To market

Wednesday, June 3rd 2009
Day 15
Written en route to Aosta, Italy at 5:00pm

The last time I wrote we were travelling to Turin--the train was very slow and stopped every few minutes, for about seven and a half hours. We didn't mind the long ride, though, since it was a drizzly day and would have been miserable to walk around outside. In addition, when the sun came out we were moving along the coast, through La Cinque Terre, which we were considering visiting ourselves. This region is known for its five medieval villages clinging to cliffs above the sea. Through the other window of the train we watched large mountains emerge, dotted with villas overlooking the distant ocean. It really was quite dramatic.

Quick glimpses from the train ride (Florence to Turin):

Some demonstration in Genoa

A typical lunch

We arrived in Turin late and checked into our hostel outside the city center. Here, unlike the other cities we stayed in, we would have to take the bus to get into town, since there really were no hostels or budget hotels in town. This seemed odd but after not too long we discovered that Turin, despite being the biggest city we have stayed in so far (pop. 921,000), is not the hot destination that Florence, Venice, and even Bologna are, which was extremely refreshing. For me, it was hard to really appreciate Florence and Venice because of their crowded, narrow streets and the throngs of tourists. It really distracted me from the appeal and culture of the city. Turin, however, was clean, wide, and no less grand.

The hostel was pretty nice and extremely clean, provided fresh towels, and the owner (at the least the man) was very helpful and had a nice attitude (the lady was a bit harsh). Besides being outside the city center, the main problem with the accommodation was it had no kitchen facilities. For every lunch and dinner we made do with mixing canned beans, canned tomatoes, and a small jar of pasta sauce and served that at room temperature with bread and cheese. However, the cheese of course gradually became more elaborate, the bread more artisan, and the drink went from water to boxed wine (only 0.85 euros at the cheap Aldi-style EuroSpin supermarket down the road; cheaper than milk, cheaper than bottled water). Our evening snack consisted of a 1 litre box of long-life milk and cornflakes. We were also able to experiment with how long we could keep food items unrefrigerated--we ate our sealed yogurt containers after about 48 hours and kept gorgonzola for about 30 (the man who sold us the cheese said you could keep it up to 10 days unchilled if it is kept wrapped. I suppose it is already molded and the addition of more mold could only enhance the flavour). We never did feel ill or get upset stomachs.

On Monday morning after our not too inspiring run along a somewhat dangerously busy residential street leading up a long hill, we took the bus into town. As Seth worked at the library I walked around and explored the numerous piazzas which seemed to be hidden around every other corner.

The National University Library in the Piazza Carlo Alberto

Turin has very different architecture--perhaps a little French-influenced?

The massive Piazza Vittorio Veneto

After meeting back with Seth (the library closed early, at 2pm), we had our typical lunch of cheese, bread, and sauce, then visited the Duomo di San Giovanni, the home of the Shroud of Turin. The church was not unlike the others we had seen, but it did have a nice reproduction of the shroud (the real thing will not be exposed for public viewing again until 2025), and we were surprised to find the real deal hidden under a covering behind a glass wall. I'm not catholic and don't put faith in religious relics, but I must admit it was pretty neat.

Duomo di San Giovanni, home of the Shroud

Seth with Jesus (a reproduction of the shroud and the negative image of its photograph)

We then headed north of the city center, past old Roman ruins, and into Porta Palazzo, Europe's largest outdoor market. It seemed to go on and on--flowers, clothing, odd-and-ends, and of course amazingly cheap produce: Kiwis for 0.50€/kilo (about 35 cents per pound), cherries 1.50€/kilo, apples and bananas 0.50€/kilo, nectarines 1.00€/kilo, and all types of bread for 1.25€/kilo (about 75 cents per pound). We didn't bother even looking at the veggies because we would have no way to cook them, but I am sure they were cheap, too. It kinda makes you wonder why you would buy produce at the grocery store for three times as much? There were also several large buildings surrounding the market, each filled with meat, cheese, and bread vendors. Seth insisted on buying cheese from an older fellow with long kinky hair who operated a small stand off to the side. They got chatting and we bought a nice slab of gorgonzola from him, with a special discount. Loaded down with fruit, bread, and cheese, we headed back to the hostel for a great big dinner followed by dessert of fresh pear and gorgonzola.

Porta Palazzo, the largest outdoor market in Europe

Via Giuseppe Garibaldi, where everyone seems to congregate beginning at 4:30pm

Political concert at Piazza San Carlo. Elections are coming soon. Vote Communist.

The view from our suburban hostel overlooks a park and a shady modern art museum. Notice the suspicious guitar player on the bench.

