Sitting now in Avignon, France, writing on a ridiculous French keyboard, I realise how much I have to write, and how excrutiating it will be with all letters and punctuation in very much the 'wrong' place in front of me...
But, I need to cast my mind back to Florence now, where I left off last time. That was quite a while ago!!
The first night in Florence, after meeting up with Brooke again, we found the best pizza on the planet, which was extrodinarily cheap, and like Heaven in my mouth. A few days later we went in search of that illusive place for hours, wandering the streets like some kind of zombie type creature, but we never found it. It just appeared for us that one night, like a magical mirage that we could reach out and touvh only for a fleeting moment!
The hostel we stayed in in Florence deserves its own blog, dedicated simply to hashing out the bizzare, surreal details. I'll leave it hanging there, and maybe sometime soon that blog will come. Or maybe it is better to leave it to imaginations...
In Florence there was quite a lot to see. Unfortunately, these sites are all too aware that they are worth seeing, and no expense is spared. Money fell out of my pockets as though I didn't have any pockets... The spectacular cathedral in the centre of the city pulsated as if alive with its green, pink and white marble and melted and dripped with the most intricate and nuanced detail. We huffed our way up the 463 stairs to the peak of the Duomo where we looked out over terracotta rooves which flowed out towards the horizon and then slowly, delicately inched their way up and lightly dotted the hills in the distance. Florence was beautiful. It was stunning, but not like Venice or Chianti or the soon to come Cinque Terre. For me, it was pleasing and pretty and amazing, but not in the heart-wrenching way of other places I have seen. And I estimate the ratio of tourists to local inhabitants to be about 85:1. No kidding, I heard more American voices than Italian.
Sometimes Florence felt a little impersonal. It felt a little tired. Like it is always having to hold up this exterior to keep the masses satisfied, but the effort has drained it and it's stopped caring a little now. It's a bit half-hearted, everything a force of habit and routine rather than passion or commitment or investment. That is not to say I didn't love it to pieces! It just didn't touch me, which is a bit of a pity. I think the city holds so very, very much. It is so multi-faceted and rich, but all its layers are taken for granted from every possible direction and so its lost some of its impact and density.
Gallery day came. We lined up for just over an hour to see my pal David- Michelangelo's David that is... if you didn't get it!
And what an incredible experience that was. I've never seen anything like it in my life. So many of the other 'big' artworks I've seen, the ones drenched in hype and up-talking, they haven't manage to stand up to their name for me. I mean, I couldn't do it... but I hadn't been feeling it. But David is everything he's meant to be and more!!
There he stood; towering over us and he washuge already, but his presence fills every empty space in that room. The skill, the detail, the passion that must have gone into it... You could almost see the blood flowing through the veins which run so astonishingly under his marble skin. I wanted so badly to hold his hand, or give him a massive hug! He feels so alive, the tension fizzes all over his body and he looks like he'll step off the podium at any second! His face was so beautiful, his eyes holding so much fear, so much innocence.
It was perfect.
Then we lined up for pushing on two hours for the Uffizi gallery. It was pretty neat to see Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus' dominating its massive wall and his 'Spring' absolutely blew me away on such a massive, tangible scale.
Then, after a day of culture and art I was ready to plunge myself down into depravity... ha ha ha.
We made some wonderful new friends in the hostel, Rosie from England, Sarah from North Carolina, Aelfwyn from Oregon, Josie from Melbourne... some others came later. Anyway, cheap supermarket wine and drinking games led me down a path ending in embarrassment as I puked all over the place and spent the morning after cleaning up after myself. What a sorry sight. But it was fun, before vomit and raging shame came into the picture. We did meet some lovely people in Forence, and I realised that I have reached a place in my life now in which I can pull it off pretty well. I can handle it, I'm not a social invalid anymore! It's a fair bit more fun this way!
Recovery day followed, but Rosie, Josie, Brooke and I decided to cook and eat dinner together that night which was nice- we had our own little family going.
The next day we crossed the Ponte Vecchio and headed to the Palazzo Pitti, where we wandered the beautiful Bobli Gardens for hours.
I got very lost in the deserted corners of Florence, and felt better that I had gotten to those places, if only for a breath.
That evening we hiked up to Pizza Michelangelo, where we sat overlooking the city and watched the sun slowly inch towards the horizon and flare and blaze in its last hoorah before it ducked behind the hills for the night. We sat, surrounded by the mosy natiral, relaxed, soothing atmosphere, looking out at the entire city and the river, with casual guitar music wafting loosly in the air. It was pretty fab.
The next evening- my last in Florence- Brooke Rosie and I headed to the centre of the Ponte Vecchio to meet Sarah and off we trotted to the Florence Wine Event. 10 euros bought you a wine glass and a tasting card and for three consecutive days you could meandre through the various wine stalls and sample the hundreds of varities that lay under the white, domed mini-tents. We cruised along, with all the other wine tasters- some the full blown and incredibly wanky 'knowledgable' type, and others shameless cheap booze fiends- and chatted contentedly about our lives, the wine, the world, sipping our Italian wine, in Florence. Good times.
I did enjoy Florence immensly. There is a part of me that still feels like I wasn't really there, like I missed something. I didn't spend as much time absorbing the place as I have in the past, because I was busy with people. I guess Florence was just something different for me, and I experienced the city in a different way to the others. There would be no use in having the same experiences over and over again. Florence was different, and it was good!!
