Tag: Italy

Our last ten days in Italy were spent visiting beautiful Siena and the surrounding villages in the picturesque Tuscan countryside, immersing ourselves in the culture of Florence and Pisa and exploring the stunning natural landscape of the Cinque Terre.

Siena

The sun was shining when we arrived in Siena and our campsite was a sheltered suntrap. After the cold of Rome and Assisi Andrew wasted no time whipping his shirt off and catching some much-missed rays. There was no chance of getting him to do anything, so I headed off for a walk on my own and found myself across the valley and walking up the steep cobbled streets shaded by the sheer walls of the tall stone buildings of historic Siena. The narrow streets and tall buildings made it difficult to get my bearings and after wandering around for a while confused, I decided not to attempt to unwrap this city any further and instead leave it as a surprise for when Andrew was with me.

The next day, after a slow start, we went on an organised tour to discover the Tuscan countryside and sample some of the famous Chianti wines. It was just us and an American couple on the tour. Our first stop was the tiny hilltop village of Monteriggioni, one of the most intact medieval fortified villages in Italy. 570 metres of stone walls follow the contours of the slopes and protect a cluster of quaint medieval houses, piazzas and churches. It is now mostly a tourist attraction and there are plenty of shops selling local wine and souvenirs. Being so tiny it didn’t take us long to see the entire town and we were soon back in the mini-van winding through vineyards, fields, and forests, home to the infamous Tuscan wild boars, and towards our next destination – San Gimignano.

In the age of the Renaissance Tuscany was one of the richest and most powerful parts of the world and in San Gimignano wealthy merchant families competed against each other to see who could build the tallest tower. This pursuit resulted in the skyline of San Gimignano resembling a medieval Manhattan. There were 72 towers during the peak of the trend of which only 15 remain, but 15 is still a lot in a small town. Of course, I was keen to get to the top of one of these towers. The view from Torre Grossa was spectacular. Tuscany is every bit as beautiful as I imagined. Back on the ground we wandered through the narrow alleyways, admired the frescoes in the cathedral, sat by the well in Piazza della Cisterna, and browsed in the stores selling saffron, wild boar prosciutto and precious Santa Fina pottery. By the time our guide was driving us down the hill the sun was starting to wane in the sky. We had one final stop, a winery in the heart of Chianti. We were ushered into a private room by the larger than life hostess and seated at a table laden with glasses. A platter of bruschetta, cheeses, Tuscan salami, and sliced cold meats was placed in front of each of us and the first wine was poured. We tasted eight wines in total and five olive oils, finishing with traditional Cantucci di Prato biscuits dipped in a honey-like dessert wine. Glowing and sated we were delivered back to the campsite.

Our final day in Siena was the first time we went into the historic centre of the city and we had saved the best for last. Siena is truly beautiful – a perfectly intact Medieval city sprawled over a hill and surrounded by olive groves and fields. The undulating cobbled lanes wind up and down and around, making navigation almost impossible.  Finally, we stumbled out into the magnificent Piazza del Campo, the fan like, sloping, central square. Unlike most central squares in Europe it isn’t a cathedral that takes centre stage here, but instead the Palazzo Pubblico, the Gothic town hall, and Torre del Mangia, a slender 14^th century red-brick tower capped in white. Yes, another tower for me to climb. Andrew sat this one out, relaxing by the Fountain of Joy while I trotted off up 400 steps for another incredible view. Piazza del Campo is famous for a twice-yearly bare-back horse race. Incredibly horses are raced around the square on the cobbles while their riders try not to slip off their backs as they hurtle around tight turns while a crowd of thousands of cheers them on. We were pleased we were not there to witness this as to us it seems cruel to make horses gallop on cobbles and in such a tight area, the thought of an accident would be unbearable. But, Siena is proud of this race and photos, paintings and sculptures of it are everywhere.

Not far from Piazza del Campo is the cathedral, sitting on the highest point of the city and visible for miles. The dramatic exterior of black and white stripes is truly over the top and inside is just as lavish, filled with mosaics, frescoes and statues by famous artists including Michelangelo.

Siena is a city for pedestrians and we happily wandered for hours soaking up the atmosphere and enjoying the feeling of stepping back in time. We finished our day in one of the many gourmet food shops, purchasing some Sienese delicacies to take on our journey.

