After we left Naples, we were in Spain (San Sebastian) for 4 days. Flights are pretty cheap booked ahead of time. And, though the original point was to do a side trip to a 3 Michelin star restaurant Matt was interested in (Mugaritz, #6 best in the world), San Sebastián is also a very nice beach town in Basque country with lots of tapas/pintxos (ie finger food) bars. Our airbnb host spoke no English, but we got by by typing and pointing at google translate on our phones. Most of our time in San Sebastián was spent walking around, and looking out on the water. There are 2 long stretches of sandy beach on the town (no real port, just small fishing boats), one where people swim, and one where they surf. We didn't swim unfortunately, since the weather was cool and rainy, more like England than I was expecting. We did spend a lot of time watching surfers, enjoying seeing both the long rides in on the waves and the wipeouts.
The pintxos also drew our attention. At first we were a bit confused, since in a bar the entire counter top is full of plates with little bites on them - sausage, cheese, fish, seafood, many on bread or on sticks. The system seemed to vary from place to place, but the idea is to graze on the food while you have a drink (and then pay for it - some even just asked how many you ate). Another fun part of that experience is when you've finished with a napkin or stick, it's totally cool to just chuck it on the ground under the bar. Anyway, not a lot of vegetables were consumed on that trip.
I think my highlight of San Sebastián was our trip to the town's aquarium. It was pretty cool, with a maritime history and some small tanks of fish. Those were great, but we spent almost all our time at the main tank, where numerous different fish swam around, including 2 bull sharks, a turtle, eels, rays, and other fish. The tank also had a tube built into it that you could walk through, and be surrounded on all sides. I spent some time trying to get good photos of the sharks, which rather alarmingly appeared over our heads seemingly out of nowhere. We were also there during feeding time, when 2 divers went into the tank with fish and to also clean the outer part of the tube. To help them, a guard actually walked through the tube as they worked, and pointed out the sharks as they came near. I didn't realize she was doing that until after I pointed at a ray swimming behind the diver and she whipped around to look. The sharks behaved though, and actually the turtle ended up being the jackass of the tank, trying to bite their equipment several times. Pretty interesting.
Of course, Matt's highlight was our trip to Mugaritz. It was in a nice house in the hills outside the town, with a big garden full of herbs and other edibles that you could walk through. Dinner was something like 25 courses of small (2-5 bites) dishes, presented on very unique and customised dishes/vessels (where some of those $$s on the bill went I guess). Though it's a top restaurant in the world, it wasn't very stiff/formal, but I had to roll my eyes when one dish was presented with a quote written beside it. The author was Samuel Johnson, which Matt misread as Samuel L. Jackson. We agreed that would have been a better choice. Besides uncertainty in a couple courses (did that cake taste like fish?) and why the toilet paper was black, we both really enjoyed the meal. I'll also summarize Matt's favourite, which were the final bites, a set of chocolates representing the 7 deadly sins. It came in a beehive shaped vessel, with each layer containing a sin. The first was pride - 2 cherry flavoured chocolates. Don't ask what that one means. Next was envy - just one chocolate, lemon flavour. After that, wrath - spicy chocolate shards. Gluttony was a whole bunch of chocolate covered corn nuts. Next was greed, which was an empty one. Matt's "favourite". After was lust - 2 rose flavoured chocolates that looked a little like breasts. Finally, sloth was a big slab of plain chocolate which took me forever to eat my share. All in all dinner took us 3 hours and we were full to the point that stomach aches were in order.
Well that brings us to our arrival in Tuscany a week ago. So, soon we will be caught up on posts!
Friday, 25 September 2015
Sunday, 20 September 2015
Naples..Revisited...As In We Went Back
It seems as though whenever Lynn and I have been in Naples the Fates or the city of Naples conspires to throw a curveball our way. This time, after a sweaty train ride back from Positano and much debate on the subject of Does This Look Infected? Lynn and I decided it would be wise to maybe take a trip to the hospital. We made our way to the front desk, asking where the closest hospital was. The clerk genuinely sounded concerned, offering to call a taxi. Oh to know what was going through her head 3 hours later when we would stroll through the doors with 2 full pizzas in our hands.
I digress. We are dropped off at the hospital and we are greeted with a scene that is completely unfamiliar and a bit jarring. This is not to say that the hospital was in a state of squalor, but there may or may not have been a stray dog running around the waiting room hiding under chairs, and there may or may not have been a person smoking (first a real cigarette then an e-ciggie). There was no triage to speak of, just a table past a guarded door with a bunch of people gathered around, the nurse randomly choosing people to help. Fortunately after seeing us struggle with an explanation in Italian, a kind gentleman from the area translated everything we needed to say and we found ourselves back in the waiting room with the stray dog, the smoker and eventually a lady being escorted out into the waiting room by guards while screaming something in Italian.
