UPDATE FROM LOVELY MADEIRA, PORTUGAL

Monday, October 15: Cannes

Maybe if you like basking in the sun, have your own villa and servants, and, of course, own a large ship with a helipad and a runabout, this might be a nice place to stop at for a few days. For us, a couple of hours sufficed.

Tuesday, October 16: Barcelona (again)

Since Bob's cold is still very much with us, and since, out of sympathy, I've come down with it too, we did not spend much time in Barcelona. We took the local bus to the Columbus statue at the base of the Ramblas. It was half the price of the ship's shuttle and faster. Then we wandered up the Ramblas and checked out the market that we'd never been to before. It's filled with stalls selling meat, fish, cheese, vegetables, candies, and sundry other things. Oh for such a place in Tucson! Then we wandered along the shorefront and caught the shuttle back in time for lunch with Gary.

In pm, watched Richard Gere in "Double" on our TV. Dinner with the whole group. I asked Aurelia if there was any conncedtion between her name and Marcus Aurelius. She said no. It's a corruption of some southern term of endearment. Went with her and Walt and G to Showtime at 9. Better than expected.

Thursday, October 18: Casablanca

Took the shuttle "in town." No indication where that was.  Ended up being United Nations Plaza, which was all torn up. No idea where anything was. Went into Hyatt Hotel and got map and directions. Wandered for half an hour in the old city Medina. Not hassled by vendors. Wanted nothing, and saw nothing of interest. No one was interested in seeing the Hussain II Mosque, and I wasn't insistent, so we skipped that. Back to ship in about an hour. So that was all we saw of Africa.

Saturday, October 20: Maderia

Just a quick note from a cafe in Maderia, where there are way too many rich and delicious pastries. We stopped here instead of Ponta del Garda to avoid the hurricane. It worked, at least so far, since the sea is calm, the sun is out, and the island is both walkable from the ship and fun to explore.

This is our last stop, so this marks the end of the blog for this trip. We now have a week at sea crossing the Atlantic. Let's hope the hurricane has passed by already. -S

Many people have asked so I'll add that my cold is a lot better. By the time I get home I should be back to my old self. -B

UPDATE FROM CITVITAVECCHIA

Bob's cold, which he came down with the moment we boarded our ship, came on suddenly and laid him low for the first couple of days. Today, however, he rose from his sick bed to walk with me up to the Naples Archeological Museum in the rain. I think he went to be good to me and may suffer the consequences. Gary opted to stay on board.

We saw the museum about ten years ago on a tour, so this trip was almost like an original visit. It contains many statues, mosiacs, frescoes, and artifacts from Pompeii and Herculaneum which were frozen in time by the eruption of Vesuvius almost two thousand years ago. There's no doubt that our Italian ancestors lived well--or at least the 1% did.

Some statues in the museum came from excavations in Rome. The largest--in fact, the largest ever recovered--is The Farnese Bull, a dramatic scene in which two life-sized men are in the process of tying a woman to a horse to punish her for something she'd done to offend one of the gods. I doubt that she'll do that again.

On the way back to the ship around 1:30, we naturally stopped at a shop for a "ricca" version of the famous Napolitan pastry "sforliatella." Okay, okay. I admit I read about it in Rick Steves' guide book where he accurately describes it as having light layers of flaky pastry dough on the outside filled with sweetened ricotta cheese inside. Heavenly!

The cruise itself is typical of most others--food, food  everywhere and not a calorie to count. We opted for a table of six at night and have a retired couple from Queens, currently living in St. Petersburg, Florida, join us. I think they'll be compatible companions. 

Last evening was the first of three formal ones. Gary looked like something out of a magazine. I do not think that Bob and I in our put-together tuxes suitable for carry-on luggage were too much of an embarassment.

Saturday, October 13: Civitivecchia

I'm writing this from a sidewalk cafe where we stopped for coffee and free wi-fi. This port is mainly a jumping-off point for buses and trains headed to Rome, but having just spent almost a week there, we opted for a day off from touring. Tomorrow we stop at Livorno. We had thought about a trip to Pisa or Lucca, but there's a train strike predicted. So, maybe we'll have another day of no touring. I refuse to take organized ones.

