Translate

Showing posts with label TEE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TEE. Show all posts

Thursday, October 10, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: July 26-28
Italy - Florence and Pisa




Sunday July 26                                                   Florence,  Italy                                                   When our train pulled into Bologna at 9 am, four extremely tired, but thankful young women disembarked, grateful for the long walk that stretched out our aching leg and back muscles. Bidding farewell to Diane, Shirley, Donna and I immediately sought a train that would take us to Florence.

We booked into our  hotel by noon, but only to drop off our backpacks. After several days of pizza or other finger foods, we needed - and unanimously decided - to treat ourselves to a first-class food at a first-class restaurant! To our delight, each delicious three-course meal cost us only $3.00 CDN. 

Happily satiated, we strolled back to our hotel, through ancient streets and green spaces that seemed tailor-made for lovers. There we cleansed ourselves and hand-washed our dirty clothes, leaving them to dry in our room, before the three of us went exploring for the remainder of the day.

We caught a local train to Pisa, which lies about 100 km west of Florence.  The journey of an hour or so, was quite eventful, since the three of us had been well fed and thus had sufficient energy to entertain all aboard with song and laughter. 

The Leaning Tower was, of course, the main attraction. But, of the three of us, I was the only one to climb the 238 spiral steps to the very top of it. 
http://www.beachcomberpete.com/travelogue/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/View-from-the-top-Leaning-Tower-of-Pisa-Italy.jpg
It felt most odd to be standing at such a rakish angle to the ground.  Yet I remained there for a full half an hour, taking in the view while waiting for the sun to set so that I could take a photograph of the architectural details of the 800 year old Cathedral and Baptistry that lay immediately to the west of the slanted Bell Tower.

Descending the Tower's stone staircase, after my brain had adjusted to the slant of the building, was very peculiar. The degree of slant meant one both ascended and descended during each complete turn of the spiral.  So when I eventually did reach the bottom, I was completely discombobulated and had trouble standing upright for a good few minutes. Thank heavens Donna met and waited with me there, until my inner ears informed my brain that all was, indeed, well. 

Shirley, meanwhile, had attracted the attention of six Aussie boys who had offered all three of us a ride back to Florence. So, at twilight, we all dutifully piled into their van for an hilarious 2 hour journey. But the hilarity stopped rather quickly, when the van ran out of gas on the outskirts of Florence.

Our ever-resourceful Australian friends soon hailed another van of Aussies who drove all but the dead van's driver to a nearby campsite for some beers. After an hour or so of partying with them, Donna, Shirley and I walked and hitch-hiked back through Florence to the comfort of our hotel, finally arriving there at midnight. All three of us fell into bed and slept like logs!

Monday July 27
Florence
We woke at 9 am, to a breakfast of rotten coffee and worse bread rolls. After taking care of our ablutions and packing up our dried laundry, we all left for a tour of Florence: our first stop was

This sculpture of David shows the Bible story of David defeating Goliath with a slingshot and a rock.

It is unspeakably beautiful, three times the size of a human being, crafted by a Renaissance Master for the glory of God and the eternal joy of onlookers.

Michelangelo's David was commissioned in 1501, by the city government of Florence.  Originally it was meant to be seen from very far below, as a top-piece for the dome of Florence's Duomo (cathedral). So Michelangelo created the statue with a larger head and hands than that of a normal human.

But his patrons were so astounded by the beauty of the piece, and changed their minds about its being placed above the dome of the Duomo. Instead they put it in the piazza (square) in front of the Signoria - the government building of Florence, where all might freely see and admire it.

David became a potent symbol of the Republic of Florence, in its opposition to the notion of tyranny. By this time, the Di Medici family had infiltrated and subverted the Republic ideals of the city.  So the David represented a brief resurgence and a brief re-flowering of the democracy of Florence and was beloved by the city and its citizens.

