Rome ::: Day 2 ::: Vatican Museum

Note to everyone. When making plans to meet someone at the Vatican Museum, be more specific than, "I'll see you in the line at 8:00."

The previous night, I made a plan with Jonathan to meet him early at the Vatican Museum for free admission day. I was expecting the line to be long, but really had no concept of what that actually meant.

From the moment I got off the subway, I felt I was in a race with priests, nuns, and every other tourist in the world. I didn't even have to know where I was going. I just followed and passed everyone that I possibly could.

It felt much like a cattle drive. Except we were the cows.

I stood for an hour and a half in what could most accurately be described as a corral. At the end of my race to the line, I found myself fenced in, Vatican wall on one side and the street with a makeshift fence holding me in on the other, and standing several people deep.

I didn't dare leave my spot in line to walk up and down looking for Jonathan. In the span of a couple minutes, I saw the line stretch out behind me and out of sight. I had expected to be able to line jump when I found him, but the fence made this an impossibility.

I walked around the Vatican Museum for a few hours, trying to keep an eye out for my friend, and admiring the frescoes, vaulted ceilings, mosaic floors, religious symbols and everything else. The museum is quite massive, taking you though numerous chapels, galleries, and corridors. Needless to say, without cellular technology and a more specific plan, Jonathan and I never successfully connected.

The Sistine Chapel was dark and packed wall-to-wall. It was fun to contemplate the ceiling between shouts of "NO PHOTO" and "SSHHH" from the security guards.

After a busy morning at the Vatican Museum, I headed back to Legends Hostel, to once again carry my luggage to the train station, then to Chianti Hotel.

I had a chill remainder of the day. I stopped at a cafe for an espresso and cannolo, napped, watched some movies in the tv room at the hostel, ventured out to a local Irish pub for dinner, and called it an early night.

My, my. Look at that. Vaulted coffers. A friend told me before I left to keep an eye out for all the vaulted coffers. Afterall, they are the best kind of coffer, he said. I've been staring at ceilings all over Europe, and I finally just found some in a dome at the Vatican Museum. I was actually quite excited about this, like I'd just found the proverbial needle in a haystack.

 

In Rome

Everyone can exhale. I made it out of Naples alive.

And to answer one of my questions, instead of umbrellas, the foreigners sell sunglasses when it's sunny. Makes sense.

Today has been totally consumed by traveling. I took the regional train because it's cheapest, but it also takes 3 times as long as the Eurostar train.

Once I got to Rome, I discovered that my hostel didn't have my reservation because I didn't actually book the bed until tomorrow. Sigh. But, I found another hostel to stay in for one night on the opposite side of the train station.

I've walked from the train station to Chianti Hostel to the train station to Legends Hostel to the train station, back to Chianti Hostel to get my bags, to the train station to Legends Hostel. And if that wasn't enough, I walked back to the train station this evening to pick up some beer.

I'm hanging out in the kitchen now. Some Aussies across from me are playing 500, the traditional Swenson family card game (Hi Grandma and Grandpa!).

Not sure what else is in store for me tonight. I'm guessing early to bed.

Arriving in Napoli and Day 2 ::: More Rain

Since the Cinque Terre was rainy, I decided to head south to Naples, where the weather forecast said 30 degrees Celsius and sunny. Imagine my disappointment when I get here to find that it's pissing down rain.

To top it off, by the time I made it here, I had completely worked myself up to a paranoia about being out in Naples after dark.

The previous night, the bartender at Bar Centrale tried to tell me that Naples is not a good place for a woman traveling on her own. Too many Moroccans, East Europeans, and corruption. I even received a cautionary email today from Iacopo.

Of course, if I listened to everyone who has told me that traveling alone is not a good idea, then I would still be sitting in my apartment in Minneapolis. He doesn't know it, but I took the bartender's word of warning as a dare. How could I not come to Napoli.

Still, once I arrived in Naples, I felt a little more stressed than usual. So I attached myself to an Australian woman who spoke Italian, asking her if we could share a cab, since we were going to pretty much the same place.

