Well, this will probably be our last message from on the road. We have only three more nights here in Europe before heading home. I think sending these messages hase been as much fun for us as it has (I hope) been for you! In fact, I'll bet Mom and Dad get their own computer pretty soon!
Now, let me bring you up to date on the last week of our adventures.
We left Monterosso early the nezt morning and snaked back out of the hills of the Cinque Terre. Our plan was to drive again on the Autostrada north into France along the Cote d'Azur. This highway is non-stop tunnels. If we went through one, we went through a hundred. This is no exaggeration. The countryside is beautiful in between tunnels. But, when you consider the alternative -- driving up and down those snaky roads -- Mom was just as glad to keep the tunnels.
We reached the French Riviera by early afternoon and checked into our hotel in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, just outside of Monte Carlo. The hotel has a very unFrench name: Hotel Westminster. Our room looked over the Mediterranean Sea and the hotel had a spectacularly beautiful garden of roses and cacti and bougainvillea and other semi-tropical plants clinging to the hillside over the blue, blue sea. What a place.
That afternoon, we drove the one kilometer into the town/country of Monaco and spent the afternoon walking around the old city outside the Grimaldi Palace. We also watched a short tourist movie about the history of Monaco. It was really quite interesting.
I also found it quite ironic that Dad loved this hotel location. When we were planning this trip, he specifically told me we should stay away from urban locations. I had planned two nights in Roquebrunne, but changed it because of his preferences. What did he tell me when we arrived here, but that he'd love to spend several days here. Too bad! What was really too bad was that on Friday, the day we left Roquebrune, Dad put his back out schlepping the luggage down to the car. His immediate thought was: "Oh, no. Dr. G. isn't even in the office today!"
That morning we drove on along the French Riviera (lots of villas, expensive cars, and palm trees) and on into Provence. We were headed for the town of Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, a town located near Avignon.
Provence, a famous district of southern France, is somewhat arid to our eyes, has many rocky outcrops and escarpements and vineyard after vineyard after orchard (apricots, pears, lemons, etc) after olive grove after more vineyards. It's quite beautiful, especially around Avignon.
Before we went to our hotel, we made a slight detour to visit Les-Baux-de-Provence, the location of a medieval ruin. This ancient village and fortress is located at the top of one of those rocky hills (actually, the tail end of the mountain range known as the Alpilles). It was extremely windy and I had a lot of pebbles in my teeth by the end of our visit. However, it was a remarkable place. Apparently, one of the episodes in its history includes destruction because it was a stronghold of the Protestants during the religious wars.
The next morning we visited another ancient location almost at the foot of the Baux hill, a ruined town named Glanum. Glanum was originally the site of a Celtic settlement and is so named because they worshipped a god named Glani there. This was about the 7th century BCE. A few hundred years later, the town became a Greek settlement and, by about 300 BCE, it was taken over by the Romans. It was during this time that it had its heyday. However, the barbarians (early French, I presume) destroyed it in the 4th century CE and eventually it was covered with earth. It was not really rediscovered again until about 1921. Today, you can tour the ruins and see the remains of the town. However, if you've seen something like Jerash in Jordan, as I have, these ruins are nothing to write home about.
Our hotel in Isle-sur-Sorgue, was quite modern (about 1960's, we thought) but was located directly on the River Sorgue. Lots of ducks. This is a remarkable town. The river flows into town. It flows through the town. It flows out of the town. It flows around the town. There are many different branches. We had a lovely supper in an outdoor cafe that was right on the edge of the water (quiche and salad). We never really figured out if the river was coming or going, but it sure was interesting. It really reminded Dad of Venice, except the water was crystal clear and flowing very quickly.
We spent the rest of our afternoon washing our clothes. But not in the river!
The next day was a long one.
We were headed north to the beautiful Dordogne area of France, but stopped first at the Pont-de-Gard not far from Avignon. Pond-de-Gard was discovered and somewhat restored at least 200 years ago. It is the largest remaining stretch of Roman aquaduct in the world. Dad was mesmerized. It is very impressive. It spans a medium sized river -- about 150 feet wide -- but the aquaduct was very high and spans the river's valley. It was designed to carry fresh water over 35 miles to the Roman city of Nimes and dropped 1 foot for every 300 feet it travelled. Truly fascinating.
The rest of the day was spent driving on small, twisty back roads through very rugged country (the story of Mom's life). It was beautiful! One stop we made was to visit the tiny village that has a museum of French Protestant resistence that took place during the 1500's. Unfortunately, we arrived a few minutes after noon -- it was closed for their mid-day break. The story of our lives! So we kept driving.
We finally reached our destination at about 7:30 pm. Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne is a tiny village deep in the French countryside in the Massif Central -- a very hilly region. We stayed for three nights at Chateau d'Arnac (a few km north of town), a real fairytale castle. It was built orginally in the 11th century, and rebuilt in the 15th century. It has turrets, an incredible spiral staircase with stone steps that are extremely hollowed out by use; you can hardly walk on them. Our room was on the third floor -- up the spiral steps (Mom made one trip a day) and looked out over the pond, seven geese, three cats, four kittens and one pregnant dog. Sheep and pigs were elsewhere. The owner is English and gave a really English breakfast of bacon and eggs! We rejoiced.
Our first day we had reservations to visit La Grotte de Font-de-Gaume, a cave with ancient cave paintings. They only allow 200 visitors a day due to our steamy breath and germy hands which contribute to the deterioration of the paintings. As we headed slowly toward the cave, we savoured the fabulous countryside, admiring the numerous castles and chateaux. Then, we quite unexpectedly noticed a long rock ridge running along the valley through which we were driving. It was high up the rock face and there seemed to be people standing on the rock edge itself. We starting wondering what it was. Maybe an archeological site! Then we realized the people weren't working, just standing there. So we decided to check it out.
As we approached the location on very narrow roads, I noticed a a small sign indicating it was the site of troglodyte dwellings. These, for the uninformed, are cave dwellings. We decided to learn more and spent a fascinating hour learning about how people have lived on this barren rock ridge for centuries, if not millennia. Some of the more recent residents included, our friends, the Protestant Resisters. Earlier residents included people who organized an incredible warning system They had positions located down the valley and could, using horns, send in about five minutes a warning signal over 18 km to let their people in the valley know that the Vikings were coming and give them time to reach safety in the rock dwellings! This is the largest troglodyte location in the world. It is over one kilometer long, five levels in height and had over 100 dwellings. It is definitely worth visiting: La Roche Saint-Cristophe.
We did finally make it to the cave drawings at the Font-de-Gaume. They were also fascinating and included beautiful drawings of many bison and deer. It was moving to try to imagine the effort the artists took to create these masterpieces. The people who run the cave believe they were made 14,000 years ago. Whenever it was, it took true artists. As I mentioned earlier, visitors to this cave are very restricted. We were not permitted to touch the walls and certainly not the paintings. About once a year, they use some kind of antibiotic to disinfect the cave. They expect that this cave will be closed to visitors altogether sometime in the not too distant future. I'm glad we had the chance to visit it.
