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Up early as planned and down for breakfast before that huge crowd all arrived in the dining room and this morning made acquaintance with another lady dining alone. She was from Cardiff in Wales, a widow and also on his first solo trip to Europe. Great to compare notes and laugh about the stupid advice we both read about women travelling alone. She thought the tip about standing close to a wall when waiting for a train or bus was another dumb piece of advice. If you are in danger (and it would appear in this part of the country that is highly unlikely, and she agreed that she felt more vulnerable walking alone in Cardiff, then it would be so much easier for a would-be assailant to pin you against the wall and you would have no holpe of escaping – so there goes another safety rule for women travellers. I can see I am going to have to re-write the rules when I get home.
As suggested by Pina, the hotel owner, I went to the travel agent a few doors down the street and after waiting for about 20 minutes whilst she served another customer, I discovered that with my Eurorail pass I can just get on the train, and that the train to Perugia goes from the local station, and if I take the 11.12.13pm or the 2.13pm I do not have to change at Terontl. They are just regional trains so my pass will work fine. So I decided I had time for another quick look around the city (citta) and will aim to catch the 12.13pm. My bag is all packed up, and I leave it in the hotel locker room and off I trundle. At only 9am it is already very hot, clear blue sky, no air circulating at all.
I wander off in the direction I thought I saw a post office yesterday - I've written a couple of postcards and wanted to post them. On the way I end up at the Piazza Duomo so I go for my horse and carriage ride through the streets of the city. What a wonderful way to see it. I pass dozens of groups of tourists doing the walking tours, they all look hellishly hot and bothered, and I am sitting in comfort seeing all the buildings that they are having to walk to. Maybe my commentary is not as thorough as theirs, but my charming driver points out all the important bits along the way.
This place is so old, it is hard to even begin to imagine how they built them way back then. The cathedral is so tall and so ornately decorated with the hugest of statues way up high – how the hell did they get them up there. And we think we are clever today. And the amazing thing is that they are still standing hundreds of years later.
I am sad to leave Florence, there is still so much to see, but you really need to have a lot of time – I think my driver said 175 churchs and dozens of museums. We rode past two or three of the museums and there were great long queues waiting outside in the hot sun, so I had to be content just to visit and take photos of the imitation statue of David – and believe me that was
All too soon it is time to head back to the hotel to collect my luggage. My case is getting heavier, and I really am only buying little bits and pieces, but they must be adding up – I wonder if I have gone over my 20 kg yet.
I gave the signora at the hotel a pair of paua shell earings for her kindness and friendship last night, and the co-owner (the chap from Albania who booked me in two days ago, gave me a gift from the hotel. It was beautifully wrapped tied up – a box of hand made Florentine soaps. How thoughtful, and Pina gave me a book on Florence – showing how it was and how it is now.
And so, trailing my suitcase behind me, I trundle my way in the heat to the railway station. I get there at 11.50am and I check the departure board. The train to Perugia No 3157 leaves from Platform 13. There is no train in sight, there is nothing on the sign on the platform so I figure I am in the right place and have plenty of time. At about 12.16 an express train pulls in, with business class written all along the outside. I check with some officials and learn that this is not the train to Perugia. For some reason I have either missed it, or it didn't come or it was on another platform. Who can understand this strange system.
So I now have a two hour wait, in a hot and crowded railway station waiting at Platform 14 for the 14.13pm train number 3159 to Perugia, Here's hoping I'm in the right place at the right time this time. And if all else fails there is another at 16.13pm but I hope to be settled nicely into my Chocohotel by then. It is now 13.15pm and I am starting to get peckish, probably more from boredom rather than actually being hungry so I might go and see what is on offer in the way of commuter food and drinks. There seem to be plenty of food places about.
It is now 9.25pm and I am back upstairs following dinner. I am so full and tonight I only had 2 courses, not even any dessert.
At the stazione I didn't get anything to eat - lots of food about but all great big chunks of bread filled with cheese and ham or cheese and salami, nothing small and light, so I drank some water and made do with that. They eat an amazing amount of bread here - great big thick slices of it, and dry, no butter.
