Pisa: As Requested

We're going a bit out of order here but there was a special request for Pisa so here we go!

When my parents and little sister came to visit us (and...a lot of Europe), we ended up flying from Paris to Pisa and taking the train from there to our hotel in Florence.  Sure, we could have just flown direct to Florence, but 1) this was cheaper and 2) PISA!

So, it was a quick taxi ride from the airport to the Field of Miracles, where leans the famous tower - and a lot of other cool things that I had no idea existed.

First thing I need to say, though, is that the leaning tower of Pisa was just mind-blowing.  I fully expected to be a little underwhelmed, seeing as everyone knows about it and has seen pictures.  But really, to walk through the gates into the Campo and actually see it practically falling over...  And it's so tall!   And there are people on it!  And it's so...lovely!  10 out of 10, leaning tower of Pisa.

One thing I didn't know before we went was that the tower is actually the bell tower next to the cathedral next to the baptistery next to the walled and roofed cemetery (filled with dirt brought all the way from Jerusalem which, if you were buried in it, reduced you to a skeleton in one day! As the advertising went.).  And all are done in the same, unique architectural style: Pisan Romanesque.

We have the circular baptistery, cathedral, and (bell) tower.
(And the tiiiiny sliver of what looks like a wall to the left is the cemetery.)

Gonna be honest, we spent about forty-five minutes here, max.  So we aren't super experts or anything.  But, it was definitely a trip highlight even then.

Afterwards, we walked to the train station.  I think some of our tour group (aka my family) didn't particularly appreciate the fact that what was touted as a 25 minute walk (with our backpacks) was actually more like 40 minutes. But we made it and it was an experience, dag nabbit!

Tally and Mom Schlepping Their Packs Through Tuscany

It was a really fun, winding walk through the back streets and markets of a Tuscan town - and a great introduction to Italy for my family.  All those narrow streets and wooden shutters were such a contrast to the grand, wide boulevards of post-Hausmann Paris we'd been through just that morning.

And so ends my mini-review of our mini-stop in Pisa, Italy.


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I'm counting down the days until my third anniversary of living in Europe by recapping trips that I never got around to highlighting.  You can see the list of trips (and links to them as they are written) here.

Ciao, Italia!

It's been nine months since we went to Italy.  NINE months.  And yet, I still want to spend time talking about it and posting pictures to remember everything.  Because, you know, this blog is one of the ways we remember our good times - an interactive photo album of sorts.

But I realize, nine months on, that I really do need to move on to other news and other trips.  Since we took this picture, we've traveled through Bavaria, gone to Athens, attended a sister's wedding in the U.S., and toured across Saxony.  And, in two weeks, we'll have the pièce de résistance, our trip to Paris.

So, I suppose it's time to say goodbye to Italy, though I never really got to tell or show you much about my favorite city (for overall feeling), Venice.  And I never got to really write about the hilarious passive-aggressive hotel notes we encountered ("Where are you from?  RUDELAND??")--actually maybe that's just aggressive-aggressive.  Or recount the time we sat in the Frari Basilica, away from the tourist glut near San Marco's gondola stands, and take in Titian's Assumption of the Virgin, not in a museum, but as the altarpiece it was always intended to be.

Or tell you about the tiny, little pizza shop off the Campo Santa Maria Formosa that we went to for lunch every day we were there.  No chairs, standing-room only.  We ordered pizza by weight -- "un etto!" -- and it was where I tried my first egg and asparagus.  

Or, maybe talk about finding a mask and costume shop one night when we were lost (that's what you do in Venice, you get lost.  It's the number one activity.), filled with silks and velvets and porcelain masks -- and we could never find it again.

Or about that last night we had in Italy, where we bought our final gelatto, and walked along the promenade, across the bridge of sighs, watching the gondolas and traghettos and vaporettos go by, as the sun set over the beautiful, old city.

But, it's time to say goodbye to Italy now.  Just for now.

...

And hey, at least we got this mask!

The Italy Series: Arriving in Venice

We took the train from Ravenna to Venice.  Before our trip, I didn't realize that Venice is an island within a bay and surrounded by smaller neighborhood islands (Venice suburbs).  Surprise! 

We rode over the only bridge linking the island with the Italian mainland and walked out to see that (no, seriously) the roads are all canals.  Or, more simply, there are no roads.  None.  I thought there might be one or two maybe.  With carriages or something touristy.  Nope.  I knew that there were canals in Venice.  I wasn't prepared for how surreal it was to see absolutely no land-based motorized vehicles. 

