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We make it to Vicenza in plenty of time to get our tickets sorted. I had my Rail Pass to validate which gives me 8 days travelling over two months in three countries (Italy, Switzerland and France), supposedly the cheapest way for me to get around. But I don't know so. My train ticket from Mestre (Venice) to Vicenza only cost me E3.85 so that's a heck of a lot of train travel to make up the $1200 that House of Travel charged me.
So I line up for my ticket – I have to travel from Vicenza to Padova and then change trains to Florence and they charged me another E20.00 That makes a very expensive train ride. I found out later that the E20 is to reserve the seat. Anyway I was hopeful of travelling on the same train as the others as far as Padova, however the ticket salesman booked me on the express train direct to Padova and they were on the slower, stop every station train leaving ¾ of an hour before mine. Allen explained that there is a carriage number and a seat number on the ticket and I discovered that I was on carriage 2. Guess what – yep it was at the back end of the train and I was standing alongside carriage 10 or 11 or some number like that when the train pulled up, so I had to hike it down the platform and heave my heavy suitcase up into the carriage. You have to climb three or four steps to get up, and that is no mean feat with a handbag and a suitcase. Then you have to find your seat. Well I opted to stand in the foyer (I'm sure its not called a foyer on a train but that will do for now) as it was only a 10 minute trip to Padova.
Ah, so off at Padova, heave my suitcase down those steps without tipping a-over-turkey, down the stairs, along the subway and up the stairs to platform No 1 to wait for the train to Roma, via Bologna and Florence. I ask a girl who looked like she knew what she was doing how to determine which end of the train to aim for, because this time I was in carriage 1. She informed me that I was to be travelling 1st class, (aha so that's why it cost so much more than the other day, and of interest I should have been 1st class on the Vicenza to Padova as welll) so that would be at the front of the train so I headed up the platform.
Well guess what - they were the 2nd class carriages up this end and 1st class is at the other end, and what seemed like a mile away. I have no idea what number carriage I was getting into , but the seats were numbered in the hundreds, and mine should have been Carriage 1, seat 21. Oh what the hell, I am on the train, I have a validated ticket, I also have a rail pass so they can't kick me off, and second class is very comfortable anyway, so I decide to stay right there.
About 10 minutes into the trip, a conductor comes along and tells me I am in the wrong place. I tell her I know, but she says at the next station only 2min stop so best to stay where I am. I can change at Bologna if I want to be in first class. Well I stick my head out the door at Bologna, the other end of the train seems an awful long way away, and there are hundreds of people trying to get on the train, so I opt to stay where I am and hope like heck that I don't have someone else's seat. If I have I will stand by my suitcase, which this time is in the case rack between the carriages.
A man in the seat across the aisle notices the novel I am reading in English and decides he is going to chat – he is an Italian, an artist, a little bit younger than me, and he decides to rabbit on about abstract art and poets and artists - I have no idea what he is talking about. He also tells me about his trip to Paris when he was 16 and he talks all about the All Blacks. I just nod intelligently and hope that he will get sick of talking soon, because even though he is speaking English I am having difficulty understanding him, he talks so fast.
Eventually he drops off to sleep and leaves me to my book. Not long after that I hear this conversation in English in the seat in front of me, and I spend the rest of the journey chatting to this very pleasant young American lad (Scott) who is travelling around Europe. He's a bright and enthusiastic young man and I really enjoy talking to him, and as he is hopeful of visiting Oz and NZ in the future I give him my card with email details and as he rides a motor bike and is wanting to ride around NZ I tell him to get in touch as my son rides a motor bike as well and I promise him a visit to a dairy farm which he thought would be great.
And then in no time I was disembarking in Florence. A very busy station, and I step out into the heat. Oh boy it is hot here. Along the street in front of the station are a line of hotels, so I try to get a room. Not looking good, all full. After trying 5 I am starting to feel slightly anxious. The thought of sleeping on the bench at the station is not really all that appealing, but thankfully back up the street and round the corner into a more back street I find a place that can take me for one night only. I asked for a single room 2 nights, he said all that was available was a double for 1 night. I said “I'll take it” and the deal is done.
I go up to my room via the elevator (now that was a bit of a challenge as well – didn't have automatic doors so I had to figure out how to open the blooming thing first off. Then push the button to go up to the second floor, then figure out how to get out again. It was really tiny, about the size of a broom cupboard (just enough room for me and my case). But I get to my room - oh lovely and cool, I'm not going to want to leave here.
