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david
and carol
Our Magnificent
Journey | Chapter 1 | Europe 1999 | London, Paris, Venice, Florence |
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5.24.99 - 5.25.99 |
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Monday / Tuesday |
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Days 4 and 5 |
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Today we slept late. Got up at 9:00 because
we were exhausted, and had our little French breakfast brought
up to our little French room in our little French hotel. Carol
was feeling a wee bit under the weather and couldn't eat. Sadly,
it was to be our last day in glorious Paris, so we packed our
bags and left them in a storage area near the dining room. The
concierge told us we had an email message - it was from neighbor
Boe, letting us know that Cody was fine. God bless Boe. |
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Revived, we decided to take the metro back
to the Latin Quarter. Had some confusion at the metro, where
we bumped into a similarly disoriented woman from Toronto - another
Carol - who was travelling alone. We all finally decided (guessed)
on a direction and wound up once more - you guessed it - at Notre-Dame.
We bid Carol des Toronto au revoir and we were off to
explore the Quarter once more. Found a quiet cafe and sat outside
and enjoyed soupe a l'ongion and soupe des poissons.
Sat near and visited with a woman from Sorrento, Italy, who spoke
fair English and was excited about her July trip to Miami. |
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After lunch we walked and window-shopped around
the Quarter and strolled up Boulevard St. Michele towards the
Sorbonne, where we sat near a square called the Place de la Sorbonne.
Some barefoot children played in the fountain as we sat at another
outdoor café for an hour nibbling on salad and Perrier. |
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Our respite over, we walked several blocks
to the Jardin du Luxembourge, a large, picturesque park with
benches and chairs and flowers and statues and lakes and lovers
and lots of birds and people who enjoy feeding them. Before entering
the gates to the Jardin, however, we perused the fare at a nearby
bread and confectionery shop offering enticing candies and breads
of all types. We observed an older, dapper pony-tailed Frenchman
purchase something sweet for his son or grandson, then we bought
an ice cream cone for ourselves at a stand outside the chic little
shop and walked across Rue de Medicis and through the iron gates
of the Jardin. Today is Pentecost, a national holiday, so the
park is teeming with people. Many shops are closed, and Carol
was disappointed because we had wanted to have a picnic on tonight's
12-hour train ride from Paris to Venice. Oh well… |
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We sat in the lovely, bucolic and serene Jardin
for about an hour - first rate people-watching spot. We then
walked across to the west side of the Jardin where I took a photo
of some cute kids enjoying pony rides, and we searched for -
yes, you guessed it - a toilette. Since the public ones cost
a couple of francs and we were momentarily coinless, we decided
to wait and eventually found a port-o-johnny set off to one side
of the park. We made good use of it and walked back to the hotel.
On the way we were going to sit at an outdoor café, but
just as we sat down we heard and felt a city bus smack into the
head of a young pedestrian - actually I believe the fellow walked
into the bus. The driver was beside himself, and the kid was
stunned. There was a huge head-sized dent in the windshield.
Soon the gendarmes came, as well as an ambulance. At this point
we both had to find yet another toilette, so the two of us crammed
into one of the fancy new one-person public automatic toilettes
that you see on the boulevards of Paris. It was clean, but cramped
with both of us inside. We had to hurry, since it automatically
cleaned itself regularly and can get quite wet. It was a fun,
unique experience, and we survived the ordeal. Not bad for two
francs… |
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On the way back to the hotel to retrieve our
bags we bought some cheese and cookies at a small market that
was open on Pentecost (must have been Jewish.) Said adieu
to our wonderful little French hotel, and a very pleasant young
French taxi driver chauffeured us to the smoky old train station
at Gare du Lyon. |
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We sat in a corner of the crowded, noisy station
and sampled beers, wines and cigars near a French gentleman who
fed beer to his little French poodle with his fingers. |
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Finally it was time to board the 8:00 overnight
train to Venice. We were escorted to our private first-class
cabin, another of Carol's extraordinary travel arrangements.
