This is going to be short because I'm way behind but...
Krakow was lovely!!! On the way there we stopped off to see my great aunt Sabina who smelled like jasmine, and my mother's cousin Basha and family, who live in southern Poland and whose children speak excellent English. Southern Poland, near the German border, is clearly more wealthy and -not surprisingly - more German than other parts of Poland, from architecture to general living conditions. There are also a few castles, and quite a bit of industry.
Then, Krakow. Krakow felt less Polish, more European than Warsaw. Again, not surprising given its situation in the South, and the large amount of non-Polish tourists there, much more than any other place we had been. The Old Town is beautiful, left untouched by most wars and distinctly medieval; the old Jewish quarter is now the hip part of town, trendy and filled with cafes and antiques and synagogues that must feel filled with ghosts instead of people during services. As far as I know, there is hardly any actual Jewish people left in Krakow, and Poland generally, having either been killed during or left after the Holocaust.
But Krakow. Its much smaller than Warsaw, and its easy to get out of the city into the surrounding countryside; Kim and I biked to a (relatively) nearby Benedictine monastery, and the ride was lovely, all along the river and past rural houses. On a side note, shops selling Benedictine products are quite common; not sure if they're very good or not, although the fizzy lemon honey drink we tried was, while their chocolate was not (should have seen that coming).
In general, Krakow is smaller, trendier, more European and younger than Warsaw, home to the oldest university in Poland, Jagellonian University. As the old capital, its an emblem of the more glorious Polish past, and the old town is truly lovely. I don't know which one I would prefer to live in; but Warsaw really feels more Polish.
From Krakow we took a 10 hour train to Berlin. Amazingly, you can tell immediately when the train crosses into Germany; suddenly everything is more neat, industrial, grey. Berlin hadn't changed much from when I went to it last (see Adventures Far North). Still quite cool, very big, and very, very Western. And English is spoken everywhere. It really was a bit too Western for me; although the city has a fascinating past, its present doesn't really seem all that different from America, or any other big Western city in a lot of ways. Although it has truly excellent transportation.
And now I'm in Sweden! But more about that later; for now I have to go experience it.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Warsaw!
We entered Warsaw at golden hour, the setting sun firing up the bricks of the Old Town buildings glimpsed from the bridge we were crossing. Arriving without a place to stay, we ended up in an old (late 1800s?) apartment building downtown that had been transformed into a hotel in the distant past. According to my mother, it looked like one of the hotels that had been fancy during Soviet times, now fallen on harder times. Regardless, the marble and granite stairs, the slightly narrow halls, and most of all the strangely tilted yellow corner room in which Kim and I stayed were all very charming. Stepping out for a late walk, we encountered Polish nightlife on the Nowy Swiat (or 'New World') street, closed to cars on the weekend, before grabbing a light and long-awaited bite to eat, then stumbled back to bed.
Warsaw is a big city. The biggest in Poland, and perhaps the most strongly Polish. It feels distinctive, and a little hard, and not too young. They were at the end of a Gay Pride week while we were there, so it might also be the most liberal Polish city (although my mother says that Polish Catholics, while religious, don't hold much with conservative views; for example, they support the right to abortion) During our two days in Warsaw in the mornings we awoke to find our street and the car scattered with ads for sex services like the erotic leaves of some strange tree. Some were even stuck tenaciously into the window cracks and under the windshield wipers of the parked cars. We set off through Warsaw to an outdoor market. Quickly leaving the older and more architecturally charming center, we quickly enter an area of the city occupied by buildings that remind me of Russia; grey, blocky, sometimes decorated with graffiti and occasionally with murals.
The market, set in a residential neighborhood under impromptu shelters and no blankets, had experienced a hard rain earlier in the morning, failing to dampen the spirits of anyone involved but leaving teacups still filled with water.
We also saw the Warsaw Uprising museum, an incredible museum laid out in a large bunker, creatively and effectively using the space to pay tribute to Warsaw during WWII; the invasion, occupation, resistance, devastation and finally rebuilding of a city purposefully destroyed by the Nazis even as they departed, stranded by the Allies despite their need and yet rebuilt by the Polish people. Its hard to explain the power of a museum so visual in writing; suffice to say I did not previously realize the extent of Warsaw's destruction and it made me cry.
