Approaching Mt Etna

The time spent at the beach in Cefalu was great.  After being confronted by Palermo, it had been a lovely respite and chance to calm down.  We were now well and truly into the second half of our trip which would be focused more on a slow relaxation.  I hired a driver to take us to our next location on the East coast of the island.  Had we had a bit more time, I think I would have liked to have hired a car myself and driven around the island, but given we weren't going to be moving too much and we wouldn't be finishing at the same spot, it seemed to make more sense to only get the car when it was needed.

The drive took us through the middle of the island.  The journey seemed to take less than two hours, and in that time I saw the landscape change dramatically.  It was an interesting journey that took us from the dry and at times almost desolate parts of the Northern part of the island, through the centre and towards more lush and fertile areas towards the East.  At the start, I couldn't help but think of back home in Australia.  There was a harshness to the landscape and a colour palette that seemed ripped from a pastoral image in country NSW.  This was an island with an incredible history as well.  For such a short journey by car, it seemed to belie the struggles and pains of those who had come and fought through these lands in the past.  Recently, this was of course the first location of the Allied reinvasion of Europe during World War II, as Patton and Montgomery both raced up through the island.  Going back far more years, this was the location of the failed Athenian Sicilian Expedition.  One of the turning points in history as the finest of Athens died or were sold into slavery after they unsuccessfully tried to take the island.  The suffering of those men would have been immense as they struggled through the valleys and the gaps between the imposing hills and mountains.  Yet now, we were able to glide effortlessly from one side to the other in a morning.

Since the drive wasn't too long, I thought it made sense for us to use the opportunity to visit a winery on the slopes of Mt Etna.  Our driver had helped us to arrange a scenic spot for both lunch and a tasting.  We reached the city of Catania and looped past on our way up to Mt Etna.  The road started the very slow climb up, and we could soon see the various vineyards that sat on the slopes.  The car entered into a region that seemed to be almost exclusively vineyards and wineries.  The car turned down a small road and led us to the vineyard.  Through the old stone walls, we walked through into a beautiful open area shaded by trees and overlooking the rows of vines.

It was a breathtakingly beautiful scene.  I struggled to think of the right word to describe it all.  Pastoral?  Bucolic?  Neither of those terms seemed to fit.  It was a scene of refined elegance.  It was a highly curated natural beauty, but it was lovely.  Walking into the breezy open area, I felt this sense of relaxation and calm.  We were led to our table underneath the shade.  We were being served a tasting menu paired with wines grown in the vineyards we were sitting opposite.  As the food came, we sat deeper into our chairs.  It was simple food that was cooked delicately with produce from the area.  Eggs, dairy and seafood, all served of course with various pasta dishes.  With each dish, a wine was paired.  For all our happiness with our situation, we looked at one another a bit with each wine.  There was no other way of describing them, except as not good!  I thought I would give them some time to breath a bit more before making my final judgment.  It didn't work, more time seemed to make the wines worse.  There was a sour sharpness to them.  It had been something we had noticed since arriving in Sicily, and I would be educated more later by sommelier and wine merchant friends that the myth of the great Sicilian wines was limited to the truly exceptional wineries.  For all others, it was apparently best to stay away. 

It was all fine though and it was nothing to be complained about.  Just another interesting quirk and experience of travel.  We both sat comfortably and satisfied with where we were.  The sun was up, and we could feel the warmth in the air, along with the cool wind that blew across.  Looking out from our table, there were the usual couples like ourselves, but also some large families who seemed to making their grand tour of Italy together.  Maybe it was a return to an ancestral home, an attempt to connect with the past?

Well fed and full of wine, we found the driver and got back in the car.  The final drive to the hotel was short but scenic.  We were winding along small streets and seemingly innumerous small towns that surrounded the slopes of Mt Etna.  Our driver lived in the area and explained the lifestyle of the area to us, the family life and the lovely benefit of having access to such fertile soils for their personal gardens.  The road became steeper and we began to climb.  Not too far away, we could see small towns that dotted the tops of the hills and high points.  One of these was our next stop, Taormina. 

We arrived in front of the grand old hotel.  We checked in quickly, and I immediately took Veronica with me down through the hotel garden to the pool with the spectacular view.  Perched out at the very end of a cliff, it had a commanding view that looked out towards the ocean.  I jumped straight into the water, wading up and down gazing back and forth towards both the sea and the mountain.  This would be a good place to spend the next few days.

Ferragosto in Cefalu

I had been a little bit concerned about the timing of the holiday.  I had booked the trip for the middle of August, which hits not only the tourist high season, but also the mid year public holiday in Italy called "Ferragosto".  This holiday dated back to ancient times and was the mid way mark of holidays for most local Italians.  So not only would we be competing with the foreign crowds, we would very likely be competing with the local Italian crowds as well as some potential holiday closures.  I hadn't taken any of this into consideration when I had booked the trip, so as the big day approached I was wondered whether there would be any negative impacts for us.