Academy of Fine Arts, Florence
Today the statue is housed in the Academy of Fine Arts of Florence.  In 1976, there were no line-ups to see David, we three girls simply walked into the Academy and stayed as long as we wished. I was, uncharacteristically, speechless in the presence of this incredible sculptured masterpiece. And as I slowly walked around it, my mind memorizing every chiselled and polished plane, tears of joy pricked my eyes. It was such an honour to even be in the same room as David!

As a girl, I had devoured many books and 
photos of Renaissance art and sculpture.
And they certainly gave me an idea of the
beauty and craftsmanship of this piece. 
But to actually be there, so close that 
could have touched the toes of David, 
THAT was a dream come true for me! 
To this day I relish that 
precious moment, tears and all.


We finally emerged from seeing David, overwhelmed by the need to quickly find somewhere to eat an early lunch. En route, we met Aussie Brian and John from USA and then picnicked with them at Independence Piazza before heading for the Uffizi Gallery in Signioria Square.

Uffizi Gallery
This gallery hosts works of art by great Italian artist such as Botticelli, Giotto, Cimabue, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and Raffaello, just to name a few of the most famous. Its large collection has works from all centuries, but a large part dates back to the periods between the 12th and 17th centuries.
The Uffizi is thus where Botticelli's Birth of Venus and Primavera  are kept. Here we caught up with the crowds, who were being escorted through the palace by guided tours delivered in multiple languages. There was no cordon around these exquisite paintings, so I was able to stand within inches of the painting, close enough to examine each brush strokes and almost to smell the paint.
http://www.paintinghere.org/UploadPic/Sandro%20Botticelli/big/La%20Primavera.jpg
Acting on impulse, I surreptitiously touched the painting of the orange grove beneath the foot of beauty, one of the three graces in the Primavera. Sadly, I was not psychically transported back in time to Botticelli's studios, nor was I magically endowed with the graces of chastity, beauty or love. But I did have one huge smile on my face for the remainder of that long day!

After being ushered through the Uffizi at an astonishingly fast pace, we three girls left the gallery, intent on purchasing our own artwork in the form of leather and silken goods that would be easy to carry through the rest of Europe with us in backpacks. 
Hot Chocolate
But the minute we stepped into the centre of the Piazza, the heavens opened up, forcing us to run for cover! We three dashed into a coffee shop at one corner of the square, where thoroughly enjoyed the most delectable hot chocolate EVER, made with globs of real cream.

There's nothing quite as glorious as getting drenched with your pals in a Florence cloudburst, and then warming up together over a delicious glass of piping hot chocolate...mmmm
We then visited Piazza del Duomo (Cathedral Square), once of the most visited places in Europe. 
Here we saw the Florence Cathedral, The Basilica of St Mary of the Flower and Brunelleschi's Cupola. We also visited Giotto's Campanile, a 14th Century Belltower, and the Florence Baptistry.
The Medici Chapels were built as a personal sepulchre of the Medici family, right in the Basilica of San Lorenzo, considered the "official" church of the Medici family. 

The sculpted works began in 1520 by Michelangelo and finished by Giorgio Vasari in 1546 when Michelangelo was ordered to Rome.

The Capella Medici are two structures at the Basilica of San Lorenzo that date from the 16th and 17th centuries.  They were built as extensions to Brunelleschi's 15th century church, with the purpose of celebrating the Medici family, patrons of the church and Grand Dukes of Tuscany.  
http://cache.graphicslib.viator.com/graphicslib/page-images/360x240/135291_Florence_MediciChapels_749.jpg
The Sagrestia Nuova (New Sacristy) was designed by Michelangelo.  The larger Capelle dei Principi (Chapel of the Princes) though proposed in the 16th century was not begun until the 17th century, its design being a collaboration between family and architects. 
above extract from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medici_Chapel
I was able to enter all the exhibits for free because of the International Student Card I'd purchased in Athens. But Shirley and Donna each paid the 'exorbitant' fee of $0.25 per exhibit.

