Florence's Locks of Love

Crossing over Ponte Vecchio, which is a bridge over the Arno River in Florence, we stumbled upon an unusual sight. These roadblocks, placed next to the bridge, were completely covered in small padlocks - each bearing the names of a couple on one side, with the date of their visit on the other side. Neither of us being familiar with the locks, I took a few photos and decided to look it up once home. Here are the photos:

It turns out that this bridge in Florence is a very popular spot for couples to visit when passing through Florence. No one seems to know how the tradition began, but it is thought to be good luck for a couple to personalize their lock, attach it to a structure on the bridge, and throw the keys over the bridge into the river. This is said to "Lock in" the couple's love and bring them luck for the future.

Interesting Menu Choices...

The English translations on this menu in a Florence Pizzeria were so fantastically bad, I had to take a few photos to share...

"Crazy Pizza"...Incidentally, Roland ordered this in the name of of experimentation. It was "crazy" because it had pieces of hot dog on it...not such a lucky roll of the dice...

"Lemon sauce and parksley"

"Spinach as you like."

"Blue Vein Cheese?" Thanks, but no thanks.

Beggars, Cans and Canes

I have been meaning for some time to blog about my perceptions on the begging community here in Rome. Coming from Chicago, I am no stranger to seeing homeless people begging in the streets. It is very relevant in my city - as I imagine is the case in any major city, and Rome is certainly no exception. However, the way locals go about it here in Rome is different than I have observed in other places. To note, most of the begging population here is not native Italian - but immigrants from Romania and Albania, among others. Surprisingly, there seems to be an unspoken sort of tolerance by business owners (particularly in restaurants) for letting beggars solicit customers on their premises. Some enter restaurants and station themselves next to the restroom, requesting change from anyone who passes by. On numerous occasions, Roland and I have been in the middle of a meal in a restaurant when approached by someone asking for money. Once, we were eating lunch in an outdoor cafe when a young girl of about 8 years old came up to our table, held out her hands, and stared at us.When we didn't respond after a few moments, she giggled and headed on to the next table. Interestingly enough, about 5 hours later we were eating dinner in another restaurant, on the other side of town. Halfway through our meal the same little girl appeared, with the same approach. I watched her as she left the cafe, and walked out to the middle of the piazza where she met who I assumed was her mother, who directed her into the next cafe. I found this really sad, however also interesting that they were both clean and well dressed, and I never would have guessed them to be homeless. Another technique often used here is the "performance" approach. Most busy piazzas, particularly in tourist-heavy areas, are surrounded by a circle of restaurants and cafes with big outdoor patios that face out at one another. Often times a person or group of people will station themselves in the middle of the piazza and "perform" whatever they can: Some sing, others dance, or play an insturment. After a short while, the person will walk around to all of the cafe tables in the piazza, asking for a "performance fee," and looking very put out if you refuse, despite that you never signed up for their entertainment. Last, and most amusing, are those trying to sell the most ridiculously useless items imaginable. I'm reminded of an evening where we sat outside in a wine bar terrace, having drinks after dinner. We were approached by a shifty looking man with his hands in his pockets, who looked at first glance like he was going to offer us some kind of illegal substance. He paused at our table, looked each of us in the eye, and whispered "You want?" ...I nervously waited as he reached in his pocket...only to produce a small plastic squeaking toy dog with a flashing red nose. After a good laugh and several "No, Grazie...NO, GRAZIE" from Roland, he shoved the toy back into his pocket and persisted..."Ok, ok, how about this? Very nice. Good quality" and whipped a matching toy dog from the other pocket, this time with a blue flashing nose. Finally we sent him on his way, but it was an eventful evening as we were also approached by a man wanting to sell us a miniature pink teddy bear, followed by another offering some slightly wilted, browning roses. Quality.

I've gotten a bit off track here, as my main objective in this post was to tell you about a particular run-in we had with a beggar last week. We had visitors over, and were giving them a tour of some of the sights around the city. I should preface this story by describing what I've always felt are the most harmless and least interfering of beggars in Rome: Ladies who lay on the ground on their knees, with their heads down and faces covered, holding their hands up together, as if in prayer. They usually have small can next to them for money, and never so much as lift their eyes to the passersby. On this particular day, we were walking down a very crowded, narrow sidewalk near the Piazza del Popolo. To our left was a row of storefronts, and to our right a cobbled road with cars parked along the curb. As we passed, I saw that in a small gap between two parked cars, a woman has stationed herself on the ground, bent slightly over the curb in the standard prayer position, with her tuna can positioned next to her hands. I noticed that people were having to step over or around her, as the sidewalk was narrow and the walkway very crowded. Roland and I passed her first, our friends being a bit further back in the throng of people. About two car lengths later I heard a loud Clank of metal on pavement that could only mean one thing: someone had kicked over the old woman's tuna can. Turning around, my suspicions were confirmed on the faces of our friends (lets call them Don and Ken). Ken was bright red and Don looked slightly flustered, to say the least. It had been Don's foot that commited the crime, sending what few contents the tuna can held down into the road. In the rush of people, he hadn't seen where the coins had rolled, so had kept walking, making a quick escape. All was quiet for a few moments as we continued walking, then I heard a commotion behind us and the sound of a woman yelling in a language that was neither English or Italian, but undoubtedly angry. Ignoring the "train wreck" feeling in my stomach of not wanting to see what was happening behind us, I turned around to find the woman had caught up with Don, who was slightly hunched over as he walked, avoiding the blows from the old woman's cane on his back. Whap! Whap! Whap! went the cane as she surely called him every name under the sun in her language, shaking her free fist in anger. Don, being mostly helpless to do anything at all due to his "attacker" being a little old woman, could only speed up into a jog, eventually breaking free. The crazy old woman was left behind, we were left with a good story to tell, and Don, hopefully, escaped without too many bruises. I only wish I had captured this one on film...