On the night before, we left Palermo and boarded a train for the beach town of Cefalu.

It was a very full train.

A train that became progressively more full the further we went.  This wasn't an express train between towns, this was a commuter train that seemed to be doing the milk run between Palermo and Messina.  There weren't any other options though, so short of hiring a driver to take us, this seemed to be the only way to go.  We were fortunate enough to get seats, but we also had all of our luggage with us.  At every stop coming out of Palermo, more people boarded the train.  It wasn't long before there was almost no space left at all, with people crammed into the aisle and standing shoulder to shoulder in the doorways.  These trains have a reputation for pickpockets and theft, so I kept a keen eye on our bags.  Luckily, others were also in similar situations to us and seemed to be just as mindful.  The trip wasn't long, less than an hour, but with the constant stopping it felt far longer.  When we arrived, we wheeled our bags the short distance to the hotel. We quickly got changed into our swimwear and headed towards the old town and the beach.

The old town of Cefalu is a lovely place.  It felt every bit the Mediterranean resort town.  The streets were compact and narrow, with the historic old buildings lining all the lanes to give it an intimate and welcoming feel.  The tourist trade had been very kind to this town and everything seemed exceptionally well maintained.  Everything was neat and tidy, all the shops and buildings were all immaculately restored.

The town itself was very small and we soon arrived at the beach.  It was a lovely Mediterranean beach.  The water was beautifully calm and the sand was covered in the umbrellas of the beach clubs.  We walked along the entire boardwalk.  It stretched towards the very end of the town.

We ducked back into the old town itself and visited the old wash house and the incredible doorway which opened up to the small beach and harbour next to the town.  It was all visually stunning.  We looped back into the town again and found small galleries and a place to eat.

Satisfied with our exploration of the town itself, we went back to the beach.  The town really was very small.  I was enjoying our explorations, but I was also glad I didn't commit too much of our time to this place.  A day or two seemed more than enough to get most of the sights and to enjoy much of what the town had to offer.  With its close proximity to Palermo, it also seemed completely inundated with day trippers and so it also didn't seem to be the best place to linger for too long in search of relaxation.  I hadn't been in Sicily too long, but I already felt there would be better more far off places that would offer better options for that sort of respite.  Back at the beach, we wandered along the boardwalk again in search of some spots at a beach club.  Several were already full, but the hosts were helpful in pointing us towards other clubs that may be more accommodating.  We eventually found a spot about half way down the beach.  It wasn't as close to the main part of the old town as we would have liked, but it did instead give us a far more impressive panoramic view of the entire town in the shadow of the "rock".

On the beach, we found our chairs and enjoyed the beautiful day.  The sun was shining.  The weather was warm.  The water was wonderfully cooling.  Families sat near us chatting and playing games.  Other couples lay next to one another holding hands and sleeping.  We ordered some food and drinks and embraced our surroundings.

Our initial disappointment at not being closer to the main part of the old town also quickly disappeared as we discovered that we were at the part of the beach which had a long sandbank.  We were able to walk along the sandbank out several hundred metres into the middle of the ocean.  I went out several times, jumping in and out of the water and looking back at the picturesque town.  After a few more trips in and out, I grabbed my phone and walked further out again.  I stood back with Veronica and we took photos of this surreal location, being so far out in the middle of the water.  The water itself was also incredibly clear.  We had been lucky the last few years with our travel and we had seen the blue of the Mediterranean in different places, each time uniquely striking in its colour.  This time, I was amazed by the clarity of the water.  It was like a shimmering glass, so perfectly clear that I could see our feet clearly even as the water lapped at our shoulders.

We went back to the hotel for a brief rest.  The beach had been very enjoyable but the heat had been tiring.  We napped in our room before getting ready to go out again.  It was dark and the intense heat of the day was gone, but it was still comfortably warm.  We walked back towards the old town to find a place for dinner.  The town had been completely transformed for the evening.  With Ferragosto, there were lights and decorations everywhere.  

This was a happy period for the Italians.  A time of rest and celebration that traced its time back to the Roman era.  Each street had been adorned with the bright lights for the festivities and it gave the entire town a joyous carnival like feel.  It was late, but everything was open.  The streets were full of happy people enjoying the lovely evening.  The cafes were full.  The stores open for business.  It was an incredible feeling to be surrounded by the revelry and the happiness was infectious.  We walked down the main street and bought arancini to snack on as we looked for something more substantial.  Each of the arrancino was hand made to order and immediately cooked in front of us.  They were crispy and hot on the outside, hot and soft on the inside.  It was a warm and satisfying feeling to eat them as we sat on the side of the street watching the laughing crowds go by. 

