Fly away...

7/28 Today we said 'arrivederci' to Italy, but not without one last 'hurrah'. While there are many ways one might get to the airport from Venice, the most direct (and certainly most invigorating) is by water taxi - a gondola ride on steroids.  After breakfast with the help of a porter we wheeled our baggage to a the side of a small canal a few alleyways away from the hotel where we boarded a speedboat with room for perhaps a dozen passengers and a fare meter - aka: a water taxi. After climbing aboard, our pilot backed out of the side channel and into the Grande Canal. He proceeded to out and around the island at a slow pace - there being strict speed limits in the canals due to the damage waves from boat wakes can have on the old buildings. It was a nice last chained to see some of the sites and enjoy the ambience of Venice. But once around the island he put it into high gear and following a clearly marked channel bordered by dispersed but regularly spaced wooden pilings, he crossed 'the lagoon' all the way to the airport which has a special docking station a seven-minute walk from the terminal. The entire trip took about forty minutes, during which Lyn and Joe stood at the back of the boat enjoying the rush of air, the blues of sea and sky, the skyline punctuated by church domes and towers, and the sea birds coming and going. Wonderful!

tempted to dive into the waters ...

smooth ride...

 one last look of Italy ... arrivederci! 

Once in the airport we could have been anywhere in the world. The immediacy and intimacy of Italy fading before our eyes - but not our memories! As we stood in line waiting to board the plane, two young ladies overhearing our (to them) amusing attempts at pronouncing some basic Czech salutations, helped us a bit. An hour and a half later we were landing in Prague! The Zenisek homeland! Joe could feel the resonance in his genes as stepped onto Czech 'soil'.

Praha (Prague) at last ...

Lyn's brother, Mamer,  met us right as we entered the terminal from the plane - the privilege of being a diplomat! It was nice  to receive a warm welcome by a familiar face at this midpoint in our escape to the continent. We loaded our luggage into his car and he drove us to their flat in the city, maybe thirty minutes from the airport. Once there, Mamer had to go back to work at the embassy and we were left alone for a couple hours to catch up on sleep - a welcome nap.  As we would be in Prague for several days we felt we could afford the indulgence!  Shortly after we awoke, Merlines - Mamer's wife got home from work and shortly after, whisked us away for an introductory walk through the city. Little Matthew - their five year old son joined us as we walked from the residential neighborhood where their flat is located, through Namesti Miru square, then onto the National Museum, which houses some artwork by František Ženíšek - a relation of uncertain connection which we will have more to say about later, and continuing in a northwesterly direction, to the Old Town Square and across the Vlatave River on Charles Bridge - famous for the parade of statuary that runs along both sides of the bridge, 600 years of use for "processions, battles, and executions".  Along the route Serge sampled Czech sausage, little Mathew called out the numbers on all the trams (streetcars) that passed us, and Joe and Matthew had a continuous game of 'opposites' ("I say, YES!" - "I say NO!"). On first impression, Prague reminded us somewhat of Portland - lots of streetcars and busses sharing streets with cars and pedestrians on streets lined with shops on the ground floor and residential housing above. The architecture however was predominantly Romanesque. As we ventured closer to the Old Town Square, however, the city began to reveal more of its medieval roots. Many streets are narrow and open only to pedestrian traffic - a European feature we wish our fair city would emulate.

Lyn's family - Mamer, Merlines & Matthew ...

With Mr. Matthew ...

beautiful Prague ...

gotta taste that famous Czech sausage ...

strolling at St. Charles bridge ...

at St. Charles bridge with Merlines ...

the golden shoe of St. John of Nepomuc ... touch it for a guaranteed second visit to Praha...

The famous Holy Infant Jesus of Prague ....

By the time we navigated through the crowds and art booths to return back across the bridge, it was time to take a tram back to the flat and have a delicious home cooked meal of prawns, spicy crab and rice (thank you Mamer and Merlines and good night!).

oh beautiful Praha ... the Zeniseks' origin...

