Photos from Italy - Much Later

What has come over me? I seem unable to do anything except work outdoors, all messy, sweaty, hard things like digging out creeping bellflower from the perennial beds, or scrubbing, scraping and repainting the deck, or hauling around bags of mulch.  Thing is, here in beautiful southern Wisconsin the summer season isn't all that long, and if these things do not get done fairly soon, there is really no point in doing them at all.

I'm looking at all of this as good healthy exercise, then swallowing some ibuprofen.

Anyway, these are some of my nicest photos from our April cruise.  I'm not even bothering to identify them, since all these lovely stops have run together in my memory. We visited Sardinia, Sicily, Rome and the Vatican, and Camogli and some other villages on the Italian Rivera.  It was sunny and warm, and already seems like a dream.

Considering Venice

I have been to Venice three times.  In 1972 I traveled by train with my high school girl friend Rosemary, and we visited Venice for four hours on a hot July afternoon.  I was not impressed.  The crowds were horrible, and the water filled with floating garbage.  I have no pictures.

Last year we visited by bus in chilly March with a group from UW Whitewater, and we found scant crowds, and it was cold.  But the beauty of the city disarmed me, the bridges, water, elegant facades, even the ladies dripping in furs who commanded the street in front of the Venice opera house, all took my breath away.  I still dream of a little restaurant in a back street where we paid inordinate sums of cash and were fed the best fresh seafood of my life. I took scads of photos and was beginning to fall in love.

Then we took a Mediterranean cruise this month, flying into Marco Polo airport and then boarding a huge Holland America ship.  It began and ended in Venice, and the city captured my heart forever.

Backing up a bit, specifically to 1998.  I had lost my best friend, a fine artist and teacher, to cancer, and had decided to start painting again.  It was clear to me that a long life was not a sure thing, and that there was no point in waiting until I retired to restart my art.  So I took a summer watercolor class with Amy Arntson, a fine painter, at Whitewater.  The big final class project was a still life, and I used one that included two art books in the painting, both of which belonged to the instructor.  One was Venice Sketchbook, by Huck Scarrey.  Two years ago I bought a copy of this slim volume of watercolor and pen and ink sketches for myself, and I revisited it before our trip to Venice this month.

Scarrey has clearly lived in Venice, seen its tourist attractions, but also its back streets and islands.  He has been there all times of year, all weather.  I love his sketches, the quick and the complete, and reading the book before we arrived helped me decide what to look for, and reading it afterward reminds me of what I've already seen myself, and makes me want to return to see more.

I have real difficulty in drawing and sketching en plein air, especially when time is short, and there are other people's schedules to consider.  But I take my camera with me everywhere, and I was interested to see that my photos conform to Scarrey's divisions in his book. Perhaps I can use my personal photos to create a sketchbook of my own, although created at home and after the fact.

Here are some of Scarrey's chapter headings, and my photos that fit each category.

CANALS: Canals are the streets for vehicles (boats) in Venice, and the Grand Canal is the main street.  The canals are busy with all manner of boats - water taxis, vaporettos, fishing boats, cruise ships, all use the canals.  But the areas where people walk are free of traditional vehicles, which contributes to a sort of quiet that I like very much.

BRIDGES: There are hundreds, including the famous Bridge of Sighs, which is still swaddled in plastic for renovation.  This photo is of the famous Rialto Bridge.

FACADES: The old buildings of Venice are build in the water, not just next to it, a fact that always amazes me. The warm Mediterranean colors, the Moorish windows, the extravagant chimney pots, all are worth considering.

SAINT MARK'S SQUARE:  This is what everyone comes to see, the Basilica di San Marco, with it's fantastic pillars and domes, tiles and mosaics.  It is the heart of Venice, and these days while there are still legions of pigeons, there are even more people.  Still, I catch my breath a little every time I see it and the famous bell tower across the plaza. I took this photo through the glass of the observation lounge of the Niew Amsterdam, our cruise ship.  It gave me a very different perspective than I had from standing at ground level.

