I arrived in Italy with pretty ambitious plans. With only four full days before I had to fly to Switzerland, I wanted to tackle three cities and accomplish one major hike. This meant that everything pretty much had to go smoothly and according to plan. Being that it was my second time in the country, I should have known that this probably wouldn’t have been the case. With my oversight and the fact that one of my joys in life is making fun of all my Italian buddies, I was probably destined to have a hard time.
Pisa
All the memories of my first visit to the pizza capital came back to me just after an hour of landing. Passing through the airport, I was reminded that this was a country where everyone was passionate about everything. What could be seen as a heated argument between two men in any other part of the world is probably just a friendly conversation about pasta sauce. Their version of a normal conversation is five times louder than the indoor voice they teach you in elementary school and involves so many hand motions that you’d think they’re also communicating in sign.
Other than the Tower, I heard there wasn’t much to see in Pisa so my plan after arriving late in the evening was to get up early the next day to check out its main attraction and head to Florence around lunch. Unfortunately, all the tourist buses had the same mindset and by the time I got there the next day, it was already extremely busy. This proved to be a blessing in disguise as you have no idea how much entertainment these other tourists provided. The Tower and surrounding buildings certainly were breathtaking, but the most memorable part was witnessing all the other tourists pose for pictures with the monument. Everyone wanted that shot for the ‘gram either holding it up, leaning against it or have it in the palm of their hands. It looked like everyone was participating in a Tai Chi class! Admittedly, I may have taken a few doing the same, but the overall scene was hilarious to me.
Florence
After spending a few hours taking pictures of the Tower and checking out the surrounding town, I boarded the train headed to Florence. Five minutes after hopping off the train, I was mesmerized by how rich the city was with incredible architecture, history and art. The entire city is a UNESCO Heritage Site and rightfully so. Every few steps you take, there’s a beautiful building or piece of artwork that’s been created by some of the most famous artists such as Michaelangelo or Da Vinci.
I went to go drop off my backpack at the hostel ASAP so I could start exploring the city immediately. Unfortunately, there were no other backpackers around when I checked in so I had to explore the city solo.
With an attraction at pretty much every corner, I just decided to wander around rather than set out a plan of attack. Due to my limited time in the city, I didn’t go in some of the big name attractions such as the Galleria dell’Accademia to see the sculpture of David, but I saw a number of replicas which if I didn’t mention here, you’d all probably thought it was the real thing. See, we’re all about the truth at ianployment.com!
Il Duomo di Firenze
I was mesmerized by the sheer size and intricacies of the Cathedral. Considering that it was built with the engineering of the 13th century, I couldn’t help but stand in awe to how impressive the building was. Initially, I found the choice of colours of the facade to be quite odd. Speaking as a former extremely unqualified colour consultant at a paint store who probably ruined a number of people’s homes (I just pointed at random colours on the colour chart and threw in trendy words such as “accent” and “complementary” and people loved it), I initially didn’t think that green, pink and white would blend well together. However, it began to grow on me as the day went on.
Piazza della Singoria
This is the famous piazza surrounded by the Palazzo Vecchio, the Loggia dei Lanz and the Fountain of Neptune. As you might expect, it was just packed with tourists who were there to see the replica of David and other famous statues. Some were quite graphic and just downright savage (the statues, not the tourists, well not all of them). For example, there was one of Hercules about to club a dude to death. And another of Perseus ripping Medusa’s head off. I was in the middle of enjoying an extra large helping of Gelato and these visuals almost prevented me from being able to continue eating, but I found the strength deep down to power through (slash, I wasted two dairy pills on the dessert and the cheap bastard in me just couldn’t see them go to waste).
Ponte Vecchio Bridge
This could very well be one of the most tourist spots in all of Florence. It’s only about 95 metres, but it took me about 30 minutes to get across it. To put it into context, it felt as if you were in a crowded outdoor music festival but the majority of people were over fifty and sporting the fanny pack and socks with sandals combo. The bridge itself was gorgeous. It lied across the Arno River decorated with colourful little shops, mainly selling jewellery to the foreigners.
After an afternoon of fighting through crowds, I got back to the hostel and luckily there was another human being who ended up being pretty cool. She was already in Florence for a day, so she took me out for dinner to a place she went to the night before that she found amazing. She didn’t disappoint. The pasta there was delicious. Her plan was to go to Cinque Terre the next day and I was thinking of doing the same at some point anyway, so we decided that we’ll try to meet up the day after next.
