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Tena is Hot and Humid

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July, 2012

Friday-Banos to Tena

Breakfast was included with our room, and it came with good, delicious coffee for a change.  Not Nescafé.  Also a glass of some sort of red juice that we couldn’t identify, but that tasted yummy.  Their idea of a pancake, however, is what we call a tortilla, and mine came filled with fresh pineapple, strawberries, cantaloupe, and watermelon.  My favorite kind of breakfast.  We checked out and the total was $55.   

We took a taxi to the bus station and found out how to get a bus to Tena.  Had to wait a while, but Ron found a couple from Calgary to chat with.  The bus was late, the first delay we have experienced, but soon we were on our way.  The buses are comfortable, the seats recline, and on any ride long enough they show a movie.  The other day we saw “Desperado” with Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek, and today “Pulp Fiction” was playing.  The sights out the window were more interesting than the movie, though.  

The bus route follows the course of the river, but winds along a serpentine road, through mountain tunnels, rocking back and forth so that my iPad screen keeps switching views.  I almost killed Ron trying to give him a bite of banana.  He had his mouth open and I held the banana up just as the bus lurched around a curve and the banana disappeared down his throat!  He has adopted the little camera and is snapping shots like crazy.  He loves digital, but between the photos I take, the ones he takes, and the ones we downloaded from Bills camera, we easily have over a thousand shots so far. 

We noticed that the people in the Oriente province that we have seen are taller and thinner than the people around Imbabura.  Wonder why?  Also, we saw a lot more men smoking in Ambato.  maybe the city folks have more money than the people in the country or small towns do.  But there are some things that just seem unusual to us.  For instance, in the bus stations, they have people yelling, “Quito, Quito, Quito,” or “Puyo, Tena” rather than loudspeakers making announcements like we are used to. After a long bus ride (the last hour of which some woman’s stomach was pressing on my shoulder shoving me into Ron who was by the window because she and a bunch of others had to stand up for lack of seats) we finally pulled into Tena.  

OMG!  The worst bus station yet. Crumbling concrete benches, no restrooms at all, people selling food all over the place (there are apparently no sanitation standards in Ecuador), and grubby little children trying to entertain themselves by climbing on some abandoned pipe structure.  The guidebook says that the bus station is in the less attractive part of town and not to be put off by first impressions.  Oops, too late.   

At least La Casa del Abuelo is a nice, clean, welcoming hostel.  Has a patio, AC, wifi, and TV.  The beds are comfortable, and if we have to just stay in this room until time to leave tomorrow, then that’s what we will do. Unfortunately, a bunch of other Americans thought this was the place to stay, and they were in the room next door.  At 2:30 am, the baby woke up.  They must have been trying to get him to give up his bottle because he screamed like Willie used to when we were trying to wean him.  He would scream for 10 minutes, quiet down for 2 minutes, then scream for another 10 minutes.  This went on for about an hour before they finally shut him up.  Then the dogs started barking.   

Breakfast was another surprise.  This time it was lukewarm water, instant coffee and eggs I didn’t order.  Soon the young man brought some boiling hot water, and some hot milk, so eventually we got a halfway decent cup of coffee after I poured two other attempts on the potted plants.   After breakfast we walked across the bridge to Cafe Tortuga where we had heard they had a bus schedule.  Sure enough, we found that there was a bus to Quito at 10:00.  Grabbed a cab to the bus station and didn’t have to wait long for the bus.  Ron made a gallant effort to ask the bus driver if there was a place we could get off and catch a bus to Otavalo without having to go all the way to the Quitumbe (southern) terminal.  We thought he understood, but weren’t sure.  Happily, four young American students got on the bus, and we talked to them for the length of their ride.  One of them spoke fluent Spanish and so Ron asked him to ask the driver where we could get the Otavalo bus, so we were sure that the driver understood and would tell us where to get off.   

So you know, of course that they didn’t stop and let us off anywhere, but continued on to the station an hour across Quito.  Ron was steaming.  However, the bus drivers assistant was so sweet – he went with us into the station and even went upstairs to the tickets windows to make sure these demented old people who couldn’t understand Spanish could get on the damned bus to Otavalo.  Bought tickets and only had to wait 20 minutes for the bus.  The worse part of the trip home was the bus from Otavalo to Cotacachi.  One bus was pulling out when we paid our taxi driver, so Ron ran and caught it, barely stopping it in time for me to climb ungracefully on board.  There were no more seats on the bus, so we had to stand, until enough people got off and freed up some seats.   It is funny how a place you have been in only two weeks can seem so familiar and welcoming.  Strolling down Leather Street felt known and comforting after four days away.