Pear + gorgonzola + boxed wine + old yogurt = delicious

The next morning (yesterday, Tuesday), was a public holiday so we were treated with very light traffic on our run towards the city greenway, which trails off from the Po River at the east of town. The greenway thankfully was dirt and took off uphill leading to a nice view of the city from someone's private property. On our way back down we rounded a corner and came face to face (almost literally) with a German Shepherd off its leash. It came towards us barking, and though at first we both thought it was a friendly or excited bark, it definitely was aggressive. The dog didn't snarl or bare its teeth, but it did charge us and put its mouth on Seth's leg, then mine, the Seth's again. Seth shouted at it and tried to kick at it--I was unsure if I should join in and curse at it and try to hit it with a stick, but in my uncertainty (I didn't want the dog to totally lose it and actually attack us), I just stood my ground and let Seth do the yelling. All the while its owner, a middle-age woman holding a long stick, called and shouted at the dog, but kept a comfortable distance of maybe 15 metres. Why did she not come over and pull it off of us? Why did she not hit it? After several lunges and lots of barking, the dog finally backed off. Why do people let their aggressive dogs off leashes? Why do they not discipline their animals? Though I think some dogs are dangerous and are hazards, I put most of my blame on their owners. I'm just glad this one didn't actually decide to bite down on us--we walked away with slobber and a light scratch on Seth, though nothing like the dog bite he received in Vietnam.

The view from the greenway

The birds in the park. I wish I saw (or heard) the Cuculo.

The rest of the day was not nearly as eventful--because of the holiday quite a few stores were closed, but in the afternoon while we were enjoying nice big gelatos a parade came marching down the street. Like Ferrara, it had a historical theme, though unlike Ferrara, they didn't seem to take it very seriously; many of the participants were chewing gum, looking around, and chatting with each other. Maybe in a few hundred more years they will get it right.

Piazza___?

Po River

Big man, tiny cup, cute chocolates

The afternoon ritual

Watching the Republic Day parade

We spent the evening trying to decide between staying in Turin the rest of our time in Italy or if we should try to move on to another city for our last night; moving would risk Seth not finishing in the library, as well as require train and hotel booking, packing and unpacking, and of course, physically moving, all for just 24 hours in a new city. We decided to just sleep on it.

This morning we still hadn't decided on what to do--even after our run we were still torn between going or staying. We eventually came to the conclusion to try to leave town in the afternoon, if Seth could finish his work in the library. He managed to wrap things up just as the library was closing (2pm again), so after making one more round at the gigantic outdoor market (unbelievably held every weekday) for bread rolls and more cheese from the quirky old fellow (little did I know that the cheese I selected, Fontina, has its own Designation of Protected Origin and is produced in the Valle d'Aosta, where we were headed), we had our typical lunch, took the bus back to the hostel to grab our stuff and book a hotel for tonight (with the help of the hotel owner), went back to the train station and hopped on the next train to Aosta.

The regional train to Valle d'Aosta

Two views of Florence

Sunday, May 31st 2009
Day 12
Written en route to Turin, Italy at 7:15pm

We are currently on the super slow regional train heading to Turin, leaving Florence. The past two days have been a blur of cathedrals, leather shops, tiny, buzzing streets, and sleepless nights. Though I'll admit the 'must see' tourist attractions were quite impressive--I found the Duomo's beauty to come from its simple grandeur, and who knew David looked so apprehensive from his left side?--we also found the most memorable and exciting moments to come from happenstance.

On Friday night we were able to get in contact with two professors Seth had become close with back in Chapel Hill, Dr. Nadas and Dr. Haar. They spend much of their summers in Italy conducting research on Renaissance culture and usually base themselves in Florence. After cleaning ourselves up the best we could in our scuzzy hostel and putting on the best of our 'travelling clothes', we met John and Jim at an upscale cafe right in the Piazza della Signora, once the center of the Florence's political activity. After drinks of wine and whiskey they took us around a few clever corners to a dark alley with a neon 'Ristorante' sign hanging above a door. Quaint and hidden from tourists, we found the ideal family owned restaurant. John was quickly greeted by the wife and he acknowledged the husband cooking behind the counter (it was apparent he was a regular). We were poured two more wines, little fried dough things, and delicate melt-in-your-mouth swordfish carpaccio. For primi piatti (first plate) Seth and I ordered the same dish--a perfectly light and fluffy gnocchi. Finally, they treated us to espresso and a platter of formaggio (cheese) and pere mature (ripe pears). I never understood the deal over the combination of pear and gorgonzola until that evening. It was like heaven. After having eaten out a couple times on our trip and walking away disappointed, we finally got to experience the food that we were hoping to find in Italy, and shown, by experts, how to eat it. The entire time John was chatting with the wife and cracking Renaissance-oriented jokes in Italian (which of course I didn't get), showing off his knowledge of 16th century poetry, culture, and his fluency in the vernacular. Jim, Seth's older mentor, was brilliant and encouraging and clearly proud of Seth's good work. The evening was so lively and fun and Seth and I instantly agreed it would be difficult to express our appreciation.