My name was actually promptly called and in I went. The infection was far enough up my leg that I needed to remove my pants. Whatever, we're all professionals here, right? That WAS the case until it was decided the security guard would be the appropriate translator. So in he strode, me lying prostrate, no pants, one dong to the wind, apparently able to translate about as much English as Lynn or I would be able to with Italian. We would've been better off with the guy who helped us in triage. It would've been a lot less awkward too..I mean at least him and I shook hands.
After a diagnosis and a prescription was started, Lynn left with the guard to figure out where we could get the meds before our early morning flight. As I awaited my prescription I started to realize the doctors were having a bit of trouble translating the instructions on how to use the meds. With the security guard gone the next translator was a complete wild card. Waiting with bated breath, I was very happy to see a Danny Devito-esque fellow in hospital garb enter the room. Upon finding out I was Canadian he began regaling me with a story about how he had worked in Canada and the States in shipyards and how in the States his co workers would call him Little Chief. He didn't provide me with an explanation as to why, nor what his real name was. Little chief, whoever you are...wherever you are...thank you.
Meanwhile, Lynn followed the security guard outside the hospital and across the parking lot, at which point she realized he was looking to see if the pharmacy there was open (no). Back they went into the waiting room, where various people shouted out suggestions in Italian and one tried to get Lynn on the phone with the one English person they know. After more consultation including with another guard, Lynn got instructions to give to a taxi driver for a 24 hour pharmacy near our hotel. There was also a lot of emphasis on exactly what to say in the taxi, and who should call it "tell the front desk that Salvadore told them to call". We think this was related to the notorious Naples taxis that drive tourists in circles, and everyone's concern and kindness at the hospital was a striking contrast in the characters of Naples.
Thus ends our Neapolitan adventure. Til next time Naples.
Ciao tutti!
I digress. We are dropped off at the hospital and we are greeted with a scene that is completely unfamiliar and a bit jarring. This is not to say that the hospital was in a state of squalor, but there may or may not have been a stray dog running around the waiting room hiding under chairs, and there may or may not have been a person smoking (first a real cigarette then an e-ciggie). There was no triage to speak of, just a table past a guarded door with a bunch of people gathered around, the nurse randomly choosing people to help. Fortunately after seeing us struggle with an explanation in Italian, a kind gentleman from the area translated everything we needed to say and we found ourselves back in the waiting room with the stray dog, the smoker and eventually a lady being escorted out into the waiting room by guards while screaming something in Italian.
My name was actually promptly called and in I went. The infection was far enough up my leg that I needed to remove my pants. Whatever, we're all professionals here, right? That WAS the case until it was decided the security guard would be the appropriate translator. So in he strode, me lying prostrate, no pants, one dong to the wind, apparently able to translate about as much English as Lynn or I would be able to with Italian. We would've been better off with the guy who helped us in triage. It would've been a lot less awkward too..I mean at least him and I shook hands.
After a diagnosis and a prescription was started, Lynn left with the guard to figure out where we could get the meds before our early morning flight. As I awaited my prescription I started to realize the doctors were having a bit of trouble translating the instructions on how to use the meds. With the security guard gone the next translator was a complete wild card. Waiting with bated breath, I was very happy to see a Danny Devito-esque fellow in hospital garb enter the room. Upon finding out I was Canadian he began regaling me with a story about how he had worked in Canada and the States in shipyards and how in the States his co workers would call him Little Chief. He didn't provide me with an explanation as to why, nor what his real name was. Little chief, whoever you are...wherever you are...thank you.
Meanwhile, Lynn followed the security guard outside the hospital and across the parking lot, at which point she realized he was looking to see if the pharmacy there was open (no). Back they went into the waiting room, where various people shouted out suggestions in Italian and one tried to get Lynn on the phone with the one English person they know. After more consultation including with another guard, Lynn got instructions to give to a taxi driver for a 24 hour pharmacy near our hotel. There was also a lot of emphasis on exactly what to say in the taxi, and who should call it "tell the front desk that Salvadore told them to call". We think this was related to the notorious Naples taxis that drive tourists in circles, and everyone's concern and kindness at the hospital was a striking contrast in the characters of Naples.
Thus ends our Neapolitan adventure. Til next time Naples.
Ciao tutti!