The next morning, after descending the scoopy stone staircase, and walking carefully through the goose poop to the car, we drove to yet another cave. This time, Mom waited in the car while Dad and I visited the Gouffre de Padirac. Mom knew she'd had enough of dark enclosed spaces and too many stairs. She read her book and had a nap in the car while she waited.
The Padirac cave is actually a gynormous sinkhole, at the bottom of which is a spectacular underground river. The sink has existed for thousands of years. It is 35 meters across (about 100 feet) and about 100 meters deep (a meter is about a yard).
After Dad and I walked down the 455 stairs to the bottom (we could have taken an elevator, but wanted to feel the distance), we walked about 400 meters into the cave along the river. At this point, we joined other tourists in small boats that were poled like gondolas in Venice. The guide poled us along the river another half a kilometer (we're guessing at this distance) where we disembarked and were led through the caverns. They are nothing less than unbelievable. The largest cavern could hold an entire cathedral. It is huge. The stalagmites and stalactites are larger than you can imagine. I won't event try to remember the measurements.
We returned again by way of the boats and then wimped out and took the elevators back up to the surface. Dad noted that, while the Font-de-Gaume artists were wonderful, they were nothing to compare to The Artist Who created this masterpiece.
This whole region is full of tiny villages perched precariously on rock faces, sometimes built right into them. Everywhere we turned, we saw further marvels. Words fail.
Today we left our fairytale castle with regret and drove further north into the Loire Valley, a region famous for its elegant chateaux and vineyards. Tonight and tomorrow night we're staying at Chateau de la Voute, a 15th century chateau that is much more elegant than the previous castle. Our room's theme is Napoleon, and we actually have a two-bedroom suite. This means I don't need to listen to anyone's snoring but my own. As soon as we finish this message, we're going to head back to our very elegant B&B and, tomorrow we'll tour at least one of the most famous chateaux in the region.
One last note. We forgot to tell you about a fightening sight we saw in Germany just by the Ludwig castles. We were driving past them, back to our hotel when we stopped to watch some parasailers. One was flying much higher than the other and, just as we watched, he made a quick turn and seemed to lose all the air from one side of his parasail. He began to spin and careen out of control and fell very rapidly. It only took moments, but all we could do was cry out: "Oh, oh, oh, he's falling". Just as we instinctively prayed that the Lord would save him, he fell behind a hillside and then we caught a brief sight of a parachute. We think he made it down safely, although perhaps with some injuries. We were quite shaken by this experience. It was horrifying I don't think Mom plans to parasail too soon.
That's all for now. I'll make a final report when we return home this weekend. Five weeks have passed by quickly but wonderfully.
Love to all.
Thursday, June 14, 2001
Wednesday, June 6, 2001
Europe #11 - Monterosso al Mare, Italy
Let me bring you up to date on our trip from Austria into Italy.
After we left Unterpinswang in the Tirol, we headed to the Swarovski crystal factory near Innsbruck. Although we enjoyed shopping in their on-site store, the actual crystal place we paid to enter was a huge disappointment. Our recommendation: don't bother. It was a huge waste of money and time. It's very avant garde with displays of strange mannikins covered in crystals, very small-time light shows and average music ... we didn't get it. We thought we'd get to see the making of the famous crystal objects, but there wasn't a craftsman in sight. Also, as seems to be common in Europe, the organization and display of their sales materials is very inadequate. Big chaos. Oh, well.
Following Innsbruck, we began to head through the Brenner Pass into Italy. We descended through the mountains for the next couple of hours ... constantly going downhill. The Brenner Pass itself is an unbelievable feat of engineering. The roadway snakes through the pass and down the valleys ... four lanes across ... at a fairly even rate of descent and basically clinging to the valley wall. Almost the entire way is built up above the valley floor, as if you're travelling on a high bridge for miles and miles. It's nothing short of spectacular. Unfortately, we did it in rain.
Soon after we entered Italy, we noticed that the homes and farm buildings tended to look more broken down, and not well looked after. This seems to hold true for most of what we've seen in this country. That doesn't mean to say there aren't attractive places, just that the cultural tendency seems not to focus on building exteriors. It was quite a change from what we'd seen in northern Europe.
We drove most of the day through rain, at times very heavy and windy. Then, as we left the mountains near Verona, the storm finished passing us by. However, we then changed our direction and headed east toward Venice, chasing after the storm. As we drew closer and closer to this famous city, we overtook the storm and drove again in heavy rains. Despite the poor visibility, we managed to find Venice itself and parked in one of their only parking lots (cars are not permitted on Venice's islands). We loaded up with the backpacks we were using for our two days in Venice and began to look for the route to the vaporetto (waterbus) so we could get to the hotel.
Picture this: We're in Italy for the first time, we're carrying our luggage, we're blinded by the downpour and winds, we can't find anyone who can direct us to the vaporetto (I'm not even sure which direction the water is), it's getting late (after 6 pm), the information and banking facilities at the parking lot are closed, there are hordes of tourists waiting around for their tour busses in the pouring rain, we're hungry, I can hardly read my map for the rain ... You get the picture?
Even today, three days later, Mom keeps chuckling about her image of me -- standing in the pouring rain, my hair hanging in strings, trying to read my map.
We finally stumbled on the vaporetto waiting area (by this time, we're practically wading through the water), and found the right place to catch the boat. It arrived before long and we boarded with many, many other people. We all crowded into the covered sitting area, the windows were steamed up and there was no way to read the names of the vaporetto stops, it was crowded and we were very wet. It was so bad, I don't think Mom thought about the boat capsizing and drowning once!
I had studied the map of Venice and knew (theoretically) where our hotel was. I knew that the boat we were on would take us down the Grand Canal. I knew our stop was called Academia and that it was located by the third of three bridges across the Grand Canal.
I kept peering out the doors and wiping away the mist from the windows and eventually was pretty sure it was time for us to disembark (neither the driver nor the assistant announce the stops). I was right and we stumbled onto semi-dry land. We stepped hesitantly into the street (walkway) and headed toward the building I was sure the hotel was in. I knew that the Hotel Galleria was located on one floor of the palazzo (palace) directly by the bridge. Logically, this meant there were other businesses or apartments located in the same building -- more than one door. I also knew the building directly fronted the Canal, so that left three other sides of the building where we might find the door. But, there was the door we wanted right in front of us. What a relief! We could get our of the rain, I could dry my hair (absolutely soaked), and maybe we could find dinner!
Venice is terribly expensive. I had really looked to find a hotel that wasn't the most expensive and that would give us the best experience and location for the money. I made the right choice in this case, but expected modest, if not plain and small, rooms. To our delight, the room we received looked out directly on the Grand Canal and was quite large. The ceiling was about 12 feet high and beautifully painted (with serious cracks at no added cost). The furniture was fancy, although a bit beat up. We enjoyed this room -- even if the breakfast was meagre (croissants, rolls, a tiny bit of cheese, coffee).
Dad checked with the receptionist and she recommended a restaurant to us, just a few streets away. By this time it's 7:30 pm. We found the restaurant quite easily (narrow alleys about four feet wide, Momspeak -- "Rick, do you know where you're going? Rick, we can't go in there! Janice, what do we do now?" Dad just kept going and we followed.).
