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Barefoot on Top of the Tower of Pisa
Jun. 5th, 2007 10:34 amTuesday 10:36 am
June 5th, 2007
Driving through Italy has proven to be a wonderfully pleasant adventure -- even the night driving in Florence, the accidental foray down the one-way street, and the generally failure-ific capabilities of our GPS in narrow Firenze-ian streets.
And we finally slept with our glass windows closed. Sure, we miss the chatter of the street, but for the first morning, I didn't wake up with 7 mosquitos perched ominously on the wall above my head.
Yesterday we decided to drive to Pisa to see the Leaning Tower. I do find it amazing that this particular town is famous architectural failure. Look! We tried to make a tower and it didn't stand up straight! Come and climb it and press your luck! No whammies, no whammies, no whammies, STOP!
But climb it we did, and may I just it was fucking incredible and amazing and breathtaking. Quite literal on the last part, since it was crooked, worn marble stairs in an endless circular stair. Though there were no windows you could usually feel what side of the tower you were on, depending on what wall seemed to be there to lean on. I won't lie: it was exhausting but when your stairs don't have landings, you're not really sure WHAT floor you're on and not sure when you're supposed to get tired.
The view from the top -- both tops -- the one where they have very ancient warning/mass bells (forbidden to ring now), then, around the edge and up a very narrow, very grooved/cupped, very steep spiral marble staircase to the top deck. Oh, the stairs were also wet from the rain earlier in the day. There is indeed a very good reason that they forbid you from taking up any bags, even purses.
But wow, to see the entirety of Pisa, and practically of Italy, standing at the top as a gusty breeze came through, encouraging you toward the lean, but carrying on it the gentlest scent of night-blooming jasmine and wet foliage.
You really don't feel the lean as much at the top, though. Surprising thought it may seem. But to realize that the tower is 1000 years old, and has probably been leaning for equally that long. Apparently it tilts a little more every year thanks to tourists, too.
Climbing down was another story entirely -- obviously less physically taxing, but damn if the steps weren't uneven and still marble, though there was something comforting about running your hand along the smooth marble walls as you made your way down.
There'd been some question too as to whether we'd climb -- two of our party weren't really enthused when they saw the queue outside and the price (15€) but everyone was glad when we did finally decide to go. No doubt either that it was more worth it than the "So-Called Crypt."
We've had wonderful trip pacing thus far. We usually start every day before 10, and it does feel like we've done a lot in the past five days. But we've also enjoyed food and conversation -- we stayed in a Pisan café yesterday for probably 3 hours. We've developed and Bread-and-Wine-o-meter for the various restaurants we see. Even if you're ambling in Italy, you still walk a considerable amount.
Having the car rocked. We'd listen to Italian radio -- even identifying songs we heard multiple times. Longevity of signal is clearly an American invention, because we'd usually have to change stations every 5-10 minutes as the static set in.
Oh, and for #stuy95ers: Avril Livigne's song Girlfriend doesn't even play in its Italian version in Italy.
I will say though, that there's a point where you're cruising along your roadway of choice, and the road is smooth and your car is... somewhat smooth... and you're listening to good tunes with great friends and where you are seems almost secondary. Of course, there were times when the landscape was lovely marbled mountains and tuscan villas and agriculture, but a lot of the time we could just as easily have been in the United States. Roadways, I think, are often like that. Almost the same, anywhere you go.
We decided to stop in the small town of Lucca on our way back to Florence last night. Lucca is, honestly, the first town that's actually felt like a town and not an excuse for tourists to come and spend money. Not once while there did anyone try to sell me a bootleg watch or some faux designer handbags or purses. There were also locals, out doing local things that didn't include playing the accordion next to your dinner table! We walked around the city wall (more cities should have them) where people jogged and we stopped and took pictures of the sunset before descending to have dinner.
The big nightlife of the city was as the guidebook promised -- a Gelateria in the center of town. Still, though, charming.
We did finally find our car, something that I should give credit to the GPS for, because it's often easy to forget which way you even came in after a day of wandering a city.
All these city walls and things really get you thinking about what Italy must have been like 1000+ years ago, though. Driving from one city to another just wasn't done, I guess. Or perhaps if you were high enough up, it might be considered aggressive. Everywhere we went, jutting out from the highest tree line would be a large stone watchpost, complete with parapets and a tiny window at the top. And really, they were everywhere.
Every city we've visited was also surrounded by a wall. Of course, the wall in Lucca was so large that it had a proper-width road on top, even if they'd converted it for joggers/bikers, and a row of trees on either side of the road. Huge trees growing on your wall? Yea, that's a big wall.
I could see living in a town like Lucca, though. Of course, walking by the real estate office at night, just looking in the window one could see that everyone else is of that same philosophy. 450,000€ for a ground floor 1.5 bedroom? Uhh, maybe not.
We'd had this grand plan to wake up at 7 am today to go queue to see the David. After getting back to Florence at nearly midnight last night, however, we decided against it. Tonight we have reservations at a fancy restaurant, and tomorrow we hit the Uffizi Art Gallery. Thursday has the potential for Rome, though we'd probably have to stay there on Wednesday morning in order to even get INTO the Vatican to see the Sistine Chapel, etc.
Well, now it's nearly noon, and Charles and Tom haven't returned from returning the car yet. Perhaps they've been accosted by angry locals, but I imagine our day will progress as slowly. And definitely, definitely internet-ly.
