Como, Venice, and Rome - Week 2

Lake Como
In Park City, UT, there is a gallery of fine art photography called "Windows to the World" that Paul and I love to visit. For years now, we always stared at one photo in particular of a cobblestone street, talking about how we would love to find the place because it seemed so magical and enchanted. After some research, we learned that the place was located in Bellagio, on Lake Como in Italy. So we made our plans and showed up with high hopes. Bellagio was quaint and lovely and quiet, nestled on a wooded peninsula of an ancient lake, but ultimately, the three days we spent there was a little too quiet for our tastes. But it was still beautiful, nonetheless.






There were extensive gardens stretching along the water's edge and extravagant villas with sycamore trees pruned to resemble candelabras. We rode water ferries between towns and hiked over to Villa Balbianello where Casino Royale and the second Star Wars movie were filmed. We climbed up to a medieval castle and clandestinely tried on the rusted armor on display when no one was looking. And we even cooked dinner for ourselves one night in the tiny kitchen in the apartment we had rented. Who knew that the Barrilla pasta I have been buying in the grocery store turns out to be the real deal?









Venice

Venezia is one of our favorite places. We love getting lost in the narrows streets and alleyways and discovering forgotten bridges and shops and cafes. Paul loves the dilapidation you see everywhere - the crumbling plaster and exposed bricks, the weathered wood and worn stones. And the lighting is ever-changing, which makes it a photographer's dream. I even got a little over-tired of taking photos and opted to spend the morning going through the Doge's Palace or St. Mark's Cathedral while Paul wandered around on his own looking for new angles and perfect lighting.










Paul took a ferry over to the island of Burano one morning and took these photos of the colorful houses he found there.






In the evenings, after the crowds from the cruise ships had gone, we would go back to St. Mark's Square to eat gelato and listen to the small orchestras play or watch the brides and grooms who would come to have their photos taken in the evening lighting of the square. Some people danced, but Paul nixed that idea.


Rome

We only had about 5 hours in Rome before we had to catch our plane to Greece, but we made the most of them by revisiting our favorite spots from our previous trip there. After grabbing a Nutella gelato at the Blue Ice shop (Paul's favorite), we sat and licked our fingers at the Trevi Fountain. We also went over to the Spanish Steps but were again thwarted by the heat and sun in any desire to climb them.






That night we slept in the Athens airport on the cold hard floor. It was miserable. But Greece was worth it. More to come...

Nice, Monaco, and Cinque Terre - Week 1

Nice, France

One of our favorite things about Europe are the beautiful outdoor markets where vendors under brightly striped awnings sell fresh flowers, fruits, vegetables, cheeses, honey, candy, fish, soaps, baguettes, and much more. We spent a morning wandering through, enjoying the scents, sounds, and sight of so many beautiful things and watching the locals make their purchases alongside tourists buying satchels of lavendar from Provence.





Another of our favorite things in France is the food. Especially the warm fresh breads and the delicious berry tarts.



We also spent a glorious afternoon on the French Riviera enjoying the sun and surf. We were surprised that there was no sand anywhere. The whole area is just covered in small, smooth grey, purple, and green rocks. At first we thought it might be uncomfortable, but it turned out to be bliss to be able to throw out a towel and lay out without getting sand all over everything. And the rocks were so warm and nice to lay on. It also meant that the water was a crystal clear aqua-marine. Oh, and of course since this is the French Riviera, there were topless sunbathers. But not as many as I had anticipated and it was almost exclusively the older women with leathery wrinkled skin who had their tops off. It reminded me of the changing room at the Rec Center I swam at during high school - laughably commonplace and not at all erotic. Within twenty minutes, the site of somebody's saggy boobs didn't phase us a bit. In fact, it became kind of a fun game to walk the beach and see who could spot a "nudy" first. Like "Where's Waldo?" but without clothes. Some of the men in tiny speedos made it a difficult call every now and then though to discern whether we had spotted the real deal or not.



Monaco

Monaco is only a 25 minute train ride from Nice, and the whole country is very walkable because Monaco is so tiny. But it is all hills, and steep ones at that. Monaco has to be one of the cleanest, brightest places I have seen in Europe. The harbor was filled with million-dollar yachts that literally looked like miniature cruise ships. We trekked up to the Monte Carlo Casino and enjoyed the gardens, art, and exotic cars that were everywhere. I have never seen so many Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Aston Martins (my personal favorite), and Bentleys in my life. Paul was drooling. It was just like "Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous". In fact, you should imagine Robin Leach narrating this entry.