Tales From the Minibar

I just had to post this one, from our hotel stay in Venice. This little basket of treats sat in our room, innocently begging us to raid it (especially after a particularly rough night out on the town). I know hotel food is notoriously expensive...but upon closer inspection I realized that, had we indulged and eaten all four little snacks...the cost would have been equal to one night's stay in our room! Lesson learned.

The world's most expensive: bag of cookies, mini tin of Pringles, jar of nuts, and pack of chocolates.

A City in the Sea

We spent last weekend away visiting gorgeous, charming Venice. From the moment we walked out of the airport, I fell in love with the city. I felt, as best I can describe it, like I spent the weekend wandering around a picturesque movie set. For my friends who might not be familiar with Venice, it is basically a little city plopped down in the middle of the sea. However, the city has no roads - everywhere you'd expect to see a road, there is instead a waterway, and everyone commutes around in boats instead of cars. Taxis...buses...ambulances...you name it. All boats. There is not a scooter in sight, which felt really odd considering I'm accustomed to having to dive for my life out of the way of aggressive scooters on a daily(hourly?) basis. The city is small enough that we were able to walk clear across it in a little over an hour, but there is still plenty more to see than we could fit in to a weekend. Narrow little cobbled lanes were filled with incredible shop after incredible shop, and Roland said it best when he described all of the little shops as looking like little "Aladdin's caves." Ladies take note: shopping heaven. Venice is also the home of the ancient art of glassblowing, so almost every other shop was overflowing with beautiful, hand blown glass pieces of art. They were, in a word, stunning...and by the look of their price tags, they knew it.

I have so many gorgeous photos from Venice, I dont even know where to start. Here is a selection...

Here is the water taxi we took from the airport to our hotel. There was a dock full of them behind the airport, which brought us straight to the dock in front of our hotel. How cool is that?

The interior of our water taxi.

Looking out the back of the water taxi, leaving the airport.

My first view of Venice! Taken as the water taxi entered the town from the airport.

Our hotel, taken from the dock in front. The windows to our room were on either side of the word "Europa" on the front of the hotel.

Here is a view out of the window of our hotel room, at some gondolas passing by. The gondoliers were singing to their passengers in Italian.

Here are Roland and I and two friends on another water taxi, on our way to the island of Murano - which is where all of the glass is blown.

This man was the "master at work" at the Murano glassblowing factory we toured. In this photo, he was making a glass figurine of a horse. Basically, he pulled a slab of (boiling-lava-hot) molten glass on the end of the pole he is holding, and spend about 2 minutes pulling and shaping it with a giant pair of tweezers.

This was the result! Amazing. Especially considering that this 2 minutes of work was fetching upwards of 150 euros for a similar piece in the showroom. Yikes! But the glass artists are truly talented, and the glass pieces produced on this tiny island are sold worldwide.

 

This is one of the showrooms in the glass factory showcasing pieces made downstairs in the factory. The chandeliers were amazing!

And here are several more photos from walking around throughout Venice...

One of the famous gondolas up close. We didn't take a ride in one this time, but it was cool just to see them in action up and down the waterways, singing to their passengers. Definitely makes the gondola ride I took at Cesar's palace in Las Vegas look pretty sad in comparison...

Roland saying goodbye to Venice out the window of our hotel room. Ciao, Venice! Hope to see you again soon!

The Ruins of Roma

One of the coolest things about Rome is that it is a mixture of the modern and the ancient. In the center of Rome, you can walk down a street with cars whizzing by on your left, while admiring the remains of ancient ruins on your right. The modern day city has been built around the ruins that remain in such a way that there is no telling when you may stumble upon a structure (or remnants of a structure) which has been standing for thousands of years. Discovering these little treasures and learning about their history has been one of my favorite parts of living in Rome.

Though not a hidden gem in the city, the most famous of the Roman ruins is, of course, the Colosseum. Seeing the Colosseum in person is nothing short of breathtaking. I've toured the inside in two different ways, both with a guided tour and wandering around on my own. It is definitely an odd and almost indescribable feeling, standing inside of the structure - to imagine the events that took place on the same piece of ground, thousands of years ago. Historical figures estimate that nearly half a million people, as well as over a million animals were killed inside of the Colosseum during the events that took place there in it's lifetime. That's a hard figure to wrap your mind around when you are standing inside, looking down on the very place where it all happened!

