Dear Reader,
Once again I have been neglectful in not writing my blog. There are so many stories I have yet to tell about my most recent vacation in Italy, Croatia, Greece and Turkey, and yet somehow there never seems to be enough time. Lately I've spent a lot of time planting petunias and marigolds in the garden. My good friend, Cobo, the owner of the Fischbanke Bar in Bolzano, recommended planting lots of annuals every year as he does at his bar. It makes everything so much more festive and doesn't cost very much to buy every year. He is right. Our vegetable garden now looks very festive and colorful. But I digress and must bring my thoughts back to travel.
I'm really becomming a big fan of the eastern country of Croatia. This was our second visit to that beautiful emerald land with her thousand miles plus of beaches and islands along with an ancient history pre-dating the Greeks. The food is very good and the people are very friendly. Surprisingly many of them speak English. They also make a very good wine and beer. One of the biggest advantages of visiting Croatia is that they are not yet on the Euro and their currency, the Kuna, is weaker than the dollar at 5.6 Kuna per one U.S. dollar as of May. This makes Croatia a reasonable country to visit.
The first time we went to Croatia we visited the large city of Split's old town. This is not a little cutesy "old town" with spruced up quaint buildings and people in costumes. This old town is ancient and yet thriving. It was originally settled when the Slavs attacked their nearby city and the Croatians fled for cover inside the old Roman Palace built by Emperor Diocletian as his retirement home on the coast. I don't know why the palace was unoccupied at the time but the entire city moved into the palace and later became the city of Split. The sight is quite remarkable. The palace walls line the broad waterfront boulevard which is now lined with bars and restaurants with outdoor tables and umbrellas plants and lawns. It looks like a fortress but an attractive one. You enter the palace, and the city, through a large archway which leads you into the former basement of the palace and continue straight through to a set of broad stairs on the opposite side through another large archway. The thoroughfare is lined with small shops selling local handicrafts and postcards. Before leaving the basement you can take a self guided tour of the various rooms, mostly empty, but interesting.
Once you step outside through the second archway you'll find yourself right in the middle of the thriving main square which is oddly shaped because of a giant temple of Venus which looms diagonally on the right. It is right next to a broad long set of stairs leading up to the hidden Cathedral which dates back to the 10th century and which is next to the tower which can be climbed for a small fee. Across the square are medieval buildings jammed together, some with partial Roman parts such as steps and columns incorporated into them. The square itself still has the original marble floor paving from the palace itself. It's difficult to envision, but we had just stepped into the courtyard of the palace which was square in shape surrounding a square court. This was a typical Roman construction for dwellings. We walked through the entire old town and out the far gate through many narrow cobblestone streets lined with medieval buildings. We visited the Bapistery which was originally built by Diocletian as a temple for his own burial but later Christianized. It's a fascinating place with lots of small local eateries and bars to make it very cheerful indeed.
This year we had the good fortune of returning to Split as well as visiting the famous Unesco National Heritage city of Dubrovnik, a place I'd always wanted to see. Dubrovnik is a favorite stopping place for cruise ships not just because of its beauty but also for its manageable size. The entire city is inside medieval walls which are fully intact and contain four fortresses, one on each corner. The walls are about two miles long I believe and the walk, which involves a good deal of climbing, takes about two hours if you're not making too many photo stops. The location could not be more beautiful surrounded on three sides by crystal clear blue ocean and a green mountain on the fourth side.
The walls, which are eighty feet high in some places, are built on top of sheer rock cliffs on the ocean sides and the views are magnificent. They were originally built by the Romans but later fortified by the Croatians in the 15th century as extra protection from a Venetian invasion. It worked. The walls were never breached by Venetians or any other enemies until the 1991 war with Serbia when the Serbian army bombed Dubrovnik for weeks on end destroying most of the city. The brave civilians of Dubrovnik stayed throughout the bombing, hiding in the fortresses and underground while their homes were being destoyed and while their brave young men gathered their grandfather's hunting rifles and made a stand in the highest fortress on the mountain above the city, determined to hold the Serbians from entering Dubrovnik. This tragedy was finally brought to an end when the rest of the world finally took notice and joined to put a stop to it. The damage was horrendous but the people rebuilt and the walls were repaired and it is once again a thriving and living city and major tourist site. The major difference as you gaze down into the city from the walls are the bright orange tile roofs which replaced the old faded brown ones. Very little other evidence of the tragedy remains but you can see a memorial exhibit to the brave who fought and died in one of the museums.
Inside the walls, Dubrovnik is very lively and packed with tourists by day. The main street called the Stradum or the Placa divides the city right down the middle and is a broad pedestrian only street made of marble. There are fountains at either end from the Renaissance plus many other fine Renaissance buildings to see. This is the place where people like to stroll in the evening and sit at outdoor cafes and bars and eat gelato. It has an interesting history too. Originally it was a small inland ocean canal which separated the mainland from an island. The Romans settled on the mainland and when the Slavs invaded they settled on the island. Strangely enough they left each other in peace and a couple of hundred years later decided to fill it in and join the two cities.
But even more interesting to me are the extremely narrow side streets running perpendicular to the Stradum on each side. These are very medieval and some are so close you could easily touch both sides at once with your hands. On the east side the streets are steep and many have steps to help climb to the tops which end at the wall. The streets to the west are mostly flat with only a bit of a climb on some. These side streets are where the most local restaurants are to be found. But first we had to have a drink at the Busa Bar inside the wall over the ocean. Everyone goes to the Busa Bar but I still wanted to go anyway because of its location. You have to find a little sign that says "Cold Drinks" on the inside of the wall and follow the wall until you see a hole about six feet tall. My husband only had to duck a bit so the hole wasn't as small as advertised. Once through the hole you go down steps which have been carved right into the side of the cliff and down to the first level, a giant slab covered with umbrellas, a drink cooler and a tiny bar. We ordred two pivos (beer) and drank their local with plastic cups while we gazed down at the ocean and an island very close by and our cruise ship off in the distance. It was near sunset and very beautiful. There is another lower level and also big rocks to sit on and drink, sunbathe and also for diving into the ocean. Further down we noticed more stairs carved into the rocks right from the ocean to welcome swimmers ashore as well as kyackers and other boaters. It was a great place to rest up in the middle of all that wall climbing.
After finishing the wall we ate dinner at a tiny restaurant we had spotted from the wall earlier and which happened to be on my list of recommended local eateries. It was fantastic. John says it was our best meal of the trip. He had a seafood pasta and I had scampi which were very messy in a wonderful red bussola sauce. The scampi were huge and had to be completely peeled but I managed not to spill on my clothes. We were very thirsty so we had two liters of white Croatian wine which was crisp, dry and lovely. After that our waitress brought us complimentary Croatian brandy which is similar to Italian grappa but much smoother. It was very nice. But alas we had a ship to catch so we strolled back towards the main gate past people in the square eating and drinking outdoors with open wood fires and grills burning. There were torches lining the square and the street leading back to the gate. I wanted to stay and join the party and am determined to return for that reason. The last tender back to our ship was delayed so we had time for one more treat, homemade gelato. It was every bit as good as the gelato in Italy and something I always miss upon returning home.