MASKS:  When we visited in March last year it was just after carnival, and I found myself taking photo after photo of masks in shop windows.  This time I didn't as much, so the photograph is from last year's trip. I sometimes dream about having a gorgeous mask, and a heavy hooded cloak to wear to Halloween events in chilly Wisconsin. Not this year, though.

ISLANDS: As we flew into Marco Polo airport this year I could see that Venice has many many islands, many connected by canals.  But there are large islands that can only be reached by boat.  Last year we visited two of them, Murano, where famous glass factories still operate, and Burano, a fishing village that also is the home of world-famous lace makers. I love Burano best for the brightly colored houses, many with laundry hanging out the windows to dry.

Scarrey also has other chapters about the seasons in Venice, and of the many docks and boats of the area, though I don't have many pictures that correspond to those areas.  I know that nearly everyone who paints eventually paints scenes like these I've posted here, because they are beautiful.  I will paint them as well, though probably for my private sketchbooks, more as a way of reliving the experience than with any though of offering the results for anything public.

Wrapping Up - Murano and Burano

Master glassblower at a Murano glass factory and showroom

I could have spent a week exploring Venice, but there are many other islands that have much to see as well.  Our group took a water bus to two famous island communities, Murano and Burano.

I remember when my grandparents went to Italy, back when I was in college.  They brought back a pretty pair of cameo earrings that I still treasure, and some art glass that didn't appeal to me as much.  The glass came from Murano, an island in the Venetian lagoon, where all the glassblowers were sent to prevent fires, and to preserve their technology secrets.  Murano is home to several glass factories and museums, where they make everything from paperweights, to chandeliers, to large art glass sculptures.  We visited one factory and were treated to a demonstration of glassblowing.

It was a cold and blustery Sunday, but the friendly patter of these artisans and the roaring kilns, warmed both body and soul.  I think they imagined we would be shipping home large purchases of art glass or hand-blown glassware, but the group headed for the souvenir shop after a serious case of sticker shock.  I bought a millefiori paper weight, and was well satisfied.

After Murano we re-boarded the water bus and headed to the fishing village of Burano, on another island in the lagoon.  Burano is famous for two things, picturesque houses painted in bright colors, and an ancient tradition of lace making.  The group had an hour or so to wander around, perhaps do some shopping or get something hot to drink.  One shop in particular had a lace showroom with beautiful clothing and lace table linens.  We were told that the fine hand work here was very famous, and that two or three woman could work more than a year to produce one large table cloth.

Upstairs in the shop was a little museum with old photographs and examples of lace work, including the restored wedding dress seen here.

After visiting Burano, we headed back to Venice.  Dick and I spent the afternoon finding some lunch, and wandering the winding streets of the city.  In the evening we had a farewell dinner for the whole group at the hotel, and then we all returned to pack for home.  We had to leave the hotels at 5:00 am in order to get to the airport, fly to Rome, transfer to our Alitalia flight, and return to Chicago.  I don't remember much about that morning except the water taxi ride on the chilly and moonlit Grand Canal; it was like a dream.

It was a wonderful trip, exhausting, exhilarating, as travel is.  The people were congenial, the guides well informed and kind, the food and scenery outstanding, and I have enough photos from which to sketch and paint to keep me busy for ages.

The question here in Janesville is, now that we have had time to get over our jet lag and look at the photos better, where to next?

Venice, Part One

View from the water taxi stand outside the hotel.  A moment later a kayak sped into the shot.

The last city on our Italian tour was Venice.  I had visited Venice in 1972 with my friend Rosemary, but on a hot and crowded summer day, and only for four hours.  This time our group stayed in two sister hotels just steps from the Bascilica de San Marco, and we had a couple days.  While the Florence hotel room was spartan and noisy, this room, at the Dona Palace Hotel, was large, comfortable and quiet. Best of all it was easy to find in a city that is a maze of winding streets, bridges, and dead ends.

