Cathedrals, Canals, and Cliffs

Forget our travel to Berlin—the Munich to Milan leg takes the cake for most headache-inducing journey. Layover in Verona, where multiple delays pushed our train several hours late. When it finally showed up, everyone boarded, only to be booted off 10 minutes later. We had to buy replacement tickets because the only remaining trains were reservation-only, though when we got one it was mostly empty. Ah well!

We'd taken advantage of trusty McDonald's WiFi to shoot our hosts a message that we would be late, and they kindly waited up for us past 11:30. A pretty nice apartment with a variety of breakfast goodies included. Score!

First stop the next day in Milan was Sempione Park, a huge green space in the middle of the city on the grounds of which lie both the Peace Arch and the Sforza Castle, whose grounds we explored. Cool and gray but no rain, the brick building towered behind a deep "dead" moat, filled with grass and dozens of stray cats, whose handiwork we later saw in the form of shredded pigeon bits. Big round towers on the front corners, one large main tower, painted ceilings, and frescoes uncovered during renovation (and this is just on the exterior!).

Sforza Castle in Milan's Parco Sempione.

Cat whispering.

We moved  out the front of the castle, past a big fountain and on to the Brera district, the city growing fancier by the block. Milan overall struck me as stately, my first Italian city, nice apartments, some colorful, the ubiquitous wooden shutters, trailing vines or bursting greenery on balconies, and winding streets packed with upscale shopping, gelaterias, cafes and trattorias. Why doesn't the United States have so many butchers, or cheese shops, or wine stores, or bakeries? Everyone just buys everything at the supermarket.

Our destination was the Brera Picture Gallery, a medium sized museum up the stairs on the second floor of a marble building with a central courtyard. We felt some museum fatigue, exacerbated by the Medieval and Renaissance focus, but there were several wonderful pieces and a small contemporary section. De Cassis and Crinelli stuck in mind, and the Lamentation of Christ by Mantegna was unique.

Onward through a pretty square next to the Opera with a statue of Leondardo (whose infamous Last Supper we skipped as reservations for paltry 15 minute viewing slots must be made far in advance) and into the Piazza holding the Duomo of Milan, hurrying past the astounding building to get lunch first. Down a busy side street and into an enormous line for Luini's Panzerotti that stretched out across 1/2 the block in both directions. Everyone wanted the tasty panzerotti served here—doughy treats similar to calzones but smaller and deep fried. Cheap, delicious, and vanished all too quickly as we munched next to the Duomo.

The epic Duomo in Milan.

Insane line for panzerotti. Not pictured: the lady behind us who thought
standing awkwardly close would speed things up somehow.

Bull balls, worn down from countless
heels of tourists.

Toured around the massive white Gothic and intensely baroque sculpted church, heading inside to admire the equally detailed and realistic stained glass shining among towering thick pillars. An orchestra warmed up for a later performance in the center. Back outside and through the Palacia Emannuelle II, two long intersecting tunnels with a glass ceiling, tile floor, and many very high-end stores. One mosaic on the floor depicts a bull. You are supposed to spin three times on its balls (you read that right) for good luck.

Stopped for coffee—they do it right in Milan, cheap, fast and delicious. Then more wandering, a solid 1.5 hours way north to a skate shop that features a halfpipe and cinema inside, both of which were closed. Disappointed, we collected dinner supplies including ravioli from a homemade pasta shop, and headed home.

Bridge Hunting
Thankfully easy train voyage to Venice, the skies still gray and finally raining upon our arrival. We purchased "Rolling Venice" youth passes for a discounted 72 hour transit pass. Travel in Venice is unlike anywhere else as you must take water buses (or exorbitant taxis) from place to place. Steady but light rain added glistening beauty to an already impressive city. Surreal place with buildings bellying up against the canals, water lapping at the door. Gorgeous ancient architecture abounds, and exploration delights with little hidden altars, labyrinthine alleyways, dead end courtyards and bridges across the canals never where you need them to be.

Overpriced gondoliers ferry tourists in ornate gold-touched longboats. "Venice Victorious," proclaim winged statuettes crowning buildings, even as many crumble or decay, the high water ever threatening. Our hotel was on Lido, a long and skinny adjacent island known for its beaches (which the rain denied us). After checking in, the rain thankfully abated and we dived into the alleys. Past glowing storefronts and spotlit churches stark in the evening light. Up and down the Rialto Bridge lined with tourist shops selling clothes and the famous Carnivale masks. We ate at Orange near the University area, sampling the first of many Spritzes (a Spritz is a popular Italian aperitif beverage made with bitters, usually Campari or Aperol, mixed with soda water and prosecco).

Rialto Market.

The next day the rain was much steadier, luckily stopping later in the afternoon but first giving us the opportunity to see Venice in a flooded state. Started off visiting the half-empty Rialto Market where we grabbed berries, stopped in a cafe to dry off and down coffee, then found our way across a canal bridge to kick off our ongoing gelato addiction. Massive pedestrian traffic near St. Mark's Square was expected, but not like what we encountered. Turns out the whole piazza was flooded, with everyone without plastic booties forced to shuffle across on raised platforms helpfully installed by city workers.

Obsession starts here.

Queues on the boardwalks in flooded St. Mark's Square.

The Staircase of Gold.

