- What is the sound of one hand clapping?
- If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?
- If drunken Australlians have sex in your dorm room will it wake you up?
Well, the first two may always remain a mystery, but thanks to the alignment of the cosmos and an empty bottle of Rumpelmintz in our trash, we know the answer to the third. Yes. Yes it will.
Off now to a bar which shows the American Football matches. Geaux Tigers and Boomer Sooner!!!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Parma - Proscuitto Festival
So after loafing in Ferrara and some logistical snafus, we finally ended up in Parma around 7pm. We hustled to the info booth a minute before it closed and got some information on where the festival is being held this weekend. It was in a town called Sala Baganza, (say that in your best Italian accent, it is fun). She told us there were shuttle buses in the town to take us to the factory, so we got a bus schedule and were set. For some reason I didnt think this was going to work out, but things were looking good. There are a million salumeries selling Proscuitto and Parmesean and all kinds of goodies. They make a wine here called Lambruscco. It is a sparkling red that has a bit of sweetness. It makes a perfect accompaniment to the salty savory proscuitto and parmesean. It loses its fizzyness when it gets exported so they shoot it up with CO2, which makes it crap and relegates it to the bottom of the shelf next to the Cooks.
We headed out the next morning under a light drizzle and caught our bus. Now riding the bus in Italy, there are no announced stops so you are kinda flying by the seat of your pants. I finally walked up to the driver and asked him. He let me know the stop and even pointed us toward the town center, which I dont think we would have ever found. We see the town center and see them setting up some tents, sweet this is really going to happen. We see the shuttle buses and sign up to get on one. A few minutes and we are off. At the factory we don some sanitary gear and get ready to go.
It is just Brooke and I and a group of about 10 older Italians who are absolutely adorably perfect. If there was a movie and it called for a group of funny older Italians, this would be it. The tour is in Italian, but we dont care. We get the gist of it and the Italians are joking and cutting up and making for an entertaining time. We get into the source and it is great. Seeing how it is made and the thousands of hams hanging everywhere at every stage of the process is pretty cool.
At the end of the tour is of course, free Proscuitto and Lambrusco wine (and our first good bread of the trip). We indulge pretty happily. I start leaning against the wall with some wine in my hand cuz we woke up early and one of the Italian grandmothers comes up to me (she comes up to about my chest), jokingly asks in Italian if I am too drunk to stand, pinches my cheek and then gives me a little slap on the cheek. These people are priceless.
We are about to leave when we learn that the tour is going to be given in English next. Sweet! We hang out indulging in free goodies and wait for it to start. The woman is giving the tour in Italian, French, then English. She really just came to show her friend around the factory and got roped into doing a tour. We go through the tour again and thank her profusely. A few more free goodies and we head back to the town center.
We get a couple of plates of Proscuitto and Parmesean and a bottle of Lambrussco and hang out in heaven. The prosciutto (and factory) smells delicious and looks like it has flakes of gold in it. This is the best tasting prosciutto we have ever had. And the parmesan was pretty tasty, too.
This festival doesnt seem to wild, probably in part because it is raining. It looks like a stage is being setup, but we need some downtime and we head back to Parma.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Ferrara
We had a day until we needed to be in Parma for the Proscuitto festival so we decided to go to Ferrara. What a great little town. Not far from Bologna, nearer to the Adriatic, still in Emilia-Romogna. We got a nice little hotel right in the medieval center. The narrow cobblestone streets, a castle with a moat smack in the middle of town and 90% of the populace riding around on bikes all combine to create a magical storybook atmosphere. It has been Brookes favorite town so far and I wont disagree with her (I cant find the apostrophe on this keyboard if you havent noticed). Bologna was a little bigger and bustling than we expected and this was a nice change of pace. Not many tourists and just oozing with charm. No priceless works of art, but a feeling of really being in Italy.
