Florence’s way or the highway

Here we are at the top of the tower, above the fray.

There are lots of kinds of buildings in Florence.  Some are orange, and some have stripes.  One has a great big half-egg dome on top.  Another is a great big block with a tower sticking out of the top that we were able to climb on today.

All of them would be walking around Florence if they had legs.  Instead, they’re relatively safe in the Galleria dell’ Academia.

There are lots of kinds of people in Florence.  Sure, a lot of them are young college students who look astonishingly similar to Nadia and Lanie, but there are other kinds of people here, too.  Tonight at dinner, I heard our watier speak Italian, English and Spanish.  He was a good waiter.  He had a lot of different people to take care of.

As far as I can tell, there are three kinds of streets in Florence.  One kind is big and wide and has lots of lanes for cars to zoom around on.  We saw some of these when Nadia took us for a walk along the river to a park on the other side of town from where our apartment is.  We needed a nice park to eat our cinnamon roll brunch desserts in.  Ironically, to get to a shady park we had to cross several lanes of traffic.

Not likely to block traffic here

Another kind of road we saw today when we were one our way to meet up with Nadia after her cooking class.  The class is in this glass-walled classroom right in the middle of the Florence Central Market, which is a fresh food market on the first floor and a food court on the second floor, where Nadia’s class is.  We even got to meet her professor. (We were forbidden to take pictures of either class or professor.)

in order to get there though we had to walk on a road choked with vending stalls, most of them selling leather goods.  I checked behind the booths and  there was usually a leather store right behind the booth.  There were many, many booths on both sides of the street.  Occasionally, the leather was interrupted by jewelry or soccer jerseys.  It was very much a bazaar-like experience, and as Lanie looked at jewelry,

The Gallileo Museum showed his many inventions for detecting approaching traffic.

I could hear other people haggling with, or simply trying to avoid the advances of the leather sellers.  I am pretty sure this kind of street is just for walkers.  I don’t remember seeing any cars on these roads — and they seem to completely surround the Central Market — but really had my hands full trying to avoid the gaze of the leather salesmen, so if a car came by I probably would have been hit by it.

The third kind of road represents about 90 percent of the streets in Florence, as far as I can tell, and is combination of the other two.  That is to say, they seem like they are pedestrian streets, but then all of a sudden a car comes roaming down the middle.  It’s not exactly like in Cinque Terre, where it was almost always people except when a special taxi, a garbage truck, or an ambulance went by.  Here, it can be any kind of vehicle, even a bus.  And it can be on any kind of street, even ones that don’t seem like they can possibly fit a bus.

This is a Florentine car-accessible road. Note the skimpy sidewalks.

Many of these streets are narrow to begin with, and then they have half-hearted sidewalks on eather side that are maybe the width of someone’s body if they kept their arms straight down at their sides.  In such a situation, it’s nearly impossible to walk on the sidewalk because there is almost always someone coming your way.

There are lots of people walking around Florence.  And yet, they don’t seem to want to commit to having any pedestrian streets.  For two days now, I have been lulled into a false sense of safety by crowded, cobblestone streets, only to have a Land Rover sneak up behind me.  In fact, now I can’t be comfortable walking anywhere here.  I barely looked up at David in the Galleria dell’ Accademia, because I was looking over my shoulder for a delivery truck to come driving down the main hall.

Michealangelo made his David extra tall, so he could spot oncoming Florentine motorists.

White van, having ignored concrete traffic discourager

It may sound like I’m going a little overboard, but it really has gotten into my head.  Today, I thought I had finally found an example of a true pedestrian street.  There were large round concrete creations in the road that held plants and also offered a people a surface to sit on.  I thought it might be a test trail for a car-free zone.  Then a van slalomed in between the structures on its way to a quite congested piazza.  If it’s a test, they’re going to need some more time for the idea to stick.

Now, Florence does not owe me anything.  It’s a great place — if a little nerve wracking — to walk around in.  There are many, many interesting things to look at. There are many happy people here.  If they want their streets to be mixed-use, then they are entitled to it.

Ancient traffic maps in the Palazzio Veccio Museum

If you can see this, you’re probably blocking traffic.

And I am by no means worried for my life while I’m walking around here.  The cars can’t go very fast with people milling all around, but I do feel bad then I turn around to find a carbinieri car coming down the street.  Nobody wants to stand in the way of justice.  Also, I feel bad for the drivers, having to dodge a bunch of slow moving tourists all the time.

One last note about driving in Florence:  Avoid the bridges in the late afternoon.  Jen discovered that a large portion of the pedestrian population heads to one of the four bridges to get a good view as the sun goes down.  So even the type 1 roads turn into type 3 roads without much warning.

Good luck, Florence drivers.

Culture and cooking

We’re still not totally adjusted to European time, and the 8am alarm came early today.  We had to be up and about to get to our 9am reservation for the Uffizi museum.  Last time we were in Italy you could just pay your money and wander in to any museum you wanted, but these days you need to reserve well in advance.  Nadia is in class this morning, but the rest of us managed to straggle out a bit later than planned.

