Today was Sunday, and it was an extraordinary day for us three travellers from little ol’ Tasmania. Toronto is hosting World Pride, which is an international week-long event of festivals, concerts, parades and cultural activities promoting lesbian and gay issues. It’s only held every few years – last time was in London, next time will be in Madrid. Toronto has been planning this week for five years.
The day started at breakfast. Our hosts Jill and Walter are involved in a support group called PFLAG – Parents and Friends of Lesbians And Gays, and the group hosted a breakfast as part of Pride Week. About two hundred people came, and somehow many of them gravitated toward us, as we had clearly travelled the furthest than anyone to be there. Perhaps the most important “celebrity” to attend was the Premier of Ontario, Kathleen Wynn, who is the first female premier of Ontario and the first openly gay head of government in Canada. We were introduced to her and she asked us about our trip, our home, and our plans. It was a short but friendly conversation that could’ve been had with any local Canadian, except for the menacing security guy standing directly behind us with an earpiece and closely surveying the room with no interest at all in our chat. We also met other local politicians who asked us about gay issues in Australia – we felt like ambassadors for our country. I wished we could’ve delivered a more encouraging assessment of our government’s antiquated Marriage Equality laws.
After breakfast we walked a few blocks into the heart of the city, staked our claim at the kerbside behind the barricades, and waited for the main parade that would be the concluding event of Pride. It began at 1pm, and it was 1:45 by the time the parade reached us. Three hours later, the parade was still passing by, which was an indication of its immense scale. Apparently 12,000 people participated. What was impressive was the number of services and businesses who had a representation in the parade – a national bank, the national airline, a telecommunications company, an aged care home, hospitals, doctors and nurses, trade unions, police and prison services, postal workers, teachers and schools, and seemingly people from every country on the planet. The diversity of support for taking pride in your individuality was quite encouraging. Rainbow coloured flags were everywhere. Media reports estimated that a crowd of two million people lined the streets to watch the parade, certainly the largest crowd I have even been a part of.
At the parade’s conclusion, we went back to PFLAGs booth and helped dismantle it, after we’d helped set it up the day before. It was nice to be involved in a local volunteer group, just doing their stuff, and meeting many people from all walks of life. It was an extraordinary day.
Sunday, 29 June 2014
Friday, 27 June 2014
Toronto, Canada
An international voyage involving different continents can be tiresome, boring and monotonous. I try not to let that spoil the experience, as it is a very rare one for us. I find airports fascinating. Looking beyond the queues, security checks and Customs, airports are a melting pot of nationalities, all under the same roof for a brief instance before heading off to their respective destinations somewhere in the world.
The reunion at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport was emotional, as it had been over a year since we’d held our daughter in our arms, and seven years since we’d seen Jill and Walter. Driving towards the city showed us the stark differences from what we’d become used to after two weeks in Italy. Toronto is such a modern city that it is almost futuristic by comparison to Rome. Eight–lane expressways with apartment buildings and condos on each side, soaring 40 or 50 stories high. Skyscrapers in the distance. Stone and marble has been replaced by concrete and glass. Several Canadian icons remind us of where we are – Tim Horton’s coffee, Canada Trust bank, Pizza Pizza, Westjet, and of course the CN Tower in the distance.
We will initially stay at Jill and Walter’s home, and as we drove through their neighbourhood the streets became familiar, even after seven years. The houses are renovated post-war bungalows with a small plot of lawn and no front fence, a few steps leading to the front door, a second story above and a basement below. There is a slight homecoming feeling as we pull into their driveway.
Over coming days we get a feel for what life is like living in Toronto. We toured Dayna’s work - Corus is a national broadcaster of radio and cable television, and the multistorey glass building contains rooms and studios that could be used on the set of a Star Trek movie. We meet her workmates and are immediately made to feel welcome. We then visited her partner Adam’s job in a downtown hardware store, all within walking distance to their high-rise apartment down by the shores of Lake Ontario. Dayna’s view from the 43rd floor looking over Toronto’s retractable-roofed stadium and the CN Tower, with the busy Gardiner Freeway directly below, must be Canada’s equivalent to Australia’s Sydney Harbour skyline.