While walking around we noticed an old wine shop. We passed it up and then decided to go back in. It looked like it hadnt changed since the turn of the century. Old wine bottles from floor to ceiling, old pictures, wooden antiquey stuff and just for good measure a flourescent green bottle of absinthe. There was also a little bar where we got our first Prosecco of the trip, man it was good. Now, sitting around for a minute we saw the guy preparing some food and chatting with the old timers that were filtering in. Now, what is Prosecco without some cheese. I ordered a cheese plate and our minds were blown. It was a Pecorino served with salt and pepper. Now, I always thought Pecorino was one kind of cheese, a drier, aged cheese with a consistency close to parmesean. We learned that there are about 50 kinds of Pecorino. From the fresca variety to the aged one we were familiar with. This one was aged a few months, just enough to give it some flavor but still keeping a creamy texture. It was a bit like a mild creamy aged cheddar mixed with a touch of parmesean. It was by far the best cheese either of us had ate. What a great little find, and to think we almost passed it up.
On our Prosecco and cheese high, we decided to go out for a nice romantic seafood dinner. We found a little place nearby with a pretty wicked looking seafood menu. It was dark and romantic, old stone walls with a stone well in the building, but finished in a modern fashion with white tablecloths and an attentive waitstaff. We sat down and they rolled a fresh fish cart towards us. I have never seen anything like this before. There were a bunch of fish that I could not recognize and they were jabbering in Italian and showing us each one and I can only guess describing it. We ordered some appetizers and put off the intimidating process of fish ordering. We got some Adriatic oysters and a swordfish and salmon carpaccio. The oysters where a little more compact than Gulf oysters. A little sweeter and a little saltier, but nothing like the sharp, bold taste of the Pacific variety. Real good overall, albiet pricey. No horseradish though. Heathens. The carpaccio was delicious, thin slices of really fresh fish on a bed of greens.
So they rolled the seafood cart back and I picked out a fish he seemed to recommend. Brooke steered clear of the hornets nest and got some of the local speciality, homemade pasta stuffed with pumpkin/cheese and a cream sauce. It sounds a bit weird but it was really good, with the sweet and savory flavors mixing well. The fish was absolutely perfect. Breaded and baked it was tender, white and flaky. Great dinner overall, but when the bill came, oh boy. This is no South Louisiana all you can eat seafood platter prices. The fish was priced per hectagram so there was no real good way to know what it would cost. Lets just say that renting a boat and two guides for a day of fishing in Pacific Mexico and catching our own fish was a cheaper alternative. No worries, it was romantic and delicious, and when the hell are we going to be in Ferrarra again.
The next day our hotel lent us some bikes and we cruised around the city. Riding on and around the medieval walls surrounding the city. We passed through a garden/park area and snatched a couple of purple grapes and a fig that were just too tempting to pass up. Passing through the narrow streets with all the other bikers, we felt like part of the crew. Now everyone in this city rides bikes. They ride while smoking, talking on a cell phone and we even saw a guy eating gelato riding his bike with no hands. It was really a great little diversion. We checked out the castle and then hit the road to Parma, Proscuitto festival here we come.
While walking around we noticed an old wine shop. We passed it up and then decided to go back in. It looked like it hadnt changed since the turn of the century. Old wine bottles from floor to ceiling, old pictures, wooden antiquey stuff and just for good measure a flourescent green bottle of absinthe. There was also a little bar where we got our first Prosecco of the trip, man it was good. Now, sitting around for a minute we saw the guy preparing some food and chatting with the old timers that were filtering in. Now, what is Prosecco without some cheese. I ordered a cheese plate and our minds were blown. It was a Pecorino served with salt and pepper. Now, I always thought Pecorino was one kind of cheese, a drier, aged cheese with a consistency close to parmesean. We learned that there are about 50 kinds of Pecorino. From the fresca variety to the aged one we were familiar with. This one was aged a few months, just enough to give it some flavor but still keeping a creamy texture. It was a bit like a mild creamy aged cheddar mixed with a touch of parmesean. It was by far the best cheese either of us had ate. What a great little find, and to think we almost passed it up.