We all arrived back at the Bed and Breakfast by 8 pm. We were definitely foot-weary but still ready to party. Donna even mentioned that she'd like to go drinking with three congenial guys. 

I mumbled from the bed, where I was massaging my feet, that the prospect of meeting any guys inside our hotel bedroom was extremely slim. 

At that precise moment, Shirley entered the room, escorted by three of the Aussies we'd met the previous day. Luckily I was already sitting down, because I just about collapsed in shock.

Donna, Shirley and I then spent the next hour pruning and preening and were collected, eventually, at 10 pm.  The late hour and our group's lack of colloquial Italian resulted in our drinking beer in a milk bar till the management kicked us out at midnight.  The boys escorted us back to the Bed and Breakfast, where a stern looking landlady was waiting on the doorstep for our return at 12.45 am.
Wednesday July 28 
Florence
Slept fitfully till 9 am, then dressed, packed bags and waited till 11 am for the Aussie boys to return to collect Shirley. When they did not show, the three of us headed to the station where we deposited our backpacks in the large lockers for the day. We planned to leave for Venice that very afternoon.

Divested of our heavy packs, we then headed to the Ponte Vecchio the famed covered bridge that spans the Arno River in Florence. 

The Ponte Vecchio

The Ponte Vecchio means "Old Bridge" and is a medieval, stone, closed-spandrel segment arch bridge over the River Arno in Florence. 
http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/ce/37/e6/roberta.jpg

Butchers once occupied the shops that was then (1976) home to many merchants selling jewellery, art, leather, silk and other souvenirs. I bought two silk scarves and a pair of the softest leather gloves I've ever worn.

We all ate far too much pizza, ice cream, lasagne and other foods today, partly because the Pitti Palace with its collections of Raphaels was closed and we'd planned no other activity in its place. 

Luckily we bumped into Brian (Aussie) and John (American) again with whom we chatted till it was time to catch our train for Bologna.


Unbeknown to us, our train to Bologna, where would transfer to the Venice train, was a Trans European Express. This meant that a 2900 lire supplement was added for each passenger, despite the fact that we all carried Eurail passes. Although 2900 lire is barely $2 in today's devalued currency, in 1976 the supplement represented more than our daily living allowance.

So we were unceremoniously thrown off the train once the ticket inspector discovered that we had boarded it illegally, and then refused to pay the excess charge. An hour later, we completed our journey in a less luxurious train and transferred, in Bologna, to the evening train bound for Venice.

Next Time
July 28-30
ITALY



Venice


GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE
July  28-30 Venice Italy

Friday, May 24, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: July 2-3 France to Germany
the scenic route

Friday July 2 
PARIS 

Another 110F (44C) scorcher.
We walked to the Eiffel Tour very slowly in overwhelming heat. Our tour cost 14 fr. to the summit.  And for a few glorious minutes, we experienced darkness and its relative coolness.

But when we got out of the elevators at the top, the temperature was even hotter.  Heat rises!  Duh! And with not one single wisp of air in Paris, it felt like being baked alive in an oven.

Our expedited tour of the "Stifling Tower" took us less than an hour. Then we walked back to the Place de la Concorde. Sticking to the shadows helped lessen the sun's onslaught.  But even though wearing only a sleeveless cotton dress, I was still uncomfortably hot.
Unbeknownst to me, at the time, the whole of Europe was experiencing the hottest summer on record, with very little rain, or wind, to lower temperatures.
by kind courtesy of
To cool myself down, I soaked my feet and legs, and, where possible, my entire body, in the several fountains that were strategically placed at each intersection  along our route.

Between fountains, the heat was so intense that my clothes literally steam-dried on my body. My watery antics shocked Donna.  But I remained cool during most of our walk whilst she did not.  C'est la vie!