The Poster Museum had posters, although sadly none from the Soviet times since they were all contemporary. The famous Lakientovich (thatis surely spelled wrong) gardens were also beautiful, the Old City (resurrected from the ashes of WWII) beautifully painted and ornate, an abrupt contrast to newer, especially Soviet Era buildings. The large pedestrian boulevards filled with street performers in the evening, some spinning fire, many playing instruments, one blowing fire out of a tuba as it played in an inventive combination fo the two. In Warsaw, tired of Polish food from our days of being fed in the country, we tried the Polish take on Mexican food (interesting, although dill is not the same as cilantro), Turkish food (again, dill in with the cabbage in the kebabs, and served in a tortilla of all things) and Asian food (of indeterminate origin and 'spring rolls' that were almost entirely meat but the best of the lot, no dill in sight and seemingly authentic although what do I know).
In short, Warsaw a very interesting, quite big city. It has a large university, a seemingly large liberal and international community and, in short, is a large European capitol. That said, there is something very Polish about Warsaw. Maybe a determination to keep building and moving forward, from a past when there was no Poland. An entrepeneural but also nationalistic spirit.
Warsaw is a big city. The biggest in Poland, and perhaps the most strongly Polish. It feels distinctive, and a little hard, and not too young. They were at the end of a Gay Pride week while we were there, so it might also be the most liberal Polish city (although my mother says that Polish Catholics, while religious, don't hold much with conservative views; for example, they support the right to abortion) During our two days in Warsaw in the mornings we awoke to find our street and the car scattered with ads for sex services like the erotic leaves of some strange tree. Some were even stuck tenaciously into the window cracks and under the windshield wipers of the parked cars. We set off through Warsaw to an outdoor market. Quickly leaving the older and more architecturally charming center, we quickly enter an area of the city occupied by buildings that remind me of Russia; grey, blocky, sometimes decorated with graffiti and occasionally with murals.
The market, set in a residential neighborhood under impromptu shelters and no blankets, had experienced a hard rain earlier in the morning, failing to dampen the spirits of anyone involved but leaving teacups still filled with water.
We also saw the Warsaw Uprising museum, an incredible museum laid out in a large bunker, creatively and effectively using the space to pay tribute to Warsaw during WWII; the invasion, occupation, resistance, devastation and finally rebuilding of a city purposefully destroyed by the Nazis even as they departed, stranded by the Allies despite their need and yet rebuilt by the Polish people. Its hard to explain the power of a museum so visual in writing; suffice to say I did not previously realize the extent of Warsaw's destruction and it made me cry.
The Poster Museum had posters, although sadly none from the Soviet times since they were all contemporary. The famous Lakientovich (thatis surely spelled wrong) gardens were also beautiful, the Old City (resurrected from the ashes of WWII) beautifully painted and ornate, an abrupt contrast to newer, especially Soviet Era buildings. The large pedestrian boulevards filled with street performers in the evening, some spinning fire, many playing instruments, one blowing fire out of a tuba as it played in an inventive combination fo the two. In Warsaw, tired of Polish food from our days of being fed in the country, we tried the Polish take on Mexican food (interesting, although dill is not the same as cilantro), Turkish food (again, dill in with the cabbage in the kebabs, and served in a tortilla of all things) and Asian food (of indeterminate origin and 'spring rolls' that were almost entirely meat but the best of the lot, no dill in sight and seemingly authentic although what do I know).
In short, Warsaw a very interesting, quite big city. It has a large university, a seemingly large liberal and international community and, in short, is a large European capitol. That said, there is something very Polish about Warsaw. Maybe a determination to keep building and moving forward, from a past when there was no Poland. An entrepeneural but also nationalistic spirit.
Poland: Beginnings
First, a few general notes about Poland. Poland is a land of cruiser bikes, riden by many many people all over the flat, flat countryside and towns. It has reimerging traditional style visible in newer buildings and restaurants lining the roads. It is surprisingly hot during the summer, especially as we arrived during a heat wave. It is lush and surprisingly colorful. Left over from the Soviet Era it has grey blocky buildings and wariness lurking at the very corners of the older generations' eyes. It has member status in the EU, and is attempting to meet the criteria for full inclusion. It is a country with a long memory.
