Italy Day 9 - Sorrento, Capri, and the Endless Queasiness

So, last night was pretty bad.
I spent most of the night feverish and very, very sick. I tried moaning and groaning extra loud to get some sympathy, but Kerri slept right through it. As a result, she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning as we headed off to breakfast.
Kerri had a few tiny, strong cups of coffee and some fruit.
Alex got his daily week's worth of carbs in one meal and Tori had some fruit and some unidentifiable goo.
I stared blearily into the middle distance and tried desperately not to pass out.
Alex helpfully waved some sort of drippy meat-like thing under my nose.
"Mmmmm. Greasy. Want some?"
He has to realize that those sorts of things are only funny when I do them.
I made it through breakfast without any sort of spectacular gastrointestinal event and we piled onto a small bus that was to take us to a ferry so I could test my internal fortitude with a high speed boat ride over choppy water.
At the boat dock, we had a few moments to take in the breathtaking scenery of Sorrento.

The Japanese lady posing for her own album cover or something.

Buildings built right into the sheer cliffs.

An excellent view of Mt. Vesuvius.

The buildings seem to grow right out of the rock.

Okay, stomach. Here we go.

I did appreciate this dire warning. "Please don't drive your car off the pier and into the ocean."

We made it to Capri without any sort of projectile incidents and then we were free to explore the splendor of this lovely island. And by free, I mean very, very expensive.

Capri seems to be an island composed almost exclusively of: limestone; high end shopping establishments; and tourists.
Our first order of business, since I had survived the boat ride, was to get on another boat. This is one of the optional tours that you can purchase while you are on tour. Your tour guide will assure you that each one of these is the one thing you don't want to miss. Victoria was actually very eager to do this one so we happily climbed aboard a small boat for a guided tour of the shores of Capri.

A bronze sculpture of a child is perched on a rock, welcoming visitors to Capri. "Please come to Capri, spend all your money, and leave."

Someone had dressed the sculpture in clothes from the Napolise soccer team.

Some dramatic rocks with a tunnel leading through them.

Legend has it that you must kiss a loved one as you pass through. Of course, I kissed my sweetheart. (Photo not available.)

Tori and Kerri were delighted with the views.

Alex was moved almost to tears by the spectacular scenery.

A thin, wobbly set of tracks used to carry building materials up the side of a sheer rock face. What could possibly go wrong?

10,000 pieces of wobbly scaffolding where the wobbly tacks end. Again, I can see no possible problem.

Capri is known for its grottos where light shines spectacularly through the water making it glow blue.

Since the second boat trip didn't actually kill me, I suggested a third, but we opted instead to participate in Capri's only other option. Wandering around the shops, gawking at the incredibly high prices of everything.

To get from our boat to the town proper, we took a funicular; which means "vertical subway", I assume.

It was actually a really fun ride up the steep hill and, given the stability of the tracks we had seen on the other side of the island, I was not worried at all for our safety. Nope. Not a bit.

 

Once we arrived safely at the top, our tour guide, Beatrice gathered up all the women in the group and showed them a "charming little shop where they make custom sandals right on your feet!"

There was a shrieking stampede of women and a wailing cry of agony from all the men.

Tori was beguiled by the shop's charms. The entire store was maybe 10 feet by 6 feet. One man inside fitted sandals to your feet and made them with all the bling you wanted on them.

"Ask him how much they are," I whispered to Tori.
"I will," she hissed. And, yes, a 14 year old girl can hiss something that has no s's in it.
"Seriously. Ask before you order them."
"I WILL."
I backed slowly out the door. "Make sure you ask before you..."
"I WILL!!!"

Are you going to ask how much they cost?

"Yes!"

Before he makes them?

"YES!"

 While Tori's shoes were under construction, Alex an I took a short walk to a scenic outlook, so I would have a clear shot to jump when I found out how much the sandals cost.

This is known as "Shoe Buyer's Cliff". The ground below is littered with the skeletal remains of husbands, fathers, and boyfriends who had to pay for custom-made sandals.

We returned to the store where Tori was showing off her new kicks.

