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Italy Trip
I have tried with my accounts of my trips to style them a bit differently each time, and that has been relatively easy and still entertaining[1]. The trip I took from January 2nd through the 15th 2016 with my niece, Kelsey O’Rourke (see below), was different than the others and has to have a different style. I planned most of the trip, though Kelsey had sent me links to many of the activities, such as museums to reserve spots for and tours I needed to arrange in advance, so it required more computer time than the others I’d done where travel agents, tour guides, or my friends had set things up. I am quite happy trying to stick to itineraries anyone is willing to foist on me, but I have also shown a knack for arranging things myself.
Kelsey O’Rourke: a 21 year old, recent early graduate of the University of Pittsburgh, Kelsey is well liked by everyone who meets her. She had not been running, but she was in good enough shape to do a lot of walking every day. She has some of her father’s excellent sense of direction and shares the O’Rourke stubbornness and determination. She often wandered ahead and was hard to find; reminded me a lot of me. In my opinion, we got along great and were a great team. She was definitely well suited to the Terry method of travel: do as much as possible while it is light and go to bed early. My guess as to Kelsey’s number one memory of our trip: “Uncle Terry farts more than anyone else.” She will add comments throughout in italics. She loved taking quick photos with her new camera. (So quick, I didn’t even have to stop walking. –KO’) #bestuncle. (Agreed. –KO’)
[1] . Wishful thinking? Maybe
Highlights:
We were nonstop during the days and saw as much as humanly possible, allowing for getting off course a few times. My standout memories:
Beggars: there were super pathetic beggars near every entrance to nearly place in Rome – the standard posture was back bent at 90 degrees with a cane, though one woman was prostrate on the cobblestones. I only gave one some change.
Selfie Sticks/Umbrellas for sale! Almost everywhere we went, maybe except for Venice, there were Asian and African men trying to get us to buy either one of those things, HUNDREDS of times
Smokers! I joked after my last trip that Italy ran on coffee and cigarettes. Too many people smoke there and they don’t care if other people have to breathe it in (see footnote 3 later)
Drinks expensive at restaurants, and hidden fees abounded.
When we left our hotel room, we had a "Grammy Check" - all the lights off; "Pappy Check" - did someone have the key; and, later, "Kelsey Check" - make sure the door was shut, as Kelsey didn't close it all the way twice.
The Museums were not as crowded as I remembered when I was there in the summer of 1996.
The hotels had universally good and “free” wifi.
Almost every restaurant had guys posted to try to talk you into eating there.
I am great at selfies. (No he is not. –KO’)
The Chronology:
01/02/2016: Saturday
I woke up feeling ill, but I ran anyway. A kid had coughed right in my face three days prior and at the time, I knew it was coming. I hoped it would just be a mild cold. We left on time in my car after my inquiries into using Kelsey’s Honda were met with perceived indifference. My diesel Jetta had just been in for its 10000 mile service three days prior and passed with flying colors, but it has only front wheel drive and we didn’t know how cold or snowy it might be when we got back, so a few if’s there. Otherwise the drive down was smooth, parking easy to find, and ticketing and security as easy as possible. The flight departed quickly with minimal taxiing (rarely happens at Philly), and we were off, with an uneventful journey (I enjoyed the movie, “Mistress America” – will be a cult classic) and on time arrival. Customs and passport control were no major problem and we were out in the airport area to meet our ride.
I read Mindy Kaling’s first book on the plane, which was delightful, if anyone was wondering. –KO’
01/03:
Kelsey had talked of posing for photos with the person holding the “O’Rourke” sign, but she quickly passed us off to a take-charge driver who took us to an ATM and then out to his waiting diesel Mercedes. Having not been to Rome, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The lay of the land was mildly hilly and there were no skyscrapers. The view from the road was typical of nearly any small urban area. We cruised within sight of St. Peter’s dome and over a bridge, then were quickly on a cobblestone alley and in front of our hotel, the Hotel Campo de’ Fiori, listed as a “boutique” 4 star hotel. The building resembled a brown row house and had some vines creeping on its front. We were greeted cheerfully by the helpful staff who sat us down after check in and depositing our bags, to give us the rundown.
The Campo de’ Fiori is a well-known tourist destination: a thriving and busy market by day that is cleared out completely as the sun sets to allow all the restaurants on its perimeter to dominate the evenings, only to be set up again as a market the next day before sunrise. It is a great location for a Roman vacation, as it is within walking distance of nearly every notable Roman site. Except we weren’t going to be staying at the hotel. I had booked one of its apartments, but we were told, “There is a problem.” It took a bit for it to register, but the apartment apparently had a broken water main and had no water; there were no other rooms available, so we were being moved to the Hotel Casa de Fieri right nearby in the little plaza, not 60 feet away. It was only a 3 star hotel[2] but it included breakfast, so the price was not changed. For now we would leave our bags on deposit at the first hotel and would move in when we returned later in the day. He showed us all the good places to go on the map and we left for our first stop that Sunday: the Vatican to see the Pope.
[2] It didn’t even have a sign. That must dock you one star right out.
As usual, I had several agendas as we walked: scope out the area, check out running options, and see how long it took to get there as we had a tour reserved at the Vatican Museum the next day. The streets were not as busy as I expected and the day was sunnier than predicted, which was soothing when one has not slept much. We were off a little on our route but quickly corrected it to go over the Ponte Vittorio Emmaneule II, which had beautiful statues on it and great views of Castel Sant’ Angelo. As we headed down from the bridge to the road to St. Peter’s, the crowds thickened, but still there were not as many people as I thought there would be.
We walked up the road, which was blocked to most traffic, and I smiled as I saw the many nuns and priests moving around. It was not obvious when we arrived what to do, but we gathered we had to wait in line for security and it was otherwise free to enter the square. An initial trend was noted at this time[3]: one of the three guards screening people was smoking while he frisked and (rarely) talked to the visitors.
[3] Way too many Italians smoke with no regard for those around them.
Once past that security check, we were in the heart of St. Peter’s Square, but not that close to the Basilica. We wandered about, wondering where the Pope would appear. I recalled him standing on a balcony outside a window on one of the side buildings, but Kelsey was sure he would stand on a balcony on St. Peter’s (turns out that was where a new pope is introduced). We realized to get the best view we had to go through another security check, and after that there were more people and less space, but still not bad. After ten minutes or so of standing around, there was a brief cheer as a maroon drape was hung from one of the windows I thought he might speak from, and in another twenty minutes, we could see a small white figure at the podium they’d set up, and Pope Francis was soon speaking to us.
The crowd wasn’t ecstatic, but there were cheers and nuns waving handkerchiefs. He talked about the Jubilee Year of Misericordia/Mercy he’d proclaimed in an address of about 12 minutes or so (even at that length, it dragged since he only spoke Italian). After he finished, we left the square slowly, as there were multiple bottlenecks, and the crowds held us up until we were re-crossing the bridge. We wandered into the many alleys with their charming lights hanging across them looking for a place to eat lunch and eventually chose a place in an alley off the Campo de’ Fiori. We started with some bruschetta, which was delicious – everything so fresh and tasty. I got pistachio and pear pasta in a cream sauce – so good.
It was a short stroll back to the hotel to get our bags, which the super helpful young desk clerk hauled over to the other hotel. They ushered us into the room, which was small and had only one bed. I was sure I’d booked twin beds throughout. Fortunately there was a chaise like chair that was easily converted into a single bed for Kelsey. I needed to sleep alone: I was sick, I was tired, and I never sleep well in the same bed with anyone. It did make for one less chair, but unlike me, Kelsey is not a light sleeper and can go to sleep in the same bed she has spent the evening reading in (I must practice good sleep hygiene and only sleep in the bed).
There was still plenty of day left, so we did just a bit of unpacking and headed back out. The first stop was the Piazza Navona, an area just north of us. I was a bit surprised to see what it was like: impressive old buildings surrounding a very touristy plaza, with a carousel and lots of street performers, including a flame-juggling guy who picked the pocket of the guy who helped him get on his unicycle. (It was a great first impression of Rome… –KO’) We headed east and came upon the Pantheon, a jaw-dropping huge building that somehow looks small at the same time. It looked like it was put in its piazza by CGI graphics, a bit grainy and gray in contrast to the more modern buildings surrounding it. It was one of our favorites. We went in, and I noticed first the warning signs about pickpockets. It is very impressive, with its huge dome, complete with hole at the top. Dimly lit, it did not make for great photos, but there were very nice frescoes, statues and a few famous tombs. (Including Raphael! –KO’)
We headed further east to the St. Ignazio de Loyola Church, which had fantastic paintings, and from there we found the Temple Adriano, which as best we could tell was only the columns and façade, all of which were pock-marked. It was a short walk to the famous Trevi Fountain, which was packed with people on a still sunny day. The water was light blue, the statues shiny, and the din of all the people talking overwhelming. We worked our way down for some photos and then Kelsey threw some coins over her shoulder into the water while I almost missed it on video. In the area nearby the crowds were much denser; this was the place to be.
It was only a short wander north to the area of the Spanish Steps, which were closed, partially obscured behind plexiglass and plywood barriers. The far left side was open and we walked up them to see what was up. The view was pretty great. (Bonus: The sun was setting. –KO’) The Medici Palace was on the same level there, so we wandered by it, trying not to stir up the heavily armed soldiers[4] standing in front of it before we headed back down a side street hill. That led us to what the hotel guy said was a great area for shopping. There certainly were many high-end stores and shoppers all over. I really had to pee, and there are almost no public toilets in Rome (I don’t remember any). We had trouble finding our way, and I thought I took us right there, but it turned out we were about 5 blocks off. It was a tense waddle back to the hotel from there.