Now, Poland. We landed in Warsaw and immediately left, driving out to the country to see our/mmy mother's relatives. What followed was days of being dined, conversated and generally cared for by the relatives for a few lovely days. We first stayed with my mother's cousin Valdek's family, consisting for his wife Eva, daughter Paulina and in-laws. They took us to the local castle, the graveyard where many older generations of the family are buried, on a lovely bikeride through the country. And, of course, they fed us. My gosh, the Polish can feed a girl! Tomates, potatoes, cucumbers, cheese, more cheese, meat, more meat, even more dairy products, tea, coffee, bread, a number of deserts (gelatine is very popular, it being summer). Dill, of course, is a very popular flavoring. Eva is a wonderful cook (Valdek joked that it was the reason that he married her; which was actually the reason that my babsha told my mother to marry my father), and the whole family were incredibly generous hosts. My Polish family are so nice! Its really a pity that I can't talk to them, although we hashed out a language of smiles, nods, gestures and bemusement.
We took a sidetrip to the Baltic Sea, taking Paulina - eager for English practice, and improving every day - with us. The "Sea" strangely resembles a bath in both its relatively warm temperature and placid nature, with a color recalling a sort of green version of amber (its most famous product). The swimming may not have been ideal, but there were thousands of people on that beach, some swimming but many just lounging. To be tan is to be cool, perhaps difficult for a people not known for the swarthiness of their complexions. We stayed on a wonderful farm, complete with kittens, a kitchen for us to use, and even bikes. We ate creamy curled ice cream spires on the beach and debated going to the Polish-Kalingrad border "just to see Russia". On the way back we stopped at Malbork castle, the largest castle complex in Europe and an example of the Polish Gothic, which is interesting given that they built with mainly brick and the Gothic seemed to apply mainly to flat facades. But beautiful, and impressive.
Back in Chechanow, we headed over to meet more relatives, Valdek's sister Gryjina (that is almost certainly spelled wrong), her husband and son. Their farm is large and prosperous, with new equipment and very healthy cows who at one point we helped herd. Again, more friendliness, communication outside of speaking, and food. Particularly what kim and I came to call The Slab. Note; if your hosts don't eat much at dinner, its probably because dessert is waiting. And what dessert! A slab of 'Polish Cheesecake', gelatin, cream cheese and fruit all mixed and layered together, refrigerated, than cut into portions that can only be called giant. I estimate its size as approximately 2 to 2.5 inches tall, 3" in one direction and 4" in the other. Delicious, but my god!
In addition to a farm, cows, a nice house, and lots of dessert, Gryjina's family also had a stream on their property that was dammed slightly to allow for swimming, of which opportunity Kim and I availed ourselves of three times during our 24h stay. But then it was time to leave the countryside and head to the big city; Warsaw.
Now, Poland. We landed in Warsaw and immediately left, driving out to the country to see our/mmy mother's relatives. What followed was days of being dined, conversated and generally cared for by the relatives for a few lovely days. We first stayed with my mother's cousin Valdek's family, consisting for his wife Eva, daughter Paulina and in-laws. They took us to the local castle, the graveyard where many older generations of the family are buried, on a lovely bikeride through the country. And, of course, they fed us. My gosh, the Polish can feed a girl! Tomates, potatoes, cucumbers, cheese, more cheese, meat, more meat, even more dairy products, tea, coffee, bread, a number of deserts (gelatine is very popular, it being summer). Dill, of course, is a very popular flavoring. Eva is a wonderful cook (Valdek joked that it was the reason that he married her; which was actually the reason that my babsha told my mother to marry my father), and the whole family were incredibly generous hosts. My Polish family are so nice! Its really a pity that I can't talk to them, although we hashed out a language of smiles, nods, gestures and bemusement.
We took a sidetrip to the Baltic Sea, taking Paulina - eager for English practice, and improving every day - with us. The "Sea" strangely resembles a bath in both its relatively warm temperature and placid nature, with a color recalling a sort of green version of amber (its most famous product). The swimming may not have been ideal, but there were thousands of people on that beach, some swimming but many just lounging. To be tan is to be cool, perhaps difficult for a people not known for the swarthiness of their complexions. We stayed on a wonderful farm, complete with kittens, a kitchen for us to use, and even bikes. We ate creamy curled ice cream spires on the beach and debated going to the Polish-Kalingrad border "just to see Russia". On the way back we stopped at Malbork castle, the largest castle complex in Europe and an example of the Polish Gothic, which is interesting given that they built with mainly brick and the Gothic seemed to apply mainly to flat facades. But beautiful, and impressive.
