Blog #14: It's Like ManyFaces from He-Man

Blog #14: The Many Facets (and Titles) of My Weekend In Italy

This is the blog of many titles. The Italians deserve it, for better or worse. I have taken the liberty to divide the trip up into cities, then I have given an appropriate title to each of the three days.

Blog #14a: Florence, Italy (6/25/2005 to 6/27/2005)

Day 1: It’s Not a Purse; It’s a European Carry-All!

I arrived in Florence thinking that I would have a nightmarish time getting into the more popular museums and I would pay exorbitant prices for everything. While the latter is true, the former was not. I thought I would need to make reservations for the museums on Saturday to see them on Sunday, but it did not work out that way. The first order of duty was to check into a hostel. The suggested place, Ostello Archi Rossi, did not have a dorm bed open, so I sprang for the extra 6 euros and got a single. While the privacy was nice, I hate not having opportunities to meet people, so I only stayed one night there and one in another hostel.

The first place I visited was the Duomo. This is the dome of some big church there in Florence. It is a quite impressive ceiling and I have posted pictures. The view from the top was great, but, as I have found with most tower views, the pictures do not do it justice. However, this was 6 euros ($7-8) and about 45 minutes of my day spent.

The next stop was the Uffizi. This means office in Italian and was once the offices for some famous rulers. When I thought I was waiting in line to make a reservation for a Sunday viewing, I was actually in line to see the museum. I talked with an American mother and son in line from the Ohio area. It is always nice to run into other travelers who have found out the tricks of the city. I was happy to only wait a little over an hour in line—after hearing horror stories of 2-3 hours. Now the Uffizi is a museum covered with expensive paintings and statues. My main motivation for going there was that Dana had told me there are so many statues there and I have become a real fan of statues in the last few years. I was quite impressed. Yet again, about $10 and two and a half hours spent.

One of the tips these Ohioans gave me was for lunch. Good old Rick Steves suggested a small restaurant just south of Duomo. It was absolutely amazing. I had a great gnocchi with blue cheese and pistachios. It would be hard to find a better combination. Their other tip was to see Accademia in the evening. Uffizi and Accademia are probably the most popular attractions. I arrived about an hour before it closed, waited in line 20 minutes and had more than enough time to see everything. Just about the only thing to see at Accademia is Michelangelo’s David. It is truly impressive. He stands about 25 feet tall, by my guess, then is raised on an 8-10 foot base in a vaulted room built especially to hold David. As everyone says, and I agree, Michelangelo’s attention to detail was incredible. I managed a few pictures (even though I was not supposed to take one) and have posted one—you will probably recognize it. This one hour excursion set me back about $10.

That evening I took Cho’s (one of the other Americans from TU) advice and saw the sunset from Piazzale Michelangelo. This area is now a parking lot on a hill with a great view of the city, its river and the sunset. Also in this area is another of the Davids on display in Florence. All in all, it was a relaxing end to a museum-filled day. I broke my own rule of visiting no more than two museums in a given day, but my average over Saturday and Sunday was only two, so I do not feel so bad.

Day 2: Calcio Storico: As If Italian Men Need An Excuse To Let Testosterone Flair

The day started with a train reservation and me being suckered into the European Carry-All. I did it to myself. I know that was the title of Day 1, but it was too good of a title to pass up. I was simply tired of carrying my water bottle and stuffing my pockets with maps. Do not be deceived: this is most definitely not a fanny pack! This goes over the shoulder. I would rather be accused of carrying a purse than a fanny pack.

Then I wandered around trying to find this ancient history museum, Museo Archeologico. After figuring out how to read a map and road signs, I found this gem. I was enthralled by the ancient Egyptian and Greek relics. I saw part of the Book of the Dead, which I know nothing about, but it is in The Mummy and a couple other bad semi-horror movies, so it must be important. I was particularly impressed with the number of actual Egyptian artifacts they are hiding in this tourist-free museum.

This was the day for not finding what I wanted. I looked for a hostel and found nothing. Apparently the little slip of paper that had been taped on the buzzer had been removed. Has anyone there ever heard of a sign? Then I walked about a mile too far in my attempt to find a restaurant, La Magniatoia, suggested by on of my Romanian friends in Zurich. After sweating like a mad beast and nearly dehydrating because it was just plain hot in Italy, I found this place. Lunch is the biggest meal of the day in Italy and I took advantage of it. I loved my food and went into a food coma promptly afterwards.