We walked further down the edge of the water and found a restaurant by the sea.  We sat outside on the terrace and ate dinner.  It was a large restaurant, but the inside was empty.  The true attraction was outside and everyone was seated out on the lovely terrace facing the ocean.  On the one side we could hear the waves of the ocean, on the other side we could hear the distant sounds of crowds and parties. Along the coast, there were other restaurants, all with their terraces full of diners.  After dinner, we headed back into the town.  The parties were starting there was music everywhere.  We walked around the harbour, admiring the scene and soaking up the incredible atmosphere.  Everyone had warned me about Ferragosto.  Too crowded.  Everything closed.  I couldn't disagree more with all the advice on this.  This was a wonderful time to be in Italy.   

Palermo

We arrived mid afternoon in Palermo.  The aiport was outside of the city and the drive in was about 45 minutes.  It wasn't exactly scenic, with the most of the surroundings being low rise buildings and a very dry landscape.  There were some impressive geological formations that seemed to rise out of the ground that reminded me a bit of some places I had visited in the Middle East.  When we arrived at the hotel, we were confronted by an incredibly strong smell of room deodoriser.  It was candy sweet and seemed to get into everything.  The room was otherwise spotless though.  We left out things and immediately headed out to explore the city.

We had booked our hotel in the middle of the old city and so we started walking towards the famed street market of La Vucciria.  Along the way, we walked past a street that was decorated with lights and love hearts.  I immediately thought back to the Spanish Quarter of Napoli.  Would this be a similarly vibrant city full of life and joy?

We sat down in the market.  It was busy and full of tourists.  It had a semblance of being a working market, with fish stalls selling their goods, but the restaurants lining the lanes seemed to indicate that the tourist dollar was far more important.  We were still able to get a good meal, with our first plate of the hearty pasta alla norma and a fresh platter of frito misto.  It was simple food, but cooked well and with ingredients that sang with the flavour of the region.

The next couple of days were spent wandering the streets of the old town of Palermo.  It is an enormous area and claims to be the largest "old town" in Europe.  There were several large intersecting streets which seemed to be the centre of the touristed old town, with other parts being far less populated or visited.  It didn't quite feel like we were in Italy anymore.  There was a more decrepit feeling to everything that once again reminded me of Napoli.  It was a similar feeling of lost grandeur, but without the same grit that Napoli had.  The heat seemed to take an edge off everything and beat down on these old buildings.

We tried to find the famous places to visit in the city.  We stood in the middle of Quattro Canti and looked up and around at the statues that were arrayed at each of the four corners.  All around were the streets full of small shops selling gelato, granitas, cannoli and knickknacks.  Further along, was Palermo Cathedral.  Inside there was nothing particularly memorable about the large cathedral, but with a purchase of a ticket you had the opportunity to delve deep into the recesses of the crypt along with go to the very top to walk along the roof.  Both of these places were well worth the cost of the admission.  From the top of the cathedral we looked out far and wide across the city.  There didn't really seem to be a modern CBD.  There was the old town and then the more modern built up buildings that spread out far into the distance.

Further along still was the Norman Palace.  The building a is a strange mismatch of times, styles and designs.  Parts of the building are now a museum and other parts seem to continue to operate as the local government chambers.  We walked through some of the galleries, but what we were really interested in was the "Capella Palatina" (the Palatine Chapel).  Deep in the middle of the palace was this old church built by the famous Roger the Great of Sicily.  Compared to other churches we had seen in Italy, this place was exceptionally old, having been built during the twelfth century.  This was a building created during the middle of the Crusades, far older than the usual renaissance fare we were used to in other places.  Like our visit to Arezzo, we were instead walking through something that was very much from the Middle Ages.  After several trips across Europe and having seen some beautiful cathedrals everywhere, there is definitely a fatigue that begins to creep in.  What was once unique and spectacular becomes lost in the crowd of other similarly beautiful places.  This Capella Palatina was uniquely memorable and beautiful.  It was built by both craftsman from both the Greek and Islamic world, so it was a blending of cultures and styles that I hadn't see since my backpacking days in Syria.  The intricate beauty of the roof matched in a strange contrast with the ornate Byzantine mosaics.  I couldn't help but think back to the stunning Ummayad Mosque in Damascus.  King Roger had ruled over a cosmopolitan kingdom, full of people and cultures from the entire region.  It was a melting pot of people and this lovely place was the reminder of the wonder that could be achieved with such a blending of ideas. 

After enjoying the beauty of the Capella Palatina, we made our way back towards the middle of the old town.  We had found an old church and nunnery during our initial exploration, but what we wanted to experience was the dolceria that was inside.  It had been closing when we first visited and so we arranged our exploration to circle back another day when it was open.  On the inside was a bakery run by the nuns to raise money for their work.  People lined up for the various sweets, but what was the clear standout were the cannoli.  Each was made to order, with the option to select the toppings to go on each end.

It was my first cannolo in Sicily.  I went for chocolate and pistachio.  Veronica of course asked for everything.  I bit into it and it was immediately clear that it was the best I had ever eaten.  The shell was crunch and crisp.  There was no soggy or chewy texture to it.  The ricotta was intense and thick.  It seemed to be everything a cannolo was meant to be, unlike the sad imitations I had eaten over the years.   

