A bit further down from the centre was a main shopping street invitingly devoid of sunlight and having been rejuvenated by the Italian equivalent of a Knickerbocker Glory, we went in search of mementoes with renewed enthusiasm. Two handbags, one pair of earrings, and a Swiss Army knife later, we realised that we now had the place to ourselves and were free to wander and enjoy the towns splendours without having to negotiate small children and old grannies. It is a truly wonderful place, but you need to go early or stay late. On the way back we were overtaken by cyclists (male and female!) – were they in training for next year’s Tour de France, or ones from this year, who had got lost in the Pyrenees? We made it back to Bagni de Lucca just before 10.00pm, so decided to end our perfect day with a candlelit meal. We chose the most populated restaurant on the premise that a full establishment sold the best food – and at that time they were no longer busy. We started with homemade Tuscan soup followed by local trout and Graham ordered a proper Italian pizza (which he could only just finish). At the table next to us was a large group of people from Scotland celebrating a couple’s 40th Wedding Anniversary, which was very jolly. We had a lovely meal there and as we got up to go and pay, the proprietor poured us both a glass of grappa – a grape liquor (guaranteed to strip the paint from any surface). We explained that we too were celebrating our wedding anniversary, and he pointed to the chap next to us who said that he was celebrating 28 years!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Giorno Otto mercoledi 18th luglio
Another hot day and relatively late start. As usual we called in at the local supermarket for picnic provisions on the way. Once more we headed for Lucca, past Ponte della Magdalena, the choice of whether to cross over at the bridge (there are two roads both with good and bad points) dependant on the driver in front – it became a bit of a joke throughout the week as Graham would look in his mirror and make the comment: “I have my entourage back” we always seemed to be at the head of any queue. Was that because our bubble car lacked power, or are the Italians just faster drivers? Anyway, by-passing Lucca, we travelled past the antique shop which proudly boasted ‘Aporto’ at all times of the day and night and on towards the direction of Pescia. Stomachs rumbling, we stopped at Buggiano (strangely onomatopoeic) for lunch.
Hannah Gordon, Where Are You Now?
Several years ago, (while we were still at ‘the old house’) I was watching the television on in the afternoon (this was rare) and saw a programme called ‘Watercolour Challenge’ hosted by Hannah Gordon. It had been filmed at Montecatini in the glorious surroundings of what looked like Roman Baths. So when we first visited Italy and I found it was just ‘up the road’, I made a mental note to add it to the list of sights to visit. Last year we went in search of it, but only found the very picturesque village of Monticatini Alto, with no baths in sight. I knew it had to be there as I’d seen a picture of it in the guide book. We parked in the shadiest spot we could find and armed with a bottle of drink, headed for the nearest information centre. I was so desperate to find ‘my baths’ that I even summoned up my courage and asked the first couple we encountered and ask whether they spoke English (everyone does) and did they know where the Spa was. They looked incredulous at the question and waved in the general direction we were going – thinking me silly for asking! (Monticatini has at least seven spas!!) Luckily we soon found the information centre and a leaflet with a picture of the baths I was looking for. Strangely all the spas are situated in a wooded park area in the centre of the town. Some are ornamental (like the one I was looking for) while others just look like ordinary swimming baths and you can go and swim in them (I think it just costs more than an ordinary swimming pool). Within Five minutes we had located the spa in question, paid our 5 euros and were standing in wonder at the beauty of our surroundings…We spent a very happy and peaceful two hours there drinking in the atmosphere (not the water as it would have been difficult to drink salty water on such a hot day) with hardly anyone else there. We left at 5.00pm as the parking meter needed feeding, just as someone had begun to play on the grand piano…
Ride On A Funicular Train...
This however, was not the end of the excitement for the day, as we had seen a Funicular Train on our visit to Monticatini Alto last year and had resolved to treat ourselves to a ride on it. We spent a further hour going round the shops - it was even too hot to decide what flavour ice cream to have. Then moved the car to the nearest parking area. At seven o’clock sharp we jolted our way up the steep incline to our destination through dense undergrowth, past people’s back gardens and over precariously situated bridges. As we went up, we could see that another train was coming down, ‘strange’ we thought as there was only one track. At the centre point the track divided into two and the little trains passed each other and all the occupants waved. Once at the top, the air was fresher and we had the opportunity to explore all the old cobbled streets.
