____________eurobloggin'

Lisbon

2006-03-18T00:00:00.000-08:00

Lisbon

This time, I go to Lisbon, accompanied by Jacqui, Lindsey, Tommy, Vance, Richard and Evan, who arrived one day earlier.

This trip starts out poorly. EasyJet is late…again, but the comical pilot makes it up. I guess we need to buy more sandwiches if we want punctuality. Once in Lisbon, we check in at Lisbon Lounge Hostel, which is decent enough. We buy some renowned Porto, and I also get some chips, bread, and water. We have dinner in an underwhelming restaurant in the Baixa district, and I feel sick after. (Also, the breads are not on the house, and they are expensive too.) Our plan to party the whole night proceeds without me. Later, everyone stumbled back to the hostel, awakening me in the process.

Today is another slow start as people are still recovering from the drunken state. Most people want to go to the beach, but because time is limited, Tommy and I go sightseeing. Sunday is the best time to sightsee because most museums offer free entry. Monday, on the other hand, is the worst time to sightsee because most things close.

We begin our sightseeing in the Bélem district west of the city, which has the biggest concentration of attraction.

Our first stop is at Jerónimos Monastery, a truly splendid 16-century Portuguese Baroque masterpiece. For those that missed the amazing Cloister and the other interiors, there is very good 360-tour here.
http://www.mosteirojeronimos.pt/english/web_mosteiro_jeronimos/html/frameset.html

Across the monastery is the Padrão dos Descobrimentos. We choose not to get to the top.

We arrive at the Torre de Bélem. We explore each level, and the stair is tight and steep.

Returning to the city center, we visit the main church, the Sé Cathedral. We visit the Cloister, but we miss the Treasury, which is disappointing because I am told it is amazing.

Form the church, we walk towards the castle. We get ourselves lost in the narrow alleys, and I really get connected with relaxed attitude of the city. We discover a spot where we have a great view of the city. The two big churches across are the Igreja e Convento (Church and Convent) ide São Vicente de Fora and Panteão Nacional (National Pantheon.) We then arrive to a spot that is across the castle…great…we are lost.

At last, we arrive at the castle as the sun subsides. Apparently, the castle now charge money for entry, so we decide to return the next day. (Many sites that are used to be complimentary now cost money.)

We rendezvous with everyone and dine later on. I choose a restaurant that serves award-winning dishes. We arrive at the door and discover it is closed…permanently. We can all blame that on the Lonely Planet guide, and we have the updated version too. At the end, we have dinner at a very nice restaurant somewhere in old town. Most people have real dinner or a salad, and Vance have ice-cream. It is getting very late, and we return to the hostel to get some sleep.
Today, Tommy and I visit the Parque das Nações where Expos 98 was held. The aquarium there is the largest in Europe. My favorite must be the sunfish.

After the aquarium, we go to the nearby shopping mall and have lunch in the food court. (How North American?!)

We return to the castle, and meet up with the others, and head back home in a non-eventful flight.

Torino

2006-02-20T00:00:00.001-08:00

Venezia

2006-02-17T00:00:00.000-08:00

This is going to be a great trip. I know it. Lindsey, Richard, Tommy, Vance, and I head to the carnival in Venezia over the weekend and then to the Torino Winter Olympics. We are accompanied by Mike, Kevin, Travis, and Tyler in Venezia, and the latter three have only one day in Venezia. We are rendezvousing with Adrienne and Jacqui in Venezia; they attend the Olympics prior to the weekend.

I call Venice and Turin by their Italian names Venezia and Torino, respectively. I love the sound of the Italian language; it has an intensity that is lacking in English, French, or German.

February 17 and 18, 2006

I am backseating this entire trip, and I have no idea about travel and accommodation details. I know, at least, that we Gleis7 and arrive to Chiasso by 2 am, S-bahn to Milano, and EuroStar Italia to Venezia. We are supposed to get off at Venezia Mestre, not Venezia Santa Lucia – the main station, because we want to check in at the hostel Hotel Belvedere first. There is a direct way to get to Venezia with SBB Click&Rail Europe – Zurich to Venezia departing at around 9 am and arrive at around 5 am, but with the hard way, we arrive at Venezia at around 9 am, which basically gives us an extra day. Believe it or not, the hard way is the more expensive way too; the total price is 48 CHF, compared to 45CHF with Click&Rail.