We were disappointed to find that the restaurant was "completo" or full. We didn't have a reservation. They were willing to prepare a couple of small pizzas to take back to our room and we were happy enough with this. But, while we were waiting for the pizzas, a table became available, so we got to eat in style after all. However, by this time, we realized we were way too tired to enjoy a leisurely meal, so we settled for a small serving each of spagetti with salmon. It was delicious.
Let me break into this description of our time in Venice (or Vienna) as Mom and Dad keep mistakenly calling it, to tell you about restaurant meals in Europe. I call these dinners "Meat on a Plate." We've been served German Meatballs (one large finely ground somewhat flattened meat pattie in the middle of a dinner plate, surrounded by a sea of gravy), veal all by itself on a dinner plate, salmon and fish from the Gulf of Liguria on a plate, venison on a plate, deer on a plate, sausage on a plate ... and so on. If there are any vegetables involved (which isn't always), they're served separately or earlier or later. We never get all the food at once or together. Very disorienting.
Last night we had the Gulf fish on a plate served with a huge scoop of mayonnaise. The food is all delicious, but the serving of it is a constant surprise. Another surprise to us is the fact that everything is charged separately, including condiments. McDonalds charges extra for ketchup. The nice restaurant we went to the first night in Venice charged for the bread they had left us on the table. One helpful thing is to order from the Tourist Menu. Really helpful for tired, confused tourists. They give you several options in several courses. You just point to one for each course and you pay one set price for the whole meal. Good system. I'll come back to this later.
Back to Venice. We had a great sleep and after the meagre breakfast headed out for the main sight in town, Piazzo San Marco. Actually, the entire town of Venice is one big sight. There's so much to see and, as Mom kept saying, "It's SO old!" But, most tourists head first to the St. Mark's Basilica and the area around it. You've probably seen all the photos -- pigeons everywhere. One landed on my shoulder. The enormous piazza (or courtyard) is full of tourists, even first thing in the morning. We saw a long, long line of them standing patiently down half the piazza. So, of course, we joined them!
While Mom & Dad held our place, I walked to front to discover that we were waiting to enter (free) the church itself. Good choice! I went back and joined them for a while, and then decided to go and see if I could find tickets for us to tour the Doge's Palazzo next door. This was another good choice.
While Mom and Dad continued to stay in line and fight off the pigeons, I wandered around the palazzo in search of the ticket office. I eventually found it and joined the line-up for tickets -- I hoped. There were no signs and I was just guessing I was in the right place. It's good I went early; when we did enter the palazzo an hour later, the line-up was about four times longer. So I stood in line. And stood. And stood. I kept wondering if I should give up and go back to Mom and Dad. But I stood. Finally, I was one person away from the ticket seller (again, really bad organization). That one person in front of me engaged in a classic, stereotypical Italian exchange. The woman wanted to buy tickets for two adults and three students. The seller explained the students had to have student ID. The woman insisted the seller could use her eyes and see that they were students. The seller waved the printed ticket rules in front of the woman's face. They began to yell at each other. The woman dragged two of her kids to the ticket window and yelled that of course they were students, any fool could tell. The ticket seller yelled at the woman. The ticket seller yelled at her fellow ticket sellers. I simply watched in awe and hoped they wouldn't yell at me.
Finally, it was my turn. I didn't dare ask for seniors' prices! I meekly asked if we could enter at any time (many tourist sights have timed entrances, where you can only enter at the specific time printed on your ticket). The ticket seller was very calm and told me any time today would do. I heaved a sigh of relief, grabbed the tickets and ran back to Mom and Dad, sending pigeons into flight with every step!
This adventure had taken so long, Mom and Dad were first in line many times! We entered the church and were really taken with the spectacular mosaics on the floor (they're very famous), not to mention the rolling floor. It feels as if you're walking on rippled ice. The years of winter flooding and the settling of the subsoil at this part of Venice has given a pronounced roll to the floor. The "peaks" of the floors are about 20 feet apart. It's the most peculiar feeling. Dad keeps wondering about the basic structure of the building. We didn't notice any other problems with the walls or ceilings at this location.
After admiring the church, we headed over to the Doge's Palace and were really impressed with what we saw there. Big, big, big paintings, including the largest canvas painting in the world (by Tintoretto), lots of 24-carat gold ceilings, marble staircases, more paintings (travel writer Rick Steeves calls them wallpaper). Venice in her heyday had a larger city gross product 50% greater than the entire country of France at that time. It was the most powerful political entity in Europe. That was back about 600 years ago.
After all this walking (it was about 45 minutes to and from the piazze and hotel) we headed back to our room for a rest. (Lunch was a sandwich eaten on the cold marble steps of the piazza, again fighting off pigeons.) Walking in Venice is a challenge. There are innumerable canals, crisscrossed by small bridges that are always arched and stepped (hard for Mom). The bridges are always arched in order to accommodate the classic gondolas and other boats. We had hoped to have one of those expensive gondola rides but, after stopping on one bridge to watch them course past (with singing gondoliers!), we decided against it. We could smell a lot of fish. And other things. So, on we walked.
We spent a couple of hours in the afternoon riding the vaporetto -- a great way to view the palazzos -- and getting lost in the back alleys, before riding the vaporetto again. It was a lot of fun.
In the evening, we went back to a square we'd found, Campo San Stefano. It had lots of late afternoon sun and a restaurant that served food on a Monday! Most restaurants are closed Mondays. I can't imagine what they think tourists do on these days. Fast? We had a great meal with live music (accordian, clarinet, & 2 guitars) and headed home to our room where we hung out our windows and watched the boat traffic.
The next morning, we rode the vaporetto like experienced Venetians back to the car park and headed across Italy to the Italian Riviera. We took some back roads and saw rural, pastoral Italy.
At one point, we stopped for lunch in a little trattoria, or cafe. I think it was the Italian equivalent of a truck stop. Mom and I had our first experience with a toilet that was just a hole in the floor. We opened the door, took one look, and hurried back to the table. "We can wait," we told Dad. And we did! That town we discovered later was a walled city built in the 1500's (I looked it up).
Soon after that, we got back onto the Autostrada (big toll highway) where they have much better bathrooms and headed through beautiful hills and mountains to the coast -- where we are now.
The Cinque Terre (five lands) is a very old, very remote part of Italy at the bottom end of the Italian Riviera. These towns were first mentioned in some early Roman writings. They're actually five tiny fishing villages that cling to steep cliffs above the Mediterranean Sea. The big attraction is their remote location, the beautiful coast and the trail that snakes from town to town. They're barely accessible by car. Some of them aren't accessible by car! Need I mention that Mom was seriously traumatized by the drive here? Probably not. I imagine you've noticed the pattern so far.
We're staying in Monterosso al Mare and it took about 20 km of snaky, skinny roads to get here. Sometimes there was room for two cars to pass, sometimes not. Mom's one consolation is that on the way out tomorrow, our car will mostly be on the "inside" side of the road.
This morning, Dad and I planned to take the local train to town number 5 (we're in number 1) and hike at least one or two parts of the trail. Unfortunately, a few minutes after we left the hotel, the skies opened and we had another heavy rain. We gave up on the trails and found this internet cafe instead. Oh well, we've enjoyed wandering this little village, with its crooked streets and very vocal residents.