Dr. Haar and Dr. Nadas in the Piazza della Signoria

Yesterday night was equally surprising. After a long, tiring day, we rushed over to the Basilica di Santa Croce for the 6pm mass--the church closed at 5:30pm to paying entrants but opens at 6pm for a Saturday evening service--we decided to get in via mass. Santa Croce is home to both extraordinary artwork and the remains of influential historical figures, and we hoped to arrive early enough before mass to walk around the chapel for a quick peek. Unfortunately we arrived late--which wasn't too bad considering we had a hard time following the Italian sermon--and when it ended we inconspicuously strolled around, frantically absorbing as much of the history as possible before getting kicked out. After a couple minutes the congregation cleared out and the lights were being shut off, and we were approached by a Franciscan priest. He started talking to Seth (I don't really know how or why), but after a few moments the priest said 'ah, United States, I show you the true free Liberty'. He walked us over to the back of the cathedral to show us a monument of Liberty, said to be the inspiration for the Statue of Liberty in New York City, but this one was free of its chains. Truly Free. Then he said, 'do you see Michelangelo? I show you Michelangelo'. He walked us over to a corner, and sure enough, there was the extravagant tomb of Michelangelo. And then he showed us to the final resting place of Galileo, directly across the hall (I was totally thrilled to see this). Then the composer Rossini. Then Napoleon's sister and cousin. He led us into a separate room to show off relics of St. Francis, and explained the water damage in the halls and how many pieces of art suffered a terrible 4m high flood in 1966. After a few minutes of leading us around the cathedral, Seth asked 'and Brunelleschi has works here?' Father said, 'Yes, Brunelleschi. The cathedral is closed, but I can show it specially for you.' He pulled out a key from his pocket and took us into the cloisters designed by Brunelleschi, and finally, into a circular room called Cappella de'Pazzi, described as Brunelleschi's most impressive work, a masterpiece of Renaissance architecture (Seth had wanted to see this). Indeed, the cathedral was so impressive and packed with so many influential pieces that it was a shame to not spend more time there--we probably could have explored it for many hours. However, it seemed so unique and satisfying to be led by a priest on a private, after-hours tour away from the rest of the mob that it didn't matter. As we left Santa Croce's gate and returned to the rest of the world we both felt shell shocked and bedazzled that that could happen to us.

On the way up to Piazzale Michelangelo

The view from Piazzale Michelangelo

The Duomo (Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore) at
about 6:30am -- before the crowds set in

The Last Judgement, the ceiling of the Duomo

Ponte Vecchio, the covered bridge--before the crowd arrives

The mob at Ponte Vecchio

Chiesa di Santa Margherita, where Dante first saw his muse, Beatrice, and wed Gemma (both women are burried here). Dante lived across the street.

Why can't there be more little electric three wheelers?

The Rape of the Sabines (the original), Galleria dell'Accademia.

Gelato

Cellini's Perseus with the Head of Medusa, in the Loggia della Signoria

Piazza della Signoria
(again, an early-morning run to beat the crowds)

The leather stalls at the Mercato de San Lorenzo. As touristy as it is, I must admit I bought a hat here.

Mercato di Sant'Ambrogio: the outdoor food market

Mass at the Duomo the morning we left Florence

BFF (Bologna, Ferrara, Florence)

Thursday, May 28th 2009
Day 9
Written from Florence, Italy at 10:45pm

The past two days have been getting us out of our 'routine', with yesterday involving a day-trip to Bologna (pop. 385,000), only 30-60min from Ferrara by train.

From Central Station, we walked through the city center (Piazza del Nettuno and Piazza Maggiore) to the Palazza dell' Archiginnosio. I believe this is a part of the University of Bologna, the oldest Uni in Europe (1088AD, even older than UNC!). We arrived early enough to view the Teatro Anatomico, where human cadavers were once dissected under the scrutiny of an Inqiusition priest, and walked through parts of their massive library (Biblioteca Comunale).