Back in Chechanow, we headed over to meet more relatives, Valdek's sister Gryjina (that is almost certainly spelled wrong), her husband and son. Their farm is large and prosperous, with new equipment and very healthy cows who at one point we helped herd. Again, more friendliness, communication outside of speaking, and food. Particularly what kim and I came to call The Slab. Note; if your hosts don't eat much at dinner, its probably because dessert is waiting. And what dessert! A slab of 'Polish Cheesecake', gelatin, cream cheese and fruit all mixed and layered together, refrigerated, than cut into portions that can only be called giant. I estimate its size as approximately 2 to 2.5 inches tall, 3" in one direction and 4" in the other. Delicious, but my god!
In addition to a farm, cows, a nice house, and lots of dessert, Gryjina's family also had a stream on their property that was dammed slightly to allow for swimming, of which opportunity Kim and I availed ourselves of three times during our 24h stay. But then it was time to leave the countryside and head to the big city; Warsaw.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Rome! Rome! Rome! or Eternal City of My Heart
Rome. Rome charmed me inutterably. How could it not? Ruins that pop up around corners, parks,
activity, even bicycles, and energy that is palpable. Rome is a historically important city, like
Venice, but unlike Venice it doesn't lose itself to the past. While the untouchable nature of
Venice is part of its charm, Rome vibrates, and grows, and changes, and is perfect. And, okay,
being a classics nerd helps. It also helps if you have a Classical Archaeology student to show
you around, which we had in the shape of my friend Jacob (Jacob, I owe you a thousand thank-
yous).
The apartment was nothing to write home about, but its owner was a hilarious pizza man who owns
a place called 'Pizza Europa' nearby, gave us free pizza the first day we were there AND the
second day, just dropping by, and left DVDs about his business around the apartment. Adorable.
Some of the things we saw in Rome: The Colosseum (hard not to); the Forum, full of vague
intruiging shadows of what stood there before; the 'Sacred Steps', imported by Constantine's
mother Anna from Pontius Pilates' house in Jerusaleum, complete with drops of Jesus' blood under
glass from his last day on earth, aka the holiest place on the planet - or they were when the
popes used the building as their private chapel, anyway - and the beautiful church next door, San
Giovanni, that has the old bronze doors from the Roman Senate building and the Pope as its
Bishop; a lot of obelisks, including one dating from the 16th century BC; manyVaticn , many
churches, the most hidden of them my favorite; pizza everywhere; more people of different
ethnicities than anywhere else in Italy; thousands of people; of course, many ruins.
Things I have learned while in Rome: Romans are constantly stealing from ruins and using them to
build other things, the best example probably being the Arch of Constantine, made up entirely of
older sculptures that were pasted on. The Catholic Church was particularly good at this. They
stole things from Roman buildings or built over them, and rearranged the obelisks by churches and
in other key places that gave their glory - first Egyptian, later Roman - to the Church rather
than the heathens that had held them before.
Speaking of the Church, Josh and I also went to the Vatican; an impressive church, although
noticeably similar to *coughacopyofcough* San Giovanni's, which I believe was the first public
church in Rome, on the spot where Constantine declared, after having won the fight for Rome. The
crypt of the Vatican was really more interesting, Popes and queens, including the (guarded) tomb
of John Paul II, a very popular Pope. One Pope, the one before JPII, only reigned for 33 days
before dying, which may have had something to do with them electing such a young Pope as his
successor.
We also had the best pizza in Rome, for which it is famous. My father knows an old friend from
grad school whose family lives just outside of Rome, so we went to their favorite pizza place our
second night there. How delicious! Light crust, perfect sauce, beautiful ingredients and just
lovely flavors. Bellissimo!!!!
In short, Rome was fabulous. Glittering, glorious, fabulous. The thing I admire most is that the
Romans LIVE in their ancient city; use its ruins, work around them, aren't afraid of building, or
trying new things. No wonder they call it the Eternal City.
activity, even bicycles, and energy that is palpable. Rome is a historically important city, like
Venice, but unlike Venice it doesn't lose itself to the past. While the untouchable nature of
Venice is part of its charm, Rome vibrates, and grows, and changes, and is perfect. And, okay,
being a classics nerd helps. It also helps if you have a Classical Archaeology student to show
you around, which we had in the shape of my friend Jacob (Jacob, I owe you a thousand thank-
yous).
The apartment was nothing to write home about, but its owner was a hilarious pizza man who owns
a place called 'Pizza Europa' nearby, gave us free pizza the first day we were there AND the
second day, just dropping by, and left DVDs about his business around the apartment. Adorable.