Anyway, we walked the route where the Grand Prix is held in Monaco each year which is easy to identify by the red and white striped lines painted along the route. All throughout Monaco there are signs about Grace Kelly, the American actress who married Prince Ranier of Monaco, and it was fun and interesting to stop and read those. We also hiked up another hill and wandered cobblestone alleys with tiny shops that surround the castle where the royal family lives before hopping the train back to Nice.




And if you remember my blog post about getting trapped at the Chateau d'Nice, here is a photo of the view that we were trying to get that night:



Cinque Terre, Italy

We rode trains between France and Italy that stretched along the coast. So pretty much the entire way we were able to see the blue-blue Mediteranean and all of the people who were swimming in it. If there was any sort of access to the water, there were people swimming. I will forever remember the Mediteranean that way.


Anyway, we spent three days in Cinque Terre which are five little villages built on the sides of cliffs on in tiny natural inlets along the Italian coast. People have lived in these villages for over a thousand years, fishing from the ocean and developing the mountainous slopes into terraced farming of grapes for wine and olives for oil. There is a trail between the villages that we came to hike, that takes you up into the mountains where the farming happens, and down next to the ocean where people swim and fish, and through each of the towns where you can stop to eat a gelato, browse souvenir shops, fill your water bottle from local fountains, or just relax on the steps of an ancient church building. Each village has its own look and personality and we spent some time in all of them.




Monterrosso has the biggest beach, filled with playfully stripped umbrellas that beachgoers will rent. Paul and I spent our last day in Cinque Terra here swimming in the perfect water.


Vernazza is the second town, and the one where we spent all three nights in a quaint affitacamere, or guesthouse. Our little apartment had two bedrooms and a living room with antique furniture and even a piano, and we had to climb steep steps that were actually part of the Cinque Terra trail to reach the front door. This was a killer workout for our quads. Vernazza has a great little marina where we watched a water polo match one night, and went swimming on another day. It is filled with cute rowboats that the Italians take such pride and care in, keeping them painted in vibrant greens, yellows and reds.






Corniglia is the middle town and has the most medieval feel to it. We ate the most amazing bruschetta for lunch on stone steps carved out centuries ago. Seriously, I have never had better bruschetta in my life and likely never will again. It was my favorite lunch of the whole trip.



Manarola has the most dramatic entry because there are no glimpses of it along the trail. Instead, you walk around a blind corner and there it is, majestically perched over a tiny marina. We went back by train one evening to watch the sun go down and take photos of Manarola in the evening light. We also ate at a really good restaurant here that I don't have photos of where I got some delicious ravioli - yum.


The hot afternoon sun made us pretty grody looking:




Riomaggiore is the last or first town, depending on whether you start the trail from the top or the bottom. We also went back here one evening by train to take photos of the boats bobbing in the water in front of the town. There were huge boulders that we clambered out onto which protect the little harbor from harsher winter waves in order to get these shots. It wasn't so bad in the daylight, but getting back over them in the dark was a little trickier, especially since I was wearing one of my skirts that doesn't have as much stride as some of the others.



There is so much more to say about Cinque Terre, but really its the kind of place that begs to be experienced. Hopefully Paul's photos convey at least a little of the flavor of what it was like there, but you also have to add in the sound of an evening ocean, young people laughing and swimming, the tinkling sound of silverware on plates at the restaurants with only six tables, the cold sweet taste of melting gelato, and the feeling of heat releasing from rocks after the sun has set to get a more complete sense of the place. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip.

Bad Dates

Remember in "Indiana Jones - Raiders of the Lost Ark" when Indy grabs a handful of dates and tosses one up to catch it in his mouth, but his friend snatches it out of the air last second and points to the dead monkey with the ominous line "bad dates" to indicate that the dates had been poisoned? Well, as I was lying on the bathroom floor of a hostel in Cairo feeling like I was about to die from food poisoning, that was the line that came into my mind and I started cracking myself up despite being utterly miserable. I think I got it from a caravan-style Egyptian lunch Paul and I had the day we went around seeing the pyramids from some bad yogurt or creamed aubergine or something rather than the dates we had at the end of the meal, but I'm not positive. Fortunately Paul didn't come down with it, so he went out and found me some medicine and coke to settle my stomach, but I was pretty much out of commission for three days in Egypt.