We had both booked out of our Pension before embarking on our sightseeing tour that morning. And, as per usual, we'd stashed our backpacks in lockers at our departing station, and ascertained the correct time of our train away from Paris.  We'd had MORE than enough of this city's unrelenting heat and were looking forward to leaving the sizzling capital by the 17.48 train to Luxembourg.
by kind courtesy of 
By the time we'd walked the short distance from the Eiffel Tower to the fountain at Place de la Concorde, we were exhausted.  There was no way that either of us wanted to join the queues sweltering at the Louvre.

Instead, we spent the remainder of that afternoon seeking the shade and relative coolness of porticos. We also sipped expensive cold drinks in as many air-conditioned establishments as we could find.
by kind courtesy of
My personal artistic and historical exploration of Paris was far from complete. But Paris is crazy hot in July when the extreme heat saps your energy, making simple activities - like walking - twice as difficult.   I would simply have to ensure that my next trip to the City of Lights was scheduled during cooler weather!

With a heartfelt sigh of relief, Donna and I boarded an air-conditioned train and left Paris near suppertime.  Arriving in Luxembourg a few hours later, we immediately sought out a hotel for a some much needed horizontal sleep.

by kind courtesy of 
http://vintage.johnnyjet.com/photos/Luxembourg-to-Frankfurt-Train-2009-1.jpg

Sadly, the only available room was dismal with creaky uncomfortable beds, no air conditioning, no view and only a cold-water shower.  After enduring a couple of hot and sticky days of washing ourselves and our hair in a Parisian sink, having a warm shower was a very high priority for both of us. Though very tired, we were disappointed enough to demand our money back and leave that Luxembourg hotel!

Despite the late hour, since we expected to sleep on the train overnight, we treated ourselves to a huge spaghetti supper.  But upon arrival at the station at midnight, we discovered that neither couchettes nor seats would be available. Much loud groaning ensued.

Saturday July 3  
LUXEMBOURG - BASEL - TRIER - KOBLENZ
Our train was supposed to depart Luxembourg train station  at 12.30am.
But it had been delayed. And we were unable to discover why.

To while away the waiting time at Luxembourg, I bought some beautiful  stamps and wrote yet more postcards to friends and family.

Two hours later, the train to Basel clanked noisily into the station at 2.30 am.

Apparently thieves had boarded the train further up the line, and the ensuing police inquiry had caused the cancellation of subsequent trains. Our lone train thus held three trains' worth of passengers, jostling cheek-by-jowl for standing room only.

Each 6-seat compartment was smoky (despite regulations), and crammed with 6 or more bodies.  Windows were shut tight, and much loud snoring was heard.  Still wearing my backpack, I found a tiny space for myself, wedged in the narrow corridor, dwarfed by big, burly men on all sides. I stood 5'3" in my stockinged feet. It didn't take much to dwarf me!
by kind courtesy of
At such times, it helped me to remember that daily conditions were a lot more stressful in other parts of the world. Having been born in India, I had heard the tales my parents told about trains being draped with people there.

In later years, I would travel to India with my Mother and see such sights for myself. 

Were I not already exhausted that night, the conditions of this inter-continental train might have irritated me. Instead, I made the happy discovery that one can, indeed, sleep standing up on a moving train - just not for an extended period of time.
by kind courtesy of 
At Basel, Donna and I enjoyed a hearty breakfast, during which we missed our our original choice for our connection to Koblenz. 

We thus caught the relatively empty Trans European Express (TEE) at 08.18 instead.  This was a luxurious ride during which we reclined our seats, and slept till 10.45am.   But a couple of hours of sleep did not quite refresh us after a hideous night of 'standing room only'.

At the suggestion of fellow-travellers, we changed to a smaller train in Koblenz, for a 'must see' 2-1/2 hour side-trip down the Mosel Wine Valley to see the Porta Nigra in Trier.
Some weeks later, we discovered that Trier is located less than five miles from the border of Luxembourg!  
Because of our insistence on a hot shower, 
we had travelled, often painfully
for 18 further hours, 
only to return to 
within walking distance 
of our 
starting point 
!?

