Europeans Rejoice! Mai Tai Returns From 17 Great Days.
Oct 9th, 2003, 02:18 PM
#82
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The name of the Christmas shop in Requewihr is Kathe Wolfhart. They now have an online shop: http://shop.wohlfahrt.com
They have several stores in Germany, one in Brugge and now one in Stillwater, MN. Isn't the internet great!
They have several stores in Germany, one in Brugge and now one in Stillwater, MN. Isn't the internet great!
Oct 9th, 2003, 02:25 PM
#83
Original Poster
HEADING DOWN THE HOMESTRETCH...FINALLY
Our longest drive (thanks to an autobahn miscue by yours truly). We left Lugano at 8:30 on our way to a bed and breakfast I had read about in National Geographic Traveler. The b&b, Antica casa le Rondini, is located in the tiny medievil town of Colle di Buggiano, located in the hills above Montecatini Terme (Jeez, if I use any of those words again, they will be just be initials).
We had no idea where the place was (except an address) and we could not drive into the town). Tracy and I looked like a couple of escapees from The Amazing Race, wandering up and down cobblestone streets and alleys until we just happened to be right in front of the ACLR.
Fulvia (sounds like one of the names that Seinfeld yelled out in that famous episode) showed us to our room that had 400 year old frescoes in it. Fulvia and her husband own the joint. The room was pretty spacious with a decent bathroom.
We obviously had eaten too much at our last place, because neither of us were hungry. I had told Tracy about some gardens in Collodi, a little town nearby, so we drove to the Villa Garzoni. The building is closed for restoration, but the gardens were open.
I had heard from someone on this board many months ago that the gardens were in a sad state, but I hoped for the best. As it turned out, sad was being too kind.
This place could be a showcase some day, but everything from the gardens to the sculptures to the steps looked like they hadn't been taken care for a long, long time.
Too bad. It was still early in the afternoon, so we decided to get Pisa out of the way. I wanted to go up in the Tower, but since I did not have a reservation I knew I would just get a chance to see from the outside, but, hey, we had a couple of hours to kill.
After about 15 minutes of being off the Highway, I knew why they called it the Campo dei Miracoli, because to find it is a miracle. First there are signs, then they disappear.
Of course, we found it. The Campo dei Miracoli is quite impressive, but all the little tourist trap booths really cheapen the experience. We did the obligatory holding out your hands to hold up the Tower picture and decided to relax down the street at cafe with a caraffe of wine.
These tourists from Florida were sitting next to us, and this one guy gets up to take a picture. As he clicks the camera, a pigeon drops a load right right on the guy's nice golf shirt. It was not a pretty sight, but they gave him grief for the next 1/2 hour. Pretty funny.
We drove back to CdB, showered and went to the only restaurant in town on the only square in town. It didn't open until eight, but fortunately the guy next door with the little bar, scurried getting some tables and chairs outside, so we had a couple of Campari cocktails while waiting for the restaurant to open.
A little digression: Campari is definitely an acquired taste. In my never ending quest to find things out to report back to you all, I tried it on this trip with OJ (the drink, not the murderer), Soda, On The Rocks and in some mysterious bottled form. My personal favorite was Campari with orange juice (maybe because if I tried real hard I could make it look sort of like a mai tai).
Well, we had our dinner. Nothing spectacular. We were kind of spoiled after the two weeks of great food we had eaten, especially at the Stella (no, I did not do a Marlon Brando impersonation there). By the time we were finished, the place was packed.
We then went to the only other place on the square for an after dinner libation (we are equal opportunity drinkers). It was very nicely decorated, and although they called it a wine bar, they had a nice selection at the bar. I decided on a decaf Irish coffee (one of the first signs of aging is not being able to drink caffeinated coffee after seven in the evening). It was amazingly delicious with real whipped cream.
We went back to go to sleep, and Tracy (who usually can sleep through an earthquake or at least our dog's incessant snoring, finally succumbed to the battle of dueling church bells.
The one church chimed eleven bells at eleven. The other followed suit about five minutes later. Tracy hates to know what time it is in when she's in bed anyway until it's time to wake up. The next morning she said she thought she must have fallen asleep at some juncture, but it was a bad night for her. As for me, the next thing I heard after the double elevens were the double sixes. I was ready for the day.
Tracy said she must have bags under her eyes the size of a handbag. That got her in a shopping mood. We had talked about going to Lucca, bu it was a beautiful day and Firenze was calling our name.
Lucca will wait until next time. We had a train to catch.
(H))
Our longest drive (thanks to an autobahn miscue by yours truly). We left Lugano at 8:30 on our way to a bed and breakfast I had read about in National Geographic Traveler. The b&b, Antica casa le Rondini, is located in the tiny medievil town of Colle di Buggiano, located in the hills above Montecatini Terme (Jeez, if I use any of those words again, they will be just be initials).