TrenItalia trains are mostly crap; they are dirty, late, and workplaces of beggars and thieves, but the high-speed EuroStar Italia train is a shining exception; it is easily the most luxurious train I have ever used.

Indeed, one can be so soothed by the luxury that he misses a station, and that “one” is me. I miss the Mestre station, and arrive at Santa Lucia at around 9 am. I decide to stay and wait the others to come back. I don’t want to go back to Mestre while the others are on their way to Santa Lucia, and besides, I have no hostel details.

Finally, two hours later, everyone arrive. I want to put my backpack in the station locker, but the instructions are in Italian and the price is in Lira…great. So, carrying my 30-pound baggage around Venezia it is…great.

We walk towards Piazza di San Marco. I eat a lot along the way; Tyler’s appetite is contagious. I have cappuccino, sandwiches, and a lot of gelato despite the cold air. On the street, there are many dressed in intricate carnival costumes and masks. Tommy and Vance have their face painted. Tommy buys a blue-ball hat, and Vance buys a wizard hat.

Finally, after passing through one of the tight alleys that Venezia is famous for, and we find the Piazza. The atmosphere at the Piazza is amazing; bands are playing and there are more people in extravagant costumes and masks. The number of pigeons is only eclipsed by the number of tourists. We tour the golden interior of the Basilica, which is the western counterpart of Constantinople’s Santa Sophia. There are many restrictions inside the Basilica, such as no noise (i.e. no explanations) and no photography, and the tourist path is clearly marked out (so there is no chance of exploring the church.) It is funny to see the Germans, known for their religious following of orders, breaking those rules.

We have pizza at a pizzeria; apparently the mandatory 3-euro cover per person and 15% tip are separate charges. Basically, the charges are rip-offs, but Venizia is Italy’s most expensive city (and still manages to be cheaper than Baden, Switzerland.) We also have more cappuccino and gelato down the street of the pizzeria. We buy masks for the celebration in the night back at the Piazza.

I avoid drinking with my friends because I can’t be drunk and still carry the extra 30-pound on my back. Suddenly, it starts raining, and we seek shelter beneath the canopy. Once it stops raining, we return to the Piazza and match with a band. After the band match, almost everyone is drunk and has a taste of Tommy’s balls. Some people also deep throat Tyler’s nose. Lindsey wants to get (fill in the blank), and Travis wants to touch the sea. Overall, everyone is all over the place.

Tommy (naturally) meets a girl and gives her a rose that some dud has given him. The girl is leading us to a club that she has visited the day before, and after a two-hour walk through the maze of Venezia, I choose not to follow them anymore because of my backpack, and I return to the hostel with Mike.

After having almost no sleep for more than 24 hours, the hostel provides the must needed rest, despite it is a hellhole.

February 19, 2006

Today, Adrienne, Jacqui, Mike, Richard, Vance, and I do more sightseeing by boat, or “water bus.” (Lindsey has a shopping list to fulfill, and Kevin, Travis, and Tyler meet up with Nate in Torino, and Tommy finally returns to the hostel.) For a landlocked Calgarian boy, it is always an occasion to be on a boat, and boy, it is an amazing occasion to be on a boat in Venizia! Unfortunately, the boat is much too wide to fit into the small canals: instead, the gondola is the transport of choice in the canals.

The most exciting moment on the boat is when we approach the Chiesa di Santa Maria della Salute, whose white dome dominates the floating skyline of Venezia.

We disembark at the Piazza and meet up with Lindsey and Tommy. I purchase some gifts. One has to compare prices because they are different for the exact same items.

We use our one-day transportation pass to go to Murano, an island known for glass crafts. As we get off the boat, people of the gas factory round us up to see the demonstration. We purchase some glass pieces, which are rip-offs because two blocks down the street the pieces are much cheaper (i.e. 10-euro vs. 2-euro.)

Everyone is tired, and Murano is quite boring after an hour or so. We return to Venezia and have dinner in a restaurant, which serve good food at reasonable prices. I have pasta with scallops and a gelato ball with coffee syrup filling. In addition, we share white wine. After dinner, we return to the Piazza. Today, the Piazza is calm compared to the exhilaration of last night. We chill and return to the hostel to prepare for the Olympics tomorrow.

München, Paris, Praha, Roma, and Wien are all splendid cities, but Venezia, Queen of the Seas, is easily the fairest. No city other than Venezia possesses the beauty that makes my heart race. It is hard not to fall in love with Venizia; her seduction is effortless, but no effect can resist her seduction.