The only issue was that the next day was my birthday and the only person I’ve met so far in Florence was leaving. So this meant that I had to somehow find new friends that night in order to not look like a complete loner on the big day. I even set aside some funds to have a decent meal to celebrate the miracle that I somehow survived another year on this planet and was hoping that I wouldn’t have to eat that meal solo. How sad would it be to have dinner at a nice restaurant alone in Florence of all places and have to notify the waiter personally that it was your birthday? But hey, free cake is free cake.
Up to that point of my travels, I’ve made at least one friend to keep company each day of the trip. Sometimes, I prefer to sightsee on my own, but generally, I would meet up with people for dinner or drinks. It’s not hard to meet people when staying in hostels or participating in the walking tours of the cities. Many of them are solo travellers who are also looking for friends to explore the city with and it usually takes an hour or two before they realize how embarrassing it is to be seen around me. By then, I’ve already strategically made plans to meet up in the near future so they can’t escape.
Anyways, after dinner, I decided to check out the hostel bar to ring in my 27th year of existence with a few drinks and to see if anyone was around. This was a giant hostel, probably one of the biggest I’ve stayed in. There were seven floors, and twelve rooms on each sleeping at least six. From the website, it looked like a pretty sweet place. It was actually the most expensive one, but since it was my birthday, I decided to splurge a little bit (ie. pay $25/night). It had a bar, an indoor AND outdoor pool which was virtually unheard of for hostels. So I thought the setting was perfect to find people to party with. However, it turns out that the majority of the beds on those few days were occupied by a class of seventh graders on a school trip.
So to my surprise, when I arrived at the bar, none of the roughly 300 people staying there that night were there. It was 10 pm and completely empty. I decided that it was probably quite pathetic to sit alone at the bar to celebrate your own birthday, so I ended up just having an early night and hoping cool people would miraculously appear when I woke up the next morning.
Yeah, that didn’t happen, and so it began the loneliest birthday I’ve had to date. Pretty much other than people who had the ability to serve food, I didn’t talk to anyone all day. Having already accepted that fact early on, I decided I wouldn’t give a crap about budget, cholesterol or diabetes and would eat everything that my heart desired. I may or may not even have had Gelato on three separate occasions. It was probably the most dairy I’ve had ever in one day. Even more than my pre-lactose intolerant days where I used to just chug milk while nibbling on cheese.
I started off the day heading to the local market and found a place famous for its porchetta sandwiches. Savoury, flavourful and moist meat coupled with crispy crackling, it was heaven between two buns. The only issue was it blew past my cholesterol limit for the day and it was just breakfast.
To burn off some calories, I decided to make the hike to the Michaelangelo Piazza which offered amazing views of the city. Knowing that I would only eat more, I “intentionally” got lost and walked past the entrance for about half an hour. It didn’t disappoint when I finally reached the viewpoint. The views of the river and the city with the mountains in the background were simply spectacular. It was the most beautiful skyline I’ve seen on the trip so far.
A friend recommended that I check out the Boboli Gardens which was only a few kilometres away from the Piazza. I started getting hungry along the way there so I decided to stop for a bite. I found a hole in the wall sandwich shop and dropped in. I asked the chef what he recommended and he somehow sold me on a cow stomach lining sandwich. As this was another meal extremely high in cholesterol, I realized that this very well could be my last birthday as a heart attack was probably imminent.
Thinking that I miraculously became less of a klutz after turning twenty-seven, I thought I would be able to now manage simultaneously walking and eating a sandwich. I was even confident enough to ask the chef to add in as much sauce as he could. Yup, nothing changed. I was still a big clumsy idiot. The moment I turned the corner from the shop, I realized the route was all uphill. To make things more complicated, it was a one lane road with no sidewalks. I decided that I would just truck it to the top anyway. It was not a pretty sight. Eight times out of ten, I spill or drop food on my clothing when I eat sitting down. So you can imagine the mess I made walking. The oils of the sandwich dripped all over my shirt and pants, which happened to not wash off. So in addition to the nosebleed stains already on my shirt, I now had oil blobs.
As I mentioned earlier, this path was extremely uphill and it was very hot outside that day. So along with all the stains, I was huffing and puffing, drenched in sweat, downing that sandwich while simultaneously trying to reach the top. I must’ve looked like the biggest fat ass to all the cars driving past me.