I didn't really know what to expect from Hostel of the Sun because the tourist office lady found the bed for me. When I got there I immediately de-stressed. There would be no repeat of the Patrizia experience here. There was a very young crowd hanging out and working there. People were chilling in the living room watching movies, talking, eating, and checking out Facebook.

They didn't have a bed for me today, so I carried my heavy bags in the pouring rain to 6 Small Rooms. It's a chill hostel. Way too uptight. Lights out at midnight, and one of my dorm mates just asked if I could turn off my reading light!?! The only redeeming quality is that it has a resident cat that likes to hang out with me in my bed.

My day was spent walking around in the occasional downpours. I saw a castle. I ate a hefty lunch of pasta and calamari.

Tonight, I went out for a Neopolitan-style margherita pizza, which Naples does especially well. So delicous amazing awesome! The freshest tomato sauce, mozzarella (with a large dollop in the center), and basil.

And despite all warnings, I even went out alone at night and made it back to my hostel safe and sound.

Few things that have left an impression on me in Naples:

1) There are foreigners selling umbrellas everywhere. Granted, it's been raining off and on today... so I wonder what they do when it's not raining.

2) Naples seems to have a lot of stray dogs. :( They look well-fed and everything, but they're just really sad looking. I saw several curled up and sleeping in the middle of a square.

3) Pedestrian crossing lights here are the exception, not the rule. You just have to kind of throw yourself into traffic and hope for the best. This is infinitely more terrifying than skydiving. I'm pretty sure that if anything kills me here, it will be a car. So hold your breath and pray for me until I arrive in Rome tomorrow. Pretty sure it will be the same story there, though.

4) It's a much bigger city than Florence, and not nearly as beautiful. But it does have the weathered looking buildings that I loved in Venice. And because the city is sort of situated on a hill, everyone seems to have French doors that lead out onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. Gotta love that.

Skipping Town

Patrizia's hostel has 3 sleeping areas. A "dorm" with 3 beds. A "private" room with 2 beds. And a "wtf" room, which is a bed in the living room, opposite a couch, which probably gets sold as a bed, as well.

Originally, Patrizia had tried to put me on the bed in the living room. I said no because there was no place to lock up my bags. So she put me in the dorm room with an Aussie couple.

When I got in late that night, I told them I would sleep in the living room, since no one was there. They said that it was just the 3 of us, so I might as well see if the room next door is open. It was, so that is where I slept.

The next morning Patrizia came in. When she saw that I had taken the private room she flipped out. Yelling at me in Italian and English, she says that a couple had tried to come in very late, saw that I was in the bedroom, and left, renting a room from somebody else instead.

This did not happen.

My points of proof: 1) The trains don't run that late. Unless these travelers have a car (extremely unlikely), there would be no way to reach Riomaggiore after 10:30pm. I got in at 12:30am. 2) Except for the bar, the town is completely shut down by 10pm. There would have been no one else to rent a room from. 3) I'm a light sleeper. I did not hear anyone come in. Nor did the Aussies.

Patrizia is a liar, and she was trying to intimidate me into paying 50 euros for this fictitious couple.

After she left, the Aussies and I agreed that the best thing to do is leave without checking out and submitting to her demands. She didn't have my name or passport information, so skipping town without consequence seemed entirely possible.

There are two ways to get to the train station. The direct route down the hill and past her office. Or the back route, involving some steep hills and stairs. I decided to take the back route. It made me sick having to sneak out of this beautiful town, as if I was committing some crime.

The Cinque Terre is so beautiful (and I've only seen it in the rain). But a town, no matter how beautiful, is nothing without good people. If I hadn't met some fun locals the night before, Patrizia might have permanently tarnished my image of the Cinque Terre. As it is, I would still like to go back someday.

The 20 minutes I had to wait at the train station in Riomaggiore were the longest 20 minutes of my life. I kept expecting to see a wild-eyed Patrizia come running around the corner with the polizia. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and I am now several hours south in Napoli.

Travel lesson number 2: Follow the rules, dot your i's and cross your t's with the Italians. Mine isn't the only story. They're not above making a big show of emotion to make you feel like you owe them something. Like whatever insignificant thing is going to cause the entire space time continuum to unravel, throw our planet out of orbit, and cause the sun to explode.