We found the Venetian version of the bus station (Vaporretto boats) and hopped on the line that ran through the grand canal to St. Mark's Square.  We passed churches and old warehouses and mansions and bridges.  There were construction boats and fire boats and police boats and taxi boats on the way.  And, of course, the gondolas.

Did you know that gondolas are very oddly shaped?  I thought they were just black canoes with pointy curved ends.  But, really, they look crooked.   The ends lean away from center and they all look riiiiight on the verge of capsizing.  I'd never seen anything like it.

From St. Mark's Square we had to follow directions to find our hotel.  Street names (or rather, path names) in Venice are more like suggestions that change every twenty feet and not every alleyway has one.  Our directions went something like this:  

1.  Find St. Mark's Square, since that is something that is easy to find.

2.  On the north facing wall of the Doges' palace, to the right, there are two roads (they meant alleys).  Take the second, darkest, scariest-looking one.

3.  Turn left at the place where the road widens.

4. Cross the crooked bridge over the third canal.

5.  Follow the sound of the accordion player until the song ends.

6.  Turn right and take 147 steps while whistling "O Sole Mio"--this is very important.

7.  Find the man in a black cape and bird mask.  He will lead you to the door that only opens for the pure in heart.  

8.  Clap twice.  And wait five minutes.  We will come and meet you on the third stone stair.   

We actually found it.

The Italy Series: Ravenna

No one goes to Ravenna.  Unless you're on a bus tour or something and it's part of some larger package deal.

And you're like "It says we're going to...Ravenna?  Whatever.  Let's just eat some pasta and wander around until we can get back on the super fun bus again."

But here's the thing.  Ravenna is this secret cool place that people don't fully appreciate for what it is.

If you're a weird Byzantine history nerd...like...maybe we are...you know, however, that Ravenna was essentially the last capital of the Roman Empire, and the first western capital of the Byzantine Empire.

So, it's full of all sorts of interesting and beautiful things!

(Like mosaics!  Mosaaaaicsssss!)

(Besides, we got a room with this 17th century marble tub in the bathroom.  Win!)

The Italy Series: Florence and Art

Why does anyone go to Florence?  Other than the bruschetta and ribollita, that is.

It's the art!  I might even go so far as to say that Florence maaaaay be the greatest art city in the world.  And, it's also the place that made me art-cry again.  ("It's....just...so...beautiful!")

We already covered the importance of the Duomo to the Renaissance, but Florence also has the unsurpassed Uffizi Gallery, Academia, and Bargello.  Not to mention all the statues under the Loggia in the main square.

Loggia, with Perseus and (decapitated) Medusa

It's hard to say which gallery I loved the most.

Primavera, Botticelli

The Uffizi had The Birth of Venus and Primavera by Botticelli (they were so much larger than I expected them to be).  It also had Da Vinci, and Michelangelo's Holy Family, and Rafael, and Cranach, and Giotto, and Cimabue, and Martini, and Fra Angelico, and Tintoretto, and Rubens, and and and and and.  It was like watching a show called Painting All-Stars.

The Annunciation, Da Vinci

The Bargello had Donatello's original David (we saw all the big David versions on this trip) and St. George.  It had the original and restored bronze panels from the Baptistery, including the losing panels from Brunelleschi for comparison.  It had a whole bunch of statues.

St. George, Paul, Gelatto

Bargello Gallery

But, the Academia...the Academia made me cry.  Which I didn't expect at all.  Mostly because the Academia is famous for one thing: Michaelangelo's David.  I didn't expect it to be so overwhelming because we'd seen the replica David out on the main square already (see photo above) and it's probably the most recognizable statue in the world.  No surprises.

But, well, descriptions will never be enough, but you turn a corner and you see down a long, high-ceiling gallery lined with Michaelangelo's unfinished Slaves, each one looking like a man struggling to escape his marble block.  And at the very end, a single domed room where David stands 17 feet tall in the center.

Both of us gasped, and not even a little bit ironically.  We couldn't help ourselves. The replicas...I can't explain it...they aren't like the real thing.  There's something special about it, something different.  The eyes or something.

We stared at that statue--at that single statue--for a really long time.

And want to know when I cried?  I cried when we were leaving, because I knew that no memory or postcard or replica would ever be anything close to the same.

The Italy Series: Il Duomo

The famous dome of the Cathedral of Florence was a big deal for us.  The first dome constructed since the Romans, it's also sort of a big deal for a lot of other people.  

But, the dome isn't the only historically awesome thing about Florence's Cathedral.

We also saw the baptistery doors--the relief sculptures done by Ghiberti (he won in a competition with Brunelleschi, which is good because Brunelleschi then had his free time to construct the dome).  Anyway, these beautiful bronze panels (1421) and the dome (1436) are pretty much the symbols of the birth of the Renaissance and we were pretty darn excited to be there seeing them in person.