Monday, 14 September 2015
So we left Bologna last week and have had an eventful few days since. On the way to Positano, we decided to stop in Pompeii. I had read online you can spend a whole day exploring it, since the ruin site is the entire town, but we didn't have that luxury and did the whirlwind version. In our haste to get in there, we didn't pick up the map, so actually spent extra time walking around just trying to find the way out. Very interesting though, to see things so well preserved (including unfortunately several people who had been covered in ash). The rest of the trip to Positano was expected to be tiring, taking a sketchy Naples commuter train and from there trying to catch a bus that gets completely clogged up with pushy tourists. While we were waiting in line, a couple and their daughter from Malta approached us to split a cab to Positano. And thus began our relaxation for the next 3 days, enjoying the drive in and getting driven to the door of our B&B.
Our B&B there is run by a 4 foot, 90-something year old italian nonna called Celeste, who seems to be a local celebrity, and her husband Ferdinando runs (or now lets his sons run) one of the beach bars. At breakfast we met Celeste and actually managed to follow her speaking in italian (and getting by with the replies si, bene, and grazie). After Matt enquired about her sons' names, she sent us off with the italian version of "have fun at the beach" and a whap to Matt's butt.
That first day we spent a lot of time swimmimg in the beautiful mediterranean water, reading, eating, and walking up and down 100s of steps. Matt encouraged me not to skip seafood on his account, so I tried sea urchin, octopus, and clams. We also had caprese salad, which I never linked to nearby Capri til now. On our second full day, we went on a boat tour that took us to Capri, and stopped on the way back for some interesting grottos and swimming offshore in clear aqua coloured water. We were a little disappointed with Capri, which was overrun with tourists and overpriced... but the time on the boat was really nice. Though Positano seemed like a paradise, I do have to mention the bizarre presence of tiny little ants overrunning many railings and exterior walls. Basically Matt's worst nightmare. We did witness Ferdinando taking care of business, standing outside the house squishing ants with the tip of his cane.
We took pictures of Positano, as it is built into the side of a cliff and incredibly striking to see. Even now though it seems unreal and a bit of a dream. Contrast that with scummy Naples, which Is where we headed to next, to get a flight. Hopefully Matt will soon write a post about THAT experience.
Our B&B there is run by a 4 foot, 90-something year old italian nonna called Celeste, who seems to be a local celebrity, and her husband Ferdinando runs (or now lets his sons run) one of the beach bars. At breakfast we met Celeste and actually managed to follow her speaking in italian (and getting by with the replies si, bene, and grazie). After Matt enquired about her sons' names, she sent us off with the italian version of "have fun at the beach" and a whap to Matt's butt.
That first day we spent a lot of time swimmimg in the beautiful mediterranean water, reading, eating, and walking up and down 100s of steps. Matt encouraged me not to skip seafood on his account, so I tried sea urchin, octopus, and clams. We also had caprese salad, which I never linked to nearby Capri til now. On our second full day, we went on a boat tour that took us to Capri, and stopped on the way back for some interesting grottos and swimming offshore in clear aqua coloured water. We were a little disappointed with Capri, which was overrun with tourists and overpriced... but the time on the boat was really nice. Though Positano seemed like a paradise, I do have to mention the bizarre presence of tiny little ants overrunning many railings and exterior walls. Basically Matt's worst nightmare. We did witness Ferdinando taking care of business, standing outside the house squishing ants with the tip of his cane.
We took pictures of Positano, as it is built into the side of a cliff and incredibly striking to see. Even now though it seems unreal and a bit of a dream. Contrast that with scummy Naples, which Is where we headed to next, to get a flight. Hopefully Matt will soon write a post about THAT experience.
Thursday, 10 September 2015
We haven't mentioned recently any news of our visas. Well yesterday was to be (finally) the last step and conclusion for approval to stay beyond 3 months. But, lets not be ridiculous. The visa saga continues. To recap:
In Canada in may we applied for visas. Printed off bank statements, insurance, resumes, passport photos... after several strict requests from the embassy, we submitted the applications. Sometime later, we got them, confusingly even after we failed to show documentation of where we are first staying.
Arrival in italy, we had to "check in" at the police headquarters of the region we were in (Molise), and even with the visas we had, final approval to stay comes by applying for a permit to stay. Welcome to the nonsensical and over the top system that is italian bureaucracy.
The first trip to the police resulted in us being told in fact we have to apply for the permit at the post office, and then they give us an appointment at the police station (this was communicated slowly with lots of pointing, since the officer didn't speak any english). So off we went. At the nearest post office, we got a long rambling answer in italian which we took to mean she had no idea what form we were talking about. Back to the police station. This time someone who spoke english told us actually we can apply there, but we would need to give them an official letter or receipt for our initial accommodations in order for the permit to be approved.