We explored out further outside of the old city.  We walked out towards the harbour and to see the coastline.  It was far more industrial than I expected.  There seemed to be areas that had been built up around a boat marina, but for the most part it seemed to be more catered towards commerce than anything else.  We kept walking around the whole area, stopping to admire the famous mural of Falcone and Borsellino, the two great men who died trying to fight the mafia in Sicily.  The further we got from the marina and from the old town, the more degraded the city felt.  The old town didn't feel particularly well kept to begin with, so there was a real feeling of urban decay in these further outlying areas.

We looped back and headed towards the old town areas again.  It was the peak of the tourist season, so the streets were filled with tourists and with the accompanying touts and shops.  We wandered up and down the streets, but there was little that appealed to us.  Veronica found a few of the smaller shops that had some of the jewelry that she liked, but on the whole the shops were selling the standard tourist knickknacks that we weren't looking for.

Something about Palermo seemed to be lacking.  I couldn't put my finger on it entirely, but there was certainly none of the joy that I had experienced in Napoli.  There were deep similarities in the look and feel of the locations, but it seemed that culturally they could not have been further apart.  There were still great locations to visit.  There was the old and the ancient in this city.  There was a run down grandeur and splendour to the place.  Yet, the people seemed more sad.  There was a weight on the shoulders of the people.  We tried to look for more of the happier locations to enjoy ourselves.  We found great food and we found good music, but the feelings still lingered.

As we boarded our train to leave Palermo, I felt very conflicted.  There were very interesting things to see in this city and a truly unique culture different to any other place I had been in Italy.  Yet there was a sadness and trouble that seemed to linger wherever we went.  The poverty of this city was clear.  It was the height of the tourist season and yet there still seemed to be a lack of activity and opportunity in the city.  Infrastructure seemed to be crumbling along with the old buildings.  It was a city, like many in Italy, that had seen better days.  Yet unlike other parts, there didn't seem to be a joyful irreverence to contrast with this.  Instead it seemed that the depression in opportunity seeped into the mindset of the people at large.  It cut into any of the good experiences we had, and I felt guilty for it.  How can you let go and embrace any happiness when you feel such strong sadness around you?  This city was still full of beauty and a rich history, but it seemed to be a trapped in malaise of poverty and stagnation.

Venetian experiences

I had fallen in love again.

Venice is a city that attracts so much criticism, for how crowded it is, for its prices, for the sheer number of tourists everywhere.  Yet none of that mattered to me.  I was in one of the most incredible cities in the world and I was completely enamoured.  This city was incomparable with anywhere I had been before.  There was beauty around every corner in this city.  Each street, each bridge was a scene of unique visual splendour.  The combination of the buildings with the water and colours was something truly unique.  I had seen pictures before.  I had seen films before.   But none of it seemed to properly capture this lovely combination.  Each time I looked out, it seemed like the city was floating on sheets of glass. 

After walking through the city over the last few days, I also started to realise how much more the city had to offer beyond its striking facade.  Veronica and I had something that most other travellers to this place didn't have, the luxury of time.  Instead of only having a brief few hours to marvel at the city, we were able to enjoy everything at a slower and more deliberate rate.  There was no rush for us and we didn't feel at all compelled to race from location to location.  Even with this extra time, we didn't see everything we wanted to, that would take a far longer stay in this city, but we were still fortunate enough to be able to use a far more relaxed approach to enjoy everything the city had to offer.

So with that time, we sat down, we lingered and we embraced as much of the Venetian culture as we could.  Being able to stay overnight in Venice was also far more of a luxury than we could have imagined.  There has been a lot of talk about the incoming tourist tax for visiting Venice.  It seemed to add to the "Disney" claims of the city, but the more time I spent in this place the more I understood its rationale.  For many, a visit to Venice seems to have become nothing more than a quick stop on a longer tour.  Many visitors often stay outside of the city and day trip in, or in other cases they may pass by on large cruise ships to visit the city only for the day.  In both of these cases, the actual benefit for the city of Venice seems limited at best, and potentially detrimental at worst.  The visitors who come into Venice for such short trips often spend little.  However, the city services are still used and the crowds were impressive in their number, creating an expected burden on the city's ability to function and operate.  In the most extreme and famous of these cases, the cruise ship visitors may even have a packed lunch provided to them when they visit, meaning their entire trip into the lovely city is one which leaves no positive outcomes for the city, and only the drag of the additional burden on the city's resources.  I don't think about this from too critical a lens.  I understand it entirely, and I myself used to travel of a far more restricted budget.  Everyone should travel if they can, and if this is the way to allow for that travel to occur, who am I to begrudge them for their attempts to see more of the world?  On the other hand though, the city still needs to thrive and to exist, so the inclusion of a small cost to enter the city made a great deal more sense to me.

