The Italian Railway Experience

What you need to know about Italian trains:

1. Buying a ticket and just having it is not good enough. Once you buy your ticket, look for a small box that says something like ticket validation. Insert your ticket and once inserted, move it to the left. You might get away with not doing this, but if they catch you, expect to fork out 52 Euros.

2. How to find out where you are going and which stations does the train stop at? At every station you will find a large (but not large enough!) sheet of paper. On it, it lists under hourly headings when trains leave, and if you look carefully it will list all the stops, with their times. I wondered what about Sundays? The catch is the asterisk, and you need to learn the word for Sunday, Saturday, and Public Holiday.  A listing of the months in Italian is also needed.

 3. There is sometimes a small electronic screen showing train times as well. Sometimes this will be at odds with the paper copy. We found the electronic on was more up to date.

4. Another puzzle is the strange case of up to 4 trains leaving at the same time. They are handled by the asterisk as mentioned in 2 above.

5. Watch out for multiple destinations of the city of your choice. It easy to get off out in the suburbs.

6. If travelling on a train that has first and second class, and you are booked on carriage no 2, do NOT get on the carriage that has a big 2 on the side. It means second class. Usually, 1st class is at the end of the train, with a tiny notice near the door saying which carriage it is.

7. Watch out for terribly helpful persons that appear to have official looking shirts on wanting to grab your suitcases out of your hands and lift them on board for you. They expect 5 Euros. Make it a point to say NO thanks!

Hong Kong subway trips

Bead shopping in Hong Kong.  I was not looking forward to this, but it turned out a bit of a touristy type of exercise.  First find out where to go via the Internet.  It appears to be an area about 6 km north of our hotel, conveniently close to the subway line.  We bought two Octopus cards, similar to 

London's Oyster Card. The subway is clean, fast, and very efficient.  

As usual, all the streets look the same: shops forever with six story apartment buildings above.  A small amount of beads, and lunch was required.  Ever tried to place an order with a counter lady (who wore an air hostess type hat), who does not understand English? Rose did not want to eat, but we ended up with two meals anyway. Once the order was placed, we sat down to wait for our meal to arrive.  The people at our table were amused by this and pointed to the other end of the restaurant, where there was a counter, at which you queued up with your ticket.  Talk about fast food, it was a bit like Macdonalds.

Home for a well earned rest, the out again to look at Hong Kong across the water from the waterfront.  

Before coming to Kowloon I was not looking forward to crowds of people all pushing and shoving and being generally rude to each other. I was surprised and pleased to find none of this, given there are lots of people here, that almost without exception, people are relaxed and behave very well.  If you ask for directions, they usually have a language problem, but are friendly anyway.  We felt safe on the streets, even at night.

The will be my last post,  except for a piece on the Italian Railway System.

We return to New Zealand next Monday.

From Italy to Germany to Hong Kong

Riomaggiore. We were going to give this a miss, but decided to make the effort.

An unusual village, split into a sea part and a rural part. No beach, but people were swimming in the harbour. Needless to say, we got there by train, which took only about 15 minutes.  A lot of gelato consumption, and a strange snack: a thing like an ice cream cone, but made of cardboard, and filled with deep fried seafood. Tasty.

The previous day while swimming, I got stung by a jelly fish, which knocked the chrome off the snorkelling.  The next day, I was careful to look where I was going, spotted him, so no stings.

A lot of angst was generated by the rail timetable for the day of our leaving, but it all turned out ok, going from Monterosso to Genova, changing to the Milan one at Genova.  We were going to get a taxi to Milan Airport, but Rose spotted a shuttle bus just outside the station, 5 Euros to the airport-unbelievable value!

Much long waiting around and we got on board our plane to Frankfurt.

No horsing around this end, we got a taxi to the Dormero Hotel, just near the city centre. This is a picture of Frankfurt.

A brilliant hotel: 2 large screens, one for Internet, the other for TV, and a choice of free movies. We had a day to have a look at the city, as our flight did not leave till 10pm.