The reunion at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport was emotional, as it had been over a year since we’d held our daughter in our arms, and seven years since we’d seen Jill and Walter. Driving towards the city showed us the stark differences from what we’d become used to after two weeks in Italy. Toronto is such a modern city that it is almost futuristic by comparison to Rome. Eight–lane expressways with apartment buildings and condos on each side, soaring 40 or 50 stories high. Skyscrapers in the distance. Stone and marble has been replaced by concrete and glass. Several Canadian icons remind us of where we are – Tim Horton’s coffee, Canada Trust bank, Pizza Pizza, Westjet, and of course the CN Tower in the distance.
We will initially stay at Jill and Walter’s home, and as we drove through their neighbourhood the streets became familiar, even after seven years. The houses are renovated post-war bungalows with a small plot of lawn and no front fence, a few steps leading to the front door, a second story above and a basement below. There is a slight homecoming feeling as we pull into their driveway.
Over coming days we get a feel for what life is like living in Toronto. We toured Dayna’s work - Corus is a national broadcaster of radio and cable television, and the multistorey glass building contains rooms and studios that could be used on the set of a Star Trek movie. We meet her workmates and are immediately made to feel welcome. We then visited her partner Adam’s job in a downtown hardware store, all within walking distance to their high-rise apartment down by the shores of Lake Ontario. Dayna’s view from the 43rd floor looking over Toronto’s retractable-roofed stadium and the CN Tower, with the busy Gardiner Freeway directly below, must be Canada’s equivalent to Australia’s Sydney Harbour skyline.
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
Rome, Italy
Rome is a city brimming with highlights, places to see, sights to admire, sensations to experience. Our four days have hardly scratched the surface. But there was one that we had left until the very last day. We headed south from our hotel to the area known as Ancient Rome, an incredibly concentrated region of 2,000 year old ruins with three famous icons – the Palatine, the Forum and the Colosseum. We paid 12 Euro each for a ticket to all three, and spent a fascinating day walking the streets of the Rome of two thousand years ago. Granted, the buildings were in ruins, but it wasn’t hard to imagine life as it was back then. The Palatine is on top of a hill and was where the wealthy Romans lived, including the Emperor, looking down on the ordinary citizens going about their business below in the Forum. What structures remained were simply amazing, with columns, steps, marble facades, cobblestone streets. The most amazing was the Colosseum, not only for the ruins still intact but the stories behind the purpose of its construction. While the floor is no longer there, this enables you to see the maze of underground rooms where wild animals would be caged and brought to the arena by a complex system of winches. Our equivalent of the MCG or Docklands in Melbourne.
And so we complete four hectic days in Rome, and yet there is so much more to see. Indeed, two weeks in Italy is hardly adequate to see it all, but we’ve given it a dam good try. My impressions of this fantastic country, as we pack our bags for a 5:45am taxi to the airport tomorrow morning …
• The Italians who have charmed us along the way – the Bangla Deshi restaurateur in Venice, with his free lemoncellos; our tourguides Maria and her Dad Rafaelle in Sorrento, and not forgetting our landlady, the lady in the bulk wine shop and the family who ran our favourite Sorrento restaurant; Giovanni in our favourite Rome restaurant near the Pantheon, Daniella (a guy) at our Rome hotel who was a musician and envied us living in Australia, and many more. Italians seem constantly happy, and it’s infectious.
• Italian buildings are either old, very old, or ancient (ie, 500 years, 1000 years, or 2000 years old). No building is over 6 stories high, so there are no skyscrapers. Even if there is something built in the past 50 years, it is more than likely sitting next to a wall constructed 2,000 years ago. These city landscapes really are a blend of ancient and recent.
