Still caught up in the last throws of jetlag, wife and I have returned from a ten-day sojourn to the birthplace of Western civilization. When I say Western I don't mean like Bonanza. I mean like people whose ways aren't backward and strange.
Anyway we went to Italy, and as you can possibly imagine, my stories are many. Because I could go on for days about how wonderful the trip was, I'll try and limit myself to only a brief epistle and hit the highlights.
Anyway we went to Italy, and as you can possibly imagine, my stories are many. Because I could go on for days about how wonderful the trip was, I'll try and limit myself to only a brief epistle and hit the highlights.
Our journey started with Alitalia. I wanted to like this airline. Really I did, but the cabins were in various stages of disrepair depending on what seat you were in, and the flight attendants were some surly bitches. The women flight attendants weren't any better. At one point I walked back to their secret hiding area behind the curtain to return my meal tray and utensils. One stewardess just looked at me abruptly and said NO before returning her attention to her own piss-poor airline food. Oh well, at least they got us to our destination and then stepped in to help when those lazy Air France people went on strike.
A few days in Rome proved to be a remarkable experience. I'm not normally one for monuments and museums, but this city has relics older than any I'd ever seen. It wasn't out of the ordinary to see modern buildings constructed around two thousand-year-old pillars that still remain. As I stood in the Colosseum gazing out into the arena I thought to myself you're in a building that dates back 30 years after the death of Christ.
Speaking of Rabbi Jesus, I did add yet another country to my list of places that have welcomed me with open arms, namely Vatican City. I opted against going into St. Peter's Basilica as the line was almost as long as the one at the airline ticket counter in the Rome airport thanks to those anti-work numbnuts at Air France (my wife had to wait in line eleven hours).
I did make it into the Vatican museum though. Individual artworks in this place were incredible and even the gardens it overlooks were beautiful, but a travelling friend of mine put it well when he said, "It's no wonder they had a Protestant Reformation." In just fifteen minutes the Vatican museum starts to get a little overwhelming. So much stuff. Too many notes.
In Florence I did little other than pick up a rental car and buy a few clothing items (our suitcase would not arrive for another three days). I did end up going to the large market in the center of town where I had a yummy panini and Coke Zero, or as they say in Italian Coke Zero but that was on the return trip. Florence was an easy train ride up from Rome and made for a great jumping off point for the trip through Tuscany.
Not enough wonderful things could be said about Montestigliano, the site of the restored farm house we stayed in for the bulk of our stay. Same goes for Susan Pennington who, in addition to running the place, went to great lengths to help us retrieve our suitcase from Alitalia. Because she was a native English speaker (the Queen's though; not W's) she was able to share her passion for the area with us and help us drum up some wonderful ways to spend our holiday. If you've stumbled across my innerweb site by googling Montestigliano, please oh please feel free to email me at cocktailswithkevin@hotmail.com and I'll tell you all the wonderful things about it. Better yet, just go ahead and book the place. There are eleven guest homes in all and of the people we met during our stay, everyone loved where he was staying.
In the days that followed I visited (not necessarily in this order) Chianti, Assisi, Pisa, Perugia, Sovana, Orbitello, Ercolo, Porto San Stefano, Pitigliano and You Mixed Up Sicialiano. Just kidding. I never went to Sicily. Maybe next trip.
Words cannot describe the mayhem that was this festival. The entire downtown was closed off to traffic so that pedestrians could roam freely and eat their weight in chocolate. It was just surreal.
The Strada Panoramica around the coast of Porto San Stefano lead us to a frightful knuckle whitening journey bordering both the sea and our own deaths. Views were spectacular but so were our lives flashing before our eyes. If we weren't staring down a quarter mile into a watery abyss we were trying to maneuever a Mercedez A class across dangerously rough terrain without getting stuck in no-man's land without any way to call for help other than honking at passing ships.
