Florence and Pisa

I finally made it to Florence, Italy.  It has been a long time coming.  The last time we came to the port city of Liverno, I was given escort duty to the medieval town of Lucca, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  But I always regretted not seeing Florence.  

Today, both Michael and I had escort duty on the same tour.  That doesn't happen too often, but when it does, we make the most of it.  Liverno is the gateway to the Tuscany region of Italy and all the treasures it holds.  Tuscany is surrounded by mountains; these mountains produce Carrera and white marble.  The day started with rain and dark, heavy clouds. Our first stop of the day was to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  Driving through the countryside, we passed Camp Darby, a US military installation, surrounded with concertina wire and umbrella pines.  Our guide hinted that most of the activity takes place underground, but what activity she didn't know.  Maybe I didn't understand her too well because she end every word with an "a," just like they do when someone does a parody of an Italian speaking English.  

After a 45 minutes bus ride, we arrived in Pisa.  The rain was more like a drizzle and the local vendors were selling umbrellas, and doing a good business.  I bought a selfie stick.  We then boarded a wheel-train, a tram in the shape of a train, to take us to the tower.  You cannot drive to the Tower of Pisa.  

So what exactly is the Leaning Tower of Pisa?  In medieval times, all villages had a central religious square that contained a bell tower, a church, and a baptismal, three separate building.  The buildings at Pisa were built around the 11th century.  The Leaning Tower of Pisa was the bell tower.  It is made out of white marble, is 150 feet high, and is empty inside.  There is a walk around on the outside of the structure to get to the top.  Today, there is a 17 degree lean.  During the tower's construction, the foundation shifted before the third tier was completed.  Architect Bonanno Pisano was devastated, but as they say, the rest is history.  Efforts have been underway to stablize the structure with mixed success.  Check another one off the bucket list.

We had a long drive from Pisa to Florence.  Driving inland, the skies began to clear and by the time we arrived in Florence, we had sunny weather.  Driving through the countryside, I saw many abandoned brick houses, open fields,  gardens, and miles and miles of plant nurseries.  Dotted on the hillsides were yellow, ochre, or pink houses with orange tile roofs and green trim.

We finally arrived in Florence, and being such an old city with narrow streets, we had to leave the bus and walk to the old part of the city.  This city is the cradle of the Italian Renaissance, with a wealth of architectural and artistic treasures including works by Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Bottielli, and Michelangelo.  

And we walked, and walked.  I had a person in a wheelchair in my group, and that made for a stressful escorting assignment.  They could not keep up with the group, and pushing a wheelchair on cobblestone streets is insane.  I had to keep a lookout for both the guide (so I wouldn't get lost) and keep an eye on the folks with the wheelchair.  Not fun!!!  The crowds were thick and it isn't even tourist season yet.  I can't imagine being here in the summer with throngs of people all vying for a place to take a picture.  

 

Our first stop was to the Il Duomo, the best known site and crowning architectural jewel of Florence.  Building was begun in 1296.  Holy guacamole this place was enormous and decorated like nothing I have ever seen.  It is so big, I could not fit it in one picture.  I'll just show you the pictures.  Inside, the place was rather sterile and modern considering the gingerbread on the outside.  Our guide spent 45 agonizing minutes telling us about everything inside.  Oh please save me; Michael's group was in and out in five minutes.  

We saw the Academy of Fine Arts, Santa Maria del Fiore church, Piazza Signoria (government offices), Ponte Vecchio (the famous bridge over the Arno River), and Santa Croce church.  I'm sure we saw more, but I disconnected my "whisper" audio device because I couldn't understand the guide.  The faster she talked, the harder it was to make out what she was saying.  My biggest disappointment was that I wasn't able to see Michelangelo's David.  There was a copy outside where the real one stood before it was moved inside to keep it from being ruined by the elements.  You need tickets well in advance to see the real one.  

  

Finally, it was time for lunch at the Hotel Brunelleschi.  Part of the hotel contains an old cylindrical tower   known as La Pagliazza (the Italian word for straw).  It derived its name from the fact that it was once a prison and inmates only had straw to sleep on.  It is the oldest standing structure in Florence.  Lunch was OK, and Michael and I didn't even get to sit with each other.  

