Home again, jiggety jog.

Cinqueterre is only a beautiful memory!

The weather forecast for that last day in Italy was bleak, but I went anyway and I'm so glad I did. It was BEE-utiful!!! I took the train from Pisa and after an hour or so, the train burst through a tunnel and there was the wide, blue, glorious expanse of the sea! I realized how much I'd missed that lovely perspective that I was so accustomed to on Hornby, and I was in bliss as I walked along the Amore trail, perhaps 100 feet above sea level.

BUT Ontario in the snow is a beautiful NOW. Strangely, the address of the house I bought in Owen Sound ends with B E. I looked at the name on the street sign: 4th St. B E and thought, "Wow, BE HERE NOW!" Actually, all the streets in this city are classified by number and East or West, and A or B. So I'm on 4th St. B East. Which also looks like BEast. At least my number isn't 666. That would be scary.

My living room window gazes onto the Sydenham River and silhouettes of deciduous trees and a big willow tree. There are often a pair of swans lolling elegantly outside my window, usually surrounded by a court of ducks. I can walk downtown in 15 minutes, or reach Harrison Park and all its trails, in 10 minutes. I'm happy. And it's so nice to have a phone number and internet again!

I've been shop-shop-shopping. Flea markets, used furniture stores and, dare I say it, Walmart. Also, friends have contributed odds and ends so I have enough furniture and dishes to invite my newly married son and his wife and a few friends for a turkey feast before Christmas. I ordered a fresh turkey from a farmer at the market and bought a Norfolk Pine for a Christmas tree. I've shovelled snow 3 or 4 times already... well, it is Ontario!

Home again. A Merry Christmas to all!

Lovely Lucca

I arrived in Pisa yesterday afternoon after doing a last tour of Florence in the morning to say goodbye. Had my last Florentine gelato, said goodbye to San Marco del Fiore (most of the churches in Florence are pink, green and white because of the flower motif). I said hello to the leaning tower... it really does lean and I saw two unrelated people having their picture taken pretending to hold it up. Then found the hotel I'd booked. Another noisy one, another sleepless night which, once again, resulted in an incredibly good day. Why is that? A reward from the universe for taking it all in stride??? This morning I dragged my heavy suitcase back down the 6 half-flights of stairs (it's full of parmesan cheese and sundried tomatoes so it weighs a lot more than it did two days ago) and set out into the Sunday morning stillness of Pisa to find a quieter place to stay. And found... the Michele Guesthouse. Yes, I do recommend it. Kind people... made me a cappuccino while waiting for the room to be ready, assured me that the room would be too quiet for me, and gave me detailed instructions on what to see in Lucca and the best way to see Cinqueterra tomorrow, my last day in Italy.

I loved Lucca. I bought a glass bracelet at an antique market, and later, by following the noise of voices, discovered an indoor market and sampled polenta and olive oil, and fresh (somewhat undercooked) foccaccia, which I watched being made from a big circle of dough that a young woman was flinging in the air just like my Nonna used to do. I also lucked into hearing an Italian choir practising in an auditorium. Then walked about 3 km. around the city wall back to the Stazione.

Trouble is, I'm starting to limp. Every part of my body is begging for a day off walking. Michele (pronounced Mi kaylay) drew me a diagram showing me how to see Cinqueterre without a lot of walking, by skipping one of the 5 villages and taking a train between the 2nd and 4th. So of course I'll go. After 12 hours on my back. I can do it.

San Marco and the Wizard of Oz

The trouble with going so long between blogs is that there is too much tell.

I forgot to tell that I went to mass in Florence's grand cathedral... San Marco del Fiore (St.Mark of the flowers) last Sunday night with a girl I met from Chile. She was going to have an audience with the Pope in a few days, and I was thrilled to be able to go to mass with her, if only as a respectful observer. The structure is sooo huuuuge, that the sound of the voices and organ keeps circling for several seconds after the end of the intentional sound... resonates and resonates, producing a huge, eery sound. We were sitting about 1/5th of the way back, and it wasn't until the people in front of me left that I realized that the huge voice was coming from a little tiny man in a large gold hat...Honestly, he was the size of my little finger nail... and I thought, he's like the Wizard of Oz!!! Not to be disrepectful, but it reminded me of that scene in the movie, when Toto pulls the curtain back and reveals the man behind the voice.

Then went to the opera on Tuesday, and heard La Traviata, done by a fairly young company in an Anglican church. It was lovely.