Al Fresco...
Their main square was set up with the choice of at least half a dozen restaurants and we were very tempted to stop, but as tomorrow was to be our ‘big day’, we thought it best to head home while it was still light. Another wonderful day almost over…
Thursday, August 09, 2007
"Butterflies Are Self Propelled Flowers"
Giorno Sette martedi 17th luglio
Today we planned to visit the Marble quarries of Cararra. We had intended to set off early, but having spotted a Swallow Tail butterfly in the garden, we stayed another half an hour trying to get ‘just one more’ elusive photograph.
Today we planned to visit the Marble quarries of Cararra. We had intended to set off early, but having spotted a Swallow Tail butterfly in the garden, we stayed another half an hour trying to get ‘just one more’ elusive photograph.
William Of Orange?
The trip to Cararra was pretty uneventful, down to Lucca, autostrada up to Viareggio, supposedly autostrada to Carrara, but having left the autostrada at Viareggio (it just petered out) it required a detailed knowledge of all Italian towns, North and South (which we didn’t have) a compass, a map and perhaps Randolph Fiennes – anyway the entrance remained elusive and after what seemed ages we arrived at Carrara. In a way, it was fortuitous, had we located the autostrada we would have missed driving through Massa (the town before Carrara) and seeing orange trees lining the main street (amazing!)
You Can't Ski On Marble!
The weather was scorching as we sat having our picnic in the car and were glad to only walk a short distance round the corner into The Marble Museum. The chap who ran the museum was really unhelpful and the only Italian we met who couldn’t speak English! The history contained in the museum was fascinating and the examples held there were varied, smooth and cool. We watched a video which told us everything we wanted to know, including details of the largest whole piece of marble ever quarried and showed film of how they transported it to the docks to be taken to Rome to be used as a monolith. (Luckily we had a choice of watching the video in English) Having left the museum we asked ‘grumpy boots’ where we could go and find a quarry and he directed us to the Information Centre across the road. There we met our only red headed Italian, who was extremely helpful and gave us several maps and clear instructions.
View Of Marble Quarries From The Car...
The sites we saw on the way to the quarries were breathtaking and if the photos look a little grainy, it’s because they were taken from inside the car as we went along. There just wasn’t the option of stopping at a good vantage point.
Quick Step or Tango?
Before long we were parked outside ‘The Largest Marble Mine In The World’ or so it said – which was strange as we expected them to be all quarries. There was a cardboard clock on the side of a small hut stating that the next tour would begin in about 20 minutes. We were told to come back nearer the time, collect a safety hat and board one of the Mini buses – but not to pay until we got back - which at the time seemed a little odd. Soon we were bumping along inside a huge mountain, hoping that the speck of light at the end of the tunnel would not disappear, but relishing the coolness of the constant 16 degrees centigrade (we even wore our coats!). We had a lovely guide who talked us through all the different processes used, her Italian accent using ‘the’ in front of every word and rolling lots of ‘r’s. We got to see and feel the helicoidal and diamond impregnated wire that the marble is now cut with. The size the blocks are huge and judging from the small amount of noise we made and how loud we seemed, to have men working machinery in there must be completely deafening. Apparently staying underground for eight hours at a time drives you potty and the miners see figures in the stone they have cut. We thought we could see two dancers and Madonna and Child in the cut face and we were only down there 20 minutes!! At the end of the tour everyone loaded back in the vans and trundled off. Unfortunately, where there had been three vans to bring us in, there were now only two and having been occupied by taking ‘just one more’ photo, we found ourselves without transport for our trip back to the outside world. “Don’t worry, we be back in 5 minutes to collect you” said our guide…after 10 we were beginning to worry…
Follow The White Dusty Road...