It was something that the local Venetians seemed to be well aware of as well.  Several times, when we interacted with the service staff or the shopkeepers, we would be asked in conversation if we were "staying in the city".  When we answered that we were, there would be this noticeable change in demeanour, as they became friendlier and more engaging with us.  They would proudly proclaim that they were Venetian and that they too lived in the city.  I could understand it all.  There was of course a pride amongst the locals for their city.  A city with such a history is certainly something to be proud of.  So for them, there must have been an additional consideration of the tourists who came.  In their eyes, there must have been a difference between those whom they thought brought too little to the city, as opposed to those whom they thought gave enough to the city.  It may be a binary way of looking at it all, to think of things only from this give and take attitude.  But for me, I thought the necessary exchange that took place when visiting Venice for a longer period was well worth it.  The more we gave, the more the city seemed to give back to us. 

I thought about the high cost of staying in the city overnight.  The hotels were extremely expensive, and though they had an old world charm, they were not modern and they were far from being even close to the best hotels I had stayed at.  Some of the rooms and hallways in the hotels seemed to be closer to antique than boutique in the worst sense of the word.  And yet, staying in the city meant that I got to experience the evenings in Venice.  During the hours starting from late afternoon, early evening, the city of Venice seemed to transform itself.  As people began to return to their accommodation out of the city or back on the cruise ship, a sense of calm descended.  The hectic bustle of the city disappeared and was replaced by a calm and relaxed atmosphere.  The spaces opened up, and the noise disappeared.  This was the Venice that people dreamed about.  The Venice that people seemed to think about wistfully as opposed to the heat oppressed days filled with crowded streets.

We took some care to look for some different places to eat whilst we stayed in the city.  Given the extra time we had, there was no need for us to eat at the most conveniently located places which seemed to offer the most stereotypical of Italian fare.  On our very first day, we found ourselves in a small secluded restaurant to the side of the fish market.  We had been late to look for a spot for lunch and so our options had been limited.  We had walked into the restaurant late and been lucky to be seated just before the kitchen closed for the afternoon.  The waiter was well dressed and the table settings were immaculate.  The food was well presented, Italian seafood dishes that seemed lighter than comparable versions I had eaten before.  We chatted a bit with the waiter and after the standard enquiries about whether we were staying in the city, he quickly directed us to various other restaurants in the city.  Places that were for "Venetians".  This would be another adventure for us that was unexpected.  The food of Venice doesn't seem to garner much fanfare internationally when compared to its illustrious counterparts in Tuscany, Lazio, Campania or Sicily.  I'm not even sure I really knew what Venetian food was before I arrived.  So with the extra knowledge, we explored and we found restaurants recommended by locals or by friends from the city.  I was surprised by all of it.  There were things that I expected, such as pastas and dishes featuring seafood.  Nothing unusual given the seafaring history of the city.  They were all well prepared, but they were all still variations of dishes I had eaten in other parts of Italy.  There were however the dishes we found which showed the other more refined side of Venice and its culture. Its location and history meant that it had a far greater influence of French and Central European culture than other parts of Italy.  This came through with what we ate.  We found ourselves eating cakes and pastries that seemed to be far more French than Italian.  Shops serving biscuits and other sweets that reminded me of Austria.  In the restaurants we loved, fish was baked and served lovingly as though we were in France again.  My favourite of all though were the risottos.  The finest and most delicately cooked risottos I had ever eaten.  The rice cooked the the ideal point of a delicate bite, with the flavours of the ocean and the local vegetables balanced perfectly.

The evenings also gave us time to enjoy the city's more local culture and vibe.  Before dinner, we embraced the "cicchetti" culture of the city.  It is the Venetian version of tapas.  Though from a historical point of view, I wondered whether it was the other way around?  It was a time for a small glass of wine, accompanied by some small snacks (the cicchetti), to be enjoyed with others and before the more important meal to be eaten later.  I felt the same enjoyment as relaxing over tapas and wine with friends.  The added benefit was that this could all be done sitting next the lapping waters of the canals.  We walked out of the areas around San Marco and San Polo in search of these different places.  We ended up finding the Canaregio district which seems to be the most "local" of areas where most local Venetians still live.  Life felt strangely normal as we sat, drank and ate.  Children ran around and locals popped in and out of the stores after a long day at work looking for a quick snack and drink. 

Even the most famously busy areas changed at night.  One night, after dinner we decided to go for a long walk.  We put our phones away and relied instead on our own sense of direction and the different signs pointing us back to St Mark's Square.  It was long and lovely walk through the quiet streets of Venice.  There were few people on the side and back streets, and each lane and bridge we crossed was always gently illuminated by the golden street lights.  We made our way past different parts of the city we hadn't seen before, finding random new pockets of life and activity, small bars and restaurants filled with people, and we found quiet and silent streets interrupted only by our own steps and that of some of the elderly residents as they themselves shuffled home.   We eventually found ourselves back at St Mark's Square.  It was still lively and full of people, but now nowhere near like during the day.  The old grand cafes that lined the square with tables had the bands out and playing.  We found ourselves a spot to sit down and to order what were possibly the most expensive drinks I have ever paid for in my life.  It didn't matter though.  We were there for the music and the ambiance.  The weather was warm, the breeze from the canal was cool and the music filled the evening sky.

