Good flight from Pisa to London Gatwick, where we’re overnighting before Westjetting back to Canada Tuesday. Some great views en route from the plane window – including the highest peak in the Alps (Mont Blanc), the UK south coast town of Hastings (of 1066 battle fame), and the characteristic green field pattern of much of southern England (despite the huge population of this part of the country).
It’s Monday lunchtime and for once we are actually enjoying waiting at an airport for a flight, as our freebie ticket gave us access to the posh lounge here at Pisa. It’s very comfortable (if it loads, see picture of me nearly falling asleep) and there are hardly any other passengers here. We have three hours to kill until our flight to London Gatwick on the first leg of our trip home. So far there is no sign of the disruption and cancellations caused by air traffic controllers here last Friday, thank goodness, but we better not count our chickens to soon.
Last night we had arranged to take Simon, Valentina and the girls out for a special ‘thank you’ meal at the Castle Trebbio, a medieval castle barely ten minutes from their house. We had learned that they had never eaten there but had visited the site several times and had been tempted more than once. We had a great time, with superb food, but the tables were turned by Simon and Valentina who had quietly arranged to pay the bill. It was very generous of them, so we return to Canada with a few Euros in hand for our next visit.
And talking of Euros, or rather the wider 28-nation European Union, there was much lively discussion over the weekend around Thursday’s referendum on whether Britain should remain a member or leave the Union, and whether the monstrous murder of a British MP might sway options.
Simon is on the opposite side to us, and as we both have votes there will be a bit of cancelling each other out (he wants out, we want to stay in) but the discussions we had were very constructive and we all agreed this is such a momentous decision for the nation that it could have enormous implications not just for the UK but could also create a domino effect outside Britain with unknown consequences.
If the final picture loads, it is of Simon with Lea (left) and Lisi (right) preparing to return his mail-in ballot in favour of “Brexit”. Our counter-votes are being cast by a proxy nominee living in Britain who we trust and who we have authorized to vote on our behalf. (For those of you mystified about how it is that any of us have a vote on this issue, as none of us is resident in the UK, the law states that Britons living abroad, and who choose to register, can vote solely in national and European elections for 15 years after they leave the UK, as decisions of the U.K. Government in London and the European Parliament in Brussels – especially on economics, pensions and defence – could directly affect them).
With the opinion polls suggesting a very tight result, it will be a late night for both Simon and us as the results are declared from each of the 630 UK ridings / constituencies on Thursday before the final national totals are known. For the record, all our family – Italian and Canadian alike – vote in what is called the Meon Valley constituency of Hampshire. That’s the last place we lived before heading off to other lands.
It’s now Sunday afternoon and we’re having fun with the Italian branch of the family in the Tuscan countryside about half an hour’s drive from Florence, although we won’t be visiting the city on this visit – but that is by choice rather than circumstance.
However, we did set off in two cars yesterday to a hilltop monastery in a beautiful setting – although it was a bit of a disappointment to find on arrival the internal public areas were about to close for three hours at 12 Noon. But we did have an enjoyable time with the three grandchildren [Lisi (7), Lea (5) and Emily(1)] on a nearby playground, checking out the surprisingly large fish and numerous tadpoles in the monastery lake, and trying to understand how toy parachutes operated by catapults work in a nearby sloping field. A visit to a supermarket followed on the way home, so we could prepare a meal for the family on Saturday night, the requested highlight of which was to be cauliflower cheese (we are going out tonight, fingers crossed). Later, Philip played pictorial card games with the kids in the garden and – as in Croydon at that start of this holiday – he expressed some concern that he didn’t have to pretend how to lose to the grandchildren, since it appeared to come naturally.
Sunday morning saw Simon (with Emily on his shoulders), Lea, Philip and me taking our traditional trek up the steep hillside from their home village of Santa Brigida to an ancient Catholic sanctuary. Our knees were still hurting a bit from the Cinque Terre walk, but we made it OK, if more slowly than in the past, and – being a Sunday – we found the sanctuary open for the first time in our experience.