Our tardiness ended up working out in our favor.  When we arrived there was a long, long line of people in a line marked “9:30”, but the “9:15” line was completely empty and we were able to just waltz through (with our 9am tickets; fortunately they’re not too dogmatic here).  There were a LOT of people in the Uffizi, and we got a little overwhelmed by the crowds at first.  The rooftop museum cafe, with its views over Florence, looked very inviting — and we hadn’t had time for coffee this morning.  A pleasant

View from our cafe table

interlude with cappucinos (excuse me, cappucini, as the waitress informed me) was just what we needed.

Once we got away from the crowds a bit, the museum was very pleasant.  Lanie, our resident artist, educated us on the techniques used in the paintings.  Bob has been reading a book about the artists of the Renaissance and was able to provide us with many fun facts about what we were looking at.  I just trailed along for the ride, not contributing anything, but enjoying the beautiful architecture and artwork.

Amazingly, we’ve gotten to the point where we’re ready for a break from pasta and pizza, so we went to an excellent taco place Nadia recommended for lunch.  Then we got to check out Nadia’s apartment.  It’s a pretty sweet arrangement — just a couple of minutes walk from the center of everything (Uffizi, Ponte Vecchio, Palazzo Vecchio) — and her room had a large open window looking out over the river.  (I will never not be jealous of these Europeans who can have wide open windows with no screens, and somehow no bugs.)  Her apartment is also fairly close to the Brandy Melville store, which was a big draw for Lanie.  Apparently the Brandy Melville store in Florence has different merchandise than what you can find on the Branch Melville website, or the Brandy Melville Boston store.  Looking for Lanie in there was a challenge, because the store seemed to a veritable sea of little Lanies, with long straight flowing hair and white tank tops everywhere you looked.

For the afternoon Nadia joined us for a pasta and tiramisu-making class at a nearby restaurant.  We learned some excellent Italian cooking tips from our very skilled and entertaining teacher, though there was also a lot of wine involved so we possibly won’t remember them.  We’re not sure whether the ravioli and tagliatelle we were served at the end was actually what we’d made, or whether they’d immediately thrown that away and given us something made by more highly skilled people, but either way it was delicious.

We made one last stop on the way home — the Santa Maria Novella Pharmacy, the world’s oldest pharamacy (established in 1221).  According to my Atlas Obscura book, you could buy salves and potions made with 800-year-old recipes, but we mostly saw extremely high-priced modern lotions.  (I think they’ve really cashed in since being publicized in Atlas Obscura.)

…but not that impressed with the merchandise.

Cool architecture…

Though we declined to pay upwards of 40 euros for a bottle of hand lotion, the architecture was amazing and we at least could say we’d checked it out.

We were supposed to meet Nadia at a bar to watch a soccer game at 9pm, but we are all somewhat weighed down by pasta and tiramisu and wine, so I think we’re calling it a night.

 

 

Things to know about Cinque Terre

Here are a few things to know about Cinque Terre, and perhaps about Italy as a whole, if you are thinking about going there.

Off-peak does not mean empty trails, at least in the early parts of the hike

1. Monday is a better time to do most things than Sunday.   Yesterday when we buckled and bought the CinqueTerre cards so that we could walk on the Via di Amore, it cost a small fortune.  The man in the booth apologized to us, saying it was “Peak Season.”   I made a joke, saying I was doing it for love (because Via di Amore means “Lovers’ Lane” or something close to that).  I even managed to say my joke in Italian, and the man in the booth was mightily impressed.   Today, we found out it isn’t peak season anymore.

Mondays are apparently off-peak, and the admission to walk the paths was half of what it was

An early glimpse of Vernazza

yesterday. Friends,  take it easy on Sunday in Cinque Terre.  Go to the beach or walk on one of the free trails.  Then go crazy on Monday.

2.  I’m not going to say that this place is a haven for smokers, but it is smoker friendly.  Maybe half of the people milling about, or maybe a third, seem to be smoking either an e-cigarette or an analog one.  Not in restaurants, mind you.  But in the streets.  Today while I was waiting outside the apartment on a nice bench they put there, a couple came by and they looked like they were in search of something.  I told them I had only been here a day, but I

Getting closer to town

might be able to help them.  They were looking for a trash reciptical.  I had to admit that the closest one I could think of was a few hundred meters away, near the beach.  But there were several cigarette receptacles within sight of where I was.  Jen even saw honest-to-goodness ash trays (remember those things?) in several souvenir stands.  It is possible that you can smoke in hotel rooms here, too.  Our apartment definitely had the scent of smokers.  It was like being back in the 80s.

3. It’s not actually super expensive here.  This is especially true on Mondays (see #1 above).  Our walk from Monterosso to Vernazza was absolutely worth the 7 euro per person we paid.  It was my third favorite hiking experience ever (after the Bright Angel Trail at the Grand Canyon’s South Rim and the Franconia Notch loop).  It was a strenuous two miles of absolute pleasure.  Honestly, it was worth the whole extravagance of getting here.  After a few hundred meters of climbing stairs with dozens of other tourists, things spread out and we were able to climb stairs pretty much in our group of four.