I kept checking the departures board to make sure that I was waiting for the correct train at the correct platform, but I noticed that people were standing in front of one of those big boards like at the airport which shows departures and arrivals. So I checked with a lady who was sitting with a huge pile of luggage – she looked like a seasoned traveller – and thankfully she was. She told me that the permanent board is there just as a guide and that the platform numbers can change from time to time. Luckily she was catching the same train as me, although getting off earlier, so I stuck with her, and we helped each other get our heavy suitcases up onto the train. She was a widow from Thailand, who had been married to an Italian man and spends six months in Italy and six months in Thailand. She speaks both Italian and English very well. I enjoyed talking with her on the train, and then when she got off the young Italian girl sitting next to me started pointing out things of interest along the way. She was Turino in the north, a nutritionist at the osperdale (hospital) and was going home to Perugia for her summer holiday. It is amazing how easy it has been very me to have wonderful conversations with so many strangers, something I have never really done before.
I got a telling off from the conductor, he was a very serious man, no sense of humour, no compassion for a foreigner whatsoever. Now the hotel people and the travel agent said I could just get on the train with my Rail Pass. I asked about validating it, and they all said no, just get on the train. I asked a couple of official looking rail people on the stazione if I needed to get a ticket and the said no, just board the train. Now, this conductor was not amused when I handed over my ticket. I was supposed to write todays date in the little square BEFORE GETTING ON THE TRAIN, he said to me in a very officious voice. Otherwise I would have to pay E40. “Always before getting on the train” he repeated about four times, and I think I have gotten the message now. I thought he would just punch the little box with his ticket punching gadget that he swung round and round in his hand while he waiting for me to get my ticket out of my wallet. But no, it is up to me to write the date in the square. You see I have a ticket I can use for any eight days over the next two months in Italy, Switzerland or France and it has 8 little boxes. I will get the hang of this by the time I'm finished.
Oh dear, it is so easy to offend these people, but hopefully I scored a cultural browny point tonight when I looked horrified when the waiter offered me an Americano coffee or a cappuccino after my dinner. You see I know that you mustn't order cappuccino after 11.00am and they frown at people having Americano coffee, and so I ordered espresso lunga. It was still very short, about ¾ of one of those tiny wee cups instead of the thimbleful you get if you have an ordinary espresso. But I must say, it was a very nice coffee, not strong and bitter, and with a lovely thick golden crema on the top. Apart from it still only being a mouthful, I did rather enjoy it.
So now to tell you about the rest of my day. I got off the train at Perugia and grabbed a taxi to the hotel. Now I was a little anxious here because the lady at Hotel Byron had told me that the Chocohotel was 46 km away from the stazione. However when I had checked it out on the internet I thought it said only 1.5 km. So I asked the taxi driver how far, but either in English or Italiano she said “non compendo” so I crossed fingers and prayed that it was only 1.5 km and not the distance Pina had said it was, and luckily it was the short distance and cost me E7.00 although we went round in a big circle because the streets are one way. However much better to spend that than to struggle up the hill in the heat. I sure wish I had stuck to the little suitcase, this one is getting so heavy – although I do have my overnight bag inside it. One young chap who was collecting money for the anti-drugs campaign outside the station in Firenze asked helped me carry my bag up the stairs (always stairs in the railway stations – up to the terminal, down to the subway, up to the platform) and asked me if I had a dead husband inside it. I have sorted out a pile of stuff which I might post home, the maps I've already used and the books and brochures and pamphlets I have collected along the way. I am loathe to send anything too important or valuable in case it goes astray.
But again I digress – see how my mind is going off on a tangent all the time – so many things to write about, so many things to remember. If I don't write them down I will forget.
Ah yes, the Chocohotel. Mmmmmmm the smell of chocolate as you walk into the foyer. Straight ahead is the reception desk, to the left the Chocostore and to the right the restaurant. I was pleased to see that the booking I did on the internet from Firenze had worked and I had arrived at the right place on the right day – always a good start. I am handed my key and a souvenir block of chocolate and am told my room is on the 4th floor and that the swimming pool is on the roof top.
I am on the “dark chocolate piano.” Now there are two words that I had a bit of trouble getting my head around when I arrived here – the first one is camera which means room and piano which is floor.