Paris

2005-10-15T11:01:00.001-07:00

France loves splendor, and in Paris, everywhere is excess splendor. With great buildings and monuments lining the streets, it is not difficult to miss something huge like le Palais Royal across le Louvre.

Today, we visited Versailles. Versailles is not just a palace; it is a city of monarchs. The palace, or le Château de Versailles, is only one building among many. Inside the palace, we walk through the galleries; each extravagantly decorated and furnished. The palace display priceless antiques and artworks; paintings proudly recall the divinity of the monarchs and military victories of France. Unfortunately (yet no longer surprising), half of the Hall of Mirrors is closed for renovation.

While the palace impresses, it is the garden that takes my breath away. Between the smaller residences, we walk beneath the shades of towering trees precisely aligned and manicured. The heat of the sun is cooled by the soft wind. In the heart of the garden, a manmade pond stretches in four directions like a crucifix. The water is so steady, looking like an endless mirror reflecting off the sun. Then, out of nowhere, a canoe passes by, creating ripples that scatter blinding rays in all directions.

In the evening, by the river that separates us from the Notre-Dame, we eat supper and watch lovers, hand-in-hand, stroll by, not concerning the world around them.

At night, we visit la Tour Eiffel. I arrive just in time for the tower to begin sparking. Beneath the flicking lights of the Eiffel Tower, the air of romance is intoxicating. Despite not being here with a lover, being here in the company of friends remains a moment to be treasured.

The next day, we visit le Musée du Louvre. Needless to say, the Louvre houses an impressive art collection that includes Portrait of Lisa Gherardini, Winged Victory of Samothrace, Aphrodite of Melos, and my favorite, Antonio Canova’s Psyche Revived by the Kiss of Cupid. Amidst the herd of tourists are Parisian youths making skillful sketches of masterpieces. The Louvre is in itself an architectural delight. The complex has undergone great transformations from a fortress to a palace to a modern museum. Naturally, the masterpieces are thematically grouped, and each gallery is designed to complement the masterpieces it houses. The result is harmony in each gallery, and contrasts between galleries. What I personally dislike is Napoleon III’s apartment; such suffocating red and gold grandiosity is tasteless.

In the evening, we visit the la Cathédrale Notre-Dame d'Amiens during mass. The dark, imposing interior in addition to the haunting organ exemplifies an atmosphere as enchanting as it is solemn. The church demands reverence.

After dinner (Chinese buffet), from the front of le Moulin Rouge, we pass by the red light district to la Cathédrale Sacré-Coeur, a magnificent white domed cathedral on top of a hill above the city like a glowing pearl magically suspended midair. On the stair, I relax with friends, listen to Parisian youths playing the guitar, and admire the skylines of the City of Lights.

The next day, I visit le Arc de Triomphe, which faces the Louvre on one side, la Défense on the other. The biggest traffic circle circles the Arch of Triumph; luckily, I don’t have to run across it, as there is an underground path. (Actually, I have to resist the urge to run. Bungee jumping has really increased my courage!)

We continue to La Défence, which is surprisingly a delight. Le Grande Arche and other ultra-futuristic sky rises are not what I expected of Paris. (Actually, La Défence is not within Paris.) We rest on the steps before le Grande Arche, watching people in suits purposefully walking in four directions under the sky rises. It was almost the Matrix.
Coming back from La Défense, we walk past le Palais Royal, which is adjacent to the Louvre and stealthy blends with the rich surroundings, and arrive at Les Invalides, which is where the still-revered Napoleon I is buried.

We continue on towards the Eiffel Tower. I walk up the laborious steps, feeling the uneasy crosswinds, and see the splendor of Paris one last time in 360°.

Paris and splendor is like Cupid and Psyche; the pairs are inseparable. No worldly or mystical adversities can drive them apart; one simply can’t exist without the other. Without soul is without love, and without splendor is without Paris.

Rome

2005-07-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

Italy is addictive; every time I return from there I suffer from withdraw. I have visited Cinque Terra and Bologna, but I have barely seen the country. Must-sees include Caprice, Florence, Milan, Naples, Pisa, Rome, Turin, Venice, and Verona. The list is ambitious, and I probably can’t visit all these places thoroughly during my stay in Europe, but at least I can now cross off Rome from the list.