It was quite fascinating – in simple terms, many centuries ago some local girls believed they had seen the Virgin Mary appear before them, and in the centuries that followed it has become a place of both pilgrimage and sanctuary. The rock on which the Madonna is said to have appeared is the key relic in the church – Simon told us some non-believers suggest it is a meteorite, so explaining its dramatic arrival startling the girls; but to believers its is a holy relic to be venerated. The steep trek up from the village, which we had followed, was marked by the Stations of the Cross in old but still finely-detailed terra-cotta tiles, all carefully protected now by tough perspex.
While we were on our trek, Valentina and Lisi were preparing lunch; if the picture loads, you may notice the salad dish Lisi decorated. Also in the pictures are some of the garden games – we had borough all three of the kids animal face masks, and while these were not expensive they turned out to be the hit of the gifts.
We did our heavy duty journey today; rolling and carrying suitcases, backpacks and bags through town to the station in La Spezia, catching the train to Pisa (nice journey on a beautiful morning), Philip carting both our big suitcases up a flight of stairs as the elevator at Pisa station was out of action (we had checked it last Sunday and it was out of action then too…), running to catch the bus to Pisa Airport, and a spot of lunch in the terminal before collecting our rental car. We had arranged to collect it from the airport as that’s where we will have to drop it off on the way home.
But lo, what did we see on casual observation of the departures/arrivals screens? Lots of cancellations (including the BA flight we are due to get on Monday). We found out later that Italian air traffic controllers are staging lightning strikes at present – a few hours here, a few hours there, without warning. So we may not get back to Gatwick on Monday on our almost-free flights after all…
Then we had to get our Avis car rental sorted out – which had indeed been free with our BA points. Philip waited 40 minutes before spending another 20 minutes filling in all the forms and collecting the keys. The car we had originally been allocated turned out not to be suitable for all our luggage so he upgraded to a slightly larger automatic. This, plus the various extra insurances, cost him 120 euros for three days! So not so free after all….
And when we got in it and started to drive away, he noticed almost immediately that there was an alarm light on. We turned back – still within the car park – and found out a tire was almost flat, so we were moved to another car, luggage and all. We finally left the car rental place at the airport 90 minutes after entering it, but in a comfortable and adequately-sized VW Polo, with fully-inflated tires.
Our journey went well and we are now at Santa Brigida, above Florence, awaiting the arrival from an end-of-term school party of son Simon and their three little girls, Lisi, Lea and Emily. Simon’s wife Valentina will be back later – she took a professional examination today, but has apparently already heard she has passed, so that will be another reason to celebrate together tonight.
Simon had left us a key to get in and a bottle of wine, so having unpacked we are now sitting in their small but sunny back garden enjoying its contents.
We finally made it to the Cinque Terre today, taking a train from La Spezia to Monterosso, the furthest of the five villages. If the concept of the Cinque Terre is new to you, it is also to most Italians. Our daughter-in-law, Valentina, whose family originally came from La Spezia, had never heard of the Cinque Terre until Simon’s American students kept telling him it was top of their list of places to visit while in Italy, and he asked her about it.
Five colourful cliff-hugging villages (Monterosso, Vernazza, Cornigilia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore) are all within a national park that is also classed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. They are marketed as the Cinque Terre, the most beautiful part of the “Italian Riviera.” There is a regular ferry and a train service linking them all, and there are lots of trails of various degrees of difficulty which go along the cliff edges and through terraced vineyards. The villages are indeed extremely pretty – as you can see from the photos – but they still seem to be in shock about what happened to them in a very short space of time.
A few years ago, the Cinque Terre was made known to North Americans through a very flattering Rick Steves’ TV travel program, which has been repeated many times since it was first broadcast. As a result, combined with some canny marketing by the Italians in the States, the Cinque Terre has become almost a pilgrimage for Americans in particular – although there were almost as many Japanese in view today. So, during the summer, large numbers of non-Italians arrive by train and by ferry boat (it’s very hard to get to the villages by car) to spend a few hours in one or more of the villages. This has had the effect of making them into tourist traps of dubious, pricey food and cheap souvenirs, where tourists mill around trying to decide what to do/buy/eat. At least they face such dilemmas in unquestionably beautiful locations.