Our compartment was small but very cozy and charming. A Tuscan
landscape decorated one wall. We met our neighbors, New Jersians
Jon and Michelle Ruben, and took photos of each other with our
heads out the windows. It was excruciatingly sad to leave Paris,
but as the train slowly pulled out of the station, the concierge
brought us champagne and nuts, and we were delighted. We visited
with Jon and Michelle and watched our beloved Paris recede into
the distance as the picture-postcard French countryside rolled
by the windows. This was fun. |
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We had made 8:30 dinner reservations, so the
four of us cautiously walked through the bouncing and shifting
train until we found the dining car. We had a sumptuous dinner
of pasta, chicken and peas, rolls, desert, wine and coffee, and
afterwards drank more wine and sat and visited with Jon and Michelle
for several hours as we watched the sun set on France, and then
Switzerland, through the large windows of the dining car. It
was exhilarating, and we were the last to leave the dining car,
to the amusement of the sleepy waiters. |
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We went back to our cabins, which had been
oh-so-cozily made up by the train crew. Carol was delighted to
find that our concierge had left us two small, compact and complete
toiletry kits, which we kept as mementos. |
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I took the upper bunk and Carol stretched
out in the lower. I could not sleep because when I lay down I
suddenly realized that I could stick my feet right out the window
and watch the Alps, Switzerland and Italy roll by my feet. I
was up all night watching dazzling thunderstorms way up in the
Alps, which were magnificent. It rained, and the cool wetness
on my feet was soothing. As the sun began to creep up in the
East, I wandered back down to the dining car where I watched
vineyards, cypress trees and tiny Italian villages roll by in
the early-morning sunlit mist. We stopped once in a train station,
and I watched a young couple spend at least 20 minutes kissing
and hugging. She was on her way somewhere and this was a heartfelt
goodbye. As I watched from my spot in the dining car, I saw the
sign "Verona," and then it hit me like a bolt of last
night's lightning - here I was, in Verona, watching Romeo say
goodbye to his Juliet. What a trip… |
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I walked back to our cabin after spending
some precious time absorbing the sublime Tuscan landscape, mesmerized
by it, not wanting to miss a mile of it. |
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We were to have breakfast this morning in
our cabins. Carol was sleepily awake, and the concierge brought
us a delicious little breakfast of coffee, rolls, cheese, jam
and chocolates. We ate while we watched the small Italian villages
stirring - people out in the morning sun tending their gardens,
their sheep and their vineyards. This was truly a train ride
we will never forget. |
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We never did see Jon or Michelle again, and
we were concerned about them. Perhaps he had had a wee bit too
much wine. We polished off quite a few bottles of Chianti last
night. [I tracked them down when we got back to the U.S. - they
were simply doing what we were doing - enjoying a leisurely private
breakfast and the hypnotic scenery.] |
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Soon we were pulling into Venice's Santa Lucia
station and said arrivaderci and sincere grazie
to the Italian concierge and crew. It had been a memorable twelve
hours. |
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Our little Venetian hotel, the Hotel Florida,
was, thankfully, very close to the train station. It was basic,
clean and the staff were very nice, cordial and helpful. We were
both very excited to explore Venice, but we were exhausted (remember
- I had been up watching Europe roll by my feet all night.) So
we slept for a couple of hours, quite soundly. |
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We rose, showered and, refreshed, set out
to explore the magic and grandeur of the watery, ancient "Pearl"
of Venice, Queen of the Adriatic. Fifteen centuries old, and
built on ancient wooden pilings in a lagoon, the city is still
sinking and succumbs to periodic tidal flooding. The wealth of
Venice had at one time, long ago, been the envy of Europe - a
wealth to stagger the imagination. It had once been a city-state
overflowing with spices, silks, glassware - trade from the newly
discovered routes to the East. Her government was so "democratic"
that the framers of our Constitution studied it. Today, her economic,
commercial and political power and greatness are but a memory.
But what remains is a breathtaking legacy of art, architecture,
museums, pallazos, piazzas, and a unique way and pace of life
that lives on today. |
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Venice beckoned us. As the bright mid-morning
sun sparkled off the aquamarine canals, we set out to savor her
unique flavors. Our goal was the magnificent central pigeon-covered
square of Piazza San Marco, with its priceless Byzantine Basilica
and tall clock tower. We wandered down meandering narrow sidewalk-sized
cobble-stoned streets that suddenly opened into courtyards where
people drank wine and laughed and relaxed and visited. The streets
have names that translate into "Street of Wines," "Street
of Beans," "Street of the Spice Dealer," "Street
of the Almond Dealer," and "Street of Assassins."
We became lost quite a few times, which we thoroughly enjoyed.