Bob's cold is better, but he's far from over it. Maybe when we get to Barcelona or Casablanca he'll be feeling better.

GOODBYE TO VENICE

At 5:00 pm yesterday, we went to a concert at La Fenice, one of the world's most famous opera houses. In 1996, it burned to the ground, but like its name, which means "The Phoenix," it has arisen from its ashes, maticulously restored through a process that took many years and an extimated 90 million Euros. (Today's Euro is worth about $1.30.) The result is stunning. It's a relatively small jewel box decorated with murals, ornate gold gilt, and red plush carpets and seats. Stunning.

Sadly, the concert itself was not stunning. It began with a brief antipasto of Ravel followed by a Mozart piano concerto for the primi. The young man who played the piano, Leonardo Pierdomenico, and the conductor, Diego Matheuz, were as limp and lifeless as wilted lettuce, but a mostly tourist audience lured the pianist back to play an encore solo that resembled a lullaby. Aroused by a brief intermission, we returned for a secundo course of Tchaikovsky Symphony # 6. Its hugemungus drums roused us from our torpor and left us ready for a hearty dinner.

Our concierge had reserved a table for us at Acqua Pazza in Campo S. Angelo, only a few hundred yards from the theater. It being a relatively warm evening, we dined al fresco on a hearty round of delicious appetizers--fried zucchini flowers and a sampler of bruschetta. Then came a series of dishes with pasta, some with clams, one with half a lobster. Dessert was a series of ices served in scouped-out husks of the fruit they were flavored with, such as tiny bananas, peaches, and walnuts. All this along with prosecco, wine, coffee, limoncello, some other after-dinner drink, and a bill that made me think of the renovation of La Fenice made for a stylishly enjoyable evening on the town.

The next morning we did lots of walking around the San Marco and Dorsoduro sections of the city. Even with a map and Bob, who has amazing skills of reading them, we often ended up at Calles (Streets) that led to a dead end at a canal, or sometimes, if we were lucky, revealed, at the very end, a tiny ally that burst open onto a piazza large enough to make it onto our fairly detailed map. What we were looking for at first was the Museo di Palazzo Mocenigo, but when we located where it *should* be, a kindly shopkeeper explained that we'd found a private house by exactly the same name as the one we wanted which was in a totally different section of the city.

At that point, knowing that time and energy were finite, we headed for the well-known Accademia Bridge that led to the Peggy Guggenheim Museum. Daughter of Solomon Guggenheim, the wealthy businessman and philanthropist heir of a mining family, she lived a gilded but fairly unhappy life, and she left her adopted City of Venice her palazzo filled with 20th Century masterpieces of modern art. Although it is against the law for anyone to be buried in the city, she must have cut a deal, because her own grave and those of her eight or ten beloved dogs are in her garden.  

Next stop was the very tip of the Dorsoduro section of the city where we saw a couple of police who seemed to be guarding a Ray Charles statue, "Boy with a Frog." We also snapped a few photos of ourselves with St. Mark's Square in the background across the lagoon. 
What we did not photograph was a gigantic Carnival cruise ship edging its way past us toward a dock further up the lagoon. It dwarfed all the buildings it passed by, and its decks and balconies were crowded with two or three thousand tourists that would soon flow into the city that was already clogged with them. Including us.


On Karin's must-see list, in addition to the Guggenheim Museum, was the Questura or Police Station where Donna Leon's fictional Commissario Brunetti has his office. It was, of course, way over on the other side of the city, so, for two Euros each, we took a traghetto or gondolier-like boat that ferries a few passengers at a time across the Grand Canal where there are no bridges. That saved us lots of time, and we made it to the Questura for a few photos followed by a light lunch in a restaurant where the skilled detective and his trusty sidekick, Vianello, must have passed hundreds of times.

Tonight, we are joining Jean and Mike Brady for dinner. Bob, Gary and I came to know them on our last cruise, since our dinner tables were next to each other. We've kept in touch by email since then and discovered that they're cruising on the same ship back to Fort Lauderdale with us. And their hotel is about three doors down the street from ours. Small world.