I found it all a bit unfair that people have painted this incredible city as being nothing more than a tourist trap.  There were many tourists and there were indeed services everywhere which were in place to cater to those tourists, but this was no Disneyland.  The beauty and wonder of this city wasn't artificial or manufactured, it had all been built up organically through centuries of unimaginable wealth.  It was a city that had a depth of culture, unique to itself.  It seemed not quite Italian, but entirely European in its approach to life and attitudes.  This was place was a dream to visit.

Serenissima

We arrived by train in Venice.  It's a strange idea to arrive on this island by train.  It seems to be better known to the rest of the world as being an island cut off from the mainland, but much like Hong Kong, the modern world had caught up and there was now a bridge linking the Venetian islands to the Italian mainland.  It was our first time visiting and I felt that sense of excitement that comes when you are walking into a completely new place.

We walked out of the train station and we were immediately confronted with a breathtaking view.  I don't use that term casually either.  The train station opened up on a large open area in front of the grand canal.  On the other side of the canal, the palazzos and churches lined the banks.  It looked like something from a movie.  We made our way down towards the vaporetto stop.  With no roads, the public transport used in Venice is a "water bus" or vaporetto.  We had ferries in Hong Kong, but there was an extra novelty to this given how much more it seemed intertwined into the day to day existence of this city.  The initial experience was less than ideal.  The crush of visitors made it near impossible to line up, let alone board the boats as they came.  Somehow we managed to make our way onto one of the boats, only to realise it was going the wrong way.  This turned out to be a fortunate mistake as we took the boat one stop and then easily boarded another boat going the correct direction.  As we passed the original stop, we could see that there had hardly been any movement in the line and that the boat conductors were strict in how many people they allowed on.

We were staying next to the famous Rialto Bridge.  We checked into our hotel and quickly went out to explore the city.  Every street was crowded with people.  Venice has a reputation for tourism like with many other parts of Italy, but this seemed to be the epicentre of it all.  It seemed like tourists from every corner of the world had congregated in Venice.  There weren't any particular type of tourists either.  There were the tour groups, the backpackers, families, hipster individuals, couples looking for a romantic retreat, older travellers exploring the world.  It was all quite nice in its own way.  The crowds did make it a bit congested at times, but it was a good feeling to be around so many different people from so many different places all at the same time.  The one group that seemed to be lacking was actual Venetians.  These are an endangered species within Venice and we would learn that they had stronger views towards the different types of tourists that visited their fine city.

The next few days would be spent exploring.  I was well aware of the intense levels of tourism in this city, but I've also long come to the view that there is more often than not a good reason for places being very popular with tourists, and that is that those places are usually amazing.

We walked through the crowded streets and straight to St Mark's Square.  From there, we kept walking further along until we stood at the water's edge, looking out towards the Grand Canal.  Standing in this location, one of the great and important locations in global history was a special moment.  I felt the rush that comes from being in a new place, but I also felt the excitement of being in this special location in the world.  This was the place where the Doges has walked, where crusaders had come and gone.  I had arranged for us a tour that included a shared gondola ride.  It meant that we would be able to go into St Mark's Basilica without lining up.  I fully intended on taking Veronica on a more private and romantic gondola trip, but and the free gondola ride was a happy bonus.

The gondola ride was everything you would expect.  It was kitschy and hyper touristic.  Filled up with others, I felt very much like I was on a big tour group being shuffled from one location to another.  From the huge numbers being herded to the embarkation point, to the sudden groupings to get people onto the different gondolas, it was all an exercise in organised chaos   Yet through the rush, once we were on the gondolas, I enjoyed the ride through the canals.  With a starting point being near the more densely packed areas around St Mark's Square, we were able to observe and enjoy not only the beautiful buildings around us, but also the wonderful liveliness that embraced the city.  There seemed to be a party at every house and hotel, with the constant pop of champagne corks and music. Being on the water, you could also see the real magic of Venice, with the buildings all skirted by the water of the canals.  Magic was the only word that seem apt to describe it all.  The buildings seemed to float out of the water.  It is something I had seen countless times on different media, but seeing it person was a uniquely wonderful experience.  After the gondola ride, came the main attraction and the true purpose of the booking, St Mark's Basilica.  Even from a distance, this church looked dramatically different to any of the other churches I had seen before.  I had been lucky enough to travel to many parts of Europe, and for all of the beautiful and lovely churches I had seen, there was definitely at times a "sameness" to them all.  Irrespective of how impressive or majestic they may be, at times they tended to start blending in my mind and memory.  Standing in front of St Mark's Basilica was different.  This looked like nothing I had ever seen before.  I didn't have the classic image that most churches have.  Instead it seemed to blend elements from both European and oriental architecture into its own unique form.  Even thinking back to my time traveling through the Middle East didn't seem to bring up any comparable memories.  This was something that was by itself special.

