Day Tripper, Yeah

We arrived in Florence in the early evening and found our (very small) apartment with relative ease - when the wife of the landlord stopped us on the street and told us where to go. We did some unpacking (forgotten clothes!) and got Chinese food from a place across the bridge. The next day we picked up groceries and did overdue laundry before attempting to see Gravity 3D but it was either in Italian or it was actually Diana, despite the information we saw (the Internet lied to me?!) so we walked around town instead. We made our first of oh so many trips to the Duomo got a bit lost but it didn't even matter because we had nowhere to be for the next 25 days. Author's note: Grom is overrated for gelato. Don't waste your time or money.

Lucca

We wanted to take advantage of the last remaining days on our rail pass, so we left for Lucca, a town a little bit over an hour northwest of Florence and the first of our four day trips. The town dates back to nearly 200 BC and the city walls built during the Renaissance are still entirely intact, and have been transformed into a loop of park space. We spotted a market so we figured we should see what there was to offer and bought a bag of zeppole and fried mozzarella to share while we wandered aimlessly (like really aimlessly) around the walls and town. Walked by a very bizarre trio of street performers and passed through the Piazza Anfiteatro, which was built on top of an ancient Roman ampitheater, but passed on the expensive coffee and climbed the Clock Tower for a view of the entire wall. We thought about killing time until dinner but decided that filling another 6 hours would be difficult and headed back to Florence early instead.

Walking the walls in Lucca, Tuscany's answer to Wash Park

Climbing up the stairs to the Clock Tower

Monte Argentario

I wanted to take advantage of the weather before it got chilly so we traveled (quite a bit) to La Feniglia beach for some sun. Another instance of misinformation had us boarding a bus that went kind of where we wanted to go but not actually. We walked along the coast looking for the beach for awhile before I asked a handful of people for directions and we were back on the right track. Until we missed the stop and the bus driver instructed us to stay on the bus so he could drop us off there (which is not a bus stop). A brief walk down a rural road and we were at the water, where we rented chairs and napped/read/drank/did all the things you do on a beach. The beach was littered with starfish and the water was incredibly shallow - at over 50 yards out, I was only waist deep. We took our time walking to the bus stop and were mere blocks away from the train station when the transportation officers boarded the bus and checked tickets. We had legitimately and honestly purchased four bus tickets that morning, but Joe had validated his return ticket when we took the bus transfer early on. With a language barrier as thick as the walls in Lucca, we paid her €20 and she wrote Joe a ticket (non va bene). A bit disheartened, we found an aperitivo down the street and our mood shifted. We loaded up on pasta, pizza, veggies, chips and booze and chatted with a local who loved the fact that we were American. The bar owner kept trying to stop him from talking to us for fear of him being a nuisance but it was comical. We had a long train ride home that I slept through pretty much entirely.

At La Feniglia

The port at Monte Argentario

Prato

The day before our faithful rail passes expired, we took a quick 20 minute ride to Prato, just north of Florence. Prato is a small town and the origin of biscotti, as well as the hometown of Roberto Benigni, Filippo Lippi, Lorenzo Bartolini, and Antonio Brunelli. The Cathedral of Santo Stefano features Lippi frescoes and an external pulpit done by Donatello, and features a green marble striped facade similar to that in Florence. The plaza outside Santa Maria delle Carceri was under construction and took some investigating to find the door to the dome, especially considering I kept asking for the entrance to the church in Spanish - not helpful. We stopped in Palazzo Datini, the 14th century home built for Francesco Datini, more commonly known as the Merchant of Prato. Datini started working with a group of merchants at 15 years old and eventually set the price on every commodity that was traded. His records are mind blowing, as every single item was documented over the course of his 40 years of work. After exhausting the palazzo, we wandered around the town and realized that nearly every business, regardless of the variety, was closed. In fact, most places in town did not open until after 3pm, a phenomenon that could not be explained to us. Not only that, but our search for biscotti in the town that invented biscotti was proving difficult. We found a dress made of biscotti on display but it wasn't until our final walk to the train station that we found actual, edible biscotti. Before leaving, we went inside the Castello dell'Imperatore, Emperor Frederick II's castle built in 1240. The inside was totally empty but we could climb up to the ramparts and walk around the top for a nice view of the city. We hopped back on the train to Florence as we had reservations at a 4 Leoni, a restaurant in Santo Spirito with good reviews and a recommendation from our landlord, but dinner was lackluster and the service was so bad Joe created a TripAdvisor account just to (negatively) review them. In all fairness, the pear pasta was fabulous, but the manzo tasted like frozen P.F. Chang orange beef.