We walked towards the city centre, and came across a brand new shopping mall, Skyline Plaza.  Spotless, and very tastefully done.  Back out onto the main road again and eventually reached the heart of the city.  It felt a bit like La Rambla in Barcelona. Nice enough, but not spectacular.

Leg power failing, we decided to get out to the airport early, and proceeded to wait forever for boarding.
 This is a picture of Hong Kong, from our hotel in Kowloon.

The usual not fun trip sitting for 10 hours,  now we are sitting up 19 floors in the Panorama Hotel, looking towards Hong Kong, a bit zapped as we have been virtually up all night.  It is now 5.15pm and it feels like we had breakfast about 5 hours ago.  Everything here seems to cost mega bucks. A buffet dinner downstairs is HK 400=NZ 60/ person.

Monterosso Al Mare

Link to pics on Flikr.  Blue Mediterranean Sea. Not very clear, but around 3m visibility. We are now in Monterosso Al Mare.

 A bit of a train jumping job to get here. From Venice to Firenze, very fast, in first class. Then onto an ordinary train to La Spezia. A short half hour wait, and another to Monterosso.

Straight out of the station entrance, and a walk of one kilometre to the Hotel La Palme, along a very nice promenade above the beach.

Very happy with this hotel, it is two minutes walk to a really nice beach. First task was to buy a mask and snorkel. Done. Then out to say hi to the fish, of which there were some, not a lot. Dinner: pizza,hmm.

First full day, I was up fairly early and had an early morning swim to check out my fish.

Monterosso is divided into two parts by headland with a tunnel through it, so that part of the town, which seems much older was paid a visit. The part in the photo above is called Figina, but seems lumped in with Monterosso. This is a picture of the main part of Monterosso:

A bit like Venice, minus canals.

Lunch was good, I had fried fish and spuds, Rose had a salad.

Today, the usual swim then an attempt to walk the one mile around the cliffs to the next village, which is Vernazza.
This is the harbour at Vernazza...unreal!

 We got about a quarter of the way, after climbing a thousand stairs, when a queue formed  in the baking sun. So we flagged the path at idea away, and walked all the way back and caught a train instead.  

Vernazza is much smaller and did not take long to check out, so we had a nice lunch looking out to sea on a perfect day. We are now waiting for the train back.
Here is another picture of Figina:

This is a misty day looking south, from Montorosso Al Mare towards Riomaggiore:

 

Mestre and Venice

Commuting to Venice from Mestre can be ok, but not  if the bus is full, thanks.

I should have looked up on the net for the ten must do's for Venice, or tips for seeing Venice. I have since and now realise the error of my ways, but to be fair, we were in a position where planning was not easy.  One of the tips was to stay in Venice.  I would agree with this, but having stayed in Mestre was an experience we both enjoyed, because this is a real, working Italian city, albeit a small one.

Our hotel was right on the edge of a main square, and in the evenings we went out and everyone else was too.  It seemed to have a good atmosphere, with old and young all cruising around, some looking at the shops, others just standing about, or promenading.
This is the main piazza in Mestre:

Getting the right bus was eventually mastered, along with the ticket system. You buy a ticket at the hotel desk, which seems made of card, but maybe not, as you can refill them.  It has a barcode on it, which you swipe as you get on the bus.

Annoying in some ways, as you cannot tell how many rides you have left.

We are about to get a taxi (ouch!) to Venice now, then a vaporetto, or water bus. I had thought these were expensive at 25 Euros a pop, but that is for a day ticket. It costs just 7 Euros to go one way, which is almost the only way to get suitcases to our hotel, way up the right hand end of Venice.
Venice:

 

One of the top tips was to get lost in Venice, which we managed easily on the first day in.  Yesterday, we managed to it again, but not quite so badly. The previous day we did not get lost, but made it our mission to get to San Marco square, and then locate the hotel, which we did but it was almost too much, and we got back to the bus stop with rubber legs.  According to Mapometer, it was 8 km. Anywhere near the Rialto bridge or the square was clogged with tourists,  not much fun.  Get away from there and it seems deserted.

