Post-travel superlatives

I know I still owe you an account of my last two travel-days, but I think I can cut it short with a-sentence-per-destination:
Rijeka: cute medieval castle, but other than that a bustling transit hub you won't want to stay in longer than a day or two.
Trieste: imperial, neo-classical city that reminded me more of Paris than any other Italian town and also has the meanest money exchange (at the train station. I should have known better, but I didn't find any others in town) that ripped me off so much when I exchanged my remaining kuna that it took me half an hour to enjoy the city, but eventually the stunning views won me over even as I lamented corrupt traveler-exploitation (run-on sentence much?)

Venice: always a pleasure, but particularly at 6.30am before any other tourist has entered town - well worth getting up at 5.45 am my last morning.

To end my travelogue for this time, some superlatives:

Best gelato: Sicialian cannoli flavor, at Gelatauro in Bologna (closely followed by Pino Pinguino flavor, a local couchsurfing favorite in Campobasso and Ancona, which includes thick strands of Nutella woven throughout. Oh, and ricotta and fig gelato in Ravenna. Ok, gelato superlatives are too hard. Moving on.)

Best high-end meal: tortelli di zucca, squash-filled pasta in sage butter, at Bella Venezia in Ravenna. For good reason a local specialty of Emilia-Romagna.

Best low-end meal: Burek sa sirom, a deep-fried filo-dough-pastry filled with zingy cheese, served piping hot in a bakery in Brac and enjoyed on a ferry ride back to Split. I also didn't have dinner that night because it was so filling (and probably contained my daily recommended calories all in one serving.)

Best cafe (read: espresso): at Cremcaffe in Trieste. Trieste is actually really well known for its coffee roasteries (torrefazioni) and Cremcaffe is the town's oldest. Figures they'd do it right.

Best sunset: viewed sitting on a medieval castle wall in Sibenik (though the best caught-on-iPod is probably the one over the Elafiti islands pictured below).

 

Best sunrise: viewed swimming in the Adriatic in Dubrovnik (though seeing magenta clouds over the Canale Grande in Venice - below - is a close second.)

Most ridiculous adventure: climbing a mountain pass road on a rental bike in Korcula, in the process nearly breaking its handlebar and acting out charades with a Croatian couple to get it repaired (runner-up: the whole getting-caught-in-a-downpour-on-a-motorbike-TWICE deal).

Most interesting hostel-dwellers: Elisabeth the numerologist (though her name would be more fortunate if spelled with a z) and Dragan-alias-Drag the future best-selling author, especially with that pen name, in Korcula.

Most demanding linguistic challenge: figuring out whether I was supposed to use the 'signore' or 'signori' door when using the bathroom in Bari.

Most demanding instruction-reading challenge: finding my hostel in Venice-Mestre (which was located close to the highway between Venice and the airport), a treasure hunt that included directions such as 'take bus #5 or 19, press the stop request button when you pass under the blue and white bridge witht he ropes attached, cross the pedestrian bridge and walk 200 metres until you see a tan building'... Did  I mention that I did this after dark? I may or may not have whooped when I found it.

Freshest fish: at 6.40am at the market in Venice where it was (LITERALLY) flopping off the market stand. Kind of disconcerting, actually. Plus I stood there watching the fishermen set up for so long that one of them called out to his friend 'hey, I think somebody is in love with you!' I booked it out of there after that, though I swear I wasn't watching JUST that guy. He was cute, though.

I could go on for hours, but I think that the fish story is a nice closing line. While weird and slightly embarassing, these sorts of encounters are what my trip was all about: going off the beaten path, joking around with the locals and, yes, occasionally (rather often) making a fool of myself - all in the name of experiencing the real deal. Which would have been impossible without all my generous, kind-hearted and oh-so-inspirational couchsurfing hosts to whom I am indebted so much in real-deal experiences and the best times I had. Encountering them was really the superlative of the trip, so Salah, Maria Grazia, Arianna, Maria, Antonio, Yixin, and Mladen - you are truly the best!! For me, meeting you really embodied this quote by Tin Ujevic who I learned about in Split: 

"Do not fear! You are not alone! There are others but you

who unknown to you live your life too.