See how they glow? That's because they are made with 26 pounds of pure gold.

 Kerri was in the store paying for the sandals as Tori showed them off to anyone who happened to pass by.

"Did you..."
"YES! The lady in front of me bought a pair. He told her that they were 70 Euros."
"Oh," I sighed. My still agitated stomach settled a bit. "That's actually less expensive than I was thinking."
I was admiring the sandals when Kerri staggered out of the store, clutching a tiny slip of paper.
"Guhhhh," she groaned.
My stomach lurched a bit.
Kerri held the slip of paper out to me with a shaking hand.
It was a receipt.
For the sandals.
Which cost 180 Euros.

"I... uhhh... guhhhh...." I gurgled. "I thought they were 70 Euros..."

Yeah. 70 Euros without the bling. 180 with the bling.

We staggered over to the taxi stand where the open air, convertible taxi was waiting to take shell-shocked shoppers away from the town and back to the boat so they could go back to the mainland for rest and recuperation from all the shopping.

Once back at the shore, we had a few minutes to enjoy the beach before the boat came to take us back to Sorrento.

Ooohhh, lovely beach.

Clear, warm water.

Tori and I waded into the warm, blue water.

Mmmmmm... so nice.

Come join us, Alex!

 We coaxed Alex in to the water with us.
"Ummmm, I don't think so," he said. "Have you actually looked at the beach?"
"No? Why?"

Ohh, scenic medical waste.

And glass.

And sharp plastic.

And toys for the little ones!

 We scrambled out of the water without contracting any incurable diseases and didn't remove our shoes for the remainder of our trip.

I fell asleep on the ferry ride back and Kerri got some hilarious pictures of me with my head flopping around like a wet rag, but she'll have to start her own blog of she wants anyone to see them.

I went back to the hotel to take a nap and the family went off for a wonder around the town. When I got to the hotel, I was exhausted and still feeling a bit rocky from last night.

I almost never nap, but I was desperate for one. I stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall toward our room to find a swarm of maids cleaning all the rooms in our wing.

"We'll be done in about an hour and a half," the head maid explained.

I whimpered and cried a bit, but went out to the 5th floor roof garden to take a brief nap in the sun.
I turned a lounge chair into the sun and settled in. The warm afternoon sun washed over me and I very quickly drifted off toward sleepy oblivion.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

A terrible shrieking noise yanked my from my lemon-scented happy place.

I turned to see a lady dragging chairs around the roof.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The entire roof area was empty, but she was arranging the chairs that were within 10 feet of me.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I focused all my mental energy at her, but her head didn't explode.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Soon, she had the chairs arranged in a pattern that seemed to please her. She then sat in one a few feet from me and called her friend Janet in England.
She didn't have anything much to tell Janet. She just wanted to talk.
And talk.
And talk.
And talk.

Again, my mental powers failed to transform her head into a thin pink mist.

I rolled over and tried in vain to get some sleep. Eventually, I gave up and decided to give the room another try.

"Tell Janet I said hello," I said as I passed my friend.

The maids were finished and I flopped on the bed and had just started to drift off again when Kerri and the kids burst through the door, ready for dinner.

I sighed and hauled myself out of bed. I was feeling better, but I was still exhausted. We followed our noses to the most garlic-scented restaurant we could find.

there were many, many places to choose from.

We opted against this place even though they did serve the genuine hot dog of America.

We were foreigners AND Americans, but still passed.

And, although the gelato looked okay, I couldn't bring myself to eat anything with a sign as psychotic looking as this one. "Did you like your dinner? I made it with meat from my own thigh. Would you like to try the wine?"

We followed our noses to a small trattoria with a wood-fired oven and settled in for our last pizza in Italy.

Yup. Even better than psycho gelato.

Tori got delicious home made gnocci.

I had a pizza with fresh buffalo mozzarella and a lovely glass of wine. It had remarkable curative powers. I felt much better after dinner!

We wandered around a bit after dinner but headed back to the hotel early. We had to pack up and be ready to go early in the morning.

Tomorrow we fly home.