The scenery of the quarries was so amazing we decided to carry on a bit further to ogle at more of the same, but managed to miss a turning to Colonnata which we soon realised when the road abruptly developed ruts the size of small drainage channels and the incline changed to almost vertical. Hmm, time to turn back, the bubble car just couldn’t hack it! The joke of it was that a 4x4 had followed us up and whereas that’s exactly the sort of terrain meant for that sort of car, the occupants were clearly worried about getting dust on their paintwork!
After that we made our decent to the town of Carrara, had a nice walk round, an ice cream in the park and then on to Viareggio. There’s something about Viareggio as a seaside resort which just oozes class and makes you want to come back. Posh shops on the seafront and an endless supply of inviting restaurants allowing you to sit outside in comfort., what more could you want? We chose the one with the most people (it was obviously popular) and luckily we didn’t have to wait too long before we were seated between a table of old ladies and their sea food platters (was that really a small octopus I saw disappearing into the mouth of the lady with orange hair?) and another table of a young couple who had mussels followed by a florescent coloured pasta. We on the other hand had melone e prosciutto - Graham’s favourite, (I’d rather eat them separately) then I had grilled Seabream (disappointingly had too many bones and not enough flesh, but tasted very good and Graham had breaded veal. By this time it was now 10 o’clock and we realised that we hadn’t even seen the sea, so we found a place to cross the sand (most areas are cordoned off and you hire a sun bed for the day in an enclosure) and made our way down to the water where a new moon was attempting to balance on the end of a newly built pier…
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
En Route To Lucca...
This bridge is known locally as 'Devil's Bridge' and the story behind it is quite remarkable. According to legend, the Devil offered to build the bridge in return for possession of the first soul to cross it, the 'canny' villagers agreed and when it was finished sent a dog across...
Giorno Sei lunedi 16th luglio
Some places you visit on holiday are like visiting Sirens, you feel compelled to go back every year. Nothing compares with the rush of excitement as you round the corner, even though you know nothing will have changed. Lucca is one of those places. It is a walled town of amazing beauty and however many times you visit, you will find new treasures to marvel at. We always enter Lucca at the wrong gate, so for future reference, it’s best to go in via Elsa Gate. Around the inside of the walls is the main parking and we’ve never had a problem finding a space, just make sure you go armed with enough Euros, as it’s 1 per hour. (I’m beginning to sound like a tourist guide) Lastly, remember to head for the Information Centre first as you will need a map. (End of lecture!) The one thing we hadn’t quite planned for was the intensity of the heat, but at Lucca it is always breezy, so this helped. First we had a picnic on top of the town ramparts. It wasn’t any different from last year, but it was oh so good to be back, to drink in the atmosphere and to watch the world go by on their bicycles.
Some places you visit on holiday are like visiting Sirens, you feel compelled to go back every year. Nothing compares with the rush of excitement as you round the corner, even though you know nothing will have changed. Lucca is one of those places. It is a walled town of amazing beauty and however many times you visit, you will find new treasures to marvel at. We always enter Lucca at the wrong gate, so for future reference, it’s best to go in via Elsa Gate. Around the inside of the walls is the main parking and we’ve never had a problem finding a space, just make sure you go armed with enough Euros, as it’s 1 per hour. (I’m beginning to sound like a tourist guide) Lastly, remember to head for the Information Centre first as you will need a map. (End of lecture!) The one thing we hadn’t quite planned for was the intensity of the heat, but at Lucca it is always breezy, so this helped. First we had a picnic on top of the town ramparts. It wasn’t any different from last year, but it was oh so good to be back, to drink in the atmosphere and to watch the world go by on their bicycles.
Not Quite Alice...
View Of, Anfiteatro Romano, Taken In A Mirror, Lucca, Tuscany, Italy
Originally uploaded by Geraldine Curtis
Elton At Lucca...
Lucca, like all Italian towns has a main square (Piazza Napoleone) where concerts are held each year. You do have to pay for the ones at Lucca, but I was so disappointed to find that Elton John had played there the day before we arrived in Italy and Norah Jones on the Saturday! We did have the choice of seeing Ricki Martin or George Michael, but that would have been all our holiday money gone and we were already racing through it at a rate of knots.
Too Hot For Singing...
