SEurope – Days 40-43 – Genoa, Pisa, and Florence, Italy

Day 40 – to Genoa, Italy

July 6 (Sun) – New Countries Day – through Monaco to Genoa, Italy

• To make the early day easier on us, we had our breakfast “on the run” while waiting for the train. But we must not have eaten well because then we got on wrong train, realized it in time, and got off before it left. Whew! Then, we got on the right train. We just laughed about it. It would have just added to the adventure.
• Part way through our journey, we made a transfer to another train. Yay for getting that one correct on the first try. This train had good AirCon, but no where for luggage. We all didn’t have a choice but to take up extra seats. Since the train was extra full (no ticketed seats, no separate classes), people were unhappy, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. Even the backpackers took up two seats each because there were no racks for bags. There was a tiny rack for purses and briefcases, but no normal bag could go up there. Families with more giant suitcases than people, are the biggest problem.. Again, don’t carry more than you can manage yourself. Oh and the train’s PA system rain strike announcements.
• The most interesting part of the train journey was going through the tiny country of Monaco. Most of the train track there is in a tunnel (womp womp) but once we cleared that, we had a great view of the tiny ritzy place. We both wanted to see it up close, but there just wasn’t a good way to do that on this trip.
• Finally, we were there. We walked to our hotel, checked in, and found a very good Arabian restaurant where I got shawarma and he got half a chicken (which strangely came with the gizzards; I wonder how they decide which customers get them).
• From there, we got pics of the local submarine (at their maritime museum). We tried getting on a bus, but it was too full. So we found the subway, but all the pay machines were broken so we rode for free. All these efforts were to get us to Giuseppe Garibaldi, but it was a Sunday evening and nothing was open. Still, it made for a couple of good photos.
• At the other end of the block we found a place for drinks–sangria and coke–and bought some takeaway treats (a chocolate bullseye stacked cookie, a strawberry basket, and a sugar cookie). While we enjoyed watching a small storm move in and a little rain before taking the free Subway back to our area of town.
• We tried a “bar” by our hotel. It was really a café that also served beer and wine. The whole patio was full of locals/regulars. Inside, it was brightly lit and the staff were cleaning to a fault. I think I also saw a drug deal. It was all awkward.
• So we went back to our hotel with weak AirCon, but great views of the storm. And Holy Deluge, Batman, it was a super soaker of a storm with hail. In July. WTF?
• We spent most of the rest of the night working on how to get from Pisa to Florence. We found and booked hotels, but then we learned that there will be a train strike on that travel day. He found a ride share service and a bus. The ride share is vetted/verified like Uber, but instead of a quick trip in town, it’s from one city to another. People who are going that way offer up seats in their car. It looked really cool and we were comfortable with both drivers going that way on our day, but the timing was just rough (either very early in the morning or quite late in the afternoon). The bus isn’t government owned like a metro. It’s a private service that looks like a startup version of a Greyhound-type company. The timing is much better (mid-day), so that’s what we picked.

Day 41 – to Pisa, Italy

July 7 (Mon) – new city day

• We had breakfast at our hotel, got our Coke fix, and packed up. We had some time to kill, so we also got a little editing/planning work done. Planning to get to a new city on a day when there will be a train strike is a bit squirrely. Sadly, we booked our hotels before they announced this date, so we couldn’t just hang out an extra day.
• We checked out and walked across to the train station. We passed a group of full-habit Italian (? sure. why not!) nuns who smiled when he greeted them with buongiorno. Our train to Pisa was already at the platform waiting on us which made boarding easy.
• We had assigned seats so when a mom with two little boys took the row behind us, I was not happy. That lasted all of about 30 seconds. The first thing she taught them is that the tray tables rock the seat in front of them and that they had to use them very gently. I didn’t catch that she was French (and wasn’t thinking “in Italian”) so I just told her “Thank You.” For nearly the whole ride, the kids were watching a show with their over-the-ear headphones. When they inevitably came to the “he won’t stop touching me” moment, she took one of them in her lap and had a quiet conversation with him and soothed him down from his anger to–yep, you guessed it, he was tired–a quick nap. We declared her a super mom. Merci to the French mom of the year! 
• About half way through the ride, Dumbass Dad, who was seated on the other side of us and across the aisle from his (very well behaved) kid, tried to talk on his phone. We hit a long tunnel and he was all “hello? hello? Hello?” There is a great benefit to no wifi and weak signal on trains.  
• At every stop, more people got on. So once again, there was too much luggage on train. RULE: you shouldn’t be able to travel unless/until you can carry/manage your own luggage, kids included. (Disabilities excepted, naturally). One family had several large cases from a cruise; they were on Deck 11. Their extra large case took up more than half the aisle and all the people who had to get past them had to pick their cases up and over. Another couple with a baby had two large cases, a medium one, and a stroller. They had four minutes from one train to the next. I bet they didn’t make it since there were no escalators and since she couldn’t possibly carry anything other than her two personal bags while pushing the stroller.
• Aside: Smokers in Portugal, Spain, and France are fine, truly. Whatever they smoke is gentle and can even smell nice. Italian smokers are more like American ones. Ew.
• Luckily, our hotel was right across a small plaza from the train station.
• We found a cute little Italian restaurant, Pizzeria da Moise, for sliced pork, salad, and patate,
• Next we walked to the large mural by Keith Haring. It is his last public work and was completed in 1989 before his death in early 1990. My alma mater had (has?) a giant KH piece in our student center that I passed several times a week. So seeing this was a bigger deal for me. RIP good man. 
• We took the 1+ bus to the leaning tower and fought the crowds at the market and on the grounds for a couple of photos and short videos.
• After exiting the chaos, we stopped at Antica Bottega di Pisa for drinks. It was so very nice to sit on a patio and just enjoy the afternoon and weather. Several horse-drawn carriages passed us, too.
• After drinks, we went for a nice walk in the shade and ended up all the way back at the river. From there we took the bus the last 1km (in full sun) to our hotel.
• Later, we found dinner at Mic Ramen Piso. The space has very cool decor and we got a very cool metallic card from them.
• Across the street at a mini market, we found his fanta and a 2€ 1L box of wine. Take that Trader Joe’s Two Three Buck Chuck!). We joked that it was just grape juice, so when we got back to the hotel, we asked the Front Desk Attendant. She joined my excitement over the wine and said, “not gonna lie, I would drink it.” And you know what? It was a very decent table wine. She was also delightful to talk to. She already speaks Italian, English, and French, but she’s learning Spanish in college, too. If she stays in the hotel industry, she’ll be wildly successful. She has that je ne sais quoi for hotel management.