We had no idea where the place was (except an address) and we could not drive into the town). Tracy and I looked like a couple of escapees from The Amazing Race, wandering up and down cobblestone streets and alleys until we just happened to be right in front of the ACLR.
Fulvia (sounds like one of the names that Seinfeld yelled out in that famous episode) showed us to our room that had 400 year old frescoes in it. Fulvia and her husband own the joint. The room was pretty spacious with a decent bathroom.
We obviously had eaten too much at our last place, because neither of us were hungry. I had told Tracy about some gardens in Collodi, a little town nearby, so we drove to the Villa Garzoni. The building is closed for restoration, but the gardens were open.
I had heard from someone on this board many months ago that the gardens were in a sad state, but I hoped for the best. As it turned out, sad was being too kind.
This place could be a showcase some day, but everything from the gardens to the sculptures to the steps looked like they hadn't been taken care for a long, long time.
Too bad. It was still early in the afternoon, so we decided to get Pisa out of the way. I wanted to go up in the Tower, but since I did not have a reservation I knew I would just get a chance to see from the outside, but, hey, we had a couple of hours to kill.
After about 15 minutes of being off the Highway, I knew why they called it the Campo dei Miracoli, because to find it is a miracle. First there are signs, then they disappear.
Of course, we found it. The Campo dei Miracoli is quite impressive, but all the little tourist trap booths really cheapen the experience. We did the obligatory holding out your hands to hold up the Tower picture and decided to relax down the street at cafe with a caraffe of wine.
These tourists from Florida were sitting next to us, and this one guy gets up to take a picture. As he clicks the camera, a pigeon drops a load right right on the guy's nice golf shirt. It was not a pretty sight, but they gave him grief for the next 1/2 hour. Pretty funny.
We drove back to CdB, showered and went to the only restaurant in town on the only square in town. It didn't open until eight, but fortunately the guy next door with the little bar, scurried getting some tables and chairs outside, so we had a couple of Campari cocktails while waiting for the restaurant to open.
A little digression: Campari is definitely an acquired taste. In my never ending quest to find things out to report back to you all, I tried it on this trip with OJ (the drink, not the murderer), Soda, On The Rocks and in some mysterious bottled form. My personal favorite was Campari with orange juice (maybe because if I tried real hard I could make it look sort of like a mai tai).
Well, we had our dinner. Nothing spectacular. We were kind of spoiled after the two weeks of great food we had eaten, especially at the Stella (no, I did not do a Marlon Brando impersonation there). By the time we were finished, the place was packed.
We then went to the only other place on the square for an after dinner libation (we are equal opportunity drinkers). It was very nicely decorated, and although they called it a wine bar, they had a nice selection at the bar. I decided on a decaf Irish coffee (one of the first signs of aging is not being able to drink caffeinated coffee after seven in the evening). It was amazingly delicious with real whipped cream.
We went back to go to sleep, and Tracy (who usually can sleep through an earthquake or at least our dog's incessant snoring, finally succumbed to the battle of dueling church bells.
The one church chimed eleven bells at eleven. The other followed suit about five minutes later. Tracy hates to know what time it is in when she's in bed anyway until it's time to wake up. The next morning she said she thought she must have fallen asleep at some juncture, but it was a bad night for her. As for me, the next thing I heard after the double elevens were the double sixes. I was ready for the day.
Tracy said she must have bags under her eyes the size of a handbag. That got her in a shopping mood. We had talked about going to Lucca, bu it was a beautiful day and Firenze was calling our name.
Lucca will wait until next time. We had a train to catch.
(H))
Oct 9th, 2003, 03:17 PM
#84
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Tom, you've missed a couple of classic Campari concoctions: the Americano, which is Campari and red vermouth, and the Negroni, which is the same plus gin. Either drink may also include soda, if you like.
Oct 9th, 2003, 03:48 PM
#85
Original Poster
"Tom, you've missed a couple of classic Campari concoctions: the Americano, which is Campari and red vermouth, and the Negroni, which is the same plus gin."
Thanks. Since I bought a bottle of Campari when I got home, I might have to try these concoctions while watching the baseball playoffs tonight.
Thanks. Since I bought a bottle of Campari when I got home, I might have to try these concoctions while watching the baseball playoffs tonight.
Oct 9th, 2003, 03:51 PM
#86
I like it (Campari) with tonic.It's pretty refreshing with the added benefit of keeping the mosquitos away! This report is like reading a really good book where you want to know how it ends, but you don't want it to end. Fodors needs to start an award for the best trip report. This gets my vote (and not just because Tom's a Charger fan!).
Oct 9th, 2003, 04:59 PM
#87
Original Poster
As stated previously, we decided to skip Lucca and take the train to Firenze for the day. When we were in Florence in May of 2001, she had spied a pair of bling bling (English translates to earrings) that she wanted to buy. I was too busy hanging out at the Hotel Hermitage rooftop drinking wine to be bothered by earrings, so she ended up having drinks with me and the other couple traveling with us. She wanted to go back and buy those earrings, and today was going to be that day.