Weavers’ Museum

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Ecuador

Published 07/28/2012

On Friday, I almost wanted to just stay home, but Ron said that if we didn’t go back to Paguche and climb up to the top of the falls I would definitely regret it.  So I packed my collapsible cane and off we went.  This time we took the bus to Otavalo and then asked where we could get a bus to Paguche.  It was just across the street from the big bus station, and we only had to wait about 10 minutes.  The bus dropped us off right at the gate to the falls.  Since we had been there before we knew where we were going.  The first time we went we were surprised that so few people were there.  Well, not today!  There were at least four school buses and the place was jumping with hundreds of kids.  We found the path going up and I got my cane ready.  It was about a 200 foot climb to the top, and I made it.  Some great pictures from up there.  By the time we started down, all the kids were starting up.  They were so cute, though.  They all said “buenas Dias” or “hello.”. One young man stopped us and asked where we were from and said “Welcome to my country.” I doubt if American kids would do that.

We walked down the road to the bus stop and waited for a bus to come by.  Soon enough one came toward us.  I asked the driver if he was going to Otavalo and he said “Si, si.” when we arrived at the bus terminal Ron whipped out his little Otavalo map and we headed for the main square.  We thought there would be restaurants around the square.  There usually are, but not this time.  We had to walk up and down a few streets before we found a good place.   After a very nice lunch topped off with fresh strawberries and cream, we set off to find the museum of the weavers. 

Of all the things we have seen and done in Ecuador, this may have been the most enjoyable.  First, the entrance did not look like a museum, it looked like a restaurant or cafe.  Off to the far right of the path was a small door that said “Museo.”I opened the door but it looked like a storeroom or something.  I ducked back out and I guess I must have looked puzzled because the woman outside waved me on and nodded vigorously saying “Si, Si.”We ventured on and crossed a courtyard to another old, rickety door.  When we opened that one it was obvious that this large room contained old artifacts having to do with wool, spinning, and weaving. Before we could get our bearings an old indigenous man came in.  He started talking to us, but soon realized that we spoke only “poco Espanol.” He was very considerate and patient.  He spoke slowly and watched us carefully to see if we were getting was he was telling us.  He explained how the sheep are sheared, then the wool is washed.  He sat down and took a handful of wool and demonstrated the carding process.  After he had the wool carded and rolled into a long strand, he went over to the spinning wheel and spun it into yarn.  We went all around the room, from station to station with him telling us what was done at each stage.  I shot video of him at several spots.  Finally he showed us a magazine with a photo of his son who is a professor of neuroscience in California.  Another son was shown shaking hands with Fidel when he was in Ecuador, but we didn’t get what this sons occupation is.  He was obviously very proud of them.  Before we left, he led us over to a framed certificate, embellished with gold, and displaying a medal on a ribbon.  He made it clear that he was awarded the medal, but we don’t know for what.  We made a contribution to the museum, or to Señor Maldonado, and left, feeling that we had experienced a truly special treat.

Mud Massage

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Published 07/27/2012

On Thursday we decided to go back to Chachimbiro for a massage and the thermal pools.  It is a trek to get there, though.  First is a 45 minute bus to Ibarra, then a 30 minute bus to Urququi, then a $6.00 taxi ride up to Sacre Aqua. But this time we found where to go to pay for a massage, and only had to wait a few minutes for my therapist to be ready.  She told me to take my suit off down to the waist and lie on the table face down.  I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could tell she was using oil or something.  Then she used hand gestures to indicate I should turn over. Well, I am accustomed to the very modest ways of Massage Envy, not the customs of a country where women just pull up their blouses and nurse their babies anywhere, no matter how many people are around.  This time there was no sheet at all.  It was strange, but when in Rome or in Ecuador, you just go with it.  I just kept my eyes closed, and she finished the massage with my face.  When she told me to get up, I opened my eyes and saw that I was covered in a reddish-yellow mud.  she told me to sit in the sun for 10 minutes and then go rinse off in the shower.  Ron took pictures, and after I was no longer brown we went into the jacuzzi.

We spent several hours soaking in the various pools, had our lunch that we had prepared, then left to wait for the bus back to Ibarra.  Just down the road that leads to the place where the buses park were a couple of little stores and a concrete bench to sit on.  We parked ourselves there with our bags.  Soon two little girls came walking up and talked to an older girl, probably their sister, who seemed to be watching the shop and also watching a baby who was strapped into a tricycle/stroller gizmo.  One of the little girls came over to me and pointed to my camera.  I took her picture and showed it to her.  Her eyes lit up and she started pointing to her sisters, so I framed the shot, then took her hand and put her finger on the button and pushed it down.  Then showed her the picture.  We yelled “you did it!” She was delighted.

We took pictures of all of them and she was practically in my lap by that time.  We told them we had to go to the bus, so said goodbye.  However, when we got to the bus he wasn’t ready to go yet so we had to wait some more.  Sure enough, here they came again.  This time they had some little packets of powdered candy.  Looked like Kool-Aid.  The more friendly of the girls grabbed my hand, turned it palm up and poured some in my palm.  God, it was awful tasting stuff, bur I didn’t let her see me toss it on the ground.  In a few minutes, she ran back and gave me another portion.  Ron remembered that we had some candy in our bag, so I got that out and gave it to them.  Now we were friends forever.  When the bus started up, they both shouted “Ciao, ciao,” and we blew kisses to them.  Great moment!