• The Indian/Pakistani street merchants who were selling anything under the sun, and oh so annoying in the process, but the ones selling cold water bottles were most welcome at times.
• Speaking of water, throughout all Italian cities, we found water fountains dispensing running water. However, these were running constantly, and you could fill up your water bottle with fresh drinking water. In Australia, this would be considered criminal, as water is so precious to us. To see so many taps running constantly down the drain was so strange indeed.
• Italian traffic was as we had been told – chaotic, with no rules. Pedestrians crossing the road take their lives into their own hands. Commuting is predominately by scooter, which outnumbers cars two to one, and motorbikes ten to one. Ridden by young teenagers to little old ladies and businessmen in suits.
• The Italian economy must run on tourism, as foreigners seem to outnumber locals at this time of year. How easy is it to pick the Australian accent? We were told that crowds to the Vatican have tripled since the election of the new Pope, with Papa Francesca proving to be an economic goldmine for Vatican tourism.
We bid farewell to Italy with some wonderful memories, knowing that the county’s ancient heritage is in good hands (we saw many archaeologists working at Ancient Rome), and maybe we feel a little closer to our Australian-Italian friends, now that we’ve experienced where they’ve come from.
Canada ... here we come.
And so we complete four hectic days in Rome, and yet there is so much more to see. Indeed, two weeks in Italy is hardly adequate to see it all, but we’ve given it a dam good try. My impressions of this fantastic country, as we pack our bags for a 5:45am taxi to the airport tomorrow morning …
• The Italians who have charmed us along the way – the Bangla Deshi restaurateur in Venice, with his free lemoncellos; our tourguides Maria and her Dad Rafaelle in Sorrento, and not forgetting our landlady, the lady in the bulk wine shop and the family who ran our favourite Sorrento restaurant; Giovanni in our favourite Rome restaurant near the Pantheon, Daniella (a guy) at our Rome hotel who was a musician and envied us living in Australia, and many more. Italians seem constantly happy, and it’s infectious.
• Italian buildings are either old, very old, or ancient (ie, 500 years, 1000 years, or 2000 years old). No building is over 6 stories high, so there are no skyscrapers. Even if there is something built in the past 50 years, it is more than likely sitting next to a wall constructed 2,000 years ago. These city landscapes really are a blend of ancient and recent.
• The Indian/Pakistani street merchants who were selling anything under the sun, and oh so annoying in the process, but the ones selling cold water bottles were most welcome at times.
• Speaking of water, throughout all Italian cities, we found water fountains dispensing running water. However, these were running constantly, and you could fill up your water bottle with fresh drinking water. In Australia, this would be considered criminal, as water is so precious to us. To see so many taps running constantly down the drain was so strange indeed.
• Italian traffic was as we had been told – chaotic, with no rules. Pedestrians crossing the road take their lives into their own hands. Commuting is predominately by scooter, which outnumbers cars two to one, and motorbikes ten to one. Ridden by young teenagers to little old ladies and businessmen in suits.
• The Italian economy must run on tourism, as foreigners seem to outnumber locals at this time of year. How easy is it to pick the Australian accent? We were told that crowds to the Vatican have tripled since the election of the new Pope, with Papa Francesca proving to be an economic goldmine for Vatican tourism.
We bid farewell to Italy with some wonderful memories, knowing that the county’s ancient heritage is in good hands (we saw many archaeologists working at Ancient Rome), and maybe we feel a little closer to our Australian-Italian friends, now that we’ve experienced where they’ve come from.
Canada ... here we come.
