anything, bella.”  Oh gosh!  Why is he being so immature?  I thought of the last Italian bartender who fancied me, in Rome, when I was 20, and how immature he acted when I turned him down. 

Siena, Italy

Today.  Siena.  I spent the whole day here and it was fun to see, but I don’t think I’ll come back.  I don’t think I did as much walking today as I did in Vienna, but I feel exhausted.  I came off the train and decided against buying a map.  Instead, I picked a direction (I chose the left) and started walking.  An American guy from my train (I knew he was American because I saw him reading a Rick Steves guidebook) asked me which direction town center was and I told him I wasn’t sure and informed him of my plan.  He said it was brave of me and wished me luck.  His tone was one of concern, not awe.

I took a picture of the town map at the train station and used that to get my foot in the right direction and then I just took it from there.  Eventually, I found my way.  I stopped at a fountain outside some Etruscan walls to finish writing in my journal.  While doing so, an older Italian man sat on my bench and started talking to me.  I didn’t understand anything but I got the gist that he was commenting on my journal writing and asked if I was writing about Siena.  He then asked if I was a student and I shook my head.  Am I a tourist?  Si (yes).  I told him, “Non parlo Italiano,” and that seemed to get him excited.  He spoke to me in Italian the entire time, slowly.  I wished so much to understand him.  I pointed in the direction that I thought was the town center and asked, “Il Campo?”  He responded affirmatively and said some more things in Italian.  I could only understand a few words like “San Domenico” and “Duomo,” which are all sites of Siena.  Then he offered to walk me there and show me the way.  I figured this out when he got up with his bag and gestured in that direction.  We walked by the wall and he pointed at it saying, “Blah-blah-blah Panoramica,” which I figured to mean panoramic views (I learned I was right when I later went behind the walls), then he pointed left at the stadio where football (soccer) games were played.  Then San Domenico was standing in front of us.  He pointed to the left towards a street and said Il Campo was that way and I’d be able to follow it by looking for the signs.  I was able to figure all this out!  It was wonderful and fun to be able to communicate like this through hand gestures and deciphering Italian words into their English counterparts.  The only thing he tried to tell me which I absolutely could not understand was something about a festival that took place in Siena twice a year on July 2 and August 16.  Later, as I window-shopped, a smile slowly spread across my face as the light turned on in my head.  I saw several images of a horse race with Il Campo as the backdrop.  The Palio (the medieval horse race) is a popular event in Siena and I would be missing it both times this summer.  Bummer.  The old Italian man left me on my own and told me to have fun.  Then he took off and I thanked him.  Although I’m sure I could have figured out the roads to Siena on my own, I was glad to have his help because it gave me the chance to interact with an Italian and to overcome the language barrier.  He was an extreme sweetheart.

On the train back to Florence, I watched the sun set over the Tuscan countryside, like you see those people do in the movies: head leaning against the glass looking at nothing in particular in complete silence while your mind races with thoughts of everything and nothing.  Tonight I thought how amazing everything is at peace when the warm rays fall over the gentle hills, the vineyards, the sunflower fields, the villas.  The towns seem to say, “Shush,” one last time before retiring behind their doors to ready for the next day.

Pisa, Italy

The trip to Pisa was great.  These were my first tickets I purchased in Italian:  Vorrei un biglietto per Firenze.  I don’t know how accurate my grammar was, but the point is that it got the message across.  Then I checked my backpack at the luggage storage.  It was a short walk into town and we took “those” pictures of the Tower.  I hadn’t thought much of it before the trip, but it all became so real, yet surreal, to me when the Tower came into view.  I was quite stunned by it, to be honest.