Just in closing for now, let me tell you about supper last night. Our room includes not only breakfast, but supper as well. We arrived in the dining room on time and were shown to our own table. There was a menu waiting for us ... tourist menu style. Our only problem was twofold: the menu had not a word of English and neither did the waitress. We finally deciphered enough to pick out meat vs fish dishes, but our primary way of choosing our dinner selections was, as Mom says, to close our eyes and put a finger to the list of options ... "I'll have ... that one!" It worked pretty well! The tiramisu (dessert) was fabulous. I think I'll have that again tonight.
Well, we'd better sign off for now. I think I see a little sunshine peeking into this dark hole filled with computers. (This place is so Italy ... the music being played in this internet cafe is loud opera. It's great!)
Love to you all!
After we left Unterpinswang in the Tirol, we headed to the Swarovski crystal factory near Innsbruck. Although we enjoyed shopping in their on-site store, the actual crystal place we paid to enter was a huge disappointment. Our recommendation: don't bother. It was a huge waste of money and time. It's very avant garde with displays of strange mannikins covered in crystals, very small-time light shows and average music ... we didn't get it. We thought we'd get to see the making of the famous crystal objects, but there wasn't a craftsman in sight. Also, as seems to be common in Europe, the organization and display of their sales materials is very inadequate. Big chaos. Oh, well.
Following Innsbruck, we began to head through the Brenner Pass into Italy. We descended through the mountains for the next couple of hours ... constantly going downhill. The Brenner Pass itself is an unbelievable feat of engineering. The roadway snakes through the pass and down the valleys ... four lanes across ... at a fairly even rate of descent and basically clinging to the valley wall. Almost the entire way is built up above the valley floor, as if you're travelling on a high bridge for miles and miles. It's nothing short of spectacular. Unfortately, we did it in rain.
Soon after we entered Italy, we noticed that the homes and farm buildings tended to look more broken down, and not well looked after. This seems to hold true for most of what we've seen in this country. That doesn't mean to say there aren't attractive places, just that the cultural tendency seems not to focus on building exteriors. It was quite a change from what we'd seen in northern Europe.
We drove most of the day through rain, at times very heavy and windy. Then, as we left the mountains near Verona, the storm finished passing us by. However, we then changed our direction and headed east toward Venice, chasing after the storm. As we drew closer and closer to this famous city, we overtook the storm and drove again in heavy rains. Despite the poor visibility, we managed to find Venice itself and parked in one of their only parking lots (cars are not permitted on Venice's islands). We loaded up with the backpacks we were using for our two days in Venice and began to look for the route to the vaporetto (waterbus) so we could get to the hotel.
Picture this: We're in Italy for the first time, we're carrying our luggage, we're blinded by the downpour and winds, we can't find anyone who can direct us to the vaporetto (I'm not even sure which direction the water is), it's getting late (after 6 pm), the information and banking facilities at the parking lot are closed, there are hordes of tourists waiting around for their tour busses in the pouring rain, we're hungry, I can hardly read my map for the rain ... You get the picture?
Even today, three days later, Mom keeps chuckling about her image of me -- standing in the pouring rain, my hair hanging in strings, trying to read my map.
We finally stumbled on the vaporetto waiting area (by this time, we're practically wading through the water), and found the right place to catch the boat. It arrived before long and we boarded with many, many other people. We all crowded into the covered sitting area, the windows were steamed up and there was no way to read the names of the vaporetto stops, it was crowded and we were very wet. It was so bad, I don't think Mom thought about the boat capsizing and drowning once!
I had studied the map of Venice and knew (theoretically) where our hotel was. I knew that the boat we were on would take us down the Grand Canal. I knew our stop was called Academia and that it was located by the third of three bridges across the Grand Canal.
I kept peering out the doors and wiping away the mist from the windows and eventually was pretty sure it was time for us to disembark (neither the driver nor the assistant announce the stops). I was right and we stumbled onto semi-dry land. We stepped hesitantly into the street (walkway) and headed toward the building I was sure the hotel was in. I knew that the Hotel Galleria was located on one floor of the palazzo (palace) directly by the bridge. Logically, this meant there were other businesses or apartments located in the same building -- more than one door. I also knew the building directly fronted the Canal, so that left three other sides of the building where we might find the door. But, there was the door we wanted right in front of us. What a relief! We could get our of the rain, I could dry my hair (absolutely soaked), and maybe we could find dinner!
Venice is terribly expensive. I had really looked to find a hotel that wasn't the most expensive and that would give us the best experience and location for the money. I made the right choice in this case, but expected modest, if not plain and small, rooms. To our delight, the room we received looked out directly on the Grand Canal and was quite large. The ceiling was about 12 feet high and beautifully painted (with serious cracks at no added cost). The furniture was fancy, although a bit beat up. We enjoyed this room -- even if the breakfast was meagre (croissants, rolls, a tiny bit of cheese, coffee).
Dad checked with the receptionist and she recommended a restaurant to us, just a few streets away. By this time it's 7:30 pm. We found the restaurant quite easily (narrow alleys about four feet wide, Momspeak -- "Rick, do you know where you're going? Rick, we can't go in there! Janice, what do we do now?" Dad just kept going and we followed.).
We were disappointed to find that the restaurant was "completo" or full. We didn't have a reservation. They were willing to prepare a couple of small pizzas to take back to our room and we were happy enough with this. But, while we were waiting for the pizzas, a table became available, so we got to eat in style after all. However, by this time, we realized we were way too tired to enjoy a leisurely meal, so we settled for a small serving each of spagetti with salmon. It was delicious.
Let me break into this description of our time in Venice (or Vienna) as Mom and Dad keep mistakenly calling it, to tell you about restaurant meals in Europe. I call these dinners "Meat on a Plate." We've been served German Meatballs (one large finely ground somewhat flattened meat pattie in the middle of a dinner plate, surrounded by a sea of gravy), veal all by itself on a dinner plate, salmon and fish from the Gulf of Liguria on a plate, venison on a plate, deer on a plate, sausage on a plate ... and so on. If there are any vegetables involved (which isn't always), they're served separately or earlier or later. We never get all the food at once or together. Very disorienting.
Last night we had the Gulf fish on a plate served with a huge scoop of mayonnaise. The food is all delicious, but the serving of it is a constant surprise. Another surprise to us is the fact that everything is charged separately, including condiments. McDonalds charges extra for ketchup. The nice restaurant we went to the first night in Venice charged for the bread they had left us on the table. One helpful thing is to order from the Tourist Menu. Really helpful for tired, confused tourists. They give you several options in several courses. You just point to one for each course and you pay one set price for the whole meal. Good system. I'll come back to this later.
Back to Venice. We had a great sleep and after the meagre breakfast headed out for the main sight in town, Piazzo San Marco. Actually, the entire town of Venice is one big sight. There's so much to see and, as Mom kept saying, "It's SO old!" But, most tourists head first to the St. Mark's Basilica and the area around it. You've probably seen all the photos -- pigeons everywhere. One landed on my shoulder. The enormous piazza (or courtyard) is full of tourists, even first thing in the morning. We saw a long, long line of them standing patiently down half the piazza. So, of course, we joined them!