Side view of San Marco

I think it would be very hard to be bored in Venice, with all the churches, shops, restaurants, and museums in a small area.  It would not be hard to go broke, however.  Hotels, food, souvenirs, are all expensive in Venice, so it's probably good we didn't stay longer.  I had been warned that the popular tourist areas are filled with beggars and pickpockets, but nobody in our group had no difficulties with that; perhaps it was a little early in the tourist season.

Entry stairway to the Doge's Palace.  Photographs are not permitted inside.

After we settled into our hotels, the group had tours of Saint Mark's Cathedral and the Doge's Palace.  San Marco is free, though tourists are confined to a specific pathway, and hustled along quickly.  I had not seen the Doge's Palace before, since in 1972 my friend and I only did things that were free.  This time we had a good guide, and each of us had little ear-speakers that broadcast her explanations as we went along.  It made hearing easy, and kept the overall noise level inside the rooms, the Bridge of Sighs, and prison, down to a civilized level.

Fresh seafood in a restaurant window 

It was too cold for gelato, but I couldn't resist photographing the shop window.

We were free in the evening to find a restaurant on our own.  There are many, and close to San Marco and the Grand Canal there are plenty of set price "tourist menu" options.  We had a good, if not outstanding meal at one the first night.  The next day at lunch we ventured out farther from the main tourist areas for lunch, and had one of the best, and priciest, meals I can ever remember eating.  It was spaghetti studding with fresh calamari, mussels, clams, and giant prawns, and I feel happy and satisfied just thinking about it.   It was small, warm, and filled with big groups of people speaking Italian - we didn't hear any English at all.  There was a farewell dinner the same night that I cannot even recall, out-shown as it was by that delicious lunch.

Carnival masks in a shop window.

Masks and a marionette

I didn't do a lot of souvenir shopping, no shirts, or masks, though I window-shopped all the time.  I also went into a small art supply shop that had a nice supply of brushes, papers, and all the familiar watercolor paints, including Maimeri, an Italian brand.  I did buy a small package of beautiful hand- marbled papers.  We'll see if I have the heart to cut them up for collages.

More Tuscany - Wine, Siena

Cecchi family estate, Villa Cerna, surrounded by olive trees, grape vines, umbrella pines and cypress trees.

Besides visiting Pisa, our group visited a Tuscan vineyard.  The Cecchi family produces Chianti Classico, about eight million bottles a year.  This part of Italy reminds me a little of California, with its rolling hills and vineyards around every bend.  This early in the season things are quiet in the vineyard, and  our warm and well-informed guide told us the history of the place, and showed us how the wine is produced.

After we saw how the wine is made we were treated to a tasting session, which included some very fine wine, bread, and salami.  Later in the day some of our group bought wine to bring home, though we did not.  I wasn't sure the bottles would travel well in luggage, and would certainly add extra weight.  Villa Cerna Chianti Classico is available in the United States, at any rate.

Our final stop of the day was in the ancient walled city of Siena.  Like Florence and Pisa, Siena is a World Heritage Site.  As before, our bus parked quite far from the old walled part of the city, and we were shuttled in.  We had to take a series of escalators to the upper city level, which I appreciated, since was getting tired.  The weather got colder and damper, and the wind was fierce.  Our guide, recognizing our discomfort, sent us out to find some lunch (we had lovely bread soup), and then we regrouped in a sheltered area near the Piazza del Campo, where popular and historic horse races are held twice a year.

While I was interested enough in stories of the horse races, and explanations about the architecture of the cathedral, what interested me as much was the color of the soil, a pale yellow.  The earth pigments used to make artist colors raw sienna and burnt sienna were originally mined in this area, and now I will always associate them with this pretty city.

Heading Out - Pisa

We signed up for an optional bus trip that took us out into the Tuscan countryside, where despite the gloomy weather, the fields had already turned emerald green, and spring cool weather vegetables were sprouting in people's gardens.  The excursion made for a full day, a visit to a vineyard, and to two important Tuscan cities, Pisa and Siena.  I'll concentrate on Pisa.

