And in the end

24 September

Full moon means high tide. And high tide in Venice means a rather wet San Marco.

Our last morning in Venice, and some last minute shopping had to be done. I had been carefully remembering where the shops were that I wanted to get the stuff I was still looking for. Venice got the better of me. In a desperate attempt to find what I was looking for, I ended up on San Marco square. And even worst - on the canal side of the square. Which meant I had to cross it. Except that, in places, the water was ankle deep.

We had been wondering about what we thought were tables stacked around the square. I learnt what the answer was the hard way. Walkways to enable the crowds to cross a flooded square. Except that the ratio of tourist feet to number of walkways just somehow wasn't calculated correctly. But we are pleased that we experienced this.

And finally, weird as it may sound, we left for the airport - by boat. And in order to make the hours that lie ahead a little more tolerable, we tried to classify things a bit. And so, reflecting on our three weeks of amazing experiences, we tried to draw up some Best Of and Worst Of lists:

Most Frustrating:

• Getting into Verona
• Getting out of Bassano del Grappa

Autostops (petrol stations) on the Autostrada's have shops that sell detailed maps of the areas. It's a good idea to ensure you have a good detailed map before you get there.

Most Confusing:

• Traffic signs, especially at traffic circles.

A more detailed map or GPS would probably have helped with this too, but as confusing and frustrating as it could get, it was often quite fun to try and figure it all out.

Biggest Mystery:

• San Marco's Lion - In Venice, you often see four versions of this lion, with varying configurations of teeth, from fangs to human-like teeth, to no teeth at all. Why??

Funniest Experience:

• Watching the old man in Burano pacing up and down the 'main street' the entire afternoon.

If you miss watching the real people in Italy, you don't see Italy. You could easily get engrossed in art and history, and enirely forget about realities of everyday life.

Worst Experience:

• Airports - in Venice we stood in the check-in queue for two hours. 
• Crowds in Venice - it just gets crazy - we found going to a smaller island like Burano was a lot more relaxing during the day time.

Accommodation - Best Location:

• Rome - Hotel Mentecitorio was 5 minutes walk from the Trevi Fountain as well as the Spanish Steps and the good designer shopping streets.
• Venice - Ca'Zora was also about 5 minutes from both San Marco and Rialto. That's if you manage to follow the correct route.

Accommodation - Best Views

• Lake Maggiore - La Sorgente had a really good view over the lake and two of its most beatiful islands
• Pezzo (Ponte di Legno) - Yuri B&B had the most exquisite view over the valley nestled between the huge mountains.
• Verona - Agriturismo San Mattia has beautiful views over the old city centre of Verona.  
• Corniglia - Camere Orietta has stunning sea views from the little terrace on the roof.

Most of the others also had good views in some form.

Accommodation - Best host

• Yuri ( Yuri B&B) was by far the most friendly, helpful and jovial of them all!
• Francesca (http://www.lasorgente.biz/) was equally friendly and extremely helpful.

Best meal:

• La Cantinetta, Barolo - we had the tasting menu, allowing us to sample every starter. It was undescribably exquisite
• Marina Piccola, Manarola - Niel had the best fish here
• La Sorgente had the best breakfast by far, with homemade bread and fruit pastries.
• Hotel Wildner's Restaurant, Venice - Even though it felt a bit like cheating, Niel had the best steak with exquisite pepper sauce here.

Where could we have spent more time?

• Verona - it's a beautiful city. One day was just not enough.
• Piemonte - the region with the best wine and most beautiful little towns and beautiful landscapes.

Where could we have spent less time?

• Merano - the landscapes were beautiful, but the fact that this area is largely German, just did not fit with an Italian trip.

Most Exciting Experience

• Monte Bianco - taking the cable car up to the top, standing on fresh snow, surrounded by mountains and glaciers was just awesome
• Passo delle Stelvio & Passo Gavia - the most awesome driving experience you could possibly have.

Best Experience:

• Italy.

Che piu cercando io vo

23 September

If there is one place where you see the real Italy, it will be at the market. And the Rialto market in Venice is no exception. Largely a fish, fruit and vegetable market,Rialto market can provide for hours of entertainment. It’s quite remarkable how easily people can set up such beautiful displays of fish and fresh produce every day.

We strolled around this market for quite some time, looking at how Italians do things the same, and how they do things differently. At a butcher on the fringe of the market, we saw chickens displayed in the window. They seem to leave the head on! Similarly, with the hares. Yes – there was Bugs Bunny lying in the window, skinned, but entirely intact. At the many fish counters, squid seemed to be the main attraction. Some fish were skinned, except for the heads. Some crabs were on their backs, with the legs still desperately registering protest against the sea of ice they now find themselves on. At one stall I watch a little shrimp jumping around on a bigger fish. He somehow managed to catapult himself out of his species’ container, and like a little brat, proceeded to jump around all over the place. I could almost hear his bantering in his Eddie Murphy voice. I’m very relieved that I never saw Nemo.