What else...OH! San Gimignano!!! Breath taking views of the surrounding Tuscan countryside. Absolutely lovely, and worth the tedious, endless bus ride to get there and back to Florence... I met up with a lovely woman from Texas who was staying at the same hostel... we walked around the outer wall and were equally smitten by the beautiful views, then had lunch together at a little place in the Cathedral piazza... delicious crostini. The best thing about staying in hostels is that you do meet people to travel with, and share what you know.

I'll explore Pisa and Lucca for a couple days, then fly back to London for a few days of free galleries before flying back to Canada. Sicily will have to wait for the next trip... though I love Northern Italy so much, think I'll be coming back.

Palazza Pitti and Black Forest Cake

What do the Palazza Pitti and Black Forest Cake have in common?

Answer> if you try to take in too much of SUCH a rich thing, you'll explode. I could never have imagined such opulence before today. It was the Medici palace for 2 centuries after the downfall of the Pitti family... silk wallpaper, frescoed ceilings, stone inlaid tables, ebony and carved ivory, huge handmade carpets, walls covered with huge paintings by Rafael, Titian, Fra LippoLippi... Everywhere you look, there is wealth...

Going backwards a couple days...I must fill in the space after the last entry about my terrible, awful, no-good night at the hostel. It got worse, with loud arguments in the street and machines and people coming and going, and the girl who snored through it all of course woke up early... onandon...finally the whole mess turned into rain and just imagine a very deflated me sitting in the lobby of the hostel wondering where to start. I was just about to venture out into the Florentine wilderness when I heard a brisk Italian accent say, Now who is coming on this tour? The hostel offered a free walking tour of Florence. So off we all went under our umbrellas to see Santa Maria del Fiore, San Lorenzo etc. etc. The guide was very good and cheerful in spite of the rain. And I met 3 people ... Or from Israel, Macarena from Chile, and Alessandra from Brazil. We went to the Accademia together to see the real David... the REAL David!... and later had dinner together in the hostel where we were joined by Besan from Japan who played a mean classical guitar and could pick up most songs that Or threw at him... we sang for several hours and my heart was full.

I moved to a private room so have been sleeping... important on this kind of journey. Tomorrow I will take a bus to Siena and San Gimignano.

Highs and Lows

Along with the moments of bliss and real ecstasy are bound to be the other kind... yesterday the joy of being in my Nonna's birthplace, the day before the ecstasy of seeing Venice and eating TWO gelati. The day before the pleasure of exploring Ferrara with a friendly fellow traveller named Jim who retired from teaching 4 years ago and has been travelling ever since.

Today, a different kind of day. First, not one but two drunks accosted me in the train station in Bologna. The first called me a very rude name that starts with putt... when I refused him money, which actually led to a nice conversation with the Italian lady nearest me... and the second started yelling "pesante, pesante" at me and then followed me when I tried to get away... I hid behind a bunch of teenage girls who were being guarded by an older woman. We all moved away nervously. I haven't found out what pesante means yet.

I spent a few hours strolling down Bologna's main street, Via del Independenza, to the square. Missed the bus I was planning to take a tour on---yet another bus missed---so walked back to the station and enjoyed a slab of pizza standing in the street. Evidently this is an Italian tradition because the cost triples if you sit down to eat it. Then bought a ticket at the nifty machine and remembered to validate it, then, after escaping the pesante man, boarded the train to Florence where, once again, I went in the wrong direction and was helped by a friendly stranger.

Now, in a hostel... My experience in the hostel in Ferrara was so good I decided to try again. Not so lucky this time... young male party animals next door are stronger even than wax earplugs AND pillow wrapped around head. Might as well get up and write a blog. Wait... I think they've left to party elsewhere! Oh... Buona notte. Arrivederci!

Ieri, Venezia

Ieri, Venezia...domani, Firenze!
(Yesterday, Venice, tomorrow, Florence...)

It sounds ridiculous to have had only one day in Venice, but at least I had a mini experience of the world's sinking city... water and bridges everywhere! And tourists everywhere, even in November. The sky cleared in the afternoon, and with the sun beating down in San Marco Square, everywhere you looked were people taking pictures of people. I walked from the train station through all the little alleys leading to the great square... so many craftspeople making glass beads and masks and leather book covers...Saw some exquisite jewellery, and also the Pala d'Oro with its 300 sapphires, 300 emeralds, 1300 pearls etc... I figure I was in the company of billions of dollars of precious things yesterday. Then I took the water bus back around the canal, back to the station. Interesting to see all the people who lived there hopping on and off with shopping bags and children... just normal life for them.