A little perspective, please.

Cinque Terre ::: Day 2 ::: Exploring the 5 Towns

When I woke up it was raining outside. Not at all ideal, considering the whole point of being in the Cinque Terre is to hike.

So Jonathan went and did his laundry. I slept in. We then attempted to hike to the castle in Riomaggiore, but turned back when it began to downpour.

He decided to leave early, not totally calling the trip to Cinque Terre a loss, though. We did have an amazing meal with each others' good company, a room with a great view, some drinking with the locals, and what little he did see of the Cinque Terre was beautiful.

I wasn't going to give up so easy, though. I checked into the hostel, and once the rain let up I went out for a hike around Riomaggiore. When I accidentally ended up at the train station I bought a ticket to Monterossa, the last of the five towns.

In Monterossa, I sat in a cafe overlooking the ocean, writing and eating some lunch, while it downpoured again. By the time I was finished, it had cleared up and I attempted to hike again.

I started the hike between Monterossa and Vernazza, which had incredible views. I got to a point, though, where I needed to make a decision to go right or left at the top of a bluff. The path to the right looked washed out, so I went left. This led down along the bluff, and about halfway down I realized it was heading back into Monterossa. By this point, I didn't want to turn back. There were some pretty hairy parts I passed, where one slip on the wet ground would have led to certain death at the bottom of the cliff leading down to the ocean. 

After doing this loop, I decided to go back up, and perhaps try the path that led right. However, once at the top, a couple informed me that the path to Vernazza was closed due to a landslide.

I had no other option than to get back on the train in Monterossa. I got off in Vernazza. Walked around a little bit, and then got back on the train to Riomaggiore, since it was getting dark and the trains fewer and further between.

I ate a nice dinner by myself and then went back to Bar Centrale to watch futball. I got to talking with Stefano, a local wine maker, until the bar shut down just after 12:00. Honestly, I think I only understood about 50% of what he had to say, but it was fun nonetheless.

The view from where I stayed my first night in Riomaggiore.

Riomaggiore.

Monterossa.

The non-dangerous beginning of the trail from Monterossa to Vernazza.

Vernazza.

Leaving Florence ::: Pisa ::: Cinque Terre

On Tuesday I left Florence. I returned to the Ponte Vecchio to pick up my corral necklace and stop for an espresso and canollo at Ocafe again. I didn't intend to make any other purchases, but I accidentally bought an Italian leather handbag in the Mercato del porcellino (the one with the pig).

I jumped on the train to Pisa. Threw my luggage in storage when I got there, did a speed-walk to the Leaning Tower to take some photos, just so I can say I saw it, and then did a speed-walk back to the station to jump on the next train to La Spezia.

From La Spezia, it's just a 10-minute train ride to Riomaggiore, the first of the five towns in the Cinque Terre. I finally made-up for all the missed connections I've had along the way by throwing myself on what I thought might be the last train to Riomaggiore, just as it was scheduled to leave. Of course, it ended up leaving 3 minutes late, so the running and leaping onto the train was totally unnecessary. My god, people must think I'm a spaz.

It was getting dark and overcast by this point, but as soon as I saw the Mediterranean I was all smiles. I love being by the water. The sound of the surf is the most calming sound in the world.

From the train station, I walked under a long tunnel and up a very steep hill to find... Jonathan! We had been keeping in touch via email, with the idea of booking the same hostel in Rome. It just so happens that we were both going to be at the Cinque Terre at the same time, as well.

It was exceptionally lucky that I ran into him at the hostel office in Riomaggiore when I did. If I hadn't, I would have been out of luck on getting a hostel room and would have had to rent a much more expensive room on my own. Not to mention that Jonathan had already been through the painful process of talking to the surly man who shares an office with Patrizia, the hostel proprietress.

Patrizia was long gone for the day, and Surly didn't want to let him use the phone or leave his luggage or exist anywhere within 20 feet of him. Jonathan and I were chatting just outside his closed door on the street about what to do now. Surly went so far as to tell us he didn't like the sound of our voices, can we please go somewhere else.