Fruit and vegetables were equally entertaining. Apart from the exquisite displays, we found the foreign ones quite fascinating. I found Ovoli mushrooms particularly interesting. And Niel tried some of the fruit. The known ones, like the pears, were very good. Others were less tasty.  We still don’t quite know what “Tabarchine Italia” are.

Watching the people ended up being an even bigger treat. Of course the tourists were there in their abundance. But so were the locals. Chefs buying food for tonight’s supper. And, as always, some old folk who clearly has Rialto market as part of their routine, even once they get to the stage of needing assistance to do so.

From the market we basically took it as it came. Strolling around Venice, mostly trying to avoid the majority of tourists, but not always succeeding in that. You could definitely keep yourself entertained for a good many days, simply by visiting churches, museums and art galleries. And palaces. We picked the Palazzo Ducale, the official residence of each Venetian ruler, originally founded in the 9^th century. It is in this palace that you can find Jacopo and Domenica Tintoretto’s Paradise, one of the largest paintings in the world.  The painting is in the Sala del Maggior Consiglio, a large chamber where the Great Council used to meet or hold their banquets. I can well imagine the parties that could happen in this vast hall.

From the palace, you cross the Bridge of Sighs to the prisons, where Casanova was once imprisoned. He managed to make a rather daring escape through a hole in the roof, though.

 And for our last evening in Italy, we chose culture. ‘I Musici Veneziani’ does a Baroque and Opera show in the Scuola Grande di San Teodore, which was founded in 1218. It was great to listen to the small 10-piece orchestra, along with the two tenors and the soprano, all dressed in 18^th century costumes. Like a typical Venetian Soirée. This, followed by a supper at a restaurant on the Grand Canal, was a close to perfect ending to a long anticipated, and such an enjoyable trip.

Che piu cercando io vo?

So, so you think you can tell

It would take you a very long time to explore all the streets of Venice. And then there are still the islands.Most people visit Murano for the glass factories. Less people bother to visit the smaller island, Burano.

We took the waterbus to Burano. This is the island where you will find the famous lacework. And a great deal more. Brightly painted houses line the small canals. And when I mean brightly painted, I really mean just that. The story goes that the fishermen of Burano had trouble finding their houses after their regular visits to the bar. So they simply ended up painting the houses different colours so the lads could find their way home with less effort. Life must be really good on this island. We saw some very old people.

Of course the tourism business is quite lucrative for this little community, with lots of little shops selling the beautiful lacework.One shopkeeper insisted that I understood that some of the work may be done by machine, but it still gets done in Burano, and not in China. I did watch an old lady actually doing the lacework. It's just phenomenal to watch someone doing such fine work by hand.

It goes without saying that in a fishing community, one would probably find a good restaurant for seafood, and it ended up being a most relaxing afternoon, sitting under the umbrellas, watching the tourists go by. But it was even more fun watching the village's old folk go by. It was not long before we spotted an old man walking very deliberately, determined eyes fixed on the ground ahead of him, hands in the pocket, cigarette clenched between his wrinkled lips. Great photo moment missed. Except not. For the entire afternoon, this old man proceeded to very deliberately walk up and down the main shopping street of the village.Never allowing anyone or anything to distract him, or set him off course. Simply walking, like he was busy marking his territory.

It was difficult to leave the peaceful entertainment of Burano, and after such a relaxing day, it would only be right to end it off at San Marco, listening to some music. I was astonished that a small ensemble consisting of piano, flute, clarinet, accordion, double bass and violin, could play the entire first movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.

Last night we stopped to help a couple wondering aimlessly with suitcases in tow. You see this often. The guy, desparately trying to look like he has everything under control. It's just around the next corner, dear. With the woman looking tired, irritated and on the verge of exploding with accusations. Tonight, we saw a poor guy with his entire family. It's just so wrong to not want to help. The poor guys.

You do eventually get the hang of Venice. But you need time.

I see you shiver with antici.....pation

21 September

Everyone that gets to go to Venice, does so with great anticipation.

Leaving Mason Vicentino, we took the shortest route to the autostrada that did not involve Bassano del Grappa. And the drive to Venice was a quick one, with the only noteworthy thing being the vast amount of trucks you find along the way. Clearly a very lucrative business.

We were really sad to say goodbye to Picasso, the car that had been our home for the last 18 days. It was so very patient, taking us from the narrowest lanes to the highest passes to the most beautiful lakes. But there was also some form of relief, not having to be careful of entering where we should not, or navigate the narrow lanes that constitute Italy.