While Mom & Dad held our place, I walked to front to discover that we were waiting to enter (free) the church itself. Good choice! I went back and joined them for a while, and then decided to go and see if I could find tickets for us to tour the Doge's Palazzo next door. This was another good choice.
While Mom and Dad continued to stay in line and fight off the pigeons, I wandered around the palazzo in search of the ticket office. I eventually found it and joined the line-up for tickets -- I hoped. There were no signs and I was just guessing I was in the right place. It's good I went early; when we did enter the palazzo an hour later, the line-up was about four times longer. So I stood in line. And stood. And stood. I kept wondering if I should give up and go back to Mom and Dad. But I stood. Finally, I was one person away from the ticket seller (again, really bad organization). That one person in front of me engaged in a classic, stereotypical Italian exchange. The woman wanted to buy tickets for two adults and three students. The seller explained the students had to have student ID. The woman insisted the seller could use her eyes and see that they were students. The seller waved the printed ticket rules in front of the woman's face. They began to yell at each other. The woman dragged two of her kids to the ticket window and yelled that of course they were students, any fool could tell. The ticket seller yelled at the woman. The ticket seller yelled at her fellow ticket sellers. I simply watched in awe and hoped they wouldn't yell at me.
Finally, it was my turn. I didn't dare ask for seniors' prices! I meekly asked if we could enter at any time (many tourist sights have timed entrances, where you can only enter at the specific time printed on your ticket). The ticket seller was very calm and told me any time today would do. I heaved a sigh of relief, grabbed the tickets and ran back to Mom and Dad, sending pigeons into flight with every step!
This adventure had taken so long, Mom and Dad were first in line many times! We entered the church and were really taken with the spectacular mosaics on the floor (they're very famous), not to mention the rolling floor. It feels as if you're walking on rippled ice. The years of winter flooding and the settling of the subsoil at this part of Venice has given a pronounced roll to the floor. The "peaks" of the floors are about 20 feet apart. It's the most peculiar feeling. Dad keeps wondering about the basic structure of the building. We didn't notice any other problems with the walls or ceilings at this location.
After admiring the church, we headed over to the Doge's Palace and were really impressed with what we saw there. Big, big, big paintings, including the largest canvas painting in the world (by Tintoretto), lots of 24-carat gold ceilings, marble staircases, more paintings (travel writer Rick Steeves calls them wallpaper). Venice in her heyday had a larger city gross product 50% greater than the entire country of France at that time. It was the most powerful political entity in Europe. That was back about 600 years ago.
After all this walking (it was about 45 minutes to and from the piazze and hotel) we headed back to our room for a rest. (Lunch was a sandwich eaten on the cold marble steps of the piazza, again fighting off pigeons.) Walking in Venice is a challenge. There are innumerable canals, crisscrossed by small bridges that are always arched and stepped (hard for Mom). The bridges are always arched in order to accommodate the classic gondolas and other boats. We had hoped to have one of those expensive gondola rides but, after stopping on one bridge to watch them course past (with singing gondoliers!), we decided against it. We could smell a lot of fish. And other things. So, on we walked.
We spent a couple of hours in the afternoon riding the vaporetto -- a great way to view the palazzos -- and getting lost in the back alleys, before riding the vaporetto again. It was a lot of fun.
In the evening, we went back to a square we'd found, Campo San Stefano. It had lots of late afternoon sun and a restaurant that served food on a Monday! Most restaurants are closed Mondays. I can't imagine what they think tourists do on these days. Fast? We had a great meal with live music (accordian, clarinet, & 2 guitars) and headed home to our room where we hung out our windows and watched the boat traffic.
The next morning, we rode the vaporetto like experienced Venetians back to the car park and headed across Italy to the Italian Riviera. We took some back roads and saw rural, pastoral Italy.
At one point, we stopped for lunch in a little trattoria, or cafe. I think it was the Italian equivalent of a truck stop. Mom and I had our first experience with a toilet that was just a hole in the floor. We opened the door, took one look, and hurried back to the table. "We can wait," we told Dad. And we did! That town we discovered later was a walled city built in the 1500's (I looked it up).
Soon after that, we got back onto the Autostrada (big toll highway) where they have much better bathrooms and headed through beautiful hills and mountains to the coast -- where we are now.
The Cinque Terre (five lands) is a very old, very remote part of Italy at the bottom end of the Italian Riviera. These towns were first mentioned in some early Roman writings. They're actually five tiny fishing villages that cling to steep cliffs above the Mediterranean Sea. The big attraction is their remote location, the beautiful coast and the trail that snakes from town to town. They're barely accessible by car. Some of them aren't accessible by car! Need I mention that Mom was seriously traumatized by the drive here? Probably not. I imagine you've noticed the pattern so far.
We're staying in Monterosso al Mare and it took about 20 km of snaky, skinny roads to get here. Sometimes there was room for two cars to pass, sometimes not. Mom's one consolation is that on the way out tomorrow, our car will mostly be on the "inside" side of the road.
This morning, Dad and I planned to take the local train to town number 5 (we're in number 1) and hike at least one or two parts of the trail. Unfortunately, a few minutes after we left the hotel, the skies opened and we had another heavy rain. We gave up on the trails and found this internet cafe instead. Oh well, we've enjoyed wandering this little village, with its crooked streets and very vocal residents.
Just in closing for now, let me tell you about supper last night. Our room includes not only breakfast, but supper as well. We arrived in the dining room on time and were shown to our own table. There was a menu waiting for us ... tourist menu style. Our only problem was twofold: the menu had not a word of English and neither did the waitress. We finally deciphered enough to pick out meat vs fish dishes, but our primary way of choosing our dinner selections was, as Mom says, to close our eyes and put a finger to the list of options ... "I'll have ... that one!" It worked pretty well! The tiramisu (dessert) was fabulous. I think I'll have that again tonight.
Well, we'd better sign off for now. I think I see a little sunshine peeking into this dark hole filled with computers. (This place is so Italy ... the music being played in this internet cafe is loud opera. It's great!)
Love to you all!
Monday, June 4, 2001
Europe #10 - Venice, Italy
We're back! We're in a smoky internet cafe in the Campo San Stefano in the heart of Venice, just a few minutes walk from our hotel on the Grand Canal. However, before we tell you about Venice, let us bring you up to date on our adventures of the last week.
We did find our way home from the internet cafe in Rothenberg that dark night after the concert ... much to Mom's relief. The next morning we went back to St. Jacob's Church for the morning church service. It was a beautiful service, although it was all in German. We didn't understand a word except "Luther" and "Hallelujah." They don't seeme to have any trouble with music styles there; all we heard were very staid, old-style hymns. Not a chorus in sight. However, neither did they seem to sing with much enthusiasm. Nevertheless, we really enjoyed this experience.