When we returned to Split, having already toured the city in the past, we decided it would be fun to visit the nearby tiny island town of Trogir. It is only a mile long and completely medieval and the long distances buses all stop there so it seemed a convenient thing to do. The trip takes only 20 minutes by long distance buses heading north or 30 minutes by the local bus #37 or an hour by ferry. Always worrying about time and missing our ship we opted for the fastest route and headed straight for the bus depot from where all the buses depart. I would not have even recognized the strip mall like building with the giant valvoline sign painted on the end as the bus depot if I had not researched it in advance and seen the photo. My advance information indicated that long distance buses leave every ten minutes and to just catch the first one leaving when we get there. I had also noted not to buy a round trip ticket because we would then be stuck with the same bus company and might have to wait longer than necessary upon our return.
My first disappointment upon arrival and a brisk walk along the water front was that the next bus was not leaving for one half hour. There were no other bus companies that I could discern or even ask about, because I didn't know how to ask that question in Croatian, which might leave earlier, so we waited. At least we used the time wisely and found a Bankomat to get some Kunas so we were armed and ready to go. They let us board the bus early, which was nice because it was getting hot outside, and it is airconditioned.
The bus is very luxurious and comfortable and left right on schedule dropping us off across the street from a little bridge which connects to Trogir. We decided to be smart before crossing over to Trogir to confirm my return bus schedule and get our return tickets at the tiny bus station first. We also wanted to know exactly where to catch the return bus because this can also be tricky. But, alas, this was where the lost in translation problem stepped in. The clerk spoke to us in English but didn't quite understand my questions. We asked him what times the return buses to Trogir would leave. He told us there is only one per hour and gave us the approximate times. I should have been more specific about the buses but just couldn't get it out and I knew that didn't sound right. He also told us to buy our tickets when we returned which also didn't sound right but not knowing what to do, we went on across the bridge into tiny Trogir.
Trogir is another city completely inside walls but it is entirely medieval and the architecture is very consistent throughout being from around the 11th century. It is a maze of narrow streets inside which have no rhyme or reason for their direction making it very easy to get turned around in a hurry. The good news is that it is a tiny town so you know you will eventually get to the other end or the middle or the sides. The walls are made of a pleasant golden stone which makes it unusually bright and though the walls are high and buildings tall, the sun shines down to street level with a brilliance unusual to medieval towns.
Our main goal in Trogir is their magnificent 11th century cathedral with its unusual three architectural leveled tower. The cathedral itself is vast and dark inside, afterall, it is Romanesque and was built before the flying buttresses and stained glass windows. However, the tower is ornate and very attractive. The lower portion is Romanesque, the middle portion Gothic and the top section is Renaissance. It is only about maybe ten stories high but the climb is worth it for the nice view of the entire island as well as the water surrounding it and the rooftops of the town itself. It's an easy climb too because it is an open tower inside with wide modern rod iron stairs for the most part, though I met a girl who was afraid to do the climb because you can see all the way down. I guess it's not for those with acrophobia but the rest of us love it! At the very top it gets a little difficult because the stairs turn to stone and are very steep and narrow and worn down. There is a small opening at the top that you have to climb through to get to the roof. I was worried John would get stuck but he managed alright. The tower overlooks the main square and the museum, the two main sites of the town.
We enjoyed our afternoon in Trogir and found a nice seafood restaurant for lunch. There were pleasant surprises around every corner and every restaurant had fresh seafood on display. I could have spent some quality time there as well. At last we reached the large square Venetian fortress outside the walls and took a very pleasant waterfront stroll lined with grass and palm trees and lots of bars and restaurants with the usual outdoor seating. Behind them appeared to be grand hotels and apartments. The water was filled with yachts and other nice watercraft. It appeared to be a very affluent area. But our ship was awaiting so we headed back to the bus station for our 4:05PM bus back to Split.
When we returned to the bus station the man who had helped us before was gone. A young woman who was very nice advised us that we had just missed the bus to Split. It had left right at 4:00PM. I knew it! I knew the information had been wrong. I realized then that the man had assumed I was asking about the local bus, not the long distance bus. She also said the next bus would not leave for another 40 minutes but it is the local bus #37 which takes a lot longer. We were worried. Our ship set sail at 6:00PM. We anxiously bought tickets and then she suggested we go look for the bus as perhaps it might still be out there so we ran out to the parking lot and looked at all the buses. We couldn't tell one from the other. None had names on the front except the obvious tour buses which had signs such as "Norwegian Jade" , which was our ship, in the windshield. So I ran back inside and asked her exactly where the bus would be parked and she advised to the left of the lot. It was the best I could do. But when I got to the lot there were only two buses parked on the left side and they both were tour buses. The bus in front had a sign "Norwegian Jade" in the windshield and there was no driver nor tour guide present. There were people on board however which indicated they must be departing soon. Sometimes you just have to fly by the seat of your pants so I made my decision and told John we were getting on that bus. He was agreeable to this idea as we hadn't many options and suggested we sit way in the back.
The bus wasn't even half full so we weren't fearful of taking someone's seat when we hurried to the back of the bus. Several people stared at us and one said "no" as we passed but I didn't care at that point. I was determined to get on that bus and no one was going to get me off of it. John and I were slumping down in the back with our hats pulled brims low over our foreheads trying not to giggle out loud. It wasn't easy because it was extremely funny, or so we thought. A very few short minutes later the driver and tour guide jumped on board and we took off without even a head count. Phew! What a relief.
We were on our way back to Split and doing a good clip when the tour guide commenced her narrative about Split in French. Oops, we had gotten on the French tour bus. This could be bad afterall. But ever the optimist I held my ground and my tounge and just signalled to John to do the same. I was enjoying her talk about the history of Split and what to do when there was some babble from some of the guests up front which I only partially understood. I heard her say "Group four?" and some more talk ensued. This was not good. Her speach was interrupted. I leaned over to John and told him that she thinks we are with group four and that theirs was group seven. I suggested we both keep our mouths shut and just pretend not to understand her. Suddenly she was standing there staring at us and yelled at us in French. We just sat there and tried looking stupid and shrugged our shoulders. So she yelled in English "Who are you?" Uh oh, we can't pretend not to understand her now. What to do? She commented next "I have to ask in English to get an answer from you!" This ticked me off a bit so I decided not to answer her at all. So she turned on John and asked him if we were supposed to be on another bus. Always quick, John said we were with group four and must be on the wrong bus. I interjected that we saw the sign on the front of the bus and we are on the Norwegian Jade and there was no one around to ask if it was the correct bus so we were afraid of missing it if we didn't board. She looked furious and got on the phone and called, I presume, group four to tell them they had two missing passengers but they didn't. Then she confronted us again and we both just shrugged again. I repeated that all we knew was we saw the sign and throught it was our bus. She turned and stomped back to the front and took up her narrative once again. But I heard lots of laughter from the others and know she said some snide things about us and probably how stupid Americans can be.
John and I held hands and smiled in relief. We got to stay on the bus. What could they do, turn around and take us back to Trogir? We weren't going to miss our ship afterall and in fact, would even have time to do some things in Split before boarding. It was all good and we were pleased that we can think on our feet and fly by the seat of our pants when necessary since, as we know, all the research in the world can not guarantee a flawless trip. This was one of those moments when we like to "high five" and enjoy the thrill of victory when the chips seem to be down. We could only sit and wonder what our friends would have thought of this had they come along as planned. Would they have agreed to jump on the bus or insisted on waiting for the local bus? What would they have thought about our bending of the truth? I would like to think they would have enjoyed it. Afterall, these are the stories that are fun to tell back on the ship while relaxing in the spa with new friends and for years afterwards because it will always bring laughter.