The inside of the basilica was no less impressive.  It felt old and ancient.  Like something from a long and distant past.  Compared to the churches in Rome and Florence, it felt foreign and distant.  On the walls, the guides pointed us towards the tide marks, showing just how high the Aqua Alta could reach and the damage that had been caused over the centuries.  Still, this basilica survived, its interiors glowing with the precious stones and gold that had been brought in by its traders. At the top of the basilica was a small museum.  Inside stood the Horses of St Mark's, treasures pillaged by the Venetians during their sack of Constantinople.  The outside horses were just replicas and the originals sat inside here away from the elements.  I had read about the history of the crusades since I was young.  One of the first books I can remember reading in the school library when I was growing up in Melbourne was a children's book on the crusades.  To be standing in front of these treasures from history gave me a thrill and joy.

Next on our tourist travels was a visit to the Doge's Palace.  This centre of power could rightly claim to have once been the seat of the most powerful country in Europe, if not the world.  I thought back to all the grand palazzos and churches I had been in other places as I walked into this building.  From the outside, it was a slightly pink and ornate building, but it didn't stand out with the same level of grandeur as say the buildings at the Vatican.  However, once I was inside I saw how deceiving it all was.  Even with its beautiful exterior, it was incomparable with the beauty on the inside.  There was a level of wealth and power that seemed to drip from the walls and the ceilings.  From the outside, this really was more of an office block, which it very much was back in its heyday.  The incredible paintings from the great masters Titian and Tintoretto seemed to sag from the ceilings.  The sculptures and gold, seemed to bring the walls to life.  Walking through the salons and halls reminded me of walking through the buildings inside the Vatican.  Whereas at the Vatican, the incredible Sistine Chapel is one of the last and most impressive things you see, in the Doge's Palace, one of the last places you visit is the equally magnificent Chamber of the Great Council.  This was an enormous chamber that I lingered in.  The sheer size of it was impressive without taking into account the rich detail on every available space.  

From here, we made our way "out" through the back rooms and halls.  This led us to what was arguable the most famous part of the entire building, the "Bridge of Sighs".  This famous old bridge from which prisoners would look out one last time and let out a sigh at the beauty of Venice before being led into the prisons below.  Now it was full of tourists and visitors.  Each stopping and looking out as the condemned once had as well, still full of sighs but for very different reasons.

This city was captivating in a way that I had not imagined.  Its beauty is famed and yet the pictures and reputation still doesn't do it enough justice.  We had more days to spend here, it seemed we had only uncovered the briefest part of this city.

Arezzo

Veronica wanted to go out to some of the outlets near Florence.  I was more than happy to go for a bit of a trip outside the city so I rented a car for the day.  With so much time and the benefit of a car, we decided to go a bit further and to visit one of the nearby towns.  I looked at the maps and worked out that the town of Arezzo was only an hour away.  It worked out quite well too.  We would go to Arezzo and then track back to the outlets which would be on the way back to Florence.  We woke up early and took a taxi out to the airport car rental.  I was getting more flashbacks to my last trip to Florence when I also came here to rent a car for my first road trip in Italy.  I dismissed these thoughts from my head as memories of a different life.

The car rental process was easy enough until we reached the boom gate to exit the car park.  The girl working behind the counter had forgotten to give me a pass to exit and so we were stuck trying to figure out a way to leave until a random worker with a pass walked by and swiped us out.  The drive to Arezzo should have been straight forward, yet we were somehow caught in a near full stop traffic jam on the highway.  It was a confusing traffic jam that seemed to have no cause.  Initially I thought that it was caused by roadworks, but after about 40 minutes of waiting, we finally began moving at speed and seemed to pass nothing that would have caused such a delay.  The only possible explanation I could think of was that there had been a breakdown that had been fixed.

We reached the town of Arezzo a bit later than expected.  I had done my research online and parked at the bottom of the town just outside of the old town.  There was a series of covered escalators that took us all the way into the centre which was very convenient.  Within about fifteen minutes, we were standing in the famous town square of this old medieval town.

Like many other places in Italy, it was a beautiful town.  What was a bit different was that it was "older".  Most other places we went seemed to have a style and architecture that was largely created during the renaissance.  Even Rome, for all of its lovely old Roman ruins has most of these spots surrounded by the elegant buildings of the renaissance that came far later.  Arezzo was a bit different as the town had maintained a look and feel from the middle ages. 

These extra few hundred years made a big difference with the look and feel of the place.  It didn't have the grand and refined style of the other places we had been, but instead everything felt a bit more quaint and rustic.  Most of these places we had visited were still quite touristic in their look and appearance, but this old middle ages feel seemed to make that tourist town vibe even stronger than normal.  At times, it did seem to make the place appear a bit like medieval theme park.  I was half expecting to see actors in faux knight armour appear to start jousting and fighting.