Discovering China

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Published 03/28/2012

My daughter, Nancy,  and her husband, Mike, gave me a trip to China for my 70th birthday.  Wow!  What an amazing thing to do.  Of course, someone had to go with me, so Nancy volunteered.  In spite of her concern about not being able to sleep because of my snoring, she signed us up for a 10-day trip to Shanghai, Xi’an, and Beijing with Friendly Planet.  We left the night of March 26th and returned on April 5th.  I have traveled quite a bit, but this was by far the most relaxed and educational trip ever.  Being with this tour and its excellent staff, we felt safe and secure, and the itinerary covered so much that we never would have seen otherwise.

One of the first impressions we had was that a lot of the things we had been told about China were just not true.  We expected the cities to be so smoggy that possibly we would be issued masks by the tour guides.  As you can see by the photos, that is simply not true. It was cold and windy some days, but no matter where we went, there was little if no smog.

Another concern had been that everywhere we went there would be a lot of second-hand smoke.  We expected the Chinese to be smoking everywhere – in elevators, in restaurants, in parks.  Not true.  Of course, there are a lot of Chinese who do smoke, but not in public.  The rickshaw drivers smoked while waiting for customers, and our bus driver smoked while he waited for us to return to the bus.  But, in general, we did not have any problem with cigarette smoke.

We arrived in Beijing’s modern international airport with welcoming shops and restaurants.  The signs were all in Chinese and English, so we had no problem finding our gate, the restrooms, or a beverage.  There were no pictures of Chairman Mao, although all the souvenir shops sold copies of his “Little Red Book.”  We did not stay in Beijing at this time, but caught a plane to Shanghai to begin our tour.

Shanghai was a city of hi-rises.  Coming in over the city, it looked like Alex had been playing with his legos, just building tower after tower and he would never run out of blocks.  I cannot imagine that there is enough concrete in the world to build all those buildings.  Of course, the skyline is what you always see, with that huge onion-topped tower – the Oriental Pearl Tower – dominating everything.  Nancy and I opted out of the tour of the city on the last day we were there, preferring to explore on our own.  Unfortunately, it poured rain the whole day, we couldn’t get a taxi to take us back to the hotel, and we got soaked and exhausted.  But, the rain prevented the people on the tour from seeing anything from the Pearl Tower, so we didn’t miss anything!  

During the Shanghai portion of the tour we went to Suzhou, the silk capital of China.  Originally the beginning of the silk road, Suzhou is a lovely little town of about 4 million.  (4 million is a small city in China!)  We toured the silk factory, had a tour of the city’s canal in a quaint little boat, and were treated to a dumpling dinner and a performance by talented dancers and musicians.  We went to the Embroidery Institute and saw an art form I had never seen before.  Of course we all know what embroidery is, but until you see the skill demonstrated by the Masters at the Institute, you have no idea.  First of all, the stitches are done in fine, fine silk threads and not one of us could imagine how small the needle must be and how in the dickens one threads such a needle.  Here is a photo of one of the pieces that looks like a photograph itself.

Next post will be Xi’an, the site of the Terra Cotta Warriors.      

Terra Cotta Warriors

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Published April 1, 2012

Our next stop on the tour was Xi’an where in 1974, a farmer digging a well discovered some pottery shards.  Excavation began and altogether over 7,000 pottery soldiers, horses, chariots, and even weapons have been unearthed from these pits.  Many have been restored, but there is still a lot of work to do to uncover the entire army built by Qin Shi Huang, the first Emperor of China.  The figures were buried with the emperor in 210–209 BC and their purpose was to protect the emperor in his afterlife, and to make sure that he had people to rule over.

Nancy and I particularly enjoyed walking along the city wall, the largest intact city wall in the world.  Below the wall, the moat around the old city is still pleasant to walk along.  Had it not been late in the afternoon, we would have rented bikes and biked around the old city, all 9 miles of the wall.  Maybe next time.

An optional tour was a dumpling dinner and Tang Dynasty show, one of the most popular entertainments in Xi’an.  It was featured on Samantha Brown’s tour of China on the Travel Channel.  The dumplings were delicious and we must have had over a dozen varieties – the ones shaped like chickens contained chicken, the ones that looked like little fish, were made with fish, of course.  One variety was very, very spicy hot, and Nancy and one other member of our group ate all the ones given to our table – they were too hot for everyone else!  The show was phenomenal.  I loved the costumes and the scenery.  The performers were excellent.  Here are two photos:

Xi’an was our favorite city.  They say it’s small because it only has 8 million people.  

Next stop, Beijing.