I had planned to visit the Puccini museum which had been in a state of renovation during our first visit two years ago. but although the scaffolding had been taken away and there was a notice: ‘Museo Di Puccini’, the museum itself didn’t exist. (It was housed in a modern prefab on the town walls) We treated ourselves to an ice cream at the Piazza Anfiteatro and would still be there, but had to go to get out of the heat. Next we headed for the cycle hire area. Graham didn’t think we’d manage it in the heat, but I was determined to prove that I could now ride a bicycle with ease now that my hernia has been mended. I was in a bit of discomfort, but it only hurt during and strangely not after the event. We had to leave about 6.00pm to get back to base reasonably early. Graham had arranged to have a ‘phone conference’ with a firm in New York at 8.00pm, so we collected a few provisions at the local shop on the way back and while Graham held court for over an hour, I borrowed his camera and attempted to take pictures of the villages on the opposite side of the valley which were so beautifully bathed in the golden evening light.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Oh To Be Back In Longoio...
Giorno Cinque domencia 15th luglio
Sunday was our first rest day and I celebrated by having a mammoth lie in (I think I forgot to get up). By the time I did come round, the sun was hot and Graham had already reached the fifth chapter of a book he’d found to read. We continued with a leisurely morning spent sunbathing, me washing my hair and then cooking a sparse Sunday dinner consisting of chicken with lemon, potatoes wedges laced with olive oil, (found in the cupboard) rosemary (cut from the bush in the garden) and sea salt (also found in the cupboard). By 4.00pm, the heat was just about beginning to retreat (we hoped) – so jumped into the bubble car and set off in search of a village we could just make out clinging to the mountain in the distance.
The roads in Italy are very narrow and winding – unless you have been there you can have no concept of how bad they really are. Unfortunately they are a means to an end and unless you follow their tortuous route, you have no chance of reaching you goal and as every village has a certain charm there’s no other way. So it was we began our little ‘jaunt, me holding on tight to the door handle trying to combat the centrifugal forces and Graham with both hands gripping the steering wheel, looking every bit as though it would snap off in his hands!
Sunday was our first rest day and I celebrated by having a mammoth lie in (I think I forgot to get up). By the time I did come round, the sun was hot and Graham had already reached the fifth chapter of a book he’d found to read. We continued with a leisurely morning spent sunbathing, me washing my hair and then cooking a sparse Sunday dinner consisting of chicken with lemon, potatoes wedges laced with olive oil, (found in the cupboard) rosemary (cut from the bush in the garden) and sea salt (also found in the cupboard). By 4.00pm, the heat was just about beginning to retreat (we hoped) – so jumped into the bubble car and set off in search of a village we could just make out clinging to the mountain in the distance.
The roads in Italy are very narrow and winding – unless you have been there you can have no concept of how bad they really are. Unfortunately they are a means to an end and unless you follow their tortuous route, you have no chance of reaching you goal and as every village has a certain charm there’s no other way. So it was we began our little ‘jaunt, me holding on tight to the door handle trying to combat the centrifugal forces and Graham with both hands gripping the steering wheel, looking every bit as though it would snap off in his hands!
View From Our New Friend's House...
