The List

You know it's been a good trip when you begin planning your next journey on the flight home.

My sister and I took the Sky magazine that we found in the pocket of the airplane seat and opened it up to the world map and began choosing destinations. That's one way to use a little time on an international flight right? :) 

Notice that these locations are tropical? That is my sister's request. She's ready to lay out in the sun. I told her I'm fine with tropical locations as long as I can bring a stack of books and just sit and read for a week.
          *She thinks I'm so weird*

Go To The Opera - It's More Fun Than You Think

I've always wanted to go to an opera. I've heard of people crying because the performance was so moving. 
I knew there were opera houses in Venice so I thought it would be the perfect time to see my first opera performance!! 
My sister, Shelley, didn't share in my excitement. (surprise surprise :) again, she just goes with the plan)

"We won't be able to understand what they're saying." she said.

"We won't need to." I say. "We'll be able to understand the story just by watching the people and we'll be able to feel the emotions!"

Shell seriously looks at me like I've lost my mind sometimes. ha! 

The opera performance was on the last night in Venice and we were so excited. Well, I was excited. HA! We arrived early and visited with an Italian man who was an opera aficionado and I was imaging hearing that wonderful first note the soprano singer belted out.

Well, ten minutes into the show I looked over at Shell and she is sleeping. I'm giggling to myself. Each time the audience would applaud she would wake up and try to look like she's enjoying the performance. Oh my gosh, it was funny. I have to admit that I wasn't much better. I found myself dozing off and trying to hold my head on my hand so the people around us didn't notice. I realized very quickly that YOU DO NEED TO UNDERSTAND THE LANGUAGE WHEN SEEING AN OPERA. ha!

Somehow we made it through the two hour performance without snoring and when it was over neither one of us could say what the show was about. All we know is people ate food and a chef was involved somehow. We were laughing so hard by the time we left the opera house that we needed to contain ourselves so everyone around us didn't think were nutcases.
Okay then - See an opera. Check that off my bucket list!

St. Mark's Basilic (#2)

As a history buff, the details of places we visit are part of the excitement for me.
The first St. Mark's Basilica was built in the 9th century to house ancient sacred relics - that had been stolen. According to legend they snuck them past the guards by hiding them under layers of pork in barrels! Sounds like the beginnings of smuggling contraband right?!

In 828, merchants from Venice stole the body of St. Mark the Evangelist from Egypt. While at sea a storm almost drowned the graverobbers and so it is believed that the spirit of St. Mark appeared to the captain and told him to lower the sails. The ship was saved and the sailors said it was a miracle they survived. The entire story is told in mosaic in the basilica.

At first glance the walls appear to be covered in murals and paintings but when you look closer you'll see these gorgeous scenes are mosaics where each piece has been hand laid. And not only hand laid but placed strategically at specific angles so that the light catches them and makes a shimmering light appear through the entire basilica.

It is implausible to understand the time, effort and visual brilliance it took to place each small piece. 

St. Mark's Basilica

When we arrived in Venice we were hungry because we hadn't eaten a real meal since arriving in Italy (long story - another post), so we sat down at the restaurant just over the bridge for a wonderful homemade Italian pizza. Naturally it was delicious.

I love taking pictures. I'm seldom without a camera and it doesn't matter if it's a gorgeous Nebraska sunset or a lady bug on a flower, I find it fun to capture the moment. So when I decided not to take my camera on this trip it was a really big deal. My reasoning was two-fold. One - we only take carry on luggage so we don't have to drag big suitcases up and down 400+ bridges in Venice and Two - I decided I was going to be in the moment this time and not be so focused on getting that perfect picture to look back on. We had our phones so we still took some pictures but no where close to the amount of pictures I would have taken if I'd brought my good camera. 

On our previous visits to Venice we had not been to St. Mark's Basilica because the lines were always so long and we just didn't have the patience to wait. (patience is not a strong trait of mine.) This trip there was no line at all so we made it a priority to go. To say that Italian architecture is fascinating is a gross understatement. The opulent designs of arches and domes along with intricate details in stone and marble are stunning. My sister, Shell, and I always talk about how an actual person stood in the exact spot we are in and chiseled this design into this grand column and here it is, still standing hundreds of years later.