Looking like a guy whom never seen a napkin in his life, I finally reached the garden. It had some pretty neat attractions and viewpoints of the city, but after a few hours wandering, I started to get pretty sleepy. Deep fried pig fat and cow stomach probably aren’t the recommended fuel for a full day’s walk. I saw a shaded patch of grass in a corner and figured that since I looked like a bum anyway at that point, I might as well find a random spot to take a nap. All I was missing was a cup for donations, and the whole homeless look would’ve been complete.
After a glorious half-hour power nap in the middle of a paid attraction, I walked back into the city and came across a store selling this beauty.
I was heavily considering buying it for myself for a birthday present. In my mind, the opportunities were endless if I were to wear this around throughout my travels. Imagine entering a bar and seeing the pope taking down tequila shots. I probably wouldn’t ever get a peeing in public ticket again!
After concluding the birthday celebrations with a very sad solo steak dinner (I didn’t end up requesting my free birthday cake), I went to bed at the earliest time of my trip. I told my friend I would take the first train headed to La Spezia so we could get a full day for the hike, which meant I had to wake up at 6 am. The one upside about this was that I didn’t succumb to my annual drunk birthday ankle sprain. That’s a sign of maturity in my books.
Cinque Terre
So the journey to La Spezia was supposed to take about two hours with two transfers. Catching the 6:55 train, this gave me more than enough time to also drop my bags at the hostel and start the hike at 10 am. I got there at 12 pm. Long story short, train delays, hunger, lack of WiFi and an altercation with a train officer on a power trip made for a very frustrating five hours.
Having not eaten since 6 am, I was starving by the time I arrived but wanted to grab something quick so I could head straight for the hike. Being in Italy, I ordered two slices of pizza and decided that I deserved a large beer after the whole ordeal that morning.
Ianployment Tip of the Week: Never down half a pizza and a large pint before heading on a hike.
Not only is this a bad choice prior to any type of physical activity, but I made a wrong turn and ended up taking the hardest and longest route possible. This whole turning 27 business has been a real treat so far.
Cinque Terre consists of five villages along the coastline of the Italian Riviera. Designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site twenty years back, cars were banned about a decade ago, so the only way to get to each village is by train or by foot. It’s about a 1-2 hour hike from village to village if you take the typical path. Sadly, the standard route between the first and third towns was closed, but the alternative route, although more strenuous, wasn’t supposed to be much longer. Having not worked out in a month and running off of pork fat and cow stomach from the meals the day before, I was really feeling the burn. Starting from Riomaggiore, the hike up and down the mountains to Manarola pretty much kicked my ass, but I was still going at a pretty good pace, jogging whenever there was a flat passage. The scenery that surrounded the path was breathtaking. I had the view of the cliffs and ocean on my left, layered gardens to my right and the sight of colourful little homes ahead of me.
However, what was supposed to be a 1.5 hour to the next village of Corniglia took me 3.5 hours! I don’t know what turn I took, but I didn’t see anyone else for about two and half of those hours. The path I took was extremely steep and full of small rocks. Already working with two sprained ankles, I tweaked them pretty much every half hour along this route.
After reaching the third town and seeing its sheer beauty for the first time, I almost cried, but not because of the scenery; but because of pain and fatigue. My original plan was to walk through all five towns that day, but my ankles couldn’t take another step and my body was longing for a cold alcoholic beverage. Admitting defeat, I took the train back to my hostel in Riomaggiore in hopes to drink away the pain and memories.
I finally had some human contact having met some pretty cool backpackers at my hostel and we decided to grab a quick bite before having some drinks by the cliff to watch the sunset. As I stepped out of the hostel, I happened to spot a friend who I travelled with in Spain having drinks at the bar right across the street!
What was supposed to be a few drinks at sunset turned into a late night at the bar after meeting a few other Torontians at the hostel. Not the smartest of decisions as I planned to hike through the rest of the villages the next morning.
I finally felt the effects of turning a year older, but for the worse, as my hangover the next morning was excruciating. The one upside was that I actually was smart enough to follow the path this time and it was a lot less strenuous on the ankles. It turns out that it actually pays off to listen to instructions.
Concluding Thoughts
All the pizza, pasta and Gelato pretty much depleted about a quarter of the dairy pills I brought with me for my trip. With less than half of my stock left and roughly seven more months to go, my birthday wish is that my body will become lactose tolerant again the more dairy I throw at it.
Stay tuned for my next blog as I head to Switzerland on my first Workaway assignment living with a Swiss family where my main responsibilities involve babysitting their child. She doesn’t understand a word of English. I don’t speak a lick of Swiss German. I’ve also never babysat in my life. As you probably realized by now, I can barely even take care of myself. Interesting week ahead…