This blog is the last of our daily ones, since tomorrow Karin flies to Frankfurt en route to the Denver, and we board our ship.

DOGE'S PALACE & CORRER MUSEUM

Today we "did" the Doge's Palace and the Correr Museum, both on St. Mark's Square. The former has altogether too many, much-too-large, and way-overly decorated rooms, especially the ceilings, each vying to out-do the previous ones. The exit was across "the bridge of sighs," not so much those of the tourists, but supposedly those of prisoners who would have their last glimpse of Venice before spending the last years of their lives in cold, windowless dungeons.

After we emergered from the dark prison onto the tourist-flooded piazza with the flags of St. Mark's Cathedral fluttering in the sunshine, we visited the Correr Museum. It has dozens of rooms with art and artifacts from Venice's long history, and nine rooms that "Sissi," the Empress of Austria, occupied for nine months in 1861/2. They were beautifully restored as of this year in a style that looked more neo-Classical than Victorian. Stunning.


Instead of lunch, we all had a gelato and Karin went shopping!

TRAIN TO VENICE, LA FENICE & A NAP

Moving day is not one to write home about, so let's just say that we made it finally to our hotel in Venice somewhere around 2 pm. After a half hour or so of down time, we headed to the famed opera house, La Fenice, and bought tickets for a concert there tomorrow.

In our favorite series of mystery novels by Donna Leon, Commissario Brunetti refers to the city's "tides of tourists." We struggled through them being careful not to lose any of the four of us in the eddies and undertows. Occasionally, we'd find a quiet back ally or a small bridge to catch our breath on. On one bridge a gondolier was singing quite well to an appreciative audience. On another, a couple of gondolas were just moving quietly along, as if it were the 18th Century, and a person in one of them seemed to be asleep. That gave us an idea of what we should do with the rest of our afternoon.

FINAL DAY IN FLORENCE 2012

Margaret Brucato, our neighbor in Tucson, told us not to miss the little known archaeological museum in Florence. Although we all slept in, it did not take us long to find the place, since it was diagonally across the square from our hotel. Among the many Etruscan works was "an exact copy" of the famous bronze Chimera of Arezzo, a cuddly creature dating back to about 400 BCE. The Royal Academy in London has the original.



Then we visited San Miniato al Monte Church, which dates back to about 1207 and honors a saint who, when he had his head cut off around 250, picked it up and walked up to the exact spot where the church now stands. From there we had a splendid view of the City of Florence, as we did when we walked down to the much more touristy Piazzale Michelangelo.

The rest of the day, as tour guides like to say say, was "at leisure," which for one or two of us translated into "shopping."

Tonight is back to Lo Skipper for our final dinner in Florence. Tomorrow morning we catch our train to Venice!

UFIZZI & THE PONTE VECCHIO

The Ufizzi (which means “Offices,” which is what they were when the Medici used the building) houses one of the world's greatest collections of art—right up there with the British Museum, Spain's Prado, Russia's Hermitage, and New York's Metropolitan. It has a couple of Caravaggios, of course, but probably its most famous paintings are Botticelli's "Birth of Venus" and "Primivera" (Spring). The "Birth" is so well known (I call it “Venus on the Half-Shell”) that I'll include only the "Primivera" to discuss here.

Imagine people emerging from over a thousand years of two-dimensional, heaven-gazing Christian saints coming across something like this in 1482, ten years before Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Yes, the subject is Classic allegory (which made it sort of okay with the Church), but the lush, sensuous imagery must have given some clerics cause for uneasiness.

The overall meaning of the picture is widely debated, but there's general agreement that the action on the right side shows Ovid's myth of winter in the form of Zephyr blowing the chilly winds of March on the poor wood nymph Chloris, whom he ravishes, transforming her into the next figure, Flora, Goddess of Flowers, or Spring. Once the transformation is complete, Flora, who looks quite pregnant, seems to be quite content with the way things turned out.  

In the center is Venus, whose pose and leafy halo suggests the Virgin Mary (divine love?) and the blind Cupid about to shoot an arrow that may hit one of the three graces, who dance about seemingly oblivious of the danger they're in. So, does divine love lead to its expression in the arts? If so, why isn't Mercury, messenger of the gods, at the far left, paying more attention to the lovely ladies? Could he be looking beyond earthly love toward divine wisdom? He must have something on his mind! 