Needless to say, Egypt was not such fun times.

But, in brighter news, we are HOME now! I know, finally, right?! We got home yesterday afternoon and I showered TWICE (which was much needed after over 48 hours of non-stop travel - self-inflicted based on lack of desire to spend an extra day in Cairo site-seeing rather than sitting in an airport terminal playing poker (Paul just taught me how) from about 8:00 am when our sleeper train got in until about 12:30 the next morning when our flight actually left). And OMG it felt SO GOOD to sleep in our own bed. Well, at least our bed at my parents' house, which is where we are staying between trips. And to eat anything but McDonalds, which is pretty much the only thing I felt safe eating in Egypt after the incident with the dates. And to hang out with my fam-damily and disburse souvenir gifts we brought for everybody.

So, I promise that pictures are on their way. In fact, we may even throw some up here later today (its 4:30 in the morning and Paul and I are both awake, still dealing with the lingering effects of jet-lag). Paul has had memory cards uploading ever since we got home yesterday afternoon and he still has a couple to go. We have something like 3,500 photos to upload. Then we will narrow down favorites and finally have something to show that we were actually all the places we have claimed to have been.

But just to give you a preview, here's one from Santorini:

Am I seriously complaining? Maybe a tiny bit.

Yesterday we were in Istanbul and it was cool and rainy and very autumny. The air smelled of roasting chestnuts and rain and sycamores. Today we are in Cairo and it smells of exhaust fumes and baking pavement and camel dung.

We have been hassled incessantly by street touts. And we went all day without eating anything other than a bottle of water and a couple of cookies because it is Ramadan (something like forty days of fasting where food and drink is only consumed after the sun goes down and before it comes back up) and we couldn't find a place selling food during daylight hours until we made it to the Pizza Hut by the pyramids around 5:00 where I proceeded to drink an entire liter of Fanta and eat half a pizza.

Not that I am really complaining. But at least after one day, I've gotta say that Cairo is not my favorite place. Tomorrow we are going to get out of the city a little bit and walk around Giza and Saqqara and Memphis, but then we are heading down to Luxor the day after where I hope it won't be as crazy as it is here. Although the forecast is for temperatures around 104.

I'm thinking its maybe time to come home soon?

Getting hit on in Turkey

Turns out Turkish men have the cheesiest pick-up lines ever and they use them all the time. A favorite question of all the hawkers is "Where are you from?" just to draw you into conversation so they can then pitch their wares to you. So today while we were walking through the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul I didn't really pay much attention when some random guy at the spice section asked the now familar question. But when I answered "From the U.S.", his response was "Oh, because you look like you are from paradise." Nice one buddy. Less then two minutes later, while Paul was trying to take a photo at another spice booth and I was checking out the various tea concoctions that smelled amazing, another store owner tells Paul that the picture "will not be beautiful unless she is in it," motioning to me. And on our first night here, a Turkish guy on the bus we were riding tapped Paul on the shoulder and asked if I was his sister or girlfriend. When Paul got across that we are married, the guy gave him a pat and a big thumbs up.

I probably wouldn't mention this except for the fascinating gender discrepancies I have been noticing throughout Turkey, which is actually extremely liberal for a country that is something like 99% Islamic. But there have been hardly any female workers anywhere. In fact, lots of the time you don't see any women at all except for tourists. When we do see women, their heads are almost always covered, and we have even seen a number of women in full burkas. Today I even browsed through a quite fashionable shop that caters to muslim women by carrying only shirts that go to the wrists and skirts that go to the ankles. And yet I went in because the clothes in the store windows were so beautiful. I didn't realize until I was already walking through the store that I was the only person in there with my head uncovered.

So I don't think that it is so much my appearance that gets all the attention here, but the mere fact that I am a woman and bold enough to walk around with my head uncovered that makes guys think that I am scandalous or something. Turkey has been an incredibly eye-opening country - more so than a lot of the other places we have traveled.