Beijing

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Published April 3, 2012

Last stop, Beijing, known in my childhood as Peking.  The name for the city has changed, but not the name for the famous dish, Peking Duck.  I loved Beijing.  It is like other international cities – lots of fabulous shopping, great museums, crazy traffic, a sense that life is moving forward.  Friendly Planet had a lot planned for us to see, and since Sam, our guide, lives in Beijing, he was also our local guide.

One of our first stops was the Forbidden City, with its 9,999 rooms.  When we returned home, I watched “The Last Emperor,” the story of Pu Li, the last emperor to live in the Forbidden City.  The story made the Forbidden City come alive for me, since when we saw it, the only people inhabiting the city were tourists – mostly Chinese.  If I were to go back, I would like to have time to sign up for a tour with a guide that would show me more than we were able to explore in our short visit.  I am looking for a video tour of the Forbidden City, so if anyone comes across one, let me know.

Also that day we saw Tian’an Men Square, the site of Chairman Mao’s Mausoleum.  His embalmed body is on display mornings and afternoons, but we did not have time to go through the line waiting to pay their respects.  What I did not expect was the size of the square.  We were supposed to walk from one end of the square to the focal point, the Gate of Heavenly Peace where the portrait of Mao hangs and have our group portrait taken.  Some of the wussy members of our group refused to walk that distance because of the cold and the wind whipping across the expanse of the square.  Sam quickly adjusted to the desires of the group and arranged for our picture to be made in front of the Hall of the People, only halfway across the square.  This was the only time that there was any indication that we were in a communist country.  Sam had instructed us not to have conversations about the 1989 Massacre.  He said there were undercover police in the square and we could find ourselves in trouble if they overheard us talking about something that, officially, never happened.  The government’s position is that the tragedy of the student demonstrations was simply a media event.  That the press “made it all up.”

In his book, Oracle Bones, Peter Hessler describes his visit to Tian’An Men Square.

          “After a while, I began to notice that some people in the crowd didn’t look like tourists.  They were men, usually in their thirties and forties, and many of them had crew cuts.  They were not well dressed: worn trousers, cheap windbreakers.  They did not look educated.  They did not look like they were enjoying themselves – they weren’t smiling, or taking pictures, or buying souvenirs.  They loitered and lingered; they lurked and looked.  They dawdled.  Sometimes, a man would stand directly behind a group of talking tourists, as if trying to overhear their conversation.  Periodically, one of the crew-cut men sauntered over to another crew-cut man, said something, and then sauntered away.  Several held rolled up newspapers.  I saw one man raise his newspaper, hold it next to his face, and speak to it.  Curious, I walked past and took a furtive look.  Inside the rolled paper, I caught a glimpse of black plastic – walkie-talkie.” (p. 59)

The following day we went to Badaling, 44 miles northwest of Beijing, to view the Great Wall.  Compare the photo from my climb on the wall to other pictures you’ve seen in magazines and brochures.  They generally show two or four people walking some distance in front of the camera.  That is not what I saw.

While in Beijing we saw a Jade Factory and a Pearl Factory, both of which were interesting because, I very rarely, if ever, have seen any product being made in the U.S.  What about you?  Have you visited factories in your hometown or on any of your travels to see how different products are made?  That is something we need to institute in our country and let people be proud of things that are “made in America.”

Other sites included in our tour of Beijing were the Ming Tombs and the Temple of Heaven.  There is so much history in China, a four-year degree would barely enable you to learn about all that we saw.  A favorite excursion was the Hutong tour via rickshaws.  Though Beijing is a modern city, a visit to the alleyways shows the charm of old Beijing.   The hutongs, created by the walls of courtyard houses, were the residences of officials and the well-to-do, although now most are state-owned. Our rickshaws wove in and out of narrow streets, revealing shops of every description, restaurants, bars, and houses.  Suddenly we came upon an open space beside a lake where people were walking their children and their dogs, cruising in paddle boats, and enjoying an ice cream on this leisurely afternoon.  I could have stayed the whole day there just soaking up the feeling of actually being in the middle of a place I’ve dreamed about since I was a child and watched my mother read Pearl S. Buck’s books about China.  She looked so enraptured, I wanted to feel that way.

The grounds around the Temple of Heaven are a gathering place for people to exercise, to play mahjong or other games, and to just hang out with their friends.  I shot a video of people line dancing and one of several men passing a ball around with a racquet, never letting the ball leave their racquet until they gracefully tossed it to their partner.  There were, again, so many people gathered in one place we felt a bit uneasy.  Americans are simply not accustomed to so many bodies sharing the same space.  But it made me so happy to see all these people smiling, having a good time, spending time with friends outside in the sunshine.  I wish we did more of that sort of thing in our country.  Many of our gatherings, like mornings in the park, are focused on the children, not on the adults.

Friendly Planet saved the best for last; we visited a village just outside Beijing and had dinner with a host family.  We learned much about the history of the village from our delightful tour guide, who lives there, and had a tai chi lesson from a master.  He was so beautiful to watch.  It must take years and years to master those movements.  This village is known for its hand-carved furniture and we were treated to a tour of a working shop.  Then we went to the home of our hosts for the best meal we had on the entire trip.  The wife taught us how to make dumplings, but, of course, she made 99% of them since we were so slow!  There were many other dishes and the husband did most of the cooking. They were so friendly and gracious – they truly made us feel like honored guests.