Since the painting was apparently commissioned by one of the Medici clan and given as a wedding present, it could suggest that the fruitfulness of spring leads to wedded bliss which leads to knowledge which leads to thoughts of the afterlife. Whatever interpretation one gives, it's filled with sensuality. That should have been one happy bride and groom.

During our three hours in the museum, we also knocked off a painting--yes, a painting--by Michelangelo, Leonardo's "Adoration of the Magi," Raphael's "Portrait of Pope Julius II" (unless it's a contemporary copy of one in London), two Caravaggios, one of which, "Baccus," was so poorly lit or so in need of cleaning that almost any reproduction would have been preferable, Titian's "Venus of Urbino," and a long--no, really long--corridor with busts of Roman emperors starting with Julius Caesar and including Hadrian along with a larger-than-life bust of Antinous.


On our way to the Ufizzi, we stopped once again at the Piazza della Signoria, or Government Square. It and the Loggia dei Lanzi, an open air porch which overlooks the square, is filled with statues, some of which such as Michelangelo's "David," are copies, but most are originals. Of particular note are Giambologna's "Rape of the Sabine Women," Cellini's "Perseus with the Head of Medusa," and a whole row of Roman women looking not a day over twenty-five but actually nearly two thousand years old, just standing againt the back wall.

In any other city, these statues and even their copies would be in museums under constant guard and with security cameras. Florence, however, seems to have so much art stuffed into its museums and attics that this seems like as good a place as any for the overflow. 

The square is also a reminder of the conflict between the worldly Renaissance and the strong undertow of medieval morality that it challenged, for here, in the late 15th Century, the puritanical priest Savonarola preached hellfire and damnation against worldly excess and whipped people into such a frenzy that they happily threw their paintings, statues, and jewelry onto the bonfire of the vanities. It was also the square where Savonarola himself, once the Pope got fed up with him, was hanged as a heretic. 

After lunch, we wandered back toward the hotel looking at worldly goods to bring home, not to toss on any fires. On our way, we stopped briefly for photos with the Ponte Vecchio in the background.

A SPECIAL POST

from Bob... 

Last night we went to Lo Skipper. Recommended by the hotel, it was wonderful. Small, intimate and, I hate to use the word, but FABULOUS! So we booked for tonight and tomorrow night. Let's face it, when you find someplace special...stick with it.

Tonight Maria was waiting for us by the door when the restaurant opened at 8 pm. Inside we were greeted by Raimondo Sabella, the Chef. He made us feel like royalty. Once seated, he asked us what we liked and then proceeded to suggest individual meals for each of us. To say we 'dined' is to put it mildly.

We started with lightly fried zucchini flowers stuffed with anchovies and cheese. Superb. Bob & Gary had a pasta carbonara like no other...light, flavorful and not heavy. Stew & Karin both had a pasta dish...Karin's was with monkfish and Stew's was with seasonial mushrooms.

By the end of the meal we just turned ourselves over to the staff and let them serve us four different desserts and 'amari' (after dinner digestifs.) Simply amazing. Karin, Bob & Stew had after dinner espresso served in hand-forged cups with covers. Unique and so lovely that Karin has ordered a small supply from the local artisan to sell in her shop in Colorado.

If ever anyone is in Florence, we cannot recommend Lo Skipper highly enough. Reasonably priced, small family restaurant...Francesca, their daughter, was our server. Reservations are highly recommended as the place is very small, hard to find and our dinner went from 8 pm til 10:30 pm!

JUST A TYPICAL DAY IN FLORENCE

First thing, Karin went off by herself to visit Michelangelo's "David", since Bob and I had been to that museum (Accademia), and there's not much else there except for some beautiful but unfinished sculptures by the master. Gary had Alberto do his laundry at a place down the block. Bob and I slept in and had a late breakfast.