Evidently we'd needed to 
get there via "the scenic route"

---...---...--- The Mind Boggles! ---...---...---

by kind courtesy of 

Trier is famous for its Porta Nigra, which was one of four city gates, constructed during ancient Roman times. The graphic shows the existing "Black Gate" (in dark grey) and the rest of the structure, as it looked when built  between 186 and 200 AD.

Once our train had pulled into the station at 4pm, we both raced out to see the sites.
by kind courtesy of 
http://carverphoto.wordpress.com/2011/03/03/kunstgeschichte/
Rococco RC Church
After the Porta Nigra, we stopped in to admire the Rococo decor at St Paulin's church.

Then we ate a very German supper of sauerkraut and sausage, washed down with some bottled water.  I quickly learned that if you asked for a glass of water (in 1976) in Germany, you would be handed a glass of seltzer water.  
by kind courtesy of www.yumsugar.com


With precious little time to spare, Donna and I stepped into Germany's equivalent of a 'corner store' to buy some ice cold cokes for the journey back to Koblenz.

The Coke bottle handed to me had evidently been put into the freezer section because, when I tried to open it, it exploded all over me.
by kind courtesy of 
Both Donna and the shop attendant howled with laughter at the look of shock and horror on my face.  And I remember thinking, briefly, how  nice it was that Donna could laugh, even if it were at my expense.

I, alone, was NOT amused for I, alone, had rapidly warming coke dripping from my hair and eyelashes. It also ran down my face, to soak the entire front of my blue dress and open-toed leather shoes.

This sticky, nasty mess necessitated a complete, immediate and speedy wash-down, if we were to board our return train on time. I accomplished this feat in the tiny, and less than sanitary, wash-basin, which was situated at the back of the shop.

I removed and washed my dress, squeezing it dry between the available towels. Then, after rinsing as much of the soda as possible from my hair, body and shoes, I gingerly pulled the still sopping garment over my head and onto my body.

While this was a normal occurrence for me - in a dry dress - that wet dress fabric clung to my form. If you've ever tried to wriggle out of a wet swimsuit, you'll have an idea of the challenge I faced. 

We had a train to catch,  
there simply wasn't time 
to wait for my dress to dry!

by kind courtesy of 

Feeling like a bedraggled urchin, in ruined shoes, I summoned my dignity to request, a replacement coke. Then, with wet skirt flapping between my thighs, I practically ran out of that hapless place.

Donna, bless her, tried very hard not to chuckle at my continuing misfortune.  But the sales lady showed no mercy as she merrily chortled away.....such a cruel, wicked woman!

Okay, I admit my wet shoes did squeak like a mouse as I slithered sideways with every step I took!  Wet high heels (in 1976) were notoriously unstable, especially when one walked very quickly in them.  So, as I could no go barefoot in Trier, I merely attempted to slither and slide with dignity.

This day had been tediously long, hot and beyond bizarre. But at least I was finally clean(ish) as well as a lot cooler than I'd expected to be!  What did it matter if my dress flapped like a demented chicken with my every footstep?
by kind courtesy of 
Our return journey from Trier to Koblenz was, happily, a great deal quicker than our outward journey, which had stopped at every single village along the Mosel Valley.  

After my rude baptism by Coke, I slept in my wet dress for a further 1-1/2 hours before we reached our destination for that night.  While I slept, my dress dried into a rumpled mess that wouldn't be considered fashionable for several more decades.

But, one doesn't associate with models without learning a thing or two about presentation. So I wore my crumpled wreck of a garment as if it were a Givenchy original!  Mother would have been SO proud of me!

Donna and I had been anticipating a cold glass of Reisling in the relative quiet of our hotel in Koblenz.  But we arrived in the city at 8pm, to discover that there were NO inexpensive hotels in Koblenz, nor even a Pension that would fit our meagre budget.  