Then, of course, there's the campanile (bell tower) by Giotto, who was one of the proto-Renaissance painters of Florence who got some things going in art like individualized faces, emotion, and perspective.  (Here's a link to his most famous painting--Madonna Enthroned--which we saw in the Uffizi Gallery.  It was huge.)

A final shot of the Cathedral with its three famous components--the octagonal baptistery at left, the dome in the middle, and the campanile to the right.

Gorgeous Duomo.

The Italy Series: Sienna Siena

We took a train from Rome, through three hours of hill-town scenery, to the Tuscan town of Siena.  

It was immediately clear why that one (oft-neglected) crayon was named so weird.

As to why the crayon name added an extra "n"? 

Not a clue.

But, tell you what, if I had another crayon box today, sienna would be getting a lot more play.

The Italy Series: Ciao Roma!

The night before we took this picture, we ate fried flowers and pizza at a little, old, fantastic (regardless of its strange name) osteria called EST! EST! EST!*

There's not much more to that story, just that it happened.  And I had to make sure I wrote it down somewhere.  Well, and I guess it's part of this post since it was our last real meal in Rome.

Our real Roman finale (not cuisine-related) was to visit the Borghese Gallery, here.  Think of it like a personalized art Mecca for me.  It houses some of the most beautiful and important western sculpture, starring Bernini.

We weren't allowed to take anything (no purse, no camera, no nothin') into the galleries, but I was fine with that.  The only downer is that I have nothing to show you from inside--but even if I did, I'm not sure if I'd post it because it wouldn't do anything justice.

Apollo and Daphne?  Pluto Abducting Proserpina?  David?

I mean, how can you do justice to hundreds of so-thin-they-are-transparent, carved marble laurel leaves?  Or the look on David's face, mid-sling?  Or how stone fingers can sink into stone flesh?  Or the most complete devastation I've ever read on any face, alive or in stone?

I don't know, except to see it in front of you.

I've only ever gotten weepy in front of art twice in my life.  Both times on this Italy trip.  And this was the first.

It was all a perfect send-off and culmination of our planned tour through history--beginning in Ancient Rome, then through the Renaissance, and finally landing at the height of Bernini's baroque art.

One more walk through the Borghese gardens, and then we set off for the train station.

*I'm pretty sure this (actually, very cool, historic, classy) restaurant's name translated to EAT! EAT! EAT!   

The Italy Series: Squares, Forts, Temples, and Churches

Some of my best memories of vacations are always the days where we end up wandering.  Our second afternoon in Rome was just that--across bridges, through squares, into the Pantheon, around the city.  Eating a hunk of smoked mozzarella and finding the Roman flower market.

The Italy Series: St. Peter's Basilica

After four miles of world-class art and thirty minutes in the Sistine Chapel...one can feel rather, well, overwhelmed.  We had no chance to just decompress because, before we knew it, we were walking through the giant entryway of St. Peter's Basilica.

As a traveler's tip: most of the time, you have to walk all the way back through the Vatican Museum, around the outside of Vatican City, and then through a security and dress-code check to get back to St. Peter's.  However, if you're sneaky, there's a small door at the back right of the Sistine Chapel with a sign that says "For Tour Groups Only."  If you want to save your blistered feet a two+ mile walk, just hang around for a big tour group and simply tag along with them through the door for a direct link to St. Peters.

I don't feel bad about doing this at all.  First, because I had a blister the size of an acorn on my pinkie toe and second, Rick Steves told me to do it.  And, we all know that Rick Steves is omnipotent, omniscient, and the bringer of all good travel-things (hail Rick, hail).

"Tu es Petrus"

 

We saw the sights--rubbing St. Peter's toe and wondering in awe at
Bernini's Baldachin and stained glass window 
(the only stained glass in the Basilica)

St. Peter's is so, so incredibly huge.  It's a strange experience because, even though you know how huge it is  , it doesn't give you that initial impression.  You see the markers on the floor, noting where St. Paul's or Hagia Sophia are so much shorter, or you read that all the statues are 20+ feet tall...but still, it's all a play on the eyes.

But, really, just to give you an idea....  That bronze Bernini Baldachin?  That canopy-like thing over the high alter just above here?  

It's SEVEN STORIES TALL!  That unimposing alter canopy!

Do you see this?!

Yeah, so...

St. Peter's.

Go see it.  But maybe go see it first or on a different day than the Vatican Museum because it might not hit you as hard as it should if your mind has already been blown by Rafael and Michelangelo.

Plus, you'd get to see these guys sooner:

Signing off from Vatican City (three months ago),

H & P