Getting to Venice was simple enough, but when you step off the water bus at Rialto bridge, as instructed by your guest house owner, you very quickly realise that Venice is the city of anticipation, confusion and map-consulting people. The city is packed to the rim with tourists. And they are all lost, fighting with each other over who knows best to get even more lost. And wherever you look, you see the look of absolute anticipation and total confusion on people’s faces. I should be having fun! I think this must be the right waterbus!  But am I going in the right direction? Do I look fashionable enough? Will they understand what I’m saying? It’s hilarious.

Needless to say – it took us a while to find our accommodation, but Niel, adamant to show me Venice, persisted. This, as always, often leaves me standing on some street corner with the luggage, something I’ve become quite accustomed to. I’ve learnt that if you stare down passersby, they seem too embarrassed to even consider forming an opinion about the fact that you look like an idiot with baggage on a street corner.

I would probably have to confess that my first impression of Venice was not positive. I don’t really do crowds well, so walking through narrow lanes, bumping into GGG’s (Gelato Gulping Germans), looking at one shop after another selling rather hideous glass objects (I was warned about this), just did not feel like the kind of place I could enjoy. So we did the one thing that would change that impression. Head for the water.

Taking the No. 2 line on the waterbus meant that we just about went around the entire island, passing San Marco, Rialto, and many other beautiful buildings and churches. I loved it. You see the real Venice on the various boats that go around doing things that people in real life do. A man fixing a window of his house, standing on his boat to do so. Some guys on a boat transposting a grand piano on its side. Guys taking building rubble away on a boat, or delivering gas bottles. Young kids having fun. Old men fishing.

By the time we decided to get onto dry land again, most of the tourists had gone to wherever they go when they don’t have accommodation in Venice. San Marco square was a great deal more pleasant, and some of the restaurants along its edges started attracting crowds with live string quartets or ensembles playing popular classical music. And even after supper, when we went back to San Marco, people were still cuddling to the beats of tangos, waltzes and polkas.

Once you figure out when to not be where in Venice, it starts becoming the charming place people anticipate it to be. I suspect not many people actually experience it, though.

By a Crystal blue Italian stream

20 September

Never under (or over)estimate the size of a city.

Having only truly seen Verona at dusk, we stopped to take another walk through the town centre before leaving for Grappa area.

Verona remains a beautiful city. Somehow, the fact that you have to cross a bridge to enter an old town, makes it that much more mysterious. Ponte Scaligero was built between 1354 and 1376, and when four of its arches were blown up by the Germans in World War II, the Italians dredged the river in order to find all the parts of the bridge, and rebuilt it.

Getting out of Verona was only slightly easier than getting in. And with some detour, we eventually managed to get on our way to Bassano del Grappa. We eventualy figured out that Verona is way smaller than we thought it was, and so when you follow the map, you get way further than you think you did, and therefore constantly overshoot the target.

Our accommodation  in Grappa-country was in a little village, Mason Vicentino, outside Bassano del Grappa, which we did not think was that big in the first place. Finding our accommodation was really easy this time round, and after a brief stop, we set off to see what Grappa-country looks like. The first town we found was Marostica, which I was really sorry that we did not visit a week earlier. Apart from having the most impressive walled historical town centre, Marostica is famous for it's human chess game that only happens every even year in September. It would have been very cool to see this.

Bassano del Grappa is home of - well - Grappa. And has quite a unique wooden bridge that was built to be able to handle the forces of the water flowing down the Brenta river. There is an interesting Grappa museum, but other than that, we found the town almost indifferent to the way Italians preserve their heritage. It just seemed that they only maintain the historical bits because they have to. Perhaps the anticipation of Venice was clouding our judgement, though. And to our surprise, getting out of Bassano was virtually impossible. We wanted to head further east to some other villages, but found it almost impossible to achieve this. Bassano is way bigger than we imagined it....

We eventually did manage to drive through towns like Asolo and Possagna, and on the way back, had to pass through, and get lost in Bassano again, but we are getting quite good at going round circles until we figure things out, and eventually managed to get ourselves back home, And because Mason Vicentino is such a small place, with expectations set fairly low, we found the only fairly decent looking restaurant. Italy never seizes to surprise you. Al Pozzo was by far the most upmarket restaurant we had been to. And somehow, whenever we forget to take our phrase book, we hit restaurants with no English, and no English-speaking people. Sign language and lots of misunderstanding each other somehow ensure for a very good supper.

Size can be very deceiving.

Here I go down that wrong road again

19 September

If you start in the right place, you have a good chance of ending in the right place.