We toured the Palazzo Ducali, with discount from the Rolling Venice cards, and discovered one of the coolest buildings to date. Large inner courtyard, half built in the 12 or 1300s, the other during the Renaissance. Huge staircase at the far end with statues of Mars and Neptune, a repeating motif for the ruling house of Venice. Inside up the Staircase of Gold, a foreshadowing of the ornate rooms waiting above, with the ceiling and walls covered in detailed gold-accented carvings. Upstairs was a lengthy series of huge rooms where the business of Venetian government was carried out. A series of power circles starting with the Doge, elected by the Senate and small council, supported by the Circle of 10, then Circle of 40, and smaller courts, all comprised of Venice nobility.

The rooms, and one in particular hosting Il Paradiso by Tintoretto (completed mostly by his son Domenico), were astounding. Alternately small and enormous (one room supposedly among the largest in Europe), opulent ceilings and wood paneled walls. Stuffed to the brim with frescoes and paintings from Venetian masters. Scenes of history, real and mythical. Also in the Palace were a display of arms and the Bridge of Sighs, which carried prisoners across the canal to the prisons. Some cells still had scratched graffiti from the 1600s.

After the tour we wandered around the square, now drained or nearly so, and into St. Mark's Basilica, the inner entrance still flooded. It was like entering Atlantis or something, with the ceilings covered in gold tile mosaics. Tour groups marched through the side-chapel marked "Prayer Only".

We visited Taverna del Campiello Remer for aperativo, a wonderful Italian pre-dinner where the cost of a beverage nets you access to a buffet usually made up of bread and pasta based dishes. They were closed when we stopped in, so we made our way down the street to a bar for a couple pre-drink-drinks. Back to Remer where we each had a single Spritz and proceeded to devour about five mini plates each. The owner finally conferred quietly with the bartender and the next time he passed our table dropped the bill with a smooth, "In case you forget." Definitely the nicest way to be kicked out of a restaurant for taking advantage of the buffet.

 

Back to the hotel after a bit of alley wandering, following the (sometimes hand-painted) signs pointing "Vaporetto --->" to the water bus, and up for an early voyage onwards to the other side of the country.

The Sixth of the Five Lands

Levanto is kind of good looking.

We were met in Levanto, the unofficial sixth town in the Cinque Terre, a region of five neighboring towns on the west coast of Italy, by our host, who drove us to the bed and breakfast a few minutes outside of town. A super nice room in a nearly empty place. Flopped on the huge bed to plan then walked into town, about twenty minutes surrounded by epic scenery. Alongside us a stream burbled past olive groves, citrus trees, and bamboo (who knew Italy had so much bamboo?). Tiny vineyards spread past rustic villas while one-seater pickup trucks puttered by. Small mountain peaks with small clusters of multicolored homes fingering their way across them, trees sticking up off the ridges like a mohawk.

In town we strolled along the beach and through the center a bit before inquiring at the tourist office about a pathway on the far end of the beach that led through several abandoned train tunnels. The pedestrian and bike path cut through the rocky cliffs along the shore, hazy light washing out of the far ends of the tunnels. At the far end, we found one of the many hiking trails of the region heading up over the cliffs under which we had just traversed. We headed up, the wooden railing leading us along, cliff dropping off ever higher to the right, accompanied by skittering lizards. Scrambling our way up a cliff past an area of private property, we found our way back to one of the tunnels and into Levanto.

Former train tunnel pathway in Levanto.

Wild boar tortelli from L'Articiocca.

We walked through the town a bit, stopping at the church just up the hill, then back for a pricey but extremely delicious dinner at L'Articiocca, among the best of the trip. Started off with prosecco and gattafin, the local specialty appetizer similar to fried ravioli and filled with veggies. They were dressed up at this restaurant with a boar ragu. The name translates to "happy cat" or "delicious cat" or something. Molly enjoyed sausage truffle risotto while I had wild boar tortelli (or boartelli and I called it) with chestnut sauce.

The breakfast portion of our B'n'B incuded fresh-squeezed orange juice, unlimited espresso pulls, bread, jam, nutella, foccacia (a suitable replacement for French baguettes, I suppose), and not one but two types of cake baked by the host's grandmother. Afterwards we walked back into town, through a street market and up, and up, and up, following signs for the trail to Monterosso, the northernmost of the Cinque Terre. About a two hour hike atop the cliffs beside the coast, not extremely difficult but sweat-inducing even in comfortable 65 degree sun. We ascended past villas, along open fields and handmade signs (though the official trail markings were frequent, clear and extensive—I would love to come back here to hike, mountain bike, and scuba dive). The rocky gravel trail led through woods and more terraced olive groves, extraordinary views.

Cinque Terra, Italy.

Mountain clouds encroach on homes
above Levanto.

Over Monterosso we could see all five towns wrapping out around a wide bay, many homes built right into the cliff, rocks awash in surfspray. A long descent down stairs left our legs feeling wobbly, so we stopped on a patio bar for carafes of wine and olives/peanuts before hopping the train back to Levanto, where we walked to the BnB and collected our massive bags. As it started to drop fat rain on our return walk, the father of our host happened by in his car and gave us a lift, despite the fact that we had already turned down the shuttle service as it cost a fee. He was very kind and refused our payment at the station. The kindness continued as we waited for our train, grabbing a drink at the bar and getting fed a plate of free pizza and foccacia with tip once again refused. You go, Levanto.

Apparently people don't like to buy tickets for this leg as we watched two different guys get the boot off the train. One was very upset that the conductor would even ask for his ticket. After a gaggle of students got on at Pisa and off again, the car quieted down and we coasted into Firenze, our home away from home.