And everything you were and heard and dreamed

with the same fire, beauty, cleanness burns in them."

The funny ferry ride

First things first - I am sitting happily in sunny Dubrovnik. I can hardly believe that this ferry ride actually happened. The German in me actually squirmed at the dysfunctionality of the entire organization. You will remember that I spent the better part of Saturday getting my ticket. This was partially because the Bari terminal is a place one needs to see to believe - upon arriving, the shiny new terminal is EMPTY on a Saturday afternoon. Not one agency appears open. After walking back and forth, we finally find a worker that is closing up and tells is that to buy tickets, we need to take a shuttle bus to the ticket offices 3 km further along the pier. But they only open at 4pm. Since it was 3.30, we waited 20 minutes to catch the bus and arrived at the offices on time - only to learn that they actually open at 6. Huh. So at a quarter to 6 we repeat the entire procedure and I am actually able to acquire a reservation ticket - please return tomorrow for your real ticket and check-in at 8pm. Because it would be too easy to automatically get the real one, right? So the next day, we go all the way to the other end of the harbor again, while we see our boat standing right there, in order to re-check-in. At this point general foreign traveller bonding ensues since literally everybody asks "wait, are you sure? But the boat is right heeeere!" no, no, everything needs to be in order. So we wait 20 minutes for the shuttle bus, take 10 minutes to get there and approximately 30 seconds to check in, and take the bus all the 3km back to the terminal where we started (and in which our travel agency had a shiny new ticket counter sitting there, unused, while everybody is trecking out west. Now we are allowed to queue for bording - but not according to the pretty destination-country-differentiated signs, of course, but merrily mixed altogether. I chat in line with two guys on their way back to Albania and an American couple that says "we haven't been on many ferries, but this one is definitely the most bizarre yet." I concur. After our passports are checked we find ourselves outside in the harbor again, now on the side of the fence where the ships are - but nobody tells us where to go next! I am in fits of giggles at this point, and decide with fellow travelers that the boat called "Dubrovnik" might have a good chance of getting us to the city. We board through the car access ramp. Inside is a huge pandemonium as cabin reservations are sorted out, with a guy with a huge Croatian accent yelling random names and worried-faced middle-aged couples hurrying forward when they think they hear their own names. Thank goodness I only have a deck ticket and don't have to worry about cabin reservations whatsoever. As I amble through the deck area dedicated to my fellow low-budget travelers, I nearly collide with a guy who has his hand clasped over his mouth and only gestures before running into the restroom - and we haven't even started yet! The whole deck seems to be divided in creepily empty cafe and self-service restaurants, in one of which inexplicably an American Western movie dubbed in Spanish is being shown. Thankfully at this point I meet 2 Kiwis and a German who raided the bar and with whom I bond during the 9 hours of travel (we also try to sleep curled up on the bar chairs, with varying success, I slept maybe two hours). On the other hand, we are up early enough to watch the sky change from deep blue to purple and red as the sun rises over the Croatian mainland towards which we are heading now - unforgettable! And after we get through the Croatian passport control (during which one of the three officers, when the line is most backed up, decides she needs a break and all passengers have to be divided among the remaining two counters), we are actually in Croatia! If only all travel were so adventurous...

