A delicious smell filled the air as I ran past a small
bakery sandwiched between two apartments in the narrow alley way. Inside the window lay trays full of Italian
pastries, cakes, and cookies. I inhaled
the heavenly aroma, thinking that I had just found a great place to stop by and
get some breakfast once I finished running and took a shower. Tall apartment buildings with the occasional
store on the ground floor lined the narrow alley way as I ran along, the alley
eventually giving way to a sidewalk. It
was a typical city block with sidewalks on either side and buildings, shops,
and restaurants lining the way. Only one
minor difference; there was no street between the sidewalks, there was a
canal. The city of Venice (or Venezia in
Italian) has over one hundred and seventy-seven of these canals. Acting as streets, they divide the city into
one hundred and eighteen different islands which are all connected by over four
hundred bridges. I ran down the sidewalk
and onto a bridge where I stopped to take in the view. Colorful venetian style buildings lined the
canal in a straight line before curving to the right in the distance. The sun had begun to make its way into the
sky and was casting an orange glow on the water and the boats that rested in
the water tied up near the sidewalk.
Janet and I had arrived in Venice the evening before. It was the first of many cities we would be
traveling through during our epic Italian/Greek honeymoon. We were starting off in Venice and would be
traveling through Florence and Cinque Terre before flying to Greece and
spending time in Santorini and Mykonos.
I ran past a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant where Janet and I had
gotten pizza the night before. It was
quite small with only a large pizza oven, a counter where orders were taken, a
glass case beneath the counter to display pizza slices, and another small
counter with a helping of condiments and napkins. There was no place to sit inside and could
probably accommodate no more than ten people at once. I’ve said for many years based on experience
that these restaurants always have the most delicious food. We stumbled upon this place the night before
while walking around town and I told Janet “This pizza is going to be
awesome. I can tell by the look of this
place”. And indeed, it was! The slices were large and thin with fresh
ingredients and incredibly appetizing.
I’ve had plenty of delicious pizza in the USA but this was on a whole
new level. It was unlike any pizza I had
tasted before. The deliciousness of
authentic Italian pizza derives not only from the freshness of the ingredients
used but the way it is prepared. The
dough is stretched extremely thin and is often cooked only for a couple of
minutes at an extremely hot temperature which creates a crust that is crispy on
the outside and moist and soft on the inside.
The serving of cheese is relatively light and the sauce exquisitely
fresh. With tomatoes being a key
ingredient in Italian cuisine, the tomato puree combined with garlic, olive
oil, and oregano gives the sauce a distinct and robust flavor. The pizza was so good we went back for
seconds and thirds. And of course, we
had some tasty gelato and red wine for dessert from the gelato shop and wine
bar which were conveniently located within fifty feet of the pizza joint.
Cafés were opening, produce stands were being
set up, and souvenir shop owners were opening their stores as I ran down the
relatively quiet walkway which would be cluttered with thousands of pedestrians
within an hour. One of my favorite
things about running in an unfamiliar place is people watching. It’s fascinating to run by watching the
locals go about their day to day lives in a place that is so different than
home. Every city and every country has
their own unique way of life and running through these neighborhoods offers a
unique look at the everyday morning routine for the inhabitants of such
places.
Running in Florence (Firenze in Italian) was a different vibe. We stayed in a loft in a quaint residential
neighborhood up in the hills on the outskirts of town, about three miles from
the town center. Unlike Venice where it
was relatively flat, my route in Florence followed a narrow road that climbed up
a gradual incline. As I casually
strolled up the road, the quiet, residential neighborhood slowly faded away,
the area becoming more remote.
Approaching the foothills of the nearby mountain range, a stone wall
came into view up ahead. As I got
closer, I could see that the road continued as it curved up to the left past
the wall. Turning to the left, I now ran
with foothills to my right, and a distant view of downtown Florence to my left. I ran past a couple of rows of houses as I
crested the hill and began descending back down. I ran carefully, thinking that a car could
come whizzing up the narrow road without warning but I didn’t see any cars
anywhere. I began to realize that unless
someone lived in the row of houses at the crest of this hill, they would likely
have no reason whatsoever to drive down this road. As I continued to descend, the road passed
through a small vineyard with trees lining the side of the street. I reveled in the tranquility of the
experience. It was a beautiful, sunny
morning, not too hot, not too cool. It
was dead silent when I paused the music on my ipod and I decided to unplug for
a little while and enjoy the peaceful surroundings. The quiet street eventually led down to a
busier main road and I was soon deposited back into civilization.
We had friends from Los Angeles who just happened to be
traveling through Florence at the same time so we made plans to meet up that
afternoon. After rendezvousing at the
San Marco Piazza, we walked together and climbed the four hundred and
sixty-three steps that led to the top of the giant dome at the Florence Cathedral. The view from the top of the Duomo resembled
a sea of large, rectangular white and yellow buildings with brick red rooftops
being dissected by narrow streets with the occasional clock tower or cathedral
poking through. In the background lay
the green peaks of the Apennine Mountains.
The climb to the top had gotten our hearts pumping but the sweeping,
panoramic view was well worth it. After
climbing the Bell Tower and visiting the Uffizi Gallery, we dined at a steak
restaurant recommended by a tour guide.
He advised us to use our fingers when ordering a steak. The best way I can describe this process is to
hold your hand out like you’re going to shake someone’s hand, lower your thumb,
and you use your fingers to show how thick you want your steak. You use all four fingers if you want the
thickest cut, or three fingers for the next thickest cut, etc. We did as the tour guide instructed and
twenty minutes later a whopping forty-nine ounce, rare cooked, masterfully
prepared steak arrived at our table. It
was the biggest steak I’d ever seen and looked like something that you would
feed a crocodile. It took all four of us
to finish it and it was delicious!
The
next morning, we bid our friends farewell and while they continued their
journey to Rome, Janet and I headed to Cinque Terre. This distinct region along the northwestern
coast of Italy is composed of five small distinct villages all connected by
boats, trains, and hiking trails. The
area is not accessible by car from the outside but several trains are available
with stops in all five villages. Like
Venice and Florence, Cinque Terre had a personality all of its own. But unlike
Venice and Florence, there were no museums, souvenir vendors, or tall towers to
climb up. The landscape resembled a
rugged mountain village with a small downtown and featured several colored
buildings along steep cliffs, some with long drop offs, and blue ocean below. Along the cliffs were several harbors and the
land loosely resembled the shape of a horseshoe which made for some great views
and sightseeing. Following the walkway, we came to a small harbor where several people were
swimming. Jumping off the cliff side into
the clean, turquoise Mediterranean water was incredibly soothing. We swam around for a while and later sat at
an outdoor lounge enjoying Campari spritzes and appetizers while taking in the
view. We sat there for hours and as the
sun set, the lights of the buildings began to shine, creating a multi-colored
scene of buildings on hills along the cliff side. The view was breathtaking and we couldn’t get
enough.
The next afternoon, we were on a train back to Venice to
stay for one more night. We loved Cinque
Terre and would have loved to have stayed longer but we were thankful for our visit
and happy that we had a chance to experience three very distinct areas of
Italy. It was nothing short of beautiful
and we were now ready to head to Greece for part two of our trip.