Upon meeting our first farmer/host Giovanni, we realized he would not give us a letter (besides dogs he's apparently not fond of police). We decided to abandon the visas and maybe stay a fourth month in Ireland instead.
I'll skip over the time we ran around campobasso trying to at least get the permit application from a post office, and the effort to cancel the visas. Fast forward through dog abuse to our arrival in Bologna. Serendipitously, besides an extra chance for Matt to practice pasta making, 3 weeks in Bologna at an airbnb also gave us a receipt to show for accommodation proof.
So, we headed asap to the central Bologna post office and submitted our permit applications. Though the man there didn't speak much english, he accepted all our documentation and stamped out receipts and appointment sheets for our trip to the police.
Now we are caught up to yesterday, when we had our appointments. It was an anticipated big day, since once those wrere done in the morning we were headed Bologna-Naples on the train, then commuter train to Sorrento with a stop in Pompeii, then a bus to Positano onthe Amalfi coast. Anyway, at the police station there were a lot of people there to receive their permits, and the lines were speedy. We chose the line with the officer who was laughing and speaking in english. When it was our turn, we waited patiently and then he said "ok... there is an issue". Hearts sank and filled with dread. Thoughts - we can't stay; or, we have to cancel our reservations by the sea to deal with more complications. What it turned out to be what we should have come to accept - apparently for our SPECIFIC visa type, we were supposed to apply at the police station after all, not the post office. So they hadnt received it in the mail yet. So there we go. Still ongoing. We at least are not disrupted in our plans, but we return to the police station when we're back in Bologna in October. Fingers crossed but I wouldn't be too surprised if we have returned home by the time these things come in.
I think through dealing with these hoops we have a better understanding of how italians live than any other experience we've had.
Something on Positano coming soon!
In Canada in may we applied for visas. Printed off bank statements, insurance, resumes, passport photos... after several strict requests from the embassy, we submitted the applications. Sometime later, we got them, confusingly even after we failed to show documentation of where we are first staying.
Arrival in italy, we had to "check in" at the police headquarters of the region we were in (Molise), and even with the visas we had, final approval to stay comes by applying for a permit to stay. Welcome to the nonsensical and over the top system that is italian bureaucracy.
The first trip to the police resulted in us being told in fact we have to apply for the permit at the post office, and then they give us an appointment at the police station (this was communicated slowly with lots of pointing, since the officer didn't speak any english). So off we went. At the nearest post office, we got a long rambling answer in italian which we took to mean she had no idea what form we were talking about. Back to the police station. This time someone who spoke english told us actually we can apply there, but we would need to give them an official letter or receipt for our initial accommodations in order for the permit to be approved.
Upon meeting our first farmer/host Giovanni, we realized he would not give us a letter (besides dogs he's apparently not fond of police). We decided to abandon the visas and maybe stay a fourth month in Ireland instead.
I'll skip over the time we ran around campobasso trying to at least get the permit application from a post office, and the effort to cancel the visas. Fast forward through dog abuse to our arrival in Bologna. Serendipitously, besides an extra chance for Matt to practice pasta making, 3 weeks in Bologna at an airbnb also gave us a receipt to show for accommodation proof.
So, we headed asap to the central Bologna post office and submitted our permit applications. Though the man there didn't speak much english, he accepted all our documentation and stamped out receipts and appointment sheets for our trip to the police.
Now we are caught up to yesterday, when we had our appointments. It was an anticipated big day, since once those wrere done in the morning we were headed Bologna-Naples on the train, then commuter train to Sorrento with a stop in Pompeii, then a bus to Positano onthe Amalfi coast. Anyway, at the police station there were a lot of people there to receive their permits, and the lines were speedy. We chose the line with the officer who was laughing and speaking in english. When it was our turn, we waited patiently and then he said "ok... there is an issue". Hearts sank and filled with dread. Thoughts - we can't stay; or, we have to cancel our reservations by the sea to deal with more complications. What it turned out to be what we should have come to accept - apparently for our SPECIFIC visa type, we were supposed to apply at the police station after all, not the post office. So they hadnt received it in the mail yet. So there we go. Still ongoing. We at least are not disrupted in our plans, but we return to the police station when we're back in Bologna in October. Fingers crossed but I wouldn't be too surprised if we have returned home by the time these things come in.
I think through dealing with these hoops we have a better understanding of how italians live than any other experience we've had.
Something on Positano coming soon!
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