Florence

Having a day spare yesterday, we figured there was no better thing to do than jump on a train and head to Florence - and of course no trip to Florence would be complete without a visit to the area around Basilica di S. Lorenzo which is famous for the vast array of leather goods, mostly jackets and handbags. The various stall holders seem to know immediately that you are tourists, and that your language of preference is English, because they step out and greet you with some well chosen words that are aimed to entice you to their range of garments. If you don't see what you want on first glance, they are only too keen to usher you through the crowded street to their shop where the full range of product is available. The process seems to work because after an hour we walk away with Deb wearing a very stylish jacket to match the leather bags that she had bought in Padua and Venice.

The most notable landmark in Florence (with apologies to my namesake standing naked in another part of the city) is however the Duomo, which is the third largest church in Europe after St Peter's in Rome and St Paul's in London. The visual impact of the building is striking, and painted against the backdrop of another crystal clear blue sky, it's hard not to be impressed with all that you see.

There are a host of other churches and basilicas in Florence, and on this visit we chose to make our way to Basilica di Santa Croce, which among other things contains the tombs of Michaelangelo, Galileo and an honorary place for Dante, who for some strange reason isn't really buried here, but is so attached to the city that he gets pride of place in this very large church. On this occasion we also discovered that the scaffolding and sailcloth that have been so prevalent on the outside of so many Italian buildings, are now clearly visible inside as well, as the complete altar area is being restored.

As the day wore on we made our way to Ponte Vecchio to stare in wonder at the number of jewellery shops that line both sides of the bridge and all approach roads from every direction. Despite the fact that tourist season in Europe is well and truly over, there are still large numbers of people to be seen at this vantage point for this most beautiful city.

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Multiple Plots

What to do in Orvieto on our first Sunday in town? We had already determined the answer to that question the night before, so as soon as the outside air had warmed a little in the morning from the overnight cold, we set off on the three kilometre walk to the local cemetery. Getting there was an adventure in itself. First we had to find the escalator (who would imagine that a 1000-year old town on the top of a hill in Umbria would have an escalator?), and having found it, we travelled down through the solid rock until we emerged at the foot of the cliff face on the outside of the city wall with our destination in sight.

From there it was easy going, all downhill and on up the road to the cemetery entrance, where Deb stopped to ask Silvano (the friendly attendant) where the Jewish section was, knowing full-well that there was one, from previous research on a website called JewishItaly.com or some such thing. It’s fair to say that Silvano, however, didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but he did manage to connect with the word “Jewish” through her sketch of a Star of David on his writing pad. He immediately bundled us into his toy car and drove us at breakneck speed on a crazily zig-zagging narrow pathway to the top of the hill, where he proudly pointed at a very run-down little chapel, which may have been used for Jewish funeral services about 150 years ago, but the gates of which had clearly not been opened in a very very long time. The padlock was firmly in place  and we had to use all our limited language skills to convince Silvano that he didn’t need to jump back into his toy car and drive back down the hill to try and find the key.  What Deb really did want was for him to show us where the Jewish graves were, but despite wording the query every-which-way, we couldn’t make Silvano understand what it was we were asking.  Charades didn’t help.  Apparently the hand gesture for burial underground means something altogether different in Italy.

As we walked back down the hill through the cemetery, we couldn’t help but notice that all the burial plots (the first reference to the heading on this blog) were beautifully maintained and almost all adorned with fresh flowers. It was also interesting to note that a significant number of the plots (a further reference) were actually layered into the walls of the terraces, with only the end of the grave actually showing with the name of the deceased.  There were dozens of people tending to graves, washing them down, sweeping and carefully decorating them with fresh flowers - on a Sunday morning in Orvieto, apparently if you are not in church, the cemetery is the place to be.

Sunday evening was a plot of a different kind. We had seen billboards around the town advertising a performance of Trappola per Topi at Teatro Comunale Luigi Mancinelli , which translated means the world famous play “Mousetrap” by Agatha Christie was going to be performed at the Mancinelli Theatre. The theatre was built in 1844, and is very reminiscent of La Fenice in Venice, with a beautiful hand-painted ceiling and four levels of semi-circular seating looking onto a very large stage. Our seats were in the nose-bleed section on level four, and we shared the little compartment with four lovely ladies, and we all enjoyed the performance very much indeed. Did I mention yet that the performance was in Italian? It didn’t matter – we had done a little research before we got there about the plot and the characters, and we were able to piece it all together so that afterwards we could have a meaningful conversation about the performance of the various players. I have to confess that I also knew whodunit, thanks to Wikipedia. A great night out!