Then, at the appointed hour of 10:30, we headed off together to see the Medici Chapel and tombs with five Michelangelo sculptures, and the Laurentian Library that Michaelangelo designed for the Medicis. The most striking feature of the latter is the entry hall and steps leading to the reading room. The stairs seem to flow down from the center with two tributaries branching off on either side about half way down. Dramatic but not all that practical.

Next stop was one of the highlights of our visit to Florence, the Museo del' Opera del Duomo. Formerly, it was the workship for architects and artisans building the cathedral; now it's a museum with two particularly powerful sculptures. Michelangelo's unfinished second pieta, carved when he was eighty, shows an anguished Nicodemus, who was himself reputed to have been a sculptor, helping lift Christ down from the cross. The haunted face, half hidden by a hood, is a self-portrait.

The other sculpture, carved in wood by Donatello around around 1455 when he was over sixty years old, shows Mary Magdalene, the former beauty, in rags, emaciated, waiting for her soul to shed its ruined physical body and take wing. On our first visit to Florence, Bob and I stumbled onto this work having never heard of it before. It stopped us dead in our tracks. It's a work of overwhelming power and pathos.





At lunch, Alberto, who would have been a splendid guide had he been able to spend more time with us before his bus left at 4:00 pm, explained that the Duomo, Florence's great cathedral, otherwise known as the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, does not mean "dome," as I'd always thought. It means "home," the place we all come to and feel welcome. It took the city over five hundred years to complete the huge building, and we here we complain about how slow carpenters and roofers in Tucson are.

Alas, late in the day we had to say "Ciao!" to Alberto. But we really enjoyed the time we had with him!

DAVID, MERCURY & THE BARGELLO

No city that I know of packs more art into a small space than Florence. Today included three amazing statues, and no: One of them was not Michelangelo's David, although the original is here as are many copies, some of them just as large.


I want to start with one of the most significant statues in the history of western art, Donatello's bronze "David," which is in the Bargello, a building originally designed in 1255 as a prison. This statue, was commissioned by who else? One of the Medici clan, to be installed in a garden. Part of its significance is that it's the first male nude sculpted in over a thousand years. It was finished around 1440.

Like its later and far more famous "David" sculpted by Michelangelo, this one represents little Florence having already slain the Goliaths that threatened it—the Pope, the King of France, you name them. What is striking about this version is that the kid is barely out of puberty and rather effeminate. 

It was not uncommon for boys like him to be preyed upon as they have been in modern times in the Catholic Church, the Boy Scouts, and Penn State. Part of the seduction "game" was for the preditor to snatch the victim's hat. But this kid, who wears a 15th Century shepherd's cap—the Biblical David was a shepherd, after all—is not about to let anyone take his hat, or let any giant threathen his city. This is one tough dude you don't want to tangle with, no matter how small, beautiful and vulnerable he may look--not even the King of France or an assistant football coach.


Another statue in the Bagello, Giambologna's Winged Mercury, is my favorite. Hermes, who also goes by the Roman name Mercury, is the messenger of the gods, and he carries his symbol of the staff with coiled snakes, the source of magic, later associated with Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine. He seems to float on air. I have no idea how Giambologna could have done this.

Gary's friend Alberto from Sienna arrived late morning and has joined us for a day. In the afternoon, we all strolled to the Basilica of Santa Croce. Karin and I went in to pay our respects to some of those buried there including Michelangelo, Machiavelli and Galileo, while the others waited for us in the square.

FIRENZE! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Rome may be eternal, but our visit couldn't be, so it was off to Florence. As proof, here's Karin on the famous Ponte Vecchio.







We're staying in a great hotel that the Brucatos (and Rick Steves, damn it!) recommended. It was built in the early 17th Century, but it has added plumbing. The rooms look like ones that guests of the Medici might have stayed in.

No museums today; just a leisurely stroll around the city, lunch, a nap, and then dinner, also at a place the Brucatos recommended, Ostria I Brincello. Place was so crowded that we were lucky the hotel had made a reservation! I had the gnocchi, which Margaret called "angel pillows," since they were so light. 

Ended up back at the hotel for a nightcap of Prosecco. That and the house wine at dinner made for a happy day. (Okay...short blog, but it was a travel day and now..after dinner it is a late night!)