Rome... in 3 hours

Who needs a week to do Rome? Dave and I pretty much covered the place in 3 hours. Oh, we might have missed a chapel here or a ruin there, but really, one pile of stones is much like another, don't you think?

First stop, the Colosseum, where we were accosted, actually assaulted, by 3 burly gladiators. After they plopped the hat on Dave and made me point the sword right...there...they demanded 20 euros ($35!!!) Dave gave them 2 euros, which made them very grumpy and belligerent. 

Then the metro, 

to St Paul's Basilica,

which is the size of about 6 football fields and holds the remains (or presumed remains) of St Paul. This photo shows a side area of the main nave. Note the size of the people near the doors, which are, by the way, about 60 feet high. Also note: this is a side area, no pews, no chapels, just columns. (Dad, correct me if I'm wrong)

Back on the metro, dark and crowded and rather grimy. Not a place I'd want to be on my own at night.

If you want to find the way to the Vatican, just follow the nuns. There are lots of them to follow.

Or you could follow the crowds...

There are lots of them too.

At this point, after nine weeks of dozens and dozens of fabulous sights, walking 3,000 miles, driving through the countryside, small towns and cities that are impossible to navigate and populated with crazy drivers... we are ready to come home. 

We have been communicating in Italian, reading menus we don't understand, figuring out the bus to get to the best pizzeria, and it's all been fantastic. Amazing. But now we just want to sit. And drink wine. We find a take out pizza joint down the block, buy a couple of slices of pizza (in French!) and take it back to our hotel. It is the very worst pizza we have ever had. But the wine is delicious and our feet are up. And we found an english channel on TV, so much better than the Italian version of Wheel of Fortune, which we have renamed Breasts of Fortune. Cleavage is important in Italy. 

So our final night in Italy is spent much like our favourite way to spend an evening at home: food, wine, and good company.

KA

Picnic Lunch, Sorrentine style

As far as we can surmise, Italians don't "picnic". Highways have no pullouts or rest areas (except for behind the gas stations), and town parks are places to sit, but not eat. They go home around 1 or 1:30 for enormous 3 course lunches, then head back to work around 3 or 3:30. But we're on a tight budget so we'd like to present our solution to noon-time hunger.

Step 1, 

Find wood-oven pizzeria for bread. This is rare since most of the good Pizzerias don't open for lunch. Purchase bread.

Step 2,

With knife purchased in Paris (and destined for gift giving), open bread pocket.

Step 3,

Slice local vine ripened tomatoes, thick.

Step 4,

Gently portion Bufala (buffalo mozzerella).

Step 5,

Gently tear into two slightly unequal portions (large "half" goes to cook)

Step 6,

Don't forget the Peroni!

Each your sandwich while overlooking the old town Sorrento

If you like, you can also grill your sandwich on a ceramic BBQ!

Or find one of the few cozy spots on the shoreline and watch the fishermen repair their nets.

DM

A church of Macabre and Mosaics

Tucked in a cove on the farthest southeast coast of Italy survives the small town of Otranto. Since recorded history and likely before, it's been a crossroad of commerce, culture, and conquest. In all our travels we haven't come across of a town with such a trampled past. Greeks, Romans, Turks, Byzantine emperors, Dukes, French, Neopolitans among others -- and most recently tourists -- have captured it's inhabitants. This far south, there survives many remnants of this varied past, including a functioning 12th century Norman clock tower.

The important site here is the town's main cathedral. In 1480, an Ottoman Turkish fleet suddenly invaded Otranto and demanded of it's Christian inhabitants to convert to the Muslim faith. Residents refused to capitulate, and some 800 townsfolk were taken to the hills and beheaded. During the same year, the town was rescued and a castle was built to proudly protect future inhabitants.

In a side chapel, the exhumed bones of the beheaded are now stacked on display within glass chambers, as a testament of their faith. Macabre or moving? These poor souls have since received sainthood and a similar display exists in Naples.

More amazing is the recently restored mosaic tile floor. In 1166, an over-zealous and obviously creative priest took over two years to cover the entire cathedral floor with 1cm coloured tiles, some 300 years before Columbus sailed for North America. The floor was completely restored a few years ago and church services still take place on the mosaic, although during the day the most important parts are protected from tours and school groups.

DM

Suggestions of the Road

Our new theme song is "Drive Like an Italian" sung to whatever tune fits at the moment.

Dave's inner Italian has emerged. He is cooking like an Italian, and driving like an Italian. Turns out driving like an Italian is far more important to our health and happiness (not to mention survival) than cooking well. Left to me we would still be driving in circles in the first roundabout out of the airport. 

The 'Rules of the Road' in Italy are more like 'Suggestions of the Road'. Stop signs, red lights, lines on the road, all are mere suggestions of conduct, to be considered as options.

As we drive, cars come toward us in our lane. This is usual, and we are expected to move out of the way. If a car pulls out of an intersection in front of us, it's our problem. We move into the line of on coming traffic to make space.

We have learned a cardinal rule. DO NOT HESITATE. If we are walking or driving, it is  expected that we will maintain our pace and continue moving forward. Drivers anticipate where we will be and drive accordingly. If we hesitate, we are messing with their minds and they will plow into us. 

 A traffic cop trying in vain to prevent people from parking all over the place. Note the stylish uniform and Gucci sunglasses

On a rural road there is some work underway. A temporary traffic light is set up, and it's red, so we stop. A Mercedes roars up behind us and passes without a glance. WHAT? As good Canadians we wait for the light to  turn green, and when it does we venture forward. But the trucks and road crew have no idea if the light is green or red, it makes no difference to where they put their vehicles, their equipment. The stop light was merely a suggestion.