On top of the walls of Castello dell'Imperatore with the the dome of Santa Maria delle Carceri in the background

Statue of Francesco Datini

Chianti/Siena

Upon recommendation from Lucy, one of my best friends from high school, we made reservations to visit the vineyards at Brancaia Winery in Chianti, where it also happened to be harvest time. Since it was in the middle of a rural area, we had to rent a car to get there and decided to drive to Siena from there. The walk to the airport was fairly long, but finding the actual cars was much more difficult. After finally locating a shuttle, we were taken to the rental lots and checked in with our very low budget* dealers. We wanted a Fiat or a Mini but we ended up with a small Nissan, which was fine because it was a manual and had an iPod transmitter so we didn't have to listen to the radio. It also had a scorpion! As soon as we sat down in the car, we found a tiny but very much alive and very real scorpion that we had to get rid of before we got on the highway. Navigation wasn't too trying and we made it into Chianti, drove down dirt roads and passed horses pulling logs on the way into the estate. The appointment before us was running long but the weather was beautiful so we had no complaints as we sat outside in the sun overlooking the vineyards. The sommelier was a young guy who happened to have a girlfriend in Denver, so we have tentative plans to meet up when he visits her in February. We toured the cellar and saw the mash being loaded into trucks for transport before getting to try all of the wines Brancaia makes. After the tour, we cruised through the hills to Siena, a walled in town with an amazing sloping piazza where the last remaining Palio horse race takes place. We parked outside the walls and took a series of escalators up into the town. We grabbed some gelato and basked in the Piazza del Campo for awhile, then walked over to the Duomo to gawk at its Gothic architecture. Since we were paying for parking by the hour, we didn't stay in Siena for long and got back on the road. Our intention had been to go visit a castle in Chianti that the sommelier had told us about. We drove through much of Chianti and reached the subdivision it was in, but couldn't find it. With incredible views and hairpin turns, we were certainly not complaining or regretting the decision. We returned the car to the airport after very stressful navigating and the same wrong turn made at least three times, only to miss the hourly bus going back into the city. We were waiting in line for a cab and asked if we could share with a British couple, offering to split the fare to wherever their hotel was since we just needed to get back to the center. The guy ended up paying entirely and refused to take any money from us, so in cheerful spirits we picked up dinner from Gusta Pizza (more on that later) and called it an awesome day.

*The car company we rented from most likely (okay almost definitely) stole my credit card information and spent $400 at a toy store in Naples. 

Siena Cathedral

Palazzo Pubblico and Torre del Mangia in Piazza del Campo

Moonrise over Chianti

Pisa

We bought our first train tickets sans rail pass for Pisa, where we were meeting the parents of one of my other best friends from high school. The plan was to meet in front of the tower at noon, but as we were strolling through the streets of Pisa, I just happened to spot Bernard and Lorraine! We walked over to Piazza dei Miracoli where the tower, duomo, and baptistry are to take some tourist photos with the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We had a few hours to kill before our timed entrance to the tower, so we grabbed a snack and some coffee nearby. Luckily, we had asked what the deal was with the line so we knew ahead of time that we had to check our bags before entering across the piazza in the ticket building. Europeans are weird about purses and backpacks, for the record. Joe and I had failed to buy tickets to the Leaning Tower so we were grateful and excited to learn that Bernard and Lorraine already bought ours with theirs. Way to be on top of things, guys! We entered the tower and sat in a little room at the bottom while a guide explained to us the history and why it leans, etc., before we made the 296 step climb to the top. It's definitely a weird sensation to climb a round building that is tilted, as your equilibrium changes every time you make it halfway around the circumference. The view from the top is great, of course, and you can even walk around the bell chamber (which is not allowed when they are ringing). Once we were ushered back down the stairs, we made a stop in the Cathedral. Our tickets didn't allow entry to the baptistry so we had to imagine what it might look like. The duomo in Pisa has large bronze doors and features an incredibly intricate marble pulpit carved in the early 1300's and the remains of some saints. I say some saints because that's as much information as a non-Catholic can retain. We got on the train headed for Florence and found the Slack's hotel, then met up a few hours later for dinner. This time, dinner at 'O Munaciello, or Muna, was much more successful and delicious than our previous find.