Rome. Roma. Amor. Rome mirrors love, and I love Rome. The eternal city was unlike other cities I visited; in fact, it was a world of its own. I had only three and a half days in Rome, and every second of the trip was a moment treasured.

Thursday, July 21, 2005
Day 1: Introduction to Pub-Crawling

I traveled with Jacqui, Richard, Tommy, Vance, Charles (Luxembourger), and Ed (Englander). We departed with EasyJet from the Basel EuroAirport and arrived at the Rome Ciampino Airport. (There are two main airports in Rome. The Ciampino serves chartered flights, like the ones offered by EasyJet, and the Leonardo di Vinci serves scheduled flights, like the ones offered by Swiss.)

Once we left the plane, the Roman summer heat was evident. From the airport, we took a bus to a subway station (forgot its name), and from there we went to the Termini Station where our hostel Guy’s Paradise was located nearby. The Roman public transportation system was chaotic; it was inferior to the Swiss system by all measures.

Before I describe Rome, I have to describe the hostel.

There are many definitions of the word "paradise," but I am certain filthy, smoky, tight rooms don’t fit any of them. As soon as we stepped into the hostel for check-in, we were greeted with a "Want a beer?" (Our not so cheaply priced accommodation included cheap beer, cheap wine, cheap breakfast, and cheap dinner.) If alcohol makes ugly people pretty, then the same can be applied to buildings, right? At least the hostel thought so. By the way, I got sick from eating the hostel food. Perhaps the alcohol was meant to cleanse the food. Instead of getting food poisoning, I could get alcohol poisoning…great. I avoided being at the hostel, which might as well because there were so many things I planned to see in Rome.

It was late by the time we checked-in. We joined a pub-crawl. It was my first pub-crawl, but it wouldn’t be my last. The pub-crawl included a short walking tour, and the most memorable sights were the Triton Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and the Trevi Fountain. We then visited four clubs and pubs. On our way to the last pub we passed by the grandiose Victor Emmanuel II monument (that was fondly nicknamed the Typewriter or the Wedding Cake.) I couldn’t enjoy the night as much as I should because I was poisoned by the hostel. We finished the night sometime between 3 and 4am.

Friday, July 22, 2005
Day 2: Vatican

I was wakened by the chaotic Roman traffic at around 6 or 7. (In Rome, the word "chaotic" often recalled itself.)

Today we joined the Vatican tour. The Vatican, as we all should know, is its own country. (Now, do you know the other country inside Italy?) Interestingly, the Vatican uses the Swiss Post, which is a good choice considered how chaotic most Italian systems are. (See, I used "chaotic" again.) Also, the Vatican guards are Swiss Guards, which are elite soldiers of the Swiss Army.

We crossed the Bridge of Angels (with each angle depicting the passion, or the suffering, of Christ) into the Vatican, and we visited the St. Peter’s Basilica. Architecturally, St. Peter’s Basilica is astonishing. Its balanced proportion masks its formidable size, and one has to pay attention to the smaller details like the man-height letters and door-handles to be truly astonished by the shear magnitude. The Dome, designed by Michelangelo himself, is epic and takes its place in the Roman sky; it is the crown of St. Peter’s tomb and the Catholic faith. The interior is meticulously decorated with mosaics and sculptures, and houses the lavish tombs of past popes. These treasures are the masterpieces of some of the West’s most revered artists. The most amazing item was the Bernini-designed bronze Papal Alter and Baldacchino that was built above St. Peter’s tomb and beneath the Dome. All minute details of the basilica have a meaning behind it, even the aforementioned door handles. A proper guide to the St. Peter’s Basilica can be found here.
http://www.stpetersbasilica.org/

The Vatican Museum houses a collection so enormous that it is impossible to see everything in one year, let alone one hour or so. We passed by some of the more important exhibits and visited the Sistine Chapel. Being inside and seeing masterpieces like the Creation and the Last Judgement by Michelangelo and the Handing over of the Keys by Perugino for the first time in person was a divine experience. Naturally, there were guards hushing the tourists who could not control their enthusiasm. It was unfortunate that I had so little time in the museum, and now I regret very much that I didn’t abandon the group to see more of the museum. Joining a tour is educational, but it is also very condensed. After looking at the Vatican Museum website, I can safely say that I saw less than one percent of the collection. I will probably return, and I will spend a day there. By the way, a good virtual guide of the museum can be found here. (The photos do not have pesky tourists like me in them too!)
http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/MV_Home.html

After dinner, we went on to the same pub-crawl as the previous night. (Yay! I didn’t get sick, so I must have developed immunity to the hostel food.) This time, however, there were much more people, and the fun factor correspondingly increased. We partied until 4 or 5am, and the details near the end of that night were hazy, but I was told by the tour guide and Vance that I had "a lot of fun"…great.

