Two Kinds of Blue: Wordless Wednesday · Jul 1, 12:03 PM by James Martin
Filed in: General
A View of Bassano del Grappa · Jun 25, 07:35 PM by James Martin
I’ve been a little behind on the blog, being that this is only my second day home from Italy, so I thought I’d do an easy thing, and put up a picture I liked. This is the classic view of Bassano del Grappa in the Veneto region taken from the Ponte degli Alpini, a famous wooden bridge designed by Palladio in 1569.
I had a great time in the Veneto, so expect more from me on this subject. I know nobody wants to go there, but I don’t know why, so I figure you smoke them out with hard evidence of the charms of the place.
And, in this case, there’s also the Poli grappa museum, which is really quite entertaining. And it’s free, which doesn’t hurt either.
Filed in: Italy Travel General
Lost Horizon - Pisa, Italy · Jun 4, 02:21 PM by James Martin
What can you say? It’s a crazy world we live in. Especially the angles.
Filed in: General
How to Watch the Giro d'Italia · May 27, 09:00 AM by James Martin
I’ve now watched two stages of the Giro d’Italia. I doubt this qualifies me for anything, perhaps not even for the title of tifoso, the designation given to an Italian fan of cycling. I am not short of opinions on how to see the race, however.
As I see things, you have two basic choices for viewing. You can stand on top of a mountain pass, perhaps at the finish, where things slow down considerably. You’ll have to plan well in advance for this, perhaps sitting all day with people whose intelligence might be called into question considering the idiotic costumes they have decided to get decked out in. At the end the riders will be strung out. I mean they will be far apart. You will have many minutes in which to see men racing bicycles this way.
Or you can choose to stand at the side of the road in a place near a village (so that there’s access for your car when they close the road, which they do several hours before the race begins). It is the easy way out. The tourist way.
Few with any respect for the sport do this, of course. You could turn out to be the only person in the universe who has picked a particular spot to stand in—in which case you will be lonely and disappointed. But we are tourists and novices. This is our lot.
Before the race a gaggle of nicely attired but very bored constabulary ply the course on their spiffy motos. Leisurely. I don’t know about you, but these folks have never been of particular interest to me; I, in fact, try hard to avoide them under normal circumstances.
When an undulating line of cars with spare bicycles bolted to the roofs and decals announcing bike parts (and beverages you wouldn’t drink even if someone had shoved into your hand a lager glass full to dilute the poison you had inadvertently swallowed) you should put aside your loneliness for a moment and prepare for the impending arrival of of a pack of sweating cyclists punching a hole in the mountain air. Silently. This is unlikely to be a Sunday outing of the type you took with grandma. Which is why they pass so quickly.
When you finally hear the “chopper” position itself overhead you should be at the very apex of excitement. If you have had the foresight to position yourself on an incline, preferably a near vertical one, you might be in for a real treat as the bulging musculature of the stout-hearted men will be all that much more distinct, and you will be able to see it because they will be slowed by the incline.
Otherwise, especially near the start of a stage, expect about a minute and a half of multicolored, undulating snake. That’s pretty much all you can hope for.
The best thing you can do is to grab an outdoor table at a cafe along the route with other tifosi and a big screen television. Join in their joviality. Revel in their stories. Have several beers. Watch the whole race.
You might have to get there early to get a good seat.
There was no such place outside Poibbico when we went to view the 16th stage of the Giro, so we ended up at the Trattoria La Colombara, a road house restaurant just outside Piobbico dishing up some of the most incredible paparadelle with goat sauce I’ve ever eaten. Lots of tifosi were present. Race workers ate there. The television was on and tuned to the right channel for the giro.
Trouble was, when the race was supposed to start nothing happened. We asked what was up.
“Oh, they’ll pass here around three.”
They were supposed to pass at 2.
Ok, so we left and walked not in the direction of the race, but back into town for a coffee while we waited. There was a bar with a television outside. The folks were discussing when the race would hit Piobbico.
“20 minutes” the woman in the apron said.