Right after the church service, we headed south through more rolling hills and farmland that gradually gave way to much higher hills and deep forests. It reminded us of the New England mountains. We were really impressed with the beautiful homes and cleanliness of the entire countryside. I think maybe they have gremlins come out at night to clean everything up! One thing we noticed is that the farmers all seem to live in tiny villages, rather than on their actual farm land. In one valley you can see several different villages simulaneously. Also, we thought the villages on the hillsides looked much like the villages we all see on the news -- the ones being bombed in Kosovo and Bosnia, etc. It helps us viualize those events more clearly.
Eventually, we found our hotel in the village of Haslach. It turned out to be one of the most creatively decorated places we've ever seen. My room was very romatically decorated with a small canopy. Mom & Dad's looked like a barn! Actually it looked better than that, it's just that there were animals painted on the walls, barn rafters on the ceiling, holes painted on the walls so you could see the farm fields ... it was most creative. Fortunately, this room did not come with aromas and sound effects.
The next morning we continued again south until we reached the border of Germany and Switzerland, at Basel. We had to stop there -- we thought, with excitement, that we'd have to show our passports! -- but, no, they just wanted us to pay a toll in order to use their highways.
At this point in Switzerland, the land is quite level, but soon we were able to see the hills growing higher and before long we were gasping at every turn. Our destination was Gimmelwald, a tiny village on an Alp, high above the valley level in one of the most mountainous parts of Swizerland -- the Berner Oberland.
Gimmelwald is not far from Interlaken, but is so small and remote it's not on most maps. From Interlaken, we drove deeper into the mountains and parked near the end of the valley road in Stechelberg. From there we took a cable car five minutes up the mountain, but it seemed many years back in time. The homes of Gimmelwald cling to the Alp and there's nothing but air between them and the mountain face across the valley.
From the lift, we walked slowly up the hillside on the the only "street" Gimmelwald has (it's a switchback and really only has people, cows and a few small-scale motorized farm vehicles using it -- cars are not permitted on this mountain). We were tired, I didn't really know where our B&B was located, and Mom was traumatized by the cable car. You can imagine how pleased we were to find the B&B, just where it was supposed to be, on the hillside facing the other mountain, with waterfalls tumbling down before us, eagles floating above us, and multitudes of wildflowers below us. What a place!
Our hosts are the school teachers for the village of Gimmelwald. Olle teaches a one-room school of about 17 students. He and his family have lived here about 15 years. That evening he invited us up on the deck behind the chalet to look through his telescope at sheep and wild ibex that were climbing about on the opposite mountain. We could all see the sheep (their white coats stood out against the grass and rocks), but I only think I could see the ibex (they're brown). Dad says he could. Anyway, it was a great experience. We could however clearly see a farmer's summer hut on the mountain with the sheep.
The next morning, after sleeping with the sound of cowbells in our ears, we headed further up the mountain on three different cable cars. Mom was not amused! The second two lifts were across high spurs of the mountain -- lots of air beneath us. It was very, very scary for people afraid of heights, like me! However, we did arrive safely to Piz Gloria, the mountain peak restaurant on the top of the peak called Schilthorn. This is the location of a segment of an early James Bond film, On Her Majesty's Secret Service. We arrived early, in time for the James Bond Champagne Breakfast (although Mom had a delayed reaction from the ride up to the peak -- she was very wobbly).
It was terrific, munching away and watching the spectacular peaks rotate around us. Of course, we were the ones actually rotating. It made me a little carsick and it was hard to find my landlegs after we left the restaurant. The day was really worthwhile in terms of weather. We had perfect blue skies the whole time we were at Schilthorn and in Gimmelwald. I'd started praying about this weather months ago. The Lord has really blessed us on this trip. On most of the important sightseeing days, we've had perfect weather. Most of the downpours we've been in have been on driving days.
After our sky-high breakfast, we returned to another village on the way down. We were hoping to buy some food supplies in Murren since our room at the B&B was actually equipped with a small kitchen. It was amazing; as we walked through town, the stores just closed up in front of us, and it was only 11:30 am. Although this is only a tourist town (no other businesses), we were there during off-season for tourists. We headed back to Gimmelwald and planned to have supper at the local Pension restaurant where we'd eaten the night before.
Mom had had enough walking, so she took the cable car back by herself. Dad and I walked down the Alp, back to Gimmelwald. It was beautiful -- wildflowers and cows! They say it's a 30-minute walk. That's 30 minutes without a camera. For us -- with cameras -- we took about 90 minutes.
Well, for supper we headed down to the pension, only to be told they were booked up and wouldn't be able to feed us until 8:30 pm. This was way too late for us, so we decided to go back and make cheese sandwiches out of the last of our food supplies (we'd brought them with us from the valley). But, wait! We discovered that the lady across the "road" sold bread and eggs. We got one of her last loaves and half a dozen eggs. What a supper we had!
The next morning we went back to the pension for their all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. We met a fellow-Canadian that morning (he lives in Thornhill, just north of Toronto). He was orginally from Germany and shared with us some of his war experiences as a child there. It was just fascinating to hear about his recollections. (Thanks, Armin!)
After three nights with the Heidi on the Alps, we descended to the valley with regret. It was starting to rain!
We turned our car east and headed out of Switzerland and into Lichtenstein. This country is so tiny that we had passed through it and were actually stopped by Austrian customs before we even realized it. However, the Austrian customs agent asked us for our passports. With delight we started rummaging around for them -- we thought we'd finally get to show our passports! He must have thought we were French because of our French car license plate but, when he heard our accents he said, "Americans?" "No, Canadian." And he waved us through. I didn't even manage to get my passport out. Great to be Canadian, but such disappointment! Sometimes we wonder if we're just in another part of Canada we haven't heard about, rather than another continent.
We travelled through many, many mountain valleys and passes. We drove through so many tunnels, we gave up counting them. We guess we passed through at least 30 to 40 tunnels on that one day. One in Switzerland was 5.8 km long. We thought that was something until we drove through one that was just short of 14 km long! Marvelous engineering feats -- each of them.
Our hotel in Austria was in Unterpinswang, a village in the Tirol mountains along the German border. The hotel itself is the biggest we've stayed in so far (65 rooms). It's an old manor house that was stayed in by King Ludwig II of Bavaria himself. This hotel had the best breakfast with everything from cereal and yoghurt to boiled eggs to fresh fruit to breads, cheese, meat, juice and coffee. It was great.
The primary reason for staying in this region was to visit the castles associated with Ludwig. His is a sad story. After his father died in the mid-1800s, Ludwig became king of Bavaria at the age of 19. He seems to have been very much an idealist and a dreamer. Instead of ruling his kingdom, he chose to promote the arts and build castles. The castle Walt Disney used as a model for Cinderella's castle, is Ludwig's greatest accomplishment. The sad part of Ludwig's story is that his advisors had him declared insane when he was in his early 40's and removed him from power. The next day, he drowned in the lake. Suicide or murder? No one's quite sure.
The night we arrived, we went to a sold-out musical on the life of Ludwig. It was very creatively staged. We really enjoyed that aspect of it. Because it was in German, we only knew what was going on by reading the super-titles (short segments of dialogue on screens above the stage). Maybe you have to be German. We just didn't find the musical as gripping as the Germans and Austrians around us did. They hardly stirred in their seats during this long production, but gave a great ovation afterward.