More agile visitors are encouraged to walk one or more of the trails that link the villages, and we decided to do the one from Monterosso to Vernazza – a mere 3.2 kilometres, according to the guide, so roughly equivalent to our daily walks with Daisy in Seal Bay Park back home. Except that our routes through Seal Bay are on the level, and this route involved a total of around 1,000 rough rock steps upwards (thankfully not it all in one continuous section) as we left Monterosso … and a similar number down again as we approached Vernazza. The end result was a two-and-a-quarter hour hike (we felt quite good at that timing as the guide-time is 2 hours and we had to stop quite often for other walkers). It proved to be a killer on ancient knees, but spectacular in terms of the views, and we’re glad we completed it. But boy, was it hot! The best weather of the holiday so far – but the most energetic: not the best combination.
Three things other than the fantastic scenery and high temperatures were memorable. First, about a quarter of the way along the route we came across an old guy playing his accordion. As we exchanged smiles, tossing a coin or two in his hat, we noticed his little dog lying in a basket completely upside down with his legs in the air basking in the sun. Next we discovered an enterprising woman at the edge of a vineyard selling lemonade – freshly made from fruit growing on the spot, as somehow she had found a source of power on the hillside for her electric juicer…the cable disappearing into the distance through the vines. We gladly bought a glass. And finally, among the many other walkers we encountered along the way was a large man with a prominent beer belly wearing nothing but his trainers and underpants (which looked suspiciously like those Philip buys from Mark’s WorkWear, so I fear he might have been a Canadian). He was carrying another very wet garment in his hand – not sure if it was his shorts or a top – but as we followed, he proceeded to scrunch this up and put it on his head. We did not make contact, and let him get well ahead of us to avoid any incrimination by association. We saw him later just leap into the harbour at Vernazza, possibly prior to his arrest….
After a large beer and light lunch, we caught then train to one of the other villages, Riomaggiore, where we wandered in the heat for 15 minutes before succumbing to a gelato and deciding that we ought to call it a day and return to base at La Spezia for a nap (today re-titled as a ‘knee-resuscitation’ session). Later we did a bit of packing it readiness for our morning departure for Pisa and then on to Florence tomorrow to meet up with Simon and family for the final weekend of the holiday.
The weather today (Wednesday) was good enough for our planned boat trip to the coastal village of Porto Venere, which had been strongly recommended to us by the apartment’s owners even though it is not one of the “Cinque Terre” communities that are the real target of our stay here.
It was obvious before we got to the dockside that there were hoards of people of many nationalities around, and we soon saw why: if we thought yesterday’s German cruise ship had a big impact, today La Spezia is playing host to the world’s biggest cruise ship – Royal Caribbean’s new Harmony of the Seas, with 16 floors of cabins capable of accommodating 6,000 passengers (as well as 2,500 crew in the bowels). Certainly not our taste in cruising.
We managed to squeeze on our little trip boat and half an hour later – having passed several Italian and visiting navy ships, and various yachts clearly owned by mega-millionaires – we arrived at picture-postcard-perfect Porto Venere, which we explored on foot for the next couple of hours. It occupies a strategic place at the entrance to the bay, and it’s history can be traced back to 161 AD when the Romans established a station here to support their sailing routes to Gaul (now France) and Iberia (Spain). The waterfront was teeming with visitors, as was the most accessible church on the cliff edge, dating from 1277 but built on the site of a much earlier Roman temple. But the crowds soon thinned out as we clambered further up the hillside to explore another church (built 1116) and the castle fortifications (1160-61). In fact, for several minutes we saw not a soul in any direction, which was quite odd as there must have been several thousand people within a half-mile radius.
The local bird life here is clearly well used to visitors – we were amused to see how gulls would pose for minutes on end for the benefit of close-up shots, and the only sign of avian alarm was when Philip peered over a wall to find a gull tending to her two youngsters.
We had been recommended by our hosts to seek out a particular restaurant for lunch located some way from the main tourist area, but when we eventually found it, it was shut for the day. So we lunched at a fish restaurant two doors away, which was very smart (and with prices to match) where Philip was pretty horrified to be served a version of scampi the likes of which neither he nor I had ever seen before. He ate it, but without much enthusiasm, but I did get to sample a variety of fried seafoods which was a good experience for me.
As it would be another two hours before our return boat was due to sail and it had begun to rain, we decided to abandon ship and caught a local service bus back to La Spezia, being taken on a twisty mountain road at considerable speed by an Italian driver who clearly – and thankfully – knew what he was doing on some of the hairy bends.