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The Zeppelin - A Play in Six Acts

Oh, what a time we've been having!  As I mentioned in the last post, we have a story to tell, but it has been happening in parts and we wanted the whole thing to be through before we began to record it.

Setting
On Wednesday morning we had been looking (as we do) for the next location for our morning coffee and pastry habit (elevenses, if you will) and passed the open doorway of Zeppelin restaurant which had been on our carefully researched list of places to try for dinner.  There was a large board outside with a photograph of a chef, advertising Cooking Classes with Lorenzo, so David asked if I wanted to call in and make a quick enquiry about those while we were in the area. 

Act One
I went in, but there didn't seem to be anyone around, so I wandered out towards the kitchen, calling out, "Ciao!  Bongiorno!  Hello!" as I walked.  Lorenzo came out of the kitchen with a broad grin, held out his hand to me and said, "Ciao!  You want a coffee?"  I said, "No, no, I'm here to ask about the cooking classes."  "No, no," says he. "First we drink coffee, then we talk."  I said that my husband was waiting outside.  His response was, "Forget husband! Come on!  Just kidding!  Get husband!  Coffee time!"

I should have sensed that this was going to set the scene for how things would progress from that point.  To sum up, David came into the restaurant, we drank coffee with this insane, fast-talking, ebullient, passionately Italian captain of good food and wine and his young American intern Luke, from Texas, and we signed up for the two of us to have dinner in the restaurant that evening, to attend the cooking class on Friday afternoon, a tour with them of Orvieto's farmer's market early Saturday morning and a wine tasting on Saturday at noon.  Those who know David know that he really does not cook - he doesn't mind cooking, but he doesn't cook.  It's not his thing.

Not MUCH it's not his thing!  More on this later.

Act Two
Dinner on Wednesday night was a delicious theatrical experience.  To detail a couple of the dishes we enjoyed: hat-shaped pasta stuffed with shoulder of wild boar, served with a burnt butter, toasted hazelnut and sage sauce and ravioloni with asparagus and cheese filling served with black truffle and almond sauce. 

Desserts we shared were apple and raisin crepe with warm vanilla sauce and chestnut mousse.  The food was very good indeed, but the theatre component was that dinner guests were invited into the kitchen to watch elements of the food preparation and the sounds of laughter, shouting, singing and hilarity emanating from that area assisted in creating a very convivial atmosphere out in the dining area when patrons returned to their meals and chatted across tables like old friends.  Good fun!

Act Three
Friday afternoon we arrived at 3:30pm at the restaurant for the scheduled class, already knowing we would have a continuation of the fun that had been started on Wednesday night.  We met the other students who would be in our class with us, four young women from the U.S. who are in Rome for 3 months as part of their college studies and who had organised a couple of days in Orvieto to attend this class.

During the next four hours we made savoury fried bread pockets stuffed with salami and cheese, focaccia with olives and capsicums, pizza with tomatoes and mozzarella, gnocchi with parsley and radishes (yes, radishes), sausage, eggplant, mixed vegetable sauce, stewed wild boar with olives and tomatoes, tiramisu and biscotti. 

We also talked about the origins and elements of Italian cooking, we learnt (better) knife skills, we came to a better understanding of how a commercial kitchen functions, we nibbled on dozens of different sample dishes, we drank a large amount of prosecco and we laughed a lot.

Lorenzo was loud, funny, informative and totally in control of us all, plus his team of six interns, as well as the constant stream of business-related visitors, old friends dropping in for a chat and constant phone calls.  He was like an orchestra conductor, managing it all with great good humour and charisma, and David was his sous chef, having an absolutely brilliant time and learning a lot, as we all were.  I may have to fight him for the whisk and spatula when we get home. 

Act Four
At about 7:30pm we sat down to eat the fruit of our labours - needless to say none of us had an appetite because we had been snacking, sampling and drinking all afternoon, but we all wanted to see it plated up and eat it sitting down!  By then we had formed a good relationship with the girls and at dinner we chatted as though we had known each other forever, exchanging Italian travel tales and tips and hearing their interesting stories.  One of Lorenzo's former students, a young Columbian guy, who had dropped in to say ciao, sat with us (sat with the girls, if the truth be known) and Luke, the Texan intern, served us and chatted about his time at Zeppelin.  It was a wonderful meal and although we didn't actually finish a whole plate of anything, we felt very proud of our work - it looked and tasted very professional. 