Beautiful Bari

After Termoli greeted me Saturday morning with rain again, I was happy that my train outraced the rain and I arrived in a Bari with blue skies and the tiniest of clouds, just enough to take the edge off the heat. I joined forces with my couchsurfing host Yixin and fellow Montreal-based world traveller Flo (hi!!) to get the administrative stuff out of the way and get our ferry tickets to Greece (Flo) and Croatia (me) respectively. And good thing we did, since the back-and-forth along the docks and the unclear information about when and where which ticket office would be able to sell us tickets ate up a good part of our afternoon. Ah well, at least we were in fabulous company and could have an inkling of the sea - so close!! We finally called it a day and went to explore Bari's old town, a true labyrinth of tiny streets, full of arched walkways and dead ends that was purportedly designed to shield Bari's inhabitants from the gusty wind and to confuse any potential invaders. Well confusing it is, as I discovered Sunday morning again while meandering around, but also utterly charming. During these days with hot sunshine and mild temperatures, most social life happens out in the street, where people gather round on plastic chairs in front of their doorways to chat, play cards and gossip. The doorways themselves are only covered by light curtains to let the breeze in, giving me glimpses of traditional Italian family life on a Sunday morning - an old lady rolling orchiette, the traditional ear-shaped pasta typical for Bari, and putting them into the sun to dry; the middle-aged couple eating spaghetti while watching formula one; or a group of men discussing politics in a room decorated with the flag of the socialist party of Italy.
It is lively on Bari's streets as well at night, as Yixin and I discovered yesterday night when we strolled down the straight boulevards of the newer part of town. There were Hole-in-the-wall excellent pizza places where the fresh-made selection is limited to margherita, but which nonetheless (or exactly because of that?) sport long lines of customers that eat the piping hot pizza out in the piazza (we joined the masses and can honestly only second their high opinion), there was an arts festival which featured a big band and several other musicians playing out in the streets, and countless people stroll through town on their passeggiata to see and be seen.
Finally, I spent a part of Sunday afternoon on Bari's biggest trade fair (where Yixin had to work), obviously sticking to the agri-food and international gastronomy parts, to get my last taste of typical regional Italian food (and was blown away by the broad featuring of organic and sustainable production methods). A perfect end to a perfect day.
Random moments of the day:
- realizing that restroom choices may strongly rely on your mastering of Italian grammar (see photo) - no pictograms here! (in case you are curious, the female plural ending is -e and the masculine is -i).
- asking a Canadian couple on holidays whether one of them could put sunscreen on my back and having the woman tell me "your mom would be proud!"
- looking through the international artisan stands and stopping at Somalia's stand, which inexplicably featured bills and coins of foreign (and often extinct currencies). I was so close to buying a 500,000 Yugoslavian dinar bill before convincing myself of the futility of the enterprise. How the trader got her hands on these bills - other countries included were pre-1989 Poland, Iraq, Yemen and both Somalia and Somaliland - is still a mystery to me. But I love that it is featured as Somali artisan handiwork.
And now I am hoping to brave the Southern Italian unreliable public transport system (we have repeatedly waited 30 -40 minutes after the scheduled arrival times for buses to show) to make it down to the port in time for my ferry!

Terrific (and occasionally terrifying) Termoli

What funny coincidences life sometimes brings about. I started reading "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" as one of my travel books because I thought it would be a nice change to the super-easy chick lit novels I also downloaded free onto my Kindle (no shame, I'm on holiday =P), never thinking that I would come anywhere near a motorcycle during my trip through Italy. But here I am, back from an experience of a lifetime, and suddenly have first-hand knowledge of the author's descriptions of letting the motor warm up and gauging the sounds of the machine. My couchsurfing host Antonio is a passionate motorcyclist and took me on a ride along the coastline of Molise, on a road that stretches between the waves crashing onto the shore and the olive groves and vineyards in the back country. Feeling the wind tearing at my clothes, the sun warming my back and (on our way home) the rain drenching me down to the bone, I felt vividly alive, in touch with the country, the nature, the seasons, in ways difficult to describe. Robert M. Pirsig captures it well on the first page of his book, when he says that

"You see things vacationing on a motorcycle in a way that is completely different from any other. In a car" - and I might add, in a train - "you are always in a compartment, and because you are used to it you don't realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You're a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame. 