Italy Day 4 - Fonzie on the Grand Canal

Look, I'm not going to lie. As much as I was looking forward to the art and museums and pizza in Italy, what I was really giddy with excitement about was Venice.
I wanted to cruise along The Grand Canal in a gondola. It has seriously been a lifelong dream.
And today, we headed to Venice.

The bus ride was long but we stopped a few times for "hydraulic stops", as the tour guide called them.
We broke down and bought a mysterious Italian snack called "Fonzies" at one of the stops. We had no idea what these things were and the package yielded not a clue about the contents, but they were called "Fonzies". How bad could they be?

I guess, really, as anchovies and squid are a pretty normal part of the diet in Italy, there was the very real chance that these were some sort of gorgonzola-dusted, olive-crusted fish balls. Still - we risked the Euro they cost and shared a package.

They're pretty much white Cheetoes. If you go to Italy, try something else. Unless you LOVE Cheetoes. In which case, go ahead and have the Fonzies.

Alex played dead, but he still had to finish his share of Fonzies. This was not an actual hardship for him. Alex, being a teenage boy, would eat a brick if it was:
a. salty
b. sugary
c. available when he is hungry
which is
d. always.

We made another stop for hydraulics and lunch, a grim sounding combination, but I feel that I have to take a moment here to chide, deride, and abuse my homeland.

I have had the grave misfortune to eat in American highway rest-stops before. If you haven't had the experience; congratulations. You win. If you have, I'm guessing that if you aren't completely insensate to taste, you will agree with me when I say, "yuck."

They are grim, gray affairs, full of grim, gray people eating grim, gray food.
Not so in Italy, my friends. They may not be able to scramble eggs and the shower stalls might all leak, but wow, those Italians can make a highway rest stop lunch.

Yeah. For real. A fresh roll, fresh buffalo-milk mozzarella, fresh fruit, and a personal size bottle of locally produced red wine. Eat your grim, gray heart out, Arby's.

The tour guide dragged me, screaming and crying, away from the meal and forced me back on the bus so we could arrive in Venice in time for another meal. With the taste of the wine still on my lips, we pulled into the parking area where we were to load onto our boats and head to Venice.

Here is what you will not get at this building in the parking lot:
a. WC (a bathroom)
b. information
I contemplated going in and asking for information about their bathrooms, but the dudes who worked here did not look happy. Or small. Or interested in my crap.

Loading onto the taxis to Venice. Note the giant cruise liner in the back.

The kids loved the ride, though Alex was wary of pirates.

A brief word about Venice:
Wow.

A few more words about Venice:
Venice is an island off the coast of Italy in the Adriatic Sea. To be much, much more precise, Venice is actually 118 tiny islands all crowded together to give the illusion of 1 island. The islands are connected by over 400 foot-bridges and many miles of serpentine canals.

It is the largest pedestrian-only area in the world. There are no cars, no truck, no scooters on Venice. To get fro point A to point B, you either walk, take a boat, or swim.

(Note: Swimming is not recommended as a means of transportation as the water is... ummm... probably not a substance you want to have making prolonged contact with your skin.)

The ride to the hotel was spectacular and that was only a prelude of what was to come.

Not too shabby.

When they need big work done, they need to get creative. No roads means no roads. Excavators work from barges.

This is the front door of our hotel.

We soon arrived at our hotel which had, in an earlier version of itself, been a convent. I'm assuming there had been some updating or I have been grievously lied to about the vows of poverty that nuns take. The place was swank.

The view from the front door of the hotel.

Our room. It had no lingering aroma of nun, which was a surprise.

The view out our hotel window. 97% fewer trash cans than we had outside our window in Assisi!

With a little time to settle in before we headed off to a group dinner at a local restaurant, we set out to see how long it would take us to get lost in Venice's winding, tiny streets.

Not long, it turns out. 

The view out the pedestrian door of the hotel.

The street behind our hotel.

Watch that last step! That joke NEVER gets old in Venice.

I was excited to see that Venice provides free beer for strolling visitors. Somebody beat me to this one.

They also provide free laundry, but they make you work for that. Climbing all the way up there was difficult and then the shirt didn't even fit.

Neither did that shirt.