On our Prosecco and cheese high, we decided to go out for a nice romantic seafood dinner. We found a little place nearby with a pretty wicked looking seafood menu. It was dark and romantic, old stone walls with a stone well in the building, but finished in a modern fashion with white tablecloths and an attentive waitstaff. We sat down and they rolled a fresh fish cart towards us. I have never seen anything like this before. There were a bunch of fish that I could not recognize and they were jabbering in Italian and showing us each one and I can only guess describing it. We ordered some appetizers and put off the intimidating process of fish ordering. We got some Adriatic oysters and a swordfish and salmon carpaccio. The oysters where a little more compact than Gulf oysters. A little sweeter and a little saltier, but nothing like the sharp, bold taste of the Pacific variety. Real good overall, albiet pricey. No horseradish though. Heathens. The carpaccio was delicious, thin slices of really fresh fish on a bed of greens.
So they rolled the seafood cart back and I picked out a fish he seemed to recommend. Brooke steered clear of the hornets nest and got some of the local speciality, homemade pasta stuffed with pumpkin/cheese and a cream sauce. It sounds a bit weird but it was really good, with the sweet and savory flavors mixing well. The fish was absolutely perfect. Breaded and baked it was tender, white and flaky. Great dinner overall, but when the bill came, oh boy. This is no South Louisiana all you can eat seafood platter prices. The fish was priced per hectagram so there was no real good way to know what it would cost. Lets just say that renting a boat and two guides for a day of fishing in Pacific Mexico and catching our own fish was a cheaper alternative. No worries, it was romantic and delicious, and when the hell are we going to be in Ferrarra again.
The next day our hotel lent us some bikes and we cruised around the city. Riding on and around the medieval walls surrounding the city. We passed through a garden/park area and snatched a couple of purple grapes and a fig that were just too tempting to pass up. Passing through the narrow streets with all the other bikers, we felt like part of the crew. Now everyone in this city rides bikes. They ride while smoking, talking on a cell phone and we even saw a guy eating gelato riding his bike with no hands. It was really a great little diversion. We checked out the castle and then hit the road to Parma, Proscuitto festival here we come.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Gorgonzola is the New Black
Now, I have always liked gorgonzola, but never knew that I could love it so much. I always assumed it was from France. I don't know why, but I did. It is actually from a town near Milan, aptly named Gorgonzola. In Italy, they also love gorgonzola and these Italians know how to use it. I have had it in risotto, with honey, in ravioli and just plain by itself. It melts in your mouth. I plan on eating it several other ways, too, I just haven't figured it out yet. Perhaps gelato? hmm....
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Bologna
Ah Bologna, affectionately referred to as La Grassa, or The Fat One by Italians, although nobody is really fat there. It is home to the oldest university in Europe and consequently is full of beautiful young people *B interlude...to say that everyone in this city is beautiful is definitely not an understatement*. I love being around fiery Italians. When I eavsedrop on people I cannot tell if they are mad and yelling at each other or are excited to see each other or maybe just making plans for lunch. It is all done in the same exaggerated loud tones, I am home.
Bologna is situaded in the region of Emilia-Romagna and is in the lush Po river valley. They grow lots of food here including a ton of wheat here and consequently there are about 40 different types of pasta. This town is famous for a lot of food and came up with Tortellini (my personal favorite), lasagna, pasta Bolognese, mortadella and nearby towns invented proscuitto, parmeseano and balsamic vinegar. Food is good here, really good. The first night we ate an antipasta plate (Mortadella, meats, cheeses, pickeled veggies), then I had Toretllini stuffed with sweet sausage and covered in Bolognese (meat) sauce. For lunch I ate two kinds of torellini, one with ricotta and sage and the other in a meat broth, kinda like Pho. Another night I ate lasagna that made me want to cry it was so good and I found another local speciality: It is a veal cutlet, breaded, fried in butter, coverd in ham, then cheese and finished with some sauce. Sweet jesus. Brooke got in on the tortellini train too, but does not remember with as much clarity the various things she ate. *I think I am still stuck on the Gorgonzola risotto that I ate in Lugano. Is there anything better than that? I had a big salad (it's like a salad, only bigger) and it was sooo yummy. In the land of all this pasta, I needed some greens.*
We went out one night with some friends that we met in Venice. We went to an Irish pub and talked about traveling and all kind of stuff. It was nice to share experiences past and present with new friends.