I hope I have another opportunity to visit China.  We saw only a small percentage of the country – there is a lot more to see and learn.

There are photographs from our trip on my flickr site: santanartist

Summer Trip 2010

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Published 09/31/2010

We had a great trip to the midwest. I want to go back! We flew into Cincinnati, rented a car, drove to Bethel, Ohio, to Bill and Verda’s house, and left the next morning on a ramble up to Lake Michigan. We started out with a delicious brunch prepared by Verda’s cousin, Gary, at his beautiful home outside Cincinnati. Then we departed for French Lick and to see the resort at West Baden Springs. We stopped that first night at Salem, Indiana, and stayed at a lovely B&B named Laning House. Mrs. Hart was our gracious hostess, and we had the entire annex to ourselves for $65 per couple! Living room, dining room, kitchen, two bedrooms and two baths! We highly recommend the Laning 

House if you are ever in Salem. The next morning we saw the amazing West Baden Springs resort and played the slots at French Lick. 

That night we stayed in Bloomington, Indiana. What a neat college town that is! Verda and I went into Buffalouie’s for wings, and while we were there we were talking to the owner. During our conversation, he stopped to welcome George Taliaferro, the first African-American to be drafted into the NFL. George played for the 1945 IU football team. I had the pleasure of talking with George for several minutes and he told me the story of how he used to peer through the window of that restaurant at his picture on the wall, but wasn’t allowed to come in because he was black. Now that same picture resides in a place of honor in Assembly Hall. We toured the campus the next morning and went to the library to use their computers. In the afternoon we headed north for the southern shore of Lake Michigan and stayed in Chesterton. The following pictures are of this first part of our trip.

Exploring Italy

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Published April, 2007

I recently found an old journal with entries from our trip to Italy in April, 2007.  

Our friends from Alexandria, Virginia, joined my husband and me for a two-week tour of Italy with Untours.  I would recommend this company to folks who like to travel and explore on their own, but with backup whenever necessary.  Untours booked us into a fairy-tale farmhouse in Tuscany within a short driving distance of many of the towns that would be on your must-see list.  The accommodations were excellent, the people we met were congenial, the food was so good Ron was talking about it years later. Of course, it was impossible to take a bad photo in such a spectacular setting.  Untours provided us a car, some escorted tours, a welcoming dinner, and a concierge with help or answers to any questions we had. After a week in Tuscany, we spent a week on the Amalfi coast.  Finally, we went on our own to Rome, then home. 

My little journal starts with a description of a day in Florence.

Drove to Florence and parked at the free parking lot – Piazzale Michaelangelo. Walked down the hill and along the Arne river to the Uffizzi Museum. Got in without standing in line since Verda had made reservations.  Museum was disappointing. Too much Jesus, and dark, depressing paintings. Did like the Rembrandts and the Goyas. The weather was hot and humid – miserable! I was soaked. 

After the Uffizzi we looked for the restaurant that Ken recommended, but couldn’t find it. Ended up going in a restaurant where lunch cost us $100 for the 4 of us. (Note: in 2025, that would be about average for 4 people without wine or beer.) Verda and I shared fried zucchini flowers which were super.  Had salad and roasted potatoes.  Bill had a $24 liver entree, and Verda had sautéed spinach which was good. Don’t remember what Ron ordered, probably potatoes.

After lunch we went to the Galleria Dell’ Accademia to visit David up close and personal. The city is chock full of Davids. He greets you at every turn and come in a multitude of sizes in every gift shop. He was meant to be mere decoration of the Cathedral of Florence, commissioned as were so many works of that period  by the church.

The block of marble that would eventually become David was quarried in Carrara. It was transported to Florence and entrusted to another sculptor who accomplished nothing but damage to it.  It sat for many years waiting for the hands of Michelangelo.  He is everything they say he is.  

Left the Academy and took a taxi back up the hill to the car and drove home. Long ride home  in the dark.  Warmed up pizza, made salad, had salami and cheese, and cookies for dinner. Everyone took a PM and went to bed.

Saturday – market in Buonconvento, from the Latin “bonus conventus” which means “happy place.” Cute, cute little town! Walked up and down and bought shrimp, broccoli/cauliflower, green beans, garlic, onion, potatoes and eggplant. Were waited on by a darling little girl named Angela. She was so engaging and wanted to converse with us to practice her English.

We took the food back to the apartment, then headed for Montelcino. Loved it! If you want to step back in time to the 9th century, you won’t find a better example than Montelcino.  Known in the past for its exceptional leather goods, it is primarily famous now for its Brunello wine.  Verda bought a bottle, even though it is seriously expensive, for her daughter’s anniversary.  We stopped at a bar – the Belvedere – and had yummy lunch. I had insalada Caprese which is mozzarella, fresh tomatoes, basil, good olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Ron had good bread toasted with a piece of prosciutto on top, with artichoke hearts and melted mozzarella over all.  He loved it!