Dobargenie
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Thursday, June 30, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Lost in Translation
Dear Reader,
I'm sure you've all heard the saying "Lost in Translation" and many of you might even have seen the movie so you'll understand this little tale from my most recent visit to Italy, Croatia, Greece and Turkey.
First I'd like to say that I always work very hard at speaking the language no matter where I am. In some places, France, Italy and Spain, for instance, I do very well, particularly in France. I studied Greek for about three months before our first adventure to that country and even made up a list of helpful words and phrases to use in Croatia. It's fun attempting to speak different languages and also very rewarding when they understand you. This is why it can be extremely frustrating when they don't.
We had rented an apartment in Bergamo, Italy in advance and being that it was our first stop after a very long flight, a shorter flight and then a 2 hour train ride, I wanted everything to go smoothly. Most of the transportation did go smoothly. The flights were on time. The train left right on schedule but then there was the hour's delay I mentioned before. This put our arrival in Bergamo after 9:00PM.
Since we had never arrived in Bergamo by train before, I asked the landlord if he meet us there. He responded that it is an easy 20 minute walk from the station to the funicular or a short bus ride and he would meet us at the top of the funicular. He said to send him a text upon our arrival and not to call him. Keep in mind, Bergamo is a hilltown. The lower city, the Citta Bassa, is modern and sprawling but flat. The upper city, the Citta Alta, is quite a climb and is best reached by the funicular which goes right up the side to the top. There are higher points than that in the Citta Alta and also another funicular leaving from the opposite side going up to another village which is even higher than Bergamo. This funicular is called Colle Aperto.
Before we left home as part of my extensive preparation and planning, all of which I type up in my "Practical Tips", I researched the buses in Bergamo and found that the number 1 bus leaves directly from the station in the direction of Colle Aperto and stops at the funicular station that we wanted. It is always important when traveling in a strange city in Europe especially to know the name of the end of the line for the buses so you don't go in the wrong direction. This happened to us years ago in Siena and we had a very long ride into the countryside in the wrong direction. Never again! Most buses have two directions unless you happen to be boarding at the beginning of the line. The bus number 1, for instance goes to Colle Aperto and in the opposite direction to the airport. These names are usually in large print on the front of the bus.
I printed out the schedule and directions to find the correct bus so we wouldn't waste time wandering about. Not all buses stop directly in front of the station. Several stop in an area off to the right across the small traffic circle. According to Fodor's, I believe, the number 1 bus was one of the latter. As soon as we arrived we headed out the front door of the station across the traffic circle to the bus stop. It was dark and there were lots of buses coming and going but no number 1. In the meantime, I sent a text to our landlord who said he would be waiting for us at the top of the funicular by the time we arrived. Finally I asked someone where the number 1 bus comes and she pointed to the front of the train station. Of course, one simple little piece of information had to be wrong. It happens all the time.
We returned to the front of the station where there is a traffic island in the middle with buses stopping on the left and on the right. None of them were number 1s. I sent another text to our landlord and he said again to take the bus to the funicular and he'd meet us. So we waited. We were both exhausted. No one standing outside the station, and by this point there were very few, knew about the number 1 bus. I saw two buses pass that said Aeropuerto (airport) so it made sense that the number 1 bus was still running. I began boarding every bus that arrived and asking them about the bus to Colle Aperto. Each driver said no, not this bus. I was beginning to worry at this point. Finally a bus arrived in the correct spot so I asked the driver in my best Italian if the bus went to Colle Aperto. He said "No, finished." in English. He said we would have to walk. Before I could clarify my question, he took off. I told John what the driver said and he replied "I knew it.".
At this point I sent a text to our landlord advising that the bus is no longer running and we would have to walk. He texted back again saying to take the bus to the funicular and he would meed us at the top. Obviously he did not get my meaning. I decided to call him even though he said not to but got no answer. Now I was mad. I knew we had to get off at the funicular. I knew we had to take the number 1 bus towards Colle Aperto. I just couldn't explain it in a text. Again I attempted to text my landlord but my Italian phone was somehow stuck on an unfamiliar program that changed every letter I typed to something else as it was guessing what I was trying to say. It was impossible to send a text that made any sense at all so we decided to hoof it to the funicular.
It was already well after 10:00PM by this time and we were wiped out. Every step felt like slugging through wet sand and my back was getting tired. As we reached the half way point to the funicular I glanced at the street and saw a number 1 bus with no sign stopped a few cars back from a traffic light in the middle lane. I started waiving my arms but he started to drive off so I ran into the street and banged on the door. The driver shook his head and pointed ahead to what I presumed was another bus stop. I shook my head as well and kept banging on the door until he opened it. I asked one simple question: "Funicular". He said "Si" so I waved at John and made him come running into the street with cars on either side of us and we got on board.
Two stops later we arrived at the funicular station. It wasn't a long wait for the funicular for which I was grateful but when we got to the piazza at the top we could not find our landlord, Gianmauro. Of course, it had been over an hour since my first text to him so I wasn't surprised. The problem was, even though we new approximately where the apartment is located, generally apartments don't have an office of any kind and the landlord needs to give you a key to get in. I tried texting Gianmauro again but the same stupid program kept changing my letters again. It was idiotic and I wanted to stomp on the stupid phone!
There's a nice little bar, gelateria across the piazza from the funicular. I remembered it well from last year when we had to call our landlord and wait for her to show up. I also had trouble last year calling our landlord because apparently I was not supposed to include the city area code or I was supposed to include it. It got lost in translation but fortunately, a very nice woman who works in the bar used her phone to call our landlord for us last year and explained to her that we were waiting.
Here we were again at the same bar waiting for our landlord. John sat down in one of their outdoor chairs but I felt too guilty to sit without buying something. So I went about asking every man if he was Gianmauro. Most of them looked at me like I was nuts. I kept trying to text with no good results. Finally, the angel from the bar asked if she could help me. There was no way I could explain to her in Italian why I couldn't text. I asked if she knows Gianmauro but she shook her head. I told her the name of the apartment and then some recognition came into her eyes. I showed her Gianmauro's phone number and she called him from her phone and he answered. Amazing. This made two years in a row that we were helped by the woman at the bar. It was embarrasing and I hope she doesn't recognize us the next time we are in Bergamo!
Gianmauro was at the apartment and said he'd be right over. When he arrived I tried to explain to him about the buses and the texts but it was lost in translation. He spoke very good English as well but didn't understand what I was saying about the Colle Aperto bus. He told me then that Colle Aperto is on the opposite side of the Citta Alta where the second funicular is located. He said people make that mistake all the time and go all the way to Colle Aperto and then have to walk across town to his apartment. I tried to explain that was not my intent, just the direction we needed but he just shook his head as if saying "stupid tourists" so I gave up. Even in English, I can't explain myself sometimes. Maybe it was just going for over 24 hours without any sleep and trying to concentrate on my Italian and all that walking that caused my inability to communicate. Plus having to use a foreign phone that I use only once per year when we go abroad made things even more difficult. Whatever the reason, it was a great relief to find Gianmauro still waiting around and to have such a wonderful apartment to rest in. I decided to concentrate on small talk and find out what restaurants might still be open at 11:00PM.