I went back to find that the hostel sticky-note had been reattached, so I was able to check in. I asked about Calcio Storico, a sporting event purported to be a precursor to soccer. The guys at the hostel said it is basically soccer for convicts. They were right. This “sport” is played on a sand court only slightly larger than a basketball court. This is 27 on 27. The ball is supposed to be wooden—not a good sign. The travel guide said this would be half soccer, half riot. I beg to differ. When they threw the ball in the air, about 1/3 of the guys started to play, the remaining “players” just started brawling. I saw blood, players being carted off the field on stretchers and seemingly useless referees trying to bring order to this mayhem.

And I repeat: do we really need to give Italian men another excuse to let their testosterone flair? I will let you draw the only humane conclusion that exists. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

Once I finally found this fabled hostel, the Firenze Inn, I was glad I did. I met some people and they took us out to dinner (for free!) that night. It was quite nice. I met some nice people… OK, nice girls. Like I said, I was the only guy in sight! My life is so hard. At this pub where we got dinner, there was an interesting poster on the wall. It took a while for it to register, but there was a series of posters from famous Native American chiefs. As I read one, I remembered what I have been thinking since my arrival in Europe. It strikes me that, whatever other people think or whatever Americans may think, America is the place where people can achieve their dreams and live (within some bounds) with freedom and possibilities unsurpassed in history. And yet look at who else has been a proponent of such ideas. While I have always heard about the tragedies inflicted up the Native Americans, it took a smoky, dingy pub in the middle of Italy to really touch me.

Chief Joseph, 1879: “Let me be a free man, free to travel, free to stop, free to work, free to trade where I choose, free to choose my own teachers, free to follow the religion of my fathers, free to think and talk and act for myself….”

Florence (Firenze), Italy: http://www.imagestation.com/album/pictures.html?id=2124420182&code=16912609&mode=invite&DCMP=isc-email-AlbumInvite

Blog #14b: Venice, Italy (6/27/2005 to 6/28/2005)

Day 3: If You Have Not Been Lost in Venice, You Have Not Been to Venice; or, Italy: Haven of the Euro-Mullet

First of all, there is a God and he likes air conditioning. Second, I think the signature picture for this trip is of the Departures board at the Milan train station. It should read “Ritardo? Is it anything else?” In other words: Late? Absolutely. Instead, the answer to the question was 40 minutes, but quickly became 55. Some other backpackers were telling stories that they were worried because the Italian train employees were on strike sometime last week. On a very normal basis, Italians are late. On the other hand, I was talking with friends last week and we were joking about the Swiss. We came to the conclusion that when they go on strike they are five minutes late. If they ever did it, the entire country would be in turmoil.

Venezia was a nice city. Although I was unable to see inside any of the churches or museums, I was able to see a good amount of the city and squeezed in a boat ride, as well. After taking the Let’s Go travel guide advice, I simply started wandering in the right direction and was not too concerned about making it to the hostel in an efficient manner. After about a half hour of wandering around with my 40 pound pack, I decided it would probably be a good idea to start actually looking for my hostel. A sweaty half hour later, I stumbled up the stairs and was able to drop my pack. Upon receiving directions from a couple of Canadians sitting around, I found my way back to the station in 10 minutes.

As for my hostel, I met some interesting characters. First of all, I do not know where all the guys have been of late, but I have been in hostels that are absolutely chalk full of girls. I am not complaining, per say, but allow me to give you an example of what I have been facing…..

Other than being traumatized by meeting seven different Canadians in one day, one was extremely tortuous. She considers herself an actress. If she means she is a bleeding heart, loud, obnoxious attention whore, she must be the best actress who has ever walked the face of this earth. One of the Texan girls I ran into made a flippant comment about being glad that at least we have the U.S. dollar and it is usually strong enough, but it could suck to be an Australian or Canadian because their dollars are weaker. Reasonable comment. Unreasonable response from the Canadian flake: Tell that to my friend Poombi in Thailand who has no arms. Alex, I will take Overkill for $800, please. Yes, Poombi, we do feel bad for you. If she considers you a friend, having no arms is the least of your worries.

I walked around the city quite a bit in my day there. I must have walked for miles, although that has become the norm, of late. I heard that a great way to see the city from the canals was to just get the public transportation boats. For about $6, a reasonable price for such a touristy place, I was able to take a boat almost all the way around the city. It was a nice change from walking. So I did not do a romantic gondola ride around the canals… but you all know me better than that.

Venice (Venezia), Italy: http://www.imagestation.com/album/pictures.html?id=2124416339&code=16914513&mode=invite&DCMP=isc-email-AlbumInvite