The next morning we headed to Fussen, Germany (just a few minutes away) to tour the castle of Hohenschwangau where Ludwig grew up and Neuschwanstein, his nearby fairytale castle. These were just spectacular, but difficult to reach. You have to park in the valley and climb or take local shuttlebus or horse and carriage transport up the hillsides (more like mountains). Your only other option is to walk/climb. We ended up climbing to Hohenschwangau, the lower of the two. Yeah, Mom! I didn't think she'd make it but she beat off all the mountain hikers with her cane. We took the shuttlebus up to the other castle, which is much higher. However, then you have quite a climb from the bus stop to reach the castle doors, not to mention the 300 steps up and down inside the castle.
The castles themselves were spectacular, although we only saw portions of them. They were very luxurious, filled with beautiful furniture and spectacular paintings. The paintings were not separately hung on the walls, they were the walls. Every available square inch of wall space was painted with leaves and flowers and illustrated themes of German folktales. In Neuschwanstein, Ludwig focused on themes that illustrated the works of his buddy, Richard Wagner. Overall, it was overwhelming. We highly recommend these two castles.
Our second day in Unterpinswang (another cold, rainy day), we drove again into Germany and visited the famous town of Oberammergau. This is the village that has been putting on a massive passion play (the life, death and resurrection of Jesus) once every ten years. Several hundred years ago, they promised the Lord they would do this if He kept the plague away from their village. The plague didn't arrive, but the tourists have. Fortunately for us, this was not one of the "ten" years, so we had no crowds. But we still enjoyed the town; the buildings are covered in paintings. It's quite beautiful. The stores are full of outrageously priced wood carvings. We enjoyed the whole experience immensely, but once is quite enough.
We also visited the nearby Wieskirche, a famous church built in the rococco style. The church is at the end of a road and stands in a meadow full of wildflowers. Although beautiful on the outside, no one can be prepared for the extraodinary interior. The church is full of gilt and pastel-coloured paintings on every surface. Rococco is a style that goes beyond baroque is and chock-full of curlicues and extreme decorations. This church is a perfect example. It is a stunningly beautiful creation. Breathtaking. I'd imagine, though, that it would take one's mind off the morning's sermon. There are some drawbacks to such beauty!
After three nights in Unterpinswang, Austria we headed south to Italy. Pouring rain. Buckets of rain. Heavy wind. Snow! We had it!
We've more to tell you about our trip into Italy and Venice itself, but it's going to have to wait. I'm fading and my stomach is growling. We found a restaurant that's open on Mondays (apparently they don't like to feed tourists on Mondays) and I sure don't want to find it's booked up!
We'll write again as soon as we can.
Love to all. Ciao!
We did find our way home from the internet cafe in Rothenberg that dark night after the concert ... much to Mom's relief. The next morning we went back to St. Jacob's Church for the morning church service. It was a beautiful service, although it was all in German. We didn't understand a word except "Luther" and "Hallelujah." They don't seeme to have any trouble with music styles there; all we heard were very staid, old-style hymns. Not a chorus in sight. However, neither did they seem to sing with much enthusiasm. Nevertheless, we really enjoyed this experience.
Right after the church service, we headed south through more rolling hills and farmland that gradually gave way to much higher hills and deep forests. It reminded us of the New England mountains. We were really impressed with the beautiful homes and cleanliness of the entire countryside. I think maybe they have gremlins come out at night to clean everything up! One thing we noticed is that the farmers all seem to live in tiny villages, rather than on their actual farm land. In one valley you can see several different villages simulaneously. Also, we thought the villages on the hillsides looked much like the villages we all see on the news -- the ones being bombed in Kosovo and Bosnia, etc. It helps us viualize those events more clearly.
Eventually, we found our hotel in the village of Haslach. It turned out to be one of the most creatively decorated places we've ever seen. My room was very romatically decorated with a small canopy. Mom & Dad's looked like a barn! Actually it looked better than that, it's just that there were animals painted on the walls, barn rafters on the ceiling, holes painted on the walls so you could see the farm fields ... it was most creative. Fortunately, this room did not come with aromas and sound effects.
The next morning we continued again south until we reached the border of Germany and Switzerland, at Basel. We had to stop there -- we thought, with excitement, that we'd have to show our passports! -- but, no, they just wanted us to pay a toll in order to use their highways.
At this point in Switzerland, the land is quite level, but soon we were able to see the hills growing higher and before long we were gasping at every turn. Our destination was Gimmelwald, a tiny village on an Alp, high above the valley level in one of the most mountainous parts of Swizerland -- the Berner Oberland.
Gimmelwald is not far from Interlaken, but is so small and remote it's not on most maps. From Interlaken, we drove deeper into the mountains and parked near the end of the valley road in Stechelberg. From there we took a cable car five minutes up the mountain, but it seemed many years back in time. The homes of Gimmelwald cling to the Alp and there's nothing but air between them and the mountain face across the valley.
From the lift, we walked slowly up the hillside on the the only "street" Gimmelwald has (it's a switchback and really only has people, cows and a few small-scale motorized farm vehicles using it -- cars are not permitted on this mountain). We were tired, I didn't really know where our B&B was located, and Mom was traumatized by the cable car. You can imagine how pleased we were to find the B&B, just where it was supposed to be, on the hillside facing the other mountain, with waterfalls tumbling down before us, eagles floating above us, and multitudes of wildflowers below us. What a place!
Our hosts are the school teachers for the village of Gimmelwald. Olle teaches a one-room school of about 17 students. He and his family have lived here about 15 years. That evening he invited us up on the deck behind the chalet to look through his telescope at sheep and wild ibex that were climbing about on the opposite mountain. We could all see the sheep (their white coats stood out against the grass and rocks), but I only think I could see the ibex (they're brown). Dad says he could. Anyway, it was a great experience. We could however clearly see a farmer's summer hut on the mountain with the sheep.
The next morning, after sleeping with the sound of cowbells in our ears, we headed further up the mountain on three different cable cars. Mom was not amused! The second two lifts were across high spurs of the mountain -- lots of air beneath us. It was very, very scary for people afraid of heights, like me! However, we did arrive safely to Piz Gloria, the mountain peak restaurant on the top of the peak called Schilthorn. This is the location of a segment of an early James Bond film, On Her Majesty's Secret Service. We arrived early, in time for the James Bond Champagne Breakfast (although Mom had a delayed reaction from the ride up to the peak -- she was very wobbly).
It was terrific, munching away and watching the spectacular peaks rotate around us. Of course, we were the ones actually rotating. It made me a little carsick and it was hard to find my landlegs after we left the restaurant. The day was really worthwhile in terms of weather. We had perfect blue skies the whole time we were at Schilthorn and in Gimmelwald. I'd started praying about this weather months ago. The Lord has really blessed us on this trip. On most of the important sightseeing days, we've had perfect weather. Most of the downpours we've been in have been on driving days.
After our sky-high breakfast, we returned to another village on the way down. We were hoping to buy some food supplies in Murren since our room at the B&B was actually equipped with a small kitchen. It was amazing; as we walked through town, the stores just closed up in front of us, and it was only 11:30 am. Although this is only a tourist town (no other businesses), we were there during off-season for tourists. We headed back to Gimmelwald and planned to have supper at the local Pension restaurant where we'd eaten the night before.