Saturday, July 23, 2005
Day 3: Ancient Rome

I managed to get up early at around seven, so probably I had less than three hours of sleep. I guess I couldn’t sleep in those hostel beds. I didn’t even want to think about all the body fluids soaked up by the mattress over its decades of service, and how I was only protected by one thin bed sheet that was not mine.

Today we joined the Ancient Roman tour. The tour began in the afternoon, so Charles, Ed, Jacqui, and I visited the shopping districts. Both Charles and Ed got shirts that were made in Italy, naturally. Before the tour we had lunch. For six euros I got a whole pizza that could feed three people! At first, I thought I was getting a slice, and finishing it was a poor decision. (I shouldn’t have celebrated not-getting-sick-from-food so soon.)

We rendezvoused with Richard, Tommy, and Vance at Palatine. Despite in ruins, Ancient Rome still impresses. We began at the Circus Maximus, which was a horseracing ground. There is nothing much to see now, but in the past it was decorated with fountains, statues, and obelisks, and there were two temples – one with seven dolphins and one with seven eggs. With the completion of each lap, a dolphin and an egg would be removed to indicate the number of laps remaining. Many ancient Roman buildings and monuments were destroyed by looting. It was eerie to stand before the barren land that was once the Circus Maximus; I found it hard to fathom how civilizations that took so much hardship to build can be eradicated so casually. (Of course, the Romans built their civilization by eradicating other civilizations; that was/is how the world worked.) Across Circus Maximus was Palatine where Roman emperors lived. We also passed by the Jewish Quarter, the Pantheon, the Pompey's Theater where Julius Caesar was murdered (the spot directly under a bus stop), the Forum, and, finally, the Coliseum.

After dinner, everyone went pub-crawling for the third time, but I didn’t go because my liver and wallet could no longer handle alcohol. Earlier today I met a girl from Hong Kong, and we walked around Rome in the night. I brought her to all the places I saw to on the first pub-crawl and walked past some prestigious stores. At the Trevi Fountain, I threw in two coins. It is said that with the first coin you will return to Rome safety, with the second you will find love in Rome, and with the third coin you will get married in Rome. I made up my own wishes, however, which is allowed according to Encarta. The night was relaxing and non-liver-damaging. It was too bad, however, that I missed Tommy getting sired by an English vampire.

Sunday, July 24, 2005
Day 4: Last Day

On our last day in Rome, we visited the Palatine and the inside of the Coliseum. We lost Richard and Vance once we exited from the subway station. The lineup for buying the tickets to get inside the Coliseum was very long at the Coliseum entry, so we brought the tickets at the Palatine entry. We first toured the Palatine, and had lunch in a restaurant called Massenzio. I had very good pasta. (I didn’t order pizza like everyone else because of my pizza incident yesterday.) We continued into the Coliseum, which was smaller than I imagined but still very impressive nonetheless.

Despite my determination of not loosing the group, I lost everyone near the exit. I am blaming it on my Asian-camera-happy way. I walked around the grounds of Coliseum, and visited the Arch of Constantine, a nearby church, and the Forum. The three or four hours disappeared quickly, and unwillingly I hurried back to the hostel only to find out nobody was there as planned. (We decided beforehand to go to the airport together.) I went to the Termini Station to get an orange juice, and when I returned, Richard and Vance were there.

From here on, a series of disasters unfolded. The group that lost me and went swimming had not returned yet. When they returned, it was quite late. We took the subway to the bus station where we could catch a bus to the airport, but the bus never came. (Each of the buses has a dolphine emblem that probably refers to the dolphines at the Circus Maximus.) We were getting very desperate as our check-in time drew closer, and we were willing to take a taxi, which would be expensive. Later, we were told there was a bomb threat at the airport, and so no one could enter or leave the area. I was told that an airplane destined to Leonardo di Vinci carried a bomb, and it was diverted to Ciampino – the ghetto airport. Moments later, however, the bus arrived, which signaled all was clear. (The bomb threat was apparently a prank call.)