Tonight the centrepiece of our dining at home will be the contents of a doggie-bag we were presented with last evening (without even asking for it) – various hams and cheeses from a rustic backstreet trattoria which was also a recommendation of the apartment’s owners. We dropped by a local shop this evening for fresh bread rolls, and the supermarket for some more wine, and we’re all set.
Tomorrow – hopefully – we will finally go to see the Cinque Terre villages, after having called up Rick Steve’s travel TV show about them on our iPad to recall what we shouldn’t miss. The joys of free WiFi!
Not sure if it was all the traveling and carting stuff around yesterday, but by this morning (Tuesday) we both felt we wanted to do nothing more than idle around La Spezia, so put off a planned boat trip until tomorrow. Having done that, we’re now hoping the weather will hold, as during the night we had a tremendous storm, with the thunder, lightning and the sound of pouring rain waking me at 5am – although Philip didn’t stir.
The long-awaited revenge of Thor didn’t last long though, and since we got up it’s been an overcast but warm day, with a few short bursts of sunshine intermingled with occasional spots of rain – but nothing to dissuade us from walking the streets to explore the town and its port. The place is surrounded by a semi-circle of steep hills, with the main road into the centre emerging from a tunnel, above which steps lined with palm trees lead to what seem like endless terraces of properties until a defensive castle at the top is reached. We resisted the temptation to climb them, so missed out on hearing about the castle’s no-doubt fascinating past.
We had lunch at a place heaving with locals – always an encouraging sign in my book – that had been recommended to us by the apartment’s owners. There we enjoyed a local savory speciality called a farinata. This is like a large, thin pancake, but actually made with chick pea flour, which comes either with added ingredients (mine had fried onion) or an accompanying side (Philip had runny cheese). They were delicious – I shall have to conduct trials to create the correct batter mix when I get home. While dining, we noticed from our placemats that the restaurant, which is called ‘La Pia’ and which has been in business here since 1887(!), recently opened its first overseas outlet – in Ladbroke Grove, London – offering the same menu, but at prices double that on offer here. Still, the property rent and staff wages in the UK capital must be double those here, too….
Our exploration of the town took us to a huge semi-outdoor market, with the most amazing number of competing fresh grocery, fish, cheese and meat stalls – if the photo loads, what you see is just the fruit and veg section of the market; the total area is about four times as big, and the market is apparently open six morning a week. What a resource to have on your doorstep!
We also witnessed cruise ship vacations from a different angle to that of being recent passengers. La Spezia is a decent-sized commercial and navy port, but tourism seems to be relatively new here. But some cruise companies have noticed the potential, and today a big German ship – the AIDA Stella – was berthed, and many of its 2,200 passengers not booked on excursions were wandering aimlessly around town, frequently checking their watches to make sure they got back to the Mother Ship in time. We recognized ourselves in them, but from the vantage point of being (temporary) residents of the town with no particular schedule to keep.
We did, however, do the tourist ‘thing’ of each having an ice-cream cone mid-afternoon, but didn’t need much persuading as what claims to be the best gelato in La Spezia is at ground level in our apartment block, so has been a constant temptation since we arrived.
We’ve left Pisa behind, but not before a surprising end to our ‘quiet’ evening out at a back-street restaurant on Sunday.
As we left, we heard the honking of numerous car horns, and reckoned it was a continental celebration of a wedding party we’d noticed entering a local church earlier – we’ve experienced similar motorized celebrations years ago in France. But we soon realized it couldn’t be a wedding (unless they had a thousand or more guests), so out of curiosity we followed the line of traffic — lights flashing, horns blaring and flags flying — to the main town square, where flares were being set off to much cheering from onlooking locals.
Turns out Pisa’s professional soccer team had that evening been promoted into the Big League of Italian football, thanks to a match in another town far away. That wasn’t going to stop all those watching on home turf, in bars, clubs, restaurants and at home, turning out en masse to celebrate. Sadly for us, we did not have our iPad with us, so no pictures can relate the euphoria that erupted on an otherwise peaceful Sunday evening….