And for the first time since I have been in Italy – a jug and some sachets of coffee and tea bags. Oh goody I can have a drink before I venture out. By now it is about 3pm.
In the foyer I had picked up some tourist brochures and had chosen a couple of things to do tomorrow, so went down to get a map of the area, and to ask if they could suggest where I might be able to stay tomorrow night. It didn't matter if I was further away from the station I tell them. And guess what, the lovely young man, who was now joined by his colleague said he could do something for me, he had a different room tomorrow night, and that if I left my luggage packed up in the morning they would transfer it to the new room for me. I thanked them heartily and then asked them to see if they could book me on a tour. They said they would try and would confirm it when I came back in this evening, marked all the things in the near vicinity that I need to see and sent me on my way to go and explore this wonderful city.
I left the hotel, and ventured out into the late afternoon heat. Not a breath of wind, people everywhere and it is so so hot. But what a wonderful place. Everyone is so friendly. The buildings are old, the shops are full of the most beautiful stuff – food, jewellery, clothes, shoes and accessories. My first stop was at a bar to get some food. I hadn't eaten since breakfast at 7.30 so I had lasagne and an orange juice, and then wandered out to see the sights. The cathedral – what an amazing building, a couple of churches I went into, they are just so beautiful. I don't get sick of looking at them.
I find the most amazing ceramics shop – all hand painted – platters, tableware, even dining tables and outdoor tables. Oh how I wish I could send one of those home for my wee courtyard. They do export but the lady said the cost to NZ would be phenomenal as they are so heavy. What a shame. I picked up a brochure and will just have to be content with the picture.
Three hours later and the place is still buzzing, people everywhere, and it is still very hot and the sun is still high in the sky. I have wandered quite a way, and so I decide it is time to orientate myself to this here map and find my way back to the hotel. But I am having a bit of difficulty still, my magnetic north has not tuned in yet. And the streets seem to go in every which way, although on the map they look as if they go in squares. Finally I figure out where I am and make it back to my hotel okay.
Now one of the pieces of advice I read on the internet before I came away – Do not wander around a strange city with a map in your hand. It is a dead give-away that you are a tourist and probably lost and therefore vunerable. Well another dumb piece of advice. Every second person in Florence is wandering around with a map in their hand trying to work out where they are, so I do stick to the other piece of advice and hover near to someone else who is pondering over a map and look as if I am perhaps with them. But, I don't feel unsafe, I have not been approached by anyone, and as yet not had my butt pinched. See I told you I would be too old for them to worry about and that I would be perfectly safe. So much for all the safety advice I got before I came away.
Sarah swapped my book for a book written by and Englishman about his travels in Italy, and she said I may get some ideas for my book. I told Chris, Allen and Sarah that my book so far would only appeal to foodaholics, and that I probably wouldn't get rich from the sale of it, and Allen said I would need to find some sex and violence to make it appealing to a wider audience, and if by the time I finish my cycling around Tuscany and I haven't anything exciting to report, then I had better just make something up!!!!! They said I needed to sell heaps of copies of my book so that I could afford to do more Headwater trips (this was their 7th) and reckoned each one got better.
Well, I am safely tucked up back in my hotel room for the night. I bought a slice of pizza down the road and brought it back to have in my room, and for the first time since arriving in Italy I was disappointed. It looked great in the shop but he heated the slice in the microwave and he obviously overdid it because it was hard and yuck.
I was thrilled to be told on arriving back at the hotel that they have booked me on the trip tomorrow morning, and I have a fifteen minute walk to the meeting point and have to be there by 10am. I am doing the “Wannabe Italiano Cooking Class” The brochure says join the chef at the local market to pick the products we will use. Each participant will involve themselves in “hands on” in the preparation of the recipes. The full menu includes antipasto, pasta, main dish and side dish, and a dessert. Afterwards everyone sits down at the table to enjoy the fruits of our labour. Wines will be appropriately chosen to accompany the meal. So how cool is that. 5 hours. I am so excited.
Looking at the brochure, they advertise a trip “Ferrari driving among the hills of Tuscany” …...............and “Balloon flight over the Tuscan countryside.” I will see about those, they both might just be a very good idea.
So, from Florence – Arrividerci for another day. I will have a early night, and be up bright and early to make sure I make it to the meeting point in time. Website for the tours if you want to check it out www.florencetown.com I haven't been able to connect to wi-fi in my room tonight, so will take my notebook downstairs at breakfast time and try to post this and yesterdays blogs.
Ciao
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