The best experience is to come out of a narrow alley and see a calm canal with those  water ripples reflecting the colours of the buildings.

More walking around Asolo

Sounds boring, and probably is to read about it. 

But then, the idea of this blog is for us to have a record to look back on,  and I am not looking for a job as a travel writer.

We walked down one of the main roads to a small settlement called Pagnano, about 2 km down the hill.  Beautiful walk down through a wealthy area, trees, vineyards, olive trees, nice houses.

The little settlement was not as affluent feeling, but still Ok.  On the corner was an old water mill, which we found out later was used for metal working.

Looking up property on the net, it appears it is for sale at around $250,000 NZ. At a small cafe we had a coffee.  I asked for a Latte, as this usually results in something like a NZ flat white. No, a tiny cup arrived with a teaspoon of milk.  I give up: you just cannot get NZ coffee in Italy. The hotel comes close, supplying blow your head off coffee in a jug every morning.  After 2 cups of this you wonder why you feel dehydrated all morning.

The next day a walk was chosen by me which almost resulted in mutiny by the crew.  Well it is not my fault if someone has a kilometre long driveway to their house, all up hill, gravel under foot and lots of flies, saying, yes, Asolo this way!

Turns out the sign was talking about a road five metres further on.

It did start out nice though, the usual country lane with nice views.

For the record, it started out as Via San Martino, end ended up as Via Forello.

On arrival in the piazza, it was found necessary to have large ice cream sundaes and a cheese sandwich.  Yes, naughty, but that is all they sell!
Here is the view from the cafe of he piazza:

Man are they busy, like one armed Italian ice cream sellers.  Another year of this and those two brothers can retire to the Bahamas.

Today is sad mad day,  as we are leaving Asolo, and this is being written in a railway station waiting room in Castelfranco,  Veneto.  We hope to get on board a train back to Mestre, where we have three nights at Al Vivito Hotel in Mestre, which is a fifteen minute bus ride to Venice. 

We did have a trip in to Venice about seven days ago, just for one day. Nobody told us just how big, and confusing it all is.  Pretty, but you have to trudge for miles, consuming coca cola and bits of pizza along the way.  Our plan was to get to the main square.  We  did not even get close!  Of course you can buy a water bus ticket, but at 25 Euros each, not something you would do every day.

Funny thing about Italy: nobody speaks any English, yet whenever you hear a radio, it is playing a song with English words.

Another funny thing: when us cheapskates go looking for a Laundromat, it seems the locals just do not comprehend Italian. The word for laundromat is lavenderia,  so if you say "dove la lavenderia?",  you get a blank look.

After saying it several times the penny drops, and they go "Oh, la lavendeeeeeriiiiiiaaaaa!"  Guess it pays not to say it in a monotone Kiwi accent.

Walking around Asolo

This is the view from the hotel window.

 
Rose was keen for a haircut at 11am , so I (silly me!) assumed I had half an hour to kill.  It turned out to be one and a half hours. I found the castle on the hill path and puffed my way up to Rocca. Spectacular but shut, even though it says it should be open.  Back down to the Piazza Garibaldi, and a very nice outdoor type of cafe to sit and wait. It were a while. A cheese sandwich for lunch.  

Puzzling thing about Asolo, it is almost like they want you to find your own way around, as our only map was given to us by accident, and it is in Italian.

Later that afternoon I took Rose up the mountain to Rocca, she found it a bit of a climb.  Some strange Italian woman persuaded us to go back to town a different way.  I say strange because she could not speak English! 

Today we sauntered down a country lane and back, which took most of the morning.  Lunch was an ice cream sundae and a cheese sandwich.  Our diet needs overhauling.

Asolo

Hotel Villa Cipriani. This is located in the small Italian town of Asolo.

Getting there was less of a problem than I thought it would be.  Just the usual puzzles with the Italian Railway system.  From previous experience we knew you have to validate your tickets, as there are no conductors to punch them. You just stick them in little boxes in the train station, taking care to put them in and move them to the left, a point not that obvious to non-Italians.