Neea stayed behind to see the other monuments (the cathedral, Duomo, and cemetery) and to climb the Tower.  The next tour wouldn’t be until 4PM or something and I couldn’t stay, as I had to be on the train to Florence.  I wanted to make sure I gave myself ample time when I arrived to find accommodations and not wander around for hours or into the night looking for a place to stay.  I’ve heard and read that there were often people who approached tourists with hotel offers at the train station.  I witnessed them in Krakow, Prague, and Riomaggiore, but I always had reservations.  I decided that Florence was a large enough city to have many options and I took a chance.  I made this decision on the train ride to Pisa because I didn’t have a final destination in mind.  I chose to stop in Pisa for no other reason than that it was so close to Cinque Terre.  I made my way back to the train station in due time and after a one-hour train ride, I was in Florence by 415PM.

Florence, Italy

As soon as I got off the train, I bee-lined for the Uffizio Touristo (Tourist Office).  It took all of one minute before I was stopped about a room.  The gentleman offered a private room in his mother’s hotel.  It included a private shower and breakfast and it was recommended by Rick Steves.  It was also in the center of town, not too far from the train station.  But it was 35EUR per night.  Not within my budget.  He asked me to keep the brochure in case I had no other options, which I did.  Then I found the tourist office and at the door was another solicitor.  This gentleman offered dorm rooms for 20EUR and it was located even closer to the train station, and equally as close to the center.  He directed me where to go on the map and I decided to take a look at it.  As I was leaving the station, yet ANOTHER gentleman stopped me about a room that was EVEN closer, but not cheaper at 25EUR.  I took his card just in case I didn’t like the 20EUR room.

I found Hotel Veneto pretty easily and quickly.  I also found an Internet café next to the hotel for 1EUR/hour, which was a better deal than the other ten Internet cafes on the same street.  It was unbelievable to see how many Internet cafes there were in my eight-minute walk from the train station to the hotel.  Hotel Veneto turned out to be clean and decent and I thought it was worth 20EUR per night so I booked three nights there.  This happened all within thirty minutes of stepping off the train.

After I’d settled in and refreshed myself, I left the hotel with my camera in my pocket and a map in my hand.  It was great not to carry a backpack.  I decided that this trip to Florence was more about seeing Tuscany than about seeing all the sights of Florence again.  I opted not to visit the museums as I had seen them on my last trip.  Still, how could I be in this city, the birthplace of the Italian Renaissance, and not be drawn to revisit all of its beauty?  I walked towards the Duomo and found a supermarket near the hotel.  I didn’t look at my map as I let myself wander the streets.  It felt great to be so independent and free.  Florence was just like I remembered.  The buildings hadn’t changed one bit and I think I found the famous Chinese Restaurant where our entire tour group came to have dinner one night when we needed a break from pasta and panini.  The funny thing was that our group had separated into several smaller groups, with no dinner plans, and we’d found ourselves there on the same night around the same time.  It seemed we all needed a break.

There is a Duomo, or church with a large dome, in every city in Italy, but Florence’s Duomo is my favorite of all.  My interest in it probably has mostly to do with the controversy of building the dome that no one knew how to build.   The result was an amazing architectural feat.  I wandered from the Duomo and came upon Orsanmichele, then the fake statue of David by Michelangelo and then the Uffizi led me to the Arno River and the Ponte Vecchio.  I had planned to watch the sun set over the Ponte Vecchio, but since the sun was still high, I decided to wander some more and then come back when it was time.

I crossed the Arno via another bridge.  I just kept walking until I thought this abandoned tower that looked like it could have been a part of a castle was a good resting place to quench my thirst with a 1.5L bottle of water I had picked up for 0.70EUR (what a deal!).  The view looked great from here and I was glad to stop.  I pulled out my map to see where I had wandered.  Then I read over the excerpts from the Let’s Go guidebook and it mentioned that I should go across the Arno to Piazzale Michelangelo for views of Florence that are better than from the Duomo itself (and cheaper!).  As a budget traveler, Let’s Go had me at “cheaper.”  I compared my map to my location and discovered I was already halfway there to Piazzale Michelangelo - it was just a few more steps away!

I climbed the rest of the way to find that Let’s Go was right about the views being better from here.  You can’t get the view of the Duomo from the Duomo and you certainly can here.  Sunset was still awhile away so I wandered around some more and found myself at San Miniato al Monte.  It sits on top of the hills, at a point higher than Piazzale Michelangelo.  I sat on the low wall outside the cathedral for a very long moment taking in the view and watching the wedding parties take photos.  There were three weddings.  