After a delightful breakfast in the garden of our b&b, we drove to the station in plenty of time to catch the 10:25 train to Florence. Plenty of time that is if there was not a lady at the head of the line who took forever to get whatever the hell she was getting. The guy handing out tickets kept throwing up his arms like, "Just figure out where you're going Lady!" The line got longer and longer. The time until the train departed became shorter and shorter. It was time for desperate measures.
Right behind us was a young English woman and her mum (Englishspeak) and a nice German couple. We began thinking of another plan. We decided to board the train with no tickets, and if asked, tell the ticket person of the situation, and buy the tickets from him or her. If they gave us any trouble we dubbed ourselves the Coalition Forces (all for one and one for all). I felt like the guys on the train in the Great Escape after they had broken out of the camp, except I was sure the ticket taker did not have a machine gun. Of course we never saw a ticket person the entire trip, so it was free.
The day was perfect. Probably in the low 70s with just a few wisps (whatever those are) of white clouds. We went with the Brits to the Duomo, and since there was no line we zipped inside. As the clock crept toward noon, you should know by now what we were thinking.
Our minds were on chicken sandwiches. Why, you ask (or maybe you didn't)? Let me digress (for a change)
When we first visited Florence in 1996, our hotel was near Giacosa Caffé Pasticceria on via Torabuoni. We had gone with another couple on this trip, as well, and I had scared them half (well maybe three-quarters) to death with my erratic driving (hey if you've driven in Florence, it is hell on earth). In the matter of five minutes I had nearly wiped out a dozen street vendors in one part of the city, run over a gaggle of Nuns (maybe a flock of Nuns sounds better) and had backed up at a high rate of speed down a one street (going the wrong way...for me anyway) in a futile effort to find our hotel. When we finally got to the parking garage, and our friends had some color back in their faces, I told them I'd buy them a drink.
We went to Giacosa and the bartender made the greatest screwdriver ever made with fresh orange juice I still could taste today if he hadn't put so much vodka in the glass. But even better, this place had the freshest chicken sandwiches on Earth. The chicken and lettuce with mayo are placed between two round-type croissant pieces of bread, and the four of us devoured them during our three day stay. When we left Florence on that trip, we bought the remaining ten sandwiches for the drive to Bellagio. When we came back in 2001, the sandwiches were just as good.
We got to the corner where Giocasa is supposed to be, and to our dismay there is now a damn dress store. I guarantee, had I not seen that Giacosa had moved off the via Tornabuoni there would have been more crying on that street corner than any David sighting by you guys on the board. The sandwiches, as always, did not disappoint. There were four left when we got inside, and we bought them all (they are small).
We walked around Florence stuffing our face full of chicken sandwich until we came upon the bling bling capital of Italy, the Ponte Vecchio. I lasted about 15 minutes until I had to go buy a USA Today and catch up on the sports world while Tracy tried to find her beloved earrings. Incredibly, she found them.
Then it was on to the Palazzo Vecchio, which we had never visited. We saw our Brit friends on the way over. We really liked the Palazzo Vecchio, and Tracy and I made a vow that next time we visit Florence (and unless I'm run over by the MetroLink, there will be a next time), we were going to hire a guide for 1/2 a day and get even more involved with these places. Either that or just eat chicken sandwiches all day.
We then had wine and crackers at an overpriced cafe on Piazza della Signoria or as we call it...Neptune Square. Plus I can never get enough of those statues of people cutting other people's heads off. Tracy told me I could not sing, "I Ain't Got No Body" or "Going out of My Head" on this trip, and I did not. Our British friends yelled out to us from their horse drawn carriage, and I quickly got my camera, stood up looking like the dorky tourist I am and took their picture. Tracy said, "We should send it to them."
I told her that would be good idea if only we knew where they lived.
After vino, we headed out of town, but in a moment of craziness we went into a leather store. I had a brown leather jacket ruined a couple of years ago, so we decided to look. MISTAKE. The sales guy takes us up about five flights of stairs to the "Let's Sell This American Something Right Now" room. Of course, it worked. It had to be the greatest leather jacket that I had ever felt. So I bought the damned thing. I rationialized that we didn't have to pay for the train to Florence (of course that fare turned out to be less than four euros, but it made me feel better for a couple of minutes).
We trained back to the b&b, went to a cute little restaurant down the road in Colle or di or Buggiano, the signs were a little whacked, plus I still had sticker shock from the leather coat experience. The meal was fine, the wine superb and we went back to our room.
One bad move. In our buying frenzy of bling bling and the leather coat, we had forgot to buy my wife earplugs. She did better than the night before, but it still was tough on her. I, of course, slept like a baby because we had gone back to the place on the square where I had the great Irish coffee, and on this night downed a couple of Campari on the rocks with a splash of, well I really don't remember.