San Gimignano, Tuscany

Towers in San Gimignano

Well trained Wild Boar

Wine tasting in Chianti

Palazzo Pubblico, Siena

View over Siena from Torre del Mangia

Piazza del Campo

Florence & Pisa

Spring had finally arrived, and the lovely weather continued for the three days we spent in Florence. Our campsite was next to the river Arno and only a short bike ride into the centre – it was the first time our bikes had been used since we left Spain. Biking into the city we passed a parking lot filled with tour buses and in the city itself there was bus after bus picking up and dropping off tour groups. The summer peak might have been still months away, but the city was bustling with visitors.

Florence is the home of Renaissance art and architecture and even though I had visited before I hadn’t been to the famous Uffizi Gallery so that was top of the list for me. The Uffizi Gallery is one of the most visited art galleries in the world and remembering the queues from the last time I was there I had pre-booked tickets online. It was well worth doing so as the queues were still long despite being the shoulder season. Inside the gallery my university art history papers came alive before my eyes. Masterpiece after masterpiece lined the walls: The magnificent gilded religious panels including the Orgnissanti Madonna by Giotto; Botticelli’s sumptuous Birth of Venus and La Primavera; the intense colours in Michelangelo’s Doni Tondo; the intricate portrayal of nature in Leonardo Da Vinci’s Annunciation; the curvaceous Venus staring seductively out from Titian’s Venus of Urbino; the horror on the face of Medusa in Caravaggio’s famous depiction; and the gruesome beheading  of Holofernes in Artemisia Gentileschi’s Judith and Holofernes. It was a sensory overload.

The rest of our time in Florence was spent doing what we enjoy most, blissfully wandering the streets. We admired the iconic Duomo and neighbouring bell tower by Giotto, browsed through the jewellery stores that line the Ponte Vecchio bridge, bought me an early birthday present of a leather handbag and wallet from the leather market, watched swarms of tourists photograph the replica of Michelangelo’s statue of David outside Palazzo Vecchio in Piazza della Signoria, then joined the throng and took our own photos, and studied the many other sculptures standing in Loggia dei Lanzi. Our visit was completed with a climb up to Piazzale Michelangelo for expansive views of Florence and the river Arno.

We headed off from Florence but couldn’t leave Tuscany without visiting Pisa. Pisa lies near the mouth of the river Arno and was once a maritime powerhouse, but now is known for a tower – the iconic white marble cylinder that is the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We found a place to park the campervan and walked a couple of kilometres to the tower. We have both been to Pisa before and the last time I was there the place was overrun with beggars and hustlers trying to sell tower keyrings – it wasn’t pleasant. However, maybe because it wasn’t peak season, this time there were no beggars and the street hawkers were all standing behind their stalls. It was a much more enjoyable experience. We joined the rest of the tourists and took obligatory photos pretending to push the tower over.  Aside from posing for funny photos, the architecture of the tower is fantastic, and the six rows of stone arches are simply beautiful. Behind the tower is the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta. The front façade of the 11^th century cathedral is truly ornate with a series of beautiful stone and marble arches and three opulent bronze doors. We had made the right decision to visit again and we went away with a much more positive perception of Pisa.

Florence

Ponte Vecchio

Duomo

Michelangelo’s statue of David outside Palazzo Vecchio

Pisa

Cinque Terre

A while ago Andrew asked me what I’d like to do for my birthday and I told him I’d like to walk the Cinque Terre in Italy. Cinque Terre is a string of centuries-old seaside villages on the rugged Italian Riviera coastline. The five villages are linked by the Sentiero Azzurro cliffside hiking trail and from the photos I’d seen the views looked magnificent. So, we’d timed our trip up Italy to make sure we got to Cinque Terre for my birthday. I’d been watching the weather carefully and the closer we got to the date the worse the weather looked. We’d already booked a hotel in Vernazza, one of five villages, so we had to go regardless of the weather.

Our campsite was in Sestri Levante, 45 kilometres from the Cinque Terre, but close to a train station giving us easy access to the start of the walk. The night we arrived it rained heavily and although it had stopped the next morning, my birthday, the sky was still very dark. We wrapped up warmly, packed our backpacks with what we needed for our overnight stay and set off for the train station.

We got off the train at the northernmost village, Monterosso, and were told the walking track was temporarily closed because of the weather and an entire section was closed indefinitely because of a slip. I had read a blog that said you can still walk the track if it’s closed, there’s just no one at the checkpoint to stamp your hiking pass which means you save 7.50 euro. The rain had started again so we decided to have a look around Monterosso while we worked out what we were going to do. The pretty village with quaint lanes and bright orange and pink buildings was lovely but the rain got heavier. It wouldn’t have been pleasant walking in those conditions and we gave up the idea of attempting the hike that day, finding a restaurant and enjoying a nice birthday lunch instead.

