My friend Margaret flew over from Winnipeg to Vienna for a visit early August. We toured Vienna a bit, and then went on to Tuscany for a few days.
Our flight down was uneventful, but then came the train ride from Rome to Cortona. First, it took us a few minutes to figure out the main train station, as the place the train from the airport arrived was not well indicated at all. When we finally figured things out, we realised that we had to walk to the complete opposite end of the station to catch our train. No worries, plenty of time. We stopped on the way to pick up some salads and drinks for the trip, which turned out to be a good thing. So we got there, and saw that many many people were standing around waiting (in the full sun at 30 degrees, of course). Our train was supposed to come in 10 minutes, so we settled in to wait. And wait. And wait. Every so often, there would be an announcement on the loudspeakers, but the sound was so garbled that we could barely make out if it was English or Italian. Almost an hour later, there was a mass exodus of people from the area, and we followed, figuring they knew something we did not. We finally found someone who helpfully told a group of us what was going on: "The train didn't come. (Gallic shrug) Take the next one." Gee, no kidding! We now had about another hour to kill, so we had a chance to eat our salads in a fairly nice travellers' waiting room. (Note: this room had an information desk, where the lady behind the desk had no information to give, except the location of the bathrooms - which we already knew.) So the time came, and the train did too. We got on, but so did TWO trainfuls of passengers. All seats were occupied, and all hallways were full. We sat on our luggage or on the ground for half of the ride, until a bunch of people got off at a connecting station. Italian efficency!
We finally arrived in Cortona, and easily found a taxi and our hotel. We were there to enjoy the Tuscan Sun Festival, started a few years earlier by Frances Mayes, the woman whose book was turned into the movie "Under the Tuscan Sun" starring Diane Lane.
We had a lovely relaxing few days in Cortona, including lazy afternoon naps and leisurely strolls.
In the evening, we saw 2 concerts. These were fantastic! The only bad thing was that we were on the third floor, in a concert hall without air conditioning or seemingly any air flow. Sauna!
The best concert was a combination concert and theatre: love letters written between Frederic Chopin and George Sand were read in theatrical style, and were interspersed with music by Chopin and the occasional ballet dancers. The actors were supposed to be Jeremy Irons and Sharon Stone, but Ms. Stone pulled out 2 weeks before the show. So they called in a pinch-hitter, Jeremy Irons' wife Sinead ?. Turns out she is an excellent stage actress, and far outshone her husband. Before the show, I was ambivalent, but afterwards I can truly say she did a fabulous job!
The last 2 days in Italy, we played tourist. On Friday, we spent the day in Florence. It was just as lovely as I remembered. Margaret climbed all the way up the tower of the Duomo and got a great view of Florence, but I was unable to accompany her as I was still limping from my foot vs. microwave accident in June. Poo.
On our last day in Italy, we left Cortona early, intending to spend the day in Rome before catching our evening flight. When we got there, it was about a million degrees, and we instantly started to melt. But we wisely decided to join a tour group - one of many hawking their services at the Coliseum. We got to jump the queue into the Coliseum, get a tour inside and then a tour of the Palatine hills. Both lovely, but the heat was oppressive, and we were glad to go to the airport early. This turned out to be a good decision, as it took us about twice as long as expected to make it out there.
Back in Vienna, we had one last day together before Margaret flew back home.
A nice vacation, all in all.
And now, as usual, here are a few random pictures:
Almost very not badly done!!
A statue of Salvador Dali. But why is he holding a dolphin and a...?
So many bad English signs everywhere!
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