[4] “Operation Safe Strade” had at least 2 soldiers with large black machine guns deployed in front of nearly every place of note. Their fingers always seemed to be on the triggers of their guns.
We unpacked more and logged onto their wifi. I got an urgent message from my credit card bank and was afraid to log on because I wasn’t sure of my password after several years of only logging on with my laptop and the browser remembering the password, so I tried to change it. Just what I was trying to avoid happened. Unknown to me, it sent me two passwords instead of one, and so the one I had didn’t work and it locked me out of my account. I was furious but tried not to act too mad in the room with Kelsey. The office was closed because it was Sunday so I would need to get that straightened out the next afternoon because I already needed more cash and I didn’t know if my cards were also locked.
The hotel had recommended a restaurant just off the Campo, where I ordered what I thought would be caprese with buffalo mozzarella, but it was just a huge (the size of a typical orange) ball of mozzarella (though good). After I finished it I told Kelsey not to let me order any more buffalo mozzarella the rest of the trip[5]. I also had gnocchi, which I had mistakenly ordered in my rush and was really hot and hard to eat, but it did fill me up. It also brought on another need for an emergent bathroom run. After I got back down to the piazza, we had our first gelato – Italy is great. Sigh.
The highlight of this day for me was the Pantheon, for sure. I couldn’t stop thinking about how cool it was for the rest of the week. Another moment of note: While we ate dinner, there was an elderly Italian woman sitting in the restaurant, making pasta. Passersby would stop to watch. Italy is great. Sigh. –KO’
[5] It was on almost every menu. I did get a pizza that used a much smaller amount on it. It was really good.
01/04:
I took melatonin and fell right to sleep, feeling like I’d slept a long time when I woke up and looked at the clock – it was only 11:40pm. I’d been asleep less than two hours! I was super congested and had to find my afrin, and then I finally fell back to sleep only to wake up again feeling worse around 3am and was never able to get back to sleep. I had looked out the window many times as I wandered back and forth to the bathroom and it wasn’t raining like they had predicted, so I decided to try to run even though I didn’t feel well. I got ready and went out in the dark around 6:30 and IT WAS RAINING HARD, in the low 40s F. I thought I knew where I was going and tried to go to the Tiber River to run along the paths right down by it I’d noticed the day before. The next thing I noticed was coming into an open area: the Piazza Navona! There was no escaping it[6]. I was nowhere near the river. I changed course and arrived at the river’s edge right across from the Castel Sant’ Angelo (again, not where I thought I would be) and took the wet, leaf-covered stairs to the mostly cobblestone and dirt walkway on the same side. I passed under several bridges, once getting barked at by a dog next to a tent, and finally gave up just short of the island in the river (I couldn’t see it in the rain) and went back up to the street hoping to find the Circus Maximus. I looped around an impressive old stone building and got into an alley. I really didn’t know where I was going but thought I might eventually reach the river, but within two minutes I was in the Campo de’ Fiori! I was only at 2.8 miles at that point, so I ran around the area there to get just above 4 miles and went inside. Despite the rain, my sickness and the dark, I was exhilarated.
[6] It is true. You cannot escape going to the Piazza Navona.
My first shower was truly an event. Kelsey was still in bed, so she didn’t know I had the water running in various positions trying to get some hot water to come out for nearly 20 minutes. I settled for a pretty cold quick rinse off. Kelsey didn’t have any warm water at all. We quickly forgot about that at our excellent breakfast upstairs, where our lack of desire for coffee products was met with astonishment. During breakfast, the rain pounded on a tin roof near our table.
We headed out into the rain with a 10am appointment on some steps across from the Vatican Museum. I eschewed an umbrella and the many attempts to sell me one on the walk up. My pants got a little wet, but my wallet and passport were stowed in waterproof bags and my jacket did what expensive goretex is supposed to. We made good time, with a few glances at the dampening map, until we ran into the end of the line for regular admission into the Vatican Museum[7]. We were told it was at least a two hour wait by every tout and guide seller as we kept walking by, finally getting where we needed to and meeting our guide, Francesco, and getting our listening equipment, the ingenious one ear piece radio set through which we could always hear Francesco say, “Okay!” Francesco was the opposite of macho, but he kept us moving except when he had to stop to do presentations with laminated photos he carried in a bag with him. The longest of these presentations was done inside, upstairs, where we shared a space with two other tour groups, both of whom chided Francesco for taking their space[8]. Once we started inside the museum proper, it was a nearly overwhelming sensation of crowds, damp, and beauty of jaw-dropping quality all to the near constant patter of Francesco, always punctuated with an “Okay” or three. (I didn’t really notice this, but then again, for about 40% of the tour, I was too far behind the group/utterly lost, so my radio was just static.–KO’)
[7] Almost every tour in Rome included a promise to “skip the lines.” Only in this instance did it matter.
[8] Official Vatican Tours used video monitors for their talks and needed to be able to sit where they could be seen. We were not official, but something close.
The Map Room is spectacular, with a blazingly gilded ceiling surrounding a patchwork of paintings and sculpture and the walls with various maps of Italy and the vicinity of varying vintages. I could have spent an hour there, but the crowds and Francesco kept us moving into a quieter hall with contemporary art gifted to the papacy (some of it really good) and then into an area where some sat down. Here we were confused by Francesco’s promise of 15 minutes to go to the bathroom which resulted in us all moving immediately up the stairs and into the Sistine Chapel, where we were waved quickly into the center by guards and told every few minutes, loudly, not to use cameras, cell phones, or talk. Plenty of people were talking, including Francesco from his vantage point near the exit, and someone near me farted to odorous effect. (I just assumed it was my uncle. –KO’) Like many art fans, I love Michelangelo and have stared at photos of the Sistine Ceiling for several hours total in my life. It is truly overwhelming to see in person, and it takes a better neck than mine to drink it in well. It was an honor to see it in such great condition even with hundreds of people I didn’t know and whom I also found pretty annoying.
We were herded out and then outside, down steps, past another line and up some steps to the front of St. Peter’s Basilica, the largest church in the world[9]. We could not go through the Jubilee door in the tour; it was for pilgrims only. It is awe-inspiring once inside. I was, as always, drawn to the Michelangelo. This time it was his remarkable Pieta, which I could not get close enough to despite hogging a vantage point right in the front row for a while trying to turn off my flash, which kept ruining the pictures I was taking (I had to get Kelsey to fix it and go back, holding up the whole group). I wish I’d taken more photos and videos in there. It is a blur in my memory otherwise. Francesco zipped us around and then dismissed us with confusing advice about where to go. Kelsey, fascinated by death (I can’t explain it. –KO’), wanted to go in the basement tombs/catacombs. We found the way in and dodged the tour groups to see the tombs of many popes, but no bones or relics. (Much to my dismay. –KO’)
[9] There was a special area in the center that showed the size of all of the biggest churches in the world in comparison. (I’m not surprised I missed this. –KO’)
It was easier to get out this day, but the weather was not good for many exterior photos – good thing we’d been there the day before. Kelsey had read about a “Purgatory Museum” purporting to have evidence of people interacting with the afterlife, but we couldn’t find it (I’m still sad about this. –KO’) while walking past Castel Sant’Angelo, which we chose not to enter. (I watched “Angels & Demons” when I got home to see the inside, instead. –KO’) The rain had at least stopped, so we crossed the bridge I’d run near that morning and wandered around looking for some food (it was now about 1:30). Fate took us by a little hole-in-the-wall place with four small tables and a good special: pasta, a drink and tiramisu for one low price (8euros). I got pasta with pesto and it was like a trip to heaven, where the reward of the tiramisu confirmed my sainthood. (I took a bite of my tiramisu and looked up to say, “This is so good!” only to find that my uncle had already finished his somehow. –KO’) We went to the bathroom and then set out for the other side of the Tiber again.
We found our road into the hills just near the tunnel out of the downtown and Kelsey reluctantly worked her way up it. (It was neverending. –KO’) The views of the city were nice despite the clouds and there were monuments and lighthouses every few hundred meters to keep us interested. As we headed down, there was a nice estate with rust-colored buildings and well-kept grounds that was the Spanish embassy. We went in a small, pretty church, Santa Maria in Trastevere. Trastevere is a very charming neighborhood, and we wanted to come back for sure. We took the pedestrian bridge back across the Tiber and I was surprised to find how easy it was to get from the Campo to that bridge.
I got the desk to help me call my bank and got everything straightened out (I was prepared to fire them, but they did a good job settling me down). I went right out for more money[10]. After working on our plans for the next day, we wandered out for dinner. I cannot remember the restaurant and my journal-keeping penmanship left something to be desired, except I had another pear-based dish before we went to the fantastic Blue Ice gelato place to top off the night. We got a huge amount done despite me not feeling well. It was a great day of overcoming adversity and celebrating human creativity.
