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Landed in Houston.

jb

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Leavin' on a Jet Plane

It's very early (or late) and I'm making my way back home. After a flight to Paris and another across the Atlantic, I'll be back to the States.

But, for now, I wait.
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Sometimes there's a restaurant car, and sometimes...

We're on our way back from our last weekend excursion. This one was to Rimini.

When selling us our tickets, our favorite travel agent failed to get us a reservation on the train. So, we're sitting on the hobo seats, standing up every two minutes to let a refreshment cart or passenger pass by. These hobo seats fold out of the wall, and really do appear to have been designed for hobos. The worst part of the hobo seat is that you must face directly into a windowed compartment full of passengers whose travel agents are competent. Whoever designed the hobo seat definitely had this arrangement in mind when he designed it.

This IC train has no restaurant car, or else we'd be in it, eating Cannelloni all the way to Arezzo.

I suppose travel isn't always comfortable, but it's always interesting.

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Ciao, Como

The weekend in Como is over. Unless you're hiking, Como is one of those trips for which an itinerary will do almost no good.

Putt-putt golf was the most strenuous part of our weekend. I'm sorry to say that the courses don't measure up to those in the States. Instead of Astroturf, like a quality course has, these are red, rubber contraptions that couldn't be faster. Half the challenge is keeping the ball 'on the red.'

We stayed in Menaggio, a charming little town that's about 45 minutes north of Como by bus. The bus ride is fantastic, though. The 45 minutes flies by, as long as you are on the right side of the bus, where the lake views are available. I'll have to consult a map, but it seemed that we were closer to Switzerland than the town of Como.

We took a boat to Bellaggio on Saturday. This is one of those places whose existence has been revealed to the world by Rick Steeves. Walking past the tourist shops and restaurants, the streets all smell like a flower shop. There are flowers everywhere: every yard is filled to capacity with a random assortment of the plants in a random assortment of colors.

I can barely believe it, but I have only two more weeks in Italy, and then the 'reassimilation shock' about which I've been warned.

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Celebration at Lago di Como

 

Menaggio

 

On the Ferry to Menaggio

Every time we mention to a new aquaintance that we're Texans, they usually make an elabroate gesture, throwing their hands in the air and taking a step back. We just met a couple from New York while waiting for our ferry from Bellaggio to Menaggio. After making the 'Texan gesture,' the man told us the story about the time he met Joe Dimaggio on an airplane: the flight attendant only recognized him as Mr. Coffee.

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To Como

We're headed to Como. Unfortunately, so is everyone else. Well, they're headed north, at least.

There is a huge furniture fair in Milano this weekend, which has filled every hotel in a 100km radius. All of the trains to Como are also full (one must pass through Milano to get to Como). We bought an InterCity train, got on a EuroStar, and just paid the difference to the man in the green jacket about 2 minutes ago. There are no unreserved seats on ES trains, so we'll be enjoying this Cannelloni for about 3 hours in the dining car.

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Pull Me Up

pull me up

Cinque Terre

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Originally uploaded by jon.boben

Foccacia in Manarola

Foccacia in Manarola
Originally uploaded by jon.boben

From our Terrace

 

This is the view from our terrace in Riomaggiore.

Sunset at The Cinque Terre

We're watching the sun begin to set from our terrace in Riomaggiore, one of the five towns of the ever-popular Cinque Terre. Booking 'hostels' online is typicaly a gamble, but we've been extremely lucky in almost every case. Our 'hostels' have turned out to be apartments, hotels, B&Bs, etc. The building we're in isn't brand new, but the view from our terrace is spectacular. We're facing westward, so we'll be able to see the sun [appear to] set in about an hour. The town looks like it erupted from the sea straight toward the sky. The buildings are tall, but yield to the ones behind them to share the view.



There have been more English speakers here than in any other place we've visited. We were amazed (and relieved) that so many people in Greece spoke English; now, when we have developed our ability to communicate basically in Italian, we are surrounded by English-speakers. I don't even know if Italians come to Cinque Terre: virtualy every voice I've heard from passers-by is in English. [Unfortunately, most of these voices are coming from the so-called 'ugly Americans.']



These five small towns are gorgeous. It's hard to imagine what kept them going before Rick Steeves alerted The Americas to their presence. The Cinque Terre's chief export, now, must be picturesque postcards.

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Hiking in Cinque Terre

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Originally uploaded by jon.boben

Arrived

We've finally arrived. Our travel time from Santa Chiara's front door to our room: 10 hours, 26 minutes.
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Per La Spezia

After some contemplation and a fairly simple calculation, we've determined this trip to be record-breaking.

We've been in-transit since 19:36 yesterday. Previously, our longest journey had been ours to Munchen. No more, though. Our trip to the ever-popular Cinque Terre has taken the prize.

We're on the leg of our trip from Pisa Centrale to La Spezia. There are people asleep in our seats, so we've resorted to using the pull-out seats typically designated for drifters. Confrontng sleeping strangers at 4:30 isn't something I'd like to add to my 'list of things I've done.'

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This Just In

The delay has just increased to 45 minutes. They have apologized for any inconveinence this may cause.
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Ritardo (Deja Vu)

Remember the forty minute delay that threw a wrench in all of our travel plans? Another delay, also forty minutes, has recently reared its ugly head. It looks like we might get the rare opportunity to see the sun rise from the La Spezia Centrale rail station.

Again, I can only hope that those green-jacketed men and women enjoyed a lovely day off.

Another item of note: our last train, from Firenze S.M.N. to Pisa Centrale, was number 6665; today's (yesterday's) date, of course, is (was) Friday the 13th. Coincedence? Almost certainly.
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One might think that after a day of enjoying their strike the train workers might be rejuvinated and ready to help would-be passengers. I have this image in my mind of portly men in green TrenItalia jackets using a slip-n-slide and sipping frozen drinks poolside. But, unfortunately, they're not particularly helpful tonight.

As it turns out, the earliest we'll reach Riomaggiore is 4:58. Should be a fabulous night ahead.
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