Be patient readers, only a few more days of this and you'll be rid of me.
Tomorrow:
Tom and Tracy return to Cinque Terre. All signs point to Levanto (no, they really did), a train trip to the wrong city, the slowest restaurant on the face of the earth Part 2 and dueling church bells Part 2. Oh yeah, and the Attack of the Killer, Sunglass-Breaking Bees. Bee Afraid. Bee Very Afraid.
After a delightful breakfast in the garden of our b&b, we drove to the station in plenty of time to catch the 10:25 train to Florence. Plenty of time that is if there was not a lady at the head of the line who took forever to get whatever the hell she was getting. The guy handing out tickets kept throwing up his arms like, "Just figure out where you're going Lady!" The line got longer and longer. The time until the train departed became shorter and shorter. It was time for desperate measures.
Right behind us was a young English woman and her mum (Englishspeak) and a nice German couple. We began thinking of another plan. We decided to board the train with no tickets, and if asked, tell the ticket person of the situation, and buy the tickets from him or her. If they gave us any trouble we dubbed ourselves the Coalition Forces (all for one and one for all). I felt like the guys on the train in the Great Escape after they had broken out of the camp, except I was sure the ticket taker did not have a machine gun. Of course we never saw a ticket person the entire trip, so it was free.
The day was perfect. Probably in the low 70s with just a few wisps (whatever those are) of white clouds. We went with the Brits to the Duomo, and since there was no line we zipped inside. As the clock crept toward noon, you should know by now what we were thinking.
Our minds were on chicken sandwiches. Why, you ask (or maybe you didn't)? Let me digress (for a change)
When we first visited Florence in 1996, our hotel was near Giacosa Caffé Pasticceria on via Torabuoni. We had gone with another couple on this trip, as well, and I had scared them half (well maybe three-quarters) to death with my erratic driving (hey if you've driven in Florence, it is hell on earth). In the matter of five minutes I had nearly wiped out a dozen street vendors in one part of the city, run over a gaggle of Nuns (maybe a flock of Nuns sounds better) and had backed up at a high rate of speed down a one street (going the wrong way...for me anyway) in a futile effort to find our hotel. When we finally got to the parking garage, and our friends had some color back in their faces, I told them I'd buy them a drink.
We went to Giacosa and the bartender made the greatest screwdriver ever made with fresh orange juice I still could taste today if he hadn't put so much vodka in the glass. But even better, this place had the freshest chicken sandwiches on Earth. The chicken and lettuce with mayo are placed between two round-type croissant pieces of bread, and the four of us devoured them during our three day stay. When we left Florence on that trip, we bought the remaining ten sandwiches for the drive to Bellagio. When we came back in 2001, the sandwiches were just as good.
We got to the corner where Giocasa is supposed to be, and to our dismay there is now a damn dress store. I guarantee, had I not seen that Giacosa had moved off the via Tornabuoni there would have been more crying on that street corner than any David sighting by you guys on the board. The sandwiches, as always, did not disappoint. There were four left when we got inside, and we bought them all (they are small).
We walked around Florence stuffing our face full of chicken sandwich until we came upon the bling bling capital of Italy, the Ponte Vecchio. I lasted about 15 minutes until I had to go buy a USA Today and catch up on the sports world while Tracy tried to find her beloved earrings. Incredibly, she found them.
Then it was on to the Palazzo Vecchio, which we had never visited. We saw our Brit friends on the way over. We really liked the Palazzo Vecchio, and Tracy and I made a vow that next time we visit Florence (and unless I'm run over by the MetroLink, there will be a next time), we were going to hire a guide for 1/2 a day and get even more involved with these places. Either that or just eat chicken sandwiches all day.
We then had wine and crackers at an overpriced cafe on Piazza della Signoria or as we call it...Neptune Square. Plus I can never get enough of those statues of people cutting other people's heads off. Tracy told me I could not sing, "I Ain't Got No Body" or "Going out of My Head" on this trip, and I did not. Our British friends yelled out to us from their horse drawn carriage, and I quickly got my camera, stood up looking like the dorky tourist I am and took their picture. Tracy said, "We should send it to them."
I told her that would be good idea if only we knew where they lived.
After vino, we headed out of town, but in a moment of craziness we went into a leather store. I had a brown leather jacket ruined a couple of years ago, so we decided to look. MISTAKE. The sales guy takes us up about five flights of stairs to the "Let's Sell This American Something Right Now" room. Of course, it worked. It had to be the greatest leather jacket that I had ever felt. So I bought the damned thing. I rationialized that we didn't have to pay for the train to Florence (of course that fare turned out to be less than four euros, but it made me feel better for a couple of minutes).
We trained back to the b&b, went to a cute little restaurant down the road in Colle or di or Buggiano, the signs were a little whacked, plus I still had sticker shock from the leather coat experience. The meal was fine, the wine superb and we went back to our room.