Monday, 23 June 2014
Rome, Italy
The next day we headed for the Vatican City, pre-armed with “skip-the-line” tickets to the Vatican Museum, Sistine Chapel and St Peter’s Basilica. Approaching the entrance at 9:30am, we walked past hundreds of people waiting in line, in the hot sun, and they would be waiting for many more hours. Once we’d joined our group, entered the museum, passed through security, and donned our earplugs for the commentary, we were set. As we came to the first corridor and exhibition room, we found ourselves being herded like sheep in a stock pen. Shoulder to shoulder, treading on the heels of the person in front, while our heels were being trodden on by the person behind. Every square inch of floorspace was taken up by people, and you had no choice but to shuffle along with the masses. Bad luck if you wanted to stop and admire a piece of artwork from 500 years ago, because the surging throng was relentless.
The Sistine Chapel was fantastic because of Michelangelo’s paintings on the ceilings and walls. You are drilled that you must be quiet, and not photographs. As I walked through the entrance , a guy was indignant when a guard’s hand came over the lens of his camera as he was taking a photograph. Some people just never listen. As I was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the masses, a booming voice came over a public address system saying “Silence!”, seemingly breaking the very rule that the voice was trying to enforce. The Sistine Chapel was very strange indeed.
St Peter’s Basilica was everything it was touted to be – huge, symbolic, awe-inspiring, spectacular. Being so large, it was difficult to be swallowed up in the thousands of people, but with so much detail and history in every square inch of the place, it was impossible to take it all in for the 30 minutes we were there.
Afterwards, we hopped on the tourist bus for another circuit of the city, but this time including the portion that was denied to us yesterday because of the Rolling Stones concert at Circo Massimo. As we drove past the concert site from the night before, we watched as the crews were busily dismantling the stage. A large crane was being used to hoist lighting towers to ground level, and we could see the large expanse of ground that would’ve held 65,000 people the night before. The original oval shape of the stadium was still evident, where chariot races were held as early as 4th century BC. A strange connection – Roman entertainment aligned with modern rock music 2,000 years later. I wonder if Mick Jagger ever stopped to make the connection. And I wonder who drew the larger crowd on that Sunday – Papa Franceso in St Peter’s Square or the Rolling Stones in Circo Massimo.
The Sistine Chapel was fantastic because of Michelangelo’s paintings on the ceilings and walls. You are drilled that you must be quiet, and not photographs. As I walked through the entrance , a guy was indignant when a guard’s hand came over the lens of his camera as he was taking a photograph. Some people just never listen. As I was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the masses, a booming voice came over a public address system saying “Silence!”, seemingly breaking the very rule that the voice was trying to enforce. The Sistine Chapel was very strange indeed.
St Peter’s Basilica was everything it was touted to be – huge, symbolic, awe-inspiring, spectacular. Being so large, it was difficult to be swallowed up in the thousands of people, but with so much detail and history in every square inch of the place, it was impossible to take it all in for the 30 minutes we were there.
Afterwards, we hopped on the tourist bus for another circuit of the city, but this time including the portion that was denied to us yesterday because of the Rolling Stones concert at Circo Massimo. As we drove past the concert site from the night before, we watched as the crews were busily dismantling the stage. A large crane was being used to hoist lighting towers to ground level, and we could see the large expanse of ground that would’ve held 65,000 people the night before. The original oval shape of the stadium was still evident, where chariot races were held as early as 4th century BC. A strange connection – Roman entertainment aligned with modern rock music 2,000 years later. I wonder if Mick Jagger ever stopped to make the connection. And I wonder who drew the larger crowd on that Sunday – Papa Franceso in St Peter’s Square or the Rolling Stones in Circo Massimo.
Saturday, 21 June 2014
Rome, Italy
Our day started in Sorrento, and finished in Rome. Only one hour by train (although that train was travelling at 300 kph), we arrived at Roma Termini to heat and crowds. Before catching a taxi to our hotel, I sought out a tourist hop-on, hop-off bus to get a 3-day ticket to help us get around. The guy told me that the bus may be hindered by crowds tomorrow afternoon, specifically 65,000 people would be attending a concert by the Rolling Stones in the south of the city at Circo Maximo. Allison was incredulous – if only we’d known, maybe we could’ve got tickets. Knowing the Stones, probably not.
