Italy (July 24 - July 29)

On Saturday, July 23^rd, I began the long bus ride from Pokhara to Kathmandu.  It was a sad day of goodbyes.  That afternoon I caught a flight back to Dubai (for another miserable overnight airport stay) before catching the flight to Istanbul where I would resume my trip. 

Enigmatic Dubai with a view (?) of the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world

I had a good part of the day to kill in Istanbul so I returned to the historical area where I wandered around the now familiar streets.  I should probably mention that Turkish food is really good.  It’s hearty, flavorful and relatively cheap in the numerous shops that line the busy streets.  Following my one-hour metro ride to a different airport, I boarded the quickish flight to Milan. 

Because I arrived so late, most of the public transport was winding down.  I finally managed to catch a late bus into the city’s main train terminal where I wandered the empty streets until I found an open hotel room.  Actually, I followed one of the “arranger-type” people who offer assistance, with the hope of a tip or concession from the hotel to where you have been delivered.  At 2:00 a.m. following almost 40 hours of travel and with an enormous backpack on my back (and a smaller one on my chest), I was thrilled to cooperate.

Waking up the next morning, I felt a little like Dorothy emerging from her house into Munchkinland.  I vividly recall walking into the bathroom and noticing the dry tile floors with no bugs in sight and finding a separate shower with warm water and a sit down toilet.  The contrasts between this and almost all of my other previous lodgings were stark.  And, while I honestly felt a degree of sadness that the more “rustic” parts of my trip had ended, I also felt a huge relief that I was now back with the familiar.  Outside the hotel, the streets were busy with Italians drinking espresso and eating buttery pastries in corner cafes.  It was exhilarating.  Signs written in Italian seemed happily mundane when compared to the confusion of letters and symbols I had tried to decipher in Chinese, Thai, Nepali or Turkish.

Later that morning I made my way by metro to the Milan Cathedral. 

Construction on the site began in 1386 and continued with starts and stops through 1965.  While I think the Cathedral has to be one of the most beautiful on Earth, apparently, this view is not universally held.   In my support, I offer the opinion of Mark Twain who wrote:

“What a wonder it is! So grand, so solemn, so vast! And yet so delicate, so airy, so graceful! A very world of solid weight, and yet it seems ...a delusion of frostwork that might vanish with a breath!... The central one of its five great doors is bordered with a bas-relief of birds and fruits and beasts and insects, which have been so ingeniously carved out of the marble that they seem like living creatures-- and the figures are so numerous and the design so complex, that one might study it a week without exhausting its interest...everywhere that a niche or a perch can be found about the enormous building, from summit to base, there is a marble statue, and every statue is a study in itself...Away above, on the lofty roof, rank on rank of carved and fretted spires spring high in the air, and through their rich tracery one sees the sky beyond. ... (Up on) the roof...springing from its broad marble flagstones, were the long files of spires, looking very tall close at hand, but diminishing in the distance...We could see, now, that the statue on the top of each was the size of a large man, though they all looked like dolls from the street... They say that the Cathedral of Milan is second only to St. Peter's at Rome. I cannot understand how it can be second to anything made by human hands.” 

Not too bad.

In the detractors column, I would place John Ruskin (a seemingly snobbish art critic of the Victorian era), who noted:

“[the cathedral steals] from every style in the world: and every style spoiled. The cathedral is a mixture of Perpendicular with Flamboyant, the latter being peculiarly barbarous and angular, owing to its being engrafted, not on a pure, but a very early penetrative Gothic … The rest of the architecture among which this curious Flamboyant is set is a Perpendicular with horizontal bars across: and with the most detestable crocketing, utterly vile. Not a ray of invention in a single form… Finally the statues all over are of the worst possible common stonemasons’ yard species, and look pinned on for show.”

… and Oscar Wilde who wrote to his mother that:

"The Cathedral is an awful failure. Outside the design is monstrous and inartistic. The over-elaborated details stuck high up where no one can see them; everything is vile in it; it is, however, imposing and gigantic as a failure, through its great size and elaborate execution."

Despite these contrasting views, I found the Cathedral to be magnificent.  The exterior is dripping in ornamentation. 

No stone is merely a stone, as every surface seems to be the pedestal for a unique sculpture.  This can all be appreciated in great detail by paying for the well-worth-it ticket to the top of the cathedral where you can wander among the buttresses, stand face to face with saints and apostles and have your picture taken on the center of the roof. 