Today I took a local bus to Sant'Agostino, close to where my Nonna was born. Really not a tourist center, but it was good for my heart to travel through the country that she and my grandfather knew so well. It suddenly struck me while touring a grand palace in Ferrara, that my grandfather would never have been allowed to see what I was seeing, and I could almost feel him peeking through my eyes in complete amazement!

Tomorrow I will move all my belongings (a suitcase) to Florence, and immerse myself in the precious things there for a week or so.

After all this travelling, it will feel wonderful to unpack my suitcase and stay awhile!

ferrara

First full day in Italy...disoriented and tired but also elated, especially after my first true gelato. A new flavour for me, called guili, filled with yummy crunchy bits of nuts and cioccolata. That's when I actually noticed it had stopped raining and the sky was blue!

I accomplished quite a lot, not least being that I'm actually using my Italian... awkwardly, but I'm making myself understood. Ho comprato formaggio (I bought cheese) and crackers and an apple for lunch under the Castle Estense, and cinque cartolini and francobelli (postcards and stamps) and some Maalox for this annoying heartburn... what a thing to be afflicted with in the land of wonderful food! I'm staying in the Hostel Estense in a dormer with one other woman, and it's clean, quiet and cheap.

Tomorrow I'll see if I can get to Buonacompra (my Nonna's village) on the bus. Or perhaps I'll get to a bigger center and take a cab... just don't want to chance driving here.

Now let's see if these two photos uploaded as I requested...

Luke at Harlech

Wow, I figured out how to upload a photo from my camera... Meet Luke, who posed for me at Harlech castle in Wales.
And if you scroll down to the bottom of the whole page, you'll see a pic of me on a beach outside Dublin. It was my first attempt at uploading and I don't know how to move it yet.

Tomorrow it's up at 5 am to fly to Bologna on Ryan Air, and I'll stay in a hostel in Ferrara ieri sera (tomorrow evening). Today I'm staying in out of the Dublin weather, listening to Italian tapes and playing with photos. And generally having a quiet day. Ahhhh.

Courage

Okay, this entry is for all the people who think I'm so brave.
Well, the truth is, if I hadn't already booked my return flight, and set up the house closing etc. I'm quite sure I would abort the mission. I'm really, really scared to arrive in a new country where I don't speak the language (si, parlo un po' ma non troppo) and don't know where I am. It was hard enough in Wales. And lonely. I feel a lot like I felt every time I went scuba diving, and also the time I climbed the 60 foot ladder to the trapeze in Club Med... Eekkk! I'm not ready! Is this really happening? Help! And Jack's not here to hold my hand.

They say that true courage is measured by how afraid you are, and do it anyway. So I guess I have courage. Here goes!

Bore Da

Not only knackered, but sick! I didn't want to admit it because it might become more real, but I was attacked by an aggressive sore throat in Shrewsbury. I gargled it to the death but it left me feeling weak and ucky. However I don't take sickness lieing down, so off I went to create havoc and mayhem in the local villag... no, that's a different story. In THIS story, I went on the bus to see Harlech Castle where I met Luke, who was being rewarded for good behaviour at nursery school by going on a outing with his mum, Jane. They got off the bus with me and offered to show me the way to the castle. Luke began singing his Good morning song, in Welsh (Bore da, pronounced bo-RAY-da means Good Day in Welsh), and I liked it so much that I of course reciprocated with Rubber Duckie, which Jane and Luke had never heard!!! Amazing! There are more differences between our countries than buildings and currencies! Anyway, that was great fun, and I got a photo of Luke posing in his medieval knight's outfit on the battlements of the castle. The upshot was that when I left the castle an hour later, I realized I'd been singing instead of paying attention, and didn't have a clue how to return to the bus. Lost. Didn't remember a thing except the car park across the street, and that was enough for the kind stranger to direct me.

The best thing about Barmouth was an amateur play called Gulliver, about Jonathon Swift and his fear of insanity. Absolutely terrific! Four actors brought all the characters in Gulliver's Travels to life. I don't know whether it could be acquired for HITS to have a read... worth a look if it's possible.

After Barmouth, I took a steam train to Blaenau Fflestiniog (no, I can't pronounce it). Met Richard from Holland on the train, who was volunteering on the railway for 3 weeks... told me anyone can volunteer and gets free board, so that would be fun to do another time... Then on to Bettwys-y-Coed near Snowdonia. I took local buses through the mountains, and so enjoyed seeing the tiny villages and hearing everyone chatting in Welsh... everyone seemed to know each other.
Then dropped into Conwy on my way to Holyhead and the ferry to Ireland, which is where I am now, in an internet cafe in Dublin, and hoping to hear some Irish music and dance.