The plan was to go from Mestre to a small town called Castelfranco, then get a taxi from there. The ticket office lady initially never seemed to have heard of Castelfranco, but after about three repeats, she gave me tickets, cheap at 3.50 Euros each. Anxious watching of stations later, we got off and staggered up an down the usual stairs with heavy suitcases.

We were concerned that the taxi drive would be long and expensive, like 100 Euros.  It turned out to be 50, so that was pleasing.

Throwing economic caution to the winds, we had lunch at the hotel. A delight it was too, with views over the country hills.

 This pic is of a road South of Asolo, where we headed in the wrong direction.

The next day was dedicated to a Lavenda or Laundromat expedition to a place about 3km away. A beautiful walk down a wooded hill road, disturbed only by the odd car and lots of cyclists, who all looked retired. 

Unfortunately I did not study the map too closely, and paid the price of over shooting the town and walking 2extra ks  in the hot sun. Eventually corrected by a friendly person who gave us a lift. We got the mini bus back thank god. See the pic above!

Ever tried to use a laundromat in a foreign language? A bit of a puzzle, but we got there in the end.  Day off tomorrow.

Off the ship

This is the Al Vivito Hotel in Mestre (hidden behind the umbrella).

 

Al Vivito Hotel.  That is where we are now.  We were not allowed on the ship because I had a cold.  A bit of a worry this, because I have had a cold for about the last three weeks, the perfect accompaniment for a holiday. Driving poor Rose nuts with a continual dry cough.  Must  be the Moroccan air. Maybe.

This hotel is in Mestre, which is a small town near Venice. 

A miracle happened in Barcelona, they found our missing bag!

So, as someone said, how did we find the Sagrada Familia?  Turned left at Barcelona that's how. By the time the bag fun was done, we had about two hours to see Barcelona, so got a taxi to see Gaudi's masterpiece.

Sorry, but I seem to be an architectural grinch.  Sure it was large, and it had towers, just like in the photos, but I felt strangely unimpressed.  Maybe if it was painted, because right now the yuck brown finish does nothing for it.

There was a queue to get inside, so flagged that one away.

We walked back to the hotel, via La Rambla, quite nice.

The hotel advises us not to carry cameras or handbags, as there is a 100percent chance you will get robbed exiting the hotel. I hope NZ never gets this bad. Ripped off by the taxi going to the airport, and my impression of Spain is "don't want to come back here!"  Maybe it is my imagination but they seem to have an attitude problem. Maybe they just don't like foreigners.

What's next?  Six days in Asolo, an old village not far from here. Then back to Venice to this hotel for another two nights so we can see Venice.

We are now sitting drinking coffee in the square in Mestre, and it is most relaxing.  The Italians seem to have a better attitude and things here seem very relaxed and civilised. Apart from the odd beggar.

What a silly thing to do......

Marrakech to Casablanca was a pretty flat trip, and not spectacular compared to previous legs of the trip. I'm afraid I complained about Casablanca on a previous post, so I have to backtrack and say that coming in from a different direction poses a different picture. Or is it just the rich part of town, by the seaside?  Anyway, they have a very nice beach frontage, and we could not resist going to Macdonalds for lunch.  Delicious.

This is outside one of the largest mosques in the world, in Casablanca.

Our flight back was at 12.10 pm so we  thought the best option was to take the 6.15 am shuttle to the airport as the guide said it would be crowded. 

Much long winded waiting later, we finally arrived at the check out counter, just then a two men seemed to arrive from the queue to the left, and he said would it be ok if he got in front of us. As we were not in a hurry, and he somehow gave the impression that he had been in the wrong queue and needed to go urgently, we said ok, go ahead.  I thought queuing was a peculiarly English thing. 

Turns out the Moroccan French have strict expectations on this.

The woman with a husband and baby behind us went insane at this, with a lot of shouting and screaming.  The security guy right there, just looked on and did nothing. In the end the guy was not processed, and I went forward to the desk.