Act Five
Saturday morning we all met again at Zeppelin before 8:00am to go to the open-air food market with Lorenzo, his young staff, the American girls, Lorenzo's girlfriend who had arrived from Boston, Lucky Phil (the Columbian) and a couple of other hangers-on.  We walked around the various stalls, where Lorenzo is clearly well-known, sampling the wares and buying food for the restaurant.  Trial samples as we walked around included roast stuffed suckling pig, olives, pecorino, hard Umbrian crackers, dried chestnuts, green leafy vegetables of unknown origin, buffalo mozzarella, chocolates, rice pudding tarts, very alcoholic peach-shaped doughnuts filled with custard and shots of a cinnamon-flavoured spirit.

We then dragged ourselves home for a rest... seriously!  We knew that we had to be back at the restaurant for the wine tasting at midday.

Act Six
The wine tasting was interesting in that it was conducted by a knowledgeable sommelier and we tried four local Orvietana wines - two whites and two reds.  Needless to say, there were accompanying plates of salumi, proscuitto, a selection of cheeses, breads and roasted artichoke dip.  We were joined for the tasting by three other people who are in Orvieto for a conference on... (wait for it)... torture recovery therapy.  I kid you not.  They are part of a group of 55 people from all over the world who are here to chat amongst themselves about their work with victims of imprisonment, abandonment and other shocking circumstances. 

After the wines and food had been consumed, Lorenzo presented us with our certificates, Zeppelin aprons, bags of biscotti and recipe booklets while we and the girls hugged each other, exchanged email addresses and promised to meet up in Rome in three weeks.

So, that's some of what we've been doing.  It has been absolutely brilliant fun.

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Orvieto

As an introduction to Orvieto, I offer the above gratuitous night shots taken on our first evening here, after a little drizzling rain was sent down from above to cleanse the village on the occasion of our arrival. How pretty, eh?  Since Monday night we have had beautiful blue skies with not even a hint of a breeze to spoil the serenity.  Aah, the serenity!  Orvieto is a peaceful little town, by night and by day and we are already having a wonderful time, just relaxing into life here.

On Tuesday we climbed the Torre del Moro  (a medieval bell tower) which was worth the trip up, for the fabulous view of the town and surrounding areas, with farmlands, vineyards, forest-covered hills and even a castle or two laid out like the cliched (can't find the accent, sorry) patchwork quilt that defines Umbria.  

We then walked along the main street towards the Orvieto Duomo (Cathedral), the foundation stone of which was laid in 1290. It is a stunning piece of architecture to come upon as you wander down the small laneway towards it and against the colour of the sky behind it, the photo opportunity was too good to pass up.

Internally, the Cathedral was just as beautiful as externally (the presence of a number of vigilant foto police means you will have to take my word for that) but the facade (again, sorry, no cedilla) made up of millions of gold, blue and red mosaic tiles, each one as tiny as baby fingernails, is absolutely stunning.

Yesterday, we walked around the outskirts of the city walls to take in further wonderful photo opportunities.  :-)

Have I mentioned that I love Italian men?  If I haven't, then now you know.  Here are a few that I loved yesterday.  David didn't mind taking some photos of them for me to add to my pin-up wall, which was generous, no?

Notice that in the background of the second of those shots is a poster for a production of "Trappola per Topi", the very famous Agatha Christie play that we know as "Mousetrap".  We have tickets to see that on Sunday evening in the local theatre and yes, of course it is in Italian, so we will have to do a little homework before Sunday so that we know the storyline and will recognise the characters. When we went to the box office to purchase the tickets, the young lady was kind enough to allow us inside the theatre to see where we would be sitting. It does bear some architectural similarity to La Fenice in Venice, which we've already written about.

I do have another story to tell you, but I will save it for Saturday afternoon, because it is a continuing one and the final chapters of it have not yet taken place.  More on that, later.

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Rocky (the internet connection, not the boxer).

The internet connection here in Orvieto is indeed unstable, but we have set up the little computer in just the right spot to allow us a signal that's just OK.  This is only a post to say we arrived yesterday afternoon and that as far as we can see, Orvieto is a dear little medieval village.  There is a restriction on vehicular access, so that cars are parked outside the centre of town, making it very easy to walk around without having to worry about being run down, but also means that the village is a tranquil place to be.  Tiny shops line the main street and they all seem to sell quality products - artisan crafted leathergoods, beautiful clothes and shoes, gloves and hats, ceramics and so on.  There is an absence of touristy junk as Orvieto is a little bit off the main tourist trail, so that's a plus, too.

Our apartment is very spacious, with a large lounge room, separate kitchen, laundry, bathroom and huge bedroom (queen-sized bed plus day bed) opening out to our own sun-terrace.  Photos of the apartment below.  Going shopping now, but will blog again soon.

John Denver and Other Musicians

Older readers may remember the John Denver hit, "Some Days Are Diamonds", the lyrics of which go on to say, "... some days are stone".  He was responding to a query about how he was feeling since his true love and he had parted company.  I guess you are wondering where this is headed.  Bear with me.