The bus wasn't allowed near the old part of Pisa, where the cathedral, baptistry and famous leaning bell tower are, so we parted in a remote lot and took a shutter bus to the site.  Outside the old walls of the city there is a gauntlet of souvenir stands, African immigrants hawking umbrellas, and even a McDonalds, but inside the walls was fascinating.  Our guide gave us a good overview of the city's history, and also lots of information about the buildings you see behind her in this photo.  The leaning tower is interesting on its own, but we were also interested in the mosaics, sculptures and alabaster windows in the cathedral, and the wonderful acoustics in the baptistry.

Details of gargoyle on the cathedral exterior, and tiled mosaics inside.

Dick, before he decided to climb up into the leaning tower.  Its pricey to do this, 20 Euros, so I felt OK about shopping for a souvenir Pinocchio while he was occupied. The author of the famous children's book lived nearby.

We had some time to find lunch, and this is the little trattoria where we warmed up and ordered a pizza.  It was delicious, prepared in a wood-burning oven.  What was interesting to me was that the ingredients were not all mixed together, but the olives, ham, and mushrooms were arranged separately in a design on the top of the pie.

A final comment on traveling, eating and drinking in Italy.  Our experience was that public toilets are few and far between.  When they are available, they are staffed by a matron who expects a tip.  This means that the only reliable way to find facilities is to go into a trattoria, pay for food or drink, and then use theirs.  This may account for why people drink tiny cups of espresso.  There's lots of kick and not too much liquid.

More of Florence, Sacred and Profane

Dick, ahead of me, walking toward the city center

Back in 1972, when I was still an undergraduate, my high school friend Rosemary and I backpacked through Europe, with a copy of Frommer's Europe on Five Dollars a Day in hand.  The trip lasted six weeks, and we economized every way possible, including sleeping overnight on trains, eating out of markets and grocery stores, and tagging along for free on tours of attractions.  We almost never bought tickets for anything.  As we visited placed we ripped out the chapters and threw them away to lighten the loads we carried on our backs.  One of the things I remember from that trip was cats in Italy, everywhere.  In Florence I remember looking out the window of our pension room and seeing cats walking on red tile rooftops.

Us, standing near a replica of David outside the Signoria. The original, damaged in Michelangelo's day, is elsewhere.

So, for years I wanted to return to Florence and sleep comfortably, eat in restaurants, and visit museums that charge admission.  I wanted to show Dick the cats.  While we had a hotel in which to stay, I can't say I slept much.  The window, with its view of the old wall and charming shutters, was also near a busy highway with lots of loud scooters and trucks rumbling by.  Not even a sleep aid in pill form helped much.  We had fun choosing restaurants and trattorias, and one night we did get an inexpensive bottle of wine and sandwiches from a market.  We visited the Uffizi and the Academy with Michelangelo's original nine foot tall David. But the cats were nowhere to be seen.  I asked our bubbly Florentine guide, Francesca, where they went, and with a sly grim she said that Chinese immigrants took care of the cats.  She was kidding.  It turns out that Italy has a no-kill policy for stray cats and dogs, and most of the felines were being fed in the Boboli Gardens, abd a large cemetery.

Florence is an interesting mix of profane and sacred.  It is a place to shop, if you want gold jewelry, fashion, or leather goods.  You can eat and drink very well indeed here, and if its warm enough to want something cool, gorgeous piles of fruit-studded gelato are for sale on almost every block.  Their hot chocolate is rich and expensive, and was popular with our group, especially since most of us were chilled by the unseasonable weather.

Santa Maria del Fiore (Saint Mary of the Flowers)

I am old enough to remember the devastating flood in 1966, the one that damaged thousands of art treasures, including the famous Baptistry doors.  Much of what people go to Florence to see is sacred in nature.  The cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore with its famous dome and the nearby Baptistry are high on the must-see list.  When Rosemary and I saw the doors they were damaged by the flood.  Today they have been restored, and are in a museum.  Replicas of the Doors of Paradise are there now, though I think it would be hard for anyone to tell the difference.  We got a ticket to go inside, and I was amazed by all the mosaic work, from marble tiled floors in Moorish designs, to gold glass mosaics on the walls, depicting heaven and hell.