I think today was the first time I looked Death in the eyes as I laid in my bed before dinner, while Uncle Terry went out to fix his bank issues. I should’ve brought a FitBit – I was certain we were walking 10 miles/day. My legs throbbed until we got to Venice. I rejoiced anytime we entered a church, did a quick loop to admire the art, and then sat in the pews pretending to pray while I waited for Uncle Terry. It was the only chance I would get to sit all day. Still, #grateful. –KO’
[10] I never expected to spend so much out of pocket money while I was there – about 1200euros, but it was all worth it.
01/05: Tuesday
This was my worst night, which is saying something. I woke up around 1am coughing and congested with a high fever and sweats. I tried my nasal spray and it only helped a little while I tossed and turned for 4 hours. I finally did some more nasal spray and found some ibuprofen around 5am and my fever broke with at least a couple of hours of sleep to follow before I woke up drenched with sweat. After another cold shower and a good breakfast, I was feeling fine. I booked tickets to the Villa Borghese for Wednesday online before we set out again in the rain.
Our first stop was to be the Capuchin Museum, a place of fascination to Kelsey. (You’ll soon understand why. –KO’) I’d found a used copy of Rick Steves book on Rome and she couldn’t put it down. (God Bless Rick Steves. I read nearly all 500 pages of it in 2-3 days. –KO’) This place and the catacombs became her obsessions. It was just off the Piazza Barberini, perhaps a 20 minute walk from the Campo. I thought it was a bit pricey at 8.5euros, but it was well worth it. At first it is very conventional, with displays in Italian and English about the Capuchins, a group I was familiar with through my studies of St. Francis of Assisi. They had their garments on display and discussed the (heated!) fights over subtle details (celibate men! Sigh.), and there were bios with portraits of various saints from the order. The art and relics were quite nice. Then the real interesting part started.
There were guards watching to prevent photos as we walked down a half flight of stairs to see the main feature: art made from bones of the many skeletons buried there. (!!!! –KO’) I would say it was indescribable, but I am going to describe it anyway. To the right as you walked down a path there were separate areas set back with elaborate series of displays of bones. There were femurs in arrays, pelvises in arrays, skulls in arrays, each chamber a bit different, each just as creepily fascinating. (Each chamber had a different theme, like the Thigh Room or the Room of Skulls. The creepiest part was that they had hung skulls wearing Capuchin garments from the walls, so they looked like they were going to jump out at you. However, the absolute worst part was that my uncle kept pointing out the different bones, like it was no big deal. Like, “So this is your collar bone. Oh, and that is your radius.” As if I wasn’t already creeped out enough…–KO’) There were differing stories of how anyone got the idea to do this, but the most palatable one was the Capuchins hid out there in a time of persecution and someone decided to spend the time there arranging the bones because there wasn’t anything better to do. One can only imagine the stench and the many leaps of ideas it would take to arrive at that plan. Others argue that is a sanitized version and the true story is much weirder[11]. Still, it was something I will never find anywhere else, and it was a bit interesting to me, now nearly 30 years removed from anatomy, to see the many different bones.
[11] Saying something!
It was hard to go back out into the rain, but it was not a long walk to the Piazza della Republica, a nice piazza with a covered area of columns similar to St. Peter’s on the western side. We took cover there for part of the walk while we searched for the entrance to the Santa Maria Degli Angeli Church, a massive structure that was quite odd and indistinct on the outside. It was partially designed by an aging Michelangelo (he lived 90 years and worked on this in his mid-80s) to make use of the remnants of the huge Roman baths built there during Diocletian’s reign. Past the nearly concealed entryway, there were several huge segments/naves and a spectacular but plain ceiling (the only remaining part of Michelangelo’s design). The frescoes were really nice, though information on them was scant, and there were several oddities: a large pendulum hung on one side, and on the floor was an area where the sun’s movements were charted for the year where it struck as it came through a window up high. It took us a while to look at it all, including a cartoonishly large organ, and then we moved into the area of the baths that remained. That was not all that interesting except for the information on the building’s history displayed there.
We were off then to the main train station (Roma Termini) to try to get tickets to Naples on our way to Pompeii for Thursday, what was supposed to be the first nice day of the week. At first we were trying to buy tickets from a machine, but it wasn’t giving us good times and a man who looked like he was from India kept coming up and pushing buttons on the screen trying to help. I was mumbling to keep away, but he was persistent until a policeman came up and made a whistling noise and he left us alone. Kelsey said there was a sign there saying not to let anyone try to help you. Instead we got a number from information and waited about 15 minutes to see a clerk who got us just the times we needed, leaving early and getting back late.
We left the area of the station and headed back to the west looking for a place to eat lunch, but while looking came across the Santa Maria Maggiore Church which sits in the center of its own island in the traffic. We decided to go in there first. It was free, but there was a short line to go through metal detectors and there were a few more soldiers and police than normal. After all that, it wasn’t that nice, but pretty enough. We didn’t stay long and turned down a tour of a papal museum in the basement (15euros each, I think).
Across the street was a place advertising a pizza special, so we went there. It was pretty good, though busy. We left there and Kelsey led us past some ruins with the intent of getting to St. Peter in Chains Church, but the path there was blocked by people filming a movie (there were all sorts of trailers along the sidewalks before we got there), so we planned on coming back the day we returned to Rome. From there we walked down the hill and could see the Colosseum for the first time. (I specifically remember asking, “Do you think that’s the Colosseum?” as if one couldn’t be too sure. –KO’) It was a bit of work to get down to the bridge over the highway, which was a good spot for photos, and then we headed over to see it better.
It is a remarkable building I will mention more on the 8th, but we passed it and went near the Arch of Constantine nearby before following the walkway that led past the Forum to the Circus Maximus. The Circus is mostly open for roaming except in one end where they were doing some work. It is long and narrow and would have had very tight turns at each end. We were walking on the edge until Kelsey said, “Let’s go down and walk on the actual track.” (I wanted to pretend we were chariot racing. –KO’) We did, and it was fine pebbles, like walking on an unappealing beach. We made it to the far end and climbed some stairs on our way to see the Aventine Hill area. There didn’t seem much to see, so we took a right onto what looked like a church’s grounds and ended up going back down the other side to a road near the river.
We turned right there and found a line waiting to get into the Santa Maria in Cosmedin Church. We waited a bit in the line until it looked like it was just the line to pose in front of a weird statue with an open mouth. (The Mouth of Truth! –KO’) Kelsey said you were either supposed to lie or tell a secret while posing there (I can’t remember which). (I think it was that you weren’t supposed to lie, or else it would bite off your hand. –KO’) There was another door with no line to the inside. The area we could walk in was very tiny despite the size of the building, and it really was nothing to look at. There was a little chamber below built by Hadrian that had a few interesting things I cannot now recall in it.
We walked down the busy street and up a hill and I saw the old building I’d run by the morning before. It was a theater, the Teatro Marcello, being refurbished, and there were some ruins we could tour around it for free that presented some interesting views (Ottavian’s Temple). From there it was a quick and easy walk the way I had run back to the Campo.
It wasn’t a bad night to walk around, so we crossed back over the river to Trastevere and wandered about a bit until we picked the “Pimm’s Good” restaurant. It looked more like a bar, and we sat way in the back to be away from some loud speakers. The eggplant tart was delicious, as was my risotto. Kelsey thought the place we stopped for gelato on the way back was the #1 rated place by Rick Steves, and, though it was good, the service was not as good as the ones near the Campo. (This was the beginnings of my distrust of Rick Steves. He was like a fallen idol that just kept tumbling down over the course of the next few days. Though, he did redeem himself multiple times. We carried his book around to dinner and to Pompeii, like it was the Bible. –KO’)
01/06: Wednesday
Another rough night, lots of sinus discomfort and again waking up soaked with sweat, but I bounced right back after a warm (finally! I had complained the day before) shower and breakfast (they had good muesli and yogurt). We headed north, consciously trying to avoid the Piazza Navona (success!) (Wait, I actually vaguely remember not managing to avoid the Piazza Navona, even though we had tried. –KO’) and towards the Ara Pacis, which was a modern art gallery with a Toulouse Lautrec show we did not enter. One place we wanted to see was the Mausoleo Augusto (The tomb of Augustus), but it was closed. (True to my character, I was very upset about this. –KO’) We persevered north to the Piazza del Popolo which was a large, pretty piazza. It started to get sunny as we wandered there, hearing what sounded like a party from the hills overlooking it. We killed a little time, then went into the just opened for the day Leonardo da Vinci Museum there. It was very interesting: modern artisans and craftsman had used Leonardo’s sketches to create wooden replicas of various machines he had designed. They seemed to do what he intended. There were also displays about his famous paintings. (I sat by myself in a dark corner watching a short movie on The Last Supper, just to give my legs a break. –KO’) We walked up the hill to where the music was, and it turned out to be a road race that started while we walked around (the 6th is a holiday there). (Their pump-up song choices were interesting…one was Michael Bublé singing the Spiderman Theme Song. –KO’) I was happy, as there were a few portapotties within reach of my full bladder. We were now on the edge of the large park that also contained the Villa Borghese, where we needed to be by 1pm. The views were really nice and the park pretty. We found the way up a hill to the stunning Templo di Esculapio, which was perfectly lit by the now bright sunlight as it sat on one side of a pond. We took a lot of photos there (All worthy of becoming desktop backgrounds. -KO’), then headed down the other side of the hill and found the road to the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna, which was a very large, pretty building we did not enter. We strolled a bit past it, but there didn’t seem much else to see, so we turned around (After giving directions to multiple people, somehow. –KO’) and headed to where we thought a cafeteria was to eat lunch. There was a food truck we stopped at instead, getting a tomato, basil and cheese panini each and a drink, and we ate as we walked past the zoo (not free, so didn’t go in) to the Villa Borghese/Borghese Gallery.