On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming. That concrete whirring by five inches below your foot is the real thing, the same stuff you walk on. It's right there, so blurred you can't focus on it, yet you can put your foot down and touch it anytime, and the whole thing, the whole experience, is never removed from immediate consciousness."

My visit to Termoli has been punctured by rain, heavy torrential rainfalls, and as luck would have it, it caught Antonio and me on the motorcycle both on the way from the bus station home yesterday and on our way home today from Vasto, which is the town right next to Termoli with a beautiful old town quarter and a view onto the Adriatic that is incredible. The rain pounding onto the roof yesterday made me equal parts lazy and anxious - I guess some days my type A personality still comes through more often than others. I had wanted to visit the Tremiti-Islands today, a group of islands with little inhabitants and crystal-clear water, but due to the weather forecast decided it wasn't worth the 30 Euros of ferry-fare if I wasn't sure of good weather. A good reminder to slow down, take life as it comes, and stop planning sometimes. Because once the sky inexplicably cleared up around noon, and the sun came out, two things happened - first I appreciated the warmth of the rays much more than any other day of my trip, having been temporarily deprived of them, and second I was reminded to remain spontaneous and, in the literal as well as figurative sense, follow the blue skies ahead. They took us to Vasto today instead of the Tremiti Islands, and oh boy was it a terrific experience, quick rain shower included. The surprising generosity of the weather made Antonio and I appreciate our experience so much more, and the sky as well as the sea looked much more wild and dramatic than when the sun is out and the sky is blue non-stop. Pictures are on my camera, but google images should give you an approximation of what I saw until I can add them in (source http://www.vesuviotour.com/indi/_pics/3/0/holiday-molise_4306830512.jpg,  http://insidersabroad.s3.amazonaws.com/regions/Molise/termoli.jpg and http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7110/7710390814_9250382003.jpg). 

(the fishing huts really look like this and are super old, but still in use to haul in the catch of the day.)

 (we also visited Termoli at night yesterday once the rain stopped.)

(this is approximately what the sky looked like, though my photos may not be quite so dramatic.)

See you tomorrow in Bari! 

P.S. In case you were wondering, the "occasionally terrifying" was in reference to motorcycle riding on the highway. So cool - (and I totally trusted Antonio, who has.been riding motorcycles since he was 15) - but so terrifying.

Culture in Campobasso

(running out of alliteration-worthy titles here...)
After a final jog with Arianna in Ancona (during which we plucked ripe figs from a random tree in the neighborhood. Seriously, paradise much?) I made it to the train station with 4 (!!) minutes to spare to catch my train to Campobasso. Really good timing... And while my train ride first led along the coast in a series of picturesque moments, after I switched trains in Termoli (to the smallest train ever, consisting of 2 sole carriages! I was convinced there must have been a mistake and the real train would be arriving soon, but no, mini-train, me and 5 other voyagers were off together), the landscape became more diverse. The Molise region is known for 2 things: wine and olive oil, and that is what you could see between rolling hills and tiny villages: rows and rows of olive trees and vineyards.
Once I arrived in Campobasso, my couchsurfing hostess Maria was already waiting and took me to the Museo dei Misteri, an exhibition of the most peculiar tradition of Campobasso -every year in June, Campobassans organize a procession dedicated to different saints, in which bible scenes are represented by children - with the twist that the children are suspended on metal constructs that are several meters high and are carried through the streets by the strongest men in Campobasso, giving the impression of flying angels and saints. Seriously, it is hard to describe, but looks both impressive and terrifying - I'm not sure that I would let my six-year-old be strapped to a metal rod and lifted 3 meters high, but then again I am no real Campobassan. I was assured it was safe. (pictures from the Internet: http://www.trovafesta.it/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/misteri-campobasso-1336946051.jpg and http://www.montidelmatese.it/backoffice_website/thumb/32/thumb3_d9ecbc88ade15353df719eb0139b2e0b_11563.jpg).
In the evening I was allowed to take part in a typical Italian family gathering because it was Maria's sister-in-law's birthday, and tried hard to follow the conversation where 20 people argue about 3 different things until all of a sudden a question is directed at you - Come????
The next day Maria and her friend Carmen took me to Saepinum, one of the best-preserved Roman provincial towns in the area, which is literally in the middle of nowhere. There is no entrance fee (except for a random woman that collected a parking fee in a deserted parking lot), there are no swarms of tourists, and right next to the excavation sites are a couple of old-style farms with chicken, sheep, vineyards and a cow. This, however, makes Saepinum so charming - in addition to the fact that upto now less than 50% of the area has been excavated because, as Carmen explained, this region of Italy has way too much history and way too little funds. It was definitely worth my visit just to rekindle the Latin-nerd in me, remind myself of the Romans' ingenuousness, and to see the gorgeous Molise countryside with mountains looming in the distance and afternoon sunlight filtering through pine trees. Salve!