We stopped first at Palleggio, a delightful village complete with the usual vineyards, olive groves and built on a steep hill (which makes sense of the fact that the only animals you see in these parts are goats). We parked at the bottom and found a path to lead us up to the centre. Graham was about 5 metres in front – I’d stopped to take a photo or two and on my way up a set of steps I bumped into two old ladies who addressed me in French (they thought I was French, I was so glad they did as I could understand them) After exchanging pleasantries they said we must come and meet ‘so ‘n’ so’ (didn’t catch the name) as we were English. We weren’t quite sure why we needed to talk to this chap, but trying to be polite we thought we should at least say ‘hello’. What happened next was slightly bizarre…
It turned out ‘The chap’ (we never did catch his name) had lived and worked in Chicago for 29 years, married a Filipino (having met her in a very strange set of circumstances) and he had returned when his mother was ill (she no longer with us) and his wife had stayed in America. So now he was an Italian who spoke English/American with Italian intonation (which made him quite difficult to understand) and had a wife who visited him every year…It seemed the natural thing to do to show us around his Italian home (one of my greatest ambitions). All Italian homes are dark and cool inside.(it makes sense) The large double glazed front door led directly into the living room which was dominated by a huge flat screen television in the centre of a floor to ceiling sideboard, this led through to a large kitchen with an anti-room with a small sink to the side. Back through the living room there were other rooms, bedrooms, ensuites (for when his brother from Canada came to visit) and we were even shown his mother’s bedroom, with a large mother of pearl inlaid bedstead, (luckily no sign of the body) and his room with very modest 1970s fittings. It turned out he’d been a machinist who had a keen interest in cameras (he had several Leicas). All in all it turned out to be a very memorable occasion – and all because he so missed conversing in English…
It turned out ‘The chap’ (we never did catch his name) had lived and worked in Chicago for 29 years, married a Filipino (having met her in a very strange set of circumstances) and he had returned when his mother was ill (she no longer with us) and his wife had stayed in America. So now he was an Italian who spoke English/American with Italian intonation (which made him quite difficult to understand) and had a wife who visited him every year…It seemed the natural thing to do to show us around his Italian home (one of my greatest ambitions). All Italian homes are dark and cool inside.(it makes sense) The large double glazed front door led directly into the living room which was dominated by a huge flat screen television in the centre of a floor to ceiling sideboard, this led through to a large kitchen with an anti-room with a small sink to the side. Back through the living room there were other rooms, bedrooms, ensuites (for when his brother from Canada came to visit) and we were even shown his mother’s bedroom, with a large mother of pearl inlaid bedstead, (luckily no sign of the body) and his room with very modest 1970s fittings. It turned out he’d been a machinist who had a keen interest in cameras (he had several Leicas). All in all it turned out to be a very memorable occasion – and all because he so missed conversing in English…
Friday, August 03, 2007
Third Time Lucky - Don't Forget To Book!
Giorno Quattro sabato 14th July
Saturday dawned as hot as ever. Eager to get to the Ducati Factory in plenty of time, we checked out of the hotel, filled up with petrol and attempted to negotiate the tangentale. Unfortunately we managed to get on going the wrong direction, but eventually, with 5 minutes to spare we made it to the meeting point along with about 20 other eager anticipants. Luckily they arranged for two groups to go round, one Italian and one English (although in our group, I believe we were the only real English people, others were from America, Australia etc) All the males spent the whole time with a look of amazement on their faces, finding it hard to believe they were really there. All the females on the other hand had a strange air of resolve – it’s now 11.00am and they shut at 1.00pm, only 2 hours and we can get on. To be fair it was an interesting experience, the factory had people working on the bikes even though it was a Saturday and the actual areas were kept very neat and tidy – in fact you could have eaten your dinner off the floor it was so clean. We saw all the bikes in various stages of completion. As a male dominated country our guide was keen to point out the value of having female workers saying things like: “ We need women to machine these particular parts as they are the only ones with small enough fingers to get to the tiny parts”. And “ We give the job of collecting all the parts of the engine to women as they are good at shopping and they collect the parts in a shopping trolley”. Each engine is assembled by one person and they have to complete one engine in 45 minutes (which doesn’t sound long in view of all the bits involved) and if there is any trouble with an engine they know exactly who to go to! We saw some of the tests the bikes are put through on rolling wheels and rows of bikes ready to be delivered to different countries. For example, a bike going to the US will need to be fitted with an extra filter and side reflectors to conform with emission regulations, whereas a bike bound for Europe won’t need these modifications.