The airport was in chaos. There were policemen and soldiers everywhere, and many passengers were stranded. Hours later, however, many flights departed, but ours was cancelled. EasyJet was going to assign the passengers on the cancelled flight onto later flights, so it was unknown when we could go home. There were two EasyJet girls standing in front of a small staircase frantically receiving and reorganizing flight plans. I felt bad for them because everyone was frustrated, and it looked like their boss sent them to the wolves. We were waiting in the food court, but we were expelled because it was closing hour…great. The airport and EasyJet were unprepared for crisis like this, and they didn’t even try to provide any assistance. We were debating on methods of getting home, which included car rental and train. The train was more realistic, so we got on the airport bus and returned to the Termini station.

Monday, July 25, 2005
Day 5: Journey Home

We knew that there was no way we could make it to work on Monday. It was past midnight already. Amidst of all the anger, frustration, and despondency, we were delighted that there was a train to Milan, and from there we could cross the border onto Swiss soil. Everyone bought the tickets, but unfortunately it was not that easy. The train did not depart from the Termini Station, but from another smaller station in Rome, so we had to wait for another city bus to get there. By now, I really appreciate how good the Swiss public transport is; unlike the Italian buses that come whenever they want, the Swiss buses have a schedule. Anyway, we arrived to the correct train station, jumped onto the train, and our eight-hour journey to Milan via Bologna began. The journey home is never too long.

Italian trains vary in quality. Some are quite comfortable; they have air condition and spacious seats. Other ones are ghettos in rolling tin boxes filled with very interesting people that fit the stereotypes of greasy Italians whose hobby and work are both petty crimes. Ours was the latter. The cars had only six-person carbines; yet, none of them had six people. Each person took up more than one sit by putting feet onto the opposite chair. We couldn’t find seats, so we had to stay in the hallway. Luckily, there were small seats that could be unfolded from the wall, but they were very small and uncomfortable. There were constantly people passing us by, so it was impossible to sleep. It was safer not to sleep; the interesting people on the train were interested in us too, but they were probably more interested in our belongings. I took care to ensure everything of mine was secured.

When the train stopped at Bologna, many passengers got off. Two Italian men swiftly unscrewed the windowsills, removed the curtains, and dashed off. We were amused and dumbfounded, and we agreed staying up to guard our belongings was worth the fatigue.

A few more hours later, we arrived at Milan being dirty and sweaty like all other passengers. At Milan, we bought tickets to Lugano. We decided that there would be trains from Lugano to Zurich, and from Zurich we could get on a train to home. Once in Lugano, however, Richard and I decided to stay. The ticket to Zurich, even with the Half Price card, was too expensive. We decided to wait until 7pm when we can travel free with our Gleis7 card, and until then, we would be doing some sightseeing. Indeed, we were tired, but we were also running out of money. Furthermore, because we were going to miss a day of work anyway, we might as well do more stuff.

Lugano is a city in Ticino, which is the Italian-speaking canton of Switzerland. The city is built on a slope around a lake, and the view was mesmerizing. After all the bewilderment of Rome, the city provided a nice break. It is fun to partying with abandon across the borders sometimes, but I pick living in serenity any day.

After having dinner at a Manora restaurant, we caught a train to Zurich, and from there we returned home at last. My Rome trip was by far the most fun and memorable, and looking back it was the misfortunes that made this trip so exciting.

Bologna

2005-06-24T10:54:00.000-07:00

Friday, June 24, 2005

This weekend, Henry and I visited Bologna. Henry has relatives there, and he invited me to stay with them. We departed from Zurich at around 11pm on an EuroNight couchette train. Our berths were in different compartments because we booked our tickets separately. (Peculiarly, my fare was cheaper than his.) I was in a compartment with three Americans and one Italian. A conductor collected my passport and tickets; I was nervous because I was inexperienced with such a process. I questioned their legitimacy. I was naïve but not careless.