Day 42 – to Florence, Italy

July 8 (Tue) – new city day

• At a very cute little cafe, I had a new dish. My poached eggs were nestled into a tomato-soup-like sauce and served with thick and crusty buttered toast. It was amazing. 
• Let’s talk about strikes. In Europe, they have what I’m calling “polite striking”. The train crews are on strike. But they don’t want to fuck up everyone’s whole worlds. So, they pick a day with times, announce it, and strike for that period. You can plan around it, but it still gets their point across, too. 
• From the hotel, we crossed the plaza back to the mostly empty train station to grab a taxi. Our driver was crazy. He was on the phone, speeding, swerving, and making the ride very uncomfortable. He’d never make it as an Uber driver. Maybe that’s why the town doesn’t have that service.
• Due to the strike, we took a bus to Florence. Italian highways are just as bad as American ones. Our drop off point was near a mostly empty metro station. I guess people thought they were on strike, too. The empty metro station was weird…and kinda creepy.
• After a big day, we were craving something hearty. We found steak sold by the 250g portion. Turns out, it starts at 1kg sizes (2.2 pounds!) and is for two. Good thing we were hungry. They brought us balsamic vinegar for the table (and oil, salt, and pepper, for the bread) so he decided that balsamic is Italy’s ketchup. Our steak was 1.2 kg (2.6#!!). It was amazing. It was cooked on the more rare side and served on a cast iron griddle pan so you could let it cook to your perfect level of done. I dove right in; he ate patate, first. Huge-ass steak 1.2kg, all in our belly
• During dinner, we could see tour leaders talking about a place across the street and people going in it. So, we walked through. It was the most grand perfume store ever. We still aren’t sure what we encountered. It was like going into a church to buy expensive floral perfume.
• The next interesting thing we encountered was a tiny wine portal with a door the size of a wine glass. You ring a bell, tell them what you want, “et voilà”, a glass of wine comes out the door. We are sure there is payment, but we didn’t see that happen. Maybe you just have to show boobs or something?
• To get back to our hotel, we had to walk kind of a longer way around a basilica, of course. We stopped for drinks at our hotel bar, but despite being kinda posh, it was loud and hot, so we just came back to our room.
• Before it got too late (or so we thought), we went to a neighborhood market for wine, Cokes, and snacks. It was insanely busy with locals. The line was half way through to the back of the (small) store. When we got to the wine, a sign said they won’t sell any after 9pm. It was 9pm on the dot. So, we took the wine, grabbed our other stuff and got in line. I was going to say, “but I was in line before 9pm.” But I didn’t need to. First, in Europe, those cutoffs are “eh” 9 is the same as 9:05 or 9:10. Second, they knew the line they had. Third, she opened a cash-only line and we got to jump to the front. It was a great tit for tat moment. She didn’t even blink at the wine. We even gave her nearly exact change.

Day 43 – Florence, Italy

July 9 (Wed) – Albanian pizza and the ka-thunk

• The breakfast at our hotel was included and pretty good. I’ll probably never get used to cold cuts as a breakfast staple, but I don’t mind it. The lack of veggies still bothers me, but I’m probably the only person in the world who wants veggies more than eggs.
• We declared the day to be one of rest. The things to do here are mostly to pay money to see a church (No grazie, that’s a big reason we didn’t go to Rome.)
• For lunch, we found the cute Spice India Ristorante Indiano. Our food was great.
• For our afternoon “siesta,”  we rested and preplanned our train ride in the alps. There are some options to consider.
• I was ready for some Italian pizza, so of course I found us an Albanian-owned pizza place! Our delightful server offered me some raki, an Albanian liquor. Some of the staff came outside to watch me drink it. I am smart and sipped the high-octane shot. It’s a delicate flavor (and made from grapes) but has a kick from the high alcohol. I think that my liking it spoiled their fun. 
• There has been a ka-thunk ka-thunk ka-thunk noise in our hotel room. It’s not predictable or exactly rhythmic, but it goes from at least 6:30am to midnight. So, back at our hotel, I noticed I could hear it in the bar, too. I asked the bartenders if they knew what it was. No one did. And they called for someone from the front desk who had never had the question, either. The mystery remains unsolved to this day.