Eventually we started getting glimpses of the pink buildings or Vernazza.  We  began imagining ourselves under one of the multicolored umbrellas in the harbor-side piazza.  Soon enough we were there, eating lunch under one of those umbrellas.  From time to time we would look up into the hills above us and see the people we had passed on our way over, still making their way along the path.  It’s not totally that we’re fine specims of health — I mean, we’re not bad, but there were a lot of people much older than us on the trail, and it was not an easy trail.  Lots of stairs to climb along the way, and lots of twists and turns in the trail.  It was not as tricky as yesterday’s hike, where there were not dedicated steps and a lot of the rocks were covered in moss, making them slippery.  But it was not a total walk in the park, either.

There’s our village of Monterosso in the background.

In terms of expense, we ate lunch in a seaside resort, on the main piazza of what most people think is the most scenic of all the town in the Cinque Terre, and we paid about 85 euro for the four of us.  I think we would have paid a lot more in the US, and the food was better than it had to be, given the prime real estate.  We have found some nice value here.  A liter of sangria at a cafe right above the main Monterosso beach — 20 euro.  And they gave us snacks.  We ordered another round because we still had an hour before our train left.  That’s right, we were in a cafe five minutes from the train station, staring our at the Mediterranian Sea, and they didn’t really gouge us for booze.  That price includes the tip.  Did I mention that?

4. When you see the pictures of the sesaside villages here, you might notice that the buildings

Cheap sangria on the promenade

are pretty close together, and as a consequence they tend to stretch upward for lack of being able to expand sideways.  This creates some interesting elements of interior design.

Our apartment is a prime example of maximizing vertical space — from the ship’s staircase you had to climb to get up to the main floor (our friend Eliza the mountain climber would have had a good time with that), to the loft where Nadia slept, it was not for the weak-kneed, but it was a very interesting space to inhabit for a few nights.  Perhaps the most treacherous part was getting to the bathroom, which required walking across the ship’s ladder at a space where the stairway’s risers did not match the floor level.  It was a potential cliff dive for someone waking up in the middle of the night needing to use the facilities.  The proprietors have installed a gate to block off this section to prevent sleepwalking injuries, and fortunately we did not have any injuries.

Need the bathroom? Just step over my head.

5. There are benefits to renting an apartment.  While our Air b’nb hostess apologized for not being able to help us with the lost luggage situation -(she had never dealt with a situation requiring a courrier to drive to the apartment, which is unaccessible to car traffic, arriving potentially at a moment’s notice — luckily, we figured it out), she was very gracious in letting us leave our luggage in her entryway after we checked out of the apartment and started our trek to Vernazza.  Later in the day, that entry way served as a changing room for Lanie and Jen as they got their bathing suits on.  That’s right! They went swimming in the Mediterranian Sea.  It was right between our lunch on the piazza and our seaside sangrias.

The loft over the kitchen

6. It is not difficult to get around.  We hopped on a train in Monterosso (You do have to be careful that you don’t get on the wrong train.  A lot of people who just wanted to go to the next town tried to get onto our train, which was going all the way to another part of Italy) and that bought us to Pisa.  There we changed trains, and fairly quickly (about three hours after we left Monterossa) we were in Florence.  Nadia walked us confidently out of the train station and to our new apartment, and then we found a great (and inexpensive) restaurant a block away from our front door.

7.  We have not really needed cash for anything here, except the “Tourist Tax,” which our hostess requested we leave in a basket on the kitchen table when we left. It was meant to be three euro per person per day we were in the CInque Terre — that’s 24 euro, if you are as  good at math as we are.  This out of pocket expense was reduced to 23 euro when I found a euro coin on the path up to the convent on the first evening we were in town.  Of course, because we had extra euros on hand, I wanted to give some of it away to the man who drove our suitcase all the way from Milan out to Monterosso over what must be a very twisty and dark road through the hills.  I gave him a 10 euro note as a tip, and he seemed very confused by it.  He said, “You are very…” but he couldn’t think of the word to explain a person who would randomly give him money, at least not a complimentary one and not in English.  Tiips are not standard here (see number 3 on this list); though most establishments have had tip jars near the register — they are hopeful, but usually empty.  I finished the sentence for him,  “We are very happy to have our luggage,” I said.  He took the money and hopefully bought himself a drink with it, though not until after he made it back over the hills.

 

Making lemonade out of lemons

Cinque Terre has done its best to live up to all our expectations.  The town we’re staying in, Monterrosso al Mare, has all the the tourist guides promise — towering cliffs, blue-green waters, colorful buildings, copious walking paths.  It’s not Monterosso’s fault that we’ve been forced into being preoccupied with a less happy focus — how to reclaim Lanie’s lost luggage.

On the plus side, the airline knew where the luggage was, and had a plan to have a courier bring it back to us.  Unfortunately, this was complicated by the fact that Cinque Terre does not allow cars, so our lodging is only accessible on foot.  So, there was a great deal of uncertainty around (a) when the luggage would arrive, and (b) where it would be driven to.  Having arrived by train, we weren’t even sure where the nearest car-accessible area was.

This uncertainty hampered our plans somewhat.  We were planning to walk down the cliffside path to the next village, Verrnaza.  But we quickly came to a checkpoint where we were informed that we would need to pay 15 euro each to continue.  Normally this would be no

problem, but we were afraid that we might need to turn around at any moment if the courier called, and might end up needing to hang around Monterosso for the afternoon.  So we bailed out on the plan and decided to save it for the next day.  (This would later prove to have been the wrong decision.)