In small towns older gentlemen ride bikes.  They are dignified in wool cardigans and caps,  and they pedal slowly on ancient rusty bikes. Admirable and charming to be sure. Until you have to avoid running over them in a narrow lanes where two cars are passing where there ought to be one. The gentlemen are often decrying the situation with much vigour and gesticulation.  Which is easy to see and hear when they are  two inches from our window.

Cooking like an Italian is considerably simpler. 

Our tiny but pretty kitchen in Villetta Serena

 Fresh local ingredients and we're cooking like an Italian

KA

Hiding in the Rosemary Bush

I can't grow Rosemary. Kim and I have tried for years. It just doesn't happen on our little plot of land. We have friends and family who have no problem (you know who you are). Well here in southern Italy, the plant is as common as alder and salal at home. It's planted everywhere as greenery, and it grows like a weed. 

Olive groves and wildflowers

Our timing to visit Puglia in May is perfect for catching the enormous bloom of spring flowers. We've deduced that locals consider "weeding" to be sacreligious until the weeds have withered and browned. It takes a bit of time to get used to: the roadways, gardens, and every bare spot of land is covered in weeds. But the upside is a constant colourful treat to the eye.

Poppies are everywhere in early May

Our villa rental in southern Puglia, near Lecce

The garden path at Villa Diana. Cats seem to like Dave

Dinner beside the vineyard, Villa Diana

Local stone, the preferred building material for everything, is so soft, it can be cut with a handsaw.

Cactus and Yucca are also common here

I'm the first person in the pool this year. Here I'm gathering my courage. Although the days are sunny and warm, the water is not up to temperature yet.

We reached the farthest point south on the heel of Italy last week. The drive from our villa took almost two hours to navigate the south eastern coastline which is rugged and steep, lined with stunted pine forests, terraced olive groves and white-washed estate homes. Rounding the bend, it changes to miles of sand beaches, lined with summer resorts but still asleep for winter; Italy does not holiday until July. I wanted to go for a swim but the mediterranean water is still too cold.

DM

Far off in the distance is the coast of Africa.

The tourist brochures have it all wrong!

Well, it's the first mistake I've made this trip: booking a rental car online. 

They do things differently here. Although I thought I was reserving a Ferrari, I ended up with this:

And on our third day we headed to the italian seaside for a beach experience. Free wine and bottled water!

DM

Puglia. Where's that?

Weeks ago I booked a "cheap" flight to Italy, with trepidation, on one of many discount carriers available with a "WWW" preceeding an airline name. Italy's official carrier, "Air Italia" wanted $1800 for a one way ticket. Myair.com wanted only $70. We decided to go with the discount airline.

But don't be fooled by the term "Discount", they charge for every computer keystroke. Firstly, you pay the entry fee. To play the discount game, the earlier you book a flight, the cheaper it is. BUT, if the plane doesn't fill, then often the flight is cancelled. 

Next, you pay for checked luggage -- this is where they make their profits. Prepurchased luggage carriage is $15 per bag (one bag per person), but it can only weigh 18kg. If you arrive at the airport with more, you pay dearly! (at press time, it's close to $10 extra PER KG). 

Carry-on luggage is restricted to one piece only (sorry ladies, that includes your purse) and can weigh only 10kg. Many carryon bags are weighed and tagged if overweight is suspected.

Finally it's time to pay for the flight. You have no choice but to pay the 10 euro "credit card payment fee". And if you're a sucker for insurance, pre-boarding perks, and a $10 sandwich..... that's also extra, and it all adds up.

But we're happy to be on our way. Unfortunately with discount airlines, there's no further contact once you've booked your ticket... no reminder email, no online boarding passes, no maps, no instructions as to terminal etc.  and Paris Charles de Gaule airport is huge, and has three teminals! Which one? Luckily we find our way to TERMINAL 3. It's a bare bones hanger sort-of-place, and empty. Nobody. With a sinking feeling we wonder... does this airline even exist? ( have they taken off with our money?) 

Terminal 3 check-in counters. Who's checking in?

I wonder if we will be staying the night?

2 hours later, the terminal sputters to life. In total, there's 40 check-in counters, and ours is one of only 4 in action. It seems the discount airlines are having a tough time right now... nobody's flying and flights are being cancelled. But luckily our's is reality and we board the plane (one hour late) and we're on our way.

We've landed in Puglia: the "heel of the boot" of Italy, and our first stop is four nights in Ostuni, "Citta Bianca", the white walled city. Our apartment is right next to the old town which predates modern Victoria by some 1700 years (give or take 200). 

Don't think of driving here even with a miniature car. Most "streets" are pedestrian, not because they're so narrow, but there's steps involved too. Park close to where you're going, and walk.

Ostuni, Puglia, the white city

The countryside here is lined with ancient stone walls spotted with olive groves

This is our street, in the "newer" end of town (1700s)

Cheap wine. This is the boxed variety and only 60 cents.

The view from our rooftop terrace. Good suntanning spot!

Luckily, we've planned our stay to coincide with the weekly market. It's on Saturday's only, and it's the largest outdoor market we've ever seen. Besides a football-field parking lot of shoe, lingerie and kitchen tool vendors, there's also the requisite food stalls brimming with a feast from the local countryside. We load up on all the freshest regional produce including: strawberries, 1kg  of rapini, 10 early artichokes (10 for $3), sicilian oranges, buffalo mozzerella, tomatoes, fava beans, procuitto, 500 grams of local olives, and one lemon.

DM