Bologna was nice but a bigger city than I had anticipated. A lot of the central area has porticos covering cafes and shops. It has a nice little old quarter with a Neptune fountain, cobbolstone streets and some towers that rich people pretty much built because they could. Bologna used to have around 100 or so towers, but time and the Allied bombing campaign of WWII has left only a handful. We climbed a tower, 500 steps or so *499 to be exact*, and got a good view of the city. I was talking to an older gentlemen on the way up and I asked if he was from Scotland. He said no, Northern England, York, if I was Scottish you would not be able to understand me. Right, noted. He said the best British beer comes from there and beer from London is crap. I want to explore Northern England a bit so Yorkshire might be in the cards.
Great city overall. Wonderful food. Nice to be away from the tourist hordes. Not a lot of tourists here because as one article I read said, the Colosseum is in Rome, the Boticellis are in Florence and the canals are in Venice. Bologna is great and well worth it, but on a limited time schedule people definitely bypass it. *If you love Italian food, and come on who doesn't, you should definitely visit this place. Everyone is so, so nice and friendly, it is gorgeous with arches everywhere (I learned the difference between Gothic and Roman arches), and lots and lots of churches. Next we went headed to what is so far my favorite town and the place I will someday move to - Ferrara. Now, we must go eat some Florentine food (which does not include spinach, but a lot of soup.) *
Bologna is situaded in the region of Emilia-Romagna and is in the lush Po river valley. They grow lots of food here including a ton of wheat here and consequently there are about 40 different types of pasta. This town is famous for a lot of food and came up with Tortellini (my personal favorite), lasagna, pasta Bolognese, mortadella and nearby towns invented proscuitto, parmeseano and balsamic vinegar. Food is good here, really good. The first night we ate an antipasta plate (Mortadella, meats, cheeses, pickeled veggies), then I had Toretllini stuffed with sweet sausage and covered in Bolognese (meat) sauce. For lunch I ate two kinds of torellini, one with ricotta and sage and the other in a meat broth, kinda like Pho. Another night I ate lasagna that made me want to cry it was so good and I found another local speciality: It is a veal cutlet, breaded, fried in butter, coverd in ham, then cheese and finished with some sauce. Sweet jesus. Brooke got in on the tortellini train too, but does not remember with as much clarity the various things she ate. *I think I am still stuck on the Gorgonzola risotto that I ate in Lugano. Is there anything better than that? I had a big salad (it's like a salad, only bigger) and it was sooo yummy. In the land of all this pasta, I needed some greens.*
We went out one night with some friends that we met in Venice. We went to an Irish pub and talked about traveling and all kind of stuff. It was nice to share experiences past and present with new friends.
Bologna was nice but a bigger city than I had anticipated. A lot of the central area has porticos covering cafes and shops. It has a nice little old quarter with a Neptune fountain, cobbolstone streets and some towers that rich people pretty much built because they could. Bologna used to have around 100 or so towers, but time and the Allied bombing campaign of WWII has left only a handful. We climbed a tower, 500 steps or so *499 to be exact*, and got a good view of the city. I was talking to an older gentlemen on the way up and I asked if he was from Scotland. He said no, Northern England, York, if I was Scottish you would not be able to understand me. Right, noted. He said the best British beer comes from there and beer from London is crap. I want to explore Northern England a bit so Yorkshire might be in the cards.