We arrived first at the adjacent gardens, which were nice in the sun despite the winter, and there were lots of cute dogs running around. The gallery itself is a bit frosty in its customer service; we got to see a young man argue with the ticket clerks while waiting in line. There were timed entries and the line was long for the 1pm. I went to the bathroom while Kelsey held our place, but it took her so long to do the same (I swear the line to the bathroom didn’t move for the first five minutes. I befriended a nice woman in line and we talked about Bernini. –KO’) I had to get out of line to wait for her at the entrance.
I was a bit skeptical of the whole thing, but it was really nice. The art, especially the statues, was beautiful and well displayed, and the ceilings were stunning. Caravaggio and Bernini dominated to excellent effect. It is highly recommended.
We exited full of good thoughts only to have it start raining again. The walk back took us through a different part of the commercial area we’d been in Sunday and we were able to get into St. Louis Church as it opened for its late afternoon session (it had been closed when we’d gone by in the morning). It also had beautiful Caravaggios as its claim to fame in addition to its French origin. From there we got to our main street at the Area Sacra, a really neat area of ruins right in the downtown that had only been discovered 100 years ago. Among other things it contained the spot where Caesar was killed. It showed how much things had changed – it was 15 feet below the rest of the neighborhood. (Instead of destroying things, Rome just built on top of them. –KO’) It was also full of cats; they were cared for strays and we were not to feed them. We saw a restaurant in a nearby alley that was Sicilian, so we went back there to eat in the rain. We were the only people there. I felt bad for them. The food was great; I got excellent appetizers, then a pasta dish with sardines in a red sauce that was hearty and delicious as well as swordfish rolls with blood oranges that topped everything off well. (My meal came with a crayfish, which my uncle had to remove from my plate, because it was staring at me. –KO’) Still there was room for gelato at Mamma Mias right next to our hotel, where they give you great chocolates with every order.
01/07: Thursday
Today was Pompeii Day. I finally got some sleep, and I was excited to head out too early to fit in a run. A cab picked us up at the hotel before 7am and got us to the station in plenty of time. We got a light breakfast for the journey and had nice seats on the train. It was very foggy, so the views weren’t great, but the train was really fast and smooth during the roughly 90 minute trip. (We took turns reading Rick Steves’ section on Pompeii to pass the time. –KO’)
At Naples we tried to find the bathrooms, and fortunately there was someone there to explain we needed to pay 1euro to go in. Nothing was obvious there, but we got what we needed done (it took me 5 minutes to figure out how to get my hands washed) and found the commuter train to Pompeii easily. The guide books made it sound like it would be like the New York subways in the 1970s, full of danger and pickpockets, but it was fine. I was probably the scariest person on the train.
It took a while, as there were a lot of stops, but we got to the proper station and the Pompeii entrance was only a short walk and short line away. The sun was out and it was around 10am, a beautiful day to see some ancient ruins. It was 13euros to enter and 2euros for a map Kelsey didn’t want to get, but it was the bargain of the trip and Kelsey carried it like a security blanket the whole day.
Despite having seen lots of ruins already, I LOVED Pompeii. It was so nice: the weather great, lots of neat angles and viewpoints, especially of Mt. Vesuvius (Kelsey had a crush on it), history oozing out of everything, and a good bit of exercise walking around. We did that for 5 hours, eating a light lunch at their nice little café for a short break around 1pm, before heading back to Naples. (Catching a beautiful view of the sea and Capri on the way! –KO’) I thought we might tour it some, but the map we had was useless and the streets crowded and unforgiving. We wanted to get some famous Naples pizza, reputed to be Italy’s best (Rick Steves!)(Strike #2. –KO’), but we couldn’t find the best-known places and others weren’t serving pizza. (Italians eat very late and it was only 5:30. –KO’) We lucked into a place just as Kelsey was getting a bit frustrated. (I was two seconds from completely breaking down on the streets of Naples. –KO’) It was perfect: outside with a heater and great pizza that was very cheap. We were killing time in the station when we heard a piano playing a delightful song. There was a gender-neutral person who knew his/her[12] way around the keyboard playing requests, including a song an old man sang. It was a nice way to remember a city worth more time. We got back to Rome around 8:30 and caught a cab back to the Area Sacra and walked back to the hotel from there, getting gelato on the way (of course). It was our longest day and epic in every way.
I didn’t know it was possible to be in love with a volcano, but Mt. Vesuvius will forever be #1 in my heart. –KO’
[12] I’m pretty sure it was a woman. She most resembled Robin Roberts, with a beatific smile.
01/09: Friday
I used afrin again and had some congestion issues but seemed to be getting over the worst of my illness and got some sleep. I arose at 6am full of the lust to run and explore. It was not raining, and I did just what I wanted: a run through the alleys to the theater area and then around the Circus Maximus, Colosseum, Forum, and back across the river at the island, topping it off with more running along the river on the other side. 5.25 miles.
We left for our Colosseum tour at 9am. We took Michelangelo’s famous stairs, designed to slope gradually and allow for horses to climb them, to the Campodoglio, and from there viewed the various Forums from its scenic overlooks, including taking some photos of a seagull that landed right in front of me and posed quite well. We tried to go down a steep walkway and were trapped by a wall we had to climb and jump off to get back to a road down, stopping occasionally at various viewpoints to admire and photograph the ruins in the early sunlight. As we were walking that morning I’d taken note of a woman walking in front of us with a particularly energetic gait propelled by particularly magnificent legs and buttocks. I even mentioned it to Kelsey, I was so enthralled by her machinations.
We were right on time for the Colosseum tour at the designated meeting point, and we found our guide, a petite and bespectacled cutie with Rachele as one of her names. She introduced us to the other three people in our group, one who was the woman with the nice legs and butt (she was wearing only leggings). She was not that pretty otherwise (she might have cleaned up well with some make up and a better haircut) but she was nice to talk to, from Ireland on her last day of touring Italy.
I joked as we approached the entrance, devoid of anyone, that our “skip the lines” tour was not necessary, but it was nice it wasn’t super crowded and Rachele and her trainee guide were interesting and charming. The Colosseum is something I could explore for days, but our overview was fascinating, and it was a nice enough day that great photos were easy to come by. We learned of the recent refurbishment, the types of stone, the ingenious way it was built in identical segments done over and over, and how it all worked at the time. The Romans were certainly an enterprising and inventive bunch, especially when it came to mindless and horrifyingly wasteful entertainment (it is alleged that one staged hunt killed 420 leopards!!). (There was even a specific exit for dead bodies to be carried out. –KO’)
We exited and scoped out the Arch of Constantine nearby, interesting mostly as an example of Roman recycling, as it had re-used statues from other monuments on it. We ambled to the Forum entrance and walked on a scenic path into the largest area of cleared ruins, a fascinating mix of the practical, the egotistical, and the symbolic. Everything was built on layers upon layers, and some of the area had only been found while planning the foundations for huge churches that remained on top of various temples that had been obscured by debris and detritus. (Don’t forget that Caesar was allegedly cremated here where Mark Antony gave his famous speech! –KO’) We finished by going up a long set of stairs to the Campodoglio, where Rachele showed us a restroom we could use inside a museum and then left us to our own devices.
Now for our most ambitious effort of the trip: a walk to the Appian Way, or the Appia Antica, the oldest and most famous Roman highway, which was preserved in a sense south of the city. Along it were some catacombs, and the death-obsessed (but not, like, in a weird way –KO’) Kelsey was fired up to see at least one set of catacombs.
We passed the Circus Maximus and, with a few false starts, found the correct road, which to my great pleasure ran next to a park with outdoor gym equipment on it, including pull up bars. I told Kelsey it was as important to me to have her videotape me doing pull ups on the way back as it was for her to see the catacombs.
We were lucky at a confusing point to have a couple walk up who were looking for the same place, and we worked with them to figure it all out correctly. It was not a bad walk; even the part along the narrow road with some traffic was nice. It widened out to a regular paved road about the time we exited to go to the St. Callistus Catacombs, which were a good ways further along their own road. (I cannot emphasize enough how far we walked to get there. We passed through the remains of Rome’s southern-most city walls and still had to walk at least another twenty minutes to get to the catacombs. It was totally worth it, though. –KO’) At times it was warm enough to get down to short sleeves.
We finally got there and had to wait a bit for the guides to return from their current tours. We got a pretty serious female guide who provided just the right amount of gravity and information in a setting like this. It was, after all, a sacred place to many and the site of burial of thousands, most of whose skeletons had long since been relocated. (Unfortunately. –KO’) It was illegal at that time (from around 200 CE through 600 CE) to bury anyone inside the city of Rome, so the Christians who lived in the area made good use of the easily chiseled and carved rock below the topsoil to carve out over 12 miles (!!!) of tunnels at various levels and make small tombs for the dead in them. The bodies were sealed as best possible, usually with some lime thrown on them to keep the smell and the decay down. Throughout, there were scattered small chapels where services could be held. The first chamber we entered contained the tombs of several early bishops, some of them martyrs. There was a statue in the alleged former tomb of St. Cecilia, a young woman who was betrothed to a man with whom she never consummated her marriage and who was martyred with her about the same time. It is claimed three attempts to behead her left her with only some neck wounds, from which she slowly died three days later. When her tomb was discovered in the 1500s, it was reported she was uncorrupted and fresh as a daisy there, posed with her hand making a sacred gesture. Her remains were removed and placed in a church named after her in Trastevere (I don’t think we found that one)(We didn’t. –KO’), and a marble statue was in the tomb here in the pose in which she was found. Many experts think this story is bogus. All in all, it was a highlight of our time in Italy, handled with just the right attitude by everyone involved.