We crossed the large and small canals many times over many bridges
of varying heights and dimensions. One, the Accademia Bridge,
is quite steep, and I was able to capture on film some of the
peaceful charm of the Grand Canal. Venice is nothing if not enchanting
and romantic. The gondoliers were postcard perfect. The weather
was divine, with cool breezes coming off the Adriatic. The vaporetto
water-busses worked their way from stop to stop along the Grand
Canal. Many immense, elegant ancient buildings with a byzantine
flavor, once the palatial homes of wealthy families. Narrow,
tall streets, many shops offering wines, foods, jewelry, and
art. We saw an interesting artist's studio. This fellow carved
some amazingly realistic everyday items from wood, such as shoes,
hats, hands and tablecloths. |
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Pausing along the waterway across the lagoon
from the Lido, not very far from the Piazza San Marco, we indulged
in beer and wine and a delicious antipasto di mare, which
contained a Venetian specialty - sardines in vinegar and oil
with onions. Escuizzito!! Walking further along we came
across an interesting looking hotel called Hotel Flora - very
elegant with a wonderful private courtyard and fountain. |
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We finally made our way into the large square
of the Piazza San Marco. As we entered this old gathering place,
we heard the strains of Elvis's "I Can't Help Falling
In Love With You," played by one of several small orchestras
situated around the square. This sweet song, the sight of all
of the people gathered much as they must have for centuries,
the thousands of pigeons, the ornate 13th century Byzantine Basilica
di San Marco and the very tall clock tower, the Torre dell'Orologio,
made us both very emotional; we stopped to reflect on our love
and our lives together and the great fortune that we were able
to be here to experience it all. |
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Napoleon once described the Piazza San Marco
as the "most elegant drawing room in Europe." Nearby
is a café once frequented by Hemingway, among others of
note. Here also is the gothic Palazzo Ducale, once home to Venice's
rulers. We walked amongst the hundreds of people gathered in
the square, many feeding the pigeons, and bathed in the warm,
pleasant Venetian sun and air. During our stay in Venice we returned
to San Marco and listened as the different orchestras caught
our attention with various offerings. We heard an Andrea Bocelli
tune, "Con Te Partiro," and we were so very
glad to be in Italy. |
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We began to wander back through the tiny winding
streets until we got lost again, and a sweet tiny old Venetian
woman did her best to guide us in Italian. We had no idea what
she was saying but she was so adorable that we smiled and thanked
her profusely. Many, many inviting shops along the way, some
quite elegant. We tasted our first of many gelatis along
the way. |
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Back at the hotel I called the office and
we rested, then freshened up for more exploration. We went back
out into the cool Venetian evening and this time went east down
the Lista di Spagna towards the Cannaregio area instead of over
the nearby Ponte degli Scalzi traghetto (bridge) over
the Grand Canal. Venice is shaped like a backward S and can be
confusing at first. A readable map is a must-have. |
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Locating a quaint outdoor café, we
drank wine and I savored a Cubano as we watched the stunningly
beautiful Italian men and women as they went about their way
and began to end their day. The Italians are exquisite - the
people in general are very chic and strikingly attractive. We
had such pleasure just sitting there, sipping our wine, tasting
the excellent Cuban cigar and watching these gorgeous people. |
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We began to get hungry, so we retreated a
couple of blocks back to Trattoria Vittorio, owned by Vincenza,
and highly recommended by Mario, our concierge at the Hotel Florida.
The waiter, Enzo, took an immediate liking to us, and poked fun
at Carol's indecisiveness when it came time to order. He laughed
at her insistence on "no French fries." He was wonderful
and funny and we managed to get some great photos which we will
snail mail to him and the restaurant. Carol had risotto con
fruita di mare and grilled sea bass, both delicious, and
I had spaghetti alle vongole, far and away the very best
spaghetti I have ever tasted - spaghetti in a rich butter sauce
with lots of salt, and smothered with very fresh clams. Molte
escuizzito!! We had two liters of the superb red house wine,
which had the faint suggestion of sweet flowers, and the entire
bill for a most memorable dinner was a mere $50 U.S. The "tourist"
menu had dinners for around $13 but we were very happy with our
selections. We gratefully thanked Enzo and Vincenzo, and were
sad to leave the restaurant. |
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Carol went back to the hotel, which was nearby,
to, yes, use the toilette, while I huddled with other tourists
around some artists who were painting some quite realistic and
moody scenes of this fabulous and fun Italian city. |
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We then walked again towards Piazza San Marco.
Venice is small. A brisk walk from our hotel to San Marco, literally
across Venice, takes about an hour. Along the way we noticed
a concert of Vivaldi and Albinoni going on inside an old church.
We put our ears to the large old wooden door and for a few minutes
were treated to some lovely and delicate violin music. Finally
we arrived at San Marco, and we sat down in the square to listen
to the various orchestras. As I massaged Carol's tired feet,
we both realized that it was unlikely that we could make the
hour's trek back to the hotel. We had walked at least 15 miles
today, every step unforgettable. So we dragged our tired selves
around the corner to the vaporetto stand and bought tickets
on the water-bus back through the curving canals and to our hotel.
The vaporetto was crowded with late-night revelers, made
thirteen stops along the way, and we enjoyed the ride. We were
so exhausted when we finally got back to the hotel that we fell
into bed and slept like babies. |
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copyright 1998 / david
and carol lehrman / all rights reserved |
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email david@davidandcarol.com |
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