This morning (Monday) we explored a little more of Pisa before heading to the station to catch the train for our 90-minute journey to La Spezia. The double-deck train arrived at the platform earlier than scheduled, so in typical Round fashion (and having had the on-off-on-off-on-off experience of traveling to Gatwick Airport by train last week) we wondered if we’d loaded everything on the right train, so had the route map to hand to check the first station we reached in case we were Rome-bound rather than heading north-west.
All was well this time around, but we were both heavy laden as we left the platform – Philip having dismissed my bright idea to mail all our Icelandic clothing back to Canada in favour of carrying it around Italy. But we rumbled and carted our luggage to our AirB&B apartment, which turned out to be in the middle of a pedestrian precinct. It is well equipped, and the owners were very helpful in recommending restaurants and supermarkets we might like to seek out during our four-night stay, and explaining how various appliances etc worked.
They gave us the confidence to put on a much-need clothes wash before we set off to explore the downtown core of this Mediterranean port, but long after they had gone we were not so confident when we couldn’t work out how to unlock the door of the damn machine, despite being provided with the instruction book (in Italian, naturally). After typing various words and phrases into the Google translate app, we were still not much wiser, and virtually our entire stock of socks, stockings and underwear were trapped! Then we remembered a great tip we once got from Ted Mullin when he had problems with machines … Google the name, the model number and the words “English manual.” Voila!, as the French would say – no idea what the Italian is, but we could look it up. The manual appeared, with full instructions in the “Troubleshooting” section, and the problem was solved. Thanks, Dad! Nice to have clean knickers and socks again…
Phillip was equally excited about a flyer he found for a local supermarket within walking distance, highlighting what he considered to be some great bargains. So we set off, and got 1.5 litre bottles of mineral water, each for the equivalent of just 12 GB pennies or 25 Canadian cents, and 210 grams of real Gorgonzola cheese for the princely sum of 1.20 GBP or $2.50 Canadian. However the store had run out of half-price Chianti Reserva red wine, although I can’t complain at what we did pick up – hardly anything was priced at more than around $8 a bottle.
And it’s a good job we did pick up the wine and a few things to eat tonight, as we have now realized that Pisa’s soccer celebrations might merely be the start: the Italian team is playing its opening match in the Euro 2016 championships tonight – it’s Italy versus Belgium, currently ranked #2 in Europe. The chance of getting decent service in any restaurant tonight will be close to zero – interest in this soccer-mad nation will clearly be focused on action on the pitch, not on service at the table.
We slept well in our downtown suite – large bedroom, small lounge, two bathrooms, and air conditioning – and then decided to tour Pisa on foot, walking several kilometres in the process. We encountered very few tourists until we got in the vicinity of the town’s famous leaning tower, whereupon we met thousands – many of them being photographed in Tai Chi poses to look as though they were preventing the landmark from keeling over. Even Philip resisted the temptation to do this. What was rather noticeable was the highly-visible armed army personnel on site – our photograph was, understandably, not taken from a position where we might be shot!
I remember Philip once quoting an English Tourist Board report which said that only 5% of visitors to national parks walked further than 250 metres from a car park, and I feel sure a similar percentage applies to people here exploring more of the town than the adjoining tower, baptistery and cathedral – together making up what is described as the architectural “Field of Miracles,” and deservedly recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
We decided not to climb the tower with its 296 steps – Philip did it in his younger days, many decades ago – but we did our best to absorb the atmosphere around it despite the throngs of quick-in quick-out tour groups. No question, the site and its superb buildings are pretty spectacular, even if the religious connection seems lost of many visitors. But once you are away from that hotspot, Pisa has little more to offer than the average small Italian town. Most of it was bombed to bits in World War II.
As we had enjoyed a very substantial breakfast at our hotel – including home-made cakes – we didn’t fancy much for lunch, so simply had a very reasonably-priced tuna salad and beer (we felt pretty dehydrated by then) in a little restaurant close to our hotel. A short, but much deserved, siesta followed.
Tonight we’re venturing out again to try find another backstreet restaurant before returning to pack for tomorrow’s train ride to La Spezia on the Italian coast.
We spent a quiet 24 hours in Portsmouth on Friday (well, quiet apart from a rather dramatic 21-gun Royal Navy salute from the old city walls to mark the Queen’s 90th birthday) – a bit of shopping, checking out the Gunwharf development which Philip got funding for, having a fish and chip lunch – served in traditional paper – at one of our favourite old pubs (the”Still and West” in Old Portsmouth) and generally being unsociable after so long talking to so many different people.