Our hotel was in the middle of Rome, near the Pantheon and Piazza Navona, so after checking in, we wandered not far, to get a feel for the city. Our street was narrow, quiet, almost deserted. A block away, we came across a large open space, Piazza Navona, with fountains, restaurants and tourist shops, and thousands of tourists. Ah, so this is Rome, more non-Italians than locals. We soon left the Square and its bustling visitor trade, and went the block back to our hotel and had our first Roman meal at a sidewalk restaurant with hardly anyone around.
The next day we explored in earnest, courtesy of the hop-on, hop-off bus. On leaving our hotel, we turned the first corner to see a large round building at the end of the street. Walking around the front of this building made us stop and stare. Not two minutes walk from our hotel was the Pantheon, rivalling the Colosseum as Rome’s greatest building. Unlike the Colosseum, this extraordinary construction remains completely intact after 2000 years. We walked under its triangular entrance held up by 16 huge columns, each carved out of a single block of stone, and we entered a space that seemed to take us to somewhere else. As you enter, you are compelled to look up, and I watched people do the same thing we did, as they enter. Towering above us is the largest unreinforced concrete dome ever built, and at the top is a round hole 8 metres across, an opening to the elements. Directly beneath are holes in the multi-coloured marble floor to take away rainwater. Roman ingenuity from twenty centuries ago is bewildering, particularly when you are still able to step inside and marvel as if it we constructed a year ago.
The bus circuit took two hours to take us around the city, at all the major sites except for the Colosseum and Roman Forum, thanks to Mick and Keith’s rock band playing that night. We saw tens of thousands of people at the Vatican, who had just heard the Pope’s Sunday morning address. As the bus approached the Roma Termini, we noticed a flurry of activity around a five-story hotel called Le Hotel Grande. A milling crowd, a dozen very shiny and very black limousines, and official looking men in suits with lanyards around their necks. Being suspicious of what might be the cause, we got off the bus and investigated. Judging by the t-shirts being worn by the throngs, and the logo on the suit’s lanyards, our suspicions were proved correct - this was where the Rolling Stones were staying before their Rome concert that night.
Although it was highly unlikely that we would catch a glimpse of the most famous rock band in the world, we hung around for an hour, just to soak up the atmosphere. Hilariously, whenever a resident of the hotel looked out of their window, the crowd assumed the presence rock idols and started yelling and calling. Of course, each time was a false alarm, although I’m sure that I saw the haggard face of Ron Wood appear at a top floor window for one second, not enough time for me to snap a photo.
At one point I was approached by a middle-aged man dressed in a pink shirt and trendy shorts. “You want a ticket for the concert tonight?” he asked me. Taken aback and gathering my thoughts, I enquired further. The spare ticket was his wife’s, who had decided to go to Madrid instead. He was asking 150 Euros, pledged that he was legitimate, and showed me a voucher from his hotel with the concert details. Allison and I discussed, and decided to turn it down. The guy did not have an actual ticket, and we’d have to get to the venue, and back again after the concert. The clincher was that Allison will see The Stones in Melbourne in November. We left after an hour outside the hotel, and the guy was still trying to hawk his ticket.
Our hotel was in the middle of Rome, near the Pantheon and Piazza Navona, so after checking in, we wandered not far, to get a feel for the city. Our street was narrow, quiet, almost deserted. A block away, we came across a large open space, Piazza Navona, with fountains, restaurants and tourist shops, and thousands of tourists. Ah, so this is Rome, more non-Italians than locals. We soon left the Square and its bustling visitor trade, and went the block back to our hotel and had our first Roman meal at a sidewalk restaurant with hardly anyone around.