Instead we wandered around Monterosso a bit — Cinque Terre is wonderful for wandering, with its colorful houses, old stone bridges, and picturesque stairways — and did a little shopping,  Eventually we ended up following a path up into a lemon grove.  This proved to be a delightful walk along a river with frequent waterfalls, lemon trees overarching the path from the hillsides above.  Eventually the path led way, way up the steep hillside, and eventually we got some nice views of Monterosso and the sea in the distance.  We were hoping the path would lead back down — and possibly it did somehow — but we hit a fence and a gated road and decided to avoid a potential trespassing situation.

After seeing all those lemons and working up quite a thirst, we had to return to the fresh lemonade stand that we’d passed in town.  Delicious!  They really know how to do food and drink here, even at the tourist trap places.

Monterosso in the distance

Throughout this time, we’d been checking approximately every 5 minutes for word from the luggage courier.  But our emails and calls were going unanswered, and the day was wearing on.  After another email asking them to PLEASE give us advance warning of their arrival, we decided to hop on a train to the village at the far end of Cinque Terre, Riomaggiore.  (The train runs every 20 minutes and takes only 11 minutes, so we figured we could get back pretty rapidly if needed.)

Riomaggiore was another lovely little town.  There was an area down by the water where you could climb on rocks (or jump off them into the water, if you were adventurous) and take in the views of the brightly-painted buildings rising up the cliffs above.  Bob and I were a little more ambitious and wanted to walk to the next town, which didn’t look to be very far.  The girls decided to bail on this plan — Nadia’s shin splints were acting up from the morning’s hike, and Lanie was feeling jet-lagged — so they stayed to explore the town and take the train back while Bob and I set off down the path.

We quickly found that to walk the path required both the Cinque Terre card (which was what we’d declined to buy that morning) AND a supplemental payment for this leg of the trail, called the Via di Amore.  When we heard the 25 euro per person price tag, we walked away — but then weren’t sure what else to do with ourselves, so decided to grit our teeth and pay it.  It must be pretty spectacular, right?

Busy train station

Well…it was spectacular, but it took all of 15 minutes.  It was a luxury path — smoothly paved, with shade overhead and little elevation change.  We would have just as soon hiked a more rugged, natural path that didn’t cost 50 euro.  Because our walk was so short (and to get more of our money’s worth), we decided to continue to the next town, Manarola.  Alas, after a short distance we found that that trail was closed, so we were foiled again.  (The short distance was still worth it for the amazing views of Manarola (shown at the to

p of this post).  We have a Cinque Terre puzzle at home, and we’ve been trying to figure out where the photo on it was taken — and we think this may be the one.)

The alternate path climbed high into the hills and took 2.5 hours, so we gave up the plan and took the train back.  The girls were waiting for us at a seaside bar, happily indulging in apertivos.  (Luckily for 17-year-old Lanie, no one checks ids here.)  The rest of our evening was spent strolling, checking out the beach, eating dinner, and getting gelato (and checking my phone for word from the luggage courier).

Finally we had to accept that he wasn’t coming, and

Grape beer! It had a slight grape soda aftertaste.

headed back to the apartment for bed.  When, wonder of wonders, we got a phone call!  He clearly wasn’t sure where he was going either, but he gave us the name of a nearby road, and we were able to find the point on it where cars can get to.  (While waiting for him, we got to see several members of the area’s feral cat colony.)  And as of 10pm, happy Lanie was reunited with her luggage.

Traveling for a day or so

There was a lot of traveling necessary for our trip to Florence to see Nadia. I guess, when you get down to it, it’s all traveling when we’re on these trips, but we’ve pretty much spent the last day and a half in constant motion. Also, we’re not actually going to be in Florence for a couple of days. So the traveling will continue.

It all started early Friday afternoon when I skipped out of school during lunch time, leaving the first graders with a substitute for the last 45 minutes of the day. We were facing Boston traffic on the first major leg of our trip, and we wanted to make sure we got an early start. Who knows what might be waiting on Route 1A in Roxbury?

Actually, we know because it was yesterday and it already happened. The answer is not much was waiting for us. We got to our parking lot and then the shuttle without any fuss. Security check was smooth. We arrived at our gate in plenty of time. We didn’t even have to find food in the the terminal because SAS airlines was giving us dinner and also a little breakfast on our way to our Copenhagen, where an hour-long layover waited for us.

Still, we had plenty to do with our time. Task 1 was to check out one of the travel lounges that our new credit card promises us access to. It costs us extra money in the form of an annual fee, but there is supposed be free food and drinks, and we’re travelling sorts of people, so we thought it would be worth it. This travel lounge was sponsored by Air France (I will not mention the name of the credit card company unless they offer to sponsor us or at least give us the travel lounges for free). It was very close to our gate. We took a special elevator to get there. There was a sign out front that said it was being rennovated and would be closed until this summer. We were disappointed, but not despondent. There was another lounge in Copenhagen that would surely have coffee and stuff for us during our hour-long layover tomorrow morning.