One bad move. In our buying frenzy of bling bling and the leather coat, we had forgot to buy my wife earplugs. She did better than the night before, but it still was tough on her. I, of course, slept like a baby because we had gone back to the place on the square where I had the great Irish coffee, and on this night downed a couple of Campari on the rocks with a splash of, well I really don't remember.
Be patient readers, only a few more days of this and you'll be rid of me.
Tomorrow:
Tom and Tracy return to Cinque Terre. All signs point to Levanto (no, they really did), a train trip to the wrong city, the slowest restaurant on the face of the earth Part 2 and dueling church bells Part 2. Oh yeah, and the Attack of the Killer, Sunglass-Breaking Bees. Bee Afraid. Bee Very Afraid.
Oct 9th, 2003, 06:22 PM
#89
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Jahoulih,
I cant believe , I finally found a person that like or know what is a Negroni...I adore a good Negroni, and everytime I go back to Rome, I always have at least one ,I had the first one when I was 16, and since then I just adore this cocktail.
I cant believe , I finally found a person that like or know what is a Negroni...I adore a good Negroni, and everytime I go back to Rome, I always have at least one ,I had the first one when I was 16, and since then I just adore this cocktail.
Oct 9th, 2003, 06:46 PM
#91
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Scarlett, I never tried it with vodka, always with gin..
The Negroni was invented by an Italian count, Camillo Negroni in early 1900, and because he kept asking the bartender for the same drink , after telling him how to make it, the bartender finally named it after the count..
The Negroni was invented by an Italian count, Camillo Negroni in early 1900, and because he kept asking the bartender for the same drink , after telling him how to make it, the bartender finally named it after the count..
Oct 9th, 2003, 07:35 PM
#93
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"As he clicks the camera, a pigeon drops a load right right on the guy's nice golf shirt."
A friend of mine told me that in China, this is considered very very good luck (!!)
Fascinating trip report - you get my vote for being the best of the best!!
But - how do you manage to remember all this stuff????
(. . . and. . . when is the next installment?)
A friend of mine told me that in China, this is considered very very good luck (!!)
Fascinating trip report - you get my vote for being the best of the best!!
But - how do you manage to remember all this stuff????
(. . . and. . . when is the next installment?)
Oct 10th, 2003, 05:16 AM
#94
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JoeG remarks
>In reference to your comments about the martini's - I always thought that one was not enough - two were too many - three were just right!<
Or as Mrs Parker once wrote,
Yes, I would like a Martini,
One, maybe two at the most,
After three, I am under the table,
After four, I am under the host.
>In reference to your comments about the martini's - I always thought that one was not enough - two were too many - three were just right!<
Or as Mrs Parker once wrote,
Yes, I would like a Martini,
One, maybe two at the most,
After three, I am under the table,
After four, I am under the host.
Oct 10th, 2003, 08:29 AM
#95
Original Poster
"But - how do you manage to remember all this stuff???? "
I write much of it down at the end of the day. Also, I am fortunate that I have a good memory, especially when it comes to travel and baseball (although being a Padre fan I try to forget about baseball a lot, too).
I write much of it down at the end of the day. Also, I am fortunate that I have a good memory, especially when it comes to travel and baseball (although being a Padre fan I try to forget about baseball a lot, too).
Oct 10th, 2003, 12:31 PM
#97
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maitaitom,
by now I guess it becomes repetitive to you- but this is really great stuff!
Almost sad that you folks returned home- we could need some good company like yours here in Europe - as almost anywhere, I guess).
Offer a free round of really good Mai Tais should you ever make it to the North of Germany- you might be able to complete your trip experiences in that respect then.
Have a great time home!
Big Cheers
hsv
by now I guess it becomes repetitive to you- but this is really great stuff!
Almost sad that you folks returned home- we could need some good company like yours here in Europe - as almost anywhere, I guess).
Offer a free round of really good Mai Tais should you ever make it to the North of Germany- you might be able to complete your trip experiences in that respect then.
Have a great time home!
Big Cheers
hsv
Oct 10th, 2003, 01:41 PM
#98
Original Poster
With my mind on the bees yesterday, I forgot in my teaser to add, "And the worms in the cheese." We'll get to that in a minute.
Woke up on Wednesday in Colle di Buggiano. It was nice out, so we had breakfast again in the garden of our b&b. Unfortunately, a couple of bees were enjoying our table, the jam and me in particular. The last time I was stung, my arm swelled up like a softball, so I did not like them hanging out with me on this morning. In a futile attempt to shoo them away, I knocked the sunglasses off the top of my head, they landed on the ground and both lenses popped right out. Tracy got a kick out of that. Fortunately, on the way out of town, in MT, we came upon an eyeglass store, and the guy fixed them free of charge.