Piazza del Nettuno (view from the Palazzo Comunale)

Teatro Anatomico

Biblioteca Comunale (the walls are decorated with the professors' coasts of arms)

During the mid-afternoon break--the two hours or so mid-day when absolutely everything closes--we had some leftovers for lunch then walked through a couple art galleries in the Palazzo Comunale (Collezioni Comunali d'Arte, and Museo Morandi, with an exhibit featuring Italian modern artist Filippo de Pisis).

Collezioni Comunali d'Arte (art gallery)

To test our eyes even more, we headed for the gigantic, incomplete, and (in my opinion) somewhat unappealing Basilica di San Petroni, the fourth largest Cathedral in Europe, then compared that with the Basilica di San Domenico, dedicated to St. Domenic, the founder of the Dominican Order. Seth and I both preferred this more simple cathedral, and even saw several Domenican priests in the courtyard, pacing with their bible, just like Father Laurie from Johns used to do.

Basilica di San Petroni (view from Palazzo Comunale)

From here we walked through the Quadrilatero, Bologna's big gourmet food district, and admired all the huge meaty pig legs hanging in the windows, then found ourselves wanting to grab an early dinner. We asked a lady on the street for a good place to have dinner, but she told us that restaurants don't open until 7pm. It being only 5:45, we teated ourselves to an appetiser of gelato. However, we didn't have just any gelato--we went to La Sorbetteria Castiglione, which many people say has the best gelato in Italy (it even had the awards to prove it). Our tre gusti (flavours/scoops) came wedged inside a big, fluffy focaccia bun, so you know it was good.

One of the many delis in the Quadrilatero. What impressive hams!

Our focaccia gelato from La Sorbetteria Castiglione

La Rossa

We headed up north, past the Torre degli Asinelli and Torre Garisenda (two VERY leaning towers--the shorter of the two 3.2m off center), before it began to rain and thunder very heavily. Forgetting our umbrellas, we ran into one of the first restaurants we came across. As Bologna is the food capital of Italy, and since Italy has some of the best food in the world, we were both pretty interested in sampling some of the city's cheesy, meaty, specialties, like lasagna and tortellini in meatsauce (ragu). However, this restaurant--actually, it was more of a pizzeria--only had a couple meaty pasta dishes and a whole bunch of other things. I got their one pasta that came with meatsauce and Seth had a seafood pasta, and we split a marinara pizza (these just have sauce, oregano, and garlic--no cheese). Mine was pretty good, though Seth's was a bit too creamy and he felt sick afterwards. They even drenched the pizza in olive oil, which didn't make Seth's stomach feel any better. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly the dinner we were dreaming about. (I later read that we were in the wrong part of town for restaurants--we should have been in the university district, but it would have been hard to get there through the pouring rain). After dinner we slogged back to the train station and off to sleepy, quiet Ferrara.

Bologna's leaning towers: Torre degli Asinelli (right) and Torre Garisenda (left)

Seth noticing the cream and foreseeing a stomachache

Mine was alright (though a bit small)

Today, after our run, we checked out of our room in Ferrara, and Seth zipped down to the library to finish his work. I stayed behind and enjoyed my last few hours in our neighborhood and hung out in the hostel with its long-term resident, a Japanese woman who was waiting for her fiance in the Naval Reserves. By 2pm Seth had returned and we had to rush over to the train station. It was sad to leave--everyone there was really nice and the hostel itself was very clean, comfortable, and at a wonderful low capacity. In fact, Seth and I had that 5-bed dorm to ourselves the entire time, and were only charged €15 each per night.

Ferrara's traditional twisty bread, top shelf and bottom right (ciupéta)

We took the train back down through Bologna and into Florence (pop. 381,000) and checked into our new hostel, the Ostella Santa Monaca. This place, once again, is completely different from the last--a typical busy, cramped, somewhat grimy, backpackers. It even has 22-bed dorms, which I had never seen before (luckily we had a 'coupon' for a discounted 8-bed dorm). To make it worse, its 'full kitchen' to serve up to 110 people is composed of two hot plates, a microwave, mini fridge, and washer and dryer (that's right, they are located under the sink).

After checking in, we whipped up a pasta dinner (taking up both burners), tossed it into our tupperwares, then walked to the massive and extremely beautiful pink and white Duomo to eat as we watched tourists walk by. We spent the rest of the evening exploring the city center and getting excited over what to do tomorrow.

Dinner on the steps of Florence's Duomo, the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore

Basilica di Santa Croce

The Arno (river)

Family dinner by the Arno

Corner fountain

**As a note, the weather since our visit to Bologna and for the rest of the trip would be much more pleasant and seasonable. However, as much as we enjoyed Ferrara (and Venice) I think a part of me will always unfairly associate it with heat and blaring sun.