Grandiose buildings ...

old town square ....

setting our sight for a good climb to the the top of the tower ...

intricate artwork ...

Fly away...

7/28 Today we said 'arrivederci' to Italy, but not without one last 'hurrah'. While there are many ways one might get to the airport from Venice, the most direct (and certainly most invigorating) is by water taxi - a gondola ride on steroids.  After breakfast with the help of a porter we wheeled our baggage to a the side of a small canal a few alleyways away from the hotel where we boarded a speedboat with room for perhaps a dozen passengers and a fare meter - aka: a water taxi. After climbing aboard, our pilot backed out of the side channel and into the Grande Canal. He proceeded to out and around the island at a slow pace - there being strict speed limits in the canals due to the damage waves from boat wakes can have on the old buildings. It was a nice last chained to see some of the sites and enjoy the ambience of Venice. But once around the island he put it into high gear and following a clearly marked channel bordered by dispersed but regularly spaced wooden pilings, he crossed 'the lagoon' all the way to the airport which has a special docking station a seven-minute walk from the terminal. The entire trip took about forty minutes, during which Lyn and Joe stood at the back of the boat enjoying the rush of air, the blues of sea and sky, the skyline punctuated by church domes and towers, and the sea birds coming and going. Wonderful!

Once in the airport we could have been anywhere in the world. The immediacy and intimacy of Italy fading before our eyes - but not our memories! As we stood in line waiting to board the plane, two young ladies overhearing our (to them) amusing attempts at pronouncing some basic Czech salutations, helped us a bit. An hour and a half later we were landing in Prague! The Zenisek homeland! Joe could feel the resonance in his genes as stepped onto Czech 'soil'.

Lyn's brother, Mamer,  met us right as we entered the terminal from the plane - the privilege of being a diplomat! It was nice  to receive a warm welcome by a familiar face at this midpoint in our escape to the continent. We loaded our luggage into his car and he drove us to their flat in the city, maybe thirty minutes from the airport. Once there, Mamer had to go back to work at the embassy and we were left alone for a couple hours to catch up on sleep - a welcome nap.  As we would be in Prague for several days we felt we could afford the indulgence!  Shortly after we awoke, Merlines - Mamer's wife got home from work and shortly after, whisked us away for an introductory walk through the city. Little Matthew - their five year old son joined us as we walked from the residential neighborhood where their flat is located, through Namesti Miru square, then onto the National Museum, which houses some artwork by František Ženíšek - a relation of uncertain connection which we will have more to say about later, and continuing in a northwesterly direction, to the Old Town Square and across the Vlatave River on Charles Bridge - famous for the parade of statuary that runs along both sides of the bridge, 600 years of use for "processions, battles, and executions".  Along the route Serge sampled Czech sausage, little Mathew called out the numbers on all the trams (streetcars) that passed us, and Joe and Matthew had a continuous game of 'opposites' ("I say, YES!" - "I say NO!"). On first impression, Prague reminded us somewhat of Portland - lots of streetcars and busses sharing streets with cars and pedestrians on streets lined with shops on the ground floor and residential housing above. The architecture however was predominantly Romanesque. As we ventured closer to the Old Town Square, however, the city began to reveal more of its medieval roots. Many streets are narrow and open only to pedestrian traffic - a European feature we wish our fair city would emulate.

By the time we navigated through the crowds and art booths to return back across the bridge, it was time to take a tram back to the flat and have a delicious home cooked meal of prawns, spicy crab and rice (thank you Mamer and Merlines and good night!).

Picture yourself in a boat on a river…

7/27 Our second day in Venice began with breakfast in the courtyard garden, accompanied by a small flock of sparrows obviously acclimated to taking advantage of the setting. We were warned not to leave anything out on the table while foraging the breakfast buffet lest a sparrow land on your dish and sample the fare.

Hotel Flora's courtyard ... breakfast time!

                

hotel flora - front facade!

