9th July. Friday 1005hrs, Hostel campsite, Villa Camerata. Hot and windy.
After the robbing story, I forgot to actually say what a fantastic day we had in Venice on Wednesday. We got off the train and crossed the Ponte degli Scalzi and went into a glassworks. Gemma bought a glass cow for Leanne, and we watched the craftsman at work making elephants from different coloured glass rods.
We walked through the maze-like networks of alleys, canals, streets and campos, enjoying every moment. We had a gorgeous ice cream and we were heading for Ponte di Rialto when it started to rain heavily. We headed into a cafe to shelter and write postcards. I had a ‘cafe coretto’ – espresso with a shot of grappa. It was brilliant, but strong enough to send a hippo hyperactive.
We braved the rain after a while and crossed the Rialto, wandered to Piazza San Marco and cashed a cheque, as after four nights, the hostel bill we were totting up in Verona was getting quite large.
We tried to get into the Basilica through the exit, but there was someone guarding it from the gift shop. There was an immense queue despite ( or maybe because of?) the rain, so we enjoyed the ceilings around the exit and gift shop area and ran away.
We crossed the Ponte della Accademia and went to the glass shop that sold rings, so Gemma could get one. She spent ages choosing one – there was a large selection, and each one was uniquely hand-painted and of a different size, so she didn’t rush the choice. In the end she settled for one that had her favourite design, even if it was a little too small to put on a normal ring finger, and just a touch too big for her little finger. A compromise.
The sun was setting as we returned to Verona and were walking from the station to the hostel, and we paused to appreciate it on the bridge. Gemma took the opportunity to try the ring on her left hand, thinking that the fingers might be slightly smaller than her right, and get a better fit for the ring. It was still tight, and she had to tug it off. The ring span from her fingers, bounced once on the parapet of the bridge with a glassy *!ping!*, and dropped into the Adige.
Eeeeek.
I bought a Venice 2000 calendar which I’ve slipped down the back of my rucksack so it won’t get crumpled.
Yesterday, after checking out of the hostel, my dealings with the police were short, sweet and dealt with quickly, much to my relief. The drive from Verona to Florence was long but enjoyable. Brett has moved on to Chianti (look out Chianti!) and Mira has come in with us in our tent for tonight because there’s no room in the hostel tonight.
Today, we see Florence...
1711hrs Giardino di Boboli
We’ve seen the Botticellis – Birth of Venus and Primavera. The works of Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael were in the Ufizi museum, and we ate lunch on the roof, looking towards the huge domed cathedral, the Duomo, and walked across the Ponte Vecchio, which looked like it had come straight out of a Terry Pratchett book! Talking of Terry Pratchett, when we were exploring Venice (and getting lost) Gemma and I both had the impression that we were walking the streets of Ankh-Morpork. Windy streets, alleys that we couldn’t walk down shoulder to shoulder because they were so narrow, high buildings with washing strung between windows across them, and bell and clock towers occasionally glimpsed from the streets that declared the hour by consensus, ringing at different times across the city.
The Ufizi was really interesting, although the mass of rooms of lesser painters, of the same types of paintings (– ‘The Adoration of The Magi’ cropped up over and over again) became rather too much. Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Adoration...’ fascinated me. He really laid on the background, and because the picture was not resplendent in colour, but in varying dark and light browns, greys and yellows, the recognition of the forms in the painting as I looked at it for longer, entranced me with discovery and the beauty of what I had discovered.
After crossing the Ponte Vecchio we walked to the Piazza dei Pitti, with the enormous variations on the face and body of Michelangelo’s David, and went into the Giardino di Boboli, where the statuary theme continued. We climbed up through the gardens to the Forte di Belvedere where we got some great views of the city (although the Duomo had scaffolding on the side and a few of our constant companions, cranes, littered the landscape).
After that we walked down through the gardens again to a large pond with an island in it, with four bridges (with huge, spiky railings all around) with lemon and lime trees on. Mira wanted some fruit, so she climbed out round the railings (VERY DANGEROUS – DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, FLORENCE OR ANYWHERE, okay?) over the water, and got Gemma to take a picture of her stealing a lime. Just as she did, around the corner came a woman in black with an ID badge (but thankfully no gun) who launched a stream of high velocity Italian at Mira.
Mira put the lime down and sheepishly climbed out, as the woman’s voice wobbled in the high ranges, and her hands shot out at all angles, fiercely demanding, via the universal language of shouting, how the hell she managed to get out there without realising it wasn’t allowed. The woman shooed us, yelling at us in Universalese to go away. We left the park, but not without taking a few pictures of us climbing inside the head of a giant iron ‘David’. After all, art is all about interaction!
After coming back to the hostel, we ate and Gemma and Mira watched Sister Act 2 in the TV room, whilst I rang ‘Go Banana’ – my insurance company – home, and finally caught the last ten minutes of the film.
Getting to sleep in Gemma’s two-man tent, with only one man and two other definite non-men was...interesting. We all got the giggles to some extent and after taking some pictures of the three of us squeezed into the tent, we dozed. Mira left this morning at about 0620, and we managed to drop off in slightly less constricted positions!
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