The way back went quickly (for one of us –KO’) and soon we were at the park and the pull up bars. To my disbelief, there was a man doing chin ups there. We spoke briefly as I took off my coat and got the camera ready for Kelsey. I did 11 good pull ups, slow enough not to hurt myself since it had been a long time since I’d done any, and then I did another 6 after a brief rest. The Italian was impressed.
We went over the bridge onto the island on the way back so Kelsey could see that. There were men rappelling down a wall on one side of the bridge to work on the lights, and one of them walked up behind us with his safety harness making so much noise I thought he was a horse. (I am still laughing about this. –KO’) It was another strong finish to a good adventure.
It was our last night in Rome before leaving for Venice, so we walked up to the piazza at the Pantheon, Kelsey’s favorite building, to eat dinner. (This was my favorite meal: amazing Spaghetti Carbonara. –KO’) We got a table with a great view of the Pantheon, which also included, for Kelsey, a view of a roasted pig’s head in a nearby store (with which my uncle tried to take a selfie –KO’), and, for me, a super-model quality beauty to stare at while I ate[13]. After we finished, I was trying to take a picture of Kelsey in front of the Pantheon when I felt something touching my legs. By the time I looked down, there was nothing there. Kelsey said a clown came up and grabbed my leg and then walked away frowning. And rightly so. (It was the strangest thing. I didn’t even know how to react. –KO’)
We took a better look at the pig next door, which turned out to be two pigs’ heads and a few sections of their torsos. Many people had taken selfies and photos of the pigs while we were eating. Our last gelato before leaving Rome followed.
[13] She was sitting by herself for a long time until a bald and bearded slim guy, who was not even close to as good-looking as I am, dined with her. I don’t think it was her brother, so it gave me hope….
01/09: Saturday
I slept better but still needed some decongestants to get through the night. My goal was to run in the park of the Villa Borghese via the Spanish Steps (now completely closed!), and after a few wrong turns, including one into the long hallway to a metro station, I arrived at the area where the road race start had been. I had a pleasant run around the park, again making wrong turns in the early light, before trying a different way back. That, of course, went poorly, and instead of our hotel I ended up at the Mausoleum for Augustus again, but once oriented there I made my way back. It measured out over 6 miles but I’d stopped my watch and forgot to restart it several times, so it was more than that.
We checked out and went to the first hotel to catch a cab again. They said it would be 3 minutes, but 15 minutes later I had the desk clerk check again, and he finally figured out there was an accident nearby tying up traffic. I was getting nervous, but he finally turned up with only a few minutes to spare and got us there just in time to rush to the train and get our seats and a few deep breaths before it pulled out of the station. It was the only tense moment of the entire trip.
I’d brought a portable Scrabble game given to me one of the times I’d departed from Swaziland, but instead Kelsey got out playing cards and we played Gin for about 90 minutes. It was a really nice train ride, but we could see the weather getting worse as we went north. It was raining when we arrived in Venice.
I thought it best to talk someone and get a map before we tried to get to our hotel, which was otherwise right next to one of the major landmarks in Venice, the Rialto Bridge. She gave me a map and drew a walking route on it and also told us we could get a water taxi, either boat 1 or 2 out front. I needed much more information than that about the water taxi, as it turned out, but after standing in a few wrong lines, we got tickets and got on a boat, but no one ever looked at the tickets or did anything with them, so we kept them handy. It was only a few stops to the Rialto Bridge and the boat was minimally crowded, so pleasant enough for 7.5 euros. The Hotel Rialto was about 40 feet from the dock, so we were inside quickly and out of the rain and chill[14].
[14] Venice seemed to be about 10-12 degrees F colder than Rome.
The desk clerks were fantastically helpful and our room nice, with two beds, though it looked like it was a museum. It was a more reasonable temperature as well. Instead of wandering around for lunch we ate at the place next door, which was likely a mistake – not very good pizza and a fairly long wait. From there we walked to the most known spot in Venice, the Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark’s Square, stopping briefly to tour a church along the way that was really cold inside (San Salvatore). We went inside the Cathedral quickly after a brief wait in the rain, and there was a service, so we could see very little and no photos were allowed. It has beautiful mosaics all over, but the overall mood was one of duty rather than inspiration, and we were back outside.
Kelsey was cold so we started walking fast along the waterfront, taking a few turns she thought would take us places and we eventually ended up back at St. Marks. From there we took a roundabout tour back to the hotel.
After drying out and warming up, we went out to eat. We scanned a number of menus but didn’t settle. On a side alley not far from the hotel we saw a place and took another look at the menu. I had enough time to see it was a bit cheaper than what we’d seen so far before a large, friendly man came out and convinced us to go in with the usual patter of “everything home made and fresh.” There was only one other person there, and he seemed to be a fixture, so we were the only customers at a place yet again.
We enjoyed the quiet for a while until it started to fill up, and, while the service was a bit slow, the food was again terrific: Genovese Pesto for me, best I’ve ever had. I found a store to get some snacking chocolates and then Kelsey took us on a true wander about. I don’t think she knew where she was going at all, but she thought she did, and we finally stopped to get our bearings when we were nearly to the next canal over and practically opposite where we thought we were. This was no big deal except we had not gotten our gelato for the night, and we commenced a desperate search for any sort of gelato. Well lost again, we turned up at St. Marks and found a really nice place with excellent gelato still open. Aaaaaahhhhh.
01/10: Sunday
Yet another frustrating night, with a tickle cough keeping me up, going to the bathroom and back, for about an hour. Somehow Kelsey didn’t wake up. (I am a rock. –KO’) It was an adjustment to go to such a small bed, but I managed ok otherwise.
I got up at 6:30 and ran back to San Marco and got on the same waterfront we’d walked the night before. I took it much farther and noted a nice, wide open area with a long straightaway after a little over a mile. Speedwork! I could do sprints there! I found an uncrowded area and did my usual drills and then went back there to do a number of long sprints on the smooth stone pavement, witnessed only occasionally by a dog walker and a few old people. I did some other exercises in a park there and hurt my right hip, which was the only downside.
Breakfast at the Hotel Rialto was more crowded but a bit better (lots of fruit), and then we headed out to find a church not far from the hotel that listed an English Mass at 10:30. We got there and Kelsey left to go out on her own while I went inside. (I’ll describe my adventures below. –KO’) There was a priest and a few people, but they all walked out and someone turned out some of the lights. That wasn’t very promising. I waited long enough to be sure nothing was going to happen, then started praying a Rosary. A pretty girl came in and sat right in the front. She looked American, and soon she started looking around. Finally someone came and spoke to her and seemed to give her directions, and she left just a bit before I finished. I assume they told her when there was a Mass nearby.
Now I was free, so I went on a stroll. It was immediately apparent that something was going on: some of the walkways had several inches of water on them. Venice was flooding! I’d read about it and seen video, but I had to see if for myself. I made my way to St. Marks yet again, which was under about a foot of water, and got on platforms they had put out that morning for people to walk on. I walked all over on the platforms and took a lot of pictures and some video.
On my way back, I stopped in a store I’d seen the day before called “Auckland, New Zealand.” Having lived in New Zealand, I hoped they might have some nice merino wool clothes, but it was not what I thought it was. The shop was owned by some Dutch retailers who’d gone to Auckland on a holiday and loved it, so they started a clothing line with the name, but nothing was even from New Zealand! I was glad they had nothing in my size so I could leave without any of that crap. I did email some of my friends in New Zealand about it. The flooding was pretty bad by the time I got back to the hotel, with the water right up to the door. I sat inside and waited a short time for Kelsey to return. She was flushed with excitement after a wander about on her own. There is no place better for wandering than Venice.
Our first stop was the Academy Museum, near where we’d finally turned around in the dark the night before. It took a while to get there and we toured a few pretty churches on the way. It was pricey, so I got Kelsey an audioguide, which was a good idea as it was not always well labeled and I could use it when needed. It started with lots of old mosaics and altarpieces, but eventually we got to the Titians, Tintorettos, and especially the Veroneses. We went through every room and saw everything they had, though a lot was missing.
A quick wander about found a “bruscheterria” where they made pizza out of bread, so we went in there. It was packed, with many Americans, but it was good and we got out quick. We walked by the Peggy Guggenheim Museum, which has a good contemporary art collection, but it was expensive and we wanted to stay in old art mode. We strolled to the very tip of that portion of Venice and took in the cloudy views of St. Marks and the rest of the city. We walked a roundabout way to San Sebastiano Church, which was closed, as was a nearby church. We kept our wandering up until getting back at the hotel around 4:40pm.
After a rest, we went out for dinner over the Rialto Bridge. We were again talked into a quiet, small place with good prices, but it turned out they hit us with both a seating fee and a service charge. I don’t remember what I got, but it was good. Kelsey had looked up the best gelato in Venice and thought she knew where it was. We set off in the direction we’d gone to find the Mass that wasn’t, and again the route disappointed. After 5 or 6 dead ends, she finally threw in the towel, and we ended up back at St. Marks at the gelato place from the night before, which was fine with me.