Our first stop after breakfast was the impressive Basilica San Marcos. After a short wait in a long line, we entered the twilight silence of the expansive interior. Every surface…EVERY SURFACE on the vaulted ceilings, archways and upper walls was covered with mosaics - a veritable primer of Christian belief, from Genesis and the Old Testament, through the life of Christ, the Acts of the Apostles and the lives and/or grisly deaths of saints and martyrs up to the (medieval) present day. The high mosaics included backgrounds of gold gilding that set off the figures in the minimally lit space. Besides the mosaics, statuary also adorned the spaces above, around and between the chapel altars that occupied the nave walls - biblical figures and saints juxtaposed with those of the rich patrons responsible for building the edifice - acquiring holiness by association? No photos allowed inside San Marcos (unfortunately!). 

As we made our way around the interior we were drawn to a side chapel where a mass was just beginning. We entered and joined the congregation. As the familiar ritual unfolded we voiced our responses in english at the appropriate times - adding an international flavor to the Italian in which the mass was being said. Participating in the mass, with rituals that date back nearly two thousand years, amidst all the artistic expressions of the faith, in the massive church which has heard thousands of such masses over its thousand year history, was both humbling and inspiring. And when, during the Expression of Peace, we turned to share a brief gesture of shared hope with the family behind us, Africans seemingly, and  they each took our hands in both of theirs and smiled widely, and then to those Italians and other tourists that occupied benches beside and in front of us, we truly felt the vision and appeal of a Universal Church. How blessed we felt to be here. We thought of our parents and especially Mom AVZ! - thank you!!! After mass and more craned-neck viewing of the ceiling mosaics, we worked our way over the equally richly decorated floor tiling of geometric patterns toward the exit and after a visit to the gift shop, back into the moist warmth of the piazza.

just one of the many cathedrals (chiesa) that is converted into a museum ...

a work of art by Oksana Mas - a mosaic of painted wooden eggs ..

a close up of the painted wooden eggs ...

The rest of the day was guided by three objectives, finding some desirably beautiful venetian glass jewelry, exploring as much of the island as possible, and riding a traditional gondola through the maze of canals. The first item was taken care of early as their were several shops off the piazza that offered the necessary selection - all that was left was to choose. The second goal was easily met as well as that was the order of the day - to wander. But first we used the second half of our round trip water bus tickets to return to the train terminal with the intent of meandering across the islands of Venice toward our hotel. The last objective was met in the early afternoon after a coffee stop in a little cafe off a tiny plaza that bordered a canal with a small bridge next to which were parked two gondolas. The gondoliers were drinking coffee at the cafe when we arrived. After checking the price and finding it significantly lower than the going rate at the more populous venues we had inquired, we told them we'd like a ride after finishing our coffees. No problem. 

The ride was the highlight of our day. Our gondolier and guide, Massimo, played his part perfectly, providing historical information on the island, the sites, the craft - interspersed with outbursts of singing. Several times we interrupted his monologue to quiz him about himself and other curiosities - which he seemed to enjoy. We discovered he was a fifth-generation gondolier in a second generation boat. He has twin daughters which he doesn't expect to follow him in the trade even though the first female gondolier was licensed the previous year. As he guided our boat through the canal canyons, under steeply arched bridges, out into the Grand Canal for a stretch before turning once again into an empty inner channel, chatting, singing, greeting the locals - all of which he seemed to know - we felt completely satisfied with our immersion into this historic custom. Grazie' Massimo! And keep the tip for your twins!

The Gondola Ride .......

ahh ... Venice ...

such a delight ...

serenity ...

joy ...

music ...

Thank you Massimo ... our gondolier! 

As we plied the old cobblestone we had discovered a chinese restaurant early in the day. A hunger for asian food made us determined to return to the restaurant come evening, so Joe led us on a circuitous route for several hours all over the island and ALMOST returned us to our destination, but like the moving staircases in some Harry Potter novel, the alleyways seemed transformed and required a grid search of the area passageways to rediscover the restaurant. It was nice to have some rice and fish for a change. We ended the meal with dessert - fried bananas had caught Lyn's eye, while Serge tried fried ice cream and Joe fried coconut, and out of shear curiosity we had to order "fried milk". Nothing was what we expected and yet we found enjoyment in all of it - a reflection of the joys of traveling.