In Croatia I put my list of words to work with mostly positive reviews. I knew how to say "please and thank you" and how to order a beer and a whole list of restaurant talk which I put to use first in Dubrovnik, then later in Split and Trogir. When we were walking the ramparts of Dubrovnik we stopped at a public WC where a very nice restroom attendant was in charge. I greated her in Croatian and she greated me back in kind. I got out my list of words to ask her a question and she gave me an entire Croatian language lesson while I waited for the john. It was fun. I had forgotten the word for goodbye so she told me that too and when I left I said goodbye and thank you in Croatian. She was all smiles.
In Athens I impressed the hell out of every clerk and waiter with my pronunciation of thank you which I cannot spell here but it sounds like "heff car east toe'". I could also greet them with the non-formal "Yassas", which is much easier than their formal greetings. Nothing there was lost in translation, though the only bus we took was in Piraeus to the metro stop and we had no tickets when we boarded because my practical tips advised we could purchase them from a newstand or ticket box. There was no ticket box at the cruise terminal in Piraeus so we went to a newstand only to find out they don't sell bus tickets. The good news is that the bus driver spoke English and gave us a free ride. We promised to buy our all day metro/bus passes at the metro station. Outstanding! Nothing was lost in translation there.
Being misunderstood or lost in translation isn't always a bad thing. The first time we went to Verona, Italy many years ago, I told John he was going to practice his Italian on that particular trip. I even enrolled both of us in an Italian 1 course which we both enjoyed immensly. Still, throughout the entire trip all over Italy, John froze up and made me do the talking. When we approached the desk clerk at a hotel in Verona, I nodded to John that it was his turn. He had all the words memorized and was ready to go. John politely greeted the desk clerk. He correctly requested a double room with private bath. He even asked for the nightly rate. I was impressed. Then John asked the clerk "Acete carta di genica?", or in English "Do you accept toilet paper?". The clerk looked at me with a very bemused face and we both lost it at the same time. Poor John, we howling in laughter and John didn't even know what he'd said. Before I could ask the clerk myself if he accepted credit cards he shrugged his shoulders and said "Maybe". We laughed some more and then he agreed they also accept credit cards.
For months after we returned home I looked for the charge for our stay in Verona on my credit card statements but we were never charged for our two night stay. Perhaps a little "lost in translation" can be a good thing, an ice-breaker, even a way to make new friends, as long as you can laugh about it.
Dobragenie (I think that's how it's spelled)
I'm sure you've all heard the saying "Lost in Translation" and many of you might even have seen the movie so you'll understand this little tale from my most recent visit to Italy, Croatia, Greece and Turkey.
First I'd like to say that I always work very hard at speaking the language no matter where I am. In some places, France, Italy and Spain, for instance, I do very well, particularly in France. I studied Greek for about three months before our first adventure to that country and even made up a list of helpful words and phrases to use in Croatia. It's fun attempting to speak different languages and also very rewarding when they understand you. This is why it can be extremely frustrating when they don't.
We had rented an apartment in Bergamo, Italy in advance and being that it was our first stop after a very long flight, a shorter flight and then a 2 hour train ride, I wanted everything to go smoothly. Most of the transportation did go smoothly. The flights were on time. The train left right on schedule but then there was the hour's delay I mentioned before. This put our arrival in Bergamo after 9:00PM.
Since we had never arrived in Bergamo by train before, I asked the landlord if he meet us there. He responded that it is an easy 20 minute walk from the station to the funicular or a short bus ride and he would meet us at the top of the funicular. He said to send him a text upon our arrival and not to call him. Keep in mind, Bergamo is a hilltown. The lower city, the Citta Bassa, is modern and sprawling but flat. The upper city, the Citta Alta, is quite a climb and is best reached by the funicular which goes right up the side to the top. There are higher points than that in the Citta Alta and also another funicular leaving from the opposite side going up to another village which is even higher than Bergamo. This funicular is called Colle Aperto.
Before we left home as part of my extensive preparation and planning, all of which I type up in my "Practical Tips", I researched the buses in Bergamo and found that the number 1 bus leaves directly from the station in the direction of Colle Aperto and stops at the funicular station that we wanted. It is always important when traveling in a strange city in Europe especially to know the name of the end of the line for the buses so you don't go in the wrong direction. This happened to us years ago in Siena and we had a very long ride into the countryside in the wrong direction. Never again! Most buses have two directions unless you happen to be boarding at the beginning of the line. The bus number 1, for instance goes to Colle Aperto and in the opposite direction to the airport. These names are usually in large print on the front of the bus.
I printed out the schedule and directions to find the correct bus so we wouldn't waste time wandering about. Not all buses stop directly in front of the station. Several stop in an area off to the right across the small traffic circle. According to Fodor's, I believe, the number 1 bus was one of the latter. As soon as we arrived we headed out the front door of the station across the traffic circle to the bus stop. It was dark and there were lots of buses coming and going but no number 1. In the meantime, I sent a text to our landlord who said he would be waiting for us at the top of the funicular by the time we arrived. Finally I asked someone where the number 1 bus comes and she pointed to the front of the train station. Of course, one simple little piece of information had to be wrong. It happens all the time.
We returned to the front of the station where there is a traffic island in the middle with buses stopping on the left and on the right. None of them were number 1s. I sent another text to our landlord and he said again to take the bus to the funicular and he'd meet us. So we waited. We were both exhausted. No one standing outside the station, and by this point there were very few, knew about the number 1 bus. I saw two buses pass that said Aeropuerto (airport) so it made sense that the number 1 bus was still running. I began boarding every bus that arrived and asking them about the bus to Colle Aperto. Each driver said no, not this bus. I was beginning to worry at this point. Finally a bus arrived in the correct spot so I asked the driver in my best Italian if the bus went to Colle Aperto. He said "No, finished." in English. He said we would have to walk. Before I could clarify my question, he took off. I told John what the driver said and he replied "I knew it.".
At this point I sent a text to our landlord advising that the bus is no longer running and we would have to walk. He texted back again saying to take the bus to the funicular and he would meed us at the top. Obviously he did not get my meaning. I decided to call him even though he said not to but got no answer. Now I was mad. I knew we had to get off at the funicular. I knew we had to take the number 1 bus towards Colle Aperto. I just couldn't explain it in a text. Again I attempted to text my landlord but my Italian phone was somehow stuck on an unfamiliar program that changed every letter I typed to something else as it was guessing what I was trying to say. It was impossible to send a text that made any sense at all so we decided to hoof it to the funicular.
It was already well after 10:00PM by this time and we were wiped out. Every step felt like slugging through wet sand and my back was getting tired. As we reached the half way point to the funicular I glanced at the street and saw a number 1 bus with no sign stopped a few cars back from a traffic light in the middle lane. I started waiving my arms but he started to drive off so I ran into the street and banged on the door. The driver shook his head and pointed ahead to what I presumed was another bus stop. I shook my head as well and kept banging on the door until he opened it. I asked one simple question: "Funicular". He said "Si" so I waved at John and made him come running into the street with cars on either side of us and we got on board.
Two stops later we arrived at the funicular station. It wasn't a long wait for the funicular for which I was grateful but when we got to the piazza at the top we could not find our landlord, Gianmauro. Of course, it had been over an hour since my first text to him so I wasn't surprised. The problem was, even though we new approximately where the apartment is located, generally apartments don't have an office of any kind and the landlord needs to give you a key to get in. I tried texting Gianmauro again but the same stupid program kept changing my letters again. It was idiotic and I wanted to stomp on the stupid phone!