When I was half asleep, two conductors came to my compartment and told me my fare excludes boarder crossing at Chiasso, which would explain why I paid less than what Henry paid. (However, this was not the case.) Nonetheless, it was not my fault that the "expert" at the SBB office planned my trip as such, and it was certainly not my intention to cheat. I told the conductors the tickets were all I had. In instinctive response, one of them printed out a 160-franc ticket, and when I said I had no money, he said I could pay in euros. Great. I reasoned with them, but they refused to listen. I was very much prepared to argue all the way to Bologna, but after half-an-hour of commotion, it turned out they wanted to see my Track 7 card. They should ask for it before they pressured me in the truest of mafia style to pay 160 francs. (In Europe, the customer is always wrong. Apparently, this ensures fairness.) I was happy that I won despite it was only a misunderstanding. I returned to sleep.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

I was again stirred by a conductor. As I was about to unleash my wrath upon him, he informed me we were approaching Bologna. He returned my passport and tickets and gave me a small breakfast comprised a lemon cream croissant, biscuits, and an orange juice box.

We arrived at around 6 instead of 5am. It was not the first time a Swiss train become late in Italy; perhaps the Swiss train was trailing a late Italian train. On the platform, I rendezvoused with Henry and met his uncle. He drove us to his house in a suburb outside Bologna. On the way to the house, we passed by many red buildings, which was befitting for a city known for its affinity to communism. At the house, Henry’s aunt greeted us. (Henry’s uncle is a Bolognese, and Henry’s aunt is a Hong Konger.)

At first, it was awkward to be with Henry’s relatives. It felt like I, not Henry, invited myself. The awkwardness quickly subsided because Henry’s relatives were easy to get along with. Henry’s aunt led us to our sleeping quarters; I slept on the office floor while Henry slept on his cousin’s bed. Once we finished unpacking, we had bread and espresso.

Background: Bologna is the capital of the Emilia Romagna province. The region is heavily industrialized. Bologna is known for arches, cars, gastronomy, and scholarship. (The University of Bologna was established as a law school in 425AD, which makes it the oldest university in Europe.)

Henry’s relatives didn’t share our fascination for Bologna because they lived there for decades. They had trouble choosing an interesting place to take us to when all we wanted was to walk around the city by ourselves. Yet, they didn’t allow that because they think we would get lost. At the end, because boys like cars, they took us to the nearby town Maranello, which is the home of Ferrari. (Lamborghini is in Bologna, but we didn’t go there.)

On our way to Maranello, we passed by many factories and villas. Once at Maranello, we window-shopped in the Ferrari Store, and all items were overpriced like real Ferrari cars. We continued to the Ferrari Museum, which featured almost all significant Ferrari race and road cars from the past to the present. It was possible to approach the old F1 cars and to thoroughly study their components. There was a lot to see in the museum, but we stayed for only an hour. As we were leaving Maranello, I saw a covered Ferrari prototype leaving the front gate of the new Ferrari wind tunnel.

Back in the house, we ate the pasta that Henry’s aunt prepared in the morning. I also drank the red wine that Henry’s uncle bottled. The red wine was excellent.

In the afternoon, we toured the downtown by foot. The Piazza Maggiore and the Piazza del Nettuno (which were adjacent to each other) were where the public library, the Neptune fountain, and St. Petronius’s Basilica were located.

The library was used to be the Bologna Stock Exchange. It was built over ancient ruins, and its floor was glass to reveal the underneath.

The Neptune fountain comically featured female sculptures with functional breasts, and Neptune’s trident inspired the symbol of Maserati, which is another locally founded sports car marque. (Maserati is now located in the nearby town of Modena.)

St. Petronius’s Basilica was immense; it would eclipse St. Peter’s Basilica in size so the Vatican halted its construction. Inside the church was a painting called Heaven and Hell, and in Hell was Mohammad tormented by demons. In 2002, al-Qa'eda terrorists plotted to destroy the church but the police foiled their plan. We continued to the town hall; it had a grand stair that led up to the city’s collections. (In the past, a person of importance would climb the stairs on horseback.)

We left the squares and took a stroll in the shopping district. The tiles on the walkway were exquisitely arranged, and they were amazingly hundreds of years old. (Most buildings in downtown Bologna were hundreds of years old.) We also saw the leaning towers of Bologna that were built by rival nobles in the 1100’s. We also saw the Pope’s Bolognese residence.

After a long day, we returned to the house for dinner, and we had steaks and more wine.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

I got up at 8am today. While Henry was attending mass, his uncle took me on an amazing bike tour in the countryside. We passed by farms, orchards, wheat fields, and, naturally, vineyards. The farmhouses, hundreds of years old, stood defiantly against the element. Far away to the horizon were rectangular fields of grass and wheat arranged adjacently to each other; their contrasting green and yellow shimmered beneath the sun in the cloudless blue sky. The scenery was dreamy, and it reminded me of Maximus’s vision of home in Gladiator.