Saturday dawned as hot as ever. Eager to get to the Ducati Factory in plenty of time, we checked out of the hotel, filled up with petrol and attempted to negotiate the tangentale. Unfortunately we managed to get on going the wrong direction, but eventually, with 5 minutes to spare we made it to the meeting point along with about 20 other eager anticipants. Luckily they arranged for two groups to go round, one Italian and one English (although in our group, I believe we were the only real English people, others were from America, Australia etc) All the males spent the whole time with a look of amazement on their faces, finding it hard to believe they were really there. All the females on the other hand had a strange air of resolve – it’s now 11.00am and they shut at 1.00pm, only 2 hours and we can get on. To be fair it was an interesting experience, the factory had people working on the bikes even though it was a Saturday and the actual areas were kept very neat and tidy – in fact you could have eaten your dinner off the floor it was so clean. We saw all the bikes in various stages of completion. As a male dominated country our guide was keen to point out the value of having female workers saying things like: “ We need women to machine these particular parts as they are the only ones with small enough fingers to get to the tiny parts”. And “ We give the job of collecting all the parts of the engine to women as they are good at shopping and they collect the parts in a shopping trolley”. Each engine is assembled by one person and they have to complete one engine in 45 minutes (which doesn’t sound long in view of all the bits involved) and if there is any trouble with an engine they know exactly who to go to! We saw some of the tests the bikes are put through on rolling wheels and rows of bikes ready to be delivered to different countries. For example, a bike going to the US will need to be fitted with an extra filter and side reflectors to conform with emission regulations, whereas a bike bound for Europe won’t need these modifications.
Read The Notice!
Graham With His Tee Shirt And Renewed Dreams With Hyper Motard, Ducati Museum, Bologna, Italy
Originally uploaded by Geraldine Curtis
Eager to get off to the holiday home, we navigated successfully to the Autostrada, but had to wait at least half an hour to join the flow, the volume of traffic being so high on a Saturday. Eventually the miles melted away and after a brief stop for sandwiches we were nearly there - but not before we had witnessed a forest fire and a helicopter overhead carrying a full load of water attempting to extinguish it. Back on familiar territory we felt at last we could being to relax and having stopped at the local shop for provisions, we began to wind our way up the hillside out of Bagni di Lucca up to our destination of Longoio.
Almost, But Not Quite...
Giorno Tre Friday 13th July
Packed and ready, we were off on the Autostrada by 10.30am after a quick trip to the local supermarket for drink and fruit. The journey down to Bologna was uneventful until the navigator decided to advise the driver to come off one stop too soon. Italian road signs are confusing at the best of times, but eventually we had located the tangentziale (ring road) and the sign for Borgo Panigale – the home of Ducati. Having visited the place two years ago on our first trip to Italy, the road was at least familiar and the walk from the car park to the barrier entrance was filled with anticipation. It was not Saturday, (day we had travelled there before), it was not midday (when they close) what could go wrong? Well, it turned out you now have to book – OK and we needed to do that at 2.00pm. We headed for the nearest supermarket and a spot of ‘hamburger a cheval’ (that’s a bit how it tasted) for lunch and waited for 2.00pm to arrive. We should have taken more notice of the date, Friday the 13th as we found out by 2.00pm that there were no spaces left today. I felt really sorry for Graham and his disappointment, but the good news was, we could visit the factory at 11.00am the next morning, hooray!!
Packed and ready, we were off on the Autostrada by 10.30am after a quick trip to the local supermarket for drink and fruit. The journey down to Bologna was uneventful until the navigator decided to advise the driver to come off one stop too soon. Italian road signs are confusing at the best of times, but eventually we had located the tangentziale (ring road) and the sign for Borgo Panigale – the home of Ducati. Having visited the place two years ago on our first trip to Italy, the road was at least familiar and the walk from the car park to the barrier entrance was filled with anticipation. It was not Saturday, (day we had travelled there before), it was not midday (when they close) what could go wrong? Well, it turned out you now have to book – OK and we needed to do that at 2.00pm. We headed for the nearest supermarket and a spot of ‘hamburger a cheval’ (that’s a bit how it tasted) for lunch and waited for 2.00pm to arrive. We should have taken more notice of the date, Friday the 13th as we found out by 2.00pm that there were no spaces left today. I felt really sorry for Graham and his disappointment, but the good news was, we could visit the factory at 11.00am the next morning, hooray!!
The Long Walk...
Covered Walkway, Basilica Della Madonna Di San Luca, Near Bologna, Italy
Originally uploaded by Geraldine Curtis
Orange And Blue, Complimentary Colours...
The Building itself was quite plain, but the orange colour of the walls, contrasted with the deep blue of the sky and made for the most impressive sight. The church inside took your breath away, - it was awesome in the true meaning of the word. We listened to the history on a dial up machine and were just about to explore all the features mentioned when we approached by the man sweeping the floor. Apparently I had committed a cardinal sin of not having my shoulders covered (enough) for a church and we were politely asked to leave.