So “la camera singola ha il bagno” “Si signora, per quantti notte?” “per due notte, per favore” “Benissimo. Ecco a lei la chiave” “Camera quattro zero uno”
After unpacking and sorting my handbag I thought I would go for a walk and find the city centre. I go down to reception and discover that I need to get a bus from across the road, or I can walk to the stazione and catch the mini-metro. So I step outside and am hit by the heat. It is 5pm and it is so hot. I started walking down to the station only to discover that about 100 yards down the road the pavement finishes and there are no pedestrians around. There must be a walking path somewhere, so I head back up the hill. It is so hot, my feet are so tired from all my walking in Florence and I am feeling weary so I decide to go back to the cool of my room and have a nanna nap before dinner. I decide I will eat in the restaurant – it looks very classy – and I will go discover the city in the morning.
So at 8.15pm, after a nanna nap and a shower I am feeling much more relaxed and I head downstairs. One other gentleman in the restaurant at this point, and I am shown to my table. The waiter hands me il menu. Oh my gosh, it is all in Italian, no translations of any type. So out comes my trusty phrase book and I turn to the blue pages at the back which are the menu guide.
Already I can recognise parts of the descriptions but some of the words confuse me, and would you believe it, most of those words are not in my phrasebook. But I am determined to order from here.
I decide for my starter to have proscuitto di Norcia il melone
Now two bits confused me and I had to ask the waiter for explanation – di Norcia means a special way the proscuitto is cured, specific to the area of Perugia, and the 'a tatufo.' Now in my book it says this is icecream sprinkled with chocolate powder or truffle. Now I was thinking of truffle as a chocolate truffle, but aha, no, it is the real “black truffle” The waiter tells me this is a very nice dish, and so I decide to have it. As yet I have not tried gnocchi. He does not ask me to order any further dishes, but asks me about wine and I order il bicchiere vino bianco per favore”
The first course arrives, it is very nice and of course I have had this before, I think at Teolo. The proscuitto is quite different, but again very tasty and the melon is very juicy, very sweet and very chilled. A very nice starter.
Then for the gnocchi. It comes in a small bowl, is piping hot and has a slightly crusty topping of cheese on top, in a cheesy sauce. It is delicious. Little dots of black throughout – look about the size of coursely ground peppercorns, which I presume is the tatufo. But it is delicious, but oh so filling. I manage to slowly eat the lot, not going to waste it, it cost me E10.50 – thats about $25 for an entree.
But I am full after this, and the waiter must notice this as he does not offer me anything else – not even dessert and this is a chocolate hotel – but offers the coffee and as I said before, I did not disgrace myself by ordering the wrong thing. He smiled at me and brought me this lovely coffee.
During my meal I was joined in the dining room by a couple, and another man on his own, who obviously knows the waiter well as they spend a lot of time chatting, laughing and joking and the waiter slaps him on the shoulder several times during the course of the conversation.
And so by this time it is after 9pm and I head up to my room, after checking at reception for the code and password for the wi-fi. But I cannot get the signal in my room, so will wait until breakfast time. I am sure there isn't anything too important waiting for me – most of my emails have only been the regular subscription stuff I get on kinect, the junk mail on xtra.
I get a txt from Rowan about midnight, asking how I am and where am I? I replied to him and dropped back off to sleep and then got a txt from Dee, responding to my text telling her all about my cooking class and my gorgeous and charming chef. She agreed I should bring him home and start a restaurant.
And now it is morning again, and time to get started. It is just gone 7.30 and already the sun is up and it looks hot outside. It is very quiet out there at the moment, not a lot of traffic on this road yet. I will head down for breakfast soon, and get my day started. My right hand is very sore, and around the base of my thumb is very swollen, and I can't move my thumb at all without it hurting. I must have strained it getting my suitcase on and off the train.
A new rule to add – limit the size of your bag to plane cabin size if you are travelling on your own. Especially if travelling from place to place. A bigger bag is too heavy to lift on and off trains, and then you have to store it in the luggage compartment between carriages and you spend the whole time worrying about it. I think it would be much better to have two small cases.
And a rule to delete – lose the handbag – put your money and passport in a money belt. That's fine and dandy if you are not going to be spending any money that day. It is not a good look scrambling under your teeshirt to get your money out when you want to buy something. You still need to have a day pack (and that identifies you immediately as a tourist) or a handbag (a better option as you look more like a local – especially in Italy where the women all carry beautiful big handbags) Keep a small wallet or change purse in your handbag with just a small amount of spending money in it and if necessary keep the bulk in your money belt and top up your spending money as necessary.
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