The next day we explored in earnest, courtesy of the hop-on, hop-off bus. On leaving our hotel, we turned the first corner to see a large round building at the end of the street. Walking around the front of this building made us stop and stare. Not two minutes walk from our hotel was the Pantheon, rivalling the Colosseum as Rome’s greatest building. Unlike the Colosseum, this extraordinary construction remains completely intact after 2000 years. We walked under its triangular entrance held up by 16 huge columns, each carved out of a single block of stone, and we entered a space that seemed to take us to somewhere else. As you enter, you are compelled to look up, and I watched people do the same thing we did, as they enter. Towering above us is the largest unreinforced concrete dome ever built, and at the top is a round hole 8 metres across, an opening to the elements. Directly beneath are holes in the multi-coloured marble floor to take away rainwater. Roman ingenuity from twenty centuries ago is bewildering, particularly when you are still able to step inside and marvel as if it we constructed a year ago.
The bus circuit took two hours to take us around the city, at all the major sites except for the Colosseum and Roman Forum, thanks to Mick and Keith’s rock band playing that night. We saw tens of thousands of people at the Vatican, who had just heard the Pope’s Sunday morning address. As the bus approached the Roma Termini, we noticed a flurry of activity around a five-story hotel called Le Hotel Grande. A milling crowd, a dozen very shiny and very black limousines, and official looking men in suits with lanyards around their necks. Being suspicious of what might be the cause, we got off the bus and investigated. Judging by the t-shirts being worn by the throngs, and the logo on the suit’s lanyards, our suspicions were proved correct - this was where the Rolling Stones were staying before their Rome concert that night.
Although it was highly unlikely that we would catch a glimpse of the most famous rock band in the world, we hung around for an hour, just to soak up the atmosphere. Hilariously, whenever a resident of the hotel looked out of their window, the crowd assumed the presence rock idols and started yelling and calling. Of course, each time was a false alarm, although I’m sure that I saw the haggard face of Ron Wood appear at a top floor window for one second, not enough time for me to snap a photo.
At one point I was approached by a middle-aged man dressed in a pink shirt and trendy shorts. “You want a ticket for the concert tonight?” he asked me. Taken aback and gathering my thoughts, I enquired further. The spare ticket was his wife’s, who had decided to go to Madrid instead. He was asking 150 Euros, pledged that he was legitimate, and showed me a voucher from his hotel with the concert details. Allison and I discussed, and decided to turn it down. The guy did not have an actual ticket, and we’d have to get to the venue, and back again after the concert. The clincher was that Allison will see The Stones in Melbourne in November. We left after an hour outside the hotel, and the guy was still trying to hawk his ticket.
Friday, 20 June 2014
Sorrento, Italy
Exploring Sorrento was most pleasurable indeed. Nowhere near the rat-race of Florence, this town has the vibe of being a tourist destination, going by the number of people on the streets, all speaking a myriad of different languages. It seems that tourists outnumber locals two to one, but the atmosphere is one of fun, relaxation, and sunshine. Being right on the coast, as well as high atop a cliff, Sorrento’s location provides an unforgettable view over the Bay of Naples. From the edge of that cliff, just a block away from the town center, we could look down over people swimming in the bay, or lounging on deckchairs, or heading out in boats of every size, shape and colour. On both sides along the coast are hotels built into the side of the cliff, with every vantage point being exploited for the view.
Following further advice from Giovanna, our landlady, we hired another local tour guide for a day on the Isle of Capri. What good advice it was, for we explored Capri much more thoroughly in six hours than we could have ever done on our own. Our guide was a delightful young lady called Maria, and we soon learned that she was the daughter of Rafaelle, our guide for Pompeii. The day started with the 25 minute ferry ride from Sorrento to Marina Grande on Capri, followed by a two-hour circumnavigation of the island by boat. The only disappointment was that the Blue Grotto was closed, and seeing the entrance from our boat convinced us that it was the right call. The tide and rough surf made the entrance to this cave vary from a metre above to a metre below the surface every few seconds. There was no way a small boat could enter this subterranean cave, so we would have to miss out on its apparently brilliant blue light show.