Mom had had enough walking, so she took the cable car back by herself. Dad and I walked down the Alp, back to Gimmelwald. It was beautiful -- wildflowers and cows! They say it's a 30-minute walk. That's 30 minutes without a camera. For us -- with cameras -- we took about 90 minutes.
Well, for supper we headed down to the pension, only to be told they were booked up and wouldn't be able to feed us until 8:30 pm. This was way too late for us, so we decided to go back and make cheese sandwiches out of the last of our food supplies (we'd brought them with us from the valley). But, wait! We discovered that the lady across the "road" sold bread and eggs. We got one of her last loaves and half a dozen eggs. What a supper we had!
The next morning we went back to the pension for their all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. We met a fellow-Canadian that morning (he lives in Thornhill, just north of Toronto). He was orginally from Germany and shared with us some of his war experiences as a child there. It was just fascinating to hear about his recollections. (Thanks, Armin!)
After three nights with the Heidi on the Alps, we descended to the valley with regret. It was starting to rain!
We turned our car east and headed out of Switzerland and into Lichtenstein. This country is so tiny that we had passed through it and were actually stopped by Austrian customs before we even realized it. However, the Austrian customs agent asked us for our passports. With delight we started rummaging around for them -- we thought we'd finally get to show our passports! He must have thought we were French because of our French car license plate but, when he heard our accents he said, "Americans?" "No, Canadian." And he waved us through. I didn't even manage to get my passport out. Great to be Canadian, but such disappointment! Sometimes we wonder if we're just in another part of Canada we haven't heard about, rather than another continent.
We travelled through many, many mountain valleys and passes. We drove through so many tunnels, we gave up counting them. We guess we passed through at least 30 to 40 tunnels on that one day. One in Switzerland was 5.8 km long. We thought that was something until we drove through one that was just short of 14 km long! Marvelous engineering feats -- each of them.
Our hotel in Austria was in Unterpinswang, a village in the Tirol mountains along the German border. The hotel itself is the biggest we've stayed in so far (65 rooms). It's an old manor house that was stayed in by King Ludwig II of Bavaria himself. This hotel had the best breakfast with everything from cereal and yoghurt to boiled eggs to fresh fruit to breads, cheese, meat, juice and coffee. It was great.
The primary reason for staying in this region was to visit the castles associated with Ludwig. His is a sad story. After his father died in the mid-1800s, Ludwig became king of Bavaria at the age of 19. He seems to have been very much an idealist and a dreamer. Instead of ruling his kingdom, he chose to promote the arts and build castles. The castle Walt Disney used as a model for Cinderella's castle, is Ludwig's greatest accomplishment. The sad part of Ludwig's story is that his advisors had him declared insane when he was in his early 40's and removed him from power. The next day, he drowned in the lake. Suicide or murder? No one's quite sure.
The night we arrived, we went to a sold-out musical on the life of Ludwig. It was very creatively staged. We really enjoyed that aspect of it. Because it was in German, we only knew what was going on by reading the super-titles (short segments of dialogue on screens above the stage). Maybe you have to be German. We just didn't find the musical as gripping as the Germans and Austrians around us did. They hardly stirred in their seats during this long production, but gave a great ovation afterward.
The next morning we headed to Fussen, Germany (just a few minutes away) to tour the castle of Hohenschwangau where Ludwig grew up and Neuschwanstein, his nearby fairytale castle. These were just spectacular, but difficult to reach. You have to park in the valley and climb or take local shuttlebus or horse and carriage transport up the hillsides (more like mountains). Your only other option is to walk/climb. We ended up climbing to Hohenschwangau, the lower of the two. Yeah, Mom! I didn't think she'd make it but she beat off all the mountain hikers with her cane. We took the shuttlebus up to the other castle, which is much higher. However, then you have quite a climb from the bus stop to reach the castle doors, not to mention the 300 steps up and down inside the castle.
The castles themselves were spectacular, although we only saw portions of them. They were very luxurious, filled with beautiful furniture and spectacular paintings. The paintings were not separately hung on the walls, they were the walls. Every available square inch of wall space was painted with leaves and flowers and illustrated themes of German folktales. In Neuschwanstein, Ludwig focused on themes that illustrated the works of his buddy, Richard Wagner. Overall, it was overwhelming. We highly recommend these two castles.
Our second day in Unterpinswang (another cold, rainy day), we drove again into Germany and visited the famous town of Oberammergau. This is the village that has been putting on a massive passion play (the life, death and resurrection of Jesus) once every ten years. Several hundred years ago, they promised the Lord they would do this if He kept the plague away from their village. The plague didn't arrive, but the tourists have. Fortunately for us, this was not one of the "ten" years, so we had no crowds. But we still enjoyed the town; the buildings are covered in paintings. It's quite beautiful. The stores are full of outrageously priced wood carvings. We enjoyed the whole experience immensely, but once is quite enough.
We also visited the nearby Wieskirche, a famous church built in the rococco style. The church is at the end of a road and stands in a meadow full of wildflowers. Although beautiful on the outside, no one can be prepared for the extraodinary interior. The church is full of gilt and pastel-coloured paintings on every surface. Rococco is a style that goes beyond baroque is and chock-full of curlicues and extreme decorations. This church is a perfect example. It is a stunningly beautiful creation. Breathtaking. I'd imagine, though, that it would take one's mind off the morning's sermon. There are some drawbacks to such beauty!
After three nights in Unterpinswang, Austria we headed south to Italy. Pouring rain. Buckets of rain. Heavy wind. Snow! We had it!
We've more to tell you about our trip into Italy and Venice itself, but it's going to have to wait. I'm fading and my stomach is growling. We found a restaurant that's open on Mondays (apparently they don't like to feed tourists on Mondays) and I sure don't want to find it's booked up!
We'll write again as soon as we can.
Love to all. Ciao!
Friday, June 1, 2001
Europe #9 - Unter Pinswang, Austria
Well, we're still on the go.
This is just a quick note to let you know that we've survived the deep, dark Black Forest, Heidiland and are now in Austria in a teeny, tiny village.
This morning we toured two castles. Our knees may never be the same. Upstairs, downstairs, up trails, down trails, in the shuttlebus, out of the shuttlebus. Yikes!
We only have time to send this quick message because we're using the hotel manager's office computer. He's been really kind and helpful to us. You should all come and stay at his hotel, Gutshof zum Schluxen! Will write as soon as we have adequate computer time.Venice is the day after tomorrow!!
This is just a quick note to let you know that we've survived the deep, dark Black Forest, Heidiland and are now in Austria in a teeny, tiny village.
This morning we toured two castles. Our knees may never be the same. Upstairs, downstairs, up trails, down trails, in the shuttlebus, out of the shuttlebus. Yikes!
We only have time to send this quick message because we're using the hotel manager's office computer. He's been really kind and helpful to us. You should all come and stay at his hotel, Gutshof zum Schluxen! Will write as soon as we have adequate computer time.Venice is the day after tomorrow!!
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