Shell is very claustrophobic and when I asked her to climb a long narrow staircase to get to the top of the Basilica I thought she may pass out. :) It took some prodding to convince her but eventually we climbed yet another flight of steep stone steps. Once we opened that door to the outside we saw a

pretty extraordinary sight. 

From our vantage point we could see the entire San Marco Square.

It was pretty cool. We stood up there just admiring the Square and imagining it being filled with aristocrats and high ranking officials strutting around with their black top hats and a snifter glass of bourbon as they stroll about mingling with their own. (We have a good imagination.) :)

  

Sebastiano

Be still my Venice loving heart....

As the train approaches Venice I am so happy to see the familiar. We know exactly where we are now. It feels like home.

I think if you asked anyone which country was their favorite they would tell you the country that made them fall in love with traveling. For me, that is Italy. And my favorite city is Venice. It was the beginning of a love affair I'm sure will last a lifetime.

It's the feeling I get when I set foot in this floating city. The magic begins as we eagerly cross the bridges that will lead us to our apartment.

This is the third time I've stayed at this apartment and we're anxious to meet up with Sebastiano again. He is incredibly kind and gracious and always makes us feel so welcomed. As we turn the corner we see him and he greets us with a big smile and a handshake. Only this time he pulls me in and gives me a kiss on each cheek. A TRUE Italian greeting! I have crossed over from guest to friend. He greets my sister the same and we talk like old schoolmates. It is the perfect start to our stay. 

That Must Be Max

From Cinque Terre we headed to Lucca by train.

I've always been fascinated that there is still an existing wall that dates back to a different era! Because it was a quick overnight stay our goal was to walk on top of the wall and experience a taste of the city before heading to Venice the following morning. Given it was such a quick visit we stayed at a bed and breakfast located minutes from the train station. *Everything in Europe is measured in minutes walking and we've learned that whatever amount of 'minutes' someone gives you, it can be tripled for us.*
Directions from the train station seemed easy. (directions are only easy if you actually know where you're going!) We made it about a block from the train station before we had to make a decision on which way to continue so we knew it could be a problem. ha! We tried to use Google Maps but it wasn't helping so we went with our gut and kept walking. Directions had said 10 minute walk from train station and given the fact we'd been walking thirty seemed about right. Finally we stopped in front of a café and called Max, the B&B owner. Max spoke broken English and we began a very confusing conversation. I explained to him that we couldn't find the street we were suppose to turn on and he asked me what time I would be arriving in Milan. (at least that is what I thought he was asking me.) I told him I was not in Milan but we had just arrived in Lucca and were trying to get to his B&B. After several minutes of our discussion I asked if there was anyone there who spoke English in which he replied, "I speak English." Hmmm.... Ok. How was I going to relay to him what I was trying to say.... 
Finally I asked him if he knew of the café we were standing front of and he said, "Oh yes! I'll be there in 10 minutes." 
Great I thought! As we were waiting, my sister and I laughed about standing on a random corner and just waiting for a stranger to pull up and tell us to get in with him. And once again we knew our families would be freaking out if they could see us just then.
After standing by the café for a few minutes my sister and I were fairly sure that the phone conversation between myself and Max may not have been completely understood by either of us so we decided to head back across the street and in the direction our gut had pointed us in. A few blocks later my sister laughed and said, "That must be Max!" Low and behold, there was a man across the street waving his hand in the air and we just gravitated toward him and it was Max! 
We walked half a block and Max points to a sign on a gate which reads, Villa Anna which I had understood him as saying Milan! Mystery solved on that misunderstanding. :)
Max leads us into a large building that is eerily quiet with not another soul around. We're trying not to giggle and at the same time wondering if we're the only people staying there, which we find out later we are. Because we're so incredibly brave we decided to make our own room alarm 'just in case'. HA!