Then I was off on my own again. Brooke stayed in Florence for a while, and then her and Rosie went together back to Rome where Brooke met up fleetingly with her family, who are currently touring Europe. She then went back to Florence, and we met again on the bus to Nice.
I however, moved about differently.
I wanted to see Perugia, so I booked a hostel in Torricella, about 20 km from Perugia. It was such a gem of a hostel; Heaven by the lake!
It was a pain to get there on a Madonna-crazy Italian Sunday, but after being screwed over by the train timetable a few times, and shedding a few desperate tears (really only a few!), I got there and the pain of the journey melted away!
The hostel was on the edge of a massive, beautiful lake- Trasimeno. I had moved from Tuscany to Umbria. The people there were beyond lovely and so welcoming- inviting me to eat dinner with them not only on the nights all guests shared the free home-cooked meal with the employees, but even when they ate alone. I got free bike access, free breakfast, free dinner each night (beautiful, fresh, Italian home-cooked food), and if I stayed three nights, I could stay a fourth for free. What a place! So, obviously I changed my plans and stayed four nights instead of two.
My first full day by Lake Trasimeno, I jumped on the bike and cycled 65 km around the circumfrance of the lake. I'm never happier and lore content than when I'm on a bike!! The route took me through various medieval towns and villages which are still operating today. One of the villages was so perfect, so wonderful, going along, minding its own business, nestled in the heart of this medieval citadel on the top of a hill.
Round I went, through the beautiful rolling hills, the calm lake my constant companion to the side- the dull blue of the water almost indecsernable from that of the distant hills, and in turn, the hills from the open sky above me. It was heavenly.
The next day I jumped the train to Perugia. I spent an age climbing the massive hill to the peak, following the endless signs leading to the city centre in what felt like an epic, endless, vertical goose-chase. I finally found an escalator (yes, you could still go FURTHER up!) and up I went, finding myself then in an underground fortress from the middle ages. This is how you get to the city centre, by going up through an ancient underground city! These people who live and work there, every day they come up through the belly of the mountain, using ancient underground tunnel systems to reach the pizzerias, geleterias and supermarkets which perch above them. Holy Hell,what a world they inhabit! What lives they lead...
And boy was it beautiful! There I was, way up on the top of this massive mound of earth, with alleyways and steep staircases worming their way up from all directions. The layout of the city actually makes me think of a Pollock painting in 3d- buildings, streets, pathways all dripped down atop this mountain, some stacking up, some leaking and cascading down the slope.
My next stop was Cinque Terre, my final destination in a country I had grown to love very, very dearly. I definitely would not feel as fondly toward Italy had I not cracked open our basic itinerary and laced the gaps with some diversity.
My time in Cinque Terre had its pock-marks. I was greeted with a large dose of confusion and stress when the hostel I had booked into was everything I would hope to avoid in a place to stay and I had to look for alternatives. It was expensive, damn expensive, but it was worth it in the end. I stayed Rio,aggiore, the first of the five villages, and I think it turned out to be my favourite also. The buildings, the rainbow hued houses are perched up in the curves and folds of the cliff face and spill doan like candies toward the edge of the water. I had to trek half way up and effing mountain to get to my room, but once I got up there, heaving and sweating and weak at the knees, I was rewarded with a glorious view of the ocean.
I would eat dinner each night, perched out on the massive stones which dam the marina and relax, surrounded by the crystal blue waters as the sun sank into its wet bed.
The first day I hiked the trail which links the five villages, stopping in each to explore and recover. I walked along the cliff-face, the sea pulsing next to me doan below. Each town was equally as breathtaking, and quaint seems almost patronising, but it's what they were!
There were trillions of tourists, but I did get some brief glimpses of local life. Once, I walked past a church, and sitting on the step was a nonna in her apron, bouncing her baby grandson on her knee, singing passionately to him. Pretty special!
I only had two full days in Cinque Terra, the second was spent lazing at the beach, and hiking a little and eating my dinner again by the ocean as I watched the sea endlessy pound at the rocks, without a moments reprise. I felt so exhausted looking at the ocean that night, and I realised how important it is to rest a little, to let the blood pump slower for a while- ease the pressure so you don't burst.
So that was what Nice was for. I did nothing the entire time we were there. I lay by the beach, I lay in bed, I read and I ate baguettes.
Japan is coming up in a week now, and I have looked forward to it for too long to arrive there and realise I haven't the energy to make the damn most of it!
We met some FABULOUS people in Nice; The first night, Brooke, Erin from Wagga and Josie from Missouri and I sat huddled around Erin's mac watching American Warewolf in Paris and laughing our asses off. The next night we all went to 'Chez Wayne's' where the bartender was Aussie, and the only word in French was 'Sortie' (or Exit) so the locals know how to get the Hell out. But we had a lot of fun, and they were wonderful girls. We had gone in a futile search for mal-advertised bingo, which we were pretty epically dissapointed to find was not offered. What a rip.
Kyle from California came the next day after Josie left and settled pretty comfortably into our little Nice crew. We all got along incredibly well, and had a lot of fun together. But I really did very little there.
Now I'm in Avignon, and in about 8 days I fly to Japan, and I plan to do very little while I am here also. Take that society!
And I think that is about it...
Until next time...
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