After lunch we caught the Cinque Terre train to the next village, Vernazza where our accommodation was booked. We checked into our cute studio apartment in a pink stucco townhouse, where our enthusiastic host told us how much he loves New Zealand. The rain had stopped by then, and we went off to explore. My disappointment at not getting to walk the trail was slowly fading and this adorable seaside village was helping. Vernazza is known as the most beautiful of the five villages. 450 people live in this tiny village that sits snuggly in a cove at the bottom of steep slopes covered with rustic vineyards and terraced gardens. The sea was rough and slapped angrily against a concrete wall built to shelter wooden fishing boats from the elements. A small river runs through the middle of Vernazza and photos on a wall show of a devastating flood that ripped through the town in 2011.  We climbed up to an old stone castle perched on an outcrop above the town and looked out over the medley of brightly coloured buildings and along the rugged coastline.

That evening we went out for my birthday dinner, choosing a hip looking eatery with a simple menu of local cuisine. It was stunning. We shared gnocchi with pesto for entrée and for my main I had the Baccala in cartoccio di vetro (cod in a glass package), which was beautifully delicate cod steamed with herbs and baby potatoes. Andrew had homemade ravioli with spinach and cheese. The food was lovely – simple, elegant flavours – and the local wine superb. The perfect end to a great birthday, despite not entirely going to plan.

The next morning was dry and as the forecast was for more rain we decided to get underway quickly and start the 4km walk from Vernazza to Corniglia. The track was still closed but we didn’t let that stop us, and we weren’t alone, others were also starting out.  This is the hardest of the four sections of the Cinque Terre trail and climbs to the highest point, but it wasn’t difficult. The track wound up the slopes and along cliffs through the bush and then up to a small cluster of houses before descending into Corniglia. We struck up a conversation with an Australian couple who were walking in front of us, they were on a 3-month tour of Europe travelling by train.

Corniglia sits 100 metres above the sea and like Monterosso and Vernazza is filled with brightly coloured houses and cute nooks and crannies, but with a population of just 150 people it is a lot smaller. From Corniglia we could see Manarola, the 4^th village along the coast. The track between Corniglia and Manarola is the section closed by the slip, but it’s only 2km long and flat so we weren’t too worried about missing that section. We decided instead to catch the train back to Vernazza and walk north from Vernazza to Monterosso. Apart from a brief downpour the weather was holding up.

Back in Vernazza we refuelled with a focaccia sandwich and then climbed the steep path out town, this time heading north. This section of the trail is also 4km long and quite steep, but unlike the first section this track mostly runs through farmland, vineyards and orchards. The sun was shining by now and the views along the coast were spectacular. Loads of people were walking the track, no one taking any notice of the fact it was still officially closed. It seemed a shame that the national park was missing out on all that revenue. The track was muddy and slippery in places and we passed many people who were struggling and not dressed for the conditions – one woman was even wearing a mink stole and high heeled boots.

Despite a few changes to our plans and a bit more rain than we’d have liked, it all turned out perfectly and we had a great time on the Cinque Terre. It was a birthday to remember.

Back at camp our van was as we left it, and almost as we arrived the skies opened again. We stayed put the next day, it was too wet to be driving. Then Easter Sunday dawned sparkling and bright and we headed off up the coast, through many more of those fantastic Italian tunnels and over sweeping viaducts, and finally across the border back to France, this time to the French Riviera.

Monterosso, Cinque Terre

Vernazza, Cinque Terre

Track closed!

Peva weatherwane, Cinque Terre track

Corniglia in the distance

Vernazza, Cinque Terre

Corniglia, Cinque Terre

The autostrade from the Villa San Giovanni ferry terminal was a dramatic improvement from the roads in Sicily. This certainly was a first-world highway and there were so many tunnels. The Italians believe in going straight at all costs – straight through hills and straight over valleys. These tunnels were vastly different from those in Sicily, well-lit. wide and airconditioned. In fact, these were some of the best tunnels we’d driven through.

With such good roads we covered ground quickly and decided to keep driving and make as bigger dent as possible into our trip to Pompeii. The countryside was mountainous, and snow had only recently fallen. Signs warning of the requirement to carry chains regularly flashed over the motorway. It was getting dark when we reached the small town of Padula where I’d found an Agritourism camping spot. These are farms that set aside space for campervans and often offer fresh produce for sale and home-cooking. We were the only campervan there and wondered if it was open. It was, we were warmly welcomed by our host and it was a perfectly adequate site for a stopover. It had been raining off and on throughout our journey and had temporarily cleared, so after many hours in the van we went for a walk into Padula. Set on a steep hillside it is a quaint town with an old-world Italian feel. Below the town at the foot of the hill a 13^th UNESCO listed monastery complex splays out into the countryside.  We wandered through the streets, passed occasionally by locals wrapped up warmly against the cold. It started to rain again, and heavy falls continued through the night. In a campervan rain is very loud. Then the roosters started crowing at four and the geese, goats and dogs joined in. Our peaceful night in the countryside was anything but.