The Baptistry ceiling -  click on this photo to see the mosaic angels in more detail.

We also toured the Gothic cathedral, and Dick, who had read books about how the dome was built, climbed to the top while I cooled my heels inside.  If we had more time I would have liked to see some of the other churches as well, but I was happy to see these attractions.

Italy Trip Report - Part One

Old gate to Florence, right next to our hotel.

We've been home from our tour with the UW Whitewater Alumni Association for a week, and both my energy and my ankles are back to normal.  I thought I'd share some of the highlights with people who read this blog, along with some of my reactions to traveling with a group.

In general, Dick and I are not people who take tours.  We've traveled to the UK a dozen times, designed our own itineraries, rented cars, found our way around.  Of course language is no problem in England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland.  So now that we are branching out into countries whose language we do not speak (apart from please, thank you, excuse me, and check please), we've let others do the planning and hire the guides.  Pilgrim Tours is the operator Whitewater uses for their alumni trips, and they do a good job.  Once people take these trips, they often return.  We knew several people from last year's trip to Peru on this tour, and that was nice.   Our only concern was that this group was twice as large as the group who went to Peru, sixty people.

On March first we joined the group at the university and took a bus to Chicago to board our Alitalia flight to Rome.  It all went smoothly, no delays, no screaming babies, decent food.  Of course we were packed like anchovies in a can, but that is air travel in the economy class.  After nine hours of flying we landed in Rome, where the sun was shining and the weather was balmy.  We transferred for our flight to Florence, then hit the first snag.  The captain apologized in his Italian accent, but our plan had damage to the fuselage, and we were being taken back to the terminal until another plane could be brought for us.  In short, we arrived in Florence a couple hours later than we anticipated, which wouldn't have mattered, except by this time we had been awake almost 24 hours.  It was past bed time.

View from our hotel window

Somehow it was Tuesday, the day we were supposed to rest up, and have our welcome to Florence dinner. We booked into our hotel near the old Roman wall, a former convent named Convitto della Calza. Our tiny room was on the top floor,  overlooking the old stone fortification.  The hotel looks like the convent it once was, with pillared arcades, religious statues in the center courtyard, and a restaurant with a replica of The Last Supper, full-sized, on the wall. We didn't have long to think about crashing though, because before we left Janesville we made reservations to see the Uffizi Gallery.  This treasure was not part of our package, and we were not sure we would see it if we didn't go right away.

Cherry blossoms near the entrance to the Boboli Gardens

One excellent thing about our hotel was its proximity to many of the attractions of Florence.  We had less than a mile to walk to the Pitti Palace, Ponte Vecchio, Piazza della Signoria, and the Uffizi.  So, dizzy with fatigue, we headed out for our first views of the birthplace of the Renaissance.

Bronze boar in the Mercato Centrale.  Rub his nose and drop a coin for good luck and a return trip.

The weather in Florence was overcast and cool, not so spring-like as the Rome airport had been.  We had been checking the weather for weeks, and it was always about 20 degree warmer there, but it changed when we arrived.  We found ourselves piling on multiple tee shirts, and donning our weather-proof jackets.

We had no problems finding the Uffizi, getting our reserved tickets and entering the beautiful former Medici palace.  I was grateful that I had read about the paintings ahead of time, and delighted to see paintings and sculptures by Giotto, Botticelli, Durer, Michelangelo, Titian and Rembrandt.  The huge Birth of Venus and Primavera in the Botticelli room were especially memorable, and I was surprised to see the figures were at least life-sized.  My other reaction was that illustrations of these famous paintings I had studied in books were much brighter than the actual canvases.  We were delighted to discover an outdoor patio where coffee is served, with a view of the famous duomo dome by Fillipo Brunelleschi.  But lack of sleep was hurrying us along, and we returned to our cramped quarters to rest before our get-acquainted dinner.

View of the Ponte Veccho over the Arno River, from the Uffizi Gallery