Castelina in Chianti is a quaint little town to stop in and have a glass of its namesake, but interestingly enough the SR222, or Chianti Highway as it's affectionately known, on the way from Siena to Florence is lined with hookers. It's weird because the beautifully scenic drive is essentially desolate of people with the exception of a lone woman in tight fitting clothes and an ill fitting wig at every other pull-off. We passed.
In Assisi I saw the Cathedral of St. Francis. Now I wasn't raised Catholic so my knowledge of St. Francis before this trip was limited to what I had learned about him at Pike Nursery. He's made of indoor outdoor resin and likes birds. I do know the story of how he had preached to birds and animals, but if you think about it televangelists across the country preach to flocks of mindless sheep everyday so what's the big deal.
The cathedral, though Gothic in style, had a more modern appearance than many in the country perhaps because it underwent major restoration after an earthquake in 1997. The patron saint of animals, birds and the environment is buried in a tomb that is accessible via a double staircase going down from the nave. We saw a monk on his knees praying while he extended one hand through the grating onto the tomb. Upstairs a priest with a North American accent was giving mass in English. Again we passed.
All in all, Italy was a country I had not been particularly crazy about visiting and yet I'm so glad I took the opportunity to go. I had assumed it would be like many other Western European countries in that it has the major items on the checklist: cathedrals, castles, a famous bridge slash monument and pricey food and accomodations. Indeed Italy does have all those things, but there's something magical about the country in a way there isn't about many others. From the time of the Etruscans to the Romans to the early Church there's just a vibrancy about the place. It's like its own Mesopotamia for what we like to think of as the modern world.
Belgium is a country I've been to and won't necessarily feel the need to revisit. Same goes for Chile. They're fun places and all; I've just put a check mark by them and that's that. Italy is a country I hope to go back to. This time Elaine and I will take our kid. Hopefully she won't want to climb that bell tower in Siena. Rarely have I ever felt so sick.
Chocolate panini on its second time around is not a pretty sight.
Castelina in Chianti is a quaint little town to stop in and have a glass of its namesake, but interestingly enough the SR222, or Chianti Highway as it's affectionately known, on the way from Siena to Florence is lined with hookers. It's weird because the beautifully scenic drive is essentially desolate of people with the exception of a lone woman in tight fitting clothes and an ill fitting wig at every other pull-off. We passed.
In Assisi I saw the Cathedral of St. Francis. Now I wasn't raised Catholic so my knowledge of St. Francis before this trip was limited to what I had learned about him at Pike Nursery. He's made of indoor outdoor resin and likes birds. I do know the story of how he had preached to birds and animals, but if you think about it televangelists across the country preach to flocks of mindless sheep everyday so what's the big deal.
The cathedral, though Gothic in style, had a more modern appearance than many in the country perhaps because it underwent major restoration after an earthquake in 1997. The patron saint of animals, birds and the environment is buried in a tomb that is accessible via a double staircase going down from the nave. We saw a monk on his knees praying while he extended one hand through the grating onto the tomb. Upstairs a priest with a North American accent was giving mass in English. Again we passed.
All in all, Italy was a country I had not been particularly crazy about visiting and yet I'm so glad I took the opportunity to go. I had assumed it would be like many other Western European countries in that it has the major items on the checklist: cathedrals, castles, a famous bridge slash monument and pricey food and accomodations. Indeed Italy does have all those things, but there's something magical about the country in a way there isn't about many others. From the time of the Etruscans to the Romans to the early Church there's just a vibrancy about the place. It's like its own Mesopotamia for what we like to think of as the modern world.
Belgium is a country I've been to and won't necessarily feel the need to revisit. Same goes for Chile. They're fun places and all; I've just put a check mark by them and that's that. Italy is a country I hope to go back to. This time Elaine and I will take our kid. Hopefully she won't want to climb that bell tower in Siena. Rarely have I ever felt so sick.
Chocolate panini on its second time around is not a pretty sight.
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