There was a commotion behind me, but I concentrated on checking our bags in. Rose told me that the woman chased after the queue jumper and gave him a good slap on the face. A fisticuffs ensued, only stopped by the security guards. The rest of the queue seemed to be on the woman's side big time.

Rose reckoned it made her day.  If only she knew what was to come.

For some reason, God saw fit to let us land safely in Barcelona, but then decided we needed to lose a bag.  In my obviously faulty wisdom I had chosen to keep the boat and train tickets in that bag.  Not a good plan as it turned out, because it had the hotel voucher for Barcelona in there too.

Step one, go to lost luggage department. Boarding passes, etc given over, ok, what hotel are you staying at?  Don't know, it is in the lost bag. The upshot is we got a piece of paper to say we were coming back at 1 pm the following day and were able to get out of the arrivals area, to decide our next move.  Having a bit more time now, I got onto a computer in the business centre, and booked us in for a night at the Tryp Airport Hotel.  I thought that should be a cheap taxi, and the meter read about 7euros, then he says all trips from the airport minimum 20 euros. Hmff. This hotel is a minimalist delight, very clean.

As a person now needing clean laundry each night, I was delighted to find that hotels provide a nice little sink next to the toilet, for doing your laundry in. Only thing is that could have been mounted a little higher. For drying, they have one mounted on the wall for drying things, although they usually do not have a lot of horsepower.

With a bit of luck we might be able to see the Sagrada Familia after all.

Marrakech Day 2

Not a big day, just a quick tour of the city, and a visit to the souk, a local market.  A crowded and vaguely interesting place. Rose bought a hat, and some bits of bling. Some snake charmers who drove me to give them a wide berth due to their loud pipe music. Lunch at an Italian restaurant, a visit to a silver shop then back home to the hotel, for a rest.

Farewell dinner at the hotel. We travel on back to Casablanca on the 6th, not a place I am looking forward to seeing again, then fly out early on the 7th to Barcelona.

Ouarzazate to Marrakech

Leaving Ouarzazate, we wound our way up into the high Atlas Mountains. Wonderful if you do not suffer from car sickness-or bus sickness, which it seems I do.

After grabbing incoming wasps against the window with tissue paper, it was necessary to put the squashed wasps in the bin at the back of the bus. Which for some reason made me feel even more queasy, so I did not really appreciate the wonderful mountain scenery.  

At one point we were 6500 ft above sea level,  with spectacular views of barren mountains.

A shortish trip luckily, and we are now ensconced at the beautiful Le Meridien N'tfis  Marrakech Hotel.

The gardens are beautiful, with fountains in the 30-35 degree heat.

We chose not to do the optional tours, so it is nice just to relax and do nothing for a change. 

In a previous post, I was reminded by someone that it is St Pancras, not St Pancreas.  Probably my hypochondriac side kicking in.

Also it is K'sar, not K'sir.

Erfoud to Ouarzazate

A rough day this one.  Rose still loves the scenery, but these little Moroccan villages we drive through all seem pretty much alike to me.  The landscape is even more barren and  mars like.  A long day travelling, up early and on the way by 8.30am, arriving at Ouarzazate at 6.30pm. 

Along the way our first stop was at a Ksir, a walled community of houses, a bit like the Medina, but with a lot less people.  This is a dying community as all the young ones

are moving to the cities. Each family has a plot of land nearby, where they grow palm trees for dates and other crops as well.

Next, we turned off the main road and went up a long and winding road to a place called the gorges.  Very scenic with a shallow river running through it, with big rocky cliffs high in either side.  Lots of families paddling in the river.

We are sitting near the front of the bus today , so we get a good view of the road we are travelling down. A few frights along the way as the bus is wide and the road is narrow. 

Our hotel is magnificent, The Berbere Palace. I would love to stay here 2 days,  but this us not to be.

Fes to Erfoud

The Berber village turned out to be on a hillside, and there did not seem to be any cave like houses.  We were on a visit to a family that had a cave, but an ordinary house on top as well. Our host was called Muhammad, and took us into the cave part, and gave us all a cup of mint tea.  This is very tasty stuff.