“But, look at the television. They haven’t started!” I interjected. (Actually, I probably said something like, “Giro! non go! TV, saw nothing!” but I’d like to cut a more bella figura than reality usually hands me.)
She insisted she was right. A man explained that the television doesn’t show the whole race, and today didn’t show the start. Ooops.
So we jumped into the car and hightailed it to the intersection where the race was supposed to be. The cops on bikes were already coming through. The chopper could be heard.
(“Incoming!” yells Radar.)
And there they were. A small group. Zip…then, minutes later (it seemed like hours) the peloton comes swishing by in a tight pack, followed seconds later by the van announcing “the last bicycle has passed” or some such.
That was it.
Now, if we had wanted a more leisurely experience, we would have climbed the hill were the finish took place. We could have fought for a place about 2km from the end where the idiots in costume usually storm out onto the road and try to touch the butts of the cute guys on the bikes—you know, to urge them on. Or something. We would have been stuck there, of course, because the only road to the top was closed for the bike race.
But there we could have seen the guys wilted from the heat slog up the hill. Carlos Sastre, as it turns out, won. He could hardly hold his hand up for the winner’s salute.
It was exciting. We saw this on television. Thank God.
Filed in: Italy Travel Tips General
Driving Me Nuts · May 15, 12:34 AM by James Martin
You ever been scared of a benign old man? I have.
We’re sitting in the corner of a little piazza outside a bar in Fiorenzuola d’Arda, having a caffè while waiting for a train to arrive. There is a table crammed with anziani on the other side. They’ve finished their coffee. They arise, all except for the man with two canes.
The largest man gets behind cane man, looping his meaty arms under cane man’s armpits. He grunts to lift him. No dice. A woman comes over to help. Each take a side and pull up. Finally, after several unsuccessful tries, cane man gets lifted high enough to lock his knees and stand with the help of the tripod formed by his two unmatched canes and teetering body.
Cane man creeps forward, canes clattering on the pavement like castanets. He bumps a chair, which is removed from in front of him by a cohort, who turns him ever so slightly by the shoulders toward a new course. Their eyes do not meet.
Cane man goes as far as he can in a straight line. When his knees hit a big block of stone that keeps cars from parking amongst the bar’s tables, he turns 90 degrees and skirts the block. Feeling the block end with his calf, he turns toward the street where there is a car parked parallel to the block.
And then, ladies and gentlemen, he gets in the car along with his cohorts and drives away in it.
Lordy.
Filed in: Living in Italy General
Sinuous Waters of Acqua Rossa · May 12, 03:06 AM by James Martin
Northern Lazio is a hotbed of Etruscan archaeological sites. A small, interesting one north of Viterbo is called Acqua Rossa, named after the “red” water of the iron rich spring which colors everything it touches a rather vivid orange.
We never found the excavations of the village there. A “no hunting” sign had the words “avete distrutto tutti VANDALI” appended to it: “vandels have destroyed everything.” That’ll make you less interested in slogging through the undergrowth.
Back at the ranch in the Lunigiana we discover that there are indeed some good pictures of the excavation on the web. If it hadn’t been so darn early, we would have inquired at the Acquarossa restaurant on the big road to Viterbo and near the site.
But it was interesting to wander around the area of the spring, to see the water dancing down the chanels as you can see above.
Way off the beaten tourist track, but hey, also nearby is the Roman Teatro di Ferento, which isn’t open very often but which you can see easily from the fence. It’s in a very scenic area.
Filed in: Italy Travel Tips General
Well hung in Brescia · May 7, 02:34 PM by James Martin
Ok, so you’re making your way out of the Brescia train station, you look up, and low and behold you see a gaggle of very well hung Brescia men.
Hollow men, but still:
Filed in: Italy Travel General
Postcard from Alberobello · May 3, 02:08 PM by James Martin
Everyone knows that Alberobello is trulli country. The conical roofed stone houses are recognized everywhere.
I found an old postcard of Alberobello in the glory days. Wait. It’s not old. I took the picture two days ago and took out the color. There wasn’t much color, truth be told. Some things never change. Other things do.
Sepia dreams to you all.
Filed in: Italy Travel General