Parking is much easier here than in Rome.

Door decoration.

The striped poles are gondola parking areas. Really.

I love how the doors open right into the water.

Gondola!

More free beer! Somebody beat me to this one, too.

Alex contemplates something. Probably Fonzies.

And this one.

Someone beat me to the free wine, too.

After walking about 12 feet from the door of the hotel, we were hopelessly lost. This place is really confusing. We did, somehow, manage to get back in time to join our group-mates (a term I will try to never use again) for dinner.

At the restaurant, the kids ordered wine for themselves, which kind of ticked me off because why should I pay for this when it is lying around all over the city for free.

Tori ordered wine.

Alex ordered wine.

Even Kerri ordered wine.

I drank wine that I had found in a half full bottle, floating in a canal. Mmmmm. Salty.

While we were eating a couple street musicians barged their way into the restaurant and forced music upon us. I requested "Freebird" but these dudes claimed they didn't know it. Pfffft. As if.

(There is supposed to be a video here. Is it showing up for you? I can't see it. Grrr. Imagine some guys singing and playing instruments in a restaurant. Okay. Perfect. You've got it.)

After dinner, we were free to explore Venice. I suppose the thinking in setting us free was that, since it's an island, we can't get too terribly lost.

My big goal for the night was to ride the #1 Vaporetto up and down The Grand Canal.

Vaporettos are the public busses of Venice. But since there are no streets, they are boats. The #1 line runs back and forth up and down The Grand Canal. It goes more slowly than the other bus lines, so tourists flock to it as a relatively inexpensive way to view the majestic splendor of lots of other tourists all crammed together on a boat like sardines.

After only about two and half hours spent trying to figure out how to buy a ticket from the automated machines, we finally gave up and pushed our way through the "exit only" signs and bought tickets onboard from a man whom I dearly hope actually worked for the bus line. He sounded Italian so he seemed legit.

On the #1, you can enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of many, many other people crammed into a very small space.

The ride was really amazing. The sun was setting as we headed out and the lights and colors danced on the water, shining in dazzling displays off the backs of huge water rats that darted along the side of the palaces lining the grand canal.

Most of the palaces along the canal were once private residences for Venice's elite merchants.

The lower floors, that open directly into the water, were warehouses.

The middle floors, generally equipped with floor to ceiling windows and giant balconies, were where the families lived and entertained guests.

The upper floors were where the servants lived.

Kitchens were also generally located on the top floors. We were told it was to minimize the risk if there was a fire. Seems like having the kitchen on the bottom, close to the water might have been a better idea, but what do I know?

The famous Rialto Bridge. It's famous facade is covered with one of the hugest, ugliest billboards in Europe.

At noght, you could get a clear view of the inside of some of these amazing homes. Some people, particularly those who prefer to maintain their homes as a "clothing-optional" environment, should really consider investing in, and using, curtains.

This is what the bus stops look like. They aren't quite as blurry in person, depending on how seasick you are.

A gondola, silhouetted against the sunset.

We're gonna get you, gondola guy. PADDLE FASTER!

To be fair, this is the only palace that actually had a giant rat running across the front of it. I don't blame the rat; if I was a rat, I'd want to live here too.

One of our last sights before the sun set.

A huge, gorgeous church with some of the most spectacular and unusual carvings we'd seen yet.

Too soon, our scenic ride on the #1 Vaporetto was over. It had been an experience like nothing I'd ever had. Venice is really an amazingly gorgeous place that is so differnt from any other place, it's almost disorienting.

We wandered slowly back to our hotel, poking along quiet back streets and only occasionally desperately banging on the doors of peoples' houses to beg them to please, please, please tell us how to get back to our hotel.

We did eventually manage to find our way back to our hotel. Or at least to a hotel where our keys worked in the doors, so that was just as good. We had a big day planned for tomorrow.

GONDOLA RIDES!

I was drifting gently off to sleep, imagining myself aboard the gondola tomorrow, an accordion player and a singer belting out "O Sole Mio".

I smiled and nestled into my pillows. Just as I was slipping off to a well-earned sleep,  Kerri got really, really sick.