So we walked directly across the street and rented a room from his competitor, Edi.

We split the cost of a 50 euro room with two beds, a huge bathroom, and the most amazing view of the Mediterranean. Edi was awesome. He led us through some steep and winding alleys to get to the room, but he carried my luggage for me. What chivalry. :)

Jonathan and I found an amazing restaurant. We split a bottle of wine, ate pasta with pesto, a local specialty, and I had a pumpkin and leak soup, infused with nutmeg.

After that, we found a bar where the locals were hanging out watching the futball game, and had a great time drinking beers and listening to them get excited about the match.

See, that's the Leaning Tower.

Here's me in front of the Leaning Tower, looking unimpressed.

Look at the people pretending to push in over and hold it up.

And here's me with a Leaning Tower hat.

Florence ::: Day 5 ::: Walking Tour, Duomo, and more Opera

This was the first day I made it down for free breakfast! Totally lazy, us Americans. I had a couple American roommates a couple days prior that didn't get out of bed until 11:30, and that was only because housekeeping made them get up.

My catalyst to getting up early was so that I could take advantage of the free walking tour of Florence that leaves Archie Rossi each day at 10:00. Many of the sites we visited are ones I had already seen, but this time I was able to get some background and history. Afterward, I backtracked to the Duomo to get a peek inside.

The interior of the Duomo is very simple compared to the outside. The most elaborate decoration is the painted frescoes on the dome. They are so gorgeous and the figures look somewhat 3 dimensional, as if they're sitting on a ledge overlooking the people below.

Once again, I tried to coax my roommates to come out with me, this time to the free concert at Maria de'Ricci. Again, they preferred to hole up in the dorm room all night.

Travel lesson number 1: Always say yes. If someone in your hostel invites you out for a drink, concert, walk... skydiving, SAY YES.

They missed out. The concert was doubly amazing than the one a few nights earlier and the one that I had paid to see. It was the same organist and oboist, but the singer was different. She was perhaps in her fifties and had the most lovely voice. It brought tears to my eyes when she sang Ave Maria. When I told Sophie this, she asked if I had been drunk. I wasn't. It was just that beautiful. Which pretty much sums up all of Florence.

Mercato del porcellino. For good luck in business, it's customary to rub the porcellino's nose.

The red lily represents Firenze.

Some photos of the Duomo above.

Photos of Maria de'Ricci, where the free concerts are held.

The Duomo at night.

Florence ::: Day 4 ::: Boboli Gardens

On my fourth day in Florence (Sunday), I visited the Boboli Gardens, a huge estate behind the Pitti Palace. From the gardens you get a spectacular view of the city. The gardens are so massive and the terrain so hilly, that it actually felt like I was hiking and alone. Loved it. So much fun.

On my way back to the hostel, I sat and had a cannolo and espresso at Ocafe, a very modern looking, upscale cafe and restaurant along the river. Very tasty and very reasonably priced.

I then stopped at a jewelry store on the Ponte Vecchio. I decided that I wanted to get myself one lavish gift as a souvenir of my travels and my favorite city, Firenze. The reddish color of the corral necklaces in all the shops definitely make me think of Tuscany. The shop I went to agreed to make me a custom necklace that is a double strand of corral beads, which meant I would need to stay in Florence until at least Tuesday morning, so that I could come back to pick it up.

My evening plans weren't so exciting. Sadly, Abby had to leave in the morning. I had a tough time talking my new roomies into coming out for a drink, they preferring to stay in the dorm, instead. Sofie, a young Aussie, ended up coming to the pub with me for just one drink. She was fun, but not so interested in being adventurous.

Florence ::: Day 3 ::: Uffizi Gallery and Opera

My third day in Florence wasn't terribly exciting. I think I did laundry in the morning. Then I went to see the Uffizi Gallery, which has a lot of Madonna and Child and early Renaissance paintings, as well as Botticelli's Birth of Venus. I kind of cruised through the museum. Architecturally, the museum wasn't interesting or even beautiful inside. And seeing that sort of art outside of the context of a church makes it less interesting to me.