Today (Saturday), we set off on our journey to Pisa in Italy. As you know, the Rounds try to organize all travel in pretty minute detail weeks or months before setting off. Now, if you don’t know already, this flight was my great bargain of the vacation. I converted some of the British Airways Executive Club points we had accidentally earned on our economy flights to Cape Town last November into return flights to Pisa (Club Class!) for 60 GBP each AND free car rental in Italy.
So, I was all ready for a day of being pampered as a Club Class passenger with free drinks and food in the airport lounge beforehand…But, of course, the Rounds always do things the cheap way whenever possible, which causes complications..
Our plan was to travel on a direct train from Portsmouth Station – right next to our hotel, and bedecked with scores of flags for the royal birthday – to Gatwick Airport. When we lived in Hampshire, we would always have done this by private cab, but the train journey seemed so easy, convenient (and economical) that we had to give it a go.
We got a hint of trouble yesterday when the clerk at the station dissuaded us from buying tickets ahead of time. She told us there was an labour dispute on Southern Rail (they have got rid of a number of drivers/engineers and the unions are using subtle reprisals to get their own back) and she wasn’t sure if the hourly train would run.
When we turned up the next morning, we found this was indeed the case. The clerk helpfully gave us an amended journey plan all neatly printed out so we couldn’t go wrong (really?) which involved two changes of trains to get to Gatwick in time. You have to appreciate we are travelling with two large and heavy cases and two small but also heavy ones, all at maximum capacity to ensure children and grandchildren in Italy get (grand) parental recognition. So moving around is not easy…
We climbed on the first train and got off at Chichester, where we had been told to change. But no sooner had our feet hit the platform than we were urged by the station official to get straight back on again and go to the next station. So we lumbered on again with our luggage. We stood until the next station, Barnham, and again got out, being helped by a young man who not only handed us our cases but also an additional case of an elderly lady who was still on the train! But once again, we were told to get back onto the same train and to travel on to Worthing (“The Importance of being Earnest” anyone?). We only just made it. Philip got on board with the luggage and, if another helpful young man hadn’t stuck his foot between the automatic train doors, I would still be on Barnham Station platform minus a husband, luggage and ticket!
We finally made it to Worthing and got the connecting train to Gatwick, by which time I was ready to sink either to my knees or into the heights of luxury.
But fate was still against us. The BA check-in kiosk didn’t work, so we had to line up for a manual check-in, then the airport security was so overwhelmed we were sent to a secondary one, but finally we got to the Number 1 lounge where we planned to wine, dine and finally relax for a couple of hours.
However, we had reckoned without the fact that many England soccer supporters were heading to France for Euro 2016, so the lounge was full of men, behaving quite properly but LOUD! After 30 minutes they all rushed out to catch their planes and relative peace descended, but it wasn’t quite the bliss I had expected. However, we had a few glasses of wine and a most delicious pea soup followed by mezze, both of which were excellent.
Our plane was an hour late in leaving and seemed to be occupied by more than the average number of toddlers screaming their heads off – adorable and amusing when they are your grandkids, but very irritating when they are someone else’s. However, a G&T calmed my nerves, soon followed by a really delicious afternoon tea served on china with real cutlery. I could get used to this manner of travel (well don’t – Ed.).
There are usually hordes of taxis at airports but it took us ten minutes to round one up at Pisa. The man was a rogue because he dropped us at the wrong end of the Corso Italia, a pedestrianized street, and we had to walk quite a long way to find our hotel. What made it worse was the Corso Italia was where the passeggiata takes place in Pisa and this was Saturday night. Imagine the sight: two hot and sticky travellers, each dragging two suitcases up a street where everyone else is looking cool and elegant as they take the evening air…
But today’s extraordinary journey was not yet over. It turned out that our hotel – the Relais CentroStorico was an ancient building spread over four floors with no elevator/lift. Yes, you’ve guessed it: we had been allocated the best room in the house – a suite on the third floor, up some 54 steps!
Let’s hope the destination proves worthy of the journey…
judithround2it 