We left early and drove through to Pompeii. I had read some excellent reviews about an agritourism campsite on the edge of the city and thought it might be more interesting than one of the standard tourist campsites near the Pompeii ruins. However, Google Maps had other ideas. We were sent down a narrow lane with directions to turn left into a road that was closed for works, so we had to keep going straight as there was nowhere to turn. The road kept getting narrower. Then right in front of us was a low overbridge. It looked far too low for us and being on a corner it was hard to tell if it got any lower on the turn. We panicked. I jumped out and ran to the bridge trying to ascertain the height, deciding on the spot we needed to try to turn around, all the while cars were squeezing by in both directions. There was no way we could turn in this narrow street. We were causing chaos. A woman came out of her house and helped direct traffic while I ran around like a headless chicken and Mr Love sat behind the wheel waiting for an epiphany.  One helpful motorist told us there were no campsites on this road. Thanks mate. Finally, a small delivery truck came down the lane and beeped at us indicating that if he could fit under then we could. I quickly did a visual measurement and agreed he was at least the same height as us and we followed him through. Needless to say, we decided not to stay at the agritourism campsite and instead went to one of the three campsites across the road from the Pompeii ruins. In hindsight it was a good thing as the location was fantastic. The next morning Andrew cooked me a brunch of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon and we wandered casually across the road and through the gates to the ancient city of Pompeii.

Visiting the ruins of Pompeii was an incredible experience and we spent most of the day exploring this surreal environment – a city caught in a moment of time long-ago. Before the devastating eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD Pompeii was a swanky Roman resort town where the rich and influential spent their holidays. Elegant houses and elaborate villas lined the paved streets. People were entertained in the 20,000-seat arena, socialised in the elegant forum, and relaxed in the one of the many palatial bathhouses. A large earthquake 16 years before the eruption was the only indicator that Vesuvius was going to blow. It is still an active volcano and had blown before this notorious eruption but the sunshine and beauty in this part of the world would have meant most Romans pushed the possibility to the backs of their minds. 20,000 people lived in Pompeii at the time of the eruption. What made this eruption so catastrophic was its intensity. The blast sent a plume of ashes, pumice, rock, and scorching-hot volcanic gases so high into the sky that people could see it for hundreds of kilometres. Fine-grained ash and chunks of pumice and other rocks then fell from the sky. The initial blast wasn’t fatal, and most Pompeiians had plenty of time to flee. Servants and workers were left behind and for them conditions got a whole lot worse. As more and more ash fell, it clogged the air, making it difficult to breathe. Buildings collapsed. Then, to top it all off a superfast moving surge of intensely hot poison gas and pulverized rock poured down the side of the mountain and swallowed everything and everyone in its path. By the time the Vesuvius eruption spluttered to an end the next day, Pompeii was buried under millions of tonnes of volcanic ash. About 2,000 people were killed. Some residents drifted back to town in search of lost relatives or belongings, but there was not much left to find. Pompeii, along with the smaller neighbouring towns of Stabiae and Herculaneum, was abandoned for centuries.

It wasn’t until 1748 that Pompeii was rediscovered, when a group of explorers looking for ancient artefacts arrived in Campania and began to dig. They found that the ashes had acted as a preservative and underneath all that dust, Pompeii was almost exactly as it had been 2,000 years before. Its buildings were intact. Everyday objects and household goods littered the streets. Skeletons were frozen right where they’d fallen. Plaster casts of bodies made from imprints in the ash are an eerie addition to the museum; the dog and small child particularly confronting. Archaeologists even uncovered jars of preserved fruit, nuts and loaves of bread, which are on display, and apart from being blackened look exactly as they would have the day of the eruption. The scale of the city is what hit us. It is huge and obviously well planned. Walking along the remarkably wide cobbled streets we imagined the city as it was 2,000 years before; colourful shops brimming with exotic wares and traders bargaining loudly, wealthy merchants stepping out of elegant townhouses, wine makers pouring their treasured liquid into beautifully decorated amphoras, philosophers arguing on the steps of the forum, and poets reciting their works to gatherings of intelligentsia and noblemen.  It really was a fascinating day.