We continued on foot and wound up at the Piazza di Santa Croce.  Michelangelo, Machiavelli and Galileo are buried in this church but we did not know this at the time because we had one hour to shop at the tourist rip-off joints.  Michael found me and we sat and watched the throngs of people.  I do not like shopping under these conditions, plus I was pooped.  

It was time to rejoin the bus, that was "only a short walk away."  Yea, right @#!@#$  Try like a mile away.  By this time, I think the wheelchair was going faster than me.  I eventually made it to the bus, the knees held up, and I am here to write about it.  Here's a hint from me:  take a private tour to really busy places.  If you don't like what the guide is saying or doing, say "time to move on."  Besides, you cannot do a place like Florence in one day.  You need a month to see inside of the buildings to see the art, the graves, etc.  

We are on to the next port.

Portofino, Italy

Michael was on a tour and I was on my own today in Portofino.  I only had the morning to explore before work; today I was on my own to run the game.  I debated getting off the ship because the past few days have been entirely exhausting.  As I have said before, being a tourist is hard work, and then you add being an escort on top of that.  A cruise enables you to see a little bit of a lot of places, so you do what you can to visit and see as much as possible in such a short time.  Plus we have to fit in work.  Feeling sorry for me yet??  LOL

Portofino is a delightful seaside village with about 800 permanent residents.  The population swells to 8,000 in season as visitors throng to this seaside resort on the Italian Riviera that had once been a fishing village.  Fishing boats called "gozzi" were anchored in the sheltered bay next to their big brothers and sisters, the mega yachts.  Surrounded by steep mountains, the journey here by boat is the preferred way to visit this village that was named for the dolphins that visited these waters in olden times.  Like most of the towns and villages on the Mediterranean Sea, the area has been occupied by one group or another for about 2,000 years.   

The ship anchored outside the bay, necessitating a tender ride to shore.  On the ride in, we could see buildings and a castle perched high upon the hills.  Turning into the bay, I saw a quaint town with brightly colored yellow, pink and orange buildings that were no more than four or five stories tall.  Insigna flag banners were strung from pole to pole around the harbor as a welcome to seafaring visitors.  Walking on cobblestone streets under grey skies, it was time to explore.

Portofino is tiny.  A stroll around the waterfront is quite enough for most visitors.  If you are feeling energetic, you can climb up to see the castle and the church, or you can take a hike.  I did the stroll.... and actually looked in some shops.  No husband around means ample time to look around without someone calling out, "aren't you done yet?"

Clothing and trinket shops were everywhere on the first floor of the buildings.  Outdoor cafes completed the rest of the promenade.  Pizza pizza pizza -- everywhere was pizza for consumption, plus a few seafood places completed the menu.  I took a side street and found a delightfully different shop that was about four feet wide but had an incredible selection of embroidered and lacy clothing items.  Since I am not buying souvenirs anymore, what harm could come to me for buying an unusual piece of clothing?  So I made my first purchase of the cruise -- one for me, and one for ....... yes you can guess who.  

Happy with my purchases, I continued my walk along the back streets and the promenade.  The skies were threastening rain, so it was time to head back to the tender for a ride back to the ship, and some pizza.

Monaco; Nice and Eze, France

Monaco is a country that covers only a three mile stretch of the Mediterranean coastline, a miniature constitutional monarchy whose entire country could fit into one half of New York's Central Park. It touches France on the west and Italy on the east.  You can hop between three countries in about 20 minutes.  If you have a foreign passport, you can enter the Monaco casino for a pitifully small sum of 10 euros (around $13US)--that's just to walk in the door!  Locals are not allowed in the casino.  Average price of a home here is $4 million.  The mountains (the Southern Alps) are packed with villas and homes built into and on the hillsides creating an incredible density -- homes are so close together you could pass the Grey Poupon.  Thus, Monaco has run out of room to expand so they have built buildings right over the roads as well as reclaimed land from the sea.

Monaco is also know for the Formula 1 Grand Prix race.  Our visit here coincides with this event; we are at anchor for three days.  People on the ship paid $1,000 for a grandstand seat to the race, with entry to the pits going for a mere $15,000 per person.  I wish I had that kind of money to burn.  Here is a description of the event:  "cars screech past designer boutiques, squeeze along starred-eateries, rocket through a darkened tunnel at warp speed, rumble across ancient byways, and literally rip the writing off the crowd controlled barricades separating the viewers from those vying for the title by little more than the length of a smoking Gauloise."  The car that gets the pole position usually wins because the streets are so narrow, that there is no room to pass.  