The lyrics to Denver's classic have famously been misheard as, "Some days are diamonds, some days are pearls..." being similar sentiment to the publicity line for Tourism Queensland (Beautiful one day, perfect the next).  In reflecting on our time in Padua, I prefer to quote the mondegreen (the line about the pearls).  It has been absolutely wonderful; perhaps some days even more wonderful than others.

See, I told you I would get there.

Tomorrow morning, clutching our pre-purchased train ticket, we will make our way to the stazione and board the train for our next destination, Orvieto, in the region of Italy called Umbria.  This region is known locally as "the green heart of Italy"; it is the only land-locked region and is famous for its emerald sloped mountains, rolling green hills, forests, tumbling rivers and lush farming land.  It will be quite different from the Veneto region, of which Padua is a main city. 

We will bid farewell tomorrow to the superb Giotto frescoes of the Scrovegni Chapel, the magnificent Basilica of St Anthony, the tranquil botanical gardens, the fresh food markets, the huge expanse of public space known as the Prato, the beautiful duomo, the coffee shops, the pastries, the wonderful sunlit piazzas and the stunning arched walkways.

We will also say goodbye (though not personally) to the tuxedo-dressed grand piano player, the old guy with the trumpet who plays "My Way" and "Hava Nagila" in a continuous loop, the chap with the piano-accordion who works his way around town, the 3-piece band of cellist, violinist and double-bassist and the fellow with the worn-out three-stringed guitar who plays and sings all day with his eyes closed. 

We will say one last firm, "No, grazie!" to the Senegalese guys selling handbags, cigarette lighters, packets of tissues, umbrellas, and watches and pass by the balloon man, the fire-juggler and the Charlie Chaplin statue impersonator, and we will walk right through the massive end-of-Autumn fare taking place today in the Prato towards today's other highlight, the Chestnut Carnival (hot roasted chestnuts and mulled wine included).  We will sit there with a glass of something and a plate of something, reflecting on all the things we will miss, then we will head back to the apartment to pack our bags in readiness for our early-morning departure.

I don't know how stable the internet connection will be, in Orvieto, so there may be a delay before you hear from us again (or not...).

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Venice (again).

If Padua wasn't wonderful enough in its own right (which of course it is), it would still have the wonderful advantage of being close to Venice, to recommend it to the traveller. 

I was reading on the internet a couple of nights ago, about an opera house in Venice ironically named Teatro La Fenice (Phoenix Theatre) which has been burnt down and rebuilt twice since its original construction in the late 1700s.  Although we have been to Venice a few times, the fact that it is only a 30 minute train ride from here means that it is not a big decision to say, "Let's go again.  We haven't seen that, yet!"  So, by 11:00 this morning we had already checked the weather forecast, had breakfast at home, walked to our railway station, caught a train to Venice, wandered across the Rialto bridge, bought a leather handbag, enjoyed hot chocolate and pastries for morning tea, and we were standing in front of Teatro La Fenice.

From the outside, the opera house is not particularly impressive, on the Italian "architectural amazingness" scale, but cross its threshold into the foyer and begin to be stunned.  The massive marble columns, marble floor and walls shine in the reflection of the many humungous chandeliers ... and that's just the beginning.  The theatre interior is superbly opulent, with inlaid wooden floors, red velvet seating, frescoed ceilings and gilded mouldings.

This second image is taken from an internet site, using much better camera equipment than ours - the photo has been taken from the stage, looking out to the audience.

The most recent rebuilding of La Fenice was only a few years ago (after being burnt to the ground by arsonists in 1996) so the luxuriousness of the place has not yet been tainted by the usual tourist legacy of worn carpet, scraped paintwork, stains and fingermarks.  In fact the whole building interior is blissfully fresh and clean, which seems almost out-of-place in Venice.  We were able to sit in the royal box and look at the stage from the same vantage point as important visitors, but even sitting in the downstairs seating area and looking about is a magnificent experience, despite there not being a performance on, this morning. 

There are several other spaces within the opera house building which are used for piano recitals and other types of performances.  This is one of those areas.

Following our visit to La Fenice we went up the Campanile di San Marco (bell-tower of St Mark's Basilica) which is probably the only "touristy" thing we hadn't yet done. The trip up is via a lift, which is a good thing, as the tower is around 100 metres in height.  The 360 degree view of Venice and surrounds from that vantage point is obviously breathtaking - this link gives one panoramic photograph but here are a couple of David's shots as well.  Although today was a bit grey, it was still well-worth seeing.

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