Great city overall. Wonderful food. Nice to be away from the tourist hordes. Not a lot of tourists here because as one article I read said, the Colosseum is in Rome, the Boticellis are in Florence and the canals are in Venice. Bologna is great and well worth it, but on a limited time schedule people definitely bypass it. *If you love Italian food, and come on who doesn't, you should definitely visit this place. Everyone is so, so nice and friendly, it is gorgeous with arches everywhere (I learned the difference between Gothic and Roman arches), and lots and lots of churches. Next we went headed to what is so far my favorite town and the place I will someday move to - Ferrara. Now, we must go eat some Florentine food (which does not include spinach, but a lot of soup.) *
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Venice
So we headed over to Venice. I mean what can you say really, every time you move there is a picture perfect view of a canal with and old bridge and a beautiful old houses in the background. It is like a story book. Venice was a world power for a couple of centuries and it shows. They spared no expense on their public works and flaunted their wealth with impunity.
St. Mark's Basillica is a prime example of this. I think half the place is covered in gold and jewels. It is spectacular. A lot of Venetian history is preserved and displayed in the Basillica and various other museums. Coins, armor, paintings, sculptures. The Doge's (mayor) palace was a good tour. It was a good history of how Venice was run as well as a stunning building with beautiful art including the largest oil painting in the world. I especially enjoyed the paintings of the naval battles. This was a well organized city with it's own code of law that was strictly enforced. There was a lot of money via trading on the line and keeping this money flowing was a prime of objective of the ruling council.
We had a Vaporetti (big water taxi's) pass and we used it a bunch. Heading over to various islands and around the city by boat. It is no Gondola ride, but for $120 the Gondola was not really a great idea. There is a cemetery island we visited and we also went to Murano where they blow artisinal glass. The glass blowers were kicked off the main island because their kilns kept lighting things on fire and they didn't want the city to burn. We picniced on Murano and watched the sunset one night. All the day trippers were gone and the tourist hoards had left and it was just us and some locals. A group of old women were gossiping near us and the teenagers were cruising the canal in their boats, some bumping their tunes and others just cutting up and checking each other out.
All the boats are so cool. Outside the canals the bays are divided into 'roadways' so that everyone is not just cruising around randomly. There is a lot of traffic and I am amazed that nobody crashes into each other. I would love to have a boat around here and just cruise around.
In our hostel we stayed in a room with another couple. They had been traveling for a few months and were on the last leg of their trip. We hit it off and ended up hanging out for a bit in the next city we went to, Bologna (more on this next).
It is a bit hard to find good food in Venice. There are so many tourists that places don't have to try very hard and so the quality of the food suffers. Now, when I say there are a lot of tourists, I mean a LOT OF TOURISTS. They outnumber the local populace at least 2 to 1. Fortunately people are crowded into the same area and if you take a little time to wander off the beaten path a bit, you can find the real Venice, with families going about their lives.
I am writing this in Bologna and will talk about that next. We are off to Ferrara next then to Parma for the Proscuitto festival.
Ciao
St. Mark's Basillica is a prime example of this. I think half the place is covered in gold and jewels. It is spectacular. A lot of Venetian history is preserved and displayed in the Basillica and various other museums. Coins, armor, paintings, sculptures. The Doge's (mayor) palace was a good tour. It was a good history of how Venice was run as well as a stunning building with beautiful art including the largest oil painting in the world. I especially enjoyed the paintings of the naval battles. This was a well organized city with it's own code of law that was strictly enforced. There was a lot of money via trading on the line and keeping this money flowing was a prime of objective of the ruling council.
We had a Vaporetti (big water taxi's) pass and we used it a bunch. Heading over to various islands and around the city by boat. It is no Gondola ride, but for $120 the Gondola was not really a great idea. There is a cemetery island we visited and we also went to Murano where they blow artisinal glass. The glass blowers were kicked off the main island because their kilns kept lighting things on fire and they didn't want the city to burn. We picniced on Murano and watched the sunset one night. All the day trippers were gone and the tourist hoards had left and it was just us and some locals. A group of old women were gossiping near us and the teenagers were cruising the canal in their boats, some bumping their tunes and others just cutting up and checking each other out.