Vesuvius behind the ruins of Pompeii

Mural of Venus in Pompeii

Remains of an opulent home in Pompeii

Pompeii

Plaster cast of a body of a Pompeii victim

The next morning, we left the campervan in Pompeii and took the train to Sorrento for a two-day break on the Amalfi Coast. You aren’t permitted to drive campervans along the Amalfi Coast during daylight and having done the research you’d be mad to drive there full-stop. The Amalfi Coast is a famous summer holiday destination and despite spring continuing to be elusive and the weather not looking great we were determined to visit this much talked about destination. Leaving the van behind was the only option.

For me, this part of Italy conjures up images of retro glamour; a baby-blue Alpha Romeo Spider whizzing along narrow coastal roads, top down, a young Sophia Loren behind the wheel, oversized glasses shielding her from the bright Mediterranean sun and her lemon chiffon scarf streaming out behind. I had no expectations that I’d see my made-in-the-movies ideal, but we did see a few sports cars and the towns are straight out of a film set.

Our first stop was Sorrento, a town that has been popular with holidaymakers for centuries – since the days of the Grand Tour. We spent a couple of hours there before heading further around the coast. Sorrento sits on cliffs rising dramatically above the Mediterranean. From the Villa Comunale Park there are lovely views down the coast and to Mount Vesuvius sitting across the bay. It is picturesque and elegant, albeit a bit tired, and was surprisingly busy with tourists, many on organised tours. Tourism is obviously vital to the economy of this area and the narrow streets of Sorrento’s historic centre are lined with tourist shops selling souvenirs, Italian delicacies, and everything lemon. This is lemon country and if it can’t be made lemon flavoured or lemon scented it’s not worth making.

We then caught the bus and headed off to Positano on the other side of the peninsula at the start of the Amalfi Coast road. This little town has been used in many films and it’s easy to see why. Colourful buildings cascade down steep hills towards the small pebble beach where the church of Santa Maria Assunta with its tiled dome sits quietly amongst busy restaurants and bars. The bus dropped us at the top of the hill and we made our way down through the cute lanes and stairways lined with pricey boutiques and galleries.

There’s a rustic feel to this town. Being still months away from the high season there was a lot activity underway to get the town ship-shape for summer; shop interiors were being renovated and hotels painted. Nevertheless, many more buildings are in need of care, with wisteria vines crumbling walls and the sea air rusting exposed railings.

After a lunch of capricciosa pizza by the sea we climbed back up the hill to catch the bus to Amalfi. Amalfi is only 16km along the coast, but the road is incredibly narrow and winding, and the journey took 45 minutes. Apparently in summer that trip can take more than twice as long. We were in awe of our bus driver. He drove that bus like it was a fiat bambina, not flinching when we encountered cars on hairpin bends or met other buses in single-lane underpasses. Calm and patient, he got on with the job.

The town of Amalfi is one of the most historic towns along the Amalfi Coast, having had a glorious history as a maritime republic whose status joined the ranks of coastal powerhouses like Pisa, Venice and Genoa. It was a trade bridge between the Byzantine and western worlds for centuries. It’s hard to imagine it being so influential as our first impression was of a sleepy, slightly shabby, seaside village. However, that changed when we walked through the city gate and into Piazza Duomo where the Amalfi Cathedral looms impressively over the square, sitting at the top of a flight of steep, wide steps. The façade of black and white stripes and arabesque arches is very dramatic, and we were taken aback by its magnificence and size, almost out of place in its surrounds. I couldn’t resist seeing inside and left Mr Love sitting on the steps people watching. Built in the 1200s the cathedral is dedicated to Saint Andrew. It has been remodelled several times, adding Romanesque, Byzantine, Gothic, and Baroque elements. To reach the cathedral you first walk through the original 9th century Basilica, which is quite austere, then down some steps to the ornately decorated and surprisingly opulent crypt, before ascending into the splendid cathedral itself.

Amalfi is only small so once the cathedral was visited it didn’t take long for us to fully explore the rest of the town.

We found a donkey shop. Well, a shop full of merchandise and pottery decorated in a very funky donkey motif. Andrew’s mother has 13 donkeys and we couldn’t resist buying her something. The woman in the shop told us that donkeys have played an important part in the history of the Amalfi Coast and are still used today to lug goods up the steep hillsides. Their strength and tireless work ethic symbolises the spirit of the coast.