It was on to Levanto and the Cinque Terre. I inadvertently took the route to La Spezia (which would foreshadow an occurence later in the day. We drove out of La Spezia on a little road, and a short time later we came to a T in the road. To the left it said "Levanto 5 km." To the right it said "Levanto 5km." Unfortunately I took the left, and in 5 km I was in Monterosso and was told I had to go the other way to Levanto.
We got to the Villa Margherita (where we had stayed before), and Federico showed us to our 85 Euro per night room. It ain't the Ritz, but for 85 Euros it was fine. We walked down into Levanto (since we were here only a couple of years ago, it sort of seemed like home). We grabbed a piece of pizza, walked to the train station (we could even remember the shortcut we had taken two years ago), got our day train pass and headed for Vernazza.
I just love the way Vernazza's harbor looks with the colorful boats and the semicircle of buildings around the water.
We went to an internet cafe and found out that none of my business associates had missed me for two weeks and, as it turned out, neither had my cats. Oh yeah, we made a reservation at Gambero Rosso Ristorante for dinner. Back to the cats.
In a last minute change, one of my business partners and his girlfriend offered to housesit my cats, saving us hundreds of dollars. In his e-mail, he showed us pictures of our traitor cats having a blast wit the two of them. Actually, we were quite relieved.
We then took the train to Monterosso, walked around for a bit and decided to go back to our hotel and have some wine and cheese in the VM garden. I went down to a local shop and bought a bottle of red wine and some pecorino.
We were on our second glass of wine and were about half way through the wedge of pecorino when Tracy looked at the cheese and exclaimed, "What the hell is that?"
She knew what the hell it was, but I guess she wanted me to have the joyful experience of seeing a couple of worms frolicking in our cheese. They looked very content since they had not had to pay for this cheese and were having a fine time. Damn freeloaders.
What's the old joke? "What's worse than finding a worm in an apple? The answer, of course, is half a worm. Fortunately, both of these guys looked intact, but it kind of dimished that wine/cheese experience.
We had eight o'clock reservations at Gambero Rosso, but I wanted to take an earlier train because I thought I would shoot off a quick e-mail. We took what I thought was the 7:04 (I might be off a few minutes) to Vernazza. Well, it turned out I was off a few minutes. Our first stop was Monterosso. Perfect. In a few minutes we would be back in Vernazza. I was yapping away (hard to believe) and I didn't pay attention how much time had gone by as we headed toward Vernazza, but it had seemed like too long. The next thig I saw was the sign for Riomaggiore as we whizzed by without stopping.
I asked the guy across from us what the deal was and he replied, "You are on the train to La Spezia." The one, as it turned out, that did NOT stop in Vernazza. So there we were back in La Spezia for the second time. Unfortunately, I didn't even want to go there a first time.
No harm done. We found an internet cafe and got back to Vernazza by 8:40. The restaurant had held our table. That was the good news...and almost the bad news. We ordered fairly quickly, got our wine and then the wait began. Fifteen mintes. Twenty minutes. Half an hour. As I looked around, I saw other people looking around like my dog waiting for me to get her food bowl. It seemed, the kitchen was a tad backed up.
The last train out of Vernazza to Levanto is 10:59. I had thought that would not be a problem when we sat down to eat, but as time passed it looked like it could present a problem. I told Tracy that maybe this waiter was the brother of the slug waitress we had along the Routes des Vins. Actually he was moving quickly. The only problem was that he rarely had plates of food in his hands.
I flagged him down, and he said, "Just a few more minutes. It's slow tonight." The growling stomachs of the patrons seconded his opinion. The restaurant was packed and this guy seemed to be the only waiter. Obviously they were understaffed.
We finally got our meal. It was fairly average with a good dessert (on the plus side, there was not a worm to be found). We had a bottle and a caraff of wine, so the wait was no big deal. We weren't going to go back until 10:59 anyway, so the restaurant was a nice place to hang (even though we were starving). When we got up to the train station, there were a lot of unhappy (and really hungry) Gambero Rosso Ristorante patrons waiting for the train. Of the six people we talked with, two had not been served by the time they had to leave and catch the train, two had only received appetizers and two people, who had gotten to the restaurant well before us, had to rush eating because of the terrible service.
I love a relaxed meal that takes a long time. It is part of the European experience. This clearly was not that, however. I just think the restaurant thought this particular night was not going to be busy and terribly miscalculated.
We took the train back to Levanto. We walked a bit so as to not go to bed full. Right about midnight, we shut the lights off. The next thing we heard were the dueling church bells. No problem for me, and even Tracy slept pretty well, but I made sure that on our "to do" list the next morning would be "buy some earplugs."
The next day was overcast, but still humid. We took the (correct) train to Riomaggiore and walked around the town. Then we took the very easy hike between Riomaggiore and Manarola.
We hopped on the train for Vernazza and decided to grab some pizza and a drink. Tracy liked the Coke Lights, and when I tasted it, I actually liked it. It tasted different than Diet Coke (or maybe I was just really thirsty). Tracy took the train back to Levanto for a little nap, while I decided to start off on the hike that takes you from Vernazza to Monterosso.