We quickly dropped our suitcases off in the room and headed toward the walled city. It would be dark soon so we wanted to enjoy a quick stroll on top of the wall.

It was a bit fairy tale like knowing the historic times this wall had stood through.
After walking around the walled city for several hours we decided we'd try to find our way back to the B&B. Our plan was to get back on top of the wall and find the rock staircase we'd used to initially and be back to our room in no time.

To walk the entire wall on foot was supposed to take 45 minutes - European time. Naturally, after we'd been walking 30 minutes and hadn't seen anything familiar we realized we must have turned left when we should have turned right. Although there are lights along the wall we were both very glad to see several runners and a few walkers along the way. We finally found the staircase we'd used earlier that day and made it back to the room safe and sound.

Our visit to Lucca was noticeably brief but we saw the historic wall and met Max so it is considered a success. :)

  

Quaint vs Supercenter

In comparison to the U.S., Italian grocery stores are quaint to say the least. And might be one of my favorite things about Italy.

This is the entire front of the grocery store in Riomaggiore. (See Shell inside? She was making a wine run before we headed back to the apartment for the night.) 

Because of the small size, Italian grocery stores are crowded places with the narrow isles difficult to maneuver at times. Many are so small there aren't isles at all. While shopping carts are available in some of the larger stores, it's more common to use a much smaller pull behind plastic cart that is about the same size as a hand basket. Many times you don't use a cart at all because you need to remember that whatever you buy you have to carry back to your apartment. Yet another big difference from their culture and ours. 

Through our trips we've learned a few things about grocery store etiquette. :) We need to wear plastic gloves when choosing fresh fruits or vegetables. Then we put our produce on a scale and type in the code that matches the food chosen and then a tag prints out with the price and we stick it on the bag. There isn't a scale at the checkout so if you haven't weighed it yourself the clerk will just set it aside and you don't buy it. And they aren't real patient with you if you hold up the check-out line. ha!
It may sound kind of silly but it is SO cool to be able to "shop" like the locals.

Italian grocery stores do not bag your groceries. You bag your own. And if you don't bring your own reusable bag you'll need to buy a plastic bag which costs around 10 cents. I can't count how many times we intended to bring our own bag and then forgot to put it in the backpack so had to buy one. geez. And there were many times we'd just load down the backpack and carry armloads so we didn't spend that extra 10 cents on another bag. :) Memories!

In the smaller villages the stores close for several hours in the afternoon and then reopen for a few hours into early evening. Typical opening time is 8:00 am to 1:30 pm. Then the store is closed from 1:30 to 4:00 pm and reopens from 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm. There were several nights we found ourselves jumping off the train and racing to get there before closing time. :) Because of course we had to get a bottle of wine each night before we schlepped up the stairway to the stars, otherwise known as our apartment.  

You know it's a good trip when you can even make memories in a grocery store!

Manarola

These small villages sit on the sea, literally. 

Fishing boats are parked like cars on a traditional street. I'm curious how the locals get these boats from the harbor to these small side streets. 

While enjoying these views we noticed four gentlemen hauling sheet rock up these ever steep inclines to a home at the top of another set of stone steps. Each man balanced sheet rock on his back and ever so steadily climbed the path and then on toward the staircase where he would tilt and maneuver himself and the sheet rock up the narrow staircase until we lose sight of him inside the building. My sister and I talked about how every single task of construction is done by hand with brute strength and determination. 
Because we were there in the off season there seemed to be a lot of construction and renovations to properties being done. We also watched several places being worked on where the demolition debris was handed down by rope from the top story of a building in 5 gallon buckets!
I'm certain we stared at the way this culture took this all in stride and the striking contrariety of our own culture. 

Sitting on those timeworn stones as we looked silently at the sea was a humbling experience.

We watched families enjoy each other's company while a brother teased his sister just out of sight of mom's scolding.

Manarola, you are a gem and you know it.