Nakked

Spending a few days recuperating at a lovely, peaceful B&B in Barmouth, Wales. As soon as I finish this, I'll go for a walk to the harbour, now that it's stopped raining.

It's been an action-filled few days. After visiting my Grandma Jarvis's house in Cwmavon, I went to a mining museum and had a tour with a retired miner, then missed the bus and was offered a ride back to Swansea with the head ranger (the museum is on a forest reserve). Then I heard a choir practice by a Welsh men's choir and got another ride home with one of the singers. It was a great day, especially looking at the village and hills surrounding where my family had lived.

Yesterday, I took a train to Machynlleth (pronounced Ma-HUNT-lech, with some expelled spit) and a bus to the Center for Alternative Technology which is a very well-developed center for teaching about all things to do with wind, water and organics...worth a visit if you're in the neighbourhood;they have a train up a steep hillside, pwered by water weight. Then I hitched a ride back with a handsome young Welshman in his pickup truck... I've been doing well for rides!

Today, the tiredness has hit, partly because I've been fighting a sore throat... I REFUSE to be sick! Got some coarse seasalt from the Shrewsbury B&B... OH! Yes, Shrewsbury! Almost forgot... I stayed there for two nights between Swansea and Barmouth... The old Tudor houses and narrow cobbled streets, all intermingled with newer buildings and streets... are breath-taking! The old buildings lean into the streets, some even lean sideways with wobbly rooflines. I've taken so many photos, but the camera doesn't want to connect to the computer, and the little secondhand Netbook is pretty much useless.

During a chat with the owner of this B&B, I said how much I'd done and how tired I was. He said, So now you're nakked. I blinked. Pardon? Nakked, he said. It's an English expression, like what they do to horses. Oh I said, comprehending... knackered! Yes, I'm knackered!

Kindness of strangers

First the bus left me behind in Cardiff, after a wonderful but tiring day touring the White Castle and Castle Coch with Zoe. It just passed me by... wait! I've got a ticket!...You were supposed to stop here!!! It's late! It's dark! I don't know where I'm going!!! I expressed my despair to another bus driver from a different company... he wouldn't see me stranded and took me for free. So kind! Then he forgot to tell me where to get off, and it was my own intuition that saved me. Found my way in the dark to The Oyster Hotel on Oystermouth Road in Swansea, up many flights of a stairs to a room loud with traffic noise... Slept with earplugs and a pillow over my head. In the morning I saw the view out the window of lovely seaside, and went for a walk on the beach. At my request, the owner, Cynthia, moved me to a much quieter room the next night so I was able to sleep. Again, so kind.

Today I've spent the morning in the library in Port Talbot where my father was born, with an enthusiastic young archivist who tracked down all the ships that brought my family to Canada from Wales in the early century. I wouldn't have thought of this myself, but the bus driver from Swansea thought it a pity that I'd come all this way and didn't know the actual address of the family. So he got out of the bus at the station, and kept his lineup waiting while he gave me directions to the local library.

There were quite a few trips between Wales and Canada because when Grandma found out she was pregnant, she went back to Wales to have the baby. And it looks like some of the family went with her. Dad was born in May 1914, a month before the war started, so they then stayed until 1919. Next I'm on my way to Cwmavon to visit the house where my grandma was born in 1890, 9 Hazelwood Terrace. It's still there, one of a line of connected houses that they called cottages.

It's wonderful to hear the rolling Welsh accents all around me... since I'm so close to where my father's family originated, they really do sound the same as my aunts and uncles.

Tintern Abbey and arggh...technology

I forked out £11 to tour the Roman ruins at Bath. It looks all touristy and tidy from the outside, but underground you can see the excavated ruins...the altar, a circular pool where they cooled off after the hotsprings, and stone steps to the temple, worn into deep grooves by thousands of feet over those centuries. Excellent commentary, and projections of characters moving on the stone walls to bring it to life.

Then took a bus through Bristol to the Wye Valley in Wales and toured the incredible ruins of Tintern Abbey, the ancient, soaring windows filled with blue sky and clouds instead of stained glass. I have some great photos, one with a black cow seen through the church door, but can't figure out how to upload them to "alien" computers. And I'm frustrated that my little Netbook doesn't want to pick up wireless signals and I'm thinking of throwing its 3 pounds overboard... I really am technologically challenged.