Bought granddaughter Ella an adorable little Italian leather purse – she will be so excited! Also bought 2 little watercolors of Tuscany to frame at home. (And they are still hanging in my bathroom.)

Sunday – Bill is a turtle enthusiast and had discovered a sanctuary within driving distance.  Apparently, hundreds of parents allowed their kids to get a little red slider turtle during the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle craze.  Eventually the children lost interest and many, many turtles were dumped into British waterways.  A charity paid for 800 turtles to be gathered up and flown to a sanctuary in Italy. Of course, Bill was anxious to visit this place, so we set out to find it and, after driving a good ways toward the coast, we found the place. It had been closed for two years! Such a disappointment.

So we went on to Fallonica, situated right on the water.  We parked and walked through town. Stopped at a cafe to get coffee and the woman inside had a signed photo of Rafael Nadal, my tennis idol! She had other pictures and newspaper articles about him on the wall behind the counter. She said he had come into the cafe once.  We didn’t speak the same language but could communicate quite well when it came to our love of Rafa!

We walked down to the water and Ron took off his shoes to say he had waded in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Later, we drove to Volterra, the setting for the Twilight books. Traveled the twistiest road we had been on yet. It took much longer than we had expected to get there, but Tuscany is so beautiful, you don’t mind. Volterra was a great little town. It is the birthplace of Pope Linus. Linus was entrusted with his office by the apostles Peter and Paulafter they had established the Christian church in Rome. Very pleasant little town – I bought alabaster souvenirs just before the downpour began.  We left and headed for Siena and home.

Dinner was potatoes, green beans, the rest of the broc/cauliflower, and I had the remainder of the tortelinni.  Slept like Katie!

Monday –

Went first to San Giovanni d’Asso, a tiny town with only 100 residents, but couldn’t find a place to park the car, so drove on to Pienza. It is the birthplace of Pope Pius II, and the name was changed from Corsignano to Pienza which means city of Pius. Because it is a World Heritage Site, it is a bit more upscale than some of the other towns in Tuscany. 

Tuesday –

Last full day here.  Went to Siena – great city. So-so-so much better than Florence. The parking was easy. Walked to the “Campo” where they run the Paseo- something I wish we could have seen. If I ever came back to Siena, I would plan it for the running of the Paseo. Must be auite the experience. We found a table at an outdoor cafe even thought the plaza was crowded with tourists.  Vendors were set up throughout the plaza and we couldn’t resist the scarves. We bought quite a few to take home.

The Duomo is the most amazing building! Bought lots of postcards since there is no way to properly photograph the immense space. Truly fascinating. The ceiling in one room is entirely gold.  On the way down fro the Duomo we stopped and had pizza to hold us over til dinner, then went shopping. I found a shoe store with shoes on sale. I bought a pair of bone colored loafers. Too bad we can’t take some pecorino cheese home for Kathy and Steve.

Wednesday – 

Left La Canonica about 9:00 headed for the Amalfi coast. Long drive on the A-1 – crazy Italian drivers all thinking they’re competing in an F-1 race. Stopped at an Autogrill for a picnic lunch. Thanks to Verda we had sandwiches. Ron bought a baguette for 1 euro.

Arrived at Agerola and asked directions for the street where the internet point was.  (This was back when there were beginning to be internet cafes, but not personal computers with internet capabilities.) Found it and it turned out it was run by Giovanna’s husband, Pasquale. He spoke excellent English and he led us to the house. Climbed down about a hundred stairs to a lovely house perched on the side of the mountain overlooking the sea.  Breathtaking view. Inside they had even left some of the rock exposed.  Two bedrooms with double beds, nice bathroom, and a washing machine. Made pasta with pesto and a salad for dinner. Ron made eggs and potatoes. It was hard to go inside and leave the iconic view of the Amalfi coast.  You’ve all seen those pictures – houses defying gravity to perch on the side of the mountain. It is so beautiful I wish everyone could spend just one day and night trying to appreciate the genius of those who built on this coastline.

Thursday – 

Had to turn the car in today in Sorrento, so went to Pompeii first. So crowded driving was insane! Finally got there and parked. Walked around the site but lots of things weren’t open. Kind of disappointing. We’re getting jaded, I guess. Had a snack at a little place just outside the gates. I had bruschetta and it was awful. Drove to Sorrento and turned the car in, then walked to the train station to catch the bus.