Instead of gorging ourselves on food we paid an unnamed credit card company to give us access to, we returned to our gate and played the game that we like to play that goes like this: We tell them we are carrying on our luggage; then, when they inevitably offer to gate check bags for free, we take them up on it. It costs a lot of money to check bags otherwise. We travel a lot and are very savvy.

Pleased with ourselves, we got onto our plane and started watching some movies while they fixed somthing that was preventing takeoff. It’s easy to distract us by putting screens in front of us, and we didn’t really catch what was going on. All three of us remember hearing it said that someone was fixing something and we would be leaving late, but we would not be arriving very late because of tail winds.

 

At some point during our movies, the plane took off. A lttle later we were fed — good stuff on SAS. We slept a little, watched stuff, read some things. They eventually brought us nice breakfast sandwiches and coffees. We got to Copenhagen to finish the second major leg of our travel day and a half, and wouldn’t you know it, the tail winds must not have been that great after all. We were 45 mintues later than we were supposed to be. We no longer had an hour-plus layover. We no longer planned to visit a travel lounge. We were worried we were going to miss our flight to Milan.

So began the shortest, but most exciting, leg of our travel day. We were in the E terminal and we had to get all the way to the A terminal. In between was passport control. We had about 20 mintues.

Don’t worry, everyone, we made our flight. Here’s what we had to do to make it: We had to wait patiently while every other row of the plane took their time getting their bags down and stretching and all else. When we finally got off the plane, we ran ran ran. This was made easier because we didn’t have our big bags. We gate checked them because we are clever.

All the running came to a stop when we crashed into the considerable passport control line. It did not look good, friends. Even after Jen informed a woman in an SAS uniform that we had an pressing need to get over to Gate A21, and even after the lady moved us 3/4 of the way up the line (as soon as she did that, EVERYONE started telling her about THEIR pressing connection concerns, and she stopped moving people up — she told us moving up in line wouldn’t make a difference, anyway, and she said they would not be holding flights for people arriving late), it still did not look good. The Copenhagen airport appeared to be expecting 40 people to need their passports checked, and there were 400 people who needed their passports checked. There were only two booths open! Eventually, they opened two more booths and we got through passport control.

Then we ran ran ran some more. It was about a mile of running, weaving in and out of people. I was clearly the weakest link, lagging behind Jen and Lanie. Then I saw the sign for Terminal A and I dodged around some people, cutting a corner close, and suddenly I was in front, leading the way. I was running and dodging and out of breath when everything fell out of my unzipped backpack. We were right about at Gate A14. Ugh.

Jen and a lady I had just dodged help me get my thing back in. We scurried the last seven gates fearing the worst.

And then, like I told you, we scanned our boarding passes and got on the plane, panting and coughing from our sprint.

After that we sat around on the plane for a while (panting and coughing) and the pilot came on to say we were waiting for people whose connecting flights were a little late.

At least we didn’t have to run across the airport with our big bags. Very wise of us to do the gate check.

Nadia gave us a lesson on wine tasting

Exhaustion helped us sleep a little on the hour long flight to Milan, though we got a cool view of the Alps as we started our descent. We had plenty of time to catch our train for leg…5, think. In this airport we just strolled leisurely to baggage check. We didn’t even have to have our passports checked because they did that in Copenhagen.

There was some concern as we walked that maybe our luggage didn’t manage to move across the Copenhagen airport as quickly as we had done, but that was followed by great relief when my bag and Jen’s bag were the practically the first ones we saw on the carousel. We refilled our water bottles — airport sprinting is dehydrating — and watched on as Lanie waited for her bag. We drank some water and watched and waited. We drank some more water and waited. Her bag didn’t come out. As we got less dehydrated, our hopes of finding Lanie’s suitcase sank.

It turns out, as Jen was able to ascertain, that Lanie’s luggage had not been left in Copenhagen like the bags of many people in line with Jen at the lost luggage desk. True, it did not get sent to Milan, but it wasn’t still in Copenhagen.  What kind of fools gate-check their luggage?

SAS airlines knew where it went, though, and they told Jen they would drive it over to us at our temporary living accommodations when it comes in tomorrow.

This would have been a good time for there to be an airport lounge in the train station, but our credit card company does not offer such perks, even though we pay them extra money. We did manage to get onto our train to Milan Center — actaully, we got on a train that left 20 minutes earlier than the one Jen bought tickets for because the train manager said it was ok.

In Milan’s lovely train station, we admired the architecture, which combined classical and early 20th century elements with a special focus on hiding the bathrooms. I would call this leg 7 — finding the bathroooms in the Milan Center train station because we had to walk all over the place to find it.

We were not out of legs yet.  Leg 8 was a three-hour train ride to the coast.   Our stop was not the last one on the line, so someone would have to stay awake and pay attention to where we were.  Jen set an alarm for 5 (our stop was scheduled for 5:10), just in case.

I wrote a lot of blog on that train, peeking out the window from time to time to take in the Italian scenery.  Eventually, I could start to see the ocean between the buildings.  The towns we traveled through startd to take on a seaside flavor — there were beaches and people swimming in the snippets I saw.