And one cannot forget Princess Grace, the American actress Grace Kelly, who married a prince and tragically died while driving on the Moyenne Corniche in 1982.  Ask your friends what a corniche is (hint: its a scary narrow highway on the side of a mountain).  

I had a tour to Nice and Eze, France (it is affectionally called nice and easy).  Michael had been to Eze before and raved about it, so of course, I had to check it out.  I am generally a cautious person, but also curious and sometimes I leave common sense checked at the door.  Knowing full well what I was in store for, I made my way up the mountain side on ancient narrow cobblestone steps ascending at a steep angle and with switchbacks.  It was a good thing this excursion was first.  Sometimes there were hand rails, but mostly not.  In this ancient medieval village, we passed gift shops, and restaurants and cafes.  I can't imagine how they could stay in business.  But I made it to the top and was rewarded with a magnificant view of the coastline.  The site has been inhabited since 2000 BC by a variety of conquerors, and became a part of France in 1860.

After descending at a leisurely pace, we had a refreshment stop and there was free and fast wifi!  Woo hoo, what a treat.  Unfortunately, it was the middle of the night back home so I could not FaceTime and talk to my darling Isabelle, whom I miss terribly.  We were then off to Nice.

Nice is on the French Rivera.  Driving along the middle corniche, we passed small villages crammed with houses on the hillsides.  We drove through tunnels and saw beautiful bays along the craggy coastline.  I had been to Nice on a previous trip, but we had more time to explore on this trip.  The homes are jammed together nilliwilli.  Wherever there was a patch of ground, there was a building.  The effect was a canvas of yellows and many shades of pink, overlayed with a sea of orange rooftops. To add a little splash of color, shutters were painted a light green.  Tall window balconies were accented with filigree railings.  This makes for a painter's picture perfect spot.   

The marina was filled with large yachts.  Driving along the beach promenade, Cours Saleya, we saw palm trees and blue chairs.  There were people playing on the beach, but no one was in the water.  The beaches are not sand, but pebbles.  Ouch!  The water is way too cold for swimming (70 deg) unless you are a polar bear.  We had about 45 minutes to visit the flower and fruit market, and boy was it busy.  The open air pedestrian mall went on for what seemed like 1/2 mile filled with vendors selling nothing but flowers, fruit and pastries.  Time was up, so I headed back to the bus and returned to the ship, where I spent the next two days aboard resting my knees for the upcoming visit to Florence. 

We stayed on board during day two of our visit here as this was race day and the city was virtaully closed to all but race activity.  On day three Michael ventured ashore and walked up to the palace.  He saw the royal residence, the royal gardens, the residence of the Secretary of State and the cathedral.  It was here that Prince Ranier and Princess Grace were married and it is also here that they are entombed.  Michael also pased by all the Royal museums and was able to capture some incredible photos on his way back to the ship.  

St. Tropez, France

Today, St. Tropez is the playground of the rich and beautiful set, but it wasn't always so.  During the 16th century, fishing and ship building was its primary commerce.  Protected from behind lies the Massif de Maures hills that has protected St. Tropez since time began.  It wasn't until the 19th century that St. Tropez was even accessible from the rest of Provence by road.  In the 1890's, artists discovered the beauty of this gem and the town grew into a recognized center for the arts.  During WWII, the town was destroyed, but rebuilding was slow.  Things started to pop when in 1958 Brigette Bardot filmed Et Dieu Crea la Femme -- paparazzi arrived and the rest, as they say, is history.

Neither one of us had a tour.  That was fine by me as I was resting my knees from Barcelona.  Michael went out in the morning for a walk around town, and wound up at The Citadel high above town.  He said it was a fabulous view, including the snow covered French Alps; I asked to see the pictures of what he saw, knowing full well that he forgot to bring his iPhone, which he is using for his camera.  I had to raze him about that.  

Yachts of many sizes were moored in the harbor, the largest and flashiest closest to the action.  Being former pleasure boaters, we checked out how the boats were moored.  An anchor is laid down to steady the bow and then the boat is backed into the pier.  Massive spring coils are wrapped around the stern lines for give when the wind blows.  Since all boats are stern to, almost every boat has a ramp that comes out from a secret compartment in the aft deck so you can get off the boat to the pier.  