It was love at second sight for me, when it came to Venice (as the night before was dark and rainy and I couldn’t fully appreciate its beauty.) Anyway, I spent my hour alone on the other side of the Grand Canal. I visited quite a few shops and even made my first foreign purchase (a cute papier mache Pinocchio mask for my little brother.) I took a lot of pictures and covered a lot of ground, even though I was walking pretty slowly to take it all in. Venice wasn’t very big. In fact, most people seemed to know each other. I also watched an old woman fight off a pigeon that was trying to eat her sandwich right out of her hands, which was awesome. –KO’)
01/11: Monday
I’d been studying the map and plotted an attempt to run on the waterfront on the other side, and the run initially went well despite a steady rain, but then boat after boat was disgorging workers and school children: I was in the Venice rush hour traffic! I pressed on, seeking the alleys less taken, and had an enjoyable and disconcerting run, ending up nowhere near where I thought I would, but never really lost. It was at least 5 miles, but I was again screwing up the timing.
We wanted to take a free boat ride to the Murano Glass Works. Our launch was complicated by the high waters, but one of the hotel’s staff took us out a back way and we eventually got into the boat from one of the water taxi docks, which we had to rush onto after all the passengers got off the taxi and before they shut the gates. It was still raining lightly as the boat took off up the Grand Canal. It turned to go out to the harbor and suddenly the driver slowed the engine, jumped up and flipped the windshield and everything down and ducked as the boat just barely made it under one of the bridges because the water was so high! I got video of the next time we went under a bridge but it wasn’t as close. We were out in open water soon and it wasn’t long until we docked at the Glass Works, a famous tourist stop. A distinguished elderly man met us at the docks and guided us in to a glass blowing exhibition that was ongoing. He took every opportunity to explain the glass production and materials as the glass blower did his thing, going back and forth to the furnace, and then one of the other elderly men there said it would be about a minute we would want to video, so I did a video while the man deftly made a lovely standing horse out of the red blob in roughly a minute. He then made a vase which was nice, and someone put a piece of paper in it which immediately caught fire to show how hot the glass still was.
It was about this time when I realized what was going on, as the nice old man took Kelsey and me on a tour of the store, with one absolutely beautiful and often mind-blowing piece of glass artwork after another, all ridiculously expensive, talking about shipping and payments, etc. I would love to be able to look at those things all the time (especially the fake aquariums full of glass fish), but there was no way I was spending that much money ($5-6000) for one. It was never too uncomfortable, and he eventually got the message and gave us directions and walked us to the regular store to look around at things priced under $100.
We found the boat dock to go back but the signs said only one dock was open on our side because of the high water. We waited for that certain boat to come and our taxi tickets from the other day worked so we got on, though everyone else seemed to walk around the ticket device and just get on. It was a long ride back (It was cool to see Venice from the water, though. I also appreciated the sitting. –KO’), with many stops as the other docks were now opening as the water levels dropped. We got off near St. Marks. We ate at a little lunch place nearby where there was a store full of pigeons (they kept startling passersby) that was fun to watch while I ate my focaccia. I spent $5 for a 6 ounce bottle of ginger ale there[15].
[15] The food was not cheap in general, but they really killed you on the drinks, as water was not free (usually 3euros for a litre bottle) and everything else was at least 4euros, even a can of soda.
We went into the Doges Palace/Palace Ducale then for a tour. It started slow with a special exhibit on maps, but then we went upstairs to the real museum, which was even more spectacular than I remembered. One Titian after another and so many beautiful Veroneses, as well as Tintorettos, all over the ceilings, which were stunning. There was a huge room, the size of a gym, with one massive wall painting after another and the ceilings full of even more beautiful works; I told Kelsey they should take you around on a stretcher so it was easier to look at the ceilings. It was really too much to take in – you should plan to do it twice if you visit.
That wasn’t all! The palace also included a prison, which was reached by the Bridge of Sighs, where Kelsey made a video of us sighing. The prison wasn’t that interesting otherwise, but there were some different exhibits that kept us there while Kelsey’s bladder was trying to burst. (Nevertheless, I was still fascinated by the prison. I swear I’m not a dark person. –KO’)
On exiting the underground prisons and the buildings, the first thing we noticed was the sun was trying to come out for the first time while we were there! (I skipped around the square in excitement! –KO’) We went to the other museum on the property which was nice but nothing compared to the Doges Palace.
It was about 4pm, our last afternoon in Venice, so we went souvenir shopping. I got a 1 euro refrigerator magnet that looked like the direction signs to the Rialto Bridge and San Marco while Kelsey wandered more, trying to decide what to get her family. She got done and we got back to the hotel around 6pm.
We (well, Kelsey) decided to have another go at #1 Gelato, so we tried to find it first before picking a restaurant. Her hopes were again dashed, but we found a gelato place and then a restaurant called “Marco Polo,” Venice’s most famous citizen to people with their eyes closed in a pool, and we ate there as it had no cover charge. It also had more unusual things on the menu. I got whipped cod on polenta cakes for an appetizer (I don’t like to buy cod, as it is overfished, but it was really good), and then black squid oil pasta, which came out black, with chunks of squid, and was really interesting.
We settled then for an ordinary, unranked gelato place near the hotel and made it special by taking our gelato to the scenic balcony of the hotel, which had a nice view of the Grand Canal (and a no food policy). It was chilly but very pretty and I took several awesome selfies. (I should note that, at this point in the trip, my uncle’s selfie-taking was out of control. I started taking selfies of how annoyed I was with his selfie-taking. Also, I am still mad that we never found that gelato place. Venice was impossible to navigate. –KO’)
01/12: Tuesday
After a good night’s sleep (for me), I was up at 5:45am to run. I did a similar run to my speedwork day without any speedwork, running as far down that area as I could. I was really peaceful after all the people the day before, and I did about 4.6 miles. It was a gloriously beautiful morning, so after breakfast we took a quick spin around for last minute souvenirs: Kelsey wanted me to get a gondolier shirt. We couldn’t find one, and I vaguely recalled them being something you earned after training, so I bought a cheap polo shirt with the blue and white striped design on it instead.
We decided to save some money and see more of the city by walking to the train station. After we got away from the hotel and found some of the places I’d run the day before, we got to wider avenues where I’d stayed the other time I’d been in Venice. This part of the city was cheaper but farther from the good spots. It was certainly more wide open, and we got to the station so fast I let Kelsey have a wander around that part, hoping she would enjoy the view from the tall bridge there. (I actually spent this time looking at purses in a nearby shop. –KO’)
Before we got on the train, we found a crowded bistro and got some food. It got us all excited for the train ride to have something to eat. The train back to Florence was nice; Kelsey made a fuss about waving to a confused railroad worker as we left the main station area. (I was doing my best royal wave, like I was the Queen of Venice. I was trying to have a dramatic exit. –KO’) We only read this voyage; no more cards.
Florence was WAY more crowded than I’d remembered, and the weather was even more perfect than Venice. We got out of the station and found our hotel not too far away without much problem. We didn’t have much time, as we had an appointment at the Accademia Museum at 3pm. After finding our room (nice, 2 beds with more room between them), we were back out on the busy and chaotic streets, much like Naples. Kelsey had a map and guided us all the way around the building to the entrance. We were quickly in ahead of schedule and it wasn’t crowded at all.
It starts out with some early Renaissance works, mostly altar pieces (sound familiar?), and those mostly of the Madonna and Child variety. (Sometimes, I close my eyes and still see the Madonna and Child. There are far too many in existence. –KO’) I’d gotten about halfway through the first room when I lost patience and went over to Kelsey.
“I can’t even focus on anything else now that David is in here. Is it close?”
She said, “I think it is right around this corner. Let’s just go.”
Together, we entered the big hallway, and at the far end, glowing in the external and internal lighting as if lit by God, was the most impressive sculpture in history! And hardly anyone was around it (It had been a 90 minute wait to see it the last time I was in Florence, so I passed)! Until you have seen it up close, you cannot understand how it makes you feel. It is much bigger than you can imagine, and the feeling of the polished marble reflecting the light and the relaxed yet powerful pose is overwhelming. I cannot tell you how many photos and videos and selfies we took, but even then we stopped by there three or four more times during the visit.
The rest of the museum was nice and there was an extra exhibit on Carlo Portelli, someone I was not familiar with. He painted large religious murals with color and action that were very nice. We didn’t last much longer after that; if we didn’t see anything else in Florence, it had been worth the journey.
But we kept going. We went back past the Duomo, which we’d passed on the way over, then past the Palazzo Vecchio, the Uffizi Gallery, and over the Arno River via the famous Ponte Vecchio (and its many watch stores. Sigh.) We kept on going up past the Pitti Palace, then up and back across the river to the fashion district, with its many designer label stores, during which time the sun set and a lovely darkness descended. A restaurant finally seemed suitable, again with hardly anyone in it, and I confused the waiter by ordering two main courses (Florentine crepes with cheese and spinach and then gnocchi again with sheep cheese and eggplant). (I got Ravioli with Truffle Oil and it was delicious. –KO’)
We wanted to get our gelato from a really impressive looking place on the other side of the Ponte Vecchio, but Kelsey had us going all over. We huddled up and I tried to trust her, and she took us pretty much the way I thought we needed to go to get back to the bridge. It was gorgeous at night, and the jewelers were putting away their temptations as we crossed. The place still looked great, with its gelato piled in alpine shapes in the metal wells, begging for huge portions. I couldn’t find the prices, but asked which container I could get three flavors in. It was a decent-sized one, and Kelsey got the smaller one (Thank goodness, since it weighed as much as a brick. So much gelato! –KO’). She rang up the price and told us it was 18 euros. I was stunned; that was over twice what we’d paid anywhere else, and I finally saw the signs: my bowl alone was 10euros, over $11, the most I’d ever spent for ice cream in my life! I did enjoy it, as it was good, and Kelsey seemed to think she’d found a review later that ranked it the best in Italy, I think just to make me feel better.