All the boats are so cool. Outside the canals the bays are divided into 'roadways' so that everyone is not just cruising around randomly. There is a lot of traffic and I am amazed that nobody crashes into each other. I would love to have a boat around here and just cruise around.
In our hostel we stayed in a room with another couple. They had been traveling for a few months and were on the last leg of their trip. We hit it off and ended up hanging out for a bit in the next city we went to, Bologna (more on this next).
It is a bit hard to find good food in Venice. There are so many tourists that places don't have to try very hard and so the quality of the food suffers. Now, when I say there are a lot of tourists, I mean a LOT OF TOURISTS. They outnumber the local populace at least 2 to 1. Fortunately people are crowded into the same area and if you take a little time to wander off the beaten path a bit, you can find the real Venice, with families going about their lives.
I am writing this in Bologna and will talk about that next. We are off to Ferrara next then to Parma for the Proscuitto festival.
Ciao
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Road to Europe
Ok, I swear we are going to post more often. I still need to backfill a couple of stories in Mexico, having our raft flip on a raging river and drinking moonshine in the back of a truck with some Italians comes to mind. Hopefully when we have free internet somewhere we can do it.
(no pics this time, this computer is locked down tight)
So off to Europe we go. Just one more note on airplane etiquette: No cowboy boots on the tray tables, this includes you ladies. Ok, with that out of the way the flight went well. Landed in clean orderly Zurich and bought our train tickets to Lugano. I felt like Switzerland would be a good starting point. An amalgamation of French, German and Italian cultures with some order and cleanliness tying them all together. (Brooke`s note: Switzerland is the most gorgeous place I have ever seen in my life.) Brooke was pleased that she fit in a bit better here, rather than the giant white people that just stood out in Southern Mexico. In Zurich we bought our first food. Brooke purchased what I can only imagine is the national food of Switzerland, a giant pretzel (German), stuffed with Salami (Italian) and a little surprise inside, some French butter. Decadent, rich and a little taste of the great food to come.
The train ride is just gorgeous. It was a bit overcast, but it did little to dampen the spectacular natural beauty. Blue lakes composed of glacier runoff and snowmelt, soaring peaks, waterfalls, clear rock strewn rivers, green pines and pastures. Just stunning. Brooke was sufficiently wowed, and I couldn`t be happier to be back in this beautiful place. (B: Seriously, I do not know what could be more gorgeous than mountains, lakes that look like the water just fell from the glacier, white houses with brown roofs, and the feeling that Heidi or Swiss Miss was going to pop out at any minute. Am I going to survive the rest of this gorgeous continent?)
Arriving in Lugano, it just got nicer. Even the train station has a beautiful Italian facade and is on a hill overlooking a gorgeous lake surrounded by steep mountains. Lugano is a resort town just north of the Italian border where Swiss and Germans come on holiday. It is warm for Switzerland (in the upper 70`s when we arrived) and it rarely snows. They plant palm trees everywhere to add to the tropical feel (fuzzy, date palms, not the coconut palms of Mexico - Chrissy, there are a few pics just for you). Down the street from our hostel is Bar Cuba and Bar Siesta. Everyone is so polite here. When driving, people will stop and let others in, and pedestrians always have the right of way (B: ALWAYS! It is amazing how nice people are in this city, I cannot get over it.). It is a bit bizarre after having come from Mexico where the cops almost ran us over when we were crossing with the right of way.
We got to our hostel and it was clean and well run, we took a little cat nap and then hit the town. There is a pedestrian area downtown near the lake that is lined with high-end boutiques and cafes. The guide book recommended eating in the cafeteria of a department store. It steered us right for sure. Pasta bar, pizza made fresh in front of you, soups, self-draft beer. Just what we needed. You pick the ingredients you want in your pizza, then hand them to the guy and let him know if you want salami or proscuitto and he cooks it up in a few minutes. A little gorgonzola, mushroom and proscuitto and we were good to go. Back to the hostel sleep off the rest of the jet lag.