Some of the things we saw in Rome: The Colosseum (hard not to); the Forum, full of vague
intruiging shadows of what stood there before; the 'Sacred Steps', imported by Constantine's
mother Anna from Pontius Pilates' house in Jerusaleum, complete with drops of Jesus' blood under
glass from his last day on earth, aka the holiest place on the planet - or they were when the
popes used the building as their private chapel, anyway - and the beautiful church next door, San
Giovanni, that has the old bronze doors from the Roman Senate building and the Pope as its
Bishop; a lot of obelisks, including one dating from the 16th century BC; manyVaticn , many
churches, the most hidden of them my favorite; pizza everywhere; more people of different
ethnicities than anywhere else in Italy; thousands of people; of course, many ruins.
Things I have learned while in Rome: Romans are constantly stealing from ruins and using them to
build other things, the best example probably being the Arch of Constantine, made up entirely of
older sculptures that were pasted on. The Catholic Church was particularly good at this. They
stole things from Roman buildings or built over them, and rearranged the obelisks by churches and
in other key places that gave their glory - first Egyptian, later Roman - to the Church rather
than the heathens that had held them before.
Speaking of the Church, Josh and I also went to the Vatican; an impressive church, although
noticeably similar to *coughacopyofcough* San Giovanni's, which I believe was the first public
church in Rome, on the spot where Constantine declared, after having won the fight for Rome. The
crypt of the Vatican was really more interesting, Popes and queens, including the (guarded) tomb
of John Paul II, a very popular Pope. One Pope, the one before JPII, only reigned for 33 days
before dying, which may have had something to do with them electing such a young Pope as his
successor.
We also had the best pizza in Rome, for which it is famous. My father knows an old friend from
grad school whose family lives just outside of Rome, so we went to their favorite pizza place our
second night there. How delicious! Light crust, perfect sauce, beautiful ingredients and just
lovely flavors. Bellissimo!!!!
In short, Rome was fabulous. Glittering, glorious, fabulous. The thing I admire most is that the
Romans LIVE in their ancient city; use its ruins, work around them, aren't afraid of building, or
trying new things. No wonder they call it the Eternal City.
Florence, the 'Flower' of Italy
So, Florence! A beautiful city, and as hoped, much more relaxed than Venice. The apartment we
stayed in was very --tastefully - girly; pink walls and flowered wallpaper and curtains, white
furniture, and best of all a circular bed covered in cushions (my parents slept on the couch). It
was in central Florence, in an apartment whose shutters overlooked the street, caked with layers
of paint covered with the newest dark green layer. The apartment was in central Florence, a short
walk to everywhere we wanted to go, and close enough to the Duomo, the huge central cathedral,
that we kept stumbling over it, catching it out of the corners of our eyes down winding cobbled
streets. Also the mostlaidback place that we stayed, doinng only the most imperative museums, the
Accademia to see the David and the Offizi (sp?) to see everything else. It must be said, the
David is a beautiful piece of sculpture; huge, and intensely detailed. It muse be one of the most
beautiful sculptures in the world, deserving of all the hype. My question, though, is why
photograph it only from that one angle? It seems that every time it is reproduced is always from
the front. But walking around the statue, and looking into David's eyes from different angles,
you experience the range of emotion that you can imagine would have filled the eyes of a real
David. Confidence of the young, calculation, anxiety, fear, hopelessness. The biggest advantage
to sculpture must be its 3D nature, because every I felt like I discovered something in every
inch of that sculpture as I walked around David.
The rest of Florence melted into cafe and dulce in the mornings at our neighborhood cafe, a long
afternoon bikeride around and through the city and its surrounding hills (the feel of real
Italian countryside), walks, the gorgeous food market and slightly sketchy souvenir market,
watching the World Cup, being very warm since the apartment had not air conditioning, gelato, and
one of the best meals I have ever had in my life at a little restaurant called Aquacella, family
-owned and with a waitress married to the chef, who joked, served us extra olive oil, and
convinced us into a dessert that we didn't mean to get. It was a truly fantastic meal.
The bicycle riding was perhaps my favorite part, because I miss my bike terribly. And may I say,
Italian drivers may be crazy, but it is a cool and calculated craziness that actually made me
feel safer than biking in Texas. Because Italian drivers - get this - RESPECT bikes as vehicles
of transportation. I know, crazy. So even if you're going through a round about and you're
convinced that any second you will be smooshed, if you claim a spot in a land and follow it
around, Italian drivers will give you that space and respect it, even if you are going slower
than they are. If you can take the space, you have it! Wonderful.