The big bowl of gelato gave me something to do as we continued our stroll, back towards the vicinity of the Accademia. The crowds were huge, and there was a lot going on, with live music and light shows all over. As we were walking back, I was getting annoyed at the tendency of people to bang into me and finally nearly lost it when a guy hit me really hard in the back of my hand with his huge ring as he walked into me. I muttered a classic Terry putdown I am sure he did not hear, but I was ready to take him down, an attitude I rarely have. The country of hot tempers.
01/13: Wednesday
This was our only full day in Florence and Kelsey was fired up to make the most of it. I was still up way before her to go running. I had stared at the map endlessly the night before trying to sort out the best way to run to the Piazzale Michelangelo, the #1 tourist attraction in Florence according to Trip Advisor. The Wrights and I had walked there in 1996[16], and I didn’t think it was far. I chose what seemed to be the correct road and was surprised how much traffic was on it at that hour and how dangerous it was, so I took a right up a hill that had a sign pointing to the Piazzale Michelangelo on it, but that was the last sign I saw, and it was very dark. I started up a very long flight of stone stairs, tripping once and getting tangled in vines on the side before I got to the top. I couldn’t tell where I was so I went up another set of stairs and found myself at a church-like building. From there I tried each road for at least a minute, finally giving up and taking the stairs down to the next level. I didn’t feel like going back down the long flight of stairs again, so I turned right onto the road there and in about 50 feet I was in the Piazzale Michelangelo!
[16] I think. I remember a very scenic view from that side of river that took us a while to get to.
There were already people there; some seemed to be camping out. The statue there is a bronze of the David, and the views were memorable, even though most of the city was dark. I headed down the ramp in the front and found paths that took me quickly back to the main road along the river – that would have been a much easier and quicker way, so at least I knew the best way to get there later with Kelsey. I felt like I was not going to run far enough, so I went down the river a ways and then back up, realizing then it was much farther back to the hotel than I thought. I picked up the pace through the wakening city, still fortunately free of most pedestrians and about 80% less cars. It was 5.6 miles with a few mistakes again.
I don’t know what it was like for Kelsey to be waking up to my hyper-elated self every morning. (I was dead inside from all of the walking, so I barely noticed. –KO’) I tried to keep a lid on it but the steam was always whistling out a little. We ate quickly and fired out the door, determined to do as much in one day as was possible in Florence in January.
We were delayed a bit in our mission to see some of the Duomo before going to our scheduled entry in the Uffizi at 10am. The schedule said the climb to the top of the Dome, the Cupola, opened at 8:30, but we couldn’t find where to get in. We walked all the way around and back part way until we found out the ticket window was nowhere near the entrance[17]. We paid there, showed the tickets to an old man inside and started up the stairs, most of which were a never-ending spiral. We finally came out at the lower level of the dome and could see the inside, painted some by Vasari and then by others to his design. The view below was blocked by a suicide prevention wall of cloudy plexiglass. (I should note that at this point, I had already sweated through my shirt, less than an hour after showering. –KO’) We then entered another set of narrow stairs, followed by more, with a finally straight run up very steep steps to the cupola. It was a beautiful day, a spectacular view. (Bonus: The sun was rising. –KO’) Many photos were taken, including more of my famous selfies. I was getting the willies, as it was quite high and the iron fence didn’t look stable, but I got used to it.
[17] This was to be one of the themes of our day.
The climb down didn’t take long at all. It was only 9:15 despite all the delays, so we went to the Uffizi Gallery to see if we could get in early. Again, it was hard to find the entrance (say what you want about America, but we know where to put and how to mark entrances!), but we went right in, no problem. The layout seems to encourage you to look at lesser works, and it took us a long time to get to the real treasures like Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” and the most beautiful painting, Michelangelo’s “Holy Family” tondo, with Mary dressed in bright colors and several small male nudes curiously posed in the background, perhaps just finishing up at the Egyptian Baths[18]. It also had DaVinci’s “Annunciation” held until near the end. It is a lot to take in and a lot of walking, but very, very satisfying.
[18] If this isn’t the best joke about a religious painting, tell me a better one.
We walked out at 11:30 and it was even more glorious outside. Next was to return (for me) to the Piazzale Michelangelo. I thought it was a lovely walk, but Kelsey was tired, and she grumbled (my stomach was also grumbling –KO’) and second-guessed my route until we were there. Now it was hopping up there, with the lot nearly full and the sun completely free of clouds. Florence radiated red-roofed love, and the David was nearly as nice as the marble one, though green with tarnish. There wasn’t much to do there but gawk (I think I actually sat on a bench the entire time we were there –KO’), so we headed back down and stayed on the side streets on our way to the Pitti Palace.
We were hungry and needed some lunch and fluids, and as we made a turn there was another hole in the wall place with only three tables and one occupant other than the flamboyant but moody server. He seemed a bit reluctant to ready our pizzas, but they were good and we were enjoying them (and four cannolis) when a cheerful older man came in and the young guy left. The old man made pleasant small talk and sent us off happy with our stop. He was clearly the owner and the other guy had just been minding the store for him.
Reenergized (I felt like a completely different person after those cannolis –KO’), we walked a short distance to the Pitti Palace, another home of the Medicis. Again, the ticket window was several hundred yards from the entrance, and they seemed to either want us to do the garden tour or the inside, but not both. It was too nice to be inside, but it was also winter, so the gardens would not be that great. I decided on the gardens, and we walked a long way around them. We were occasionally rewarded with a nice view, but we also had to put up with a woman with two loud children, one of whom consistently walked about 50 feet behind her. We finally shook them and had a more peaceful second half.
We headed to the Brancacci Chapel, which held nice frescoes by one of my favorites, Massacio. On the way we had to work our way around a group of paparazzi who had a small restaurant staked out. It was 6euros (at the ticket office as far away from the entrance as possible) to get in the Brancacci, and we walked down a short hallway to find a small chapel that was mostly roped off. There were two walls of frescoes there which were nice, but no explanation. Those were the Massacios, I found out when we left there, unable to return, but watched a movie about the place next door. I think we spent only 5 minutes there otherwise.
We had our sights set on Santa Croce next, which was all the way on the other end of town on the other side of the river. It was a long walk (you can imagine how I felt about it –KO’) on the narrow sidewalks with people going both ways, but the weather was holding well. It was a beautiful church, with tombs of Dante, Michelangelo, Galileo and Macchiavelli, some fading Giotto frescoes and a flood-damaged crucifix by Cimabue that was a proud symbol of the city, but I was distracted and thought it also held the cloisters where Fra Angelico had painted frescoes in the monks’ cells. I made us look at every inch, some of which wasn’t worth it when we were short of time.
The day was fading and we still had a lot to do. We headed back across town, but we again lost time when we walked right by the entrance to the Duomo Museum Kelsey was looking for and wandered around a while until we got directions. We went into the main basilica for a quick look around on our way back over there. The museum was worth it, as there were a few nice things, including two of the bronze doors from the Baptistry, which was under some construction and we saved for last, getting all the benefits from our early morning tickets. The Baptistry was spectacular, with the iconic crouching Jesus mosaic[19] on the ceiling.
[19] The name I made up. It is quite apt.
We walked back to the hotel, where Kelsey laid down for some rest and I went down to the small gym for a brief workout[20]. Dinner that night was closer to the hotel, in a restaurant near the train station that filled with Asian tourists and their luggage while we ate. The seafood risotto was only OK, but the calamari in it was perfect, though Kelsey wouldn’t try it. I had planned on getting gelato from a place on the corner near our hotel, but there was no gelato there! We desperately searched, as it was getting late and our streak was on the line. We were so happy to find a shop minded by a cheerful old man and I got the delicious combo of cinnamon and caramel for only 3 euros.
[20] This is as good a time as any to emphasize that despite being sick, sleeping poorly most nights, and running most of the early mornings, I was never tired while out and about and almost never sat down all day except to eat lunch.
01/14: Thursday
Our hotel in Florence was far more expensive than the ones in Rome and Venice. It had a nice lobby and more room for guests to relax, but the rooms were fairly ordinary otherwise. We found out one downside after going to bed Wednesday night: much of the noise made in the room above was easily transmitted to our room, as guests arrived there and kept a loud racket up for over an hour before settling down around 11:30pm. (I didn’t even know this. #rock –KO’) I did sleep well in the nice bed after that, and got up at 5:45am again to run.
This run was the trip’s best and most relaxing. I followed the river out of the main part of the city, which took me into a very nice park of empty, dimly lit streets and paths. I crossed the river and back on pedestrian bridges and had enjoyable time despite the darkness.