We still had a long jaunt back to our hotel in the twilight, window shopping, enjoying the quiet sound of footfalls on stone, passing conversations, a distant church bell marking the hour, all without the background noise of traffic… very nice. Home to bed with one regret - we didn't have another day to spend here…

Goodbye Venizia and goodbye Italy for now - we will be back ... we can feel it in our souls ...

Ringing in the new...

7/26  We left our one-night-stand-hotel by taxi for the train station after breakfast. As this was our fourth venture by rail, we were beginning to understand the system. This train station consisted of about a dozen numbered platforms. A large reader board in the waiting area lists the arrival and departure of trains by train number and where they're from or going to - not unlike in an airport. The difference here is that they don't post the platform number until just before the train arrives - typically 10-15 minutes. AND the trains depart quite punctually - so you really need to be onboard by departure time. This leads to a sudden surge of people and baggage to the appropriate platform as soon as it is posted. This surge is then met by the counter surge of people exiting the train. But you not only need to get to the train, if you have reserve seats - as we have, you have to get to the proper car - which are also numbered. Amidst this chaos everyone seems to get where they're going - at least we did! Once on the train you stow luggage wherever you can find space in the racks provided - or in the overhead rack if your baggage is small enough. Find your seats, sit and relax - trains here are comfortable! Each has a pull down tray - or a small table if the seats are facing each other. Soon after departure attendants walk the aisles offering newspapers (none in English) and shortly after, a beverage service. We spent the three hour ride to Venice snoozing, reading, and looking over the guidebook for first impressions, background info, and tentative destinations to visit.

After disembarking the train, we proceeded to the ACTV Vaporetto water-bus, deciphered the postings and after purchasing tickets, boarded City center route 1 which runs along the Grand Canal that winds through the center of the city. There are no cars in Venice, not even bicycles - everything is accessed by boat or foot. This means you find the closest landing to your lodgings and then venture the rest of the way on foot.

The second stage of our introduction to Venice  began with the passage from the boat landing toward our hotel. Maybe four feet across, we navigated this narrow route, bags in tow, trying to politely avoid collisions with those proceeding toward the dock. Venice is a city that doesn't have to cater to vehicles, and while most walkways were much wider - some are even narrower! - giving the city a maze-like appeal where close passageways can open suddenly to piazzas large and small.

at last... Venice - the city of dreams...

what ... no cars ... awesome! 

Once checked in to our rooms in the Hotel Flora - a converted home complete with a small inner garden, it was time to check out again - the city that is. We spent the next six hours strolling - starting with the historic city center - Piazza San Marco, complete with: the intricately imposing byzantine Basilica San Marcos - named after the cities patron saint who is interred somewhere within; The Doges Palace - the official residence of the 'doges' who ruled venice for 1100 years; the Torre dell' Orologio - a clock tower that includes a clock face that shows the hour, zodiac sign and moon phase, framed by a display of the hour and minute to the nearest 5 interval, and crowned with bronze figures that move to strike a large bell to mark the hour; the Camnpanile - a nearly 100 meter bell tower; and the Procuratie Veche and Nouve, administrative buildings dating back to the 15th century. Everything a wealthy republic based on trading throughout the known world would need to impress visiting representative and perhaps itself. From the piazza packed, PACKED with tourists like ourselves, we strolled the waterfront enjoying the views of water front buildings, bridges over canals, imposing cathedrals across the water. The further we walked away from the piazza the smaller the crowds became until we were walking unhindered and at times unaccompanied along the 'calle' (street). Our wanderings included a stop in a church dedicated to St John the Baptist complete with a relic of his clavicle on display - just one of the many relics housed in Venice which include the girdle (belt) of Mary, a Nail from the True Cross, the skull of St. John, a thorn from Christ's crown, and many more - relics were big business in medieval times - one way to put your town and/or church on the pilgrimage map!  When hunger finally came on, we settled to eat at a convenient sidewalk cafe and enjoyed a typical three-course Italian meal including vegetables, pasta and main dish. Joe's 'scallopeni' (scallops he thought) turned out to be a pork dish - the reward of trying dishes in another language!

spectacular ...

joining the throng of spectators ...

ah... we are here in Venice - for real...

gazing upon the waters ...

this is not a scene in a movie ... I am really here ...

even the birds are friendly ... unbelievable!

