taxi bus donkey

On Monday I sorted out my travel plans to Greece, flying direct from Milan to Salonica was the best option but due to something which nobody was able to adequately explain to me, tickets for this journey were approximately 560 euro one way. A visit to the travel agent and some explanation of the nuances of the way that airline ticketing works in this country meant than i walked out with tickets from Pisa to Rome and Rome to Athens at about 200 euro, these were return tickets, but i was not going to return,.. the one way tickets cost twice as much as the return tickets (that makes sense) and some poor sod would miss out on a flight from Athens to rome because they had allocated a seat for my ass even though I would be several hundred kilometres away in a village. (more…)

Alfredo sits in one of the narrow laneways that extend from his humble hotel, he sleeps in a deckchair, his beer gradually gets warmer, his grey chest hair billows forth from the area which would normally be covered by a shirt.

Alfredo is a wise man, modern wise, not Michelangelo wise. Knowing that family is a good source of free and reasonably reliable, but more importantly free labour played his part in the production of child. His son, now approximately 30 years old… maybe more.. maybe less, is regularly seen around Lucca steering one of the various forms of hotel “Le Torre” branded means of transportation betwixt the various areas of lodging they manage. (more…)

The flu whose seed I had sown in the storms of Bologna, the aching left foot I had souveniered after a week of 10km a day walks through Venice, the stabbing back I had twisted out shape in the air conditioned mirage of a hotel room in Firenze, and a sore throat aggravated by a night’s talking and laughing with friends in Lucca have joined forces and clouded my ability to experience.

My will to travel and experience was still strong, but the need to rest reflect and capture wayward thoughts was now speaking louder to compensate for its relative lack of importance. (more…)

It was still rather early in the evening so we took the opportunity to walk Lucca’s streets and attempt to achieve the “are we lost yet” heights of touristic utopia.

It was a postcard tour of about 2 hours duration, the amfiteatro, piazza napoleone, churches, puccini’s birthplace and even stumbling across the (its actually pretty big) aquaduct that supplies most of the town’s drinking water, and it seems most of the town’s empty beer bottles and other general refuse…. yeah but at least it was clean garbage, god bless italy.

We returned to trattoria gigi for another round of great food and bevvy, this time accompanied by good and varied conversation. (more…)

More positive tourist Karma at work with my fortunate choice of lodgings at Le Torre deep in da heart of Lucca. The owner Alfredo and his loveleeee wife are absolute characters. He spends most of the day sitting around Piazza del Carmine talking to the other locals, making smalltalk with the tenants that he likes all the while sporting a rather well worn pair of black trousers, the government issue dark brown sandals and a shirt (please note the use of the singular) which he, like a skilled catwalk model or experienced seamstress, transforms into various “looks”When in idle mode (this is his default mode), the shirt would be draped over the back of his chair or similarly draped over one or occasionally two shoulders. In the one full afternoon I spent with him, testing my Italian as we watched the shadows lengthen across the piazza his establishment (more…)

Lucca didn’t need fireworks, men on horseback or architectural feats to grab my attention, Why people stay in Florence when Lucca is only 90 mins further up the train line I dont know… why anybody would dream of staying in Pisa when lucca is only 20 mins up the train line is something that will baffle me for quite some time, but it is to my gain so why worry. (more…)

Having promised myself to return to Florence and try and find some love for the town the whole world bar me seemed to worship was… unsuccesful. I did my best, s

I tayed in a better hotel, went to the sights and wandered the streets, but there was so much I didn’t like about this town. There were several things i did like. Most of these moments happened when i walked to the outskirts of the town centre to areas like Santo Croce where the Calcio Istorico was played, here again the crowds were incredibly passionate thugs but you felt you were in the midst of something unique. The game itself is more brute force than brutality, not openly violent but men did whatever they could to stop the guy with the ball from getting to where he wanted to go, there werent too many moments of random violence… there were plenty in the crowd mind you, and a lot of them between the “women” i enjoyed a half of a game and headed off to listen to the cheers from the steps of the santa croce church whos piazza had been invaded by the game and its supporters. (more…)

Arezzo is Roberto Benigni land, and although he no longer lives there he has left many relatives behind. Walking the streets can be something of a head turning experience if you happen to be a fan of the man.

My favourite roberto lookalike was a guy who ran the newsstand near the station, one of the first people i saw in Arezzo and had the whole johnny stechino look going for him. I never asked him if he was related, it was just so unnecesary, but i did take to asking him stupid questions just to get a free of charge roberto benigni type response,.. he didnt have the lines … but he had those million dollar expressions down pat.

Some of the questions I asked him included

Vorrei parchare mio dischi volare qui… va bene?
I would like to park my flying saucer here… ok?

Vorrei il giornale per domani perche io preferisco pesche fresci
I would like tomorrows newspaper because i prefer fresh fish

Ho bisogno una caramello due chilogrami pesante
I need a 2 kilo lolly.

By the end of my stay he was giving it a go and would greet me with a wink and a buongiorno principessa …

Arezzo had gradually whipped itself into a frenzy over the giostra that was to take place this saturday night. I had watched the various pageants parades and also watched as they constructed the jousting surface across the centre of Arezzo’s Piazza Maggiore. (more…)

True to form after 3 days in a town the local bums and regular faces started saying hello to me, and me in my effort to be conspicuous placed myself in one of the main town squares and happily “buona sera”d passers by.

After a while a local gent came and sat on the wall near me, didnt say hello, but sat so close to me that it would have been rude of me not to make the initial effort…. “sssseeeera” i said… dying to be taken for a local. “Sei straniero?” was his reponse,.. hmm.. guess that pretend to be a local approach lasted an entire 0.0 seconds.. but he seemed to be ok with the idea of me not being frrom these parts and so i gave him my abbreviated life story. (more…)