The views for rest of the boat trip were stunning. Sheer white limestone cliffs rising out of a sea coloured incredibly blue, with dwellings perched high atop, greeted us at every turn of the coast. The guide pointed out homes or hotels where famous people live or used to live – Sophia Loren, Georgio Armani, Mussolini, Jackie Kennedy Onassis. After the boat was a taxi ride from the harbour to Anacapri, taking us up the steep side of a mountain through narrow streets and hairpin bends. The higher we went, the more spectacular the view out over Marina Grande and the Bay of Naples. I think the word is breathtaking. From Anacapri, we took a chairlift to the very top of the island, with a 360 degree panorama of the Sorrento peninsula, Naples and Mt Vesuvius, and the islands of the Bay of Naples. Being afraid of heights, Allison opted to explore Anacapri and rely on our photos. Another taxi ride to the township of Capri, where we explored shops, hotels and restaurants so outlandishly expensive that it made us feel completely out of our depth. Do people really pay these prices? Maria showed us Augustus’ Gardens, supposedly set up by the Roman Emperor to use the amazing views from the cliff tops, which still exist today.
Throughout our entire time in Sorrento, I have the feeling that I’m being watched, for almost every view in the area has a common element. Like some deity looking over its subjects, an omnipresent mountain towers over the Bay of Naples like a menacing omen. Mt Vesuvius can only be described as imposing, as it rises out of the scenery like a dark cloud on the horizon, and it seems to appear in every photo I take. Its menace arises from the fact that it is hundreds of years overdue for a major eruption, and the view from Sorrento shows a mass of civilisation living at its feet. If it ever does decide to mimic 79AD, it would be catastrophic for the people of Naples and Sorrento Peninsula. I can only assume that to live here means that you cannot worry about it, otherwise your life would be in eternal anxiety.
Following further advice from Giovanna, our landlady, we hired another local tour guide for a day on the Isle of Capri. What good advice it was, for we explored Capri much more thoroughly in six hours than we could have ever done on our own. Our guide was a delightful young lady called Maria, and we soon learned that she was the daughter of Rafaelle, our guide for Pompeii. The day started with the 25 minute ferry ride from Sorrento to Marina Grande on Capri, followed by a two-hour circumnavigation of the island by boat. The only disappointment was that the Blue Grotto was closed, and seeing the entrance from our boat convinced us that it was the right call. The tide and rough surf made the entrance to this cave vary from a metre above to a metre below the surface every few seconds. There was no way a small boat could enter this subterranean cave, so we would have to miss out on its apparently brilliant blue light show.
The views for rest of the boat trip were stunning. Sheer white limestone cliffs rising out of a sea coloured incredibly blue, with dwellings perched high atop, greeted us at every turn of the coast. The guide pointed out homes or hotels where famous people live or used to live – Sophia Loren, Georgio Armani, Mussolini, Jackie Kennedy Onassis. After the boat was a taxi ride from the harbour to Anacapri, taking us up the steep side of a mountain through narrow streets and hairpin bends. The higher we went, the more spectacular the view out over Marina Grande and the Bay of Naples. I think the word is breathtaking. From Anacapri, we took a chairlift to the very top of the island, with a 360 degree panorama of the Sorrento peninsula, Naples and Mt Vesuvius, and the islands of the Bay of Naples. Being afraid of heights, Allison opted to explore Anacapri and rely on our photos. Another taxi ride to the township of Capri, where we explored shops, hotels and restaurants so outlandishly expensive that it made us feel completely out of our depth. Do people really pay these prices? Maria showed us Augustus’ Gardens, supposedly set up by the Roman Emperor to use the amazing views from the cliff tops, which still exist today.