There's a nice little bar, gelateria across the piazza from the funicular. I remembered it well from last year when we had to call our landlord and wait for her to show up. I also had trouble last year calling our landlord because apparently I was not supposed to include the city area code or I was supposed to include it. It got lost in translation but fortunately, a very nice woman who works in the bar used her phone to call our landlord for us last year and explained to her that we were waiting.
Here we were again at the same bar waiting for our landlord. John sat down in one of their outdoor chairs but I felt too guilty to sit without buying something. So I went about asking every man if he was Gianmauro. Most of them looked at me like I was nuts. I kept trying to text with no good results. Finally, the angel from the bar asked if she could help me. There was no way I could explain to her in Italian why I couldn't text. I asked if she knows Gianmauro but she shook her head. I told her the name of the apartment and then some recognition came into her eyes. I showed her Gianmauro's phone number and she called him from her phone and he answered. Amazing. This made two years in a row that we were helped by the woman at the bar. It was embarrasing and I hope she doesn't recognize us the next time we are in Bergamo!
Gianmauro was at the apartment and said he'd be right over. When he arrived I tried to explain to him about the buses and the texts but it was lost in translation. He spoke very good English as well but didn't understand what I was saying about the Colle Aperto bus. He told me then that Colle Aperto is on the opposite side of the Citta Alta where the second funicular is located. He said people make that mistake all the time and go all the way to Colle Aperto and then have to walk across town to his apartment. I tried to explain that was not my intent, just the direction we needed but he just shook his head as if saying "stupid tourists" so I gave up. Even in English, I can't explain myself sometimes. Maybe it was just going for over 24 hours without any sleep and trying to concentrate on my Italian and all that walking that caused my inability to communicate. Plus having to use a foreign phone that I use only once per year when we go abroad made things even more difficult. Whatever the reason, it was a great relief to find Gianmauro still waiting around and to have such a wonderful apartment to rest in. I decided to concentrate on small talk and find out what restaurants might still be open at 11:00PM.
In Croatia I put my list of words to work with mostly positive reviews. I knew how to say "please and thank you" and how to order a beer and a whole list of restaurant talk which I put to use first in Dubrovnik, then later in Split and Trogir. When we were walking the ramparts of Dubrovnik we stopped at a public WC where a very nice restroom attendant was in charge. I greated her in Croatian and she greated me back in kind. I got out my list of words to ask her a question and she gave me an entire Croatian language lesson while I waited for the john. It was fun. I had forgotten the word for goodbye so she told me that too and when I left I said goodbye and thank you in Croatian. She was all smiles.
In Athens I impressed the hell out of every clerk and waiter with my pronunciation of thank you which I cannot spell here but it sounds like "heff car east toe'". I could also greet them with the non-formal "Yassas", which is much easier than their formal greetings. Nothing there was lost in translation, though the only bus we took was in Piraeus to the metro stop and we had no tickets when we boarded because my practical tips advised we could purchase them from a newstand or ticket box. There was no ticket box at the cruise terminal in Piraeus so we went to a newstand only to find out they don't sell bus tickets. The good news is that the bus driver spoke English and gave us a free ride. We promised to buy our all day metro/bus passes at the metro station. Outstanding! Nothing was lost in translation there.
Being misunderstood or lost in translation isn't always a bad thing. The first time we went to Verona, Italy many years ago, I told John he was going to practice his Italian on that particular trip. I even enrolled both of us in an Italian 1 course which we both enjoyed immensly. Still, throughout the entire trip all over Italy, John froze up and made me do the talking. When we approached the desk clerk at a hotel in Verona, I nodded to John that it was his turn. He had all the words memorized and was ready to go. John politely greeted the desk clerk. He correctly requested a double room with private bath. He even asked for the nightly rate. I was impressed. Then John asked the clerk "Acete carta di genica?", or in English "Do you accept toilet paper?". The clerk looked at me with a very bemused face and we both lost it at the same time. Poor John, we howling in laughter and John didn't even know what he'd said. Before I could ask the clerk myself if he accepted credit cards he shrugged his shoulders and said "Maybe". We laughed some more and then he agreed they also accept credit cards.
For months after we returned home I looked for the charge for our stay in Verona on my credit card statements but we were never charged for our two night stay. Perhaps a little "lost in translation" can be a good thing, an ice-breaker, even a way to make new friends, as long as you can laugh about it.
Dobragenie (I think that's how it's spelled)
Friday, June 17, 2011
A Wonderful Trip in Review
Dear Reader,
It's been far too long since my last blog and there are many new stories to tell. John and I just returned two weeks ago from three weeks in Italy, Croatia, Greece and Turkey, by land and by cruise. It was a wonderful vacation and we made many lasting memories. I would like to tell some of the highlights and lowlights today but will go into more detail about some of my favorite experiences throughout my next several blogs.
First of all, those of you who run your own business and travel a lot know how difficult it is to get caught up once you return home with the mail, bills, clients, family, weeds in the garden, and just business in general. It can be quite daunting and I tend to allow it to take over my life for a couple of weeks. My apologies for waiting so long to tell my story.
For the fourth year in a row we decided to combine our land tour of a European country with a cruise for several reasons not the least of which is financial. The Euro has once again risen to terrifying heights and our dollar just doesn't compete anymore. Hotel prices are higher than ever as well as meals and everything else. On a cruise ship you take your hotel room with you everywhere you go and get free meals as well. This saves quite a bit of money. Plus the transportation is another consideration. We got to travel all the way to Croatia, Greece and Turkey without spending an extra dime. This is decided advantage.
Another reason to combine a cruise with a trip to Europe is that it allows you a chance to relax, wind down, and catch your breath. Our cruise had two free days at sea which was a wonderful opportunity to heal blisters, catch up on some reading, swim and heal sore muscles in one of the many spas. By the time we joined our cruise ship in Venice we had already hiked all over Northern Italy with our packs and without and had pretty much been on the move non-stop. We were ready for some pampering.
This vacation was our second visit two years in a row to Northern Italy, Bergamo, Bolzano and Venice. Last year was so much fun but our visit was too short in some places that we felt a return visit was warranted. Also we had two good friends going with us to whom I wanted to introduce these places. Unfortunately they were unable to make it and we mourned their absence. However, after a few days John and I were back to our usual delight at being in such wonderous places.
Bergamo was as wonderful as we remembered. This medieval hilltown is only an hour from Milan and easily toured in one day. The weather was fabulous, warm and sunny, and our apartment was perfect, just down the street one block from the main piazza. We spent our first two days just enjoying the place, wandering about, revisiting some of the sights and basically recuperating from our 11 hour flight to Frankfurt, a second flight to Milan, a train to Bergamo which got stuck on the tracks for an hour's delay while a man who apparently had a stroke was being tended to, then a hike to the funicular because the buses had stopped running. It is the perfect place to begin a long vacation and just smell the flowers.
Next we returned to Bolzano to once again see Ortzi the Iceman, the worlds oldest mummy, as well as see the rest that Bolzano and the Alto Adige in the Dolomites has to offer. Once again we reserved an apartment in Soprabolzano, the small village high in the mountains overlooking Bolzano and accessible by a 16 minute ride on a funicular or cablecar. They call it a funicular but it's a large car on wires dangling over the mountains as you ascend. This ride alone is worth the trip and with three nights in Soprabolzano, we had plenty of opportunity to ride it every day, sometimes more than twice.