Time now to return to the centre of Bologna and find our hotel. With the aid of a map we’d bought in the supermarket, it was located easily and we were soon in our ‘executive’ suite (It really was posh!) I had a rest while Graham went for a swim in the outside pool. Surprised that he returned so soon, it turned out that having taken the plunge, he’d surfaced to find the pool side taken over by tanned Italian girls and to say the least, he felt a bit out of his depth!!
Dinner at the hotel was expensive and generous, prosciutto and melon (I had salt beef and rocket) followed by chicken and cheese and mediterranean vegetables (I had Sea Bass and more lettuce- but too much olive oil)
Dinner at the hotel was expensive and generous, prosciutto and melon (I had salt beef and rocket) followed by chicken and cheese and mediterranean vegetables (I had Sea Bass and more lettuce- but too much olive oil)
The Bellissimo Buildings Of Bologna
'Mine's Bigger Than Yours', Towers, Centre Of Bologna, Italy
Originally uploaded by Geraldine Curtis
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Cruising Around Venice...
Day Duo Thursday 12th June
Rising late we missed the coach load of American 18-30 year olds and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of six cups of tea (they were tiny) and a piece of toast. Feeling like ‘olds hands’ we set off for the station clutching our train tickets purchased from the hotel and arrived in plenty of time to ‘activate’ them using the machine on the platform. Half an hour later we were marvelling at our first sight of Venice looking as it always does – as though straight out of the holiday brochure. Pit stop at the station toilets (they’re very few and far between in Venice), photos of the undercarriages of trains (I try to be patient) and off on the No 82 water bus to Sans Marco. Strangely, this year we seemed to go the wrong way round and were treated to the sights of industrial area of Venice, but we did see the huge cruise liners (which did look just like the images in the Sunday Telegraph magazine) waiting to transport their expensive cargo on to the next resort.
Rising late we missed the coach load of American 18-30 year olds and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of six cups of tea (they were tiny) and a piece of toast. Feeling like ‘olds hands’ we set off for the station clutching our train tickets purchased from the hotel and arrived in plenty of time to ‘activate’ them using the machine on the platform. Half an hour later we were marvelling at our first sight of Venice looking as it always does – as though straight out of the holiday brochure. Pit stop at the station toilets (they’re very few and far between in Venice), photos of the undercarriages of trains (I try to be patient) and off on the No 82 water bus to Sans Marco. Strangely, this year we seemed to go the wrong way round and were treated to the sights of industrial area of Venice, but we did see the huge cruise liners (which did look just like the images in the Sunday Telegraph magazine) waiting to transport their expensive cargo on to the next resort.
New Take On Scene At San Marco Square...
San Marco was as photogenic as ever, but this didn’t stop me taking loads of photos, but I did try to think of a different angle. We sat outside and had our lunch which seemed a snip at £22.00 for two chicken burgers – the drinks costing as much as the food!!
Vivaldi, One Of Many Sons Of Venice...
Miniature Violin Next To Full Size, Vivaldi Exhibition, Venice, Italy
Originally uploaded by Geraldine Curtis
View From Ponte Dell'Accademia
Everything about Venice is beautiful, the buildings, the canals, the gondoliers, the list is endless. Although we left hot, very tired and our feet hurting, I’m now planning our route for when we come back next year.
Ponte Di Rialto, Venice, Italy
A trip to Venice would not be complete without visiting Ponte Di Rialto - best shopping area too. I bought my third Murano watch there this year!
Night Time Excursion...
We arrived back at the hotel about 8.00pm. I washed my hair, Graham answered some emails and at 9.00pm off we set again in the car in search of the seaside. We knew we had little chance of finding it, especially in the dark, but hey, we were trying to make the most of the time we had. We ended up in a place called Jesolo, it had a river and a tower and a very ambient atmosphere. As we made our way on foot to the centre, we thought we could hear the sound of live music. Except this wasn’t just any old music, it was a brass band and it sounded wonderful. Pity was we arrived just as the final chords were struck – but it was wonderful even so- and the musicians, they were teenagers from Weymouth!!