Amazing Ancona

In my guidebook, Ancona was described as a rather dull harbor city whose main attraction were the ferries leaving it, en route to Greece and Croatia. And, truth be told, it's not the prettiest of cities I've visited. But it sports two major draws to it: first, one I expected, amazing nature. Just south of the city begins the Conero Riviera with breathtakingly beautiful cliffy beaches. This was one of the main reasons I wanted to stop here in the first place. Secondly, however, Ancona has some of the friendliest and most welcoming people -at least if my couch surfing hostess Arianna, her family amd friends are exemplary Anconites. When I first arrived at the train station after my quick visit to Cesenatico, Arianna was there to greet me and take me to the Pasetto, the rocky beach promenade that is accessible right from the city centre. Here, a lot of Anconites come for a quick swim or a picknick after work -I would probably not be able to stay away from the beach a single day if I had it right in front of my doorstep! After a short gelato break, Arianna drove me back to her family's house and I met her mom and her sisters Greta and Giorgia, as well as dogs Rufus and Kris. What a girl power family! And in a fun english-Italian conversation, we all had the possibility to practice our language skills - I am still muddling along in pseudo-Italian which with some gesticulation and a lot of goodwill is apparently understood by the locals. In the evening, we went out with Arianna's friends to enjoy a picknick and fireworks that were put on by the city in order to celebrate the eviction of the Nazis in World War II ( while Mussolini- built monuments are still proudly standing. Interesting...). Quick Ancona-travel trip: from the Duomo you have the best view of both the city, harbor and coastline and you can almost see all the way over to Rimini.

Second Ancona-travel tip: GO TO MEZZAVALLE. This half-moon shaped bay at the Conero Riviera is as non-touristic as it gets, with nudist bathers, dog walkers and people who build little sun-protection huts from driftwood. It is also amazingly clean and the water is crystal clear. This is where Arianna and I spent the majority of Monday, with an epic 2 hour out and back swimming trip along the coast and plenty of sunbathing time. Unforgettable. We also checked out Portonovo, which is easier reachable by bus and has more amenities, such as public toilets and showers.. Depends on what you prefer. But the moment when you hike up a dirt path and all of a sudden have free sight of a cliff, a bay and endless water reaching up to the horizon is indescribable. I didn't take my iPod to the beach, so you get pics from the internet (sources:
http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1213/1231932401_a33fd05b58_z.jpg?zz=1;
http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6005/5946132973_3c33fbfacc_z.jpg;
http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3575/3792520739_51c230d1d2_z.jpg?zz=1), but I swear it looked just like that.
In the evening we went out for drinks and aperitivo (awesome Italian invention: get a drink and stuff yourself with snacks from the free buffet so you don't have to pay for dinner) and walked around a bit more, but I was beat: sun + water + ridonculous swim = perfect day + exhausted Janina.