One disappointment I must mention was our apartment. Our landlady had promised to meet us at the top of the funicular and give us a ride to the apartment because it is straight uphill and we had our packs. I promised I would call her the minute we arrived by train and had also provided her with our train information just in case. After walking about 8 minutes from the train station to the funicular station I managed to call her but there was no answer and no machine. I tried calling all the way up the mountain and never reached her.
A group of teenage students and their teacher were riding with us on the funicular and overheard my problem. The teacher told me one of her students lives next to the apartment and would take us there. That was really very kind. As soon as we arrived in Soprabolzano he took off on foot with us in tow. The climb wasn't too bad at first but long and I had to eventually stop and rest. It was once again sunny and felt very warm and my pack was getting very heavy. John kept up with him and told me to follow when I could. The boy finally stopped and walked through a gate. John asked him if that was the apartment and he said "No, it's my place, the apartment is right around the corner." So off we went again up up and up somemore. The road got very steep and was bordered mostly by forest and an occasional house but there were few addresses anywhere. I lagged behind once again. Finally, the boy stopped and told John the apartment was just up a bit further on the right side and left us. John stopped and waited for me.
By the time I caught up with John I was really a mess and my bad ankle was hurting. There appeared to be no end in sight and no apartment was visible. We had no way of finding it so I tried calling her again but there was no answer. Moments like these make you wonder why you spent countless hours planning and studying maps to make sure that moments like these don't happen! We looked at each other and agreed to screw the apartment and find a hotel down near the funicular. We had passed a beautiful place early on and also a short cut dirt road leading down to it. It was quite steep but we both managed not to sprain any more ankles.
At this point I would like to highly recommend the Hotel Latemar in Soprabolzano. We walked in without a reservation and got a beautiful modern corner room with a wrap around private balcony facing south and the mountains for only 60.00 Euros per night including a fabulous breakfast. This mother and daughter establishment looks like a giant chalet with the geraniums in all the windows and even has a lift. There is also a beautiful garden in front with a very large tiled terrace. Breakfast wasn't just coffee and corneto. They served a dish called ham/eggs with homemade prosciutto like ham and two fried eggs cooked on top. There was also cappucino, orange juice, lots of different homemade breads, jams, fresh honey and chocolate. The hotel is located just uphill a short distance from the funicluar which made coming and going to Bolzano much easier. We were very lucky to stay there and will stay there again next time we visit Soprabolzano.
One cannot mention Bolzano without talking about the best bar in Europe, at least in my opinion! We couldn't wait to return to the Fischebank Bar and see the delightful owner, Cobo. The surprising thing was that he remembered us from the year before and was and funny, charming and entertaining as ever. I will write more about this in detail in a blog dedicated to Bolzano. There is just too much to tell and it would be unfair to condense it now. Bolzano is definitely worth a few days and we had an outstanding visit ending every hard working tour day with a few hours at the Fischebank Bar. You ever feel like you've come home again when you are away because the place makes you feel at so comfortable and welcome? That's the Fischebank Bar.
Our next stop was another hilltown, Asolo, in the Trento Adige, about an hour northwest of Venice. Asolo is quite famous and very popular as a tourist destination and yet we had never been there before so I thought it was about time to see what all the fuss was about. It was another hot and sunny day when we took a very crowded train from Bolzano to Trento and another to the small yet bustling Castelfranco Veneto.
My hours of research on transportation to Asolo failed us completely. That combined with the inability to get a map of Castelfranco in advance combined into another minor setback. Supposedly there is an intercity bus which leaves from the train station and stops at the base of Asolo. Then there is supposed to be a free shuttle bus running every half hour from the base of Asolo up into the town itself.
Upon arrival in Castelfranco we bought bus tickets to Asolo at the tabacchi bar in the station and asked the server where and when to catch the bus. She advised that the bus does not leave from the station but rather from the bus station which is only a 15 to 20 minute walk to the left. John and I were in no mood to do another long walk with our packs so we asked a taxi how much for a ride to the bus station. We were quoted 8 Euros. This seemed like a lot to us. Then the owner offered to take us to Asolo for only 20.00 Euros so we said yes! What we didn't realize was that he would drop us off at the bus stop at the base of Asolo instead of taking us up into town. Oh well, we were sitting down and happy to do so.
At Asolo Ca' Vescovo, which is the name of the bus stop, we stood around wondering what to do next. There was a bus stop but we couldn't tell by reading it if any of the buses go into the old town. Fortunately the first bus to arrive did. When I tried to ask if it was the free shuttle the driver didn't understand me so we paid the 1.00 Euro fare and hopped aboard. This bus is called the De Zen. Later we found out at our hotel that the shuttle is free only on Sundays, and I think for locals everyday.
Our hotel, the Hotel Duse, named after the famous actress of the 19th century, Eleanora Duse, was very nice and located right on the main piazza. I say "main piazza" kindly because it is very small indeed. In fact, Asolo itself is very small. Most of it is residential and spreads up and out into the surrounding countryside but the bars and restaurants are all right in the center. Once again, I say "all" kindly because we found only two restaurants in town that were open on a Saturday night. As far as the sightseeing, there really is nothing in town worth all the effort to get there to see.
The sight is the town. It is almost completely Renaissance and a bit run down looking. The queen's palace as it is called is only partially in tact and not open for visits except for the one remaining tower. The castle, way up on a hill overlooking Asolo, is open only on Sundays by appointment. The Duomo is quite old and Romanesque but nothing else can be toured. We did visit a "medieval house" in the basement of the bar "Epoch" which was tiny but interesting in that one of the partially remaining walls was built by the Romans. This we visited after a very long hike through town and out into the countryside past many Renaissance buildings and grand villas to the cemetary where the great Eleanora Duse is buried. This is next to an abbey which cannot be visited. We were looking for the entrance to a grand villa which supposedly has a tunnel underneath leading to the other side of the mountain. However, there was no entrance that we could find. We couldn't find Eleanora Duse either but we did find two long black snakes completely wrapped around each other and wiggling wildly. At first I thought it was a two headed snake until they split up and went in opposite directions. One headed my way and I lost sight of it because I was about six feet above on the overlook so I tiptoed to the edge to find him and sure enough, he was climbing the wall towards me! We both jumped at the same time and he fell to the ground and joined back up with his friend.
Hot, tired, and dusty we returned to our hotel to clean up wondering why we were there. That evening we returned to the same restaurant for dinner where we had eaten lunch, on our street, Via Robert Browning. We really liked the place, Al Baccaro. The food is outstanding and reasonably priced which is rare now in Italy. After dinner we took a stroll in the other direction up Via Robert Browning and returned to the piazza past closed shops and a couple of bar/restaurants. The street was hopping with people. There was a very attractive wine bar we passed as well as a bar with a live jazz band playing. They were a small ansemble of 5-6 musicians but they were very good and the place was packed.
When we returned to the piazza for our evening digestif at Cafe Central, the most popular hangout in town, the place had come alive with crowds of people. It was an amazing metamorphis from that day. We sat and watched the people with their dogs, girls dressed up in very short short strapless dresses and spike heals, and men driving convertible sports cars cruising for parking in a town that was packed and had no parking remaining. They were all wearing silk scarves and suits. Several at the bar were wearing sunglasses at night. It was quite a scene for such a tiny town. The sky was a dark vermillion blue and the stars were abundant. The castle was illuminated as were the Duomo and the tower. John and I realized that that we liked Asolo afterall. It's all just a matter of perspective.