After asking twice and searching, we finally found the station. Bought tickets to Amalfi. There was only one seat left on the bus, but a young man from Ireland whose Mama had raised him right gave us his seat and Ron and Bill stood up til we got to Positano.  Scary ride but on a crowded bus you couldn’t see enough to be terrified. Hard to get good photos from a moving bus going around one S curve after another. Everyone got off at Amalfi. We had to change buses and take the one to Agerola. We had just missed one bus and had to wait for the next one at 9:00 pm. We were so tired, hungry and overstimulated. Made it to Furore and found some other people who were walking to their apartment and discovered they were from Charlotte. Got to our house, made sandwiches and went to bed. I know it sounds like we ate nothing but sandwiches, but we usually had our lunch at a restaurant and ate a lighter supper.

Friday –

Got up a bit later today. Took the 10:15 bus down to Amalfi and bought tickets for the ferry to Positano. Had an enjoyable boat ride with spectacular views to photograph. Got off and found a neat bar on the water. I had bruschetta and Ron had salami and mozzarella panini. Then we hiked up to the bus stop to get the bus back to Amalfi. We had some time in Amalfi so walked around a bit and I had a gelato. Then went to a cafe where Ron had a beer. The Agerola bus came and Bill and Verda were on it! Funny how often that happens.

Made spaghetti for dinner. Ron had gnocchi and mushy peas.

Saturday – 

Caught the bus up the street again to Amalfi and were planning to go to Capri, but it cost $120 just to get there and back. So Ron and I opted to take the ferry to Salerno which was wonderful. There were maybe a dozen people on the boat and I could sit by the window, put my feet up and snap pictures. Salerno is a normal town where real people live and work, so we found a department store where we bought Faye some shoes, and a little shop where we got her a cute little hat. Still have to find something for Mike for his birthday. Had a little snack of horrible coffee and french fries and potato croquettes with little bits of ham and cheese in them. I had a granito de limon in Amalfi which was so good! The best drink yet. Just like Steve’s margarita machine, but with lemonade. Ron had a little Amalfi cake – sponge cake with lemon flavored whipped cream that was superb. 

We went to the Maritime Museum which was really interesting. Found out the symbol for Amalfi in the regatta is a golden unicorn. Tried to find one for Kathy but no luck.

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That’s the end of my notes.  It’s a good thing I didn’t write any more because after our idyllic stay in Amalfi, we continued on to Rome. My advice to anyone going to Italy is to skip Rome altogether.  You’ve seen all the pictures and scenes in movies anyway.  Our rooms were awful – could barely fit 2 people in the room and couldn’t turn around in the shower.  It was hot and humid, so I was miserable. The line for the Coliseum was miles long, so we skipped it. We did go to the Vatican and marveled at the riches displayed there.  Seeing the Sistine Chapel so close was worth the whole trip.  True to his nature, Ron insisted that we walk back to our little nook. I tried, but simply gave out even with frequent stops.  He finally grabbed a taxi, thank goodness.  Rome was so crowded and so expensive that we were happy to leave.  

If I were asked what to do in Italy, I would recommend a week in Tuscany, and even that might not be enough time. We weren’t able to squeeze in the Cinque Terra, something I would devote at least three days to if I could.  And next time, I would ferry across to Sicily, if only to see where the Mafia originated. Instead of Rome, I would add Milan for the fashion and Venice for the canals. And, then, if I had a whole month to explore, I would experience Naples.

First Trip to Europe

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Published Mar 29, 2007

When I was a little girl, my mother enrolled me in an educational program from the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art.  They sent a packet of information each month about different art museums in the world and the works of art that could be seen in them.  I pored over these materials for hours, and carefully, so carefully, put the stickers in my booklet in their little frames.  My favorite was the “Winged Victory of Samothrace.”There was something about her power and grace that spoke to me.  I imagined myself transported from my little room in Selma, Alabama, to Paris, to the Louvre, and standing in front of her.  And then, over the years, I forgot about that dream.

Many, many years later when the children were grown and we had more time, we started investigating the possibility of more travel.  And, by then, we had the internet.  I was able to investigate sites like Travelzoo that searches out great travel deals and sends them to you in an email each week.  I happened to see an entry for “European Destinations,” which offers packages that include airfare, accommodations and, sometimes, ground transportation or connections when necessary.  For example, in 2007, this was available: Fly to Rome, spend 2 nights, take the Eurostar train to Florence, spend 2 nights in Florence, take the train to Venice, spend 2 nights in Venice and fly home for an unbelievable $955 per person.  Allowing ourselves $1000 for meals, fees for attractions, and shopping, we could have 6 nights in Italy for just under $3000.

I emailed our travel friends and sent them the link to this amazing package.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, as it turned out) they were on vacation at Hilton Head and had no computer access in their condo.  Days crept by with no response from them and the longer we waited, the higher the price went as the less expensive hotel spots were taken.  

Note: as I remember this now, I realize that 10 years ago, not everyone had a cell phone, a data plan, an iPad, and Wifi everywhere.