Cute Cesenatico

After prying myself from the extremely welcoming Ravenna, I took the train onwards into the South - however only for 40 minutes, after which I reached Cesenatico. Described on a travel blog as one of the "hidden pearls of the Adriatic", at least the hidden part was certainly true, since the majority of my couchsurfing hosts had never heard of it (though Maria Grazia said it was nice). And when I arrived, it seemed I was in the middle of no-man's-land again reminiscent of my Hungary adventures. But then, oh my, I follow the signs to the city centre and all of a sudden am welcomes by a canal (which lead all the way to the sea) that was full of historic sailing boats. Wandering along the canal, I found the fish market (peschateria??), a tiny organic farmers market where I got the juiciest peaches and most flavorful tomatoes, and plenty of little restaurants and specialty stores. The streets were filled with cyclists, people taking a stroll in their swimsuit, and what in general seemed like weekend tourists. And when I reached the sea, I got why: there was a sandy beach completely covered in umbrellas and a yacht harbor that sported some of the snaggiest boats I have yet seen. After a 40 cent, 30 sec ferry ride to the other side of the canal (there was actually no other way to switch sides), another stroll along the canal back, during which I resisted the tempting smells of the trattorias preparing for lunch service, and a picknick lunch with my market haul and a fresh piece of bakery bread, I had to admit that also the "pearl" part of Cesenaticos description was totally spot on.

Ravenna - mi Amore

I have no idea why Ravenna isn't swarming with tourists. Though now I feel like I cursed it, because not being full with tourists makes out a big part of its charm. Besides being an adorable small and friendly town, however, it can also boast a super rich history - having been part of the West Roman, Goth and Byzantine Empires - as well as no less than 8 UN world heritage sites, including the most gorgeous mosaics I have ever seen. Oh, and it's got a beach (at which I incidentally relaxed all morning today). A huge part of my great time here is also due to my couch surfing host Maria Grazia, who - get this - is the director of Ravenna's tourism office and of its public library, and thus possesses a wealth of information on the region and its attractions. Plus, she made me taste the culinary highlights of the Emilia-Romana region (cappelletti- tortellinis filled with spicy cheese from the region-, primo sale cheese which looks like mozzarella but tastes much fresher and lighter, some yummy cookie with jam filling, ravioli alla zucca - filled with squash-, panna cotta with strawberries... Let's just say these past few days were a culinary highlight. Oh, and did I mention the ricotta gelato with thick strands of fig preserves waved throughout?) and she showed me her favorite beach with prime beach chair position - in the first row facing the water. Heavenly. Now I understand why she says she would never move away from Ravenna.. Hell, I find it hard to leave! But new adventures await!
To end this post, here are 5 fun facts about Ravenna:
1. It boasts some of the coolest stories of women in power, including Theodora, wife of Emperor Justinian, who was so influential random rumors were spread to weaken her - including that she had been a child prostitute and starred in weirdo travelling sex shows before getting Justinian to fall for her and, after his mum died, change like a gazillion laws to be allowed to marry her.
2. Or like Galla Placidia, who was Emperor Honorius' half sister and pretty much ran the place, until she was kidnapped by the Goths. However, then she preceded to marrying her kidnapper, and going into battle with him. Then after he was assassinated she was bought back by the Romans, was forced to marry a general and carry his child, but THEN her son was crowned Emperor at the age of 6 - guess that second husband didn't really live long either - and she got to rule an Empire all over again! Hell yes, girl.
3. Ravenna used to be a harbor town and one of the West Roman Empires most important fleet harbors (as well as its capital as of 402); however, since it is located at the southmost point of the Po-delta with time the seashore receded to around 8km away from the city centre where there are now tiny lidos for the beachtime of the locals.
4. It is also the city where Dante died and the locals are crazy proud of that fact - they organize festivals every year with recitals, concerts and the like - it was just happening this week while I was here - and Maria Grazia says she is dreading 2021, when some huge anniversary is coming up.
5. Ravenna is a candidate for the European cultural capital of 2019 - I really hope they get it, they have more than enough culture to show for it!