June 5th, 2007
Driving through Italy has proven to be a wonderfully pleasant adventure -- even the night driving in Florence, the accidental foray down the one-way street, and the generally failure-ific capabilities of our GPS in narrow Firenze-ian streets.
And we finally slept with our glass windows closed. Sure, we miss the chatter of the street, but for the first morning, I didn't wake up with 7 mosquitos perched ominously on the wall above my head.
Yesterday we decided to drive to Pisa to see the Leaning Tower. I do find it amazing that this particular town is famous architectural failure. Look! We tried to make a tower and it didn't stand up straight! Come and climb it and press your luck! No whammies, no whammies, no whammies, STOP!
But climb it we did, and may I just it was fucking incredible and amazing and breathtaking. Quite literal on the last part, since it was crooked, worn marble stairs in an endless circular stair. Though there were no windows you could usually feel what side of the tower you were on, depending on what wall seemed to be there to lean on. I won't lie: it was exhausting but when your stairs don't have landings, you're not really sure WHAT floor you're on and not sure when you're supposed to get tired.
The view from the top -- both tops -- the one where they have very ancient warning/mass bells (forbidden to ring now), then, around the edge and up a very narrow, very grooved/cupped, very steep spiral marble staircase to the top deck. Oh, the stairs were also wet from the rain earlier in the day. There is indeed a very good reason that they forbid you from taking up any bags, even purses.
But wow, to see the entirety of Pisa, and practically of Italy, standing at the top as a gusty breeze came through, encouraging you toward the lean, but carrying on it the gentlest scent of night-blooming jasmine and wet foliage.
You really don't feel the lean as much at the top, though. Surprising thought it may seem. But to realize that the tower is 1000 years old, and has probably been leaning for equally that long. Apparently it tilts a little more every year thanks to tourists, too.
Climbing down was another story entirely -- obviously less physically taxing, but damn if the steps weren't uneven and still marble, though there was something comforting about running your hand along the smooth marble walls as you made your way down.
There'd been some question too as to whether we'd climb -- two of our party weren't really enthused when they saw the queue outside and the price (15€) but everyone was glad when we did finally decide to go. No doubt either that it was more worth it than the "So-Called Crypt."
We've had wonderful trip pacing thus far. We usually start every day before 10, and it does feel like we've done a lot in the past five days. But we've also enjoyed food and conversation -- we stayed in a Pisan café yesterday for probably 3 hours. We've developed and Bread-and-Wine-o-meter for the various restaurants we see. Even if you're ambling in Italy, you still walk a considerable amount.
Having the car rocked. We'd listen to Italian radio -- even identifying songs we heard multiple times. Longevity of signal is clearly an American invention, because we'd usually have to change stations every 5-10 minutes as the static set in.
Oh, and for #stuy95ers: Avril Livigne's song Girlfriend doesn't even play in its Italian version in Italy.
I will say though, that there's a point where you're cruising along your roadway of choice, and the road is smooth and your car is... somewhat smooth... and you're listening to good tunes with great friends and where you are seems almost secondary. Of course, there were times when the landscape was lovely marbled mountains and tuscan villas and agriculture, but a lot of the time we could just as easily have been in the United States. Roadways, I think, are often like that. Almost the same, anywhere you go.
We decided to stop in the small town of Lucca on our way back to Florence last night. Lucca is, honestly, the first town that's actually felt like a town and not an excuse for tourists to come and spend money. Not once while there did anyone try to sell me a bootleg watch or some faux designer handbags or purses. There were also locals, out doing local things that didn't include playing the accordion next to your dinner table! We walked around the city wall (more cities should have them) where people jogged and we stopped and took pictures of the sunset before descending to have dinner.
The big nightlife of the city was as the guidebook promised -- a Gelateria in the center of town. Still, though, charming.
We did finally find our car, something that I should give credit to the GPS for, because it's often easy to forget which way you even came in after a day of wandering a city.
All these city walls and things really get you thinking about what Italy must have been like 1000+ years ago, though. Driving from one city to another just wasn't done, I guess. Or perhaps if you were high enough up, it might be considered aggressive. Everywhere we went, jutting out from the highest tree line would be a large stone watchpost, complete with parapets and a tiny window at the top. And really, they were everywhere.
Every city we've visited was also surrounded by a wall. Of course, the wall in Lucca was so large that it had a proper-width road on top, even if they'd converted it for joggers/bikers, and a row of trees on either side of the road. Huge trees growing on your wall? Yea, that's a big wall.
I could see living in a town like Lucca, though. Of course, walking by the real estate office at night, just looking in the window one could see that everyone else is of that same philosophy. 450,000€ for a ground floor 1.5 bedroom? Uhh, maybe not.
We'd had this grand plan to wake up at 7 am today to go queue to see the David. After getting back to Florence at nearly midnight last night, however, we decided against it. Tonight we have reservations at a fancy restaurant, and tomorrow we hit the Uffizi Art Gallery. Thursday has the potential for Rome, though we'd probably have to stay there on Wednesday morning in order to even get INTO the Vatican to see the Sistine Chapel, etc.
Well, now it's nearly noon, and Charles and Tom haven't returned from returning the car yet. Perhaps they've been accosted by angry locals, but I imagine our day will progress as slowly. And definitely, definitely internet-ly.