Vivaldi was baptized here...St. John's the Baptist

Vivaldi - great composer!

St. John the Baptist Church - main altar!

It was twilight by the time we  decided to return to our hotel via the Piazza San Marco - which by this hour was mostly emptied of its earlier crowds. On a whim we went over to the Campanile to price a ride in the elevator to the top - no public stairway in this tower. The price was right - 6 euros, and more importantly, there were NO lines at this hour, so up we went. As we were enjoying the views of the city and skyline settling into dusk, the figures on the Torre dell' Orologio, now below us, struck the hour with their hammers. Suddenly, without warning, a HUGE bell that we hadn't noticed hanging just over our heads answered with several minutes of penetrating rings. Sweeping back and forth, the sound of the bell - almost a physical force by its sheer proximity, set body and soul into vibration. Serge and Joe moved to stand directly below the bell that swung overhead just out of reach - drawn to maximize the sound effect while not unaware of the potential disaster should the several hundred year old bell be somehow shaken loose from its obviously aged moorings. The bell contain continued to toll - not bothering to mark the nine o'clock hour, but just ringing on and on,  perhaps marking the departure of the throng for the day. When it finally stopped, and harmonics died away, we left the terrace of the tower and reboarding the lift, rode down, still vibrating with awe…

above the front door of the famous St. Mark's church ...

sphinx ... a symbol of St. Mark

the bell tolls ... time to heed to Hotel Flora ....

CrossIng Over to the Other Side…

7/25 As we were only able to book two days in the Degli Orafi, we transferred hotels this morning after breakfast to the Pierre. We thought that walking with our rolling luggage on the cobblestone streets might be problematic so we hired a taxi. When the cabbie  found out where we were going he laughed. We soon discovered why. Because of the maze of one-way streets the cab had to travel several times the distance AND time it would have taken us to simply walk. Another lesson learned about getting around this city.

We weren't long in our new room (goodbye suite!) before we hit the streets - only now it was time to cross the Arno river on the famous Ponte Vechio (the bridge covered with shops that even the Nazi's found too beautiful to bomb) to investigate what treasures might be awaiting on this less-travelled part of the city. But first we visited the many jewelry shops on the span looking for the perfect set of earrings, which we eventually found, but which then demanded a matching pendant - which the shop keeper was unable to produce despite visiting several of his neighbors. So we left with an an assurance that he would be able to produce a match and with an understanding that we would return before closing time to get it.

honestly, a post office that looks like this ... 

in one of the jewelry shops ... the background is the Arno River ...

In no time we were losing ourselves in among the streets, shops, piazzas, chapels, historic buildings and monuments on the south side of the river. One tiny square lined with olive trees caught our attention because there is almost no greenery in the old city center except for the flower boxes hanging below upper story windows and the occasional plants-in-pots gardened terrace. Our meanderings brought us past the Palazzo Pitti whose decorated gardens were only visible through a closed-Monday gate. As we moved  along a Via heading east, a relatively steep winding passage on the right attracted Serge's attention and the next thing we knew we were climbing our way out and above the city and off the tourist map- where we found private hillside estates, walled compounds, and the requisite chapel. At one point an innocuous plaque declared that the small, three story, house we were standing in front had been used by Galileo for star-gazing! The same Galileo who used these observations to prove that the earth orbited the sun and not the other way around as was the dogma of the day. We eventually turned around and began strolling back toward town. A brief afternoon sprinkle had us seeking refuge beneath an arch in a medieval wall projecting off the side of an old fort - Forte Belvedere.  Once it had stopped we chose a roadway back down the hill parallel to the wall. At the bottom we paused for refreshments at a small Ristorante that had additional seating in an arched underground chamber inside. Then it was decision time…back to town, or climbing again to try and find what had looked like an abbey that we had seen on a hilltop from the heights of our earlier walk. Exploration won out and so we turned our back on the city again and began climbing - first along roadways for a few hundred yards, but then on a wide stairway. We knew we were on the right path as the Stations of the Cross began to mark our progress up the hillside.