We finally made it to our stop in Monterosso, where Nadia and a nice apartment waited for us.  We found Nadia right there at the station.  Then we started Leg 9 of the trip, which was to walk to our accommodations.  This is not a car-heavy place.  There is a road that snakes along the cliffside and through a tunnel, but it was filled with pedestrian traffic.  Eventually, we noticed a taxi or two beeping their way through the crowds, and at one point this evening an ambulance made its way through, but mostly it’s just people walking around.

After snaking our way along the hillside we turned a corner and village spread out on the far side of the beach.  Most of the alleyways we walked through would be too small for a car, but we did pass a tiny pickup truck, which must be how they get things around here.

We were instantly charmed by the place.  It is old and rustic and vibrant with beachgoers and hikers.  From here, we will be able to walk to four other villages similarly tucked into crags along the coastline.

They won’t technically be counted as legs of our travel because we’ll be staing in this apartment for a few nights.

So, walking around to find a restaurant was just for fun, and finding a gelato shop afterwards was, too, even though we decided to go the long way.  Our path led us up a series of ramps and many stairways to a hilltop convent that was crowned with a graveyard that offered views of the ocean and terraced hills.   Even though we’d been awake for about 34 hours at this point, we were in no rush to get back to our apartment.

It was well-earned sleep when we finally stopped moving around for the day.

Petroglyphs and Sandia sunset

One last view from our Santa Fe terrace

Today it was time to say farewell to Santa Fe, and head off for our last couple of days in Albuquerque.  This was heading down in both the literal and figurative sense, as Albuquerque is a couple thousand feet lower than Santa Fe, and correspondingly warmer.

Even though it’s only an hour’s drive away, it’s a completely different ecosystem.  By the time we got here the snow had vanished, and deciduous trees with bright fall colors had taken the place of pinion and juniper.  The city itself appears fairly flat, but there are still mountains in the distance everywhere you look.

Our first stop was Petroglyph National Monument, just a little ways outside the city.  There are a few different disconnected areas of this park, but we elected to go to the Rinconada Canyon section.  We walked through the canyon alongside a steep hillside covered with volcanic rocks, many of which had been decorated with petroglyphs.  We learned that in addition to the Native Americans, the early Spanish settlers also copied the technique — so in some cases, it’s not known which culture created a given piece of artwork.

For lunch we headed into the city and found the Sawmill Market, a large, upscale food court with just about any kind of food you could imagine.  Zoe had lemon parmesan pasta, and I decided to be virtuous after all the heavy food we’ve been eating and get a large Cobb salad.  Both were delicious, and we capped off our meal with paletas, a sort of Mexican popsicle.

The afternoon turned out to be my very favorite part of the trip.  Just outside the city, which is at around 5000 feet, you can take an aerial tramway to the top of the Sandia mountains, at over 10,000 feet.  As you can imagine, the ascent is quite dramatic.  It reminded me of a similar trip we did in the French Alps, but with a very different landscape.

We had decided to go in the late afternoon, do a short hike around at the top, then watch the sunset and the emergence of the city lights of Albuquerque.  We didn’t get very far on our hike due to the snow, which was several feet deep here.  We followed a packed-down path in the woods for a while, but eventually decided that it was becoming too treacherous.  So we returned to the safe platforms and viewing areas around the tram to watch the sunset.  The views, especially in the light of golden hour, were spectacular — even as the temperature plummeted.  We stayed up on the mountain until darkness fell and the twinkling lights of the city emerged.  After a delicious dinner at a nearby Vietnamese restaurant, we were both ready for bed.

Atoms & art

Full-size replicas of Little Boy and Fat Man, the bombs dropped on Japan.

Today we ventured forth from Santa Fe again, this time to the nearby town of Los Alamos, which has lots of interesting history around the Manhattan Project and the development of the atom bomb.  Once again it was a gorgeous drive winding through the mountains with amazing views around every corner.  You could see why this remote outpost was a good choice for a secret city.

We started at the history museum, then made our way over to the Bradbury Science Museum.  (Oddly, the former, which was small and simple, charged us $5, while the latter, which was larger and much more elaborate, was free.)  Both were very text-heavy, so even though the information was pretty interesting, eventually we began to get a bit of the dreaded museum life-suck effect.  Fortunately we were able to revive ourselves with a delicious lunch at the noodle house next door.

Los Alamos also had this nice park.

For the afternoon we were back in Santa Fe, shopping in the plaza and visiting Canyon Road, the famous strip of art galleries.  Given the many thousand dollar price tags for the artwork, we contented ourselves with window shopping.  With the lovely

Rock paper scissors sculpture!

architecture and outdoor sculpure displays all along the winding road, it was a very pleasant stroll.  I’m not sure how the 100+ art galleries all manage to stay in business, but the art scene is definitely a point of pride here.

To round out the day, we wandered into the Desert Dogs Brewery & Cidery, which was the perfect place to have a drink or two, enjoy the laid-back ambiance, and play a couple of board games.  Turns out they also had delicious street tacos for dinner.