But wait, did I just throughtlessly skip over the GELATO??? Florence claims to have invented
gelato, and the gelato we had in that city was certainly the best that I have ever had in my
life. Especially the grapefruit gelato from a little place around our corner. Imagine the most
juicy, delicious grapefruit you have ever had, take its essence, make it icy and three times as
refreshing, and you have that gelato. My god, it was good.
Essentially, Florence entirely made up for anything we were missing from Venice that we had been
expecting from Italy. Art, gelato and great food, beauty, and a certain measure of serenity. The
perfect rest before a visit to the Eternal City.
stayed in was very --tastefully - girly; pink walls and flowered wallpaper and curtains, white
furniture, and best of all a circular bed covered in cushions (my parents slept on the couch). It
was in central Florence, in an apartment whose shutters overlooked the street, caked with layers
of paint covered with the newest dark green layer. The apartment was in central Florence, a short
walk to everywhere we wanted to go, and close enough to the Duomo, the huge central cathedral,
that we kept stumbling over it, catching it out of the corners of our eyes down winding cobbled
streets. Also the mostlaidback place that we stayed, doinng only the most imperative museums, the
Accademia to see the David and the Offizi (sp?) to see everything else. It must be said, the
David is a beautiful piece of sculpture; huge, and intensely detailed. It muse be one of the most
beautiful sculptures in the world, deserving of all the hype. My question, though, is why
photograph it only from that one angle? It seems that every time it is reproduced is always from
the front. But walking around the statue, and looking into David's eyes from different angles,
you experience the range of emotion that you can imagine would have filled the eyes of a real
David. Confidence of the young, calculation, anxiety, fear, hopelessness. The biggest advantage
to sculpture must be its 3D nature, because every I felt like I discovered something in every
inch of that sculpture as I walked around David.
The rest of Florence melted into cafe and dulce in the mornings at our neighborhood cafe, a long
afternoon bikeride around and through the city and its surrounding hills (the feel of real
Italian countryside), walks, the gorgeous food market and slightly sketchy souvenir market,
watching the World Cup, being very warm since the apartment had not air conditioning, gelato, and
one of the best meals I have ever had in my life at a little restaurant called Aquacella, family
-owned and with a waitress married to the chef, who joked, served us extra olive oil, and
convinced us into a dessert that we didn't mean to get. It was a truly fantastic meal.
The bicycle riding was perhaps my favorite part, because I miss my bike terribly. And may I say,
Italian drivers may be crazy, but it is a cool and calculated craziness that actually made me
feel safer than biking in Texas. Because Italian drivers - get this - RESPECT bikes as vehicles
of transportation. I know, crazy. So even if you're going through a round about and you're
convinced that any second you will be smooshed, if you claim a spot in a land and follow it
around, Italian drivers will give you that space and respect it, even if you are going slower
than they are. If you can take the space, you have it! Wonderful.
But wait, did I just throughtlessly skip over the GELATO??? Florence claims to have invented
gelato, and the gelato we had in that city was certainly the best that I have ever had in my
life. Especially the grapefruit gelato from a little place around our corner. Imagine the most
juicy, delicious grapefruit you have ever had, take its essence, make it icy and three times as
refreshing, and you have that gelato. My god, it was good.
Essentially, Florence entirely made up for anything we were missing from Venice that we had been
expecting from Italy. Art, gelato and great food, beauty, and a certain measure of serenity. The
perfect rest before a visit to the Eternal City.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Escape from Venice: Padua
First, a small disclaimer:
For some reason, I thought that blogging while travelling would be easy. My sister has a computer, everywhere has internet these days - or so I thought - so how hard could it be?
Well, turns out that I got my math wrong. 1 computer / 4 people = 0.25 computer/person. Added on top of that, average internet access = approximately 15 minutes/day, so 0.25 * 15 = only 3.somesmallnumber of computer minutes on the internet, person/day. Or something like that.
Needless to say, this has not been working well for blogging. Its just so interesting to be travelling, and there's so little computer time that I have been terrible about keeping up. My apologies! Now we are driving around poland, so copious in-car time means a chance to blog, and perhaps even catch up.