Our only option for that night was the Youth Hotel.  But first we had to discover its location and the road that would get us from here to there.  Eventually, a local couple guided us towards the Koblenz Youth Hostel.  Another hailed a kindly bus driver, who took pity on two travel-worn females. We were standing by the side of the road, shocked by our first sight of the impossibly steep hill we'd have to scale to reach it.

It's my guess that our driver was used to rescuing damsels in distress, since he refused to charge us for the ride.  A few minutes later, he stopped to let us off at the bottom of hill on the road that led to the hostel.
by kind courtesy of
The Koblenz Hostel was, at that time, housed in the Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, whose steep-sided hill looked even more daunting in the waning light.  

It took all of Donna's and my remaining mental and physical strength to climb that hill, whilst still wearing our backpacks.

We arrived at the entrance well before the 9 pm curfew. Unbelievably, the outer gates of the hostel had already been locked, effectively shutting Donna and me outside for yet another night.
Something inside me snapped - 
to quote Popeye the Sailor Man
by kind courtesy of

"That's all I can stands, cuz I can't stands n'more!"

We had travelled through 4 countries, 
with different currencies, immigration and customs, 
So I was determined to sleep horizontally that night. 
In a bed that didn't shake!
In the previous 24 hours I had:
  • endured a heatwave in Paris with Donna
  • refused a cold-water hotel room in Luxembourg 
  • slept standing upright in an overcrowded, overdue train
  • missed a planned train connection North from Basel (a blessing in disguise)
  • enjoyed several hours aboard the luxurious Trans European Express to Koblenz  
  • travelled the Mosel Wine Valley to Trier to see an historical site that turned out to be less than one hour's walk from our Luxembourg starting point of the previous night!
  • experienced being forcibly shampooed by an exploding coke bottle 
  • washed my soda-soaked self and dress in a filthy shop bathroom  
  • tried to find humour in walking about publicly in a sopping wet dress   
  • negotiated a steep cliff climb to a refuge only to discover it had CLOSED??!!
Much to Donna's chagrin, I pounded on those heavy wooden doors with my bare fists, all the while wailing that I would not stop creating a disturbance, until they let us both in.  Had the ground opened and swallowed Donna whole, I think she would have been grateful to escape the embarrassment.  I, myself, was beyond such qualms.

It took 20 minutes for someone in authority to respond, by which time I was tired and quite hoarse!

A sour faced woman led Donna and me to beds in different rooms, giving Donna refuge in the quieter adult room.  I didn't care. At least tonight we would both sleep.

After brushing my teeth, and washing the remaining sticky Coke from my person, I was ready for sleep.  That's when I discovered that my bunk was situated in a large room filled with giggling 10-year old English schoolgirls.  

It was, apparently, the only bed available for me, but I didn't mind. The girls reminded me of when my sisters were little. I was extremely tired and very grateful I had earplugs!

Too tired to care what my pint-sized roommates were saying or doing, I caught only a snippet of their conversation as I pushed earplugs home for the night.

....she just successfully 
infiltrated a German fortress! 

that was way cool to hear from 10-year olds!

I smiled to myself as I fell asleep. It had been a bizarrely busy and embarrassing day. But weI was thankful that I was strong, well-balanced and healthy enough to be able to handle it all. I was looking forward confidently, to the rest of my European Grand Tour.

After 22 hours of continuous travel, with its delays, missed connections, sight-seeing and exploding soda bottle, Donna and I deserved to sleep like a logs. And we did.  And - though that glorious night's rest should have prepared us both for a leisurely Sunday Cruise up the Rhine River -
my personal Rhine Cruise experience
was to destined to be anything but leisurely!

NEXT WEEK!
 GERMANY
Rhine Cruise Surprises 
German Beer, Brats & Bavarian Music
Sunstroke Solutions 
Angels to the rescue 
Train to Stuttgart

Hotel Wahr, Stuttgart