Big Ben and Roman Baths

Ah London... seen through bleary eyes after a few hours of sleep in an airport... but still wonderful! I visited the Queen in Buckingham Palace, then toured the Parliament Buildings (well, the outside), inspected Big Ben (still working), and checked that the Westminster Bridge was still in place, then admired some Turners, Gainsboroughs and John Singer Sargent portraits (yum!) at the Tate. A lovely day. Then arrived at a delightful 5 story home filled brimming with funky, colourful art. It was a magical day!

Now in Bath, staying at the YMCA. The Roman buildings are so perfect that it's almost impossible to comprehend their age. Some young people had a very loud, very late party last night, which included seeing who could blow the longest notes on one of those long horns. Ah, Bath! I bet the Romans partied in much the same way!

October 13th, Gatwick International Airport

It was on the news... our captain announced at 1 AM, halfway across the Atlantic, that there was a crack in the windshield and he was returning to St. John's Newfloundland.

No one reacted much, but I think there were some white knuckles over the next hour. Later we heard, confirmed by a steward, that they used duct tape on the windshield!!! Add that one to your duct tape stories. If you have duct tape stories. Also that the episode was more dangerous than they let on. If you watched the CBC evening news on Monday October 12th, I was the one in the blue jacket in front of the Holiday Inn.

All 257 passengers were transported in 5 buses to a nearby hotel, but some didn't get to their rooms until 7 AM because of the slowness of the 3 desk clerks, who were actually chatting with people while over a hundred people stood patiently waiting.

And here I am at 6 AM in Gatwick, having decided to spend the night here on a cheap bench rather than catch a few hours sleep in an expensive hotel.

Soon I'll find my way to the Gatwick Express to Victoria Station to have a peek at, oh, Buckham Palace for example... I wonder if the Queen will mind a surprise visit? She probably keeps tea and cookies handy for unexpected guests.

The day after the wedding

Today is the day after... what a wonderful day. Beautiful, funny, emotional. I cried all through the ceremony. I'll post pictures when I have the right flash card reader for the new camera. After the mothers were seated, my son entered to taped dance music, wearing dark glasses... strode down the aisle like a gangsta, holding hands with his little brother, Jade, in orange sunglasses and who, as ring bearer, carried a huge silver briefcase containing the rings. Can't describe my emotions. Then came 7 groomsmen, all in sunglasses with bright orange ties and roses. Then the bridesmaids, in black dresses with orange scarves and bouquets of orange roses, to slow romantic music, and last, lovely Laura in traditional white gown. At the reception, a Mennonite Thanksgiving dinner. I'd forgotten food could taste like that! Later, the young people went Oktoberfesting, since KW (Kitchener Waterloo) is the place to be for that odd celebration of beer and sausage...

Backing up a bit, the trip across Canada was delightful. I love the prairies, and felt like I was coming home as I drove through Northern Ontario, even though I still had 2 days of driving before I would actually arrive in my old stomping grounds. After only a few days in Kitchener, I flew to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia for a visit with my 91 year old mother who couldn't come to Micah's wedding, then back to Owen sound where...

Where I bought a house!!! Yes! It's a small, no-frills ranch style bungalow on a dead end street, 10 minute walk from down town. Across the street, not houses but... the Sydenham River, complete with swans and a huge weeping willow. The back yard is like a private park, and the salmon run is a 5 minute walk. I take possession Dec.3rd. Lovely to know I have a home to come to after my travels.

Which I'm not really prepared for... I didn't allow much time to research, though just bought a Rick Steve's book of travel tips which I should have read a month ago! I fly out tomorrow evening and arrive in London on Tuesday morning. Feels surreal. I cannot recommend highly enough... to anyone foolish enough to sell their house, drive across the country for their son's wedding, find and buy a new house and then leave for Europe all in less than 2 months....the benefits of Valerian and Bach Rescue Remedy drops. Truly.

More to come.

A year in transition

This is the start of my year of transition. AND my first blog!!! who knew?
I've sold my house on Hornby, closed my workshop, and will be starting my year by driving cross country to Ontario for Micah's wedding in October, THEN will fly to England for 2 weeks in Wales to visit my Welsh grandma's and my Dad's birthplace and then to Italy to visit my Italian grandparents' birthplace.
The Grandmothers are calling me!
I'll eventually settle in Ontario and set up a new jewellery workshop there... but I might go to Guatemala in February, and I might... not! Who knows? I'm going to flow for a few months, while I'm without the responsibility of home and pets.
I'll go back to Hornby in June 2010 for the summer, and hope to have jewellery to sell.