Inside Pisa Cathedral

One side of Piazza dei Miracoli

Joe taking a picture of Bernard, Lorraine and I taking this priest's picture

Bernard exiting the Bell Chamber

Our time in Florence was fantastic and the city has definitely left its mark on both of us. We are currently compiling a list of our favorite places there/the places we miss most now that we're back in the U.S. for a future post that is hopefully done sooner rather than later. Thanks for staying tuned!

Craft Beer in Florence

Birre artigianale en Firenze—yes, the craft beer revolution has spread even here, to wine-centric Italy. The beautiful home of the Renaissance sports several microbreweries and bars dedicated to the art of water, malt, yeast, and hops. While Belgium, Germany, and the Czech Republic had our favorite brews of the trip, and other Italian regions may have an edge in overall quality (see Loverbeer or Baladin), there is some fantastic beer to be had in Tuscany, too. Here are some of our favorite spots.

Mastodolce

This birrificio is a quick stroll up Via Nazionale from Santa Maria Novella train station. Behind open garage doors lies a medium sized bar and restaurant pouring five or six varieties of their own brew, made in Prato, which is just north of Florence. Good atmosphere and a mix of locals and tourists. They also feature a full kitchen that was putting out some tasty looking pizza. We enjoyed the Martellina most, a honey red ale with a deceptively strong 7.3% abv. Very drinkable and not too sweet. Other styles included smoked ale, weizen, bock, and stout, all solid. With happy hour from 15:30—19:30, there's no reason not to swing by going to or from a train...or to make a trip for the beer alone.

Enjoying the open air--and of course beers--at Mostodolce.

Beer House Club

Staying north of the Arno but heading west near Santa Croce, you'll find the Beer House Club a stone's throw from the bridge, near several other hip bars and cafes. Ten taps lie at the back of this large bar. Not as inviting to sit in for long periods, unless you have a coveted couch spot, they too feature a full kitchen and aperitivo (the cocktail/buffet hour) to boot. Beers were mostly from Italy but the selection spanned the world. We were excited to see Great Divide Yeti and Titan boxes decorating the walls. A great place to grab aperitivo and watch Florence football.

While you're at Beer House Club, swing around the corner of Via de Benci to visit Kikuya, an English pub with decent beer choices from the UK including the Dragoon, a 10% ABV double ale famed among the locals and tourists enjoying sports here for its strength.

Archea has a variety on tap and bottles to boot.

Archea Brewery

Last but not least is our favorite watering hole in the entire town, Archea, located on Via dei Serragli just around the corner from the Piazza Santo Spirito. The bartenders mostly spoke English, they play excellent rock tunes (Wilco and the Builders and the Butchers both made an appearance), and the beer is great. They are pretty young, founded only a year or two ago, and only have three brews going—a bock, an IPA, and an pilsner. The Hydra IPA is a solid rendition of the style, a good amount of hops compared to many of the weaker European versions around. They also have several other taps with beers from Italia and around the world (Rogue was the only American brew alla spina). We had our first taste of Loverbeer here, a sour that was among the best of the trip. With free bottomless chips, a rowdy local crowd for soccer matches, and students and tourists too, this is a great place to meet people and talk beer while sipping on a few. Happy hour from 18:00 – 20:00 gives you a one euro discount on Archea's pilsner and ale.

So there you have it. Craft beer is everywhere it seems, and Florence certainly has some damn good places to enjoy it. Get out there and let us know what we missed.

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.