As previously mentioned, Zoe and I are very directionally challenged.  But we also have a secret ambition to someday compete on The Amazing Race TV show.  We know that navigation will be our downfall, so tonight we challenged ourselves to walk back from the town center to our apartment without consulting Google Maps.  This was not a particularly impressive feat, given that we were covering ground that we’d been over several times over the last few days, but we still had a few moments of indecision.  Fortunately we persevered and arrived back home without incident.

Into the past

It would be hard to imagine a greater contrast between yesterday’s Meow Wolf experience and today’s activities.  The House of Eternal Return was delightful and fascinating, but also tended toward overstimulation.  Today’s trip outside the city was the perfect antidote.

We set off first thing, heading northwest to Bandelier National Monument.  (Zoe and I are both directionally-challenged, and one real concern for us is getting lost on some back road with no cell signal.  Fortunately, this area is enough of a wilderness that there is really only one road and everywhere we went today basically just involved going straight.)

Bandelier is less than an hour from Santa Fe, and was well worth the trip.  The drive there was beautiful, winding through the mountains with a new vista around every corner.  We were first to arrive in the parking lot, just as the park opened at 9am.  Setting off on the main loop trail, we had the whole park to ourselves.

The main area of Bandelier winds through the

View from inside the cliff

Frijoles Canyon, which was the home of Pueblo people.  There are ruins of their brick buildings on the canyon floor, and the famous cliff dwellings that were hollowed out on the sides of the canyon.  Bandelier is possibly unique in that there are ladders along the trail that allow you to climb up and explore some of these cliff dwellings.

Unfortunately the section of the trail that is known for its long, steep ladder ascents has been closed since September due to flooding, so we didn’t get that adrenaline-pumping adventure.  Instead we took a side trail that climbed steeply to the top of the canyon and through a juniper forest.  The views were stunning and the silence was amazing.  With only one road (the park entrance road) within miles, and very little traffic on that, we could hear nothing except the rustle of wind and the occasional bird.  It made us realize how seldom we are able to experience that kind of silence in today’s world.

The second part of the main loop went through a very different ecosystem on the other side of the canyon.  Leaving the sun-baked exposed rocks, the trail wound into a forest and along a stream.  The trees and plants were completely different from what we’d seen in the forest on the top of the canyon.

By the time we got back we’d worked up an appetite.  Bandelier’s cafe (at which we were the only customers) is supposedly known for having the best burger in New Mexico — the “Doug”, which comes with American and mozzarella cheeses, carmelized onions, green chilis, and a whole chili relleno on top.  The lone restaurant worker recommended having the Doug made with an elk burger, so we went with his suggestion.  It was delicious.  (But luckily we decided to split one, along with a few other snacks.  I wasn’t even able to finish my half.)

Next up we continued down the road a while to Spence Springs, a natural hot spring along a hillside in the wilderness.  We weren’t quite sure if we’d be up for going in, but we took the mile-long trail down the side of a canyon then back up again.  It was a big treacherous with snow, ice, and mud, but we eventually made it (though my sneakers will never be the same).  There were two other people there soaking and we decided to go for it despite the chilly air.  It was pretty amazing sitting in the warm water, surrounded by snow drifts, with a view out over the surrounding mountains and no signs of civilization.  There was a cave on one side that you could barely squeeze into, and one of the guys who were there told us it was like a sauna inside.  Neither of us (nor his friend) were brave enough to do more than stick our heads in, despite the chill.

Our last stop was supposed to be the Valles Caldera National Monument, another huge park between Bandelier and the hot spring.  We had driven past it on the way, and upon our first glimpse were very confused to see what looked like a huge, snow-covered lake in the middle of the high desert.  But upon closer inspection, we realized it was the caldera of the huge volcano that erupted here long ago.  Since the ground inside was snow-covered and has no trees (except one strange raised area that looked like an island), it looked very much like a winter lake.

Not a lake!

When we pulled in, we saw that the entrance road was dirt and traveled downhill to the bottom of the caldera.  As we started down, the road became more snow-covered.  Looking at the long, long road winding away out of sight below, and thinking about the drive back up and the remoteness of our location, and remembering the multiple harrowing instances we’ve had of being stuck on uphill winter roads while on ski trips — I decided to bail out.  Luckily there were no other cars so I could just reverse back up the short distance we’d traveled.  So, we didn’t really get to enjoy this park other than the stunning views from the top (which were worth the stop in their own right).

No evening adventures today — we were both too tired to walk into town and didn’t feel like getting back into the car, so a quick board game, Door Dash, and an early bedtime it was.

The real reason we came to Santa Fe

On our second full day in New Mexico, we visited Meow Wolf’s Santa Fe installment. House of Eternal Return was one of, but not the only reason I wanted to come to Santa Fe in the first place. I was already a fan of Meow Wolf’s Denver exhibit, Convergence Station, which the whole family visited on our trip to Colorado this summer. I had a great time there but it left the rest of the family feeling tired and over stimulated. I felt a little bit bad about dragging everyone along on my whims, but that didn’t stop

Refrigerator that is also a portal to another dimension (?)

me from doing it again. Mom was very kind to me on this trip and was willing to spend quite a long time exploring the installation, which was designed as a house harboring numerous portals to other worlds in the aftermath of a mysterious “anomaly” involving the family that lived there. She claimed not to mind and told me that it was “better than the other one”. I had a great time wandering through the labyrinth of vibrantly themed rooms and unlocking pieces of the story on the accompanying app. We couldn’t believe how much of it there was to see! We made our way through most of the story but only found five or so of the twenty four variants of Nimsesku the hamster that were hidden about the place.