He explained how many generations of his family had lived in the cave part, but this probably will not continue.  The usual kids running around on the way out,the girls ok, boys being boys.

This is Muhammad

This is Ifrane

The next day, off to Erfoud.  Leaving Fes, we climbed over the low Atlas Mountains to a small town called Ifrane, which is a French ski town. As it is summer there is no snow, so pretty quiet.

This next photo was I believe one of the best I have ever taken.  Not through any artistic prowess on my part though.  I happened to be just standing up in the bus and snapped off what ever I saw.
To my amazement a wonderfully composed picture was captured: Here it is, some small town in Morocco:

  Then came the amazing scenery. A bit like the desert road or the desert in Arizona. Then over the high Atlas Mountains. Now we are in the Kasbah Hotel in Erfoud.  So far this tour has exceeded my expectations, the highlights are so far being the trip  into the medina in Fes, and going over the high Atlas Mountains.

To Fez

Going away from Casablanca

Rabat. Driving out of Casablanca: dry, industrial and goes for miles. There are 30 million people in Morocco,  quite a few live here. The air is hazy here, probably due to their oil refinery and oil fired power station.

A truly awful place.  Rabat, a different story.  Well, the king lives there for a start.  A much nicer and more interesting city of 800,000.

Rabat

A look at one of the king's mausoleums. Took ten years to build. Marvellous workmanship. Four soldiers on guard, plus two more at the entrance on horses, stood still in the hot sun. These guys are tough.

The Mausoleum

Onwards to Fez, and yet another opulent hotel.  The Royal Mirage Hotel.

http://www.royalmiragehotels.com/fes/fr/index.php.

Beautiful swimming pool.  After a swim, out on to the street in search of a cheap meal. Two pizzas for about ten dollars.  

We will be here two nights, and tomorrow we visit a Berber village, where they live in caves.

This note is written  a year later: I realise I have left out the bit where we did a tour through the old town, some 2000 years old(?).  This was total culture shock for me, but a memory that will remain with me always.  This was clearly the best experience of the trip.  Our guide led us into the old town through very small and winding passages.  High walls every where, donkeys, stalls, people going about there lives in here.  The area where they do the fabric dying.  Just wonderful!

Madrid

Feels a little bit like Paris.  The main roads are wide, sometimes with trees, and lots of good buildings, both old and new.  Throw in the odd giant fountain or sculpture and it passes the test of being a beautiful city. Pity you have lots of people on the sidewalks to cope with.  My pedometer says we did 20,000 steps today, so we have covered some of the main area.  

We did a city bus tour, which covered the bits we missed.

Off to Casablanca tomorrow morning early.

It would be nice to put in about 5 photos of Madrid so a feel for the place could be had...here is my best selection:

Frankfurt-Madrid

Today was taken up with travel, mainly to the Frankfort airport, Getting there far too early, and having to sit around Frankfurt airport for hours.

I overheard an elderly couple, who sounded like New Zealanders.  Getting in the bus to the plane, the elderly lady sat down next to me, so I asked if they were from NZ. No, Australians, but they go to NZ regularly, to visit a relative in Pukerua Bay.  Hmmm....guess where my daughter lives?  Just what are the chances of this happening?

Lufthansa gave us a meal on the flight, which helped pass the time.

From the air, the land looked very dry.  

Because the shuttle taxi called in at several places, it gave us a good look at the city.  Our initial impression was it is a big place, a bit dusty, and hot.

We were not sure how our hotel would be, and we were  pleasantly surprised to find a spacious room with a posh bathroom.

Out for a walk, and coffee first. Three euros for two cups.  Nobody here speaks English....what is wrong with these people? Oops, it is raining, back inside for dinner, eggs, chips, and sausage x two plus a glass of wine for 14 euros.  Feeling heavy, a walk around the block is called for.  A tour of the Plaza de Epana and a look at a statue of Don Quixote, nice.