There were no knights to be found, but in their place there were children everywhere.  One of the kids had a small drum with him, and everywhere the family went we could hear the drum beating.  The town was small, so we could work out roughly where the family had decided to walk just from the location of the sound.

We found a nice spot near the main square and had lunch.  The food was rich and hearty.  Stewed beef in red wine, accompanied by the strangely tasteless Tuscan bread.  We were enjoying the food in Tuscany, but it didn't suit the weather.  With the warmth of summer, the heartiness of all the food we had been eating was a bit out of place.  Future visits to Tuscany should probably come in Autumn or during other cooler times.  The middle of summer didn't seem to be the best time to be indulging in such heavy fare.

After lunch, we slowly made our way back to the car.  The car park was located at the bottom of a series of escalators that took people quickly up and down to the city centre.  We both joked that it felt like we had found an Italian version of Hong Kong's Mid Level escalators.  Veronica was excited, as we got into the car and sped off towards the true highlight for her of this day's trip, the outlets.

Fiorentine

I had been to Florence several years ago.  It had been a different type of trip and I still thought back to that time fondly.  I was far less experienced with Italian travel and being in Italy, let alone Florence was still a very novel experience for me.  Everything Italian felt sophisticated and special.  I didn't feel like I needed to search for anything specific or unique, because as far as I was concerned it was all amazing.

This time I wanted to be more selective with my exploring with meals.  I felt privileged to have the knowledge to take Veronica around the city in a more effective manner and I wanted to make sure I made the best use of our time.  Before we arrived, I made sure that all the tickets were booked for the museums and the Duomo.  There would be no lining up for us and we would go straight into each location.  With limited time, the additional costs for the skip the line tickets are in my opinion entirely worth the price.  We went to the Uffizi and the Academia without the delays of waiting.   We stood in front of the great works of art and marveled at Michelangelo's David quickly and efficiently.  

Each location was lovely.  There was a refinement to the city that had stuck out to me when I last visited and I still felt it now.  We went in and out of all of the great museums and churches, but for me what I enjoyed the most was the beautiful city itself.  I remembered back to how much I had been impressed by the city.  For all the different museums we visited, nothing seemed to compare to the beauty of the city itself which was effectively an enormous open air museum.  Veronica said it felt like many parts of Rome but put together better.

More than anything else, I enjoyed walking the streets and just soaking up the lovely atmosphere and surroundings.  We had been to the key sights that we needed to visit for Veronica, but there wasn't a great rush to see as many things as possible in the time we had.  I knew we were fortunate that this wasn't our first trip to Italy.  It took away the pressure some may have of maximising the time they had to visit as many locations as possible.  Around us, there were others who clearly didn't have the same luxury and they seemed to be a state of constant motion as they rushed and ran from location to location.  I understood why they were doing it, as it was something that I had done many times in the past as well.  We were very fortunate though to be able to take the more relaxed approach to everything, and this was a joy I tried to embrace.  

Inside the museums and the cathedrals, we took our time.  We wandered in and out of rooms at a leisurely pace and when we found something we liked, we would walk back and gaze again.  

We stopped frequently to look at the stores and shops that lined all of the beautiful old streets of Florence.  Through our walking, we found the classy part of the town full of the jewelry and the high end stores.  We went in and looked.  Inside the Pomellato store, Veronica sat and looked at the lovely rings.  Her eyes shone as the bright coloured jewel flashed in the light.  It seemed like the perfect present for her.

For our last meal in the city, we booked a restaurant to try a Bistecca all Fiorentina.  It was a touristy thing to do, something that many visitors to the city will try once.  These enormous steaks are expensive, so it's usually a one of event on the trip.  The hotel was kind enough to recommend a good restaurant and we walked to the far end of the old town.  It was a part of town I had never been too, far away from the Duomo and the train station at the "other" end.  It was still part of the old and historic part of Florence, so it had the beautiful surroundings and lovely old buildings, but it felt a bit more rugged and rough.  A bit more lived in compared to the clearly tourist parts that I had become accustomed to.   

The restaurant was warm and friendly.  Inside there were locals and tourists alike.  The waiters walked briskly, carrying the enormous plates of food to the tables, but were all kind enough to linger and explain to us the different options available.  We of course ordered the steak, but added a few starters at their recommendation.  When the enormous steak arrived, we were a little taken aback by its size.  We knew they were big, but having the enormous platter take up most of the table puts it all into perspective.  Happily, this was not an instance of expectations ruining the reality.  The steak was incredible.  Crusty, yet soft and full of flavour.  It was the best steak I had eaten in years.  Veronica insisted that she would only eat the end pieces and wouldn't be able to each much at all, but after a few bites she seemed to ignore her own previous declarations and began to enjoy the meal with gusto.

I was glad to be back in Florence.  The touristic nature of the town is undeniable and it really does at times feel as though it is merely a preserved museum to be wandered through with a degree of reverence and distance.  But there is a lovely life to this city, a beautiful life that I was glad to have been able to enjoy once more.