I enjoyed Bologna. However, it was a shame that I didn’t see more of Bologna, especially the famous university. I like Henry’s relatives, and I appreciate their generous hospitality.

Cinque Terre

2005-05-26T07:22:00.000-07:00

In the Cinque Terre, we stay in Riomaggiore, the most southeastern town of the five. Our hotel is an apartment, offering a glimpse into the local lifestyle. Its raw exterior hides its refined interior, a rare gem for us.

It is late when we check in. For dinner, we have facaccia and pizza. We walk down the main stone street towards the sea, feeling the unevenness through the soles of my shoes. The ruggedness and laws protected the Cinque Terra from over-development, preventing it from being an “all inclusive” resort for mass tourism. The locals carry on their casual lives, seemingly unaffected by tourism. They hang clothes, even the most intimate ones, outside the balconies like flags and yell conversations across the street in zeal. The air vibrates with energy, and the smell of delicious food creeps in everywhere.

We lie down on the rocks, listen to the waves, and watch the sun give way to the moon and stars. Mike can’t wait to dive right into the water. We drink the local wines and lemoncino, a wine made from lemon peels. In Cinque Terre, such small events yield great pleasures. Soon, darkness is everywhere. Liquors, sharp rocks, and steep stairs make a deadly cocktail, and it is a good thing that Victor accompanies me back to the hotel.

The next day, after facaccia in the morning, we hike up north. The 8 km hike takes us past all four towns: Manorola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso, respectively. The path between Riomaggiorie and Manarola is easy as the path is paved with flat stone tiles. As we progress, however, the path becomes increasingly more difficult, and the heat from the relentless sun doesn’t help. When we arrive at each town, we sample the gelato and depart for the next. Every departure a conquest, every arrival a triumph.

The greatest challenge begins before the entrance of Corniglia; we climb up hundreds of steps up the hill into the town. From there lie even more difficulties as the path towards Vernazza and Monterosso becomes narrower, rockier, and steeper. Being inexperienced with hiking, wearing sneakers is a bad choice. Yet, hiking along the path up the hills is so rewarding; every step up gives a better view of the town we leave behind and intensifies the anticipation of the town we approach. Near the end of the path, we pass by beautifully manicured yet practical lemon farms and vineyards that appear to be suspended above the sea. Needless to say, the view of the shimmering sapphire sea is out of this world.

Finally, we arrive at Monterosso. There is a public beach, and being so hot and sweaty, I can’t wait to jump right in. I change and swim out towards the rocks just across the beach. Never in my life I swim so far from land, and at the rocks are sea urchins, so I watch my steps. We relax on the rocks, soothed by the sound of the waves, softness of the zephyr, and the warmth of the sun, and I do not want to return.

To celebrate our triumph over the land and the sea, we have an elaborate dinner. Seafood, naturally. I have a squid ink pasta with clams, crabs, and shrimps, and a peculiar crustacean called Bati Bati, something I have never seen or heard of before. The Bati Bati looks like a lobster tail, except the tail has eyes and mouth. It doesn’t matter what it is; the pasta is absolutely sumptuous.

Today, our last day, we return to Monterosso, but by train. Mike, Tommy, Vance, and I rent a paddleboat for an hour. We take turns paddling, but I enjoy being paddled and wash my feet in the seawater. Mike and Vance, being ever so daring, park the boat by a rock, climb up, and dive down. I have no courage to follow; as much as I like seafood, I have little intention of being one. We paddle further outward, far away from the rocky beach of Monterosso, and we relax, enjoying our time in the Mediterranean.

In the evening, we have dinner in a restaurant. Our table is in a patio facing the sea. I have seafood spaghetti, and we share wine.

We return to rocks at Riomaggiore for another night of star glazing. We meet many tourists, mostly from America.

The next morning, we return home. Our vacation in the Cinque Terre offers unexpected pleasures. A charming accommodation, delectable gastronomies, elevating hikes and swims, and, above all, a beautiful, underdeveloped surrounding make this area an ideal escape. The Cinque Terra is not so much a tourist destination as it is a lifestyle destination. There are no great buildings and monuments to be seen, just water and land; here, one relaxes and leaves the troubles of the world behind. It is a good thing that the ruggedness and the law prohibit development. Those that like Cinque Terre like it the way it is, and to me, it is paradise.