It was getting late and we had a B&B to check into. We caught the bus 3km back along the coast and walked the short distance to our accommodation. It was lovely. The deck on our room had sweeping views along the cliffs and across the sea. Right next door was a well-known restaurant that our host told us was worth trying. One of the oldest restaurants on the coast it has been run by the same family since 1931. We had a lovely evening and the food and service was faultless. Our gorgeous meal started with a complimentary amuse-bouche of fresh anchovies on a citrus salad and was followed by an entrée of seared squid on homegrown mashed peas served with the most delicious freshly baked potato bread. The family grow all their own produce. Andrew chose their famous spaghetti with clams, cherry tomatoes, olives and capers, for his main. They’ve been serving this dish since 1965. It was cooked in a paper bag, which was opened in front of us, steaming and aromatic. I had a sea bass fillet stewed in lemon sauce on a bed of home grown broccoli, all sweet and leafy and nothing like broccoli in the shop. The wine was recommended by their sommelier and was from across the bay, a small family vineyard that only produces a limited amount exclusively for this restaurant. It was heavenly. There was no room for desert and we asked for the bill. In typical European style a complimentary digestive was served and in typical Amalfi style it was lemoncello, distilled on the coast of course.

Our host at the B&B told us his town of 5,000 swells to 25,000 in summer and the only road in, the coast road, is packed. Boats become the main mode of transport during these months. It’s hard to comprehend how these small towns teetering on cliffs cope with such a seasonal overload.

The next morning, while waiting for the bus, we walked down a path along the cliffs to get some photos of the coast. I wanted to get a better shot so clambered over the wall and skirted along the cliff, getting scratched by agaves on the way, before finding a great vantage site only to realise a large black snake had the same idea. I don’t know who moved quicker, him or me. You forget there are snakes in Europe. It was a viper, and vipers are poisonous.

The bus ride back to Sorrento was just as hair-raising as the ride out. These drivers earn their money.

Back in Pompeii our van was as we left her. The next morning we were off to Rome.

Positano

Positano

Amalfi Cathedral

Amalfi

View from the B&B, Amalfi Coast

Our plan is to cut across the top of Italy to France, via a quick detour to see my cousin in Switzerland, and then through to Spain for winter. There are two reasons for this; many camping grounds close over winter especially outside bigger cities, as I’ve mentioned before, and we don’t fancy spending a chilly winter in the campervan so will do our best to avoid this by finding the mildest climate possible for the winter months.

We have also secured our first house-sitting assignment in the south of France so have to keep the pace on to ensure we get there in time. We signed up to a couple of house-sitting sites before we left New Zealand as we thought it would be a good way to experience everyday life and to give us a break from the campervan and touring, and now after almost 5 months on the go it’s time to slow down for a while.

Having this timeline to stick to we allowed ourselves just over a week in northern Italy with four nights in Venice, two in Milan and two at Lake Orta in the Piedmont region, near the border with Switzerland. Of the three, the one place we wished we could have stayed longer was beautiful Lake Orta and the charming town of Orta San Giulio, perhaps one of the more under-rated places we have visited.

Venice

After driving through from Slovenia, we arrived at our Venice campsite in the early evening and decided to wait to the next day to see the city. We awoke to a thick sea fog covering the campsite, an occurrence that was repeated the next three mornings. The fog hadn’t lifted by the time we left for the city, and as we travelled by bus across the long road bridge that connects Venice to the mainland we could barely see the lagoon beside us. When we arrived at Piazzale Roma, the entrance to Venice, we were greeted by a city wearing a mask of mist, adding a dreamlike feel to this magical place.

They say the best way to see Venice is to get lost. From our experience it’s the only way, as it is impossible not to lose yourselves in the maze of lanes that make up this incredible floating city. We wandered through Venice for three days and got blissfully lost on many occasions.

Venice is built across 118 small islands all interconnected by bridges and with canals running between. The charm of Venice is its absurdity. How can a city can be built not only across islands but across water? The actual land area of these low-lying islands was not enough to cope with an expanding city, so they built it over the water. The imposing 17^th century Santa Maria Della Salute church with its huge baroque dome is built on a platform over the lagoon. Over 1 million wooden stakes, each measuring 4 metres, were driven underwater to create the foundations. Imagine the scale of this undertaking.

Why would people choose to live in this water world? There are traces of civilisation on the islands from before Roman times, but the general consensus is that people moved from the mainland to flee Barbarian invasions in the 5^th century. The lagoon protected them from their aggressors. Ironically, the very water that kept Venice safe may be its demise. Rising water levels could eventually claim this city for the sea.