The day we left we knew where to catch the non-free De Zen bus, right outside our hotel in the piazza, and we used our bus tickets to get back to Castelfranco. When we arrived at the bus station in Castelfranco we asked the bus driver if there is city bus to the train station and he pointed to it. We boarded the bus and the driver, as well as a nice lady, both told us where to exit and how to reach the station. This cut our walk down to a manageable distance via a tunnel underneath the tracks and wasn't bad at all. Sometimes no matter how hard you prepare for a trip you simply cannot find out the necessary details until you are there.
That day we took the train to Venice to board our ship, the Norwegian Jade. It was a seven day cruise which is a good length of time to rest up for the next round of travel. Every stage of getting to the ship from the train station went as planned and needless to say I did not fall or sprain my ankle this time.
As far as cruise ships go, the Jade needs some work. Even though I have sailed on her sister ship, the Gem, there is no comparison. The Jade needs new decks, particularly around the swimming pools and spas. The waterfall on the adults only pool wasn't working most of the time. There are old fashioned TVs in the staterooms instead of flat screens as on the Gem. The carpeting on our deck was a hodgepodge of different patterns sewn together. New carpeting is needed throughout. Our stewards were fine but not stellar and didn't introduce themselves until I found them. Even the entertainers weren't as talented as we have experienced on other cruises. By the end of the cruise most of the staff seemed ambivalent and lazy. I've never encountered this on any other cruise and don't know why they were that way. That being said, the food was outstanding, the drinks cold and the beds comfortable. We enjoyed ourselves as always, met some fun people and had great adventures at the ports of call, which I will talk about in another story.
Many times during the vacation John and I toasted "Asolare" a verb created by a poet in Asolo to mean "The Art of Doing Nothing". We devoted as much time as possible to this pursuit and did quite well, I believe. We also realized once again how completely compatible we are when traveling. The same things amuse us, entertain us and piss us off. No matter what happens, we always manage to find a solution, a happy place and pure pleasure in our surroundings.
My parting thought for the day is if you are working yourself too hard, take a break, smell the flowers and drink a toast to Asolare.
Ciao Bella
It's been far too long since my last blog and there are many new stories to tell. John and I just returned two weeks ago from three weeks in Italy, Croatia, Greece and Turkey, by land and by cruise. It was a wonderful vacation and we made many lasting memories. I would like to tell some of the highlights and lowlights today but will go into more detail about some of my favorite experiences throughout my next several blogs.
First of all, those of you who run your own business and travel a lot know how difficult it is to get caught up once you return home with the mail, bills, clients, family, weeds in the garden, and just business in general. It can be quite daunting and I tend to allow it to take over my life for a couple of weeks. My apologies for waiting so long to tell my story.
For the fourth year in a row we decided to combine our land tour of a European country with a cruise for several reasons not the least of which is financial. The Euro has once again risen to terrifying heights and our dollar just doesn't compete anymore. Hotel prices are higher than ever as well as meals and everything else. On a cruise ship you take your hotel room with you everywhere you go and get free meals as well. This saves quite a bit of money. Plus the transportation is another consideration. We got to travel all the way to Croatia, Greece and Turkey without spending an extra dime. This is decided advantage.
Another reason to combine a cruise with a trip to Europe is that it allows you a chance to relax, wind down, and catch your breath. Our cruise had two free days at sea which was a wonderful opportunity to heal blisters, catch up on some reading, swim and heal sore muscles in one of the many spas. By the time we joined our cruise ship in Venice we had already hiked all over Northern Italy with our packs and without and had pretty much been on the move non-stop. We were ready for some pampering.
This vacation was our second visit two years in a row to Northern Italy, Bergamo, Bolzano and Venice. Last year was so much fun but our visit was too short in some places that we felt a return visit was warranted. Also we had two good friends going with us to whom I wanted to introduce these places. Unfortunately they were unable to make it and we mourned their absence. However, after a few days John and I were back to our usual delight at being in such wonderous places.
Bergamo was as wonderful as we remembered. This medieval hilltown is only an hour from Milan and easily toured in one day. The weather was fabulous, warm and sunny, and our apartment was perfect, just down the street one block from the main piazza. We spent our first two days just enjoying the place, wandering about, revisiting some of the sights and basically recuperating from our 11 hour flight to Frankfurt, a second flight to Milan, a train to Bergamo which got stuck on the tracks for an hour's delay while a man who apparently had a stroke was being tended to, then a hike to the funicular because the buses had stopped running. It is the perfect place to begin a long vacation and just smell the flowers.
Next we returned to Bolzano to once again see Ortzi the Iceman, the worlds oldest mummy, as well as see the rest that Bolzano and the Alto Adige in the Dolomites has to offer. Once again we reserved an apartment in Soprabolzano, the small village high in the mountains overlooking Bolzano and accessible by a 16 minute ride on a funicular or cablecar. They call it a funicular but it's a large car on wires dangling over the mountains as you ascend. This ride alone is worth the trip and with three nights in Soprabolzano, we had plenty of opportunity to ride it every day, sometimes more than twice.
One disappointment I must mention was our apartment. Our landlady had promised to meet us at the top of the funicular and give us a ride to the apartment because it is straight uphill and we had our packs. I promised I would call her the minute we arrived by train and had also provided her with our train information just in case. After walking about 8 minutes from the train station to the funicular station I managed to call her but there was no answer and no machine. I tried calling all the way up the mountain and never reached her.
A group of teenage students and their teacher were riding with us on the funicular and overheard my problem. The teacher told me one of her students lives next to the apartment and would take us there. That was really very kind. As soon as we arrived in Soprabolzano he took off on foot with us in tow. The climb wasn't too bad at first but long and I had to eventually stop and rest. It was once again sunny and felt very warm and my pack was getting very heavy. John kept up with him and told me to follow when I could. The boy finally stopped and walked through a gate. John asked him if that was the apartment and he said "No, it's my place, the apartment is right around the corner." So off we went again up up and up somemore. The road got very steep and was bordered mostly by forest and an occasional house but there were few addresses anywhere. I lagged behind once again. Finally, the boy stopped and told John the apartment was just up a bit further on the right side and left us. John stopped and waited for me.
By the time I caught up with John I was really a mess and my bad ankle was hurting. There appeared to be no end in sight and no apartment was visible. We had no way of finding it so I tried calling her again but there was no answer. Moments like these make you wonder why you spent countless hours planning and studying maps to make sure that moments like these don't happen! We looked at each other and agreed to screw the apartment and find a hotel down near the funicular. We had passed a beautiful place early on and also a short cut dirt road leading down to it. It was quite steep but we both managed not to sprain any more ankles.
At this point I would like to highly recommend the Hotel Latemar in Soprabolzano. We walked in without a reservation and got a beautiful modern corner room with a wrap around private balcony facing south and the mountains for only 60.00 Euros per night including a fabulous breakfast. This mother and daughter establishment looks like a giant chalet with the geraniums in all the windows and even has a lift. There is also a beautiful garden in front with a very large tiled terrace. Breakfast wasn't just coffee and corneto. They served a dish called ham/eggs with homemade prosciutto like ham and two fried eggs cooked on top. There was also cappucino, orange juice, lots of different homemade breads, jams, fresh honey and chocolate. The hotel is located just uphill a short distance from the funicluar which made coming and going to Bolzano much easier. We were very lucky to stay there and will stay there again next time we visit Soprabolzano.