Truth

A mind stretched by new experiences can never go back to its old dimensions.
Travel. Learn. Grow

Corniglia

The middle village, Corniglia, is the only village that is not directly on the sea. To reach the actual village you need to climb 365 steps. After traipsing up and down steep streets for two days my butt  muscles were not looking forward to 365 more steps so I stayed down below while my sister made the hike to the top.

 The weather was beautiful this day with no clouds in sight so we were hoping to see a great sunset. We weren't sure we'd get back to Riomaggiore in time so we decided to stay in Corniglia. The sunset we saw was stunning. 

We took pictures with our phones so these don't begin to show how beautiful it truly was. 

Are You Porter?

Cinque Terre consists of five little villages that cling to a mountain side that kisses the sea.
We arrived in Cinque Terre at night with a light rain falling. The apartment we rented was located in the village of Riomaggiore. (I chose this village because I liked the way the word was spelled. (true story. ha!)

I had correspondence with the apartment owner through email only and the directions we were given were 'follow the "main street" to Columbo St. and ask for Simone at the store between the bar and the pharmacy'.   Of course directions are never quite as simple as they sound. 

My sister and I left the train station and immediately feel lost (as is very common for us) so we ask the first person we see if she knows the address we are looking for.  She did not, but tells us which direction to head to. We are literally the only people out on the streets and we walk through this long dark tunnel pulling our suitcases. Just outside the tunnel we find Columbo St and look for a bar and a pharmacy of which we see neither at first. It's raining, we don't have our umbrella out (did I mention I lost my umbrella before we even made it to airport security!) This is a quiet street with a few locals walking home. One restaurant was open and a tiny grocery store had lights on. We did not see the bar or the pharmacy where we were to introduce ourselves to Simone. The dark stone street was quiet when we heard a man say, "Are you Porter?" (in a thick Italian accent.) We answer, "yes" and he waves and says, "Come with me."

So, we follow this totally random stranger and he leads us up a steep hill and numerous stairs until we reach a metal gate. "Here is the hard part." he says. I can only image what that means because I'm gasping for breath from the walk up the side of this mountain town in the rain. Also, I'm wearing a 'boot' because I'd broken a bone in my foot several weeks prior. Ugh!

He opens the metal gate and there are 67 steep stone steps up to our apartment. My sister is laughing and tells me that maybe next time I should ask about the number of steps involved when renting our next apartment. :)

When we reach the apartment my glasses are fogging over because I'm so hot and out of breath. Does that sound like fun? Not at that moment no, but it was in hindsight. The apartment was great and had an amazing top terrace that overlooked part of the village and the Ligurian Sea.

It was one of those things that makes you stare and doesn't seem quite real. A true piece of beautiful nature.
Neither of us had heard of the Ligurian Sea so we were fascinated by it. Both of us wanted to put our hands in the water so we could say we'd touched the Ligurian Sea.
  

Escape The Ordinary

Why my sister and I are good traveling partners

1. We have a way of communicating.
I could say something as simple as, "Remember the subway?" and it sends us both into a frenzy of sidesplitting laughter. 

2. We bring out the best in each other.

We are very different people with very different personalities but we tend to use that to push each other out of our own comfort zones. 

3. Good or bad.

Not everyone can look at someone sleeping on an airplane with her mouth gaping open and think
'I love her.'

4. Patience.

We're patient with each other. I'd say my sister's patience is tested when we travel though. I tend to think things are far funnier than she does. Especially when going through airport security and having the suitcase bust open and the contents forcing the emergency stop of the conveyor belt.
* seriously hysterical*

5. We somehow balance each other out.

She knows my sense of humor and yet she never gets mad when I'm the one laughing and taking pictures as she is dragging heavy suitcases down the stairs. And when the wind slams the door behind her and the rest of our luggage is locked upstairs and we have left the keys in the apartment. And we need to be at the airport in one hour.

Hmmmm..... It's 5:30 in the morning. Do we just holler until the neighbor hears us? Yep~ that's what we do. :) 'Hello' 'Can anyone hear us?' After waking up Nice neighbor lady she comes down and lets us back in the retrieve the other suitcase.
*again, So Funny*