There are no roads in Venice and any vehicles that cross the bridge can go no further than Piazzale Roma, where there are multi-storey carparks and the bus depot. The other way to travel in, and the only way for many years, is by train. Once you’re there you have two options, walk or travel by boat. The options by boat include the plentiful water taxis, the very pricey gondolas, or using the very efficient waterbus network. We mostly walked apart from taking the waterbus across to Murano.

Bridges are an iconic part or Venice and there are about 400 in the city. The most significant are those that cross the Grand Canal and of those four the shop-lined Ponte di Rialto is most famous, with the wooden Ponte dell ‘Academia a close second, a favourite for its stunning view of Santa Maria Della Salute. While we were standing on Ponte dell ‘Academia we watched a cruise ship pass by, dwarfing the cathedral as it came past and into port.

Sumptuous St Mark’s Square is the main square in Venice and is dominated by the ornate St Mark’s Basilica at one end, with the clock tower and its winged lion of St Mark beside it, and the decorative arcades running along the sides. The inside of St Mark’s Basilica is dark and opulent. The marble terrace above the entrance allows you to get close to the four bronze horses that overlook the square and take in the majesty if the place. Standing on the terrace I tried to spot Mr Love in the square below and realised a lot more people wear bright blue than I expected.

Andrew never likes food to go to waste and it’s not uncommon for him to be carrying stale bread with him when we head out for the day in case we happen upon some birdlife. We pretended we didn’t see the signs in St Mark’s Square and soon had a swarm of pigeons descend on us. Some tourists thought Andrew was an official bird feeder and asked for bread, so they could also get a photo of the pigeons eating out of their hands and sitting on their heads.

The bell tower of St Mark’s Basilica is one of the most recognisable images of Venice. It stands alone in front of the basilica and towers above the square. We got lucky and the line to take the elevator to the top was almost non-existent one afternoon as we walked past. We took the opportunity and with the morning fog long cleared the view was lovely. From above you realise just how built-up Venice is. Every square metre is utilised. I joked that there are no trees in Venice and I’m not far wrong. The few trees that are there are growing out of the tops and sides of buildings, as though not allowed to claim any space of their own.

We didn’t take a gondola ride. Both of us had done this in previous visits to Venice, and as romantic as it might be the 80-euro price tag for 40 minutes (100 euro after 7pm) was more likely to kill any romance. We opted instead to watch from a café drinking an Aperol Spritz, as you do in Venice.

Apart from the chilly morning fog we had fantastic weather, sunny and warm with little wind. The sun was out when we took the vaporetto (waterbus) to Murano where the famous glass factories are. We watched a glass blowing demonstration with the artist masterfully creating a rearing horse with what seemed like only a flick of his wrist and a couple of twists. Murano is different. Slower and quieter, with wider lanes that the let the sun stream through, and of course lots of shops selling glass. We bought a glass horse.

We contemplated buying a mask too. The emporiums that fill the laneways of Venice are very seductive.  So many bejewelled and hand-painted masks – beautiful, but strangely unsettling with their empty eyes.

On our last night we celebrated 6 months married with dinner by a canal near a bridge. Fresh fish for me and pasta for him.

Milan

When we drove through from Slovenia we noticed the air quality in this part of Italy is not great. The sea fog in Venice may have been just that, but a brown smog lingered around the horizon long after the fog had lifted and there was a continual haze. The haze remained as we headed west to Milan.  Northern Italy is the engine room of the Italian economy and industry comes at a cost.

Our first impressions of Milan were not great. A topless prostitute was standing on the verge as we pulled out of a gas station, and another was on the corner as we turned into the campsite. What was this seedy place we’d come to? The campsite had high fences and electric gates which spoke volumes for the area. Inside it was great, and we set up camp next to some friendly Germans. As we always say, we try not to judge a place too quickly.

Milan is a sprawling city and the campsite was quite far from the centre, in fact we were surrounded by a mix of wasteland and allotments. Bikes weren’t an option so the next morning we took a bus and then the metro into town. The journey was seamless and took just over 30 minutes.

Arriving in the centre we stepped out into Piazza Duomo and our first impressions on Milan from the day before were gone in an instant. Before us rose il Duomo di Milano, the Milan cathedral. A marble Neo-Gothic masterpiece glowing in the sunlight. With 135 intricately carved spires reaching for the sky this is a huge cathedral and truly magnificent. To get inside you need to buy a ticket from the nearby ticket outlet where we waited in line for about 15 minutes, and then headed back to the cathedral and through rigorous security screening. It was nice inside but didn’t equal its exterior –  this cathedral displays its beauty on the outside.