I next toured La Scala which was only a few blocks away.  The beautiful La Scala is recognized as one of the leading opera and ballet theatres in the world.  Since 1778, La Scala has been the stage for some of the most talented musicians ever to have lived.  Despite its importance, because I was unable to see a performance at the venue, it was a little like receiving an empty Rolex box for a present.

On my way back to the metro, I opted not to spin around on the mosaic bull scrotum located on the floor of one of the shopping galleries, thus failing to pocket the free good luck that is promised to the willing whirlers.

That afternoon I hopped on the train to Bolzano, with a transfer in Verona (hello Romeo & Juliet).  From Verona to Bolzano, the train begins to enter the Italian Alps.  The Dolomites were what had drawn me to Italy. 

They are a particularly stunning mountain range that runs between Austria and Italy.  Because the area they occupy was once a part of Austria, it has a uniquely Tyrolean feel, from the alpine meadows, to wooden chalets, to apfel stroedel.  It also has fantastic pizzas.  (How I’ve missed bread!)  German is frequently spoken and most of the towns carry both Italian (Bolzano) and German (Bozen) names.

Bolzano is a beautiful, historic town, which in addition to the large, open parks, flower boxes, rivers and cobblestone streets, is also home to the South Tyrol Archeological Museum where Ötzi lives.  Discovered on a glacier north of Bolzano in 1991, Ötzi the Iceman is one of the world’s oldest mummies (about 3,000 B.C.).  He had already spent 600 years encased in ice before the Egyptian pharaoh Cheops began construction of his famous pyramid.   Ötzi’s natural preservation (as opposed to an embalming) has provided the world with a rare, detailed snapshot of the Stone Age in Europe.
 
In this setting I heard one of the most cynical comments of my trip.  While walking on a path next to the river, I was approached by a cyclist who asked for directions.  While searching for my map I gushed, “Isn’t this place gorgeous?!”  The man responded, “Well, I am from Poland and compared to our mountains, these hills seem rather boring.”  Really?  What sort of person could be “bored” by this scenery?  As he cycled away … past the castle surrounded by the vineyard … I could only shake my head incredulously.

On Tuesday morning I took the quick bus ride to Ortisei (St. Ulrich).  From here I took the Seceda Cable car to the jump-off point for my hike. 

I love hiking in the Alps because (i) numerous cable cars whisk you quickly to the mountain tops, (ii) the scenery is possibly unparalleled, (iii) trails are well-marked and accessible, and (iv) you can pick up a hot chocolate every few hours at one of the small cottages or refuges along the trails …  oh, and (v) no bears! 

This day was exactly (except for the somewhat heavy cloud cover) what I hoped it would be.  It was a long (mostly easy to moderate) hike through green alpine meadows, over exposed limestone passes and ending with a long, steep descent into the valley below to Selva (Wokenstein). 

Lucky alpinist bovine

Stone "graffiti" along the trail 

From there, I caught the bus back to Bolzano.

On Wednesday the 27^th, I packed my bags and caught the bus to Castelrotto (Kastelruth).  Could this area get any nicer?!  This tourist town sits in the middle of vast green meadows and is guarded over by a fairytale, onion-domed bell tower at the base of which is a romantic public fountain.  Wow, wow, wow! 

With no time to waste, I made my way (short bus ride to Siusi, followed by a long aerial cableway ride, in fact, the world’s longest such ride) to Compaccio. 

My destination was the Alpe di Siusi, the largest high-Alpine meadow in Europe.  The scenery was not quite as dramatic as the day before, nor was the weather as clear, but the “meadow” (it’s vast) was, nevertheless, breathtaking … at least until all of the views were obscured by a heavy rain.

And this is why we are glad for small restaurants dotting the hillside serving delicious hot chocolate.

I took the cableway back to Siusi where I walked back to Castelrotto, down country roads, through grass pastures and past onion-domed churches, all the while asking myself, how is it that some people actually get to live in places like this. 

St. Valentine Church, built in 1244

On Thursday, I returned to Bolzano where I caught the train to Como in Italy’s famous Lake District.  Given what I had just seen, I have to confess that Como, despite (and perhaps as a result of) its fame, seemed a little overrated (Oh no!  Was I becoming the Polish cyclist?)  It’s possible that I just needed to get off the beaten path.  I would love to return someday when I have a little more time.     

Rainbow directly over Como

Friday was spent walking Como’s streets, visiting its historical sites and taking a lake cruise before heading back to Milan where I caught the flight to Stockholm. 

Arrivederci Italia!