Dont let me forget Padua (in Italian, Padova). In addition to its appreance in Shakespeare plays - the initial draw - Padua was very much worth the short visit we made to it on the way from Venice to Florence. Renowned as the 'brains of Veneto (the region in which Venice is sitauted)', Padua is still a university town, built out around the beautiful old medieval town center that contain the 'second best' produce market in Italy (after Bologna, the culinary center of Italy). Most importantly for our purposes, Padua contains the Scovegni Chapel, built in the 13th century and decorated by Giotti and his assistants between 1303 and 1305 over 200 working days. The frescoes are apparently considered by many to be the first work of modern art (modern as in post-Middle Ages, not modern as in Jackson Pollock). In order to maintain the frescoes, the chapel is tightly sealed, strictly air-conditioned and only 25 visitors at maximum are allowed in at a time, for only 15 minutes. In order to avoid letting in warmer air as visitors enter, we were first treated to an informational video in the room adjacent to the chapel as the air around us climatized; it was largely unhelpful, but subtitled in English, occasionally hilariously. A buzzer went off at the end, and we were allowed into the chapel itself. The frescoes (detailing scenes from St.Anne, Mary, and mostly Jesus' life, what a surprise in famously Catholic Italy) are gorgeous, the precision and humanity with which Giotto painted making it no surprise that he was famous in his own lifetime. His art, including hte chapel, arguably influenced artists for hundreds of years; the informative video attempted to make this point by comparing his paintings to those of later artists, with some comparisons striking, others fanciful. The depictions of women were particularly touching, the tears from their eyes as their babies were struck from them gripping in the Slaughter of the Innocents. Certainly a worthwhile sight.
The rest of Padua was rushed, although Josh and I did make it to the Basilica, which was a glorious mishmash of styles, colors and portraiture. Each alcove was decorated in its own way, with starry blue midnight sky often painted overhead, the architecture a fascinating combination between catholic and Byzantine. My favorite basilica or church in Europe that we visited, although or visit only lasted about fifteen minutes because we had to run to catch the tram back to the train station (and we almost didn't go inside, but were instantly glad the minute we did).
A run for the tram, to the train station, and it was off to Florence for us all.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Venice in Pieces
Venice (in summer) is hot, humid, and crowded with hordes of tourists. Some of the are Italian, many of them are foreign and all of them are crowded into the alleyways, plazas, museums and simply everywhere in the ancient city. The main - and even minorly - tourist areas of the city cant help feel like a tourist trap. It was slightly claustrophobic, and very hot, especially compared to the Canary Islands and even to Barcelona.
But those were all the bad things. Besides that, Venice is extraordinary. Its a cliche, but its true. It lives up to the reputation through the simple fact that it is built unlike anywhere else in the world, and was one of the main seats of power in Europe for centuries, a power that still contains allure. The sights are stunning; the grand palazzos up and down the grand canal and scattered throughout, the heavy churches, canals and cobbled lanes. We saw a number of the main draws; San Marco Square, St. Mark's Basilica, the Doge's Palace, the Correr Museum, the bridges, the canals. We also spent a huge amount of time walking; to the Square, around it, through it, to the market, to the water, just wandering. It allowed us to escape the tourist crowds; another benefit to staying in an apartment centrally located but off the main streets, as we did. Famous for good reason.
And Venice IS just beautiful, in every way; its elegance speaks of the dedication to beauty in all its aesthetic forms of those who lived, and still live, there. Yet I also felt that theres something sad about Venice, the once-powerful and now tourist-filled city living through its past, selling its beauty, unable to expand on its islands, slowly sinking into the lagoon and flooded every year in the winter. There was something of not quite decay, but maybe stagnation. Then again, the ruin is part of the charm.
The Doge's Palace was fascinating for its look into the government of Venice and the power of the Doge. St Marks Basilica was a fantastic combination of Byzantium and Medieval Italian architecture, with stunning tile and mosaicwork and amazing detailing on an epic scale (and throngs of visitors, unfortunately). San Marco square is ringed by fantastical building, including the ones above. But in many ways my favorite part of Venice was when we took the water buses outside the city proper, onto surrounding islands. Although we didnt make it to the Armenian monastery on an island in the middle of hte lagoon - only open to a single water bus each day - we did make it to Lido, the fishbone shaped island with a beach on the Adriatic. We went swimming in water that felt like a swimming pool or at times, a bath, but it was still refreshing. We also visited Burano, the lace citadel of Venice, full of short and incredibly, extremely and almost eye-wateringly bright houses. Fuschia. Orange. Turquoise. Violet. The colors were almost unbelieveable, and the island had a sleepy, neighborly feel that almost made you feel like Venice was in another world, or rather, the world you had so easily entered was not quite real (Kim referred to it as 'Wonderland'). The views from the water buses were superb.