It was pizza for lunch in a hip side street pizzeria and then a walk to Castello Sforzesco. Originally a fortress this castle was later the residence of the Sforza dynasty – the ruling family of Renaissance Italy. The Sforza Castle now houses museums libraries, galleries and exhibitions. Through the castle courtyard is Parco Sempione. We wandered through the gardens to the Arco della Pace, the triumphal arch of peace. A fashion shoot was taking place under the archway.

Even though we knew we couldn’t see it we walked across to Santa Maria delle Grazie, home of Leonardo da Vinci’s famous artwork The Last Supper. We hadn’t planned on going to Milan when we first decided on a route across the top of Italy.  Verona and Como were in the original plan. I had always had the impression that Milan was an industrial city with little going for it apart from the fashion industry and Leonardo’s Last Supper. Had we committed to visiting Milan earlier then we would have been able to see the latter in the “flesh”. Unfortunately to visit the masterpiece requires plenty of forward planning as only 25 people can view it at any one time due to its fragility – humidity is slowly destroying what is left of the original painting and therefore it needs to be in a temperature controlled environment. Tickets are in hot demand and when I investigated a week prior I was told we had no show of seeing it unless we were prepared to wait another 2 weeks. Maybe next time. It was a pretty church all the same.

From there we walked through streets lined with stylish eateries with equally stylish patrons, and past fashionable offices and on-trend boutiques, back to the central square. Galleria Vittorio Emanuele sits on Piazza Duomo and is one of the world’s oldest shopping malls. Featuring a glass dome, cast iron roof and mosaic tiles, it’s an architectural marvel and transports you back to a time of refined glamour and sophistication. We wandered through and window shopped.

Milan is a shopping Mecca with Haute Couture at every turn. It’s the home of Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabbana and the rest of the Italian suite of top labels. Andrew was drawn into the Ferrari boutique, three storeys of Ferrari fashion, and cars too. He was almost tempted by the soft Italian leather bomber jacket.

Milan is a cool, chic city and so much more than we anticipated. We liked it.

Arco della Pace

il Duomo di Milano

Piazza Duomo

Galleria Vittorio Emanuele

Santa Maria delle Grazie

Lake Orta and Orta San Giulio

Like Lake Bled, we found out about Lake Orta through an article on Europe’s most beautiful lakes. We had originally planned on going to Lake Como, but were tempted by the mystique of this lesser known lake and its sacred mountain.

Lake Orta is a 1 ½ hour drive from Milan, in the Piedmont region and not far from the Swiss border. We arrived at our campsite on the lake and as there weren’t many vans there had the pick of the pitches, so of course took a lakefront spot. As the sun set we sat on the water’s edge looking out across stunning Lake Orta and pinched ourselves, could it really be this good?

The historic town of Orta San Giulio is on a peninsula that juts out into the lake and was only a short walk from our campsite. Its narrow streets are all faded elegance and ochre charm, straight from an Italian classic movie. A smattering of tourists wandered around, but there wasn’t a touristy feel to the place – this is a good secret kept.

Just out from Orta San Giulio is the small island of San Giulio, home to a Benedictine monastery of nuns. The first evening while we were walking around the bay we saw two nuns jump in a speed boat and zoom off out to the island, we had to look twice. The next day when we were back in town we found a water taxi, and for 4.50 euro return we headed out to the tiny island. The boat stopped alongside a jetty where a sign welcomed us to the island and asked for respect and silence. The most prominent building on the island is the Basilica di San Giulio. This 12^th century Romanesque church is simply gorgeous. The nave is elaborately decorated with frescoes and down a small spiral staircase is the beautifully adorned crypt. Later we walked around the island, and being so small it didn’t take long. There were no nuns to be seen, just a couple of fellow tourists. All along the pathway were messages endorsing the virtue of silence.

Back on the mainland we had a sacred mountain to visit. Above the town is Sacro Monte di Orta, a place of pilgrimage for Catholics and a UNESCO World Heritage site. In amongst the trees on the mountain top are 20 small chapels dedicated to St Francis of Assisi. Inside each chapel are wonderful frescoes and incredibly realistic wooden figurines recounting different parts of St Francis’ life. Built over the 17^th and 18^th centuries the chapels vary in style depending on the time they were built, from the Renaissance to baroque and rococo. The frescoes were painted by prominent artists of the time. We spent a couple of tranquil hours wandering from one chapel to the other. There was barely anyone else around and we marvelled that these historic chapels of such significance are freely accessible. The muted autumnal light and colours of the trees added to the atmosphere. It was a surreal and serene experience.

After two charming days at Lake Orta we reluctantly headed on our way. Next stop Lausanne, Switzerland.