The sun had gone down further and I made my way back to the Piazzale.  For dinner, I dined on a hot dog served with sauerkraut, purchased from the Ristorante at Piazzale Michelangelo.  There was quite a turnout of people for the sunset viewing, but I easily found an open spot on the stairs, in plenty of time for the show.  At dusk, the sun glowed as brightly as a burning tong as it fell behind the hills beyond, covering the Ponte Vecchio and Arno River in a warm amber.  The light of Florence slowly dimmed down for the evening.  When the last color of the sun was gone, a quiet applause was heard on the stairs.    

I walked back to the other side of the Arno via the Ponte Vecchio.  I stopped to watch an impromptu street concert on the bridge with the Florentine night sky as a backdrop over the Arno.  I sat on the bridge wall listening to the alluring sounds of the performer as he sang songs in English and Italian.  I really enjoyed myself and found more happiness in this city on this trip than I had previously.  The moment was aesthetically and emotionally beautiful.

Tonight couldn’t have been more perfect.  I wish I could bottle up all the joy and overwhelming peace I feel from the experience and courage of arriving into a town without hotel reservations, finding a room with little effort, seeing the most beautiful sunset of my life while eating a very simple, yet very delicious dinner, and witnessing a wonderful street performance.  This is not the hot and humid, crowded, austere Florence I remembered.  This is the Florence I think should fit into Italy’s charm and way of life.  Tonight is the reason why I’ve been yearning to return to Italy.

 

Cultural Highlight: Nonne and Ciao!

My favorite part of the trip is seeing the nonne (grandmothers) gathered together, dressed in their shapeless dresses, orthopedic shoes, and socks pulled up to their mid-calves, seated on a bench all in a row.  I couldn’t understand anything they were saying, but I guessed they were catching up on the village gossip.

I also loved how the motherly-aged women stroll the roads, running errands, and call out to their friends as they passed by, “Cecilia, CIAO!”  They say ciao like it’s two syllables: CHA-OW!  The second syllable lingers.  It’s always called out loudly and joyfully.  But then, I think the entire Italian language sounds like it’s spoken joyously.  The language never sounds better than when little Italian boys are speaking.  The way my heart melts at the sounds of their voices is indescribable.

Cinque Terre, Italy

The first time I saw the blue expanse of the Ligurian Sea, I thought to myself, “Oh f*** me now.”  Rick Steves was so right when he wrote in his guide book how the train ride teased you with quick views of the water.  It surely was a great foreplay to the climactic view I saw when I stepped off the train. 

Cinque Terre are five coastal villages, hence the translation of the name being Five Lands.  The five villages, located on the Italian Riviera in Northern Italy, are (from North to South) Monterroso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore.  The main activity is the five-hour hike through the villages (all of which are also easily accessible by train).  There’s also beaching and swimming, of course.

Don't miss eating the pesto sauce for which Cinque Terre is famous.  Jars of it are widely available in the markets.

The "Five-Hour" Hike

Every morning, the bells sound off at about 7 or 730AM.  The village wouldn’t shut up after that.  Because of this, I was forced to wake up at 8 or so, but never have I woken up to such a beautiful morning.

Buongiorno!

The hike was exhilarating!  I made frequent stops during the hike to pace myself, but mostly because I was enchanted by the view at every turn.  The main trail followed the sea and the blue water followed me all the way from Riomaggiore to Vernazza.  When I got far enough away to the next village I could see the village before and what an amazing view that would be.  

Start easy with the Riomaggiore-Manarola trail, or the Via Dell'Amore ("Lovers Walk")

The Manarola-Corniglia trail gets progressively tougher

The Corniglia-Vernazza trail

More of the Corniglia-Vernazza trail - watch your step!

All of the villages are breathtaking, quaint, charming, and everything I had expected and more.   