Knowing me, I am all too curious and afraid I might miss something, so after dinner we took the tender back to shore so I could see for myself what was there.  Lots of boats, and very expensive cafes and restaurants, as well as designer shops.  A cup of coffee at a little cafe cost $6!  So we walked around looking at the beautiful people as well as the locals, and then returned to the ship.

Barcelona, Spain

Barcelona is an ancient seaport city, some 2,000 years old.  Originally founded as a Roman city, it is heir to Greek, Phoenician, Gothic and Arab cultural legacies.  It is the capital of Catalonia, a region of eastern Spain.  The central city is composed of so many different style of architecture and plazas with streets that are straight and narrow, but go off in different tangents making a newcomer wondering where the heck are we.  It is the Spain's second largest city, and is the sixth most populated urban area in the European Union after Paris, London, Madrid, the Ruhr Area and Milan.  That's one for your trivia game.  

Barcelona was the home of Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali, and Antoni Gaudi.  In case you didn't know where the word gaudy originated from, it is from the work of Antoni Gaudi, which I will describe later.  Barcelona has been described as a Mediterranean Manhattan, a cosmopolitan center for political ideas and artistic creativity.  Barcelona has inherited cultures and people from Romans to Arabs.  There are castles, bridges, aqueducts, and ancient structures that reflect the influence of invading forces through the centuries.

This is my second time to Barcelona.  The La Sagrada Familia, a Roman Catholic church designed by architect Antoni Gaudi, was closed for inside visits the first time I was here.  I really wanted to see the inside of this magnificant, but gaudy (Gaudi) church so I opted for a tour that would get me inside.  Little did I know what a treat I was in store for.  Antoni Gaudi was an architect who had a vivid imagination.  The guy was creatively brilliant or mad, or possibly both.  He had a fancy for fantasy.  His work resembles those mysterious looking castles you created as a child building sandcastles by the sea.  

Over 550 feet tall and still under construction (it was started in 1882 and is expected to be completed by 2026), it resembles a gigantic sandcastle made by dripping sand through clenched fists, drop by drop until the sandcastle reaches the sky.  There are towers, buttresses, gargoyles, and serpent-like arches.  Every sculpture depicts something important.  

Inside, the stain glass is a kaleidoscope of fascinating and vivid colors infusing the interior with much light.  The lines to get inside were very long, but being in a group got us right in.  My senses were lit up, the intense reds (my favorite) caught my eye.  All around me were people, but looking up they disappeared as I soaked in the colors of the rainbow.  Pictures do not do this place justice.   

And if that wasn't enough, we went to Park Guell, a park where Gaudi lived out his remaining years (he died in 1926 at the age of 74).  The park was originally designed to be a residental complex incorporating viaducts, water-collection systems, and footpaths for people to enjoy.  Begun in 1900, Eusebi Guell entrusted Guadi to create 60 plots for Barcelona aristocracy.  This plot of land was on a steep hillside, so building conditions made the project unviable.  Work was stopped in 1914 and the city acquired the property in 1922 as a public park.  

All I can say about this is OMG.  What an incredible place!  I loved the church, but this was something else.  Aquaducts, columns for water collection, mosiacs, gardens houses, grand staircases .... it had it all.  It looked like something Disney would have created, but Gaudi was way ahead of his time.  The monumental flight of steps had so much detail:  gargoyles, mosaics, dragons, and snakes.  And did I mention stairs, steep flights of stairs.  We started on the uphill side entrance, walking down down down.  These are some of the sights we saw:

    The aqueduct 

    House where Gaudi lived 

After our tour, I thought the bus would meet us at the downhill entrance, but I guessed wrong.  We walked back uphill taking all those steps.  I'm not sure what was worse, my knees or huffing and puffing, but it was worth it.  While riding on the bus, we toured some of the main sights of Barcelona, including Gaudi's dragon-designed house, and the seashore house.  We drove along the tree-lined pedestran boulevard Las Ramblas back to the ship.  

Michael had a wine tasting tour that took place in a citdel built in the 11th century to defend the area from Muslim invaders.  His tour also took in an overview of Barcelona and circumnavigated Montserrat mountain.  He thoroughly enjoyed his tour.