Some other things warmed my heart about Venice that weren't sights but rather small experiences. There was the fruit and vegetable seller who moved slowly and handled each vegetable and fruit like it had feelings, and who gave us extra mushrooms in our bag. The Italian woman our first day during lunch spoke Italian to us emphatically and cheerily assumed that we would understand (we managed to order delicious food, so it all worked out). My favorite thing about Venice, though, was the small touches. Walking down a narrow alley and glancing up to see an unknowably old stone carving adorning the lintel of an archway, or an intricately wrought ironwork balcony. Ancient Venice has left traces of herself everywhere in the city, breathing through the cracks, cobblestones and centuries into corners and crannies of her current incarnation.
Now we're riding through a serene and lovely countryside, on the way to Florence. It actually looks like you could breathe outside, out among the vibrant green fields, grapevines and quite roads studded with lemon, orane, apple and peach-colored houses with tiled terracotta roofs. Its a relief to be out of Venice; hopefully Florence is at least somewhat calmer.
But those were all the bad things. Besides that, Venice is extraordinary. Its a cliche, but its true. It lives up to the reputation through the simple fact that it is built unlike anywhere else in the world, and was one of the main seats of power in Europe for centuries, a power that still contains allure. The sights are stunning; the grand palazzos up and down the grand canal and scattered throughout, the heavy churches, canals and cobbled lanes. We saw a number of the main draws; San Marco Square, St. Mark's Basilica, the Doge's Palace, the Correr Museum, the bridges, the canals. We also spent a huge amount of time walking; to the Square, around it, through it, to the market, to the water, just wandering. It allowed us to escape the tourist crowds; another benefit to staying in an apartment centrally located but off the main streets, as we did. Famous for good reason.
And Venice IS just beautiful, in every way; its elegance speaks of the dedication to beauty in all its aesthetic forms of those who lived, and still live, there. Yet I also felt that theres something sad about Venice, the once-powerful and now tourist-filled city living through its past, selling its beauty, unable to expand on its islands, slowly sinking into the lagoon and flooded every year in the winter. There was something of not quite decay, but maybe stagnation. Then again, the ruin is part of the charm.
The Doge's Palace was fascinating for its look into the government of Venice and the power of the Doge. St Marks Basilica was a fantastic combination of Byzantium and Medieval Italian architecture, with stunning tile and mosaicwork and amazing detailing on an epic scale (and throngs of visitors, unfortunately). San Marco square is ringed by fantastical building, including the ones above. But in many ways my favorite part of Venice was when we took the water buses outside the city proper, onto surrounding islands. Although we didnt make it to the Armenian monastery on an island in the middle of hte lagoon - only open to a single water bus each day - we did make it to Lido, the fishbone shaped island with a beach on the Adriatic. We went swimming in water that felt like a swimming pool or at times, a bath, but it was still refreshing. We also visited Burano, the lace citadel of Venice, full of short and incredibly, extremely and almost eye-wateringly bright houses. Fuschia. Orange. Turquoise. Violet. The colors were almost unbelieveable, and the island had a sleepy, neighborly feel that almost made you feel like Venice was in another world, or rather, the world you had so easily entered was not quite real (Kim referred to it as 'Wonderland'). The views from the water buses were superb.
Some other things warmed my heart about Venice that weren't sights but rather small experiences. There was the fruit and vegetable seller who moved slowly and handled each vegetable and fruit like it had feelings, and who gave us extra mushrooms in our bag. The Italian woman our first day during lunch spoke Italian to us emphatically and cheerily assumed that we would understand (we managed to order delicious food, so it all worked out). My favorite thing about Venice, though, was the small touches. Walking down a narrow alley and glancing up to see an unknowably old stone carving adorning the lintel of an archway, or an intricately wrought ironwork balcony. Ancient Venice has left traces of herself everywhere in the city, breathing through the cracks, cobblestones and centuries into corners and crannies of her current incarnation.
Now we're riding through a serene and lovely countryside, on the way to Florence. It actually looks like you could breathe outside, out among the vibrant green fields, grapevines and quite roads studded with lemon, orane, apple and peach-colored houses with tiled terracotta roofs. Its a relief to be out of Venice; hopefully Florence is at least somewhat calmer.
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