Throughout our entire time in Sorrento, I have the feeling that I’m being watched, for almost every view in the area has a common element. Like some deity looking over its subjects, an omnipresent mountain towers over the Bay of Naples like a menacing omen. Mt Vesuvius can only be described as imposing, as it rises out of the scenery like a dark cloud on the horizon, and it seems to appear in every photo I take. Its menace arises from the fact that it is hundreds of years overdue for a major eruption, and the view from Sorrento shows a mass of civilisation living at its feet. If it ever does decide to mimic 79AD, it would be catastrophic for the people of Naples and Sorrento Peninsula. I can only assume that to live here means that you cannot worry about it, otherwise your life would be in eternal anxiety.
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
Sorrento, Italy
The next day we entered our own Time Machine, and crossed off one of the reasons we had come to Sorrento in the first place – Pompeii. With advice from our helpful landlady, we hired our own personal guide called Rafaelle, and headed to the archaeological site early to beat the crowds. When we walked through the entrance gate at 9am, dark black clouds were hanging overhead, the smell of rain was in the air and it seemed as if we had the entire site to ourselves. We could see why an early start was so important.
Not long into the tour, it started to rain, and Rafaelle ducked us into someone’s house. Of course they weren’t home, as they had vacated their home on the morning of 24th August in 79AD, when the nearby volcano erupted and destroyed their city by burying it under 6 metres of ash. The weight of that settling ash caused every roof in the city to collapse, but fortunately this house had recently had its roof restored, providing us with shelter for the storm. The timing of the lightning and thunder were almost instantaneous, so the storm must have been directly overhead. The lightning show was spectacular, the thunder deafening. It was a surreal moment, stuck in someone’s home from two thousand years ago, watching nature’s most spectacular show of force.
We walked through the remains of homes, shops, baths, council chambers, even a brothel, with paintings of what services they had to offer. By midday our tour guide had completed his contract, and he left us to continue exploring this fascinating place on our own. Unfortunately by this time the crowds were here in force, seemingly the same ten thousand people who we had encountered at Florence’s David, and Pisa’s Tower. I think I recognised every one of them – Allison says they must be following us.
I still had to visit one last Pompeii attraction to satisfy the aging hippie in me. The amphitheatre in Pompeii is a large oval-shaped arena, completely empty and surrounded by stone seating . Back in October 1971, this was the venue for a unique rock concert, when Pink Floyd played live for no-one other than a bunch of sound and camera men . The concert was filmed and released as “Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii”, and it became quite legendary as a snapshot of the famous band before “Dark Side of the Moon” was released in 1973. I felt a connection with history from 40 years ago and 2000 years ago.
Not long into the tour, it started to rain, and Rafaelle ducked us into someone’s house. Of course they weren’t home, as they had vacated their home on the morning of 24th August in 79AD, when the nearby volcano erupted and destroyed their city by burying it under 6 metres of ash. The weight of that settling ash caused every roof in the city to collapse, but fortunately this house had recently had its roof restored, providing us with shelter for the storm. The timing of the lightning and thunder were almost instantaneous, so the storm must have been directly overhead. The lightning show was spectacular, the thunder deafening. It was a surreal moment, stuck in someone’s home from two thousand years ago, watching nature’s most spectacular show of force.
We walked through the remains of homes, shops, baths, council chambers, even a brothel, with paintings of what services they had to offer. By midday our tour guide had completed his contract, and he left us to continue exploring this fascinating place on our own. Unfortunately by this time the crowds were here in force, seemingly the same ten thousand people who we had encountered at Florence’s David, and Pisa’s Tower. I think I recognised every one of them – Allison says they must be following us.
I still had to visit one last Pompeii attraction to satisfy the aging hippie in me. The amphitheatre in Pompeii is a large oval-shaped arena, completely empty and surrounded by stone seating . Back in October 1971, this was the venue for a unique rock concert, when Pink Floyd played live for no-one other than a bunch of sound and camera men . The concert was filmed and released as “Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii”, and it became quite legendary as a snapshot of the famous band before “Dark Side of the Moon” was released in 1973. I felt a connection with history from 40 years ago and 2000 years ago.
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