Palazzo Pitti ...

more scenes at Palazzo Pitti ...

a water fountain as big as a bath tub ...

Jackpot ... Galileo used this building as his observatory back in the days ....

artistic smoke stacks ...

walking in the boulevard of olive trees ...

ristorante in a 500 + year old establishments - just an ordinary sight in Italy ...

By the time we reached the fourteenth station, we were standing before a plain looking church, a Franciscan abbey. We entered to say our daily prayers and to discover what wonders it might hold. As in EVERY other such sanctuary, we were not disappointed. The church and accompanying abbey were dedicated to St Francis and had been operated by the Franciscans for several hundred years. The artwork included beautiful frescoes that at one time had been whitewashed over but since undergone partial restoration. One large dim-lit arched chamber off the right of the altar was covered in murals on all four walls and on each quarter section of the ceiling. Below the painted walls an arching band of beautiful deep blue tiles with gold stars ran the circumference of the room.  After taking time to look over the small, altered chapels that lined both sides of the church - each with its own unique artwork and/or statuary, we stepped back out into the blinding sunlight. Time to go back? Not yet! For this wasn't the large marbled church we had been able to see from the other hills. Looking, we found a wide path that continued to climb past the side of the church and in no time we were facing the larger and more ornate, Benedictine Abbey,  San Miniato al Monte. 

While the Franciscan church had been simple in its appearance and relatively speaking, also in its internal decor - in keeping with the values of the Franciscans (so we had read); this Benedictine church was designed - according to the wishes of its sponsors - to impress. As we entered the broad and high structure and paused to let our eyes adjust to the darkness within, we could hear distant chanting. We approached the empty altar seeking out the source of the monkish harmonies. There we found broad stone steps leading to a pillared and arched chamber below the altar where along a semi-circular back wall a dozen-or-so monks sat in wooden seats by candle light chanting their evening vespers. We sat in the twilight above the chamber for several minutes - baptized by the waves of sound rising from the cavern…

The 500 + year old church, done in the Romanesque style, held many unique architectural and artistic features. We took our time to look through each archway, passageway, nook, side chapel and stairway, followed constantly by the echoing voices of the monks, until we were satisfied with what we had captured in our memories and our camera…

It was time to head down the hill and back to town before the jeweler closed for the day. As we had lingered - determined to take advantage of where we were first before considering what might come next, we were running late. So Joe kicked into long stride/high gear - something that hadn't hardly been necessary (except for that five-minute train transfer!) - and walked ahead back to the jeweler, while Lyn and Serge strolled in vacation stride/low gear to rendezvous several minutes later back on the bridge. Success - the jeweler had found a pendant to match the earrings! Time to celebrate, replay parts of the day, and plan a bit for tomorrow over another long, relaxing dinner - still on the south side of the river. By the time dinner was over and we were crossing back over the Ponte Vechio, the almost-night sky was a deep and dark blue with just a narrow band of pink along the distant horizon. It was time to get back to our room, and get some sleep, for tomorrow we would leave this incredible jewel behind and board a train for another Italian jewel…Venice!

Benedictine Abbey,  San Miniato al Monte...

frescoes all over San Miniato ...

such an incredible intricate artistic details ...

gazing upon the beauty of human accomplishments ...

the view of Duomo from the inside of San Miniato ....

3 different level of altars ....

we felt the power of beauty ....

in meditation ...

Firenze ... worth visiting over and over again ...

what a beautiful day in Firenze ....