Day two we strolled around the lake soaking in the scenery and took a funiculare (cable car) up to the top of a mountain where you can see the whole lakes region for miles around. Lake Como is nearby, which Brooke never fails to remind me is where Clooney has a home. Noted. You can see Milan on a clear day, which it was not. There were some loud ass Germans on the trip up, they were actually dressed in liederhosen and just making a racket. No worries, we hiked around the top a bit and took in the views and had a little picnic.
Dinner was at a casual little restaurant in the basement of some building. Family-like atmosphere with house wine in carafes and great home-cooked Italian food. The wine was served into bowls that looked like teacups without handles and the water was served in wine glasses. Brooke had Gorgonzola Risotto (yeah, it is as good as it sounds) and I had a homemade sausage with Risotto (B: regular, boring risotto, not the bomb risotto that I had :-). We saw a Capoera troupe perform in the street, had some gelato and called it a night.
The next day we slept in (or I did at least). Still working off that jetlag. We were on our way to go visit the school I went to for a year in 10th grade (TASIS) in a nearby hilltop town (Montangola). We stopped for some espresso with cream, our new favorite breakfast drink, when it started to rain. We waited for it to stop for a bit and had a beer, a great way to start any day. It finally stopped and we went on our way. The school has expanded since I had been there. New buildings, but still retained the old charm. It is built in the middle of the town with narrow cobblestone streets winding all around it. I remember it being beautiful, but I think I appreciate it a bit more now. Perched on a hill overlooking the town of Lugano and the lake, it is really something. Brooke was blown away and just couldn`t believe it. Surrounded by grape vines, orchards and stunning hilltop homes. (B: Okmulgee High School, it was not. There will be descriptions in the pictures, but let me just tell you that I hit Sammer a bunch of times while saying "I can`t believe you went to school here." Wow, it is freaking beautiful. Have I mentioned that this is a gorgeous country?)
We have been stopped and asked for directions three times since we have been here. It is nice to fit in again. Brooke attributes it to her tan and European fashion sense, but I am going with the Italian blood running through my veins. (Brooke says "whatever".) Either way, everyone feels stupid when we say we don`t speak Italian. The water here is pure and delicious. It taste like God`s sweat and they have drinking fountains every so often that tap into underground springs. (B: The water from our bathroom sink tastes like what I imagine gold to taste like. It is so yummy and delicious. I bet the chocolate is just as tasty, but the only kind I have found in the store is Belgian, which was great, but I am in Switzerland and I want to eat some Swiss chocolate.)
Well, off to Venice tomorrow. Hopefully some pics will be up soon. Ciao!
(no pics this time, this computer is locked down tight)
So off to Europe we go. Just one more note on airplane etiquette: No cowboy boots on the tray tables, this includes you ladies. Ok, with that out of the way the flight went well. Landed in clean orderly Zurich and bought our train tickets to Lugano. I felt like Switzerland would be a good starting point. An amalgamation of French, German and Italian cultures with some order and cleanliness tying them all together. (Brooke`s note: Switzerland is the most gorgeous place I have ever seen in my life.) Brooke was pleased that she fit in a bit better here, rather than the giant white people that just stood out in Southern Mexico. In Zurich we bought our first food. Brooke purchased what I can only imagine is the national food of Switzerland, a giant pretzel (German), stuffed with Salami (Italian) and a little surprise inside, some French butter. Decadent, rich and a little taste of the great food to come.
The train ride is just gorgeous. It was a bit overcast, but it did little to dampen the spectacular natural beauty. Blue lakes composed of glacier runoff and snowmelt, soaring peaks, waterfalls, clear rock strewn rivers, green pines and pastures. Just stunning. Brooke was sufficiently wowed, and I couldn`t be happier to be back in this beautiful place. (B: Seriously, I do not know what could be more gorgeous than mountains, lakes that look like the water just fell from the glacier, white houses with brown roofs, and the feeling that Heidi or Swiss Miss was going to pop out at any minute. Am I going to survive the rest of this gorgeous continent?)