A shot of the outside of the Colosseum. Beware of men dressed as (very cheesy) Gladiators, who want to pose a photo with you, then charge you 20 Euros. If you refuse to pay, beware their plastic swords!

Signage on the outside wall of the structure, taken from the second level overlooking the piazza below.

Remains of a statue that was unearthed inside of the Colosseum. It dates back to the 1st century A.D. All that was salvageable was this horse's midsection and hoof.

View from the first level.

View of the underground tunnels, which would have been beneath the floor of the Colosseum. These tunnels were used to bring animals and gladiators underneath the structure and up into the arena through trap doors.

Another view of the underground tunnels.

A view from the second level.

The arch of Constantine as seen from the second level of the Colosseum. The emperor Constantine ordered this arch to be built in the fourth century to commemorate a victory in battle.

The next set of photos is from the ruins of the Portico d'Ottavia. We found these ruins just a couple of weeks ago while exploring an area we hadn't visited before. It was built in 146 B.C. It was used first as a town promenade and gathering place, and later as a fish market. 

                                      

                                      

                                        

                                          

This last set of photos is from an area called Trajan's Forum. Trajan's Forum was constructed in 112 A.D. The forum, in it's time, was a large piazza and marketplace.

                                       

                                      

                                       

                                       

Ariccia, Italy...Porchetta Heaven

We found this little gem of a place at the suggestion of a friend, who raved about it's amazing pork restaurants. Hidden away about 17 miles from Rome, Ariccia is famous for it's "Porchetta." Those who know me, know that that would not usually be a convincing factor for me in choosing a place to visit...(case in point - I can count the number of times I've eaten pork in the last ten years on my fingers). However, after hearing our friend's enthusiastic description and seeing the resulting look of pleading in Roland's eyes (Please think this is a good idea! Please want to try it!), I decided to jump on the porchetta band wagon. And dare I say, I am converted.
Ariccia is a pretty little town, not unlike many of the pretty little towns surrounding Rome. Charming, picturesque, and sleepy. When we arrived at 8:30pm, it seemed as if the entire town had already closed up shop for the night...not even a gas station remained open! Luckily, our friend knew his way around and led us to a steep little stone staircase on the side of the road, which led down to another road that, to a pork connoisseur, would qualify as a little piece of heaven. Small restaurants lined both sides of the road, each looking very similar: long, wide rows of tables with a huge glass counter in the front, full of food. After we'd decided on one at the end of the road, I headed in, prepared to expand my culinary horizons.
The restaurant was authentic Italian - not a tourist in sight. When we walked in with my blonde sister, I felt what was probably every eye in the room on us, along with what I'm sure was the collective thought..."How'd they find us??" Nonetheless, we were greeted warmly and promptly given a table. The restaurant was not fancy - cheap tablecloths, paper placemats, and no frills. The food here, I found, makes enough of a statement on it's own. We were given a liter of wine and told to go back to the counter in the front of the room to make our selections. At the counter we were given what was seriously the largest tray I have ever seen to fill up with food. I thought there was no way we'd fill it - but we ended up filling two! The highlight, of course, was the pork. The cheerful man behind the counter cut meat directly from a pig that I'm sure had just been cooked that afternoon (I tried very hard to make eye contact with it as not to ruin the meal for myself...I could still make out it's little tail and feet!). We followed the following pattern for several minutes:

Man behind counter: Offers Roland a MASSIVE pile of sliced pork.
Roland: Just a little bit more, please...
Man behind counter: Offers Roland an even more MASSIVE pile of sliced pork.
Roland: Just a little bit more, please...
Repeat...
Repeat...
...Until we were the owners of a ridiculously large pile of porchetta.

Besides that, we filled our trays with the most delicious roasted potatoes I have ever tasted, stacks of fresh prosciutto sliced directly of the leg, HUGE slices of fresh "mozzarella di bufala," or buffalo mozzerella cut from the largest slab of cheese I have ever seen in my life, stuffed peppers and olives, thick slices of assorted cheeses, and bread. In one word: Feast.
The food was amazing - so fresh, there was no comparing it to anything I've ever eaten at home in the States. I found myself gazing around the crowded room at all of the Italians, wondering how in the world nobody seemed to be overweight. I must be missing something? For the record, I really enjoyed the sliced pork. I plan on turning over a new leaf and adding it to my cooking routine as well.
Besides the food itself, the dining experience was really interesting, and something you just don't get in the tourist-heavy center of Rome. The Italians, as best I can describe it, eat with gusto. Though it was just a random Thursday evening, is appeared as if each of the tables was having it's own little party. Countless times throughout the evening, groups of people burst into loud singing, clapping, hugging or shouting. You name it. The rowdy laughter and conversation never died down, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves completely. I found myself thinking that the Italians really seem to get it right in this aspect...they know how to have a good time. Even if there was nothing to celebrate, it really felt like a celebration. I know we'll return again, and hopefully show more guests and friends a cool experience...you've all been warned. If you come to visit, bring your appetite!

Ps - Sorry that I don't have any photos from Ariccia...next time! Ciao!