That night, Abby and I went out to dinner. We drank good wine, ate good pasta, and swapped past traumatic relationship stories. We then crossed the street to listen to opera. A male and female singer sang a selection of famous arias from La Traviata, Tosca, La Boheme, La Vedova Allegra, Rigoletto, and Il Barbiere di Siviglia. I know nothing about opera, but I enjoyed it. Afterward, we found a pub, drank a few a beers and had some laughs.

Abby is hilarious. First of all, she is sooo English. As you know, tea is very important to the Brits. She packed her own electric teapot, teabags and biscuits. This amuses me to no end.

Second, she has a comedic perspective on things that I really appreciate. She's kind of like the female equivalent of Bill Bryson, my favorite travel writer. Very witty, funny and over-exaggerating.

Abby was commenting on how fashionable Italian women are, and how she constantly has to move out of their way and apologize. She wondered what might happen if two Italian women were to approach each other on the street. Who would get out of the way? Would it be a battle of will? A battle of fashion? Or would they just run into each other?

And then there are the toilets. Some toilets in bars don't have seats. Abby comes back and is like, "How do they expect us to relax our muscles enough to pee while balancing on a razor's edge?" Maybe you would have to be there, but this still just kills me.

Traveling is the best way to meet people, and I am seriously going to miss this when I come back home soon.

I will, however, not miss the smell of moldy clothes, travel towels and shower sandals, coffin-like showers, flimsy mattresses, and living out of a suitcase. But I guess you can't have everything when touring Europe.

Florence ::: Day 2 ::: Accidental Tourist

A lot of people like to have an itinerary when they travel. I take a different approach, when I know I have the time. I like to just head out with an open mind and find what I find. So on my second day in Florence, I walked around, stumbling upon piazzas and Florence's many beautiful buildings and churches by chance.

I found the outdoor market right away. It's located just down the street from the Archi Rossi hostel. Here many vendors sell leather coats, purses and belts, interspersed by stalls of cheap souvenirs and scarves. I didn't want to buy a leather coat, but I was offered a free boyfriend, instead. 

In this area I also found the covered food market, where I bought some dried strawberries, and a tasty lunch of fresh tomato, mozzarella and lettuce on bread, with an espresso.

I found Piazza della Santissima Annunziata, where locals and travelers sat sunning themselves on the steps of the Accademia.

I found Piazza della Ignoria by the Uffizi Gallery, where they have a replica of Michelangelo's David and several other interesting sculptures.

I found the Uffizi Gallery, the Arno River, and Ponte Vecchio, a bridge lined with jewelry stores. The middle of the bridge has a railing where people have attached hundreds of padlocks. I would later find out that this is a joke. There is a sign on the railing that I missed, which says "do not attach locks." I think this is supposed to mean that you're not allowed to lock your bicycle here. People have taken the sign literally, though, and attached padlocks to be cheeky.

Lastly, I found Piazza de' Pitti, where I sat in the sun, listening to my iPod and people-watching.

That evening, I met Abby, from England, and Vivianne, from Oregon. I shared my bottle of wine as the 3 of us ate our free dinners in the Archi Rossi cafeteria.

We went out to find some drinks, but stumbled upon a church instead, the Maria de'Ricci on Via Degli Speziali, that has a nightly free concert. So we went inside and listened to an organist, oboist and operatic singer, filling the small church from marble floor to vaulted ceilings with their incredible music.

I was sitting on a bench next to an old man, swaddled in a large blanket. Soon after sitting down, he revealed a bottle that he was hiding, tipping it towards me to offer me a swig. Abby, sitting next to me, thought this was hilarious. And it was, but I declined.

It was all downhill from there. In a husky, barely understandable voice, he tried to carry on a conversation with me during the concert. A lot of accusing looks and shushing was directed at him (and me). Abby, Vivianne and I had no other choice but to get up and stand at the back of the church because he wouldn't stop. It wasn't my fault though. He kept talking to himself even after we got up.

Afterwards, we got some wine, talked for a while, and called it a night.