With about as early a start as we could ever make, we set off for Verona. But the very helpful book of Italian wines that I happened to find at a charity book sale, insisted that one tries the wine of the Trentino region of the Aldige valley, and because Caldaro seems to be the most recommended village, we decided to try and find a cellar there for some wine tasting. We were clearly not the only tourists with this in mind, but with some investigations and asking about, we eventually found a Wine Centre, where some helpful souls enlightened Niel on all the wines of the region. He found the Lagrein and Vernach particularly good, but was also impressed with the Pinot Grigio and Muller-Thergau.

From Caldaro it was a simple drive on the autostrada to Verona. Simple. That's when the fun started. We were armed with a map of Italy, a printed condensed map of Verona that clearly showed the major roads, a printed map of the area where our accommodation is, with strategic street names, a phone that supposedly has a GPS, and we were delighted to have a laptop with fully functioning Italian sim card for internet access, which means on the spot access to maps. And for some extra measure, we had one male who will try any direction, and won't ask, and one female who needs to be stationary to figure things out first. And when that female experiences an internal GPS failure, well - you struggle a little. It took as about two hours to eventually get so very close to a point of actually knowing where to go next, only to be stopped by the police because of road closures. The one bit of road that would have made our life so easy, was closed for some bike race. But the policeman being as friendly as police can be, told us in his best Italian, that we should just turn around and 'primo destra'. And it's not as if I had been listening to Italian language lessons for nothing over these last few months. Of course I know that destra means right.

Well - we're told that the road we then found ourselves on, was a road that was used in the first world war. We started off waiting at a robot for a good 5 minutes. When it eventually turned green, we understood why it had stayed red for so long. About 1 km of cobblestone road that is so narrow that, at times, I wanted Niel to do that cool thing that our car could do with its mirrors - turn it in so the car can squeeze through narrower alleys. But we managed to get through this first world war street unambushed, and found ourselves on a normal road. Surely it's simple from there. And it was. In no time we got to the circle where all we needed to do was pick Via San Giuliana. So we picked San Giuliana, and found ourselves on an even narrower road. But we were brave (or just extremely stupid), and continued until we get the correct number. Exhale. Except that the people on the other end of the intercom ended up trying to tell us that we should go back the way we came, and from the little church at the round-about, the second gate on the right.

And even though I would love to laboriously share the frustrations of our search, to cut a long story short, the San Giuliana that we picked was a Stradello, which I'm pretty sure means a small road. And had we picked the next street off the circle, our accommodation was a mere 50 meters further along the very normal road.

To make up for the almost three hours of painful driving, mostly oblivious of any form of direction, the accommodation is great. It has stunning views of the old city centre of Verona, with a lovely room, and promises of a good supper. So we took the correct (and very quick) way back down to the city centre, and did a quick tour of Verona at dusk, which is really very beautiful. And the minute I set foot in the old town centre, I realised how much I loved being in these beautiful old towns. There is a sense of belonging, with people happily strolling down narrow streets, pizzerias and trattorias making the hungry feel at home, and from the young, to the fashion-clad grand,  to the very old peddling along on their bicycles.

I'm still really struggling to pick my favorite part of Italy. Perhaps it is just the part that I find myself at that point in time.

Saunter by the mountains of Merano

18 September

If there is only one thing to do in Merano, it cannot possibly be washing.

We have been very happy with weather, with only a little rain in Lucca so far. Today we experienced some Southern Tyrol rain, which was not altogether a bad thing. Even when you try and fit in the vastness of Italian offerings, at some stage you need to just turn your back on some of it, and catch up with some normal life.

And so, after a late morning of reading and sleeping, we decided to drive to Bolzano, in search of a laundrette. This is seldom as easy as it sounds, but with perseverance, we eventually found a shady, but functional one, and with reluctance, I left Niel to find parking, and hopefully find me again. Which also sounds easy, but experience has taught me over and over again that there are no guarantees on Niel being able to backtrack himself back to a point.

You tend to learn a lot at laundrettes. The first lesson – how to close a washing machine, which can be useful in its own rights, but then this starts you chatting with people, who can end up offering a wealth of information. This I found at the laundrette. A Dutch dude who seems to be working his way around Italy, who understood the Afrikaans I spoke to Niel, who knew how the washing machines worked, and who advised me on where to find a sim card for internet connectivity. I did however also get some rather advancing looks from two obscure Italians who overloaded a machine with sheets they clearly used in some painting job. But at least I also managed to pass my newly-learnt skills on Italian washing-machine operations to an Italian who even offered me a cup of coffee. Not knowing the customs well enough, I politely declined. You never know what strings these Italians might want to attach to a cup of coffee.

Not the most exciting of Saturdays, but we did manage to attend to some logistrivia, now having enough clean clothes for the balance of the trip, and being the proud owners of an Italian internet sim card. And with a fairly good supper in a pizzeria in Dorf Tirol, an early night completed a good resting day.

Sometimes it’s quite fun to just be everyday people doing everyday things in everyday Italy.