Since I was feeling lazy (to quote Billy Crystal: "I'm on vacation"
and not in the mood for a strenuous hike, I decided I would only go a little way and take some pictures. The pictures I took (which I got back a couple of days ago) are fantastic. It was a pretty steady climb out of Vernazza, so to those doing it in the future, get in some sort of shape. On our next trip here (someday hopefully), I will do the Vernazza to Monterosso and the Corniglia to Vernazza hikes, the only two I have left to accomplish (I know there are more hikes, but I'm not a fanatic).
We showered early and walked into Levanto, Across the street from the Stella d'Italia Hotel (a place that I think I would stay at on our next trip here. It looked nice), there was a very nice bar where we sat outside. Tracy wrote down the name of the place, but unfortunately by the time we left here, she had forgotten that she had done that and tossed the napkin (the perils of the early cocktail hour).
We met a couple from Melbourne, Australia and we proceeded to drink and chat with them. We talked politics and pretty well solved the problems of the world in the next couple of hours. The bar did provide some nice munchies, so that after my now infamous third martini, I was able to navigate the streets of Levanto to our restaurant.
Taverna Garibaldi serves a mean pizza, and both of ours were quite delicious (I think). The place was packed, so we ate at one of the outside tables. I'd like to tell you what we had on our pizza, but that third martini blasted out so many brain cells that I was happy to remember that we were in Levanto. If anyone really needs to know, perhaps my wife can fill me in on the pizza details, although I remember she was in a very gregarious mood, as well. She was also happy that I had picked up some earplugs so she could sleep like a baby. Which she and I both did.
Lucky you. Only one more installment to go. Tomorrow: The Last Supper and the last supper. I'm getting melancholy already.
Woke up on Wednesday in Colle di Buggiano. It was nice out, so we had breakfast again in the garden of our b&b. Unfortunately, a couple of bees were enjoying our table, the jam and me in particular. The last time I was stung, my arm swelled up like a softball, so I did not like them hanging out with me on this morning. In a futile attempt to shoo them away, I knocked the sunglasses off the top of my head, they landed on the ground and both lenses popped right out. Tracy got a kick out of that. Fortunately, on the way out of town, in MT, we came upon an eyeglass store, and the guy fixed them free of charge.
It was on to Levanto and the Cinque Terre. I inadvertently took the route to La Spezia (which would foreshadow an occurence later in the day. We drove out of La Spezia on a little road, and a short time later we came to a T in the road. To the left it said "Levanto 5 km." To the right it said "Levanto 5km." Unfortunately I took the left, and in 5 km I was in Monterosso and was told I had to go the other way to Levanto.
We got to the Villa Margherita (where we had stayed before), and Federico showed us to our 85 Euro per night room. It ain't the Ritz, but for 85 Euros it was fine. We walked down into Levanto (since we were here only a couple of years ago, it sort of seemed like home). We grabbed a piece of pizza, walked to the train station (we could even remember the shortcut we had taken two years ago), got our day train pass and headed for Vernazza.
I just love the way Vernazza's harbor looks with the colorful boats and the semicircle of buildings around the water.
We went to an internet cafe and found out that none of my business associates had missed me for two weeks and, as it turned out, neither had my cats. Oh yeah, we made a reservation at Gambero Rosso Ristorante for dinner. Back to the cats.
In a last minute change, one of my business partners and his girlfriend offered to housesit my cats, saving us hundreds of dollars. In his e-mail, he showed us pictures of our traitor cats having a blast wit the two of them. Actually, we were quite relieved.
We then took the train to Monterosso, walked around for a bit and decided to go back to our hotel and have some wine and cheese in the VM garden. I went down to a local shop and bought a bottle of red wine and some pecorino.
We were on our second glass of wine and were about half way through the wedge of pecorino when Tracy looked at the cheese and exclaimed, "What the hell is that?"
She knew what the hell it was, but I guess she wanted me to have the joyful experience of seeing a couple of worms frolicking in our cheese. They looked very content since they had not had to pay for this cheese and were having a fine time. Damn freeloaders.
What's the old joke? "What's worse than finding a worm in an apple? The answer, of course, is half a worm. Fortunately, both of these guys looked intact, but it kind of dimished that wine/cheese experience.
We had eight o'clock reservations at Gambero Rosso, but I wanted to take an earlier train because I thought I would shoot off a quick e-mail. We took what I thought was the 7:04 (I might be off a few minutes) to Vernazza. Well, it turned out I was off a few minutes. Our first stop was Monterosso. Perfect. In a few minutes we would be back in Vernazza. I was yapping away (hard to believe) and I didn't pay attention how much time had gone by as we headed toward Vernazza, but it had seemed like too long. The next thig I saw was the sign for Riomaggiore as we whizzed by without stopping.