We got ready and packed quickly before breakfast, after which we stowed our luggage away in the lobby and checked out. We had only a few hours left in Florence before our early afternoon train to Rome and a lot to do. Remarkably, we saved some of the best for last without really knowing it.
The weather had turned for the worse, with a light drizzle and chill, and we headed through it to our first stop, San Marco Museum. This was the place with the Fra Angelico frescoes in the monks’ cells! There were so many beautiful paintings in the church it was staggering. And then we went to the cloisters to see the Fra Angelicos. They were certainly nice, but perhaps with a bit too much emphasis on the powers of Jesus’ spurting blood. I would like to have one in my monastic cell.
From there we went to the Medici Chapel. I did not remember going there before, and I was startled this doesn’t get more acclaim. The chapel itself is magnificent: huge pillars in brown and gray stone, high, lovely ceiling, and one of the more beautiful floors we saw, but it was all poorly lit and my camera took poor footage. In another chamber were wonderful Michelangelo statues and tombs he designed for two of the Medici brothers. I wished I could spend an hour staring. The family also had a huge collection of relics of the saints in an adjoining museum. Each bone fragment or lock of hair was incorporated into fantastic sculptures and ornaments. I wish I’d taken more videos and pictures there. Kelsey loved seeing the bones. (They were in really cool cases. They even had one of John the Baptist’s bones! –KO’)
Santa Maria Novella was near the train station and our hotel and was our last tourist stop. I had been there before but forgot all the treasures it contained, including the first painting that enraptured me in Art History at Moravian, a fresco by Massacio that showed the Trinity with Jesus on the cross and God behind him in what looked like an alcove, with the dimensions and sense of space perfectly carried out. We got out of there around noon and walked back to the hotel and got our bags. We were at the station in plenty of time, and there was a busy and confusing cafeteria where we went in separately for lunch, which we then ate at some of the few seats provided in the terminal while waiting for our train to arrive.
The trip back was fine, though the train was a bit more crowded than the others we’d been on. We got a taxi to the area of the hotel, where the taxi guy argued with me that I needed to pay 3.5euros more because we had big bags with us. I was steamed, but it was only 3.5euros.
This time we stayed in the proper Hotel Campo de’ Fiori, and, I must say, you should stay there if you can get a room. The room was by far the best, and most important of all for that area, soundproof. I spent a good bit of the night in the bathroom coughing and Kelsey couldn’t hear it at all. No noise made it in from the market as the workers came in the morning. The bed and the pillow were awesome.
We weren’t there to rest yet, though. We headed right out to St. Peter in Chains, and for once I was in charge. It turns out we walked right past stairs that went right to it without any signs saying so. We took the long way around, but eventually, after going into the local college there, where I was barely able to keep Kelsey from going upstairs to Heaven knows where, and then Kelsey taking us through a parking lot and apparent construction site for another adjacent building, we found it. It is famously home of Michelangelo’s strange and magnificent Moses statue, which was part of a really nice tomb to the right of the main altar. In a lower alcove reached by stairs in front of the altar was a glass case, lit from within, that allegedly contained the chains that held St. Peter at some point. I didn’t get much of the info about the place, mostly wanting to see Moses. There was a splendid Madonna and Child painting (of course –KO’) with a golden background to the left of the altar I could not get close to and whose provenance I could not ascertain, much to my frustration (but not enough to motivate me to look it up since).
It was not far to the other, newer Forums from there: Trajan’s, Nerva’s, etc. The ruins were very much like the other ones, and we bobbed from one sign to the next reading about them. A new road built under Mussolini to allow for big parades bisected the Forums; the construction of the road had unearthed much of them. The rain got heavier and our tolerance for more touring lower, so we did not try to go in the Victor Emmanuele II Monument, a massive white marble building with huge bronze statues on the top visible from nearly everywhere in Rome and disdained by many for its over the top tribute to an unworthy person, the first king of the united country of Italy (I just read some good things about him, though).
I didn’t have much cash left and wanted to find someplace cheaper to eat. We were lucky to find a place nearby where we ate under a tent, seated next to a wasteful gas burning heater, with a 12euro meal special: bruschetta, salad, and pasta. It wasn’t enough so I also ate a whole white pizza without cheese (it was basically a huge, flat piece of garlic bread). We topped that off with the delicious and reasonable gelato at Blue Ice, which we also took to the scenic rooftop terrace (no food allowed) to eat while we enjoyed the nighttime views. It was a great last day.
For the folks at home, yes. We did have gelato every single night. I also am fairly certain that I had Nutella at least once a day while we were there. Overall, Italy had fabulous food and spectacular sights. –KO’
01/15: departure Friday
I mentioned my rough patch during the night, but it couldn’t have happened at a nicer hotel. I was up at 5:30am for my last Italian run. I took no chances and just ran up the river for 2.5 miles on the bike/running path and turned around as car headlights approached me on a very dark stretch. I guess cars are allowed there? I did 5 miles and then walked back to the hotel (it wasn’t raining and wasn’t too cold). The breakfast was good, and then we checked out and got in the Mercedes for a quiet ride out to the airport. We were through security and passport control in just a few minutes and up to the vast waiting area to relax before the 10 hour flight back.
I don’t remember much about the flight, which is good. I didn’t sleep at all, and my butt was sore the last 5 hours. (I listened to podcasts the entire time, in case anyone was wondering. –KO’) I was glad to get to Philly, and to finally have our bags come out after a long wait despite taking forever at passport control where we had to process through an automated system that took a classic awful photo of Kelsey that looked like she was an alien wearing a $5 rubber Kelsey mask. (I cried from laughing so hard and I swear the guy at passport control laughed, too. –KO’) Then we were through the checkpoint with an agent who asked me a bunch of questions about my military service (I think in a nice way??) before letting us through.
It didn’t take too long for the shuttle to the hotel parking lot to show up, and we got there just around 5pm. I had hoped we’d be earlier, as we were now going to have to deal with rush hour traffic on a Friday the first hour or so north, but it turns out that was not an issue, as my car didn’t start. It seemed to make a weak effort of turning over the first time, but then nothing much happened. The lights were working and radio came on, but I thought maybe the battery wasn’t strong enough to turn it over (recall it had just been serviced and checked three days before we left). As part of a recent good will gesture from Volkswagen for the issues with my turbo diesel engine, I’d received three years of free roadside assistance, so Kelsey, whose phone had a better charge, called them. It took a long time to get through, and then we were told someone would be there in about an hour. That gave her some time to charge her phone in one of the hotel lobbies while I repeatedly had to pee as my adrenaline surged with the annoyance of having to deal with this on a rainy night after a long day of travel. After a much longer time than an hour, an Asian man in a beat up car showed up and tried to get it started, but it wouldn’t and the battery was fine. So, now we were screwed. We waited another 2 hours for a tow truck, and after they took the car away, we caught a shuttle back to the airport and then took a rental car shuttle to Enterprise, where I rented a car (VW had made the reservation for me) to drive home and use while my car was getting serviced. We left there after 9pm, and I drove until we had about 45 minutes left on the trip, when I was too tired to risk driving anymore. I immediately fell asleep and was in and out of sleep until we got home at about 11:45pm. I got to bed quickly and was up at 6am to run the next morning, feeling fine. It took all week for the car to get fixed: the starter was the problem, but there was also water in the intercooler, which likely damaged the starter. I didn’t have to pay for anything but the rental car: everything was under warranty and Metzers sent guys to pick it up for free on the Friday before a big snow storm, so I had it that weekend and it is running well.
Overall, best trip ever. –KO’
Kelsey will be jealous when I add at this point: USCITA!
[1] . Wishful thinking? Maybe
[2] It didn’t even have a sign. That must dock you one star right out.
[3] Way too many Italians smoke with no regard for those around them.
[4] “Operation Safe Strade” had at least 2 soldiers with large black machine guns deployed in front of nearly every place of note. Their fingers always seemed to be on the triggers of their guns.
[5] It was on almost every menu. I did get a pizza that used a much smaller amount on it. It was really good.
[6] It is true. You cannot escape going to the Piazza Navona.
[7] Almost every tour in Rome included a promise to “skip the lines.” Only in this instance did it matter.
[8] Official Vatican Tours used video monitors for their talks and needed to be able to sit where they could be seen. We were not official, but something close.
[9] There was a special area in the center that showed the size of all of the biggest churches in the world in comparison. (I’m not surprised I missed this. –KO’)
[10] I never expected to spend so much out of pocket money while I was there – about 1200euros, but it was all worth it.
[11] Saying something!
[12] I’m pretty sure it was a woman. She most resembled Robin Roberts, with a beatific smile.
[13] She was sitting by herself for a long time until a bald and bearded slim guy, who was not even close to as good-looking as I am, dined with her. I don’t think it was her brother, so it gave me hope….
[14] Venice seemed to be about 10-12 degrees F colder than Rome.
[15] The food was not cheap in general, but they really killed you on the drinks, as water was not free (usually 3euros for a litre bottle) and everything else was at least 4euros, even a can of soda.
[16] I think. I remember a very scenic view from that side of river that took us a while to get to.
[17] This was to be one of the themes of our day.
[18] If this isn’t the best joke about a religious painting, tell me a better one.
[19] The name I made up. It is quite apt.
[20] This is as good a time as any to emphasize that despite being sick, sleeping poorly most nights, and running most of the early mornings, I was never tired while out and about and almost never sat down all day except to eat lunch.