The hike could've been a total of five hours, as it is advertised, if you don't take time to visit any of the villages, but what fun would that be?  Take the time to enjoy yourself in Cinque Terre.  Buy a pass for more than one day, or if you're ambitious or short on time, start early so you can soak in some of the late afternoon sun by the time you get to Monterosso.  You can find price details for this hike here.

Riomaggiore
Riomaggiore was where my apartment was located, and according to the guide books, the most affordable village of the five.

My apartment was at the top (of course)

Mosaic art in the passenger tunnel from the train station

Mosaic art in the passenger tunnel from the train station

Manarola

View of Manarola

Kids frolic on the rocks of Manarola's "beach"

Church of San Lorenzo

Interior of Church of San Lorenzo

Corniglia
To reach Corniglia, one must climb a long flight of stairs.  This is not the most thrilling climb, especially when you factor in the fact that you've already hiked two towns from Riomaggiore and the blazing hot sun beating down on you.


Once you get to the top, there is no beach or relief of the shoreline nearby as the village is surrounded on three sides by vineyards and terraces and the fourth side descends steeply on the sea.  Before going out to explore, stop for a gelato break to reward yourself for having made it this far. 

Church of San Pietro

"Take a walk on the clouds"

Vernazza

My first glimpse of Vernazza

A Vernazzan backyard

Vernazza's beach is rocky and small, but still delightful

Italian boys playing in the water

Monterroso
Monterosso has the largest sandy beach of the five villages and it was nearly full with bodies by 10AM.

"Il Gigante," Statue of Neptune

Church of San Francesco

Milan, Italy

Milan can be done on a short day trip, if you desire to see nothing else except the Duomo.  Pay 4 euros to store your bags at the train station and then hop on a quick subway ride that will take you from the train station to the Duomo in less than ten minutes. 

Facade of the Duomo

Interior of the Duomo

Floor detail inside the Duomo

With a little more time, you can do some people watching, go shopping...

The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, a large, covered arcade linking the Duomo's piazza with the Teatro alla Scala.

The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, shopping arcade

Teatro alla Scala (or La Scala), is one of the world's most famous opera houses.

or enjoy a cappuccino in one of its many fine cafes.  

Of course, don't forget this is home of Leonardo da Vinci's infamous fresco of The Last Supper.  Reservations are required, usually at least two months ahead of time, so plan well in advance if this is on your Bucket List. 

"The Last Supper" by Leonardo da Vinci

Cultural Highlight: Siesta

About ninety percent of the shops are closed.  Siesta.  This is a common practice all throughout Italy, closing down work between the hours of one and four in the afternoon, when the sun is hottest, to lunch at home and to nap before returning to work again.  I am a regular participant of siesta, although I have seldom taken it in the comforts of my bed in the hostel.  Usually, I find a grassy park with some shade and lay down on the grass or a bench, prop my head on my backpack, stretch out my legs, close my eyes, and give in to slumber allowing myself to relax in the shade protecting me from the sun that’s emitting 35 degrees Celsius (about 95 degrees Fahrenheit).  Today, I found a bench.  I napped for nearly an hour before I woke up and found my way to the gelateria.

Hallstatt, Austria

Is Hallstatt worth a day trip from Salzburg?  Absolutely.  It's an easy trip and you won't be disappointed.  If you go by train, as I did, you have to take a ferry boat across the lake in order to get to the actual village, and the same ferry takes you back to the train station.

The train ride takes you through the Salzkammergut, a picturesque region of green, grassy hills, blue lakes, mountains, (depending on the weather) gray clouds, and rain.  White clouds that look like fog float around the mountains.  Bavarian cottages and homes dot the hillsides.

I was so taken with its charm that I didn't care it rained the day of my visit.  I just wanted to take in the first view of this tiny toy town across the Hallstattersee (the lake).  After capturing all the pictures I could think of, I caught the early train back to Salzburg.

 

Hallstattersee

Central Square

Feel free to drink from the fountains!

View of the Catholic Parish Church