I asked the guy across from us what the deal was and he replied, "You are on the train to La Spezia." The one, as it turned out, that did NOT stop in Vernazza. So there we were back in La Spezia for the second time. Unfortunately, I didn't even want to go there a first time.
No harm done. We found an internet cafe and got back to Vernazza by 8:40. The restaurant had held our table. That was the good news...and almost the bad news. We ordered fairly quickly, got our wine and then the wait began. Fifteen mintes. Twenty minutes. Half an hour. As I looked around, I saw other people looking around like my dog waiting for me to get her food bowl. It seemed, the kitchen was a tad backed up.
The last train out of Vernazza to Levanto is 10:59. I had thought that would not be a problem when we sat down to eat, but as time passed it looked like it could present a problem. I told Tracy that maybe this waiter was the brother of the slug waitress we had along the Routes des Vins. Actually he was moving quickly. The only problem was that he rarely had plates of food in his hands.
I flagged him down, and he said, "Just a few more minutes. It's slow tonight." The growling stomachs of the patrons seconded his opinion. The restaurant was packed and this guy seemed to be the only waiter. Obviously they were understaffed.
We finally got our meal. It was fairly average with a good dessert (on the plus side, there was not a worm to be found). We had a bottle and a caraff of wine, so the wait was no big deal. We weren't going to go back until 10:59 anyway, so the restaurant was a nice place to hang (even though we were starving). When we got up to the train station, there were a lot of unhappy (and really hungry) Gambero Rosso Ristorante patrons waiting for the train. Of the six people we talked with, two had not been served by the time they had to leave and catch the train, two had only received appetizers and two people, who had gotten to the restaurant well before us, had to rush eating because of the terrible service.
I love a relaxed meal that takes a long time. It is part of the European experience. This clearly was not that, however. I just think the restaurant thought this particular night was not going to be busy and terribly miscalculated.
We took the train back to Levanto. We walked a bit so as to not go to bed full. Right about midnight, we shut the lights off. The next thing we heard were the dueling church bells. No problem for me, and even Tracy slept pretty well, but I made sure that on our "to do" list the next morning would be "buy some earplugs."
The next day was overcast, but still humid. We took the (correct) train to Riomaggiore and walked around the town. Then we took the very easy hike between Riomaggiore and Manarola.
We hopped on the train for Vernazza and decided to grab some pizza and a drink. Tracy liked the Coke Lights, and when I tasted it, I actually liked it. It tasted different than Diet Coke (or maybe I was just really thirsty). Tracy took the train back to Levanto for a little nap, while I decided to start off on the hike that takes you from Vernazza to Monterosso.
Since I was feeling lazy (to quote Billy Crystal: "I'm on vacation"
and not in the mood for a strenuous hike, I decided I would only go a little way and take some pictures. The pictures I took (which I got back a couple of days ago) are fantastic. It was a pretty steady climb out of Vernazza, so to those doing it in the future, get in some sort of shape. On our next trip here (someday hopefully), I will do the Vernazza to Monterosso and the Corniglia to Vernazza hikes, the only two I have left to accomplish (I know there are more hikes, but I'm not a fanatic).We showered early and walked into Levanto, Across the street from the Stella d'Italia Hotel (a place that I think I would stay at on our next trip here. It looked nice), there was a very nice bar where we sat outside. Tracy wrote down the name of the place, but unfortunately by the time we left here, she had forgotten that she had done that and tossed the napkin (the perils of the early cocktail hour).
We met a couple from Melbourne, Australia and we proceeded to drink and chat with them. We talked politics and pretty well solved the problems of the world in the next couple of hours. The bar did provide some nice munchies, so that after my now infamous third martini, I was able to navigate the streets of Levanto to our restaurant.
Taverna Garibaldi serves a mean pizza, and both of ours were quite delicious (I think). The place was packed, so we ate at one of the outside tables. I'd like to tell you what we had on our pizza, but that third martini blasted out so many brain cells that I was happy to remember that we were in Levanto. If anyone really needs to know, perhaps my wife can fill me in on the pizza details, although I remember she was in a very gregarious mood, as well. She was also happy that I had picked up some earplugs so she could sleep like a baby. Which she and I both did.
Lucky you. Only one more installment to go. Tomorrow: The Last Supper and the last supper. I'm getting melancholy already.
Oct 10th, 2003, 01:50 PM
#99
Original Poster
hsv.
Thanks for the nice comments. This is a great way to relive the trip and have something in my own personal archive also. Between this and my pictures I'm going through, it's almost like still being on a little part of the vacation. If I'm ever in the North of Germany, I'll bring the ingredients for a kockout mai tai.
Thanks for the nice comments. This is a great way to relive the trip and have something in my own personal archive also. Between this and my pictures I'm going through, it's almost like still being on a little part of the vacation. If I'm ever in the North of Germany, I'll bring the ingredients for a kockout mai tai.