When we were finally able to speak with Bill and Verda on the phone, we discovered another glitch.  They had recently been bumped from a Delta flight and were given a voucher for a free flight as long as it was the same price or less than the flight they’d been bumped from.  When Verda checked the voucher, she saw that it expired in two days!  Therefore, we had no time to work out an itinerary with European Destinations since there are options to choose from – including length of stay in each city; 3, 4 or 5 star hotels; which mode of transportation ( train, bus, or car) –  so planning was imperative.  We were on our own as far as planning this trip.

The next thing we knew, Bill and Verda had booked tickets to Amsterdam!  I was surprised, to say the least.  Amsterdam is quite a ways from Rome, Florence, and Venice.  And they booked their flight on May 30th without thinking that, if we traveled from Amsterdam to Rome, it would put us there right at Easter, which that year was on April 8th.  Trying to find an inexpensive hotel in Rome on the holiest of days in Christendom?  You guys do know that the Vatican is in Rome, right?  

True to their adventuresome character, Verda said

“Don’t worry.  Wherever you guys fly into, we’ll just take a train and meet you.”

So, with that in mind, we started searching online for airfares.  As I looked and looked, I was getting discouraged because I couldn’t find anything – not to Amsterdam, Rome, Paris, Munich, anywhere – for less than about $800.  Too much for us to spend.  Finally, one night, my husband was standing by the computer while I showed him what the fares looked like.  He suggested that I look for the previous day – the 29th – instead of the 30th.  Lo and behold!  Flight to Amsterdam for $478 each!  Instead of European Destinations to Italy, this was Cross Your Fingers to The Netherlands. 

“Stinkin’ Rich in Haarlem

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Published Apr 1, 2007

After picking up our car and being somewhat discombobulated by having to drive on the “wrong” side of the road, we set out with no plans other than to stop whenever we wanted to explore.  Our first stop was only eight miles from Amsterdam, but, since we never got underway til mid-morning, it wasn’t long before it was time to stop for lunch!

Haarlem has a unique claim to fame.  A recent study found the Dutch to be the most content of the Europeans, and those folks living in Haarlem were found to be the happiest in the Netherlands.  

As we were soon to learn, the steeple of the church marked the center of town, so we parked and headed there.  We were delighted to find – as had happened for hundreds of years – an open-air market in progress. While we all were shopping for scarves, shoes, and whatever, Ron found a hardware store.  In this store, he found a coffee pot!  The pot was only $15.00 and cups were about $2.00, so just for the two of us it would only take 5 cups of coffee at 4 euros each to pay for itself!  Best decision of the entire trip.  Bill and Verda left it in the last hotel room as a gift to one of the housekeeping staff.

St. Bavo’s church was a good way to learn about medieval history.  According to Rick Steves’ guide, the church was named after St. Bavo, a local nobel who frequented seventh-century Red Light Districts during his youth. In the late 1500’s, the St. Bavo church became Protestant, and was then called the Great Church since Protestants were anti-saint.  In medieval times the church was the focal point of the everyday lives of the people of the town.  Since we were there on a market day, and the church sits right on the square, it was easy to see how, during cold or rainy weather, the market was simply moved inside the church. The base of the church is given over to lots of small shops where you can buy the well-known fries, served with mayo instead of catsup, jewelry, souvenirs, gelato, or even get a haircut.  The church owns the shops and rents them out, thus establishing itself as an economic participant in the community.

As you enter the church you feel the chill – the stone floors, stone walls and colored windows keep any warmth out.  After a while your neck starts hurting from looking up so much and you look down to notice the shape and size of the stone slabs beneath your feet, and you see names and dates engraved on them. Gives one pause to realize you are walking on the graves of people buried centuries ago. 

“Only those with piles of money to give to the church could be buried in a way that gave them an advantage in the salvation derby.  But even though the dead bodies were embalmed, they stunk.  Imagine being a peasant sitting here, trying to think about God . . . and thinking only of the stench of well-fed bodies rotting.  And the phrase “stinking rich” was born.” (Steves, p. 205)  It was the custom of the time in Europe to bury parishioners inside the church rather than a cemetery outside the church. 

St. Bavo’s church is the proud owner of a Christian Muller organ, one of the best in the world with 5,000 pipes.  Amadeus Mozart played this organ when he was only 10 years old, in 1766.  Handel played St. Bavo’s in 1740, the year before his famous Messiah debuted.  Albert Schweitzer also performed on this spectacular organ. 

Just to the left of the organ is a piece of furniture that has survived since the 15th century.  This is what I love about visiting Europe – it’s impossible to feel very important when you see things like the bench where the church gave the city’s poor their daily bread and lard over 500 years ago.  When you see this bench, the prayer, “give us our daily bread” takes on an entirely new meaning.

Even though the rich are buried here, one man was respected enough to be sculpted for all eternity on a wooden panel on the wall.  He was the Dog Whipper.  Back when the church was the site of the marketplace on rainy days, this man’s job was to keep the dogs out of the church, no doubt to keep them from running off with precious food.

After a pleasant lunch at an outdoor cafe just outside the church we continued on to tulip country.