We did get rather lost on the way back as it was so dark. We eventually arrived back having travelled the 'quick' route back via an Autostrada.
We did get rather lost on the way back as it was so dark. We eventually arrived back having travelled the 'quick' route back via an Autostrada.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
First Photo, On Holiday In Italy
Day One: Wednesday 11th June
It’s a funny thing about holidays, the day before you go you feel as though any time away cannot be fitted in – there is just too much to do. But having turned the key in the door, stepped away from your responsibilities, you know you can become someone else for a week (or 10 days) face adventure and believe in your dreams. For all too soon it will all be over! Lucky I can savour it by writing this blog and sharing the experience…
Stephen (Lucy’s friend) collected us from home and took us to the airport. Lucy came too for company.
No hold-ups, and 4.15pm (3.15pm) saw us safely in Venice awaiting our baggage. The first year we came to Italy (three years ago), we had a diesel Fiesta which was ideal for pulling up steep hills and hugging the tight corners – and it was very economical. Last year’s car was far too big, but then we had Robert and Lucy with us, so we were looking forward to a small car again. I wasn’t quite sure what we’d let ourselves in for when Graham announced we’d been allocated a Ford Ka. OK it was small, but would how far would we get in this bubble car!
It only took us 15 minutes to get from the airport to the hotel and we were ready to go out by 7.00pm. This year instead of catching the train to Venice, we decided we’d ‘head for the hills’. We’d only travelled about 2 miles when I called a photo stop. I’d seen an impressive tower with the sun on it, backed by the clearest blue sky you could imagine. Stopping did involve going round a round-a-bout and retracing our steps, but it was well worth it.
It’s a funny thing about holidays, the day before you go you feel as though any time away cannot be fitted in – there is just too much to do. But having turned the key in the door, stepped away from your responsibilities, you know you can become someone else for a week (or 10 days) face adventure and believe in your dreams. For all too soon it will all be over! Lucky I can savour it by writing this blog and sharing the experience…
Stephen (Lucy’s friend) collected us from home and took us to the airport. Lucy came too for company.
No hold-ups, and 4.15pm (3.15pm) saw us safely in Venice awaiting our baggage. The first year we came to Italy (three years ago), we had a diesel Fiesta which was ideal for pulling up steep hills and hugging the tight corners – and it was very economical. Last year’s car was far too big, but then we had Robert and Lucy with us, so we were looking forward to a small car again. I wasn’t quite sure what we’d let ourselves in for when Graham announced we’d been allocated a Ford Ka. OK it was small, but would how far would we get in this bubble car!
It only took us 15 minutes to get from the airport to the hotel and we were ready to go out by 7.00pm. This year instead of catching the train to Venice, we decided we’d ‘head for the hills’. We’d only travelled about 2 miles when I called a photo stop. I’d seen an impressive tower with the sun on it, backed by the clearest blue sky you could imagine. Stopping did involve going round a round-a-bout and retracing our steps, but it was well worth it.
Church and Tower Near Quarto D'Altino, Italy
I think we managed about 3 more miles before the same thing happened again! Not such an impressive tower, just part of a church, but right next to a very picturesque river bend. As we snapped our way to the riverside, we stumbled upon a water clock. I wish I could have transported my dad there to see it, he would have loved it.
Fitting End To Our First Day On Holiday
Next we headed past Treviso with its impressive city walls (must stop and explore there next year) and on up into the mountains. We didn’t get far, but as the sun was setting at 9 o’clock, we were standing above a water treatment plant on an untarmaced road trying to capture the last rays of the first day of our holiday.
Returning in the dark on the ‘wrong’ side of the road wasn’t easy, but after just one “but I think we should be going that way”, we were back at the hotel, glass of wine in hand and steadily emptying the vending machine of its crisp-like offerings.
Returning in the dark on the ‘wrong’ side of the road wasn’t easy, but after just one “but I think we should be going that way”, we were back at the hotel, glass of wine in hand and steadily emptying the vending machine of its crisp-like offerings.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
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