Super creepy clown room

Our next stop was Kakawa Chocolate House. One of their specialties is their drinking chocolate “elixirs”. We sampled several, including one that was completely unsweetened. We got some chocolate truffles to go, including their signature goat cheese and sage flavor, which Mom wasn’t sure about but I thought was pretty good.

 

After resting and playing a quick board game, we walked into town for our last stop of the day. Mom had read about Table For Two’s $10 happy hour drinks and appetizers. The restaurant turned out to be a bit fancier than either of us had expected, but the happy hour menu gave us an opportunity to sample several of their dishes without spending huge amounts of money. We tried mushroom risotto, crispy ravioli, pulled pork tacos, and beef kabobs, all of which were delicious.  

A city that is very cool, and very cold

The view from our apartment’s terrace.

Zoe and I are on vacation this week, belatedly celebrating her graduation last May. She had narrowed own destination down to either Ashville, NC (and Great Smoky Mountains National Park), or Santa Fe, NM. Given the recent sad events in Ashville, Santa Fe it was.

Who would have thought – cactus in the snow!

Possibly November was not the ideal time to visit. When I think about New Mexico, I think about desert and cactuses and sunshine. What I don’t think about is snow. And yet, here we are — bundled up in hats and gloves, tramping through snowdrifts. A woman in a shop told me that they’d gotten as much snow in this one storm as they’d gotten all year last year. Luckily we didn’t get caught in the storm itself, and we’ve been enjoying abundant sunshine and blue skies (but with temps that only range from 30 to 50).

Botanical gardens and paper crane sculpture

By the time we arrived on Saturday and drove up from Albuquerque, we didn’t have time to do much but have a very late dinner and go to bed. We inadvertently picked a VERY popular restaurant, which still had an hour wait at 8:15pm. Luckily this gave us just enough time to drive to our apartment rental and get ourselves checked in.  We got right into the spirit of things with house margaritas and a delicious Mexican dinner (our first of many encounters with chili sauce — your choice of red or green — which comes on almost everything.  Zoe and I went with the “Christmas” option.)

We couldn’t see much around our apartment in the dark, so it was a lovely surprise the next morning to see the clear view of the distant mountains, the sun shining brightly on the snow-covered peaks.  We’re in a great location on the eastern edge of the city, close to hiking trails on one side and a short walk into the central plaza on the other.  We started our day with a brief foray to Trader Joe’s for some provisions, and marveled at how much cheaper the groceries are here.

We had to do a fair amount of logistical planning today, because some things are closed on Sundays and many things are closed on Mondays.  Another wrench was thrown into our plans when the food tour we’d signed up for was canceled due to lack of participation.  So we decided to start out at the Botanical Gardens, a short drive south.  It was a little odd being in gardens where many of the plants were dead and/or snow-covered, but it was very peaceful and serene.  We saw the giant stalk of an agave plant and learned that these plants put up only one such stalk in their lifetime, after 20-40 years, and that the stalk grows several inches each day.  We inhaled the fresh scent of the juniper pinion trees while strolling on a winding path through the forest.  And we loved all the sculptures gracefully placed throughout the grounds.

We started the afternoon by walking the short distance from our apartment to Fort Marcy Park and the Cross of the Martyrs, a large white steel cross overlooking the city.  Downhill on the other side brought us Santa Fe Plaza, the center of the tourist area of the city.  Santa Fe doesn’t exactly have the feel of a city like we’re used to — no tall buildings, not a lot of traffic.  There is a fair amount of sprawl, but the city center is pleasant and walkable, and full of independent shops and art galleries.  We had a delicious, if decadent, lunch composed of three different types of mac & cheese (out of a menu featuring at least 10 types).  We did a little shopping around the plaza and from the Native Americans selling their wares in an outdoor market along the edge.  We checked out the Loretto Chapel, which has an amazing spiral staircase that appeared on Unsolved Mysteries because no one can figure out how it was built.

In the late afternoon we’d signed up for a sunset tour with the Sky Railway.  (We’d originally wanted to do the tour that involved an e-bike trip out on the rail trail and a train journey back, but were foiled due to the snow.)  The train leaves right from the middle of the city.  It has live entertainment and drinks, and travels out of the city through beautiful scenery while watching the sun set over the mountains.  There is a “flatcar” that is basically a platform with railings, so you can stand outside and watch the scenery.  That is, until you turn into an icicle.  We spent a lot of time on the flatcar, with occasional forays indoors to listen to the music and thaw out.

After our return we headed to a nearby restaurant for dinner, and once again were foiled by a long line.  (It’s very odd — the streets here are pretty quiet at night, with not a lot of traffic and very few pedestrians — but the restaurants are somehow packed.)  By the time we finished dinner and started our long-ish walk back home, we were definitely ready for bed.  (Being on East Coast time is great for getting moving in the morning, but does not lend itself to late nights.)