Arriving in Lugano, it just got nicer. Even the train station has a beautiful Italian facade and is on a hill overlooking a gorgeous lake surrounded by steep mountains. Lugano is a resort town just north of the Italian border where Swiss and Germans come on holiday. It is warm for Switzerland (in the upper 70`s when we arrived) and it rarely snows. They plant palm trees everywhere to add to the tropical feel (fuzzy, date palms, not the coconut palms of Mexico - Chrissy, there are a few pics just for you). Down the street from our hostel is Bar Cuba and Bar Siesta. Everyone is so polite here. When driving, people will stop and let others in, and pedestrians always have the right of way (B: ALWAYS! It is amazing how nice people are in this city, I cannot get over it.). It is a bit bizarre after having come from Mexico where the cops almost ran us over when we were crossing with the right of way.
We got to our hostel and it was clean and well run, we took a little cat nap and then hit the town. There is a pedestrian area downtown near the lake that is lined with high-end boutiques and cafes. The guide book recommended eating in the cafeteria of a department store. It steered us right for sure. Pasta bar, pizza made fresh in front of you, soups, self-draft beer. Just what we needed. You pick the ingredients you want in your pizza, then hand them to the guy and let him know if you want salami or proscuitto and he cooks it up in a few minutes. A little gorgonzola, mushroom and proscuitto and we were good to go. Back to the hostel sleep off the rest of the jet lag.
Day two we strolled around the lake soaking in the scenery and took a funiculare (cable car) up to the top of a mountain where you can see the whole lakes region for miles around. Lake Como is nearby, which Brooke never fails to remind me is where Clooney has a home. Noted. You can see Milan on a clear day, which it was not. There were some loud ass Germans on the trip up, they were actually dressed in liederhosen and just making a racket. No worries, we hiked around the top a bit and took in the views and had a little picnic.
Dinner was at a casual little restaurant in the basement of some building. Family-like atmosphere with house wine in carafes and great home-cooked Italian food. The wine was served into bowls that looked like teacups without handles and the water was served in wine glasses. Brooke had Gorgonzola Risotto (yeah, it is as good as it sounds) and I had a homemade sausage with Risotto (B: regular, boring risotto, not the bomb risotto that I had :-). We saw a Capoera troupe perform in the street, had some gelato and called it a night.
The next day we slept in (or I did at least). Still working off that jetlag. We were on our way to go visit the school I went to for a year in 10th grade (TASIS) in a nearby hilltop town (Montangola). We stopped for some espresso with cream, our new favorite breakfast drink, when it started to rain. We waited for it to stop for a bit and had a beer, a great way to start any day. It finally stopped and we went on our way. The school has expanded since I had been there. New buildings, but still retained the old charm. It is built in the middle of the town with narrow cobblestone streets winding all around it. I remember it being beautiful, but I think I appreciate it a bit more now. Perched on a hill overlooking the town of Lugano and the lake, it is really something. Brooke was blown away and just couldn`t believe it. Surrounded by grape vines, orchards and stunning hilltop homes. (B: Okmulgee High School, it was not. There will be descriptions in the pictures, but let me just tell you that I hit Sammer a bunch of times while saying "I can`t believe you went to school here." Wow, it is freaking beautiful. Have I mentioned that this is a gorgeous country?)
We have been stopped and asked for directions three times since we have been here. It is nice to fit in again. Brooke attributes it to her tan and European fashion sense, but I am going with the Italian blood running through my veins. (Brooke says "whatever".) Either way, everyone feels stupid when we say we don`t speak Italian. The water here is pure and delicious. It taste like God`s sweat and they have drinking fountains every so often that tap into underground springs. (B: The water from our bathroom sink tastes like what I imagine gold to taste like. It is so yummy and delicious. I bet the chocolate is just as tasty, but the only kind I have found in the store is Belgian, which was great, but I am in Switzerland and I want to eat some Swiss chocolate.)
Well, off to Venice tomorrow. Hopefully some pics will be up soon. Ciao!
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