One cannot mention Bolzano without talking about the best bar in Europe, at least in my opinion! We couldn't wait to return to the Fischebank Bar and see the delightful owner, Cobo. The surprising thing was that he remembered us from the year before and was and funny, charming and entertaining as ever. I will write more about this in detail in a blog dedicated to Bolzano. There is just too much to tell and it would be unfair to condense it now. Bolzano is definitely worth a few days and we had an outstanding visit ending every hard working tour day with a few hours at the Fischebank Bar. You ever feel like you've come home again when you are away because the place makes you feel at so comfortable and welcome? That's the Fischebank Bar.
Our next stop was another hilltown, Asolo, in the Trento Adige, about an hour northwest of Venice. Asolo is quite famous and very popular as a tourist destination and yet we had never been there before so I thought it was about time to see what all the fuss was about. It was another hot and sunny day when we took a very crowded train from Bolzano to Trento and another to the small yet bustling Castelfranco Veneto.
My hours of research on transportation to Asolo failed us completely. That combined with the inability to get a map of Castelfranco in advance combined into another minor setback. Supposedly there is an intercity bus which leaves from the train station and stops at the base of Asolo. Then there is supposed to be a free shuttle bus running every half hour from the base of Asolo up into the town itself.
Upon arrival in Castelfranco we bought bus tickets to Asolo at the tabacchi bar in the station and asked the server where and when to catch the bus. She advised that the bus does not leave from the station but rather from the bus station which is only a 15 to 20 minute walk to the left. John and I were in no mood to do another long walk with our packs so we asked a taxi how much for a ride to the bus station. We were quoted 8 Euros. This seemed like a lot to us. Then the owner offered to take us to Asolo for only 20.00 Euros so we said yes! What we didn't realize was that he would drop us off at the bus stop at the base of Asolo instead of taking us up into town. Oh well, we were sitting down and happy to do so.
At Asolo Ca' Vescovo, which is the name of the bus stop, we stood around wondering what to do next. There was a bus stop but we couldn't tell by reading it if any of the buses go into the old town. Fortunately the first bus to arrive did. When I tried to ask if it was the free shuttle the driver didn't understand me so we paid the 1.00 Euro fare and hopped aboard. This bus is called the De Zen. Later we found out at our hotel that the shuttle is free only on Sundays, and I think for locals everyday.
Our hotel, the Hotel Duse, named after the famous actress of the 19th century, Eleanora Duse, was very nice and located right on the main piazza. I say "main piazza" kindly because it is very small indeed. In fact, Asolo itself is very small. Most of it is residential and spreads up and out into the surrounding countryside but the bars and restaurants are all right in the center. Once again, I say "all" kindly because we found only two restaurants in town that were open on a Saturday night. As far as the sightseeing, there really is nothing in town worth all the effort to get there to see.
The sight is the town. It is almost completely Renaissance and a bit run down looking. The queen's palace as it is called is only partially in tact and not open for visits except for the one remaining tower. The castle, way up on a hill overlooking Asolo, is open only on Sundays by appointment. The Duomo is quite old and Romanesque but nothing else can be toured. We did visit a "medieval house" in the basement of the bar "Epoch" which was tiny but interesting in that one of the partially remaining walls was built by the Romans. This we visited after a very long hike through town and out into the countryside past many Renaissance buildings and grand villas to the cemetary where the great Eleanora Duse is buried. This is next to an abbey which cannot be visited. We were looking for the entrance to a grand villa which supposedly has a tunnel underneath leading to the other side of the mountain. However, there was no entrance that we could find. We couldn't find Eleanora Duse either but we did find two long black snakes completely wrapped around each other and wiggling wildly. At first I thought it was a two headed snake until they split up and went in opposite directions. One headed my way and I lost sight of it because I was about six feet above on the overlook so I tiptoed to the edge to find him and sure enough, he was climbing the wall towards me! We both jumped at the same time and he fell to the ground and joined back up with his friend.
Hot, tired, and dusty we returned to our hotel to clean up wondering why we were there. That evening we returned to the same restaurant for dinner where we had eaten lunch, on our street, Via Robert Browning. We really liked the place, Al Baccaro. The food is outstanding and reasonably priced which is rare now in Italy. After dinner we took a stroll in the other direction up Via Robert Browning and returned to the piazza past closed shops and a couple of bar/restaurants. The street was hopping with people. There was a very attractive wine bar we passed as well as a bar with a live jazz band playing. They were a small ansemble of 5-6 musicians but they were very good and the place was packed.
When we returned to the piazza for our evening digestif at Cafe Central, the most popular hangout in town, the place had come alive with crowds of people. It was an amazing metamorphis from that day. We sat and watched the people with their dogs, girls dressed up in very short short strapless dresses and spike heals, and men driving convertible sports cars cruising for parking in a town that was packed and had no parking remaining. They were all wearing silk scarves and suits. Several at the bar were wearing sunglasses at night. It was quite a scene for such a tiny town. The sky was a dark vermillion blue and the stars were abundant. The castle was illuminated as were the Duomo and the tower. John and I realized that that we liked Asolo afterall. It's all just a matter of perspective.
The day we left we knew where to catch the non-free De Zen bus, right outside our hotel in the piazza, and we used our bus tickets to get back to Castelfranco. When we arrived at the bus station in Castelfranco we asked the bus driver if there is city bus to the train station and he pointed to it. We boarded the bus and the driver, as well as a nice lady, both told us where to exit and how to reach the station. This cut our walk down to a manageable distance via a tunnel underneath the tracks and wasn't bad at all. Sometimes no matter how hard you prepare for a trip you simply cannot find out the necessary details until you are there.
That day we took the train to Venice to board our ship, the Norwegian Jade. It was a seven day cruise which is a good length of time to rest up for the next round of travel. Every stage of getting to the ship from the train station went as planned and needless to say I did not fall or sprain my ankle this time.
As far as cruise ships go, the Jade needs some work. Even though I have sailed on her sister ship, the Gem, there is no comparison. The Jade needs new decks, particularly around the swimming pools and spas. The waterfall on the adults only pool wasn't working most of the time. There are old fashioned TVs in the staterooms instead of flat screens as on the Gem. The carpeting on our deck was a hodgepodge of different patterns sewn together. New carpeting is needed throughout. Our stewards were fine but not stellar and didn't introduce themselves until I found them. Even the entertainers weren't as talented as we have experienced on other cruises. By the end of the cruise most of the staff seemed ambivalent and lazy. I've never encountered this on any other cruise and don't know why they were that way. That being said, the food was outstanding, the drinks cold and the beds comfortable. We enjoyed ourselves as always, met some fun people and had great adventures at the ports of call, which I will talk about in another story.
Many times during the vacation John and I toasted "Asolare" a verb created by a poet in Asolo to mean "The Art of Doing Nothing". We devoted as much time as possible to this pursuit and did quite well, I believe. We also realized once again how completely compatible we are when traveling. The same things amuse us, entertain us and piss us off. No matter what happens, we always manage to find a solution, a happy place and pure pleasure in our surroundings.
My parting thought for the